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#cal x traveler
catofadifferentcolor · 2 months
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Terrible Fic Idea #84: Star Wars, but make it the Outer Rim
I've been reading a lot of Star Wars fic lately, much of it involving time travel in some shape or form. Most of it is wonderful, but after a while some of it starts to read as let's fix the Republic so we can bring the light and civilization of the core to the outer rim. Which, while possibly disingenuous, feels a little to much like the justifications made by Europeans for their colonial empires.
As I said, I'm probably reading too much into certain tropes, but can't help but wonder: what if one of these fics started in the outer rim as a way of bringing light and goodness back to the core? Or: Save Tatooine, save the galaxy.
Just imagine it:
Several years have passed after The Book of Boba Fett in the original timeline. While the New Republic calls Daimyo Fett's leadership just another crime syndicate masquerading as good government, anyone who's actually been to the planet knows it's the other way around. Most crime syndicates don't care for planetary infrastructure or public vaccination programs.
Boba has encouraged Din to use his palace as a base for his bounty hunting activities - and as a home planet for the small community of Mandelorians building around their Mand'alor. Ideally, this would be the start of a courtship that wouldn't be moving as slowly as it is if Din wasn't an oblivious idiot about 1) his feelings and 2) traditional Mandalorian courting, but it could also simply be vod'e being vod'e. Dealer's choice.
And so Din is on planet when someone tries to bribe Boba for one reason or another with an ancient Sith artifact.
Din calls in a Jedi from Luke's school to investigate - Cal Kestis, who is one of a handful of trained adults in the new Jedi Order and the most knowledgeable about weird force osik...
...which doesn't stop Cal from accidentally triggering the artifact and sending Boba, Din, and himself back in time to the year 53 BBY, shortly before Jaster Mereel is set to die in the Battle of Korda VI.
As if finding themselves on Tatooine approximately 66 years in the past - well before any of them were even born - isn't enough, all three find themselves in their teenage bodies. Boba and Din are somewhere between 15 and 17, when they have most of their adult height but none of their bulk, while Cal is disgusted to find himself a particularly short 12. This in no way reflects their real differences in ages, and they are forced to attribute it to more inexplicable force osik.
Despite their ages, this proves an opportunity to stop the Empire from ever forming. But how? None of them know enough about the precise course of events to begin to stop it, and even if they could manage to get the Jedi Council to listen to them, waltzing into the Jedi Temple and declaring themselves time travelers is bound to put them on Palaptine's radar in a way that is likely to end their painful deaths.
The solution, they decide, is to get the Jedi to come to them. After all, if they repeat Boba's actions from the future, overthrow the Hutts, and free the slaves on Tatooine, someone from the Jedi is bound to come and investigate.
Taking over Tatooine proves easier than their wildest dreams.
Killing Jabba the Hutt in his own throne room and transmitting a signal that jams slave chips across the planet is all that's needed to spark a general uprising against the slavers and Jabba's criminal empire.
It's a little less easy getting the representatives of the colonists, freed slaves, and native peoples to believe that a pair of teenage Mandos and a half-grown Jedi took out a member of the Grand Hutt Council, but once they hear Boba's plans to convert the planet's slave-based economy to a viable democracy funded in part by the wealth of Jabba's vaults, they're more than willing to vote him Daimyo. His actions more than make up for his apparent age.
The Republic is naturally less sanguine. Mandalorians on Tatooine? Is this the start of another war of conquest? (To say nothing that several of the more corrupt members are in the position to lose a lot of money if crime and slave trade is disrupted in the outer rim.) The Senate orders the Jedi to investigate.
The Jedi are also in an uproar. Not only do holos show a young force sensitive helping a pair of Mandos take over Tatooine, but one of those Mandos has a lightsaber the likes of which they've never seen. (Tensions between Jedi and the Mandalorians are such that no one recognizes the Darksaber for what it is or what it means.) Could this mean some dark side sect has sent some of their apprentices to help rebuild the Mandalorian Empire?
The Mandalorians are also unsettled - Death Watch because the Darksaber seems to have disappeared overnight, only to end up with a child in unpainted beskar half a galaxy away; the True Mandalorians because it looks to them that Death Watch might be sending children into battle to build the empire they're always going on about; and the New Mandolorians because this is exactly the kind of violence that gives Mandalore a bad name.
And all of this fails to take into account the Sith, who are naturally upset that the fear and despair they've worked so hard to cultivate on the edges of the Republic has been disrupted with something so light as hope.
All parties converge on Tatooine.
The Mandalorians arrive first. The True Mandalorians are just beginning to investigate when Death Watch decides to attack first and ask questions never.
Boba, Din, and Cal were expecting this and so have a plan in place that allow their forces to take down most of the terrorists while ensuring Jaster Mereel survives, thereby preventing Korda VI, Galidraan, and all that follows. Montross is killed in the fighting without his double cross ever being known.
This also manages to convince the True Mandalorians that they're just a bunch of kids trying to make their way in the galaxy, and while they ask why take over a planet? why not just join a mercenary guild?, Jaster can't deny that they're doing a good thing. He stations some of his people on planet and leaves them be, content Din isn't going to try to push his claim as Mand'alor and/or build another extremist terrorist sect around the Darksaber.
The Mandalorians leave right as a large number of Jedi arrive. In this party are most of their best lightsaber dualists, including a less jaded Yan Dooku and a young Qui-Gon Jinn (who is only a few months out from Xanatos' Fall and in desperate need of a mind healer). Forced proximity has made the later very clear to all the Jedi Masters involved, and this alone prevents many of the tragedies of Obi-Wan's early apprenticeship.
Qui-Gon's mental health aside, the Jedi presume they'll be attacked by dark siders the moment they touch down on Tatooine. Instead they're invited to the Daimyo's palace, given refreshments, and brought before the planet's new ruling council. Which includes two freed slaves, a wizened Tusken grandmother, a pair of moisture farmers, and a representative from one of the cantinas in addition to a pair of teenage Mandos and a young force sensitive.
This meeting goes a long way to convincing the Jedi that what's happening on Tatooine could be a good thing - particularly after Boba turns over everything they could find regarding some of Jabba's dealings with several shady senators and businessmen within the bounds of the Republic. Including one young senator, Sheev Palpatine of Naboo. While several are able to talk their way out of trouble, it removes the worst of Palpatine's future lackeys from power.
The Jedi also invite Cal to come back with them to the temple to "finish" his training. Cal invites them instead to build a satellite temple on Tatooine. After all, there's no reason why a religious order should be tied to the Republic government, and setting up a temple in the outer rim would allow the Jedi to help those on the outer rim more easily, without waiting for the approval of the Senate.
The Jedi obviously don't agree right away - but it does mean that they come back fairly often to discuss the particulars, meaning that someone is on planet when the Sith decide the best way to fix their plans is to try to assassinate the young Daimyo and his allies, revealing the Sith's continued existence decades early.
Which is where my plot bunny starts to fizzle out.
With Jaster Mereel alive, the True Mandalorians have a real chance of stopping both the terrorism of Death Watch and the cultural genocide of the New Mandalorians, leaving Mandalore in a position of strength versus the Republic. So long as this remains the case, plans for a New Sith Empire must be put on hold.
With the shadiest characters removed from the Senate, it's harder for a Sith to take charge of it - especially when a strengthening Tatooine continues to disrupt smuggling and slave trafficking in the outer rim, reducing the darkness and the funds he has access to.
And so though the details are up to the dealer, taking over Tatooine disrupts the Sith's machinations enough that they're forced to show their hands too soon, and thus defeated before they can ever give rise to the empire. It's not easy, but it involves a lot less suffering than the original timeline.
Bonuses include: 1) Merrin and Grogu also traveling through time as a result of the force bonds that they have with Cal and Din respectively. They wake up on the currently uninhabited planet Luke's school will occupy in the future rather than Tatooine and have to go through a quest of their own to get off planet and rejoin the others. This should involve accidentally helping the other's plans to prevent the empire, such as by disrupting a crime syndicate or blowing up the Trade Federation's first droid factory; 2) Teenagers being teenagers. These kids may have been adults in the future with all their adult memories, but they've got teenage bodies now and it shows; and 3) Boba and company never outright admitting they're time travelers, but dropping enough hints to the relevant parties that they eventually come to that conclusion on their own. Only then do they share the details of the horrible future they've prevented.
And that's all I have. As always, feel free to adopt this bun, just link back if you do anything with it.
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dontwritemeoff · 2 years
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making breakfast for june, cal, damon, and bash!
I have been brainstorming domestic moments that might have occurred in like the time between Orion and Tilaarin and when this struck me I was just like :O
This is each member separately, but I do think a big crew breakfast would be a fun thing to write as well
I am fs planning to finish this with Ryona, Aya, and Vexx!! I just wanted to get something out since I’ve been working on this for like 3 days lol
TW: food mention
JUNE
We know that this man canonically barely sleeps but we don’t really know his eating habits? So for the sake of this he gets hungry just as often as anyone else lol. 
You don’t actually set out with the intention of making breakfast for him. It’s actually sweeter than that: you simply integrated him into your morning routine. When making yourself breakfast (and this is a morning where you have time for more than just some water and granola, you like actually cook), you find yourself already considering June’s needs. You hadn’t seen him in the hallway, and you’d gotten up fairly early, so you assumed he was still in his room. Whether he was actually asleep or not, who knows.
You debated whether to eat yours first and just wait for him to come into the kitchen eventually or take it to him, and decide on the latter since you were also hoping for a private moment with him away from the mayhem of being full time mercenaries.
Transferring the food you’d cooked into some more portable dishes, you exit the kitchen and make your way to June’s door. With your hands full, you knock on the door with your elbow, and while awkward it gets the job done. You can hear some shuffling behind the door and then June answers in some comfortable pants and a shirt you can tell he hadn’t been wearing prior to five seconds ago. 
He answers on high alert but then his eyes soften when he sees you. 
“(YN), good morning, um, to what do I owe this surprise?” He asks, smiling softly yet still quirking his eyebrow. 
You smile and hold up the food you’d made, steam still wafting slightly from the top of the bowls. “I made breakfast and hoped to have a quiet morning in with you!”
“You made me breakfast?” He asks, as if that isn’t obvious from the two portions you’re holding and the invitation to eat some with you.
“Oh, well I guess I did,” You respond, “I wasn’t really thinking about doing anything special, I was just already thinking about you and made you some without thinking.”
He looks surprised for a moment before smiling deeply, the corners of his eyes wrinkling. “Come inside, I was thinking about you too.”
While it’s a bit cramped trying to both eat off from his desk, and he only has one chair that he all but forced you to sit in, insisting that standing was no problem, you both find yourself occupied with thoughts only about how happy this companionship makes you. 
During his light rant on the proper storage of Lizzie’s food and how Damon keeps taking it out of the fridge even though he knows that it needs to stay cold, you take his hand and run your finger along a fresh, but albeit, small cut. You’d reached out without really thinking about it, and June cuts off his sentence preemtively.
“Are you not using the cream that Ryona gave you for these cuts? It doesn’t seem like this has healed much since yesterday. You know you should be doing that,” you scold, despite there being no anger behind your voice.
He blushes just slightly, barely visible with his tanned skin and the greenish tint to his blood. He averts his gaze but you know he’s guilty.
“It’s not that big of a deal and my hands are already so scarred anyways, I don’t see how they could look any worse,” he deflects, and from the look of sadness that passes over your face he knows he’s said something wrong. He just wanted to keep you from worrying about him.
“June,” you start earnestly, “you do realize that I love you, wholeheartedly and completely, and that includes all your scars, external and internal? I will always accept you just as you are, and care for you even for the most trivial things. I know that it must still be hard adjusting to this level of attention, but I will always remind you that I care about every small part of you.”
There’s a silence that follows that statement, as you see tears welling in his eyes. His brows furrow as he tries to process every word of your statement. Twice already today you’d cared about him as if it was second nature and now you’ve told him that he has your unconditional care and support. While he’d found trust and friendship with the crew of the A6, nobody had cared for him in this way, without judgement and as if it was like breathing. The feeling of it crumbled him, and he took you into his arms, cupping the back of your head with his hand as he buried his face into your shoulder.
And you hug him back just as tight, as with your arms you could squeeze the doubt and pain right out of him. While you hadn’t considered how much your small actions would mean to him, you wanted to convey how big your emotions were too. When June pulls himself back together again and pulls away from the hug, you smile and wipe his cheeks dry with your hand. 
“How about we go to the kitchen for seconds?”
CALDERON
With preparations for Tilaarin and the diplomatic nightmare of dealing with Alisa and Oppo simultaneously, you hadn't seen Calderon in a couple days, besides in passing where he gave you a soft look but kept walking.
While your time with Cal had been short, you knew this man as a workaholic with no sense of self care, and got it in your head to make sure he was taking care of himself, since he couldn't seem to do it himself. Before you went to bed you'd stopped by the bridge to make sure he wasn't still there and luckily only found Aya confirming the path to Tilaarin and making minor adjustments in the autopilot. Satisfied that Cal was most likely at least in his room, you went to bed yourself.
The next morning while making yourself something to eat you noticed a distinct lack of dirty dishes from Calderon. (At this point, you'd eaten with the crew enough to know who used what and Cal was extra particular with his items.) Sighing, you started up the stove to make sure that he ate something more than a handful of nuts or some plain bread.
Once you'd finished and plated both of your meals you realized you had no idea where he was. Most likely he was already awake doing god knows what, and you didn't have the energy to hunt him down. So, you picked up your com, took a deep breath, and called the shipwide line:
"Paging Captain Calderon Lynch, from Prince(ess) (YN) Peg'asi," you laugh inwardly at the formality that certainly wasn't necessary but conveyed urgency, "I need you to report to the kitchen."
You can hear Bash laughing from the hallway, and through your mild embarrassment hold out hope that Cal is even more embarrassed and that he'll arrive at least to chew you out.
You sit at the table, waiting in silence for a minute, when you hear the automatic door slide open and a peeved but blushing Calderon step in.
"To what do I owe this, pleasure," Cal begins, "your majesty." You know that if it has been anyone but you, he would already be yelling, or even more likely wouldn't have entertained the request at all.
"No need to have a stick in your ass so early, Captain," you tease back, "and I'll have you know that your continued well-being is of utmost importance so I believe my call portrayed the exact right amount of urgency."
"And what is your concern with my well-being?" He asks, leaning against the counter with the air of someone with undeserved confidence.
"Well, and I don't know for sure as a [Tilaari/Kitalphan/fellow human], but I believe people need to eat to live and if you don't do that for long enough it's not good for you."
You gesture towards where the breakfast is already beginning to cool and raise your eyebrows suggestively.
"Do you think you need to take care of me?" Calderon sighs, though there's no defensiveness in his voice and he takes a seat.
Taking the seat next to him, you take his hand in yours and near force him to look you in the eyes. "It's not about thinking I need to, it's that I want to. You're someone important to me, and the rest of the crew, and you can't be the one sacrificing himself for others. We're in this together, ok?"
Calderon swallows the lump in his throat and nods, determined not to cry at such a small gesture. But in the back of his mind he thinks, when was the last time someone's done even something this small for him? Squeezing your hand, he releases it to grab the fork and take a bite, smiling at your anticipatory face for his reaction to the food.
"It's wonderful, (YN)."
DAMON
I imagine with Damon is less of you making him breakfast and rather making it together. We already know he can cook and bake pretty well, so I'd like to think he makes himself nice meals as a way to have something he can control. So when one morning you're both entering the kitchen at the same time, he quirks you a smile and asks, "You come here often?"
"Not as often as I probably should," You respond, reaching around him to open the fridge. When he sees you pouring yourself just a bowl of cereal he furrows his brows a bit and then sighs.
"Is that all you're having?"
"Um. Yeah? What, is there something else I should be eating?"
Damon pauses, an inscrutable look on his face, then sighs resignedly.
"You ever cook in that palace or did you have a personal chef to do it all the time?" He teases, but steps aside from the stove so you can see what he's doing.
"Uh....I never really made anything, but sometimes I'd sneak into the kitchens to get a midnight snack or extra food. I don't think that counts though."
Damon let's a breath out of his nose in laughter and says, "No, I wouldn't count that as cooking. But I know a thing or two about stealing food, too."
You swat his arm but feel a pit in your stomach. Was it pity, sympathy, or simply sadness that he had to experience such desolation? You shake the thoughts off and lean closer to him, either to see better or to simply get closer. The reason doesn't matter.
"So what are you making?" You look at a greased frying pan and a mixing bowl filled with what you think is a mixture of eggs, milk, and cinnamon.
"Well I was going to just make myself a plate of eggs and call it a day but I figured if I'm teaching you then I might as well make something nice. You ever have French toast?" He takes a...whisk? You weren't sure, like you'd said, you didn't have much experience with cooking. He hands the whisk to you and says, "Here. Mix until it's all one consistency. I'll let you know when you've gotten there."
You hold the side of the bowl and begin mixing like your life depends on it. Maybe it was your pride making up for the fact that you felt so inexperienced compared the rest of the crew. What you didn't know was that that would cause the mix to start spraying everywhere.
“Hey! ‘The hell you do that for?” Damon shouts in surprise as he gets egg and milk in his hair.
“I! Um! I thought you had to mix it really hard?” You say guiltily, setting the whisk down as gently as possible. 
“What? No, these ingredients are mostly liquid! They’re just to soak the bread in!” He says, swiping his hands through his hair. When he sees your dejected look, he purses his lips and puts the whisk back in your hand.
“Here,” he puts his hand over yours, “We’ll mix together. See, nice and gentle, just with enough force to break the egg yolks.” You can feel the callouses on Damon’s hands as he holds one of yours stirring the whisk and the other is over your hand holding the bowl.
“Ok,” you say quietly, since his chest is pressed against your back, “and what next?”
“Well, we let the bread soak while we make some [coffee/tea/drink of choice].”
The rest of breakfast is made without any more spills, mostly you observing Damon but he does let you flip the toast in the skillet, laughing lightly at your surprise when the uncooked side begins to sizzle. When you’re finished and both sitting down to eat, you smile widely at him. You’re extremely grateful for his patience with you, and not just today. Adjusting to life as a not-so-ordinary person has certainly not been easy, but after his apology he’d been nothing but gentle, though he’d never admit it.
“Thank you for teaching me this, Damon. I hope you’ll let me learn more from you.”
“I, uh, it’s really no problem,” he says, pointedly looking at his plate as he picks at his food, “It’s nice to have someone to do this with anyways.”
BASH
Bash is another member of the crew known for his baking prowess, so I think he’d make something really nice once a week that he can eat off from for the rest. Like meal planning but for like an oatmeal bake lol.
He keeps his portions labeled neatly (well, not all that neatly but you can certainly tell they’re his from the doodles that accompany his name) in the fridge, and he has lots of fun mugs to drink from, one matching your own “I <3 Cursa” mug. This particular morning you can see steaming tea coming from a mug that has clip-art of tools on it and says, “Kiss The Mechanic” in bright pink lettering, and you know it has to be his, though you have no idea where he would have gotten it. There were a few very specific gift shops on Chrono, however, that seemed like they had something for everyone. You had to stop him from buying you a T-shirt covered in words that started out reading, “I have a kick-ass biomechanical boyfriend, and yes, he bought me this shirt.”
Since the tea in the mug was still hot, you knew that Bash had to be around somewhere, though he wasn’t currently in the kitchen. Knowing at that point his habits for breakfast, you took out one of his portions from the fridge and set it on the plate to microwave (? I have no clue what cooking would look like in the future). 
While waiting for that to finish, you rummaged around in the fridge for something for yourself, finding some fresh fruit that Ryona had picked up on Chrono, with a note that said “for sharing but do not eat it all!!” and laughed. You knew for sure that even if she hadn’t labeled it, she would have made an exception for Bash. Taking the carton of fruit out of the fridge you, spoon some onto Bash’s oatmeal to give it some more flavor and set it on the table before making a bowl of fruit for yourself. You hear the doors swish open as Bash walks in, yawning. It takes him a moment to process that his food was already warm and waiting for him on the counter.
He looks at you and then back at his food. “Did you do this?” He asks, before picking it up to smell it.
“Um, yes? Don’t worry, I didn’t poison it.”
“Oh,” he starts, “Well, uh, thank you. How did you know that was what I wanted?”
“Bash, you eat the same thing every morning and the containers are covered in your name. Plus, while I may be sheltered, I know how to operate a microwave.”
He picks up his bowl and mug and takes a seat next to you. He then eyes the fruit in his bowl and the fruit in his. “Is this Ryona’s?”
“Yes, but she said she’d share. Do you not like it? I’m sorry I put some in without asking, I thought you’d like the extra flavor.”
“Oh! No no, I love it, I just, I don’t know. I’m not used to people caring for me. Sure, the crew cares about me but, I never had someone taking care of me growing up, and when I was under the care of the Archangels it was because I couldn’t take care of myself. It felt more like a debt I’ve yet to pay back. So I guess when it’s something small and out of the goodness of someone’s heart I just don’t really believe it. Not that I don’t believe you and your feelings! But, my brain doesn’t want to, you know?”
You smile at his ramblings, he always manages to make you smile.
“Sebastian,” you say with a fake stern voice, causing his eyes to widen, “I don’t just do this out of the goodness of my heart but the love in my heart. I pay attention to you and your habits and want to take care of you because I love you. It’s that simple, and I’ll keep doing it until you and your silly brain of yours believes it.”
He takes your hand and raises it to press a kiss to your palm. 
“I love you too, (YN). I hope you’ll let me take care of you too.”
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starclast · 3 months
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Sketch scenes 🌠💖
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(P.S: ...This is one of my favorite scenes in the whole game :3)
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kat-crow · 2 years
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ok so I know the creators have faceclaimed Liam Hemsworth for Calderon but have we considered Calahan Skogman??literally the same guy
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bloodmoonmuses · 1 month
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translation: i love you. | mark lee
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genre: mark lee x reader, college au (not that important for the context tbh), friends to lovers, fluff, drabble (900 words)
summary: your friends referred to you as the mark lee interpreter. you weren't sure why, but you understood him- even the words he didn't say.
warnings: none!
To many, you were known as the Mark Lee Interpreter. Such was usually said in jest, but you couldn’t help the pride that swelled in your chest when the moniker was bestowed upon you. Sure, the guy rambles a bit, but if you listen- really listen- he has quite a beautiful outlook on the world. 
You and Mark usually conversed in motion. You’ve divulged your deepest secrets to him while on aimless walks. You’ve cracked your wisest jokes to one another while biking. You’ve had entire conversations through your eyes while dancing in grimy bars.
Now was no different, though a more chill variation. It’s Spring, so the two of you are taking a stroll in between classes. The sun knocks the chill off an otherwise too-chilly day, its rays falling on your face like a smattering of kisses. Spring isn’t in its picturesque stage quite yet. The stasis of winter still lingers, trees barren and skies grayish amidst the light that peeks through the cloud coverage. It’s calming.
There’s a creek that runs through the center of campus, a little bridge arching over the widest part. This is where you stood now, watching the water trickle over stones. 
“I think about rocks a lot,” Mark says out of nowhere. (Translation: Nature is so beautiful- even the most mundane and minute aspects of it. Even the parts that people forget. I think about forgotten things a lot, like rocks.) You believe it. Mark thinks a lot about a lot of things.
“They’re, like, soooo varied. Y’know?”
You do know. Large rocks. Mountainous rocks. Boulders. Stones. Pebbles. There are many types of rocks. “The ones in the creek look super smooth. It’s… hypnotizing.” Mark speaks as though he’s constantly in amazement, or on the brink of an epiphany. He’s the embodiment of potential, of the hypothetical, of what could be. You think a lot about what you and Mark could be. 
Of the many possibilities, you conclude that as long as some form of togetherness is involved, you’d be anything for him.
“I think about water a lot,” you respond. 
“What’s your favorite kind of water?” (Translation: Indulge me. How intently do you think about the minutiae of the world? Are you as crazy about water as I am about rocks?)
“Hm,” you say. “Good question. No one’s ever asked me that.” You assume he’s asking you to identify a particular body of water as your favorite. A memory comes to mind. 
It was the summer after freshman year. You and Mark went to the beach everyday together.  You think of the chilly water that rolled over your toes in the waking moments of dawn. You think of how beautiful the sunrise looked reflected on the ocean. You think of Mark waking up with you, despite not being a morning person. That wasn’t your favorite type of water, no. You specifically liked the sea water that danced on the ends of Mark’s hair. The drops that traveled down the follicle, forming shimmering beads, and dripped onto the sand below. You made a game of watching and counting them that summer. (The highest you got was 47.) 
You’re not sure how to consolidate this memory into a sentence that doesn’t sound absolutely insane. You decide to omit the thought entirely. A conversation for a different day, you suppose. 
“The ocean. Cliche, I know,” you say. Mark nods to himself, then hums.
The creek beneath you harmonizes with Mark’s humming. He begins walking again, taking your hand in his. This wasn’t too out of the ordinary for your friendship, but it makes your heart do this twisty thing you can’t quite place. It was the one action of his you couldn’t interpret. Mark doesn’t make a big deal about it, nor does he discuss the matter afterwards. It was almost like he was entitled to your hand, clasping his calloused fingers around yours without a second thought.
You’ve never actually looked at your intertwined hands before. The first time he grabbed it (during one of those days on the beach), Mark acted so nonchalant. You figured the gesture didn’t mean much to him. You were scared that, if provided with a visual, you’d never stop thinking about his stupid hands. 
This time, you allow yourself a peek. The cuff of Mark’s jacket hangs over his fingers, and he squeezes your hand when he realizes you’re looking. (Translation: You’re finally acknowledging this. Are you here? Can you feel me?) 
Your hand is getting sweaty. You pull away to wipe it on your jeans.
Mark can’t believe you’re nervous right now. You’re never nervous around him. The two of you have become accustomed to the wordless ease of your relationship.
Mark’s eyeing you again. You pretend you can’t see him in your peripheral vision. It doesn’t work. “Nervous?”
“Not even a little bit,” you say defiantly. You snatch his hand back into yours as if to prove your point. However, this only does the opposite as you begin to literally tremble.
“You’re so funny,” says Mark, running his thumb over the back of your hand. He slowly lifts your hand to his mouth, but he doesn’t kiss it. He simply presses your knuckles to his lips, maintaining eye contact while he does so. Your breath hitches.
“Mark-” is all you manage to say. You can’t meet his eyes, so you look at your conjoined hands as they swing between the two of you. Elation radiates off Mark’s skin. He’s grinning from ear to ear.
“Your hand is so warm,” Mark says. (Translation: I love you.) 
a/n: feedback is always appreciated! thanks for reading!
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inkdrinkerworld · 10 months
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Can I just say how grateful I am that you write for the autistic community? Thank you sm, I can hardly find any fics in the fandoms I’m in that include us!!! <3
If your requests are open, could you maybe write Remus x Autistic!Reader who has super good pattern recognition, and the boys are convinced she can tell the future because she keeps predicting things that will happen, so Remus helps her explain to the boys what autism is?
If not, no worries—thank you anyway!!! <3
ahh i’m so glad that i can give us a little bit of recognition!!
“be straight with me,” sirius says and you frown. “are you a time traveler?”
remus chuckles when you look at him with confusion written all over your face.
“a time traveler? i don’t think they’re real sirius.”
james shakes his head and adds to sirius’ claim, “you’re always able to predict stuff that’ll happen. like last week, when we went to the cinema and you figured out the ending before any of us.”
you scratch at your arm as you nod. “yeah but that was just because of what the characters were doing jamie.”
“but you were completely correct, like everything you said happened.”
remus rubs at your back as you sigh. “want me to tell them, dove?” you nod with a frown.
“have you idiots ever heard of pattern recognition?” remus takes his time to explain with you supplementing information where needed and by the end sirius and james were understanding of everything.
“but can we still cal you our time traveler?” james asks and you laugh.
“yeah jamie.”
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cloverthebarbearian · 2 months
Text
Alone Together
Rolan x GN!Tav 6.1k+ words (Explicit, AFAB descriptions used for Tav) (P.1: The Party)
Finally finished Chapter 2 of the first fic I ever started, hope y'all enjoy! It's, uh. :) Yeah :)
"I'm sorry," he said, pulling back on impulse. His voice was trembling, his mouth aching to return to Tav's embrace, "Is this okay? I… I should have asked first, or -" They kissed him again, savoring him as if he were the wine they meant to share tonight. "Yes, Rolan," Tav smiled against him, kissing him softly between their words, "This is more than okay." "We're both drunk," Rolan continued between Tav's peppering onslaught of kisses, "I don't want us to… I don't want you to… come to regret anything…" Tav leaned into him, catching his lips in a kiss more tender and intimate than any of the starved, frantic ones they had already shared. When Tav finally pulled back, they held Rolan's gaze. The spark of infernal fire in his eyes twinkling back at him in the reflection of their own. "Don't talk like that, Rolan. I came here because I wanted to… I want to be with you. There'd be nothing to regret," they wrapped their arms around his neck, holding the back of his head in their hands, kissing him again. And he held onto the moment for dear life. Tav released to take a breath, their lips tracing his own. "Whatever you want tonight. Whatever you need, I'm yours."
The night air grew cool and quiet as the two walked further away from the party grounds. The silence, the wine swimming in Rolan's head, the feeling of Tav's arm still tightly linked into his own. And Gods, the smell of them - sweat and earth, smoke and… sage? Patchouli, maybe. He couldn't quite place it. Lost in thought, Rolan nearly jumped when Tav spoke.
"Where are you camped at?" they questioned. Their party was camped by the river, near the ruins they had met Wither's in a few nights prior. They knew the refugees were leaving the grove come morning, but they never stopped to consider if that's where they'd be spending the night again, "When Zevlor said you'd all be visiting our camp tonight, I wondered if that meant we'd all be sleeping together."
Rolan's face felt warm at the thought of Tav's phrasing. They didn't correct themselves. Perhaps they didn't notice the possible intimacy behind the words. Perhaps Rolan was overthinking again. He stammered a moment before replying.
"I, um - ah, yes. Well. I suppose some of the other refugees are set up closer to your camp. Those who I think were intent to drink themselves silly tonight. But many of us set up our bedrolls by the gates," he fell quiet a moment, before a slight bitterness overtook his words, "The druids seemed keen on us marching out at first light. I suppose Zevlor thought it wise to make it easy for us to leave at their earliest convenience."
Tav looked up, but his gaze held straight ahead. They weren't sure what to say, if anything, that could help. More often than not, Rolan always had some rebuttal prepared in wait of Tav's attempted encouragements.
So, they didn't say anything. They just squeezed his arm a little tighter as they walked together. And though Tav had stopped looking up to read his expression, they felt his body relax around their arm. Rolan took in a heavy breath, an attempt to clear his mind of the hostility he carried.
"Not that I mind, I suppose," he spoke up again, "High time we left this blasted place. Oh, but, um," he cleared his throat before continuing, "I'm camped atop the hill, east of the gate. I was surprised no one else seemed bothered by the thought of sleeping packed together at the gate like animals. And I, um," he hesitated around his words, "I… appreciate the privacy, when its afforded."
Tav smiled, "I'm sure when traveling with family, it doesn't happen often."
"Ha! No, it does not," Rolan replied with a laugh, "I do look forward to a night free of Cal's snoring for a change."
They soon arrived at Rolan's aforementioned campsite. It was much more humble than Tav was expecting. Though, I guess he isn't traveling with much, they soon thought. Inside the tent, they could catch glimpses of his bed roll, quite a number of pillows, and an even larger number of tomes neatly organized in a box tilted on its side. A make-shift book shelf, with some parchment and ink left on top of the 'shelving', in lieu of a proper desk.
"Ah, just one moment," Rolan gave a quick bow before turning to dig through the rucksacks left in a tidy pile beside his tent. Tav stepped away, taking in the view from atop the hill. They could see their party's camp grounds down by the riverbank. Still going strong, it seemed. Drunk as Alfira was, her voice and musical accompaniment still carried faintly up to the grove.
Tav closed their eyes and took a deep breath in, outstretching their arms and allowing the crisp evening air to embrace them. They knew the peace wouldn't last. But they had now. They were allowed to enjoy this moment.
"Am I… interrupting something?" Rolan's voice carried from over Tav's shoulder. They turned their head around and glanced up at the tiefling man behind them. "I did think we had plans this evening," he joked, holding up an unopened bottle of wine and two surprisingly elegant glasses, "But if you'd rather… um. What exactly are you doing?"
Tav laughed, walking back to the tent and sitting on the thin rugs laid out in front of the entrance.
"Honestly? I don't know. Just… enjoying the calm, I suppose, " they said with a sigh. Rolan sat down next to them, uncorking the fresh bottle and pouring them both a glass. He handed one to Tav as he started taking a sip from his own, an eyebrow raising.
"The calm? Sounds to me like they've got a good hours of dance left in them," Rolan joked, nodding at the party down the cliff side. Tav chuckled, their fingers rimming the lip of the wine glass.
"I just mean I haven't had a moment like… This -" they shrugged, vaguely, gesturing to the air around them, "- In a while," They looked down into their cup. The wine a deep, clean red, "Usually, the nights before rest just leave me thinking of the battles to come tomorrow. It's nice to know I can just… I don't know. Appreciate this," they said with a forlorn lilt, "Whatever this is."
Their voice held that appreciation. But with it was a heaviness. A burden weighing the air so thick Rolan felt as if, for a moment, it were his own. Tav let go of another breath and took a sip of their wine.
"Oh, wow," their eyes grew wide, "Y'know, I'll be honest Rolan. I kind of just thought you were full of it with the whole 'vintage bottle back at my camp' thing. But, this is way better than what they're serving back there!"
Rolan eyes went wide and his jaw went slack in disbelief, "What do you mean you thought I was 'full of it'?! That I'd - That I'd lie just to get you up here? That I'd have some sort of… Some ulterior motive to -" Tav reached their hand out and placed it on his leg.
"Rolan. I'm only teasing. I'm sorry," they squeezed his leg in an attempt to comfort him. They were smiling, but genuine concern was apparent on their face, "Do you not like that? When I… Joke around? Or tease you? I can stop, if it bothers you."
Rolan felt his breath catch a moment. Then he let out an exasperated sigh, "No, no… I'm sorry. Maybe it's just, a mixture of the constant teasing I already receive from Lia and Cal, and… all the stress we've dealt with in the grove. I can tell, I've been… quick to lose myself. I swear, under better circumstances I am significantly more collected. I've just… all this! Has just been… so… augh!" his hands clenched and released at nothing in the air, "Gods, I have just been so anxious to get to my apprenticeship in Baldur's Gate! I feel like every second we spend here is a second wasted. This is all time that could be spent as Master Lorroakan's apprentice! At times I feel as if nobody else cares enough to -" Tav heard it immediately, his voice starting to crack. He caught himself, breathing deep. Then, taking his entire glass of wine down in two large gulps, he tosses the cup aside and lays on the ground, a heavy THUMP accompanying the action. His palms pressing against his eyes, his fingers rubbing his temple. He let out a heavy groan, "This was not at all how I intended the night to go."
Tav gave a soft smile, drinking the rest of their wine and placing the glass down beside them. They laid on their side next to Rolan, their head propped up by one arm, while their other reached over to carefully remove one of his hands from his face. He opened one eye to glance up at them.
"I hope you're aware I'm having a fine time tonight," they said with a smile. Rolan huffed.
"Reveling in my misery?" he said, his tone dry.
"No," Tav replied, pulling his other hand away from his face, "I mean, I will admit. Its nice to see that the Great Wizard Rolan doesn't really have it all together," Rolan's eyes caught theirs. Not angry, but clearly anticipating some sort of following statement. Tav smirked at him before looking away, biting their lip as a shy smile found its way across their face.
"I like seeing you vulnerable, Rolan," Tav said softly, "I like knowing there's someone with… feelings in there. Like, I get thay you're... stressed. This is all very stressful. But… I don't know. When you talk about how much you love your siblings, how much you hate loving your siblings… This all just tells me, you do have a heart. Deep, deep down, somewhere… Even if you try really, really, really hard to convince everyone you're this selfish, arrogant, pretentious, egotistical -" Tav's words were cut short as Rolan's lips planted themselves firmly against theirs, his hand reaching up to cup their chin in his palm.
The sensations experienced in but a half second were overwhelming. His lips were warm, and soft, the taste of fine wine still fresh on his breath. His hand was strong, dexterous. Like a musician, there was delicate experience beneath his touch. Mixed with the now buzzing sensation of fresh wine hitting their bloodstream. Tav felt dizzy, in the best possible way.
Their eyes fluttered shut as they realized what was happening. They felt Rolan begin to pull away, worried he may have overstepped, only for Tav to immediately follow him. Pushing him back onto the ground and pulling themselves above him, falling further into his kiss. The sudden, enthusiastic reciprocation left Rolan purring low into every kiss that followed. One hand still holding Tav's face to his, the other exploring the curves of their body. When Rolan's nails accidentally slipped under Tav's shirt, grazing their bare skin, they let out a shuddering gasp against his lips.
"I'm sorry," he said, pulling back on impulse. His voice was trembling, his mouth aching to return to Tav's embrace, "Is this okay? I… I should have asked first, or -"
They kissed him again, savoring him as if he were the wine they meant to share tonight.
"Yes, Rolan," Tav smiled against him, kissing him softly between their words, "This is more than okay."
"We're both drunk," Rolan continued between Tav's peppering onslaught of kisses, "I don't want us to… I don't want you to… come to regret anything…" Tav leaned into him, catching his lips in a kiss more tender and intimate than any of the starved, frantic ones they had already shared. When Tav finally pulled back, they held Rolan's gaze. The spark of infernal fire in his eyes twinkling back at him in the reflection of their own.
"Don't talk like that, Rolan. I came here because I wanted to… I want to be with you. There'd be nothing to regret," they wrapped their arms around his neck, holding the back of his head in their hands, kissing him again. And he held onto the moment for dear life. Tav released to take a breath, their lips tracing his own.
"Whatever you want tonight. Whatever you need, I'm yours."
I'm yours, he thought.
The words flooded him, a hunger pulsing through his blood, building in his throat. Static leaping across every nerve, every muscle. He took a deep breath in, kissing Tav again before pulling away, focusing himself well enough to whisper, "It's more comfortable inside."
Tav's eyes gleamed in the moonlight as they smiled up at him. Twisting in each others arms, practically crawling across the ground, the two made their way into Rolan's tent. The wizard tried to lay Tav onto his bedroll, but it seemed they had other plans. His little hero may have been smaller than him, but they were certainly much stronger. Tav quickly flipped him onto his back, straddling his legs, their hands tracing down from his neck, across his chest, resting down just below his navel. And they could feel Rolan shifting - and growing ­- beneath them.
And while they tried their best to hide it, Tav was suddenly struck with a sobering awareness of the position they were in. They bit their lip, their face running hot, unsure just how to proceed. Rolan ghosted his hands across their hips and thighs before settling on a spot to secure them. Sensing their shared trepidation, he gripped them slightly tighter, adjusting himself enough to allow his hips to roll into theirs. Tav let out a breathless moan, their hand reaching up to their face and brushing up against their lips. Rolan immediately reached up to grab their wrist, pulling their hand away from their face and towards his own. Tav froze, catching his gaze, as Rolan brought their hand to his mouth.
He kissed and bit their wrist tenderly, careful not to break skin with his incisors, allowing his teeth and tongue to trace the shape of them. Tav's body shuddered, their free hand twisting into the fabric of Rolan's robes. They rocked their hips into him, finding the pressure of the growing arousal beneath them, shifting to line him up with their own aching entrance.
As soon as Tav found their mutual sweet spot, Rolan let out a hissing whine. He gripped at Tav's legs to still them. They immediately stopped, even trying to lift themselves off of him slightly.
"I'm sorry, is that -"
"Its fine Tav, its - Hells, its incredible -" Rolan's words came out between heaving breaths. Tav gently settled back down onto his lap, and his head fell into his pile of pillows. Lifting a hand to run through his hair, he laughed to himself. Without looking up, he spoke, "Its been a while, to be blunt. A good, long while. Well before Elturel, even, since I've…" He took a deep breath, lifting himself slightly and looking over Tav's body. His hands run up and down their thighs, tracing his thumbs inside their legs, meeting their hips. Tav inhaled sharply, pushing themselves against him again in response.
"Gods," Rolan closed his eyes, laying his head back down, still gripping into their hips, "I worry I won't last long with you…" Tav smiled before leaning back into him to catch his lips again.
"I wouldn't hold it against you," they teased, biting his lip. Tav's mouth opened, licking between his lips, seeking entry. He immediately gasped and caught their tongue with his, breathing into them, drinking them in.
Tav's need for him was building as they ground themselves deeper. His hips bucking up and Tav moaning his name into his desperate mouth. He rolled into them again, gripping their hips and thighs tighter as he pressed their bodies together. This time, Tav's moan came out with a giggle, kisses now tracing across his jaw, his neck, below his ear.
"Fuck me," Rolan groaned.
"Are you asking?" Tav whispered.
They felt his cock under his robes twitch against them in response. His hands had moved from their thighs; now gripped tightly around their ass as he pushed himself against them. He was moaning - whimpering, really - from their words, from their touch, his legs practically shaking beneath them.
"Rolan," they sighed into his ear, "You need to tell me what you want…" Their hand sliding between them, under his robes, down to his crotch, stroking his fully erect member still tucked away by his pants.
"Ah!" Gods, he felt pathetic. Having already come undone by the slightest touch, his thoughts flooded with everything he wanted to do, everything he wanted them to do. It was so overwhelming he could barely think, let alone speak. Tav whispered into his ear again.
"Rolan, please," their chest pressed against his. He could feel their nipples puckering beneath their shirt. Tav was unrelenting, kissing and licking his ear, his neck, stroking his cock while pleasuring themself against his thigh.
"I - Ngh! - Tav, I - y-your mouth, please -" was all Rolan could squeak out between his heaving breaths. Tav smiled, biting his earlobe playfully, as if to thank him. Their hand left the length of him to instead unclasp the belt around his waist. He quickly followed their lead and removed the mantle adorning his chest, practically throwing it to the foot of his tent. Preparing to disrobe further, Tav stilled his hands.
"Let me," they whispered, leaning in to kiss him again. Between the kisses, the hums and moans of approval, Tav's hands slipped beneath Rolan's robes. Not fully undressing him, but rather pushing the layers of fabric away from him, revealing the lower length of his infernal chest. The hills and peaks of cartilage that ran across his tiefling bones now exposed, and Tav's kisses left his lips to find the skin at the base of his ribs. His fists clenched at either side of him as he inhaled sharply, their eyes glancing upwards as their tongue traced a line further down.
Slowly - Gods, so achingly slow - their fingers began to slip beneath the waistband of his trousers, his pants pitching shamefully high between his legs. His tail was now thumping to the side of him, causing Tav to release a muffled laugh against his pelvis. They ran their cheek along his thigh as they pulled his pants down with them. His cock dragged down, caught in the taught waistband, before the tip came free, bouncing upright, and dripping with his own anticipation.
Tav's eyes lit up. He was long. And his infernal features seemed to spread across more aspects of his body than they were expecting. The length of him adorned with ridges and divots they had never seen on any other being they'd had the pleasure of bedding. Eyes still wide, a grin creeping across their face, they glanced back up at Rolan.
His eyes were shut tight. Eyes, jaw, fists - all clenched. The only tell about him suggesting any excitement at all was the thick and throbbing member mere inches from their face, and the tail still lashing about the ground.
Before Tav touched Rolan's wanting length, their hand traced up to his, running across his wrist and up his arm, coaxing him to relax. He inhaled deeply, releasing a shaky breath as his hands came loose from their fists.
Eyes still closed, Tav kissed along the inside of his thigh and whispered, "Look at me?"
Rolan gasped quietly as his cock twitched, a pearl of pre release dripping down his length. His hand reached out, searching for Tav's head. He cupped their cheek as he allowed his eyes to lull open.
Tav held his free hand while the other ran up his thigh before allowing their thumb to tease and trace the skin at the base of him. His hips rolled slightly as more pre cum dripped from his head in want. Tav wrapped their hand around him, and made certain his eyes were trained on theirs as they licked their lips and left soft kisses at the base of his cock.
"Hells below," Rolan moaned, hips rocking with hesitation. Tav's mouth opened as their kisses grew sloppy, their tongue laving the side of him, their lips gently sucking at his skin. His hand had left their cheek and ran through their hair. He didn't dare grab them. He just watched, his cock twitching and throbbing, in pure disbelief.
They grazed their nose down his shaft before sticking out their tongue - wide, wet, flat - and dragging it up the entire length of him, catching all the droplets of his arousal that coated him. And upon reaching his head, Tav looked Rolan in the eyes, as they let the pre cum and saliva in their mouth drip from their tongue down his dick.
They rolled their eyes shut, wrapping their lips around the head of him, and began taking him into their mouth. Their tongue lax around his shaft, guiding the whole of his cock further into them, until they could feel his tip tease the back of their throat..
"Gods, Tav -" was all Rolan could manage, before the hand in their hair clenched into a fist, his hips rocking upwards, pushing himself further into their mouth. His hips moved in short, stuttering thrusts as a powerful release struck him. Pulsing ropes of cum shot down Tav's throat as they held him with confidence, swallowing every drop. Their tongue flexing against his shaft as they drank down his spend. Rolan whimpered infernal phrases Tav couldn't understand, his voice breaking between whatever psalms they thought he may be reciting, before it was replaced with mumbles in common, "Sorry… 'm sorry…"
A moment passed before Rolan's body finally stilled, his hand releasing gently from the tangled mess he made of Tav's hair. Shaky hands reaching to try to smooth out the wild strands as they raised themselves off of his softening member, peppering it with gentle kisses and tucking him back into his clothes before reaching their fingers up to wipe around their lips. They looked up at Rolan, their cheeks flush. A panting, open mouthed smile adorning their face. The tiefling looked upon them. His chest heaving and his mind blank, left speechless and sincerely unsure if he weren't in some wine-drunk fever dream, given the radiance of the creature knelt between his legs.
Tav crawled their way on top of him, leaning back in and kissing him deeply. Still dazed in the aftermath of his own release, he nearly didn't register the hero's touch. But his hands soon enough regained their feeling, and wrapped their way around Tav's waist, pulling them in to lay with him side-by-side. They kissed sweetly, like teenage lovers in a school yard - soft and surprisingly innocent - before Tav pulled back smiling, burying their face in the crook of Rolan's neck.
He held his partner for a moment, blissed out and reeling, before coming well enough to his senses to realize…
"Well, hold now. Don't get too comfortable," Tav's head raised to look at him, eyes dreamy and confused. Rolan scoffed with a smile, "What kind of man would I be not to return this favor?"
Tav laughed softly and pushed their head back into his neck, "You don't have to 'return' anything, Rolan. I enjoyed myself just fine."
They felt Rolan's hand smooth over their hair, falling down behind their ear and urging them to look up at him. They let his hand guide them back to face him, searching his eyes until he leaned in to kiss them again.
And again.
And again.
Tracing his tongue across their lips, breathing in the taste of him that still lingered on their skin. Kissing them until he felt their body rock against him. Running their hands up his chest, over his shoulders, down his back. Pulling him close at the waist. He could hear, and feel, the way they moaned into his mouth. He let his hand travel from the small of their back to the front of their leathers, trying his best to keep himself steady as he untied the laces.
Rolan felt Tav's hands grip him tighter at his waist while he worked to loosen their garments, until he felt there'd be room enough for his hand to slide beneath the fabric. He kissed them slow, praying they couldn't feel the way his hand trembled as he ran his fingers against their skin. Dipping below the hem of their trousers, tracing the back of his hand across the soft flesh where their stomach met their thighs. Their lips broke from his as they took in a sharp breath, eyes closing slightly at the gentle touch.
Rolan turned his hand around, his palm against their stomach, as he ran his fingers down. Further below their open leathers, teasing the lace of their underclothes with the tips of his fingers. They felt the pad of his fingertips pressing against the sensitive skin that lay hidden beneath their most intimate fabric. They lulled their eyes open to look back into the eyes of the man laying before them.
Warm and twinkling golden rings were watching them diligently, the iris a thin halo around his wide blown pupils. He ran gentle, hesitant circles over the dampening fabric between their legs, swallowing deep as they looked into his eyes. Their mouth hung open as quiet, gasping breaths escaped them. He had never seen anything more beautiful.
He pressed his fingers further between their folds, teasing their hole beneath their underclothes. Tav bit their lip, wincing slightly, and Rolan paused. Pulling his fingers back an inch, Tav immediately reached for his wrist, panting heavily. Rolan searched their face again, a wordless inquiry of concern.
"I, um," Tav started, suddenly nervous, "Your, um… your claws…" Rolan's cheeks flushed as he tried to pull his hand away from them, but Tav held his wrist tighter.
"Don't stop!" they choked out, perhaps a bit too hastily.
"Well, I…" Rolan swallowed, "I don't want to hurt you…" he carefully freed himself from Tav's grasp. For a moment, they feared he'd become too embarrassed to continue.
Rolan brought his hand to his lips, hesitating before biting off the ends of the claws on his two middle fingers, and turning his head to spit them out by the entrance of his tent. Tav's eyes went wide as they tried to hide their smile, their hands ghosting up Rolan's sides. He looked back at them, beginning to reach his palm back down towards their apex.
Before he got far, they stopped his wrist and brought his hand up to their mouth. Watching him closely, they laved his fingers with their tongue. Sucking gently, tracing between the two fingers, eyelids flitting to meet his gaze. They smiled as they felt his body shiver in excitement.
A thin trail of Tav's saliva stuck to his fingers as they pulled him from their mouth. They helped guide his hand back down between them, letting go when he found their stomach. Tav brought their hands down to their clothes, shifting to remove their pants and underclothes from their legs completely. Rolan took a sharp inhale, watching their bare bottom half as they got comfortable, trying - and failing - not to ogle at them, before willing his racing heart to steady itself. He traced his fingers lower, trailing over the slightly trimmed patch of hair between their thighs. Tav's hands found his neck and brought his face to their own. Closing the distance, close enough now to feel his breath on their skin, to hear when he tried to stifle his cries. Every moan and whisper to be shared in the space between them.
With no fabric to separate his touch, Rolan easily found his way between Tav's folds again. And now, he could feel just how shamefully wet they were for him. Their moans fell from their lips directly onto his, wordlessly begging him to continue. Sliding himself further, he used his outer fingers to spread them open, tracing his trimmed fingers across their entrance.
Tav pulled at his neck, rocking their hips against his hand and trying to coax his fingers into slipping inside. They lifted their leg to hook around Rolan's back. His eyes darted across their face, watching the way their eyes glazed over, the way their lips trembled in silent cries. His own breath shaking, he let his fingers sink into them.
The moan that rose from Tav's throat made his core tighten, he could feel his half hard length twitch in his trousers as Tav squeezed the back of his neck. They used their leg to pull his waist against them, urging him to keep going. Rolan froze for a moment, basking in - what he could only describe as - the celestial being laid beside him. All this, just from his hand. His chest burned, proud of how good he was making them feel. How good he needed them to feel from him - for him.
He moved his free hand to cup the side of their head, stroking his thumb across their cheek. Tav leaned into him, kissing his thumb before licking the tip of it into their mouth. Rolan groaned at the sight before even registering the warmth of their mouth around his digit.
"Tav," he whispered, his voice trembling. They let out a small laugh beneath their moans. They sucked his thumb, rolling it over their tongue, while they ran their hand down to his wrist between their thighs. They traced their fingers around the back of his hand, pushing him deeper into them. All the while, he could feel his cock growing firm all over again, as Tav sunk deeper into their own arousal.
"Keep going," they whispered around his thumb, as they rolled their hips against him. Their eyes locking with his, begging for him in the way they stared. Rolan pulled his hand away from their lips and dipped forward to kiss them, curling the fingers inside of them against their clenching walls. Tav whimpered his name against his mouth, holding his wrist tighter and locking their hands between their pressed bodies.
Rolan let his fingers follow the rhythm Tav set with their hips, pushing into them when they rocked closer and gauging what felt best for them by the way they sang into his mouth. He curled his fingers again, then spread them apart inside of them, making Tav clench him harder.
They took his free hand in theirs and brought it under their shirt, letting his fingers glide across their breasts. Rolan stilled at the prospect of touching them further as Tav released him, smiling against his mouth in wait. Rolan slowly let his hand cup the soft skin of their chest, at first, before tracing their stiff nipple under his thumb, and pinching it between his fingers.
"Gods, yes, Rolan," Tav urged him on, freeing both their hands from him and gripping his neck once more. Kissing him and encouraging him to continue, "Keep touching me, please."
Their begging seemed to be just what Rolan needed. The fingers inside of them started thrusting at a steady pace, his thumb making swiping motions across their swollen clit as he fucked them with his hand. The hand on their breast squeezing and massaging their skin, kissing them and sucking on their tongue before dipping his head down further and catching the nipple not occupied with his hands between his lips. Tav ran their fingers through his hair, one hand wrapping around the back of one horn as they muffled their moans into the top of his head. They could feel his cock twitching against their thigh as they fucked themselves on his fingers.
"Please don't stop, please don't - Fuck," Tav's breath hitched in their throat as Rolan's tongue swirled over their stiff bud, teasing it between his teeth and pressing his thumb harder against their clit. He could hear their heartbeat quicken in their chest, the frantic way their hips continued to rock against him, "Rolan! Rolan, I - Fuck!" They grabbed the side of his head and pulled him back up to face them, kissing him hard before pulling back and holding his gaze, "Make me cum, please. Please. Look at me and - and make me cum," tears pooled in the corner of their eyes as Rolan's fingers thrust into them, refusing to break eye contact with the divine being laying with him.
"Yes," he whispered, his voice low, heavy with lust, "Cum for me."
Tav's leg clenched against the small of his back, holding him against them as their hips rocked in short and steady bursts before finally going still. They held his gaze, their jaw locked in a gasp as they came against his hand.
Rolan could feel the way their inner walls gripped him, fluttering, as their labia pulsed in his palm pressed firmly against them. He could feel their shaking body against his own erect length tucked away. Try as he may to still himself from crying out when he felt himself cum against their thigh, a rather pathetic, squeaking cry still fell from his trembling lips. The climax itself sending shivers rocketing up his spine, and down his tail.
They moaned against each others mouths, Tav still whispering Rolan's name, and Rolan trying hard not to cry in full from the ecstasy of his own unexpected orgasm in the process. He could feel the way his ejaculate pooled uncomfortably in his pants. Yet, he hardly cared, as Tav's body trembled in the aftershocks of their own satisfaction. Their hands tangled in his hair, tracing their fingers along his neck and ears, panting into his mouth as they tried to steady themselves.
They pressed shaky kisses against his chest, right in the center of his collarbone, until their body finally relaxed. Rolan kissed the top of their head as he continued to hold them. And for a while, they lay just like this. Hot, sweaty, sticky, and spent, until Rolan could feel Tav stir in his embrace. He loosened himself from them as they sat upright, wondering if they needed to excuse themselves, head back to camp, now that they had…
"Um," Tav gripped their knees to their chest, "Do you have any clean rags?"
Rolan felt himself blush, shy, as if they weren't already sat half naked before him. He laughed to himself, "I do," he replied, "You're welcome to one, but. Um… I-If I may…?"
Tav looked at him, their own face flushed and tinged with confusion. Rolan's laid outstretched, offering them a spot back in his arms. They nodded softly, leaning back into his warmth. He let them lay across his arm, as he brought his free hand up to their chest. Resting his palm between the curves of their breasts, he kissed Tav's shoulder and traced his hand down their torso, resting between their legs.
Tav watched his hand anxiously, biting their bottom lip as their heartbeat picked back up. They heard Rolan whisper an incantation, and watched his hand glow a bright golden yellow, growing comfortably warm between their legs. The wizard let his fingers kiss their skin so very delicately, and Tav could feel the fluid from their release wash away. The discomfort of it having become cool and tacky against their skin, replaced with the feeling of a warm bath towel lovingly stroked across them.
They closed their eyes as soft sighs and moaning whispers fell from their tired lips, turning their head to kiss the tiefling beside them as he brought his spell to an end. His still warm hand resting under their thighs, pulled up and over his legs as he held them in their kiss.
When Tav finally rested their head into the warm crook of his shoulder, he reached beside his pillows for a light blanket to lay across their exposed legs. His tail slid out to close their tent flaps completely - Thank the Gods he chose such a solitary campsite this evening, he thought, as he realized just how exposed they've been this entire time.
When it seemed as if Tav may have drifted off, Rolan quickly cast the same prestidigitation upon himself to clean up his own mess, with significantly less flair for the dramatics this time. Finally ready to settle down and perhaps sleep for the evening with…
Rolan blinked as his eyes fell to the adventurer resting in his arms. Stray hairs framed the soft skin of their face, eyes closed and lips parted. Their hands were resting on his chest, one hand having two fingers loosely hooked into the ties of his robes. He let his eyes trail further down to the silhouette of their body beneath the thin lavender sheet he had placed across them. It flowed beautifully over their form, but still hugged the curves of their hips and thighs.
They had felt so soft, so… malleable. Rolan had been so use to his own infernal features. Hells, even before his reluctant spell of abstinence, he'd only ever been with other tieflings. So use to hard edges; the bones and spikes and horns and tails. He had never felt someone so… Soft. Fragile. He traced his his hand along the shape of them, and they gripped into his robe tighter. He froze, growing warm, realizing they were still awake.
They tilted their head up, eyes half open, and pulled him down into one final, sleepy kiss. His lips were warm as they smiled against him. Touching their noses to each other's, before Tav kissed his chin.
"Thank you," They mumbled, burying their face back into his chest. Rolan chuckled softly.
"For what?" He asked, but he never got an answer. Gentle snores came from the brave hero of the grove, who for some odd reason was still here, in his arms, seemingly asleep, with no intention of leaving until morning. Rolan smiled, kissing their temple softly, and settling in beside them.
"Of course, Tav," he whispered, For you? I'd do anything.
192 notes · View notes
goosewriting · 11 months
Text
Of bunk beds and confessions
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summary: when there’s a new crew member on the Mantis, reader feels discouraged to confess to Cal.
relationship: Cal Kestis x GN reader
warnings: slight spoilers for Jedi Fallen Order, dw it has a happy ending uvu
word count: 2.8k
A/N: recently finished JFO (finally! lol) and i have A Lot Of Feelings so, here you go
prompt used: hesitant kisses, but when they part one whispers "do it again. please."(source, by @urfriendlywriter)
(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)
— — —
You’re waiting on the Mantis with Cere and Greez for Cal to get back with the Astrium. You’re currently on Dathomir, and you’re not entirely sure what he had to do to get the thing, but he comm’d you some minutes ago saying he’s on his way back to you.
You stand at the top of the ship’s ramp, trying to see if you can see him somewhere. You’ve been worried out of your mind when he would send you short and clipped messages, telling you he had to fight some mysterious but apparently very powerful traveller he met on this planet. The whole place gave you the creeps; with the Nightsisters gone and all, it just felt like a hollow, haunted memory of a civilization. 
Despite everything being tinted red, from the rocky formations all the way up to the sky, your eyes catch a familiar flash of copper hair. Your head turns and you look out to Cal, who’s about to reach the ship. Only then do you finally allow yourself to breathe properly again. 
The thought crosses your mind that, with how worried you are when Cal’s gone, not knowing if it’s the last time you’ll see him when you wish the Force to be by his side as he leaves for several hours, only to come back all beat up… Maybe you should finally tell him how you feel. It’s a selfish thought, but you’re not sure how much longer your heart can take this. 
Turning back inside, you shake your head and try to calm the pounding against your ribcage. The important thing is that he’s back, he’s alive. 
“Cal’s back!” you call to the rest of the crew, and everyone gathers around the dinner table just as Cal walks up the ramp to the Mantis.
“You found it!” Cere says when she sees the small, black item in Cal’s hand, who’s showcasing it.
Suddenly, there’s a flurry of green and black behind him as a person appears out of thin air.
“Whoa, who’s this?” Greez asks, pointing to the stranger. 
As you take in her appearance, you kinda freeze: it’s a Nightsister. BD beeps excitedly.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” the pilot asks the droid, still unsure about her presence on his ship.
“It means I’ll be joining you,” she says, with an accent and with confidence. You look at Cal, hoping for him to intervene, but instead, he looks excited. Cal points to each of you, introducing you all by name to the newcomer.
“And this is Merrin,” Cal finishes, pointing to her.
“Wha–” Greez looks up at him just as shocked as you are. “She’s a witch, isn’t she?”
“A Nightsister,” Merrin corrects him. “Your fear is unnecessary.”
“I couldn’t have gotten the Astrium without her,” Cal explains. “We fought Malicos together. I trust her.”
Those words hit you like a bag of bricks. He trusts her. They fought together. She must be a skilled warrior, then. Meanwhile you’re just… you. And next to her, it doesn’t feel like enough. 
“And we trust you,” Cere retorts with a smile directed at Cal, then turns serious as she looks at Merrin. “You will have to earn it.” 
“Fine, grab some seat,” Greez mutters under his breath as he makes his way to the cockpit. “As long as she doesn’t do anything funny.”
“Welcome aboard,” Cere finally says to Merrin and follows Greez to the front of the ship. 
Cal looks after them for a second, then turns to the new crew member.
“They like you,” he remarks, and looks at you as if waiting for you to add something, but you’ve long averted your eyes from him. 
The image of Cal looking at Merrin is now burned in your retinas. Doubt and jealousy spread within you, so you leave for the back of the ship, missing Merrin’s questioning gaze on you. 
Greez sets course for Zeffo to bring the Astrium to the temple and finally, hopefully get the Holocron. You wonder what will happen after that. Is the crew gonna split up? You sure hope not; you don’t really have anywhere else to go.
You didn’t join the Mantis team much earlier than Cal did, so this was your first time you were on the move with Jedis, and if you were being honest, you liked it. Most of it, at least. You liked the sense of adventure, sure. The constant worry about a certain redhead, not so much. And yet you can’t get enough of him and his boyish smile as he apologises for the scratches and bruises you nurse back to health. You’re sure that you’d follow him to the end of the Galaxy if he asked you to. 
But that probably isn’t gonna happen, not if you correctly read how Cal and Merrin exchanged looks throughout the evening when eating dinner. Merrin asked for her steak rare, and you felt that with every jab of her fork into the meat (which to you was way too red), she was looking in your direction. You really weren’t in the mood to confront the newcomer, especially when Cal and even BD seemed so thrilled to have her here, so you tried to ignore her most of the day. Which probably wasn’t the most polite thing to do, but there were other things on your mind.
When the time came to sleep, the crew had to make a few changes. The Mantis has four separate rooms with two bunks each, and until you figure out something better, Cal volunteered to bunk with Greez so Merrin could have her own room.
Now lying in your bed at night, you think back to how you almost didn’t get to talk at all with Cal since he arrived with the Astrium today, despite how worried you were. Just like every other time he’s gone ever since this race for the Holocron started.
As the medic of the crew you’ve had to patch up Cal several times, often giving him a piece of your mind, given how badly injured he came back sometimes. You don’t consider him to be reckless though, in fact you saw how competent he is first-hand when he defended you from an Inquisitor. But still you can’t help the knot in your throat and the tightening in your chest that only loosen up when you see him coming back to the Mantis in one piece. 
And just like every time he came back, today too he sat on the chair as you cleaned up his wounds. Usually you two would chat while you work, but today you had refrained from saying too much, scared that the conversation would shift to the new crew member, and as such giving away how you felt about her. Not that you disliked her (you still hadn’t dealt with Merrin enough to get an idea of the person she was), but her being seemingly close to Cal had put a significant dent in your confidence. Your plans of confessing your feelings to him were now thrown into the bin and you felt silly for ever thinking you had a chance to begin with.
You sigh to yourself in your bunk, pulling the blanket up to your chin and waiting for the ship’s constant hums of hyperspace to lull you to sleep. But at the speed your mind is racing, you doubt sleep will come your way any time soon.
Just as you’re considering doing some reading instead of sleeping in an attempt to tire yourself out, there’s a knock at your door.
Your breath hitches and you tense up. The first person that comes to mind is Merrin; what if she’s here to tell you off or something? To confront you about your attitude at dinner? Or worse, what if she’s here to… hurt you? 
No wait, that’s ridiculous. Shaking away your thoughts, you clear your throat.
“Come in,” you call to the person on the other side.
Much to your surprise, when the door slides open, it’s Cal standing there. A shirtless Cal to be exact, only wearing sweats. He's holding BD in his arms and quickly comes in, closing the door behind him, and approaches you to sit on the edge of your bed.
“I did not know a body so small could snore so loudly” he remarks and yawns. 
Even though you've seen Cal without his shirt plenty of times when patching him up, you can feel the heat prickling your cheeks. You really hope he can’t see how you're eyeing him up, no matter how much you try to tear away your gaze.
“Can I… sleep here tonight?” he asks, and your heart skips a beat. You internally reprimand yourself for that as he’s obviously asking about the bunk above you, not about sharing your bed. 
“Of course,” you reply, hoping your voice doesn’t betray you. 
He thanks you and climbs onto the bed. BD beeps something you don't understand, and Cal answers in quiet whispers you can't really hear.
Some minutes pass by, and you have to remind yourself to breathe. Now there is for sure no way you'll fall asleep, great. You plan on waiting for him to pass out so you can pull out your book, but Cal keeps shifting back and forth, seemingly unable to find a comfortable position to sleep in. 
“Can’t sleep?” you ask after some time, and he sighs deeply.
“Sorry, I'm probably shaking the whole thing,” he says with a sheepish chuckle.
“Wanna sleep down here?” you find yourself proposing, and mentally facepalm yourself. What you meant to say was “Want to switch places?”, but now you made it sound like you're inviting him to sleep in your bed with you. Not that you'd have anything against it, but he's probably taken aback by it–
His fiery hair hangs from his head as he’s peeking down over the edge of the bunk to look at you.
“Really?” he asks, and you can't tell if the tone of his voice is teasing or hopeful. He probably understood what you meant about switching places, right? And that's what he means to do?  
You merely nod your head with an affirmative hum, and Cal’s face disappears so he can properly climb down. He comes to stand beside the bed just as you're sitting up to get out. You're about to throw your legs over the edge when he places a knee next to you, and you freeze.
“Scoot over” he instructs, and you follow. He lifts the blanket and slides under.
You turn on your side with your back to him, trying to shuffle all the way to the wall so he has enough space. Instead you feel yourself being pulled back as Cal hugs you from behind and brings you into his chest, tangling his legs with yours. BD joins the nap pile as well and settles at the end of the bed.
“Is this okay?” he asks, tightening his hold around your waist ever so slightly, and you're still too stunned to speak, so once again you merely nod, and he heaves a deep sigh, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.
“Is this okay for you though?” you suddenly blurt out. He lifts his head at the question.
“What do you mean?”
“I thought… you and Merrin…” you say and immediately regret it, forcing yourself to shut up. You should have just kept silent and enjoyed this moment. 
“What about her?” Cal asks, the arm at your waist pulling you over to lie on your back while he props himself on his elbow to look down at you.
You don’t answer immediately, unsure of what to say. You fidget with the hem of the blanket. 
“I don't know, the way she looked at you… I thought you two...”
He gives you a small, maybe even shy, smile.
“Greez was snoring,” he states, which seems pretty unrelated, so you quirk an eyebrow at him. “And whose room did I go to?”
You avert your gaze from his, not wanting to give in just yet. Somewhere in the back of your brain there was still a little voice saying that there's no way he's implying what you think he's implying, and that you shouldn't get your hopes up because you're only gonna get crushed.
Then he softly calls your name, and you're suddenly aware of how he can possibly not just hear but feel how your heart is pounding against your ribs, with his body pressed to your side. His hand reaches up to gently hold your chin, turning your face to look at him, and your cheeks burn once more.
The way he looks at you, how the dim lighting from behind seems to form the faintest of halos against his copper hair, how his ocean eyes shine through the darkness and look into yours longingly… You make sure to commit everything to memory, afraid of this moment ever ending. You're so busy counting every freckle, tracing every line of his face with your eyes, his jaw, his collarbones, that you miss how his own eyes flicker to your lips for a moment, and he starts leaning in. 
Before you can even process what’s happening, Cal presses his lips to yours. The touch is feather-light, almost like he’s scared to press too hard. Just as quickly as it started, it ended much too soon. Pulling back only enough to look at you, he’s about to say something, but you go first.
“Do it again,” you demand in a whisper. “Please.”
Cal’s happy to oblige and leans back down, now with more confidence. This time he feels you reciprocate, so he moves on top of you, his arms on either side so as not to crush you with his weight. He traces your bottom lip with his tongue, and you open your mouth to meet it with your own. Your hands reach up, one around his toned back, the other over his shoulder, to his nape, and into his fiery hair. Tangling your fingers into the strands, you pull ever so slightly and he groans into the kiss. If you thought your cheeks were burning before, now your whole body is positively ablaze. 
He breaks the kiss for much needed air, peppering some more on your jaw and neck, which makes you giggle lightly. 
You’re both panting lightly, trying to get your breathing and erratic hearts under control, still looking at each other in awe of what just happened, when BD suddenly beeps.
“Wha- Yeah, I was about to!” Cal says over his shoulder to the droid.
“What did he say?” you ask, cupping his face with both your hands, and he leans into your touch, closing his eyes.
“He said I should tell you how I feel about you,” he explains sheepishly, and when you chuckle at that, he looks back at you.
“I think you’ve made it plenty clear” you tell him with a grin. “But you can’t never be too sure.”
Cal stifles a laugh while shaking his head, hugging you to him and turning around so now you’re on top of him. The action makes you squeak in surprise, and your hand shoots up to cover your mouth as you hide your face in his chest in embarrassment. He chuckles, and you can feel it rumbling through you both. 
“Then let me clear it up,” he starts and his face gets a bit more serious. His hand comes up to hold your face, brushing over your cheekbone with his thumb. “You’re the first thing to make sense in a very, very long time. I’ve been running, hiding for so long… You reminded me that there’s more to life than just survival. And now I can’t imagine a life without you in it.”
You place your own hand over his own, leaning into it and closing your eyes to savour the moment and make sure that you’re not dreaming. After a moment you look back up at him with a smile you can’t stop from spreading no matter how hard you try, not that you’d want to. 
Since you don't really know how to answer and put your feelings into words, you decide to kiss him one more time. It’s cut short though as you have to lean back for a yawn you can’t stifle. Despite your racing heart and the million thoughts going through your head right now, the claws of sleep are slowly creeping in to claim you. 
You kinda slump onto Cal, who huffs in surprise but hugs you nonetheless, and you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck as you nestle your body against his, your leg over his hip.
“I also want you to stay in my life, Cal,” you mumble as you lazily trace shapes onto his skin. “Even after we find the Holocron and everything, no matter where you go, I’ll be right by your side and kiss you better when you get your ass beat by some monster somewhere.”
“Can’t wait,” he says with a chuckle and a kiss to your head, then wishes you good night, hugging you impossibly closer to him.
961 notes · View notes
lumi-nescentt · 4 months
Text
And I Hope I Never Lose You, I Hope It Never Ends
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Pairing: Lance Stroll x Reader
Warnings: mention of Lance's crash during quali in Singapore
Words: 3.2k
Summary: Dating a racing driver has its perks but seeing your boyfriend crash might be a little too much when no one seems to notice you.
A/N: I've started writing this right after Singapore but I had no idea how to continue it until tonight but I finally managed to write something I like so here you go :)
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Lance knew what most people thought of him, how he was here because of his dad, a pure result of nepotism. While he knew that his dad had played a big part in his first F1 seat, Lance liked to think that he had earned his right to stay in the cut-throat sport through hard work and dedication. He had to believe that or else the critics would get to him and he couldn’t afford it. 
After all, he was glad he had someone in his corner who’d do anything to help him. Lawrence was always pushing him in the best way possible and Lance was very grateful for the opportunity he had been given and the love he bathed in. From what he knew of the other drivers, not everyone had the chance of having a father who only had kind words and constructive criticism to give. 
With a family like his own, Lance had never felt alone or unlovable. In fact, his family had been his everything from the moment he was old enough to understand what the word meant and for a long time, his family’s love had been enough.
As he grew up, Lance watched his sister go through love and heartbreak, allowing people to get close to her and embracing them in all the love she had to give. Chloe was a solar being, she gave and she gave, expecting almost nothing in return but as the heir of such a fortune, she got taken advantage of quite a lot in her teenage years. 
Lance was there to witness it all and he swore he’d never get himself involved in something too serious that could break him into pieces. Plus, with racing, he didn’t really have the time to get a girlfriend and keep one so the matter was settled. 
For years, he satisfied himself with meaningless flings and one-night stands when he felt like it. The prestige of being an F1 driver helped and he was starting to be noticed as just Lance, not Lance, son-of-Lawrence, which he appreciated. 
One night after his home Grand Prix as he was partying in a familiar club in Montreal, Lance’s eyes met hers. The moment she winked at him with a smile, Lance knew he was done for. The girl had this magnetic pull that just made him want to know more. 
After a night together with the mysterious girl, Lance broke his own rules and gave her his number. He wanted to see her again. He felt like he needed to get to know her and luckily for him, she was just as curious about him. 
They started texting a lot and everyone who knew Lance could tell he was definitely not keeping this lowkey. The more he texted her, the more he found to like. She was funny and kept him on his toes, always having something to say when he teased her. What had started as physical attraction was definitely turning into more on both ends.
With his work, Lance couldn’t really see her often but whenever he was on the same continent, he convinced her to fly over. She tried to pay for her own flights but Lance categorically refused to let her spend a dollar when she was the one who had to arrange her schedule around his.  
The night Lance introduced his sister to Scotty, she was also there and Lance happily paraded with his arm tightly wrapped around her waist. Chloe immediately loved the girl and the feeling was more than mutual. From this exact moment, Lance knew that he wanted to be more than whatever they were right now and he asked her out on the balcony in summer air, New York’s skyline in the background. 
After this particular moment, the couple became inseparable and they tried even harder to see each other despite the distance separating them most of the time. They travelled together when they could and called for hours when they couldn’t. The distance was hard at night when everything suddenly turned silent and they both longed for someone to hold in the dead of night from two different ends of the globe but they made it work. 
It was also hard during the day when everything they saw seemed to remember them of the other, whether it was an ice rink where they had their first real date as a couple or a particular book she had given him with handwritten notes all over the margins. Even in the distance, there was always a trace of the other where they were and it was both painful and comforting, it was being haunted in the most beautiful way possible. 
Luckily for them, she finally got her degree and travelling became easier with her job. She could work remotely most of the time so following Lance was part of her routine now and she loved it. No matter how many races she had been to, it somehow never got old. Seeing Lance in his element was captivating. She was fascinated by his determination and his resilience. No matter how hard the world was on him or how hard he was on himself, Lance always bounced back and faced it all with a stoic face and a steel-strong determination. 
It was one of the reasons why she wasn’t as scared as she originally thought she would be when Lance got in the car. She was aware of how dangerous the sport could be but there was something about the confidence that oozed from her boyfriend that seemed to calm her. If he kept getting back into the car despite knowing the risks, he was either completely stupid or serene enough to decide that it was all worth it. 
Lance had been pretty consistent for the three practice sessions in Singapore so far and Fernando seemed quick so there were reasons to be optimistic about qualifying. Chloe and Scotty hadn’t been able to come this time and Lawrence was busy talking business in an office in the motorhome so she was left alone in Lance’s corner, blowing him a kiss as he got into the car, catching it and acting like he was putting it in his pocket, making her laugh at his antics. 
Qualifying was all about pushing the car to the maximum and toying with the limit and it seemed like Lance wanted to do just that. The green car was zooming past slower cars, turning between the tight corners between the walls of Singapore, brushing it at times when Lance came in a little too fast but he always made it out without much more than a scratch. 
Her eyes were glued to the screen as Lance was supposed to come round the last corner, set to cross the line in just a few seconds, her fingers crossing, hoping for a time that would put him to the top of the board and save him from another Q1 exit. When she saw the flash of green appear on the screen, her heart started racing even harder until she felt it almost stop suddenly. Right in front of her eyes, her boyfriend’s car went off the track and straight into the wall, barely avoiding collisions with other drivers that were also rounding the corner. 
As if the crash itself hadn’t been spectacular enough, another camera caught the scene and showed the car from another angle, showing how one of the wheels had snapped and was now bending at a strange angle. With her headphones on, she heard Lance’s race engineer Ben ask if he was okay only to be met by a deafening silence. Ben asked a second time and with a groan Lance muttered that he was okay before getting out of the car as medics came rushing around him. 
Despite knowing that her boyfriend was okay enough to talk and walk, she couldn’t stop the tears from falling as she watched the broadcast replaying the crash over and over again like some sick joke she would never be able to escape. No one seemed to be paying attention to the crying girl in the middle of the garage until a camera panned over to her and she saw her own face on the broadcast. Giving a slight nod to Ted Kravitz who was offering her a reassuring smile and mouthing sorry to her, she turned around, ready to ask anyone if they had any news.
She wanted nothing more than to find Lance and see for herself if he was really okay but she knew how strict the FIA was and how hungry the media were so she knew going out to the medical centre now wouldn’t do any good. She suddenly felt terribly alone without anyone to talk with or anyone to reassure her. The Singapore heat no longer felt warm, it was suffocating and she didn’t realise she was hyperventilating until Fernando came back into the garage without his helmet and ran over to her, grasping her hands and asking her to breathe with him for a little bit.
-“ Better now ?”
-“ Yes, I don’t know what happened but thank you Fernando.” she offered him a tight smile, squeezing his hand before letting it go
-“ I think you were panicking but that’s completely normal. You must be pretty shaken up, did they let you see him yet ?”
-“ Not yet, I don’t even know if he’s still there and I don’t want to bother Lawrence or Ben. They must be pretty stressed already without me texting them for the hundredth time.” 
-“ I think both of them would understand but I’ll ask around and see if I can find someone who can either bring you to him or tell you how he’s doing.” 
-“ Thanks nando, really.”
-“ Don’t worry about it. Your boyfriend’s tough, I’m sure he’ll be released soon.” the Spaniard smiled before leaving her to see if he could find something on his own
In his whole career, Lance had had his fair share of crashes. No matter how intense his crashes were, he usually walked away without any real physical injuries, at least not in car accidents. 
He had been taught that the most important thing after a crash was getting back in the car, not letting the incident get to you, always getting back up. That’s how he had always proceeded since he started racing, if he fell, he got back up straight away and worked until he got it right. 
This crash hadn’t been any different from the others, only maybe a little harsher but that was all. Yet, Lance couldn’t stop his heart from skipping beats, he couldn’t breathe fully and he didn’t know if it was because he was physically hurt or if he was still in shock. Nothing made sense to him and he just followed along the medical team and answered their questions, trying not to ask too many times how much longer he had to stay there. He knew they were only doing their job and he was thankful to be checked quickly after the impact but the white light was irritating, the whole room seemed hostile and all he wanted was to see a familiar face. 
No matter where he looked, all he saw was strangers’ faces and Lance had never wished to see someone he knew as bad as he did in that moment. Once all the tests were done, Lance was told to wait for the results in the room so he did. When the door opened a few minutes later to reveal his dad and Ben, he felt like breathing was a little easier, even though his dad’s hug was a bit too tight. 
-“ How are you feeling ? Does it hurt anywhere ?” Lawrence asked
-“ I’m good, dad. I already told the doctors everything so don’t stress about it.” Lance smiled as Ben rolled his eyes at how relaxed Lance was being
-“ I’m glad you’re okay, that seemed like a tough one. You had us all scared back in the garage.” Lawrence admitted, resting one of his hand on his son’s shoulder
-“ I’m sure it looked worse than it felt for me but yeah I can imagine. How is she ?” Lance asked as his dad excused himself, having to answer to a phone call
-“ How is who ?” Ben answered 
-“ y/n. Is she waiting outside ?” 
-“ Oh shit.”
-“ What ?” 
-“ She’s not here, Lance.” 
-“ What do you mean ? Didn’t she want to come see me ?” the canadian asked, not hiding his disappointment 
-“ I mean she probably did but we were so taken by surprise by the crash that I didn’t even think of taking her with us.” 
-“ Are you seri– Alright, it’s not your fault, you were stressed but can you please have someone bring her in ? She must be worried sick all on her own in the garage.” 
Ben just nodded before joining Lawrence outside to arrange for a car to bring the girl over to the medical centre. Barely a few minutes later, the door burst open and without having to look towards it, Lance knew exactly who it was. There was no way to mistake her for anyone else as she rushed inside, only to stop in the middle of the room, almost afraid to take another step. 
-“ You can come closer, you know ? I’m not going to break if you breathe too hard.” Lance laughed softly 
-“ Can you not joke about it please ?” she whispered as she came to stand next to him without touching him, still afraid to hurt him without meaning to
-“ I’m sorry. I’m okay, I promise.” Lance affirmed, nudging her shoulder with his “ Can you give me a hug, pretty girl ?”
-“ Just tell me if I squeeze too hard. I don’t want to hurt you.” 
-“ Of course, now come here.” he said, opening his arms as she wrapped her own around him and hid her face in the crook of his neck
They stayed like this for a few minutes, just holding each other close until Lance felt a tingling sensation on his shoulder and his neck.
-“ Hey there, are you crying ?” he asked, softly rubbing her back
-“ ‘am not.” she said sniffling rather loudly
-“ Aw baby, I’m really okay. I know it must have been scary for you but it’s over now. Don’t worry your pretty head about it, I’m still in one piece.” 
-“ I know. I  really don’t know why I’m crying. It was really scary and I’m just glad I’m with you right now.” 
-“ Me too, pretty girl. Look at me now, please.” 
She took a small step back, looking at him with puffy eyes and a tight smile as Lance cupped her face between his hands and planted a kiss on her lips, placing a strand of her hair behind her ear. 
-“ As soon as I get discharged and I’m done with everything, we’re going back to the hotel and we’re going to take a long warm bath and relax together. Does that sound good ?” 
-“ Yes. Can we cuddle after that ?” 
-“ Of course, we can cuddle all you want and I’m not moving from bed until I really really have to.”
-“ Lance ?” 
-“ Yes, pretty girl ?” 
-“ I love you.” 
It wasn’t the first time she said it to him but somehow the circumstances made it even more emotional and Lance smiled before kissing her again, more intensely this time.
-“ I love you too, y/n. The doctors will be here soon but I don’t want you to be here in case there’s something, which I’m sure there won’t be” Lance quickly corrected himself when he felt her draw a sharp breath before continuing “ but just in case I’d rather you get back to the garage and pick up our things. Like that we can leave as soon as I’m done here and I’ll meet you in my driver’s room.” 
-“ No, I want to stay with you. I don’t care how stressful or scary it could be, it’ll be even more if I don’t know what’s happening.” 
-“ Pl–”
-“ Don’t you dare try and convince me otherwise. I’m staying whether you want it or not.” she stood her ground, feeling her voice quivering
-“ Alright, I’m not going to stop you. You’re way too cute for me to say no to anyway.” Lance chuckled, wiping a lone tear that had escaped from her eyes before kissing her forehead
-“ Thank you.” 
Before Lance could answer anything, the doctors came back in with the results and they listened to the results, a breath of relief leaving them both as they got told that Lance was all good to go. The worst thing that was going to happen to Lance now were a few bruises where the seat belt had done its job and a sore neck. If Lance felt relieved, what she felt was way more intense than him and she took a deep breath, finally feeling like this nightmare was coming to end before wrapping her hand around his as he stood up to leave. 
Once they were done, the couple got out of the room, ready to go back to the hotel and put this scary day behind them but Lawrence stopped them before they could make an escape. The older Stroll started by apologising to his son’s girlfriend for not bringing her with them but she quickly brushed it off, understanding how the situation must have been scary for the both of them so she didn’t hold him accountable for it. 
After clearing that up, Lawrence asked if he could speak to Lance alone so the girl went to sit a few metres away, finally taking the time to answer the texts from her worried friends and family, assuring them that Lance was in fact okay and that she was too. Lance came back a few minutes later with a relaxed smile on his face, holding out his hand for her to take before bringing her in for a hug. 
-“ What was that for ?” she laughed against his chest, surprised from the sudden display of attention in the middle of the far from empty corridor
-“ Nothing, I’m just happy. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” 
-“ What do you mean ?” 
-“ My dad and I talked and we agreed that even though nothing’s broken, maybe getting back in the car tomorrow isn’t the best idea and maybe resting would be more reasonable.” 
-“ Are you saying what I think you are right now ?” 
-“ You have me all to yourself until we leave for Japan, pretty girl.” 
-“ Finally something good about today.” she smiled a little brighter, holding Lance tighter 
-“ Let’s make it even better then, let’s go have that bath and cuddle in front of a movie.” 
-“ That sounds like a wonderful plan.” 
-“ Good because I’m not planning on letting go of you until we leave for the airport on Monday.” 
-“ You’re going to have to if you want to drive us back to the hotel.” she laughed at his sudden clinginess 
-“ Don’t give me ideas, pretty girl.” Lance retorted, pulling her into his arms and kissing her, smiling against her lips
Lawrence, who was still standing in the corridor, was glad to hear the two of them laugh freely after the crash. If it had been scary for him as a dad, he didn’t want to think about how it must have been for the girl. At least they were together now and hopefully by the time Lance would inevitably have to get back in the car, the incident would be long forgotten and she would be able to watch with the exact same smile she was showing Lance now as he made her spin around in his arms, the perfect picture of a happy couple.
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sook9i · 11 months
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— I SAID LOOK
. . . GENRE ! yeonjun x afab!reader | smut
. . . CONTAINS ! dom!yj, sub!reader, implied edging, fingering, mirror sex, choking, yj kinda rough, some marking (tried to keep readers skin color ambiguous as possible tho is it described that red from bite marks can be seen), finger sucking 😞, reader naked while jun is still semi-clothed, reader is a little…dazed, pet names (yeonjun called junnie; reader called baby, darling, handsome, pretty, & cute), i think that’s it lmk if i missed anything !
. . . WORD COUNT ! 772
. . . NOTES ! I hope you enjoy our first fic !! yeonjun posted that fucking photo and i lost all coherent thought 😵‍💫
. . . ADMIN ! written by fairy cal 🐱
“Come on, baby.” The voice is silky, devilish, right up behind your ear. “Look at me.”
Your head is filled to the brink with fog. All senses dulled and yet turned up to one hundred. The firm feeling of his thighs spread out beneath yours is driving you crazy. Yet the sound of his command swims in and out of your ears, never sticking. Your only response is to let out a high-pitched whine as you struggle to grind your hips back into his.
The movement is quickly brought to end as he delivers a sharp slap to the inside of your thigh, drawing out a gasp.
“No, darling,” His hand travels up your thigh and over your hips and stomach, fingers fleeting on your bare sternum, until a strong grip takes hold of your chin. “I said look.”
Your head is yanked away from his comforting shoulder, forced forward straight at the mirror. Yeonjun’s half-lidded eyes meet yours in the reflection. His black tresses dangle down into his sight-light, drawing more attention to the sly smirk hanging on his lips.
Oh how proud he is of himself to have you like this.
Focusing on yourself in the full-length, you see just how much damage he’s already done. Your neck is littered in red, unlikely to disappear for the next couple of days; Your thighs draped wide on top of his reveal the leaking wet in between them. He has you completely naked, while only his top remains bare. Looking into your eyes, the gaze is far away and you let out another soft whine. His other hand, draped upon your lap, inches ever closer to where you need him most. Still, he continues to refuse you.
He’d been so tired coming back into the hotel room. Shoulders sagging, eyes heavy, you wanted to do anything you could to make him feel better. Thinking maybe a massage or running him a bath perhaps. Three ruined orgasms later, you can barely think beyond how desperate you are for his touch.
“Aren’t you so handsome? Look at how pretty I’ve made my baby.” Suddenly so much more energetic the moment he had you in his lap, quickly submitting to every touch.
Two long fingers poke at your lips, signaling you to open them. You gladly do, letting the rough pads run across your tongue, pushing down the back of your throat. Your eyes flutter shut at the feeling. The gag reflex pushes back up your throat, you swallow it as it’s replaced with a whiny moan.
He pulls the fingers away and you quickly peel your eyes back open, watching dazedly as he trails them down to your clit. Keeping with a soft touch, he begins circling the nub, barely pressing down. He moves at a torturous pace. A mewl breaks out of your lips, squeaky and needy. The deep vibrations of his chuckle shake against your back. Every movement of his bare skin against you drives you deeper into a haze. The two fingers dip further down, spreading slick up and down your folds, toying at your wanting entrance.
“J-Junnie, please! Please, I’ll be so so good for you! Promise-Just please give me anything, please!” Your voice hikes up, feeling tears begin to bubble up in your eyes. Need taking over, your hips buck against his hold, trying for any sort of relief you can get.
“God,” Fingernails dig into your sides as he stops your movements. “You’re so fucking cute.”
In a moment his lips swallow up yours. Eating up every delicious moan that spills out once he finally pushes his fingers into you. The pace he sets is fast revealing a need comparable to yours. Two fingers stretch out your walls again and again with a slight sting, yet you still want more. Yeonjun seems to think the same as he soon adds in another. That draws out a moan which he lets ring out, pulling away from your lips and back down to your neck. There his teeth scrape on the red skin. Pain fogs up your senses until it leaks into aphrodisiacal pleasure. Bombarded with so many sensations when he places his thumb back to roll circles around your clit; your head lolls back onto his shoulder and your eyes screw shut. The sounds you release grow higher and louder with every second past. Your high creeps up closer and closer, so close to finally getting there.
Yeonjun’s free hand soon finds purchase tight around your neck; grip harsh when he squeezes and forces your head back up. “I told you to look, baby. Watch how I ruin you.”
433 notes · View notes
vibrantbirdy · 10 months
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You are so incredibly talented! I love reading all of your works! : )
Could I request a Cal Kestis x female reader (or OC, no preference really). I’ve been super into the game recently and just love his character. Maybe a really strong female character, but she gets flustered by Cal’s confidence, and how much she has grown to like him more than friends. I totally see him being a complete flirt (but still sweet). Haha. I’ve always had this idea that it would be cool for a force user to show someone what it’s like by holding their hand and pulling something to them (like aiding them in using the force). Stupid maybe I don’t know lol, basically Cal being suave and laying it on thick. Fluff, crack, little spice, I’m here for whatever creative piece you get going ❤️
Firstly, thank you for your lovely words! Secondly, yay, Cal! Thank you, I'm glad someone's asked for Cal, this is a cute prompt.
Character x Reader requests are currently open in my Asks. Please read the guidelines first. Masterlist of my fics can be found here.
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Title: Proximity Fandom: Star Wars Jedi Fallen Order/Survivor Games Setting: Prior to events of Jedi Survivor Genres: Sci-fi; Romance; Fluff - This is tooth-rotting fluff with a little added spice as requested ;) Warnings: This fic is 18+ so please heed and respect the adult rating. Descriptions of sexual longing/arousal; one scene of strong consensual sex - nothing too descriptive but probably on the borderline of (hopefully still sweet) mild smut. Pairing: Cal Kestis x Female Reader Chapters: 1/1 (Complete) Word Count: approx 5.5k (Because I have no self control) Summary: You are an accomplished Coruscanti thief who has been recruited by the Rebel Jedi, Cal Kestis. As you join him and his crew on their adventures aboard the Mantis, you and Cal have to navigate your growing feelings for each other.
You are standing in some Imperial-worshipping Senator's private vault in a bank nestled deep in the heart of Coruscant's palatial financial district. You've just located your prize - a data stick containing the names of high standing political and military figures within the Empire who have Republic, perhaps even Rebel leaning sympathies.
It's the Senator's insurance policy, his get out of jail free card - something he can produce at the eleventh hour in case his unwavering loyalty to the Empire turns out not to be enough to save him from the pull and push of the Imperial tide of oppression swelling across the Galaxy.
You'll sell the data stick to one Rebel faction or another, whoever is willing to pay most for your service in getting information out of Imperial hands and aiding the Rebel's recruitment drive in the process.
You're in the middle of internally congratulating yourself on successfully extracting the data stick from its complex security casing when a male voice, almost conversational in tone, rings out behind you.
"I can't let you leave with that."
Startled, you whirl around to see a man standing no more than a meter away from you. You wonder how long he's been there, watching you.
He has bright ginger hair which is swept back from his face, short at the back and sides, but longer on top and slightly ruffled. His matching red stubble sits on his cheeks, chin, upper-lip and travels up his well-defined jawline to his ears. He is dressed simply in a fawn shirt, dark grey pants, and sturdy brown boots.
A small red and white droid, bipedal, with a flat rectangular head and two photoreceptors, one slightly larger and beadier than the other, hangs almost casually off his shoulder like a pet. It's a BD unit, you think.
Both the man and the droid are rather dirty, but then, so are you after squeezing your way through a maze of dusty ventilation shafts. It makes sense the only possible way they could have gotten in here is the same way you did.
The stranger is holding something metal in his right hand that glints occasionally in the vault's dim security lighting, but you can't quite work out what it is. A weapon?
You raise your blaster.
"Don't!" he shouts, holding out a palm towards you, "The vault is magnetically sealed, if you miss, that bolt's going to cause us both a world of problems."
You raise an eyebrow because one, you already know that, and two...
"Bold of you to assume I'll miss at point blank range," you say levelly.
You keep your weapon trained steadily at the young man's chest.
He adjusts his grip on whatever it is he is holding and a green beam of light extends from the hilt of what you now realise is a lightsaber. A deep thrumming sound resonates around the small chamber.
A Jedi. Great.
You thought they were all extinct after the Emperor's purge. Briefly, childhood memories of evening strolls with your parents past the monumental ziggurat of the Jedi temple glowing golden in the low Coruscanti sun flash through your mind. You remember the thrill of excitement at seeing the Jedi, elegant and regal in their grand robes, lightsabers clinking at their belts as they swept by on important Republic business.
Right now? Here? This is the last place you want to see one.
The light from the blade illuminates the young man's face which, you have to admit, is a rather attractive combination of youthful and rugged. His nose and cheeks are peppered with freckles and his eyes contain green irises so deep in colour that they almost match his blade. A thin, red scar runs almost horizontally across the bridge of his nose, dipping down onto his right cheek. The ghost of a smirk is now playing on his lips and it has the irritating effect of making him more handsome.
You don't know why, but for some reason, you trust him instinctively not to try and cut you in half with that humming beam of hot, vibrating energy. At a stalemate, you lower your blaster. He follows your lead by deactivating the blade of his saber immediately.
"If you make me a good offer, you can have this right now," you say, one hand on your hip, the other waving the data stick in front of him impatiently.
You never like staying on the scene of a job too long and you are starting to feel on edge.
"I've got ... uhhh ... one hundred credits?"
He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly as he speaks. He knows it's a stupidly lowball offer and you scoff loudly to let him know you think so too.
"Look, I know the ISB would pay a lot for information like this but..."
"I don't sell to the Empire," you snarl, cutting him off.
He holds up his hands in a gesture of apology which seems genuine enough. He tries again.
"I really need to get this to a contact in the Mid Rim..."
"The Mid Rim?" you interrupt abruptly, "that's off-world."
"Yeah..." his brow furrows and a slow, quizzical smile spreads across his face at the obviousness of your statement.
You curse yourself for being as predictable as a cheap holo novel. All your life you've lived on Coruscant. You've never been anywhere else. These days, the endless maze of unnatural, lifeless spires and struts and blocks of artificial construction seem to press in and in and in on you so that, despite the sprawling size of the metropolis, it feels like you are living in a tiny metal cage.
Still, this stranger didn't need to know that, and you realise you've given him his angle - a bargaining chip.
"I can't buy it off you," he reasons, "I don't have the credits, but I do have a proposal. Work with me and my crew. It's regular and we're rarely on one world for too long..."
There it is...
You got in here," he continues, gesturing around the vault, "we could use someone with your skill set. And, you get to piss off the Empire in the process."
You consider his offer. You are used to working alone and you don't like the complications that come with relying on others. Trusting anyone is difficult after fending for yourself, all alone, so successfully and for so long....
But with the Empire continuing to close their fist around all aspects of daily life, work was difficult to come by on Coruscant these days. Thieving in the city from Imperial targets in particular was becoming more and more fraught with danger.
While it riled you that he was able to read you so easily, really, what did you have to lose? Because by the Force did you not want to get off Coruscant? Isn't this what you'd been waiting for your whole life? An adventure?
"One job," you counter pragmatically, extending your hand to shake his, "And we'll see how it goes from there."
"Cal Kestis," he introduces himself with a disarmingly friendly smile, "And deal."
*************************************************
One job turns into another then another and another. Weeks turn into months and soon you've been on Cal's ship - well, borrowed ship you had come to learn - the Mantis for nearly half a year.
You've grown close with the crew of the Mantis. Cal, Gabs, Bravo and the two hulking Klatooinine twins, Lizz and Koob. This type of camaraderie is new to you. You really thought you'd struggle with it, that your independent nature would rail against the confines of living in close quarters with ship mates and fitting your own whims and desires and wants around others. In reality, you've never felt more at home. You didn't realise how lonely you had become before.
And the missions you run with the crew are exhilarating. This new life is so much more than just pilfering here and there from the Empire. You feel like you are really making a difference, like you're spitting directly in the face of the Imperial machine with every job. You feel like a Rebel.
It's not all sabotage and espionage and fighting Stormtroopers though. Off duty, life on the Mantis is mainly based around friendly joshing and winding each other up. And the dull minutiae of life still goes on.
Like now.
You and Cal are patching up the Mantis while the others are out on a supply run. You are currently crouched on your haunches so that the service hatch you are examining on one of the walls inside the ship is at eye level.
Cal is stood behind you, arms folded across his chest. You've been arguing good naturedly about what the problem is with the engine cooling system for an hour and you are now impatiently waiting for BD-1 to finish his scan to find out which one of you is right.
The little droid crawls out from the tangle of wires and gives you little nod and a boop of approval. You pat BD on his rectangular head and he scurries up your arm and on to your shoulder.
"I told you that was the problem," you say, craning your neck to look up at Cal with a triumphant grin.
You gesture to the wiring tool in his hand.
"Give that to me, I'll do it."
The Jedi looks down at the small instrument in his hand then tosses it up in the air and catches it again. He has that mischievous look on his face, the one you've learned to recognise as a sign that he's about to do something really annoying.
"Kestis..." you warn standing up, unable to stop your lips curling into a smile.
You make a lunge for the tool in his hand, but he's too quick. In a flash, he's holding it up above his head. Cal is almost a head taller than you and there's no way you can reach that high, even when you stretch up onto your tiptoes.
Instead, you decide to play dirty. You jab him hard in both his sides with your fingers where you know he's ticklish. He makes a funny sort of snorting noise in surprise and his hand drops for long enough that you manage to snatch the tool from him and make off with it at great speed.
Cal darts after you, both of you careering in to the kitchen of the Mantis, the thud and scrape of your boots on the ship's durasteel grated floor ringing throughout the ship in chorus with your laughter.
BD-1 takes this opportunity to leap of your shoulder and onto the kitchen table with an indignant whirr, determined not to get involved in this organic tomfoolery.
Cal is on you in seconds. He grabs you around the middle and lifts you off the ground with ease, spinning you around and deliberately tickling you in between making grabs for the wiring tool.
You squeal and let out perhaps the most ridiculous giggle to ever escape your mouth. You can't let him get away with forcing you to make a noise like that so you elbow him in the stomach. It's only a gentle prod really, but it's enough to make him grunt and let go of you.
As Cal doubles over, winded, you sprint back around to the opposite side of kitchen table holding the instrument aloft and performing a little victory dance.
Across the table, Cal straightens and, with a cocky look on his face, he stretches his arm out towards you. You stumble forwards slightly as if pulled forwards by an invisible rope tied around your wrist as he uses the Force to tear the tool easily out of your hand and bring it flying through the air to rest in his own outstretched palm.
"That's cheating!" you say, breathlessly.
Despite your half-hearted admonishment, in reality, you're delighted. And you're certain Cal knows it. The more time you spend with him, the more that old fascination you held as a child with the strange powers of the Jedi has returned. You are always enchanted by Cal's displays of Force ability.
"Alright kids, we almost ready to go?" Gabs' voice echoing through from the Mantis' doorway signals the return of the others.
Cal shrugs at you and you both grin, panting from your exertions. Keeping his green eyes locked on yours, he backs casually towards the door to help Gabs and the others load up the supply crates. Just before he exits the ship, he tosses the wiring tool to you underarm and you catch it with an elaborate flourish and twirl that makes him laugh.
You return to your work fixing the Mantis's cooling system with BD-1. You try to concentrate, but you feel slightly giddy. You can still feel Cal's strong arms against your body as if they remain wrapped around you. His masculine scent, pleasant and earthy and fresh like petrichor, seems to linger in your proximity and on your skin.
BD-1 tries his best to keep you right. He trills or nudges you every so often either to correct your wiring or to encourage you to stop staring into space with that inane, absent-minded smile.
When you lie in your cot bed that night, the hum of the Mantis' hyperdrive lulls you into a comfortable drowsiness and your thoughts return, unbidden, to Cal.
Over the past few months, it's like the very idea of him nestled deep into your brain and now refuses to budge. Every morning when you wake, you look forward to the sight of his honest, open, expressive face. The warmth of his slightly crooked smile. The way his red brows arch when he finds something funny before he squeezes his eyes shut so tight that they crinkle at the corners as he throws back his head, letting out peels of joyful, open-mouthed laughter.
Even when he has those strange moments of quiet introspection which you don't quite understand yet, you find it hard not to watch him. You can't help it, even although you sometimes feel like you are intruding on a private, sacred moment of reflection. It's always the same. His eyes glaze over as he stares out into the distance at nothing, a muscle works in his chiselled jaw, and then his head drops as if in dignified, melancholic prayer. These periods never last too long - not when he has a crew to lead.
There's no point in denying it anymore, at least not to yourself anyway. Your feelings for Cal go beyond comradeship; beyond friendship. And a hopeful notion has formed in your head that he might actually feel the same way about you.
It's both frightening and exhilarating at the same time.
A sudden heat blooms deep within your very core and rises in your cheeks as your mind conjures the image, no, the feeling of Cal's solid, toned body, pressed against yours in a feverish, impassioned embrace, your limbs entwined, fingers woven tightly through the flames of his red hair
Force, you want him.
You place a palm against the cool durasteel wall above your head that separates your room from the Jedi's. You wonder what he's thinking of on the other side of the thin sheet of metal.
****************************************
Cal Kestis can't sleep. Like most Jedi, he can't actually read the thoughts of others, but his connection to the Force allows him to feel the emotions and state of mind of those around him.
Over the past few months, the Jedi has noticed your feelings for him blossoming into something more than friendship, mirroring the growth of his own affections for you.
But tonight, Cal can sense that something in your emotional frequency has changed. Evolved. A clarity, a new and vigorous and glorious certainty in your desire for him radiates incandescent through the Force. It's like the smouldering embers of a fire have ignited into a ferocious blaze.
As the feeling permeates through the thin sheet-metal wall dividing you, the intensity of it, the heat of it, drives him crazy. He wants to rip through the flimsy partition separating you and give you everything you want from him and more. His whole body is aflame with almost painful arousal and he is aching to bring himself release.
Cal resists, teetering on the very edge of giving himself over to his desire. Is this voyeuristic? Is he trespassing? Crossing some unspoken line? Should he be trying to block you out? He doesn't know.
The Jedi hisses through his teeth in frustration. Reluctantly, he rolls out of bed and, sinking to his knees on the floor, surrenders himself to the Force in search of whatever temporary solace he can find in meditation.
Even as he does so, he knows that the only real relief he'll be able to get now is if he can find it with you.
***************************************
The crew of the Mantis are taking some time to rest after a run of particularly eventful jobs. You've landed on the quiet world of Brax at the edge of the Mid Rim. It's a beautiful, lush planet adorned with meadows of wildflowers, glassy lakes and sprawling coniferous forests.
Everyone is making the most of their down time.
Gabs and Bravo have gone off for a hike in the nearby woods.
BD-1 is having a well earned oil bath on the Mantis.
The twins are snoozing in the meadow amongst the flowers. When you'd crept past them earlier, you'd smiled fondly - the peaceful serenity on their faces was such an odd juxtaposition to their usual chaotic enthusiasm for life.
Having successfully sneaked past Lizz and Koob without waking them, you are now sitting atop a large slab of rock which juts up and out of the meadow. You alternate between admiring the view of the lake and cleaning your blaster.
It is a warm day, but a gentle cooling breeze keeps the heat at bay. A gust suddenly whips up the heady, sweet smell of wildflowers all around you. For some reason the scent triggers something inside you, your heart suddenly full to bursting with a strange concoction of melancholy and joy.
To think that all this beauty, all this Galaxy was just out here, waiting, your whole life. And if you'd never met Cal, you might still be crawling through filthy ventilation shafts smelling of metal and damp and darkness just to get by on Coruscant.
You are just about ready to reassemble your weapon when you look up from your task towards where the Jedi is meditating with his back to you. He's kneeling a few meters in front of you on the sandy shore by the still water. You always think it's strange how he chooses to sit on his knees, rather than cross-legged. It looks uncomfortable to you, but he seems to be able to sit like that for anywhere up to an hour. Maybe you'll ask him about it one day.
Cal is shirtless. Even from here, you can see the freckles littered like celestial constellations across his strong back and down his broad shoulders and muscled arms. You take the opportunity to admire the outlines and angles of his taut, athletic body.
You start as the Jedi begins to stand. You'd rather not get caught staring at him quite so openly and you quickly shift your gaze back to your blaster which is still in its various component parts.
Cal turns and advances towards you up the beach and onto the grassy meadow. You pretend not to have noticed him at all, but you keep catching glimpses of him in your peripheral vision. He walks a few paces, then stops and looks around as if he's searching for something on the ground. Then he crouches down. He does this several times.
What is he up to?
"Hey," Cal says casually as he finally wanders over to you.
He has to crane his neck to speak to you, perched as you are on top of your rock, and use a hand to shield his eyes from the sun. He's hiding something behind his back you realise.
"Oh, hey," you reply, as if you're surprised to see him there.
He pulls his hand from behind his back and reaches up to you. In his grasp is a bunch of wildflowers, beautiful pastel blues and pinks and purples.
You exclaim softly in surprise, a rather giddy sound that makes Cal beam up at you. As you take the blooms from him, his fingertips, calloused and tough from years of wielding a weapon in combat, brush gently against your hand. Even that small touch feels like a spark of electricity arching between you.
"See you at dinner," he says, and he's clearly pleased with himself as he retreats towards the Mantis, head held high, a jaunt in his step.
As you twist in your seated position to watch him disappear into the ship, you realise you were so enchanted by the gesture that you forgot to say thank you.
That's the thing about Cal Kestis. He's completely disarming. He has a rare, effortless charisma and an easy, flirtatious way about him that is somehow both sweet and suave at the same time. Few men you've met have ever managed to render you so flustered.
You look down at the delicate blooms in your hand and bring them to your nose, inhaling their fresh scent. Smiling to yourself, you shake loose the functional way you usually wear your hair to keep it out of your face and retie it, carefully weaving the wildflowers that Cal has picked for you through your locks.
When you come in for dinner - Bravo's turn to cook - Cal is already sitting at the kitchen table. He looks up and inclines his head to the side as he takes you in, his eyes widening. You blush furiously to see the genuine pleasure at the sight of you and your decorated hair written so openly on his face.
Amid the usual convivial hubbub and chaos of dinner in the Mantis' kitchen, you and Cal steal glances at each other across the table.
**********************************************
That evening, the moon is low and yellow in Brax's dark sky, hanging like a ball of golden light above the lake. You have an hour or so before you all depart for a rendezvous with a contact on Naboo. It's the twins' turn to do pre-flight checks and you find yourself on the shores of the water, skimming stones with Cal to kill time.
Before joining the crew of the Mantis you'd never skimmed a stone in your life. Not many places to do that on Coruscant. But Gabs in particular is an ace at it and she's taught you well.
Cal spots a likely candidate for his next projectile and he brings it flying casually into his hand using his Jedi abilities.
"What does it feel like like?" You ask, suddenly.
Cal smiles at you, seemingly understanding that you are talking about the Force. He hesitates for a second, looking down at the stone in his open palm. Then he places it back on the ground in an obvious position, nestled in the sand a few feet in front of you, and moves round to stand behind you.
He's so close you can feel his heart beating against his chest. Instinctively, you lean back into him, enjoying the safe feeling that his nearness gives you, and the warmth of his body against yours in the chill night air.
"It's time for instruction," he says softly.
He's said that phrase before when he's showing anyone how to do something new. You've come to understand that it's a fond impression of his late Master's dignified voice - a touching habit you've always thought.
Tonight it sounds different. His tone is light and teasing, but the smirk you can hear as he speaks makes the words sound almost seductive in a way that causes something to flip then tighten in the pit of your abdomen.
"Hold out your hand."
You extend your right arm, holding your palm outwards as you've seen Cal do many times. He places his own palm against the back of your hand and interlocks his fingers with yours.
His other hand comes to rest at your waist, pulling you ever so slightly closer into him. He doesn't need to put it there and you both know it. Nor does he need to rest his chin on your left shoulder, so close to your cheek that his stubble almost tickles your skin.
Yet you can tell that you are both revelling in this rare, private opportunity for proximity between the two of you, and it is as thrilling as it is maddening.
"Focus. Breathe."
You realise you've been holding your breath. You feel Cal's chest rising and falling against your back and you match your own breathing in time with his. You can't help but notice it's at a slightly elevated pace.
"See the stone in your hand."
You nod and exhale, your eyes boring into the rock as if you really are going to levitate it yourself. You try and fail to stifle a sudden giggle at the ridiculousness of such an idea.
"Concentrate," Cal scolds quietly in your ear but you can hear the smile in his voice as the hand round your waist tightens its grip ever so slightly.
"I am," you mutter, but it's only half true.
You wonder if it's just your imagination, but in the seconds that follow, you think you can feel an deep, vibration flowing through Cal and passing through his body and into yours, binding your lifeforces together.
The rock flies so suddenly into your palm that you jump. You just about remember to close your fingers around the stone's cool, smooth surface as you shout out in surprise and delight. Cal lets out a good-natured laugh at your reaction and you glow as it rumbles through his whole body and yours.
You've just made up your mind to twist around in his arms kiss him when BD-1 comes running through the grass at great speed on his little legs, beeping and chirping urgently.
"Ok buddy, ok, we're coming," Cal says kindly to the little droid, but you can hear the exasperation at the untimely interruption in his voice.
*******************************************
Course set, the Mantis is travelling at lightspeed and, nestled safely in the cradle of the hyperlane, you will probably make it to Naboo in about six hours.
You suspect the rest of the crew are all sleeping soundly. The Mantis takes care of herself for the most part when travelling through hyperspace. With the life you lead, the importance of catching rest when you can cannot be underestimated.
You, however, cannot sleep. Thoughts of Cal and your interrupted moment by the lake race through your mind. The wildflowers he gave you are still in your hair and every so often you catch the ghost of their aroma, reminding you of your almost idyllic day on Brax.
You sigh and drag yourself out of bed, deciding to go and sit in the empty cockpit of the Mantis for a while and watch the stars race by as you hurtle through the hyperlane. Although it should really be frightening, you love to watch great swathes of the Galaxy disappear in a flash before your eyes as the Mantis catapults through space. It's a novel experience for you still - being off Coruscant, light speed travel, new worlds.
You wave your hand over the control and the door to your room hisses open. You jump to see a figure already standing there in the corridor. With a jolt of excitement, and with a strange feeling that you've summoned him somehow, you realise that it's Cal.
"Uh, hi.."
You don't let him get more than two words into his sentence. You grab him roughly by the front of his loose night shirt - which is slung low, revealing tufts of ginger hair on his chest and the elegant lines of his collarbone - and pull him into a deep kiss.
Not breaking away from your lips, and hardly hesitating, he picks you with almost alarming ease. You wrap your legs around his waist and curl your fingers in his red hair as he carries you back into your quarters. He places you up onto your workbench situated against the opposite wall as the door slides closed behind you.
"You look so pretty with those flowers in your hair," he mumbles into your neck you shiver with pleasure as his mouth brushes against your skin as he talks.
"Yes, it's a shame you're about to make such a mess of me," you whisper into his ear.
He pulls back to stare at you for a moment, green eyes wide as if dumbfounded by your forwardness. His delighted, slack-jawed expression forces a loud giggle from deep within you.
"Shhh," Cal warns emphatically, keenly aware of the proximity of the rest of the crew and how thin the walls of the Mantis are. He presses a kiss to your mouth in an attempt to silence your outburst, but you can feel his body shake with his own barely contained laughter as he grins against your lips.
Once your stifled mirth subsides, you hastily start to undress each other. You barely have time to appreciate the now naked, muscular form of the Jedi before you, when, in his enthusiasm to remove it, Cal accidentally rips your flimsy night dress away from your body. As it comes apart in his hands, the fabric makes a loud tearing sound, louder even perhaps than that of your previous bouts of laughter. You both freeze, as if anticipating someone will burst through the door and catch you in this compromising position, before dissolving into poorly restrained giggles again.
As he drinks in the sight of your body, Cal's expression changes into something primal. His brows knit together as if he is trying to understand how you could possibly be sitting in front of him like this. Then, his pupils dilate and his nostrils flare before he crashes his mouth back down on to yours into a deliciously rough kiss.
You don't move from your position on your workbench, and you coil your legs around Cal as tight as you can as he starts to move in you. The pace is urgent. You don't mind. There'll be opportunities for languid and gentle love-making in the future. Right now, this is a matter of need for both of you. The cord of tension that has been tightening between you for months finally snapping in a glorious, frenzied, explosion of mutual lust.
As his pace increases and his movements start to become uncoordinated, Cal moves a hand down between your bodies, splaying his palm against you, and settling the pad of his thumb between your legs at the very place you most need it to be.
At this, your hand which was tangled in his flaming hair flies down to join the other at his back and he growls as you claw your fingers in to his flesh between his shoulder blades.
You press your lips hard into his shoulder to muffle your cries as you approach your peak and then, suddenly, you are crashing over the edge and seeing stars. You gasp out his name, over and over, open mouthed and breathy against his ear.
This, combined with the sensation of your body in rapture, sends Cal hurtling towards his own oblivion. You cling to him while the great, strong muscles all over his body tense and release, and he lets out a long, shuddering groan into your neck that is almost a whimper.
The sight of him, the sound of him falling apart in front of you is beautiful.
Once you've both caught your breath, Cal lifts you gently off the table, and carries you to your tiny, single cot bed. You manage to position yourselves fairly comfortably in the snug space by lying on your sides. The Jedi has one arm laced underneath you with the other slung over your waist, hand resting on your stomach and holding you close to his warm chest.
As you are lulled almost into a doze by the sound and feel of his slow and steady heartbeat, you take in the rather sorry sight of the flowers which once bejewelled your hair, now scattered in ruin across the functional durasteel floor.
"I told you those flowers wouldn't last," you muse drowsily.
Propping himself up on one elbow, Cal removes his hand from your waist and reaches out his arm, palm splayed open. A blue bell flower, stem and petals astonishingly still intact- a brave survivor of the onslaught of urgent hands through your hair - floats lazily up from the floor and towards you on the bed.
Cal plucks it out of the air and gently weaves the bloom into your locks just above your ear. Then, he kisses you gently on the cheek and then on your shoulder, his beard tickling your skin, before sinking back down on to his side and resuming his previous position curled comfortingly around you.
For some reason, despite the eroticism of what you've just done together, this sweet gesture makes you flush disproportionately and you feel your cheeks turning pink.
You're starting to realise, perhaps hope, that the heady feeling of being slightly flustered in Cal Kestis' proximity might never go away.
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hier--soir · 1 year
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under the night | one
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summary: joel miller is a grump, but he likes to think old dogs can be taught new tricks pairing: joel miller x f!reader, set in jackson after the end of tlou part I warnings/tags: [18+ only, minors dni] language, nightmares, discussions of sex, slow-ish burn, age gap [20ish years], grumpy!joel, potential jealousy word count: 7.3k series masterlist | main masterlist a/n: first time i've posted any of my own stuff in ages, but i've been loving writing for joel so thought i'd share!
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Wyoming was a state you had never visited before the outbreak, so it was strange that 22 years on, it had become your home. It was Summer when you and Cal arrived in Jackson, and six months on, you could feel Winter’s grip steadily descending upon the town. The area seemed to be cloudy year-round, but the way the air had begun to chill as of late was something you’d not quite experienced before. Cold as it was, living there was quiet, and peaceful.
The settlement was led by a strong woman named Maria, and her husband Tommy, who had welcomed you and Cal with a wary kindness. Offered you safety, and a place to live, in exchange for hard work and your dedication to supporting the community. After so many years travelling the barren, infected country alone, the pair of you were awkward, and fumbled your way through meeting so many new people.
Jackson wasn’t the first place you’d tried to settle down in. Over the span of a decade, you’d crossed the country what felt like twice over, relying solely on each other, but never quite feeling like anywhere was home except for when you were alone together. This place proved you wrong though – the people proved you wrong. They were self-sufficient here, a working community, where everyone was equal, and the leaders were kind, and trustworthy; two characteristics that you and Cal hadn’t encountered in other people in a long time.
The home Maria and Tommy provided you was modest, and a fixer-upper if you had ever seen one. God, the day they’d arrived, you’d let out an exhausted laugh when Tommy pulled on the knob of the front door, and it cracked off its hinges.
“Nothing a good screw won’t fix,” Cal had chuckled, wanting to appear optimistic in front of Tommy.
Regardless of the state of the place, you and Cal made it your home in quick work. Cal made friends quickly, the way he always had. He was tall and gangly; all long limbs and sandy blonde hair, and he had a crooked toothed smile that endeared people to him almost instantly. You, on the other hand, were blunt, your body lean and strong as a result of years of physical exertion, and you were always the more stubborn of the two. You were a perfect dichotomy beside each other; sweet and salty. Stony, and withdrawn, you had always used your closest friend as a crutch during rare social interactions. You were familiar with all of the violence, and pain that came with the world, and as you grew up, had become so delightfully unsure when it came to being shown warmth.
Maria took you under her wing, introducing you to the people at the stables you would be working alongside, and encouraging you to find solace in the group of warriors that made up the women of Jackson. For the most part, people were kind and welcoming. With time, they didn’t pause and stare when you walked along the street, unsure of the newcomers.
People shared stories about others who had come through Jackson before you and Cal, and about the histories of those who still lived there. Sometimes, as you sat on the porch of the house, you’d watch people walk by, share a polite wave, and try to pin the stories to the faces you were seeing.
“I met Tommy’s brother today,” Cal started one evening. “Bit of a prick.”
Your eyebrow raised slightly, amused that someone could piss off one of the more jovial people you’d ever known. “What’s wrong with him, was he wearing double denim?”
Cal lifted his bowl of soup to his mouth and slurped down the last few drops. Wiping his mouth messily, he shook his head. “I don’t know about that guy. Remember Tommy told us about him?” You did remember Tommy vaguely mentioning that his brother had arrived on the settlement a year or so before you and Cal arrived.
“He keeps to himself for the most part,” Tommy had jested, his eyes glazing over for a moment as he thought of his brother. “But he’s a goodin, does good work for this town.”
“Whatever,” Cal changed his tune. “I shouldn’t let it bother me, he was just rude is all. Called me newbie twice, even though he knows my name. Seems to like being a big dog around here.”
You hummed to show you were still listening, tearing off a piece of bread and stuffing it in your mouth. “Seems only fair that if Tommy is kind, his brother would’ve turned out an ass. Isn’t that how we work?” He snorted out a laugh, and that was the last you spoke of it.
It wasn’t for another week or so until you met the man yourself. It’d been a long day spent at the stables, basking in the beating sun while working alongside a few others. The horses were huge creatures, and it took you a while to get used to their nature. It’d been so long since an animal hadn’t been a threat to you, but a few weeks on, and you’d found yourself ending the workdays by taking a ride around on your favourite mare Dot.
You and Cal’s home was on the opposite side of town, and on your walk through you passed faces that had become familiar. You small talked and smiled until your jaw ached, and by the time you bumped into him, you’d already reached your pleasantry quota for the day.
He had a bag of vegetables hung over his shoulder in a linen sack, and was making quiet conversation with his brother, when you walked by.
Tommy called out your name, waving you over to them. Your feet and shoulders ached, but you slapped a half smile on your face as you sidled up to the pair. “I’d been hoping to catch you, Maria’s wondering when you’re free for dinner this week.”
“Oh, whenever she wants me,” you nodded, chest warming in an odd way at the invitation. Your gaze flitted curiously to the tall man standing beside Tommy. You’d seem him around before, many times actually, but never realised he was the infamous brother.
Oftentimes, you’d noticed him because, 7 times out of 10, the same young girl would be plodding along beside him, chattering away incessantly. You had assumed they were a father and daughter on those occasions, but now understanding this was Joel, you knew better. Cal had explained it to you when he found out, about how Tommy’s brother had a kid living with him, but it wasn’t his. The idea of it didn’t seem too strange to you, considering most of the people living in Jackson were found families, not blood. 
He was tall, taller than Tommy, with a more wrinkled and tanned face. Dark hair with streaks of grey, and a short beard. Obviously. the older brother. Thicker than Tommy too, the invasive thought flashed through your mind, as your eyes glanced over his arms.
Ignorant to your curious eyeballing, Joel jerked his head in your direction, and asked, “The other newbie?” He had a distinctly husky Texan drawl, and his voice was deep, as if he spoke from the very depths of his stomach.
“Yeah,” Tommy nodded, and introduced the two of you with a smile. “She’s doing some great work for us round the stables, the horses have taken a good liking to her already.”
You shared a polite nod and held out your hand for greeting. Joel barely met your eyes, before gripping your hand once. One firm shake, before dropping it like it stung him. You thought you noticed him even wipe his hand off on his jeans. Rude motherfucker.
He didn’t say anymore, and seemed to just wait for you to go so he could continue his conversation from before you showed up.
“Well,” you said. “I’ll get out of your hair boys. Be good.” A short laugh fell from Tommy’s mouth, and you thought you caught a surprised expression on Joel’s face as you turned and continued walking in the direction of home.
You crossed paths a few more times that Summer, but always briefly. He constantly had somewhere to be, or a job he was on his way to completing – never without an excuse to cut a conversation with you short. You didn’t particularly mind his disinterest in small talk. In fact, you found it somewhat refreshing after a few interactions with him. Finally, one other person in this town who wasn’t friendly, or willing to fake interest in you just because you were new in town.
One day you and Cal went on a ride along with Tommy as he patrolled the area surrounding the settlement. Nothing serious, just him showing you both around the area, telling you about what abnormalities he kept an eye out for when he went out of the safety of the gates.
The trio had been out for an hour or so before a rustle in the woods a hundred metres back caught their attention. Your hackles rose, and you reached for the gun strapped to your hip instinctively, prepared to see an infected emerge from the brush. But Joel Miller rode up to your group quickly, a deep scowl settling on his face when he spotted his brother’s company.
“What’s wrong?” Tommy asked his brother.
“Maria wants you back home,” he said gruffly. “Said it’s getting late; said if you’re not back in time for dinner she’ll lock your ass out.” His gaze twitched quickly over to you and Cal, who were watching him curiously. “Why are the newbies with you?”
Joel wasn’t afraid to talk about you two as if you weren’t there, didn’t care how it came across, and you understood this was probably why some people in Jackson weren’t very fond of him.
“Just showing them the area, they oughta know what we get up to out here every day,” Tommy said amiably. “The real question is, why are you doin’ my wife’s bidding?”
He huffed in response, shaking his head ever so slightly. “Maria’s the boss,” is all he said, before gripping the reins and encouraging his horse to take off in the direction he came from. When it was just the three of you again, you felt your shoulders sag, and let out a low whistle, as if to say, jeez, lighten up.
Not a week later, Cal told you, “His face has the same thing yours has, you know.” You were sharing lunch outside the stables, when Joel had shown up to take one of the horses for a patrol.
“What the fuck does that mean?” you’d asked incredulously. He held his hands up in defence, coughing lightly around his mouthful of food.
“No, no, don’t bed mad,” he paused, laughing more. “But… c’mon, I couldn’t help but notice…”
“Notice what? Why the fuck can’t you finish your sentence.” You were impatient, and the sun was beating down on you, and Joel was only 10 metres away, saddling up.
“You both have this set of wrinkles in between your eyebrows,” he finally admitted, smirking. “I’d say it’s because you’ve both been frowning for the past twenty years straight, if I had to guess.” You relaxed the frown on your face instantly, making Cal laugh harder. A warmth rose in your face as you realised you’d attracted Joel’s attention, and he was glancing at you from across the grass.
“I don’t frown all the time,” you muttered under your breath, giving Joel a courteous nod goodbye as he rode out on the horse.
“Of course you don’t, sunshine, my mistake,” Cal had agreed sarcastically, waving a hand at Joel in farewell.
After that, whenever you saw him, your lips twitched as you noticed the wrinkle in the middle of his forehead, and you reminded yourself to relax your own. Not enough room in Jackson for two permanent frowns, you thought to yourself, and his takes the cake. ‘Grumpy’ was a good descriptor for him. On the rare occasion you saw him smile or laugh, it was when the girl was around.
You had noticed the way she’d tell him a joke and a begrudging smile would grace his face, only for him to cough, or reach up and place a hand over his mouth, to avoid anyone else taking notice. Of course, you would notice the girl grinning with glee at making her companion laugh. It was sweet. The fondness between them was palpable, and you had to fight the curiosity inside you that wondered what had brought them together.
When, at long last, you finally met Ellie, it all made sense. The girl was insufferably chatty with some precocious snark to boot, and she had an impressive attention to detail; a 5’4” spitfire with a mess of mousy brain hair. She was no bullshit, and you trusted her instantly.
“I was wondering when I’d meet the newbie I’d been hearing about,” Ellie had smirked, holding out a sweaty hand in greeting.   
“Sorry it took so long, everyone wants a piece of the me these days,” you feigned a sigh, smiling when the young girl laughed.
“Do you like it here?” she asked inquisitively, and you nodded. “I’ve seen you a few times, but you always seemed busy, or were with that other guy.” “Jackson is great, me and Cal are happy to be here,” you confided. “I’ve seen you round a lot too, with your-“ you cut yourself off before the word ‘father’ came out. “With Joel.”
“Oh, you know Joel!”
“No, not really,” you clarified quickly. “He pops up here and there… what a laugh that guy is.” For a moment you were worried the joke wouldn’t land, but when a squeaky laugh pealed out of Ellie’s mouth you relaxed, and laughed with her.
“You’re telling me!” the girl barked, shaking her head.
Through those first six months in Jackson, life slowly started to make sense again for you. For the first time since the outbreak happened all of those years ago, you found yourself with a proper home, and a community of people around you who you had come to know and respect.
But even with newfound light in your life, the darkness inside of you wasn’t going away quickly. Even a friendly place like Jackson couldn’t stop the nightmares that plagued you. After spending over a decade traversing the United States with Cal, seeing death and decay and infection firsthand, you had to train yourself to focus on the good.
When you passed by a group of kids on the street, you urged yourself not to see the faces of Cal’s late brothers, whom you grew up with. Had to fight the memories of the settlement not unlike Jackson that you spent years in, only to watch it burn to the ground. Not everything ends badly, you would whisper to yourself. People can be trusted.
As insistent as you were with opening yourself up to the light, the nightmares still came fast and hard. It was the same one, most nights. The same memory. In time, Cal had begun to sleep through you crying out for help in your sleep, after learning years ago that being woken up by him sometimes scared you just as much as the dream itself. Sometimes, solitude after an awful night was the only remedy.
You woke slick with sweat, your shirt sticking uncomfortably to your skin. Heart racing, you stumbled out of bed and gulped down some water in the kitchen. Through the light fog outside, a warm orange glow lit the street, as the sun rose slowly over the town. Thank god, you thought. Early, but not too early to rise without worrying Cal. You dressed slowly, limbs heavy with fatigue, and walked numbly toward the stables. Winter had crept into Jackson like a thief, and the morning’s icy cold breath licked at your hands and face, stealing all the warmth you had to offer.
A few of the horses startled awake when you arrived, and you soothed them quietly, your voice hoarse from crying only an hour prior.
“It’s just me,” you murmured, kissing Dot’s speckled nose.
A morning ride seemed a good way to wake up all of your senses, so you set to saddling up. But only a short while after your arrival at the stables, a sound outside made you start. A flash of the nightmare shot through your brain, and your heart stuttered. Footsteps, padding softly through the grass outside, could clearly be heard. Dot’s ears pricked up, and her large head swung toward the stable doors to watch. Although you had been sure you heard someone approaching, when he stepped into view, you still let out a yell of surprise. 
“Woah,” Joel held his hands out in alarm, eyes wide. “I didn’t expect anyone to be here.” His arms lowered as he recognised you, warily noting your defensive stance, positioned half behind Dot with tensed fists.
You didn’t say anything immediately, breathing heavily out of your mouth, and still trying to calm your racing heart. You watched each other from across the space, and he took a few slow steps inside. “I’m sorry I scared you,” he apologised genuinely, in a tone gentler than you’d ever heard him use.
You ignored his apology. “What’re you doing out here so early? The sun’s hardly up.”
An eyeroll. “I could ask you the same question.”
You contemplated lying, but exhaustion wore on you heavily, and you found yourself unable to think of a fib worthy of his time. “Bad dreams,” you settled on, not caring how childish it made you sound.
He nodded slowly, looking unsurprised by your admission. After a measured pause, he offered, “I get those too, sometimes.”
Your heart, which had only just slowed down, found itself beating out of time again, although you weren’t sure why. This was the longest conversation you and Joel had ever had, and by far the most private one – if you didn’t count the horses listening in. When you didn’t answer him quickly, his hand raised to scratch awkwardly against his beard. Not for the first time, you were hit with an unwelcome thought about how handsome he was.
“You look cold,” he changed the subject quickly, and with a down turned mouth. He was wearing a thick brown jacket, which made the thin jumper you were wearing look like a sheet of paper in comparison.
“Cal’s been borrowing my good jacket these days, since it’s gotten cold.”
Joel watched you speak, and it seemed like he didn’t how to respond. His hands settled on his hips, and he mumbled something under his breath that you missed. When you prompted him to repeat it, he just said, “You spend a lot of time with Dot.” You were happy to finally shift the topic of conversation away from yourself, and agreed. 
“Yeah well, Percy over there isn’t too fond of me,” you gestured behind you to a tall grey horse, who you had discovered months earlier would huff loudly and rear his head up whenever you stepped near him. In that respect, Percy reminded you somewhat of Joel when the two of you first met.
“Percy’s old, he’ll warm up to you with time,” he advised.
“I thought the saying goes that you can’t teach an old dog new tricks?”
A small huff of air escaped his mouth, and if you weren’t so sleepy, you would’ve sworn it was the start of a laugh. Quietly, he said, “I’d like to think that’s not true.”
It was the next morning, after you’d awoken from another nightmare, and stepped outside to head to the stables again, that you saw it. A gift, or maybe a token of understanding.
A large black jacket, folded neatly on your doormat.
Winter kicked in like a punch in the gut, but you decided you liked the festivities that the cold weather inspired in Jackson. Suddenly every morning your windows had a delicate layer of frost over them, hiding the view of the street, making every day a new surprise, waiting for you to discover when you finally stepped outside. It didn’t rain often, but you could sense how the clouds seemed to sag, and knew that snow wouldn’t be far around the corner. You wore Joel’s jacket most days, and appreciated how the cold made your face tinge red, so that when he spotted you in it, he wouldn’t notice you were blushing.
To celebrate the changing of the season, Maria had organised a bonfire night to bring the town together. She enticed you to come along with promises of mulled wine and live music, but the truth was that you had already promised Cal you’d go along.
“She is going to be theeeere,” Cal had sung dreamily from the kitchen, a week before. You had been lounging on the chair in your living space, drowsy from an impromptu afternoon nap, and it took you a moment to understand who he was talking about.
“Luisa?”
“Luisa,” he confirmed wistfully, sipping a cup of tea as he stepped into the room. “She invited us, and you have to come along, you know. I can’t go without my wingman.”
“If she invited you, you probably don’t need a wingman,” you laughed, but agreed to go nonetheless. It was sweet watching Cal talk about Luisa over the past few weeks, and watching his crush develop more every day that they spent time together. Not for a long time had either of you been romantically involved with someone, and it made your heart sing for him. Of course, you would go. For Cal, you’d probably go anywhere. 
Jackson was a hub of excitement when the day finally rolled around. During your shift at the stables, the women you worked with chatted keenly about wanting to dance to live music, and it caused a bubble of excitement to form in your own chest. It had been so long since you’d seen a musical instrument, let alone seen someone play one with any skill. On your walk home, people were toting around decorations, headed towards a big open dirt field, where you knew a set up effort had already begun. You passed Joel’s place halfway through town and smiled upon spotting him on his porch, rugged up and chatting away with Tommy and Ellie.
Since that morning in the barn, you and Joel had settled into a sort of comfortable ease with one another. There was less rigidity when you spoke; less apprehension when it came to sharing things about yourselves, and your days. Being around him became a source of calm, rather than tension. You never sought him out for conversation, but you found yourself quietly elated when he appeared on one of your aimless walks, or passed by the stables unexpectedly and chatted to you while you worked.
The more you came to learn about him in those quiet moments, the more you appreciated him. You felt that you had formed a kind of mutual understanding between you; that you wanted the same things. A shared desire to enjoy this quiet life that neither of you felt you deserved, but were both lucky enough to have fall into your laps.  It was true that you hadn’t made friends there the way Cal had – people gravitated towards his energy naturally. But with Joel, you felt understood.
“Well don’t you lot look cosy,” you called from the street, and were met with a round of friendly waves. “What’s on the menu?” you pointed at the mugs they all gripped, eyeing the hot steam that rose out of them.
“Just a second.” Joel disappeared inside for a few minutes, before returning with a cup of coffee for you. You leaned against the banister and sipped at the hot liquid greedily, nodding in appreciation.
“How are you doing?” Tommy asked you genuinely. You liked the sweet crow’s feet that appeared next to his eyes when he smiled. You chatted absently about work and patrols, and how one of the families in town were expecting a new baby in a few months, before finally the topic of the bonfire came up.
“Oh, you’re coming right?” Ellie pondered eagerly, sitting up in her chair.
“Only if you’ll be there, kid.” Her face lit up at this, grinning smugly at Joel and Tommy. You could feel Joel’s eyes on you, but held your gaze steadfast on Ellie. It felt like your skin burned a little when he was looking at you – you could always sense his stare.
“And Cal too?” Ellie asked. She always asked you about Cal, and you’d just come to understand that she liked to be in the loop about most things. She held that teenage curiosity to know about everyone, and all their comings and goings.
“Yes,” you smirked conspiratorially. “He mentioned wanting to see Luisa.” The younger girl raised her eyebrows suggestively, garnering a chuckle from even Tommy.
“Can you believe,” Ellie suddenly chuckled out, sticking out a hand and placing it on Joel’s shoulder. “That Joel thought you and Cal were married or something?”
As you and Tommy laughed, you thought you noticed Joel gently kick his boot against Ellie’s shin, as if to say, shut the hell up kid. He didn’t quite meet your eye when you looked at him, and appeared somewhat embarrassed as he turned to glare at Ellie.
“Well, he wouldn’t be the first to think that,” you conceded. “With the amount of years we’ve known each other, we might as well be married at this point.”
Joel looked at you properly then, his curiosity getting the better of him. Tommy asked the question that seemed to be on his lips.
“Remind me how many years you’ve been together? I can’t remember what you told me all those months ago.”
“We’ve known each other for something like two or three decades.”
Ellie let out a low whistle, eyes wide just thinking about that many years. She was so young, and you felt a quick pang in your heart to remember it.
You drained the last of your coffee, and placed the mug softly into Joel’s outstretched hand before stepping off the porch. “Speaking of the old ball and chain, I’d better get home to make sure he hasn’t burned the place down in my absence.”
“See you tonight,” Joel shared a half smile, and you nodded, before turning and heading in the direction of home. As you walked, you listened to their conversation start back up again.  “Oh kiddo, I almost forgot. Tommy told me this joke yesterday that reminded me of you. You’re gonna love this…” And then you were too far gone to hear the rest.
After giving Cal advice on which shirt to wear, the pair of you made your way toward the field where the party was being held. He was adamant you had to arrive casually late, so that he didn’t seem too eager. You went along with his ideas amiably, happy to please him. And although you didn’t tell Cal, you could admit to yourself that you weren’t going just for his benefit anymore – there were other people looking forward to seeing you. You couldn’t help but wonder if you would get to spend any time talking to Joel, and your heart squeezed in a way you chose to ignore.
The sun had set hours ago, and the party was in full swing when you arrived at the gathering. Flames blazed high into the air from two huge bonfires, crackling loudly and lighting the wide-open space with a warm orange glow. Small twinkling lights had been strung up through the surrounding trees, providing more light. A small group of musicians stood off to the side, playing soft folk music that flowed beautifully into your ears.
Busy marvelling at your beautiful surroundings, you were shocked back to reality by Cal thrusting a warm mug into your hands.
“Liquid courage,” he winked, taking a swig. You stared at the deep red steaming liquid in your own cup, and sipped it tentatively. Soft notes of cinnamon and star anise hit your tongue, mixing with the tart red wine, and you hummed happily. “Oh, there she is!”
Cal bid you a quick farewell and wandered across the field to sit beside Luisa on a thick log. You watched as the pair embraced, but averted your eyes quickly when Luisa leaned in and pressed a kiss against Cal’s cheek. He would tell you these things in his own time, and deserved his privacy. Allowing your eyes to flicker over the rest of the crowd. It seemed everyone in Jackson was there. Families talking and laughing, couples and friends swaying together near the band. A feeling of intense loneliness hit you in a sudden wave, but as quick as it came it was gone, as you spotted Joel sitting alone, staring into the fire.
Before you could convince yourself not to, you found your legs meandering in his direction, as if out of your own control. You half hoped someone would stop you for a conversation along the way, but everyone was distracted, and you seemed to blend into the crowd without drawing much attention. Ellie could be seen watching the band play with some other people around her age and hadn’t noticed your arrival. In less than a minute, your black boots were stopping a metre behind where Joel sat.
He wasn’t aware of your presence yet, leaving you with a moment to take him in. Although you couldn’t see his face yet, you admired his broad strong back, and thought absently that either all his clothes were too tight, or he must’ve been built like a brick house underneath them.
Unsure of yourself, and feeling awkward in your own skin, you hesitated for a moment too long. A quiet crack sounded as you adjusted your footing, and crunched onto a wayward twig, making Joel’s head tick ever so slightly to the side.
“Hey there,” you rushed, not wanting to spook him, and he turned fully to see you. He looked handsome, wearing his normal brown jacket, and holding his own mug of ruby red liquid courage. The corner of his mouth quirked up and those earthy brown eyes took her in quickly, flicking from her head to her feet, and back up again in an instant.
“You gonna sit down or just stand there all night?” You were torn abruptly from your reverie when he spoke, and you hoped that the darkness hid your blush. Stepping over the log he was on, you sat down beside him heavily, holding out your free hand to feel the warmth of the bonfire. You were close. Not enough to touch, but enough that the sleeves of you jackets brushed ever so slightly when one of you moved your arm.
“You havin’ a good time?” you enquired quietly, realising that from this vantage point, you could actually see Cal and Luisa, on the other side of the fire.
“Better now, I’ll admit.” You turned her head to look at him, surprised by his forthrightness, and he held your gaze evenly, still doing that half smile that put you at ease. “The people in this town are so friendly, but you run out of things to talk about after knowing them all for a year and a half.”
“Well lucky for us,” you suggested. “I’ve only been here 7 months. We haven’t exhausted all avenues of conversation yet, have we Joel?”
From behind the rim of his mug he chuckled quietly, his eyes shining with the fire’s reflection. “I’d say we haven’t, no.” Considering his height and broad stature, he always held himself in a naturally authoritative manor. But sitting there beside him, you enjoyed seeing him look so relaxed, lounging comfortably, with a few drinks in his system. It was a version of him that you hadn’t met before, and you liked it.
“How is he?” Joel asked, nodding in Cal’s direction. You looked over to see him and Luisa chatting together, their foreheads knocking together as they leaned into one another. You smiled.
“He’s good. Fitting in like no one’s business,” you snorted, shaking your head in a sort of wonderment. “Doesn’t surprise me though. People always liked Cal, everywhere we went.”
“And they didn’t like you?” His tone was disbelieving. A prickling heat tickled across your face, and you knew he was staring.
“Not that they didn’t like me, I’m just…” you trailed off, trying to choose your words carefully. “More of an acquired taste, I suppose.”
“An acquired taste.” He repeated gruffly, and made a scoffing noise from deep in his throat.
“Ah, you know what I mean.”
“I don’t think I do.”
“Well, even then, I suppose the saying goes... about acquired tastes getting better with age… or something like that.” You looked at him out of the corner of your eye and relished in seeing his large frame shaking with silent laughter.
“We can agree to disagree on this one, but I’m happy to let you chop together sayings to fit your idea of not being likable.”
You stared at him a little longer, enjoying the tight-lipped smile on his face. Gaze locked onto his mouth, your brain suddenly filled with ideas about his lips, and what they would feel like. He was so rough, so brawny, but you liked to imagine they’d be soft, like he was now that you had gotten to know him more. His tongue darted out to wet his lower lip and your eyes drifted up, to find he’d caught you staring. Joel exhaled heavily and reached up to scratch at the little scar on the bridge of his nose. You wondered how he’d gotten it.
You’d noticed plenty of scars along his arms, during the warmer months in Jackson. It seemed he had a long history of violence that you knew nothing about, but you certainly wasn’t surprised by it. Even as you grew closer to him, and to Ellie, nothing was ever revealed about how they came together, or what led them to Jackson. It almost made you want to keep your own history private, until he shared more with you. But then he smiled at you, and your heart did that skipping a beat thing it was always doing these days around him, and your defences would lower again.
Across the fire, your attention was caught by the sound of Luisa laughing loudly at something Cal whispered to her. You and Joel watched them silently for a moment, both entranced by the giggling couple across the field.
Joel raked a hand through his hair and cleared his throat quietly. “You and Cal…”
“Me and Cal what?” you prompted.
“You two, did anything ever…” he seemed to hesitate; his eyes boring into the dirt in front of you while he struggled to articulate himself. It was bizarre to see such a strong man seem so unsure. “You never… anything more than friendship?”
A beat of silence. you wondered how much to tell him. Certain memories of you and Cal ran through your mind and you shivered a little. It had been a long few years since you’d thought about that time in your lives.
“It’s complicated,” you spoke slowly, not wanting to lie to Joel. “We were alone for so long. Sometimes there would be other people with us while we travelled around, or when we lived in other settlements, but…”
“But they were temporary?”
“Temporary,” you nodded. The band were playing an upbeat song, and you were momentarily distracted by the contrast between the group of people lively dancing a few metres away, and you and Joel sitting there talking in hushed tones.  
“They would get themselves killed, or infected, or…” you paused, feeling your eyebrow twitch at the thought of some of you and Cal’s past acquaintances. Of one in particular, whom you was still plagued with visions of while asleep.
Embers from the fire were floating through the foggy air, and you inhaled a deep breathe, watching as they disappeared into the night sky. Little pieces of crackling sparks, shooting up and evaporating. The smoke from the fire burned your eyes and throat. Don’t think about it.
“Or…” he pressed. He might as well have poked you with a stick to bring your attention back to the conversation; his curiosity rolling off him in waves. Joel with a few drinks in him proved far nosier than sober Joel. 
Your gaze stayed on the sky. “Or prove themselves untrustworthy.”
Joel was smart enough to read between the lines, and not push any further on the matter. You observed fondly that when you were speaking to him, Joel angled his head ever so slightly to have his left ear closer to you. Upon noticing, you remembered it was true that whenever he’d approached you in the past few weeks, he’d position himself on your right side. You figured the hearing on his right side was a little shoddy. 
For a few moments you just sat and watched the people around you. Some of the families started to leave, herding little ones away from the band, and in the direction of town.
“So?” Joel prompted, with a deep wrinkle in his forehead that let you know he wasn’t happy about having to ask again.
“You really want to know?”
You couldn’t read the expression on his face. He fiddled with the mug in his hands and nodded once.  You didn’t like the way he’d gone from relaxed and boozy, back to his regular grouchy countenance.
Your tongue clicked against the roof of your mouth in acquiescence.
“We’d been friends for twenty years before it, and we’ve been friends for a decade after it. It happened twice, or… or maybe three times. It gets a bit hazy in my memory. We figured we knew each other so well, and after so many years alone, it had started to seem like there would never be anyone else to…” you trailed off, uncertain of how much to reveal. Joel waited.
“As much as we wished it was more it just wasn’t. It never could be.” It was impossible not to picture those times, as you talked about them. Your stomach rolled remembering the way you and Cal had stood awkwardly together, skimming stones over a lake you’d stumbled across, agreeing to never do it again. It was one of the worst moments of your friendship; both fearing you were about to break your only friend’s heart. “We love each other but… there’s a barrier there, in our heads. All the memories of us as kids, of playing soccer on the weekend with him and his brothers, of watching each other grow up and become the people we were going to be…” You rubbed the itchy corner of your eye with grimy fingers, taking a breath. Joel’s eyes flicked over to see Cal and Luisa standing up, and the pair began walking away from the bonfire hand in hand.
“When we fucked, the first time, it was just a tension release, I suppose.”
Joel flinched beside you, his shoulders tenser than they had been a moment before. A twinge of regret tickled in your chest, for using such matter-of-fact language. You weren’t trying to push him away, but it felt sneaky if you were to lie about your past with Cal. There was no denying what had happened; not if you wanted Joel to know you, truly. It was a part of your story, and neither of you could afford to be ashamed of it. 
“And after that, we tried again but it just… didn’t work. We couldn’t be together that way, as much as we longed for the connection. He may as well be my brother. Thankfully, the sibling sentiment was mutual.”
You turned to watch Joel’s face. His stoic expression was hard to read, but the wrinkles around his mouth were made prominent by how he clenched his jaw, and you could sense an undercurrent of thoughts and emotions clearly rolling under his skin. Yet he stayed silent, brooding. Jealous? You shook the invasive thought off. No.
“I don’t say it lightly, that I would die for Cal,” you said quietly, your voice as firm and wary as the day you arrived in Jackson, eyes glancing away for a moment to watch Cal’s back as he disappeared out of the field. “Him being here, happy and safe… it’s all I’ve ever wanted for him.”
Silence swelled around you, heavy with the weight of all that you had revealed. Goosebumps rippled over your skin as the band started to play a song you recognised. One from before outbreak day, that your mother used to sing to you on the settlement, in those early years after everything changed. If Joel noticed your demeanour shift, you didn’t care, letting your eyes fall closed as you gently sang along to the opening of the old song.
Oh, Kentucky, I miss you
Your night sky, black and tired
But wild like a live wire
The horse is never leaving the pond on its own
You got to open the gate and let it loose to run
Faster than the clouds on a windblown dawn Faster than you left me alone to long
You trailed off slowly and reached up to wipe a stray tear from your cheek. An image of your mother’s face flashed through your memory, but you shoved it down, unsure if it was even an accurate idea of what she had looked like. After a decade and a half without her, you couldn’t be sure your memories were trustworthy.  
“And what do you want now?” Joel finally spoke, his voice hoarse. “Now that he’s happy, and safe. What do you want?”
“For myself?” you whispered, voice thick with emotion. “I haven’t let myself want anything in a long time now. There’s no use; nothing good comes from it.”
Your cheeks were warm and red, and little bits of ash were dotted through your hair. Joel’s mug had been abandoned to the ground, and his fingers fiddled together in his lap, the way they always did when he was trying his best to actively listen. He was present, and this way his way of showing it. No messing around, no object or weapon in his hands to put a barrier between himself and another person. Just his hands, scratching and tracing each other, to calm himself. It made your heart beat out of time for a second, whenever you noticed him doing it. Until one of his hands lifted and held in the air for a second, and then he reached over to place it gently on your knee. Your heart stuttered as he gave it a gentle squeeze, and left it to rest there.
“I felt the same way for a long time. Thought there was no use in hoping, or wanting anything good, or feeling like I deserved to be happy.”
“And now?” you asked, staring down at his large hand on you. You wished you had the confidence to reach down and take it in your own. “Do you still feel like that?”
His thumb made one slow stroking movement along your knee, making the skin underneath your jeans tingle sharply.
“Jackson changed things. Ellie… Ellie changed things. And…” He paused, and his forehead finally relaxed. You pursed your chapped lips and didn’t look away from him, urging him to continue. “Jackson continues to change things.” Is all he said.
And it’s all he needed to. You understood. 
Take me to the track, I want to lose all my cash
This beating in my chest is all I need to stash
And why shouldn’t I?
Cause when I’m alone
We’re still looking at the same moon
Under the night
Are we two people never getting together?
I will follow your roads
As wide as the air, as wild as a storm.
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part two
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bg3ficreviews · 2 days
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Thunder reforged: Rolan x Dammon - #BG3 FanFic Review
Review by Aivu (@aivuthedragon)
Happy timezone, dear readers! Today I'm happy to bring you this incredible series of works by velocitross on AO3. What's hotter than a tiefling wizard with a knack for a well-timed thunderwave? Said tiefling wizard having a rendezvous with his tiefling blacksmith paramour, of course.
A note from the BG3FicReviews team: The entire BG3 community was been rocked by the recent controversy surrounding Dammon's VA, including the various fanwork creators who've fallen in love with Dammon, included him in their work, and are part of the LGBTQAI+ community themselves. We want to express our support and love to Dammon fans, Dammon fan work creators, the LGBTQAI+ community generally and all those adversely affected by what's happened. As such, we have decided to feature such works in our reviews this week. Make your love louder than the hate. 💜
As always, mind the tags! Our review is continued below the fold due to the NSFW nature of the content in these works.
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This incredible artwork by @arczism was inspired by velocitross's Rolan x Dammon fic Working Steel, which is included in today's review.
Working Steel, the first of velocitross’ three works that include this rare pair, is a masterwork in character portrayal. The author adeptly captures the at-a-glance somewhat incompatible personalities of the two tiefling refugees who fled Elturel together and now reside in Baldur’s Gate. In this work, the relationship between Rolan, the ever-surly wizard and the newly ‘appointed’ master of Ramazith Tower, and Dammon, the gentle yet infernally talented blacksmith of the Forge of the Nine, has grown far beyond mere friendship.
Rolan, frustrated by his attempts to catalogue the mindless chaos remaining after the untimely death of the tower’s former owner, approaches Dammon to ask for his help and visits him at his forge. But what could a blacksmith possibly offer a wizard? Well, a good fuck, for one thing. Rolan is pent-up, impatient, and needs a good lay. And, it turns out, so does Dammon. The smut that ensues is not only blazingly hot but also beautifully captures the tender affection between the two tieflings through not only their words, but small, unique gestures of love and care. (Mind the tails. I mean, tags. No, tails.)
In Up in the Tower, it’s Dammon’s turn to visit the wizard’s domain. But the blacksmith receives a less-than-warm welcome, as the ever-grumpy Rolan becomes highly annoyed at having his work interrupted. But considering Rolan is dressed in little more than his underwear and an open robe, I’m more than willing to forgive him for his surliness. Dammon, however, being the sweet, gentle soul that he is, insists on taking care of Rolan beyond his carnal needs alone. In this work, the relationship between the pair deepens, and the author has wonderfully captured the intimacy of the pair. Lastly, we have Within the Storm. This work takes us back to the Shadow-Cursed Lands as the tiefling refugees attempt to cross its desolate lands on their way to Baldur’s Gate. When the Absolute’s forces ambush the group, Rolan expertly wields his magic to stave them off. But when something happens to Zevlor, the battle takes a turn for the worse. In the chaos, Rolan’s siblings, Cal and Lia, are kidnapped and several of his friends and co-travellers are brutally murdered.
Once at Last Light Inn, Rolan is a fucking mess, devastated by his siblings’ capture. Lost in the depths of his despair and way too much drink, the tiefling wizard finds comfort in the arms of a fellow refugee he’d known since childhood - Dammon. And thus the gentlest embers of affection between the pair begin to spark to life. This lovely one-shot serves as a prelude to the author’s much-anticipated long fic about the pair, their growing affection for one another and what looks to be a truly beautiful love story. If you would like to follow velocitross’ incredible work about the love between a tiefling wizard and blacksmith, please be sure to subscribe to the author on AO3 and follow their work and the pending long fic. We have included a snippet of Working Steel below for your enjoyment. As always, please support the writers of our incredible fandom by leaving kudos and comments on their work. 🫶
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Working Steel
By velocitross on AO3
The ring of his hammer fills Dammon’s ears and his attention as he works. A soft frown of focus curves his lips. It’s a simple enough repair—restoring a blade for the halfling woman standing outside the forge watching him work. Still, there’s a satisfaction to it: the rhythm of his strikes, the heat of the day in Baldur’s Gate warming him beneath his layers of apron and clothing. The ordinary busy noise of the city goes on just outside his focus, a subtle, stabilizing comfort even months after the Netherbrain’s defeat.
When he glances up from his work, a distinct figure catches his eye amongst the passersby. Rolan, with his proud bearing and his regal blue and red robes, coming toward the smithy with a tense, bothered scowl and his tail lashing behind him. A smile touches Dammon’s lips. He knows that look.
“I’ll be with you in a moment,” he says as Rolan comes to a stop an awkward few feet from the halfling waiting on her sword.
“Well, don’t take too long,” Rolan snaps, and then reddens further when Dammon raises an eyebrow at him. “Sorry. I’ll just—I’ll wait.”
Dammon lifts the blade off his anvil to study it. He smiles at the halfling as he passes her the sword.
“Give that a try. Come back if you need anything else.”
She moves off to the side to examine the blade, allowing Rolan to step up to the forge. He stands, arms crossed, his face flushed as he fixes Dammon with his bright yellow stare.
“Anything I can help you with, Rolan?” the blacksmith prompts.
Rolan sighs. He places his hands carefully on the edge of the anvil, glances again toward the halfling woman, and leans in toward Dammon.
“I need . . . Steel.”
Dammon breathes a good-natured chuckle.
“Come on,” he says, nodding over his shoulder toward the building. “I could use a break, anyway.”
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starclast · 4 months
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Aura and Cal 💙⭐
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Reesha and June 🌸💚
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megs-98 · 2 months
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It's Always Been You
Finally posting the solstice/secret santa fic that i wrote for the lovely @smaranshakthi
big thank you to @justporo for helping me edit as this is the first fic that i've wrote
summary: tav left baldur's gate after the final battle but years later something... or someone, drew her back and she had to find out why
tags: dammon x f!reader (Tav), fluff, light makeout scene at the end, mostly just dammon being the sweetest boy
word count: 3.4k
It had been five years since the final battle in Baldur’s Gate when you and your companions had conquered the Absolute and the Dead Three’s Chosen. Five years since you had left the Gate in search of rediscovering yourself once you had been freed of the tadpole. It wasn’t all lonely though, Withers had summoned everyone back to your original campsite six months after the cult was defeated, which had given you a chance to reconnect with your friends. You found more companions and had seen spectacular new places with your most recent adventures. However, you felt that something was absent from your life the farther you got from the city. There was something absent in your heart, something that you weren’t able to find during your travels. That’s how you found yourself back in the city, staying in the Elfsong Tavern, just in time for the snowy season. 
You had felt a natural, almost instinctive, pull back to Baldur’s Gate, though you were unsure why. With resolve, you start visiting your old acquaintances. Rolan at Ramzaithan’s Tower as well as Cal and Lia, Alfria. Oskar Fevras, who attempted very earnestly, to get you to commission a painting from him, and so many others. While you were happy to see everyone, there was still something itching at your brain, an itch that you couldn’t quite scratch. That’s how you found yourself having a glass of ale at the bar top of Elfsong. You were pondering what, or who, could have subconsciously pulled you back to your home city, when you accidentally overheard a conversation from two men sitting farther down the counter from you. 
“Oi! Let me see that new blade of yours!”
“Ah, yeah, that tiefling did a damn fine job. Dammon, one of the best blacksmith’s I’ve ever worked with.” The man said as he pulled out a beautifully crafted silver dagger with a black leather hilt.
Your ears perked at the mention of Dammon. You silently cursed to yourself as you had forgotten to visit him earlier in the day due to the bustle you’d been swept up in. He had been someone you got on with so well during your quest to remove the tadpole, hells he had even helped Karlach with her infernal engine, granting her a little more time top side. A smile came to your lips as you reminisced meeting the tiefling for the first time. 
It was only a few days into your adventure of finding a cure for the Mind Flayer tadpole. You had found other survivors from the Nautolid crash on the beach, quickly realizing that you had all been infected. You and your new companions spent a couple days searching the beach and wreckage for supplies when you decided to venture farther out, starting to head towards Baldur’s Gate. You had heard from a couple of tieflings that there was a nearby druid grove not too far north, where there was a healer. As your group headed north, you heard shouting and the beat of war drums from a pack of goblins. You and your group realized that the druid grove was under attack and had quickly sprang to action, helping dispatch the goblins, earning you thanks from the tiefling leader, Zevlor. He explained that they had been attacked by creature after creature after fleeing from Elturel after its descent to Avernus. 
The tiefling had said that they were seeking refuge in the grove but with Archdruid Halsin missing after not returning with the scouts you fought the goblins with previously, Kagha was now commanding the grove, and she was ready to eject the tieflings. You agreed to find information about Kagha if you and your companions were able to see a healer and traders, with which Zevlor agreed. He pointed you towards the druid’s chambers to find a healer and towards The Hollow to find another tiefling named Dammon to trade with. You gave him your thanks as you and your new friends followed the dirt path further into the grove. You could hear the sounds of a hammer hitting metal get louder as you saw a man working at a makeshift forge. He was a man of medium build, blond hair, half shaved, tied back into a bun. Black horns, ridged skin you could barely see on his forearms from where he had his sleeves rolled up. Broad, muscular shoulders and the distinctive tiefling tail, which was twitching with frustration as the man cursed his less than stellar smithing conditions. 
You waved to catch his attention as you approached. “Hi, I’m Tav. Zevlor said you had items to trade?”
“Ah, hello! I’m Dammon, we can’t thank you enough for helping take care of those nasty little creatures out there. Whatever repairs you need I can do and you can take a look at my wares. Discount included.” He smiled as he shook your hand. He beamed with pride when he talked about the pieces he had crafted. You couldn’t help but be a bit smitten by the man. The passion for his work showed in his brilliant blue eyes as he explained the different materials he had worked with, from Infernal iron in Avernus all the way to basic tin from when he had first started smithing. His tail started to wag slightly the more excited he got, you couldn’t help but think how cute it was. You had wanted to spend more of your time in the Grove talking with him, but you and your companions had found yourselves quested with finding Halsin and deposing Kagha by more people with limited time. 
The night of the tiefling party quickly came to your mind as you were reminiscing. How Dammon hadn’t made an appearance, much to your dismay as you hadn’t thought you would see him again. Oh, how wrong you had been… Once your friends and you had made it into the Shadow Cursed Lands, the Harpers scouting the area quickly ushered your group to the Last Light Inn, a sanctuary within the afflicted area. You quickly realized that the tieflings, as many of them that had made it, were recuperating at the inn as well. After speaking with Jaheira, your group grabbed a drink from the boys working the bar and started making the rounds checking in with the tieflings. Rolan and Alfria filling you in on what had happened during their trek over, with you promising to do your best to bring everyone back, at the behest of Astarion, who reminded you that your little troupe already had enough on their plates. 
As you made your way through the inn’s courtyard you heard the familiar beat of metal on metal as you walked closer to the barn. You quickened your step, the pace of your heartbeat also picking up, matching the beat coming from across the way. You had left the others behind, to find who was hammering away, elated to see that Dammon was there. He was safe.
 He had his back to the entryway, working on some armor. You could see the muscles in his back and arms tensing as he worked the metal. The veins in his hands and forearms visible from where you stood. Callused hands firmly, but delicately, reshaping the metal back to robust condition. Dammon turned around once he noticed you standing there, the first thing you noticed was the sweat running down his brow, loose hair falling around his face, having come undone from his bun. The way he looked up at you half lidded eyes as he pushed the hair back out of his face as he walked over almost causing you to come undone. A smile graced his mouth as he saw you, tail lifted and wagging, showing his excitement at seeing you again. 
“Dammon! I can’t believe you’re here, I was worried I wouldn’t get the chance to see you again..” You caught yourself from giving him a hug, not wanting to overstep his boundaries, instead placing your hands on his arms.
He let out a low chuckle, “Oh, Tav, please, the Hells couldn’t keep me. You didn’t think I’d let some cult get me, did you?” He winked as he patted your hands. You felt his tail trying to curl around your ankle, a redness coming to both of your faces as the rest of your group caught up to you, greeting the tiefling. The two of you were able to continue your conversation a little longer at the inn with Dammon joining you at the bar. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you saw your group of friends finally relaxing, even if just for a short moment. Having a drink, laughing with each other as they ate their dinner. You felt Dammon’s shoulder against yours as he sat down, causing you to look over at him. You were met with him already looking at you, a smile on his face. Neither of you moved, both your eyes jumping from irises to lips, unsure of what to do. Your impassioned thoughts of the man were quickly pulled from you as you heard Karlach booming with laughter, causing you to turn to see what had the barbarian so happy. You didn’t know what was going on but you were happy with where you were, putting your hand on Dammon’s, leaning into his shoulder more, earning you a content sigh from the tiefling. It didn’t matter to you that it was a short lived reunion, you were just glad he was there and safe.
As if you had deja vu, your second reunion with Dammon, in Baldur’s Gate, had been similar. You were unsure if he had made it to the city, worried you might not see him again, until you heard the familiar sounds of a forge as you walked around the city with your friends. Cautiously, you and your group approached the workshop and heard a man cursing to himself as he grabbed a new tool. You saw a familiar set of broad shoulders working over a sword and realized that Dammon had made it, had even found himself a forge to get back to work. 
You yelled his name, causing him to turn around, smiling as soon as he saw you. 
“Ah, there she is! The hero of the Grove, now the hero of the Shadowlands. It’s good to see you again.” Dammon happily said to you as you found him at his new forge, Forge of the Nine. 
“Hey, wow! Look at this setup. It looks great, Dammon. It’s incredible to see you here, and  safe.” You gave him a tight hug, not wanting to let go. “Could I trouble you for some repairs?” You asked as you held up your beat up sword after he had given everyone in the group a small hug.
Dammon smiled as he grabbed all the different weapons you and your companions needed fixed. “Let’s take a look at that armor too.” 
He motioned to you to lift your arms as he inspected the breastplate you had on, his hand cupped over the small of your back as he looked over the rest of your armor. There was a hitch in your breath when you felt Dammon’s warm hand on your back. You cleared your throat in an attempt to hide it but the tiefling looked at you with knowing eyes. Making eye contact with you, an obvious shudder going through him at the closeness between the two of you. 
“Uh.. yeah, I can make some quick repairs. I’ll have this done within a couple days for you guys.” 
You remembered that day well, between the frustration of Dammon not letting you pay full price for his services and the way he delicately touched your back, the hug that felt like neither of you wanted it to end. Something about that made you yearn for more. More than the flirtatious looks and easy conversation. You wanted something special with Dammon, but you never got the chance to tell him after defeating the Netherbrain. With all of the festivities and overwhelming excitement, you had to leave the city. You quietly told all of your companions, and Withers, goodbye and that you planned on traveling from city to city to rediscover yourself, but eventually you found yourself led back to Baldur’s Gate. In the city you weren’t ever sure you were going to be in again, five years later hoping to see the man who had always been for you. 
 Dammon’s forge wasn’t far from the tavern, you knew you could stop by first thing in the morning to see him but you knew that wasn’t an option. You quickly finished your ale, grabbed your coat off the barstool next to you and ventured into the cold, dark night.
The tiefling sighed as he hung his smithing apron on the hook on his back door, a tired hand rubbing over his neck. Dammon knew that he stayed out working too long, the sun was long gone and the first snow of the year was coming down, affecting the temperature consistency of his forge. He had orders that needed to be be done though, and he would be damned if he didn’t finish them on time. It seemed to Dammon that that’s how he spent all of his time the last few years. Hyperfocused on work so his thoughts didn’t wander back to the one that got away. He hadn’t known her all that long, just enough to know that she was quick to help anyone in need, strong, fearsome on the battlefield, and devastatingly beautiful. He missed seeing how the flames of his different forges danced in her irises, how her smile seemed to light up the room even more when he cooled Karlach down enough for her to touch others. Everything about her had bewitched him heart, mind, and soul. 
Dammon had even smithed a sword for her, matching her beauty and fierceness. A sword with a silver hilt and an intricate gold design going up the fuller, set with opals, meeting at a deadly sharp point at the tip of the blade. He kept it on display on the mantle of his fireplace, hoping that someday he might have the chance to give it to her. 
Dammon changed out of his work clothes and began to make himself some tea, lighting the fireplace as he waited for the kettle. His eyes were met with the blade he was never able to give, a small smile gracing over his features as he thought of the woman who unknowingly stole his heart. As he was lost in thought, his eyes drifted to the window, when he noticed that someone was standing outside his forge.. “Bloody hells.” he whispered to himself as he walked over to his front door.
“Hey! What are you doing?  It's too damned cold to be out right now. Come insi-” The rest of his words were caught in his chest as he realized the person outside, now right in front of him at his door, was the woman he had been longing for. You. You were here, staring at him with those doe eyes of yours. His brain couldn’t register what was happening until the whistle of the kettle grounded him. 
Realizing that you were actually here, right now, standing in front of him again. “Where are my manners, I’m sorry, Tav. Please come in, let’s get you out of this cold and out of that coat.” He said as he stepped aside and opened the door wider for you to come. You kicked the snow off your boots as you stepped through the threshold, hanging your coat on the rack next to the door. You smiled as you watched Dammon pouring the two of you a cup of tea, his hair hanging down around his face rather than in its signature bun, the red highlights glinting in the firelight. You noticed as his tail swiped back and forth, low to the ground, giving away his nervousness. 
You decided to break the silence. “Were you able to buy this place from the owner?” 
“Oh, yes. She said I was one of the better tenants she had had and gave me the opportunity to buy it from her a couple years ago.” Dammon responded as he watched you fidget with your tea cup. He couldn’t believe that you were here, after disappearing for five years. Five years of nothing but hoping to the Gods that you were okay. He continued to eye you, lips pursed. “Tav.. What are you doing here? I mean, I’m happy to see you and all but just reappearing after all these years, like nothing has changed? As if it was just another instance that we found each other before your tadpole was removed?” 
You could hear the pang of hurt in his voice as you met his eyes, feeling guilty. You ran a hand through your hair as you thought of an answer. “I… I don’t know. I know that leaving after everything the way that I did was shitty, and I will never forgive myself for not finding you first, Dammon. I just.. couldn’t handle the pressure of being one of the heroes of Baldur’s Gate. I didn’t even know who I was as an individual anymore, so I left. Hoping to rediscover myself.” Dammon gave you a hum of acknowledgement as he watched you find your words. 
  “And did you?” The tiefling asked. You gave him a confused look as his question registered. 
“Ah, well. That’s a tricky question, I suppose. I learned that I love Waterdeep during the summer, some of the best fish that I’ve ever had. I also learned that I still don’t care for goblins, I met too many of those bastards on the road.” You looked back to the tiefling, giving him a small smile. “I don’t know how many swords and blades I went through whilst traveling. I never met another blacksmith as good as you.” You said as you put your hand over his, hot and calloused, but still gentle as he placed his other hand over yours, smiling at you as his eyes drifted towards the blade he had made for you. Without another word, Dammon got up and grabbed the sword from its resting place, inspecting it. 
“You know, I made this for you, all those years ago.. Been holding on to it, hoping to give it to you someday.”
“Dammon, have you been carrying a torch for me this whole time?” You half jokingly ask as you set your tea down. You gasped as you turned and saw the beautiful blade up close, inspecting its features, gently touching the opals that lined the middle. You looked up and realized that Dammon was already looking at you, his eyes so full of love you wondered how you missed it before. 
“I always have, Tav. It’s always been you, I’ve never met a woman like you.” Dammon tucked a strand of hair behind your ear as you looked at him, slowly standing from your chair. 
You took the sword from him, placing it on the counter. You surprised the man as you wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him into a hug.
“Dammon, there is no other man in this life that I have wanted more than you.” Dammon hugged you tighter as he listened to your words, his tail wrapping around your leg as he tried to bring you closer to him. He finally pulled away from the hug to grab your chin, lifting your face up to his, kissing you passionately, like a man starved. You carded a hand through his hair as he cupped your cheeks, working his hands down to the sides of your neck, one hand then cupping the back on your head as he deepened the kiss. Causing you to moan into him, he took the opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth, eliciting a moan from the man. The kiss turned to your tongues dancing with each other and hungry moans as the two of you sought to find purchase on the kitchen counter. It was again Dammon that pulled away first, an audible whine leaving you as he pressed his forehead to yours. The both of you panting, having forgotten that air was required. His thumb swept across your cheek as he hummed in delight as you leaned into his touch even more. 
“I suppose we have a lot of catching up to do, don’t we?” 
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moonlit-imagines · 3 months
Text
Headcanons for being another displaced Padawan with Cal Kestis
Cal Kestis x jedi!reader
warnings: angst, STAR WARS JEDI SURVIVOR SPOILERS
a/n:
prompt:
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you and cal went way back
like, jedi padawan back
so after the purge, about five years later, you guys reunited by chance. thanks to cere junda, no less
and, god, seeing someone so familiar after trying to get by on your own, someone who knew the feeling of the trajectory of your life being thrown off before you were ready, that wasn’t easy to come by
“you’re here” -cal
“i’m here” -you
“we survived” -cal
“just barely” -you
cere was delighted that the two of you could have lifted each other’s spirits so much, which was very much needed in desperate times, as you two were just given a very important mission by a former jedi master in your order
you and cal kicked some serious ass together, helping one another relearn old lessons your masters had taught during your youth
“i think running across walls was the hardest thing i was ever taught” -you
“it took me forever to get that right! i could only get two steps in before i plummeted to the floor!” -cal
you shared a lot of stories and emotions during travels, in private
and not all of them were positive, but this was the first chance you’d had in five years to face these emotions, to air out your feelings
“do you miss the clones? i was so fond of our battalion, they were always so kind to me” -you
“i think…i think that was the worst part. the people who defended us in battle, gave me pep talks before training, always there, that same face at every turn suddenly behind the blaster that was meant to put me down” -cal
“i miss them” -you
cal and you had your missions together…and separately. you’d be on one planet and he on the other, trying to race the empire and inquisitors to the holocron
“it could happen all over again” -you
“it could be the key to saving the galaxy” -cal
“or we’d be creating a generational tragedy” -you
“so would the empire” -cal
“you’ve got me there” -you
cal gifting you ponchos from his travels (lol)
“any chance you like pink?” -cal
“well…” -you
braving zeffo alone while you knew cal was somewhere far more dangerous, you had a bad feeling about it
but your teachings from the order were always the same, no attachment. mission first, feelings second…no, last
but on cal’s adventure, he found merrin, a nightsister from dathomir
you hadn’t seen any nightsisters since ventress, which did happen to make you feel a bit off
“cal…you sure?” -you
“trust me, y/n. things have changed. merrin is just like us” -cal
“cal told me much about you. another survivor. a pleasure” -merrin
you and merrin grew quite close actually
she was truly spectacular, and swapping stories with her was sort of educational
“wait…the jedi responsible for the nightsister genocide? you said lightsabers, plural? how many?” -you
“four” -merrin
“two green, two blue?” -you
“precisely. how did you know?” -merrin
“hang on, no way—” -cal
“my master killed him shortly before we were split up…when the clones turned” -you
“grevious? really? master kenobi finally got him?” -cal
“who is this ‘grevious?’” -merrin
“general grevious, he was a separatist general—a cyborg. he wasn’t a jedi, he stole lightsabers from his kills. he ordered the attack on your home” -cal
“i’m so sorry, merrin” -you
you three were still healing from many scars, but doing it together was much more achievable than trying alone
it was a wonder you even made it to fortress inquisitorius
you, cal, cere. all three of you fought like hell to save those kids.
now, cal and you, you two had much different perspectives than say, cere or trilla
displaced padawans. little guidance. cal was barely old enough to even be a padawan learner, but times were desperate and the order called upon the youngling to start quite early. you were in a similar boat. it made you two see eye to eye better than most
trilla, a padawan with much more training and insight, one who was failed by the order that she was most loyal to. failed by her own master.
cere, a devout jedi master who failed many people who were counting on her. who lost herself to a side of herself that every jedi is supposed to fight.
and just before any resolution could come of all of you together, the famed and feared darth vader showed himself
and the sinking feeling you felt before he arrived froze you
“what is it, y/n? y/n?” -cere
*ominous breathing sounds*
you shook off the feeling, fleeing instead
cal and you were split up when you swore vader made a point to hold you back
“run cal! get out of here!” -you
“y/n l/n, i was hoping i would see you” -vader “where is obi-wan?!”
“i thought you were dead” -you
“is that what he told you?” -vader
“you’re going to kill me to get back at him? i haven’t seen him since the purge, anakin! i left!” -you
“there is no anakin!” -vader “did you leave, or did he leave you?”
“are you just going to let cal get away?” -you
“he can’t get far” -vader
“my journey is not important to you” -you
“you are like me, y/n. obi-wan failed us. these inquisitors are weak, impressionable, disposable. but i know how you think. i know how he thinks. i give you the opportunity to join me. fight with me.” -vader
“i saw the holotapes, anakin. i saw what you did to the younglings and i will not let you do it again. we are not alike, obi-wan did not fail me. i took a page out of ahsoka’s book, i found my own path. and it is not beside you.” -you
“this is not over, y/n. i trust you’ll find your way out” -vader, force pushing you off a ledge
you did find you way back out and merrin was quick to save you before going back for cal
you were left completely unharmed, as well, which was quite the surprise to everyone else
“what happened back there, y/n?” -cal
“nothing i’d like to relive” -you
cal nodded and let it go, focusing on the holocron floating before you all
your mind kept replaying memories as they discussed what to do with it
memories of anakin’s massacre. vader’s speech. younglings you couldn’t save. luke and leia somewhere across the galaxy. the inquisitors.
“destroy it.” -you
in one quick swipe, cal took his lightsaber to the glowing blue cube. no questions asked
and from there on, it was no longer about the order. you remembered why you left in the first place. the purge, the politics, your master couldn’t contain himself. your troops turned their blasters on you. everything you were taught was bantha fodder. and you were just a padawan
it was now about disassembling. scaring the people in power while giving the little guy some hope.
“this is a much better gig than obi-wan playing by the rules” -you
“from what you told me, him and anakin never played by the rules” -cal
the name made you shudder, but you pushed past it
“well, anakin was known as the rulebreaker. obi-wan always tried to reel him in. but, i’ve noticed a rule or two that master kenobi had bent” -you
“anakin has a padawan too, right?” -cal
“he did. she was also a rule breaker. when she left the order, i almost followed her. last i heard, she went to mandalore with half of the 501st. i, uh—” -you
“right…” -cal
you were still haunted from the encounter on nurr. still hadn’t told cal and it was eating you up inside.
but the fighting made it feel better
dismantling, stealing, helping
and then merrin left. and cere. and greez settled down. and you and cal were just two makeshift jedi knights with your tragic pasts and your need to keep your place in the galaxy
and keep each other close
but not too close
those rules you followed, the one’s obi-wan followed, you threw them out a long time ago. the jedi order was corrupt. you examined each council master postmortem and decided that they were all flawed despite their rank. you hated them for it.
but decided the one teaching you would follow would be to lose hate, a step to the dark side.
you didn’t really even know at this point, what was the difference between right and wrong anymore
cal and you continued fighting. joined up with saw gerrera. never left each other’s sides
which…sparked feelings you’d never really been taught or told how to deal with
only aversion, really. but it wasn’t like you didn’t really talk about it
“i don’t really see the problem with it. look at everything else we do, that’s not exactly the jedi way” -you
“it’s dangerous” -cal
“love is dangerous?” -you
“attachment is” -cal
“i figured you already had attachments. we were all a crew before this” -you
“i let them all go” -cal
“and you’d let me go?” -you
you began constantly questioning these ways and trying to fight for a new future with cal, without pressing too hard
but it was hard to ignore those feelings and harder to constantly be denied by your old life
and it was harder when the new crew always teased you two
“come on, kestis. if you don’t, i will” -gabs
“yeah, just go for it. who’s it hurting?” -bravo
“i’m just not ready to go there” -cal
you were more bothered than you let on
but you always put the mission first
up until your trip back to coruscant
“this is just a reminder of how little it all matters now. there’s no one left.” -you
“that’s why it matters” -cal
the intensity of this mission made it so it was just the two of you again
and maybe that would spark something…but you doubted it
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