#reader x cal kestis

[grievedeeply]

I saw you want requests after playing Survivor

👁👄👁

One shot of Cal running across fem reader that he knew when he was a padiwan (assumed dead)? And realizing why he was always so flustered and agitated by her 🤭🤭

this is so cute i loooove these reunion prompts i'm getting!!

fem!reader (no pronouns used) | tws/tags: death, sorta in depth order 66, use of y/n

JOIN MY NEW TAGLIST!!

they never left — cal kestis

you remembered the day clear in your mind as though it had happened yesterday. the purge. the clones tore through your master as though they were never even there. their last words to you ring true in your mind even ten years later, "run," and you did. you ran, using the force to reach into places they couldn't. you snuck past those who used to be your friends. you thought they cared for you. why had they all had a sudden change of heart? whatever the reason was, you knew you couldn't dwell. it wouldn't do you any good to be miserable.. even if that's all you wanted to do, sometimes.

over the years, you hid your abilities and tucked away your lightsaber for good. you swore to never use the force ever again. your family was gone. the order was gone, your master was gone.. and you couldn't reach out into the force to attempt to sense anyone. it was too risky.

cal. was he gone, too? he was another padawan under the tutelage of jedi master jaro tapal, a kind but intimidating lasat who you had met a few times. but cal.. cal was warm. he was inviting, he was friendly. he was everything an introverted child like yourself needed in a friend. the two of you quickly became rule breakers, sneaking out past curfews and past the temple guards who— looking back on it now— definitely saw you. you snuck out so often to spend time together, knowing that the likelihood of being assigned together on a mission was slim to none, it was the next best thing. maybe even better. at least there wasn't a risk of death, now.

you managed to get on each others nerves often, too. disagreeing and arguing and avoiding each other until you both forgot what happened. though, as you grew older, cal found himself getting more and more.. flustered.. when you were around. his face was constantly red, his palms were sweaty, his chest so tight it practically hurt to breath, and it irritated him. you irritated him. was it your fault? he didn't know. it only happened around you, so it had to be your fault, so he tried to avoid you.

it wasn't as though he treated you poorly. he could never do that. his heart and soul were too kind, too gentle. he didn't have a mean bone in his body.. but he wished you would just go away sometimes, to get that sinking feeling in his stomach to fade as it always did when you left.

now, cal knows what that feeling was. it was the beginnings of a crush. attachment and relationships were forbidden in the order. attachment made you selfish. it lead to jealousy, anger and resentment. a path to the dark side of the force. but now.. the jedi order was no more. it was destroyed years ago, but you hadn't lived to see it.

he heard your name. whispered in hushed voices by people on every planet he visited. your name, and the names of plenty of other jedi. plo koon, aayla secura.. anakin skywalker. but he focused on solely on you. you were killed alongside your master during the purge. you died, and he wasn't there to protect you. he reached into the force over and over, desperately trying to find a trace of you throughout it as time went on, but he found nothing. your death was confirmed, and there was nothing he could do about it.

you were glad word of your death spread fast. it was much easier to hide, and you had to move less often. your life proved more relaxed.. or as relaxed as it could be. despite your supposed death, your world would never be safe as long as you were force sensitive.

this time, kohbo was the world of choice. it was a nice, relatively backwater world in the outer rim. imperial presence, but as long as you kept your head down, you would fit in well. people from all sorts of backgrounds flocked to it. it wasn't like you would be out of place, and that fact was a relief. you'd stick to yourself as you always did, and everything would be well.

you stood, back pressed against the cold stone of the wall as you stared up towards the landing platform. a ship, a S-161 'stinger' XL, sat on the dock. you'd heard that it'd crashed out in the gorge a little ways away from rambler's reach. whoever piloted it knew greez in some way or another, and he'd managed to fix it, along with someone else you didn't know the name of. you didn't much care for their name, anyway. keeping your head down, staying out of trouble, that was the main goal.

until turgle fell off of the platform, screaming as he hurtled towards the ground. before you could even think, you reached out your hand and looked deep into the force, watching as he floated to the ground. his eyes were still closed and he yelped as you caught him, but other than that, he looked confused until his eyes landed on you, your hand extended out in his direction. he might be clumsy, but he wasn't exactly stupid.

you cringed, awkwardly sinking in on yourself as you turned around, ready to go back to your ship and leave koboh and everyone else on this planet behind.. until you heard turgle's voice call out your name.

"you," you heard him come up behind you, out of breath and looking red in the face, "you saved me!" he exclaimed, "with your.. your force magic." he said, eyes wide in disbelief. he stared you down, and you pursed your lips as you stared right back at him. "you're a jedi, aren't you?" he spoke up again, and all you could do was roll your eyes. "ha, of course not. you're just seeing things." you insisted to him with a simple shrug of your shoulders, turning on your heel to leave once again. by now, greez was hot on turgle's tail, his expression wide eyed and excited.

"oh, come on! i saw you," he retorted, "you saved me from imminent death.. and i am in your debt." he told you with a nod of his head, and you sighed. "you don't owe me anything, okay? just keep this quiet and we're even." you responded, and he nodded once again, eagerly. he stood there for a few moments until you raised your eyebrows, waiting for him to leave. finally taking the hint, he skipped away from you and into the cantina.

you let out a groan. turgle could barely be trusted. he would blabber about you eventually, and you didn't want to be around when he did. this place wasn't safe anymore. once more, you turned to leave, but heard the sound of greez clearing his throat. you weren't out of the woods, yet.

you shut your eyes, but glanced over your shoulder at him. his arms were crossed over his chest, but he wore a smile.

"there's someone i think you should meet, kid."

you furrowed your brow. you couldn't exactly say no, could you?

greez led you into the cantina through the back entrance, clambering up the steps through heavy breaths. who could he possibly want you to meet? a million questions ran through your mind as you came out into the main area of the cantina, and he gestured for you to take a seat next to him at the bar. you did so after a moment's hesitation, and you sat there, hunched over in your seat, feeling completely exposed. still, no one looked at you any differently as they did before.

"what am i doing here?" you asked, letting your elbow rest uncomfortably against the bar. greez spared you a glance, but kept at his drink. "someone i want you to meet, s'all." he reassured you, finally turning his chair to face you. you blinked a few times. his words did nothing to reassure you, for all you knew, he could be turning you in to the raiders or even the empire. you sighed, but decided to keep your mouth shut.

you watched the door as people entered and exited, waving goodbye to moran as he left for the night. over the few months you'd been staying on koboh, he was the only one you spoke to regularly. he came off as prickly, but the truth was, he was a sad, lonely man who needed a friend. even if making connections, getting attached, wad a bad idea.. moran was there for you when you needed someone, even if he didn't know it. he returned your wave with a smile, and the door slid shut behind him.

"it's been hours, who am i waiting for?" you spoke up again for the first time since you'd arrived. "any minute now," he reassured you, a knowing grin spread across his lips. what was he even talking abou-

the door slid open.. red hair. you froze in your seat, your hands suddenly felt sweaty and your heart fell into your stomach. the boy you once knew was now a man, but you would recognize his face anywhere. cal. he was alive. you practically jumped out of your seat and rushed into him without thinking, arms wrapped around his midsection in a tight hug. "cal.." you muttered his name under your breath, finally finding your voice as you pulled away to get a better look at him.

he had matured, grown into his features. he carried a newly fashioned saber on his belt, and on his shoulders was a cute BD unit. his cheeks were covered in freckles, his eyes still that same beautiful green, splattered with specks of blue.

"i thought.. i thought you were-" cal said, his voice barely a whisper. "i'm sorry," you told him, "i.. wish i knew you were alive." you continued after a pause, still taking in his new look. he looked.. handsome.

"i tried to find you," he swallowed, "through the force."

that feeling was back. the feeling from ten years ago. his palms were sweaty, and his heart pounded against his ribcage. a crush that never faded, that only grew once he saw how you'd grown. you were incredible then.. but now? you were stunning. his breath hitched in his throat, but he lifted his hand to your face. "i.. i'm so glad you're okay." he whispered to you, and you nodded, a small smile on your lips.

"okay, kids. break it up. you can.. make out later, or whatever." greez cut into the moment, his grating voice ringing unpleasantly in cal's ears. he chuckled awkwardly under his breath but took a few steps away from you. still, his eyes never left your face.

"we aren't.. we weren't-" you said, cheeks flushed in embarrassment at his suggestion. "uhuh.. whatever." he responded, eyes flickering back and forth between the two of you, and you felt as though he saw right through you. for a man as strange as he was, he read people incredibly well. "figured you'd get along. glad i was right." he continued before you had the chance to dig yourself further into the hole in your mind you were forming.

"i'll leave you two alone," he laughed, glancing knowingly between you and cal, a smirk on his face. still, he stayed true to his word and climbed out of his chair, walking out of the front entrance with a skip in his step.

you watched as he left, only turning back to cal once the door closed behind him. your mouth felt dry, and you licked your lips. "you.. um, you have a new lightsaber?" you asked, glancing down at the weapon hanging from his hip. he nodded, "my.. my first one, i lost it during the purge." you didn't reply to his words verbally, but sat your hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"and who's this?" you asked, a smile on your features as you glanced at the BD unit. "oh," cal said, matching your expression even though it seemed as though he forgot the droid was there at all. "this is BD-1," he told you, and you directed your grin at him, "you've been taking care of cal while i've been gone?" you teased, but the droid replied in completely serious beeps, much to his dismay.

"how long have you been here?" cal asked you after a pause, and you glanced around at your surroundings. the cantina needed some work.. and a deep cleaning. you turned your attention back to him, but a sigh fell from your lips. "a couple of months now." his gaze was soft as he stared into your eyes, and he took your hands into his own, grounding himself into this moment. "i heard you were dead, y/n." he muttered. "i.. i know." you spoke, your heart aching at the thought of him mourning for you. "the force.. i couldn't.. i couldn't feel you." he told you, and you said nothing in response, averting your gaze to his hands in your own.

this.. this moment reminded you of your childhood, running around the gardens of the temple with your hands entwined, completely ignoring your assigned training to play for awhile. except now, cal's hands were rough, and so were yours.

"i cut myself off from the force." you explained to him, "i had to hide. i've been hiding.. up until today." you could hear his breathing through the silence of the empty cantina, and he didn't say anything else. instead, he dropped your hands and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest.

"i love you." cal whispered into your neck, and you swore your breathing stopped. "what?" your arms fell to your sides, but he didn't pull away. "i love you." he repeated himself, pulling away to look into your eyes. his face was red, but the expression he wore was serious. "how could you.. how could you say that?" you asked, brows furrowed. his hands gripped your shoulders, and he let out a breathless chuckle.

"i've known it for years. when we were kids.. i had the biggest crush on you, and it bothered me. it bothered me how flustered i'd get around you even when you did.. absolutely nothing but smile." he explained, a growing smile forming across his face. "and irritated me. so i stayed away from you, thinking you were the one who bothered me all along." he said.

"but now the order doesn't exist anymore. the code is gone. but my.. my feelings for you- they never left." cal's voice fell to a whisper, "and seeing you now, it just makes me realize it all.. all over again." he took in a deep breath, but kept his eyes trained on your face. "so.."

"cal," you shut your eyes, shaking your head, "you actually felt that way that entire time when i thought you just started hating me for no reason?" you sighed, his lack of response telling you everything you needed to know.

you took a step closer to him, pressing your lips to his for a few seconds before pulling away. to cal, it wasn't nearly long enough. he leaned after your lips, eyes already completely closed as he'd relaxed into your touch. "i love you too. i always have." you told him, the feeling of his lips burned into your memory. they were chapped and dry.. but they fit against yours perfectly.

"really?"

"really."

he grinned, and kissed you again.

tags: @starwalkerwriting @war-in-time

#star wars #star wars x reader #star wars x reader headcanons #star wars x y/n #star wars x reader imagines #star wars x you #reader x cal kestis #cal kestis #cal kestis x y/n #cal kestis x reader #cal kestis x you

[anakin-skywalker-always]

Fluffy 🌸 with Clone Wars Anakin please? 🥺🥺 with maybe Ahsoka and Obi-Wan shipping them?

The Long Game

Pairing: Clone Wars Era!Anakin x Jedi!Knight Reader 

Requested: Yes | No

Warnings: Nothing too bad, but due to the nature of the Clone Wars obviously there is potential mentions of death/loss/wounds etc. I am Australian and therefore swear words aren’t worth a warning for me, but I shall place a warning here regardless. As always, let me know if you think there should be something listed here. 

Words: 1.5k - sorry its very short, I'm hoping a part 2 will be requested <3

Author’s Notes: ahhhhh! Thank you for the request @darthgloris I hope this is okay I had a brief idea and I ran with it, hope its still fluffy enough for you! 🥰 This was requested via my Emoji Request Prompts

Anakin was nothing if not arrogant, egotistical and, surprisingly talented to boot. As a youngling he excelled, as a Padawan learner he saved Senator and friend Padmé Amidala’s life more than once. Now, as General Skywalker, Anakin felt like he had grown into himself, grown into his power. It felt limitless, he was limitless. Anakin often had dreams of spreading himself thin, extending his power across the galaxy like a blanket, keeping everyone and everything safe.

He thought highly of himself, it wasn’t a secret. And, he didn’t think it was particularly a problem. He was the Chosen One, was he not? If anyone in the Jedi Temple was allowed to peacock a bit, it was him. 

Well, that’s how Anakin rationalised it to himself anyway. Besides, Anakin did not like playing the long game. What was the point when he could sieze everything he wanted now? 

Regardless, he had a sharp learning curve when it came to his own Padawan learner, Ashoka Tano. The snippy young girl challenged him more than most. He saw so much of himself in her, the power, the strength, the raw talent. Frustratingly, Anakin saw his faults in her too. Occasionally, the arrogance being something that Anakin couldn’t ignore. Like right now for example. 

“Please Kestis the only reason you were moved from youngling to Padawan,” Ashoka paused, pointing her spoon at her young red-headed friend. “Is because the council wanted to try and mellow out your Master with the responsibility of a child.” 

Anakin cringed as the young boy - Cal Kestis - pouted at the breakfast table. Anakin could sense Obi-wan’s displeasure from beside him, he saw his old master holding his tongue, allowing Anakin to take the floor in order to berate his Padawan. 

Unfortunately, she had a point. And, embarrassingly enough, Ashoka’s argument came straight from the kitchen, so they say. Well, his mother, Shmi, used to say. Anakin remembered expressing the same frustration only a few weeks prior. Jedi Knight, Jedi Master, Council member and friend, Y/N L/N, was unable to join Anakin and Ashoka on a crucial mission in the outer rim, due to the passover of her new, young apprentice: Cal Kestis. It perhaps wasn’t the most fair or patient thing for Anakin to do, but he blamed the boy and focused all of his frustration on the twelve-year-old. 

Fuck it, Anakin thought. He had to admit to himself, he was a little jealous of the boy. He could not help but want to be the center of your attention, at all times. Which isn’t a very Jedi thing to want. But Anakin wanted more. He always did. He always felt distracted, like he was slipping away from his mental fortitude the more he thought of you. You were playing some kind of long game with him, and he didn’t like it, the guessing, the pining - it all kept him up at night more than the war had. 

Anakin supposed he was ought to be worried about it, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. He pined after you, and all he wanted was for you to maybe, even consider him more than a work colleague. 

“Ahsoka.” Anakin said sternly, as he pushed his Jedi mandated food around his Jedi mandated plate with his Jedi mandated fork, not bothering to look up at his young charge. “Watch your snippy mouth.” 

“She’s not wrong, Master.” Meekly, Cal Kestis mirrored General Skywalker across the table. Anakin felt for the young boy then. Anakin looked up, finally taking in the boy. With his fiery hair and splattering of freckles across his face, he seemed inherently sad, with his lips held tight in a line. Anakin couldn’t help but remember the same expression on his own face as he made his way around Watto’s junkyard. 

“Do you not like your Master, young Kestis?” Obi-wan sensed Anakin’s mind was far, far away, the anxiety rolling off him in thick waves. 

Cal looked up, quickly, at the two Jedi knights in front of him. He felt like he was in shock, as if the air had been torn from his lungs. Of all the questions he expected to be asked, that was not one of them. 

“No!” Cal defended, adamantly. “No! Well yes!” The young Padawan could feel the heat rise to his pale face, heating the back of his neck. General Kenobi quirked an eyebrow at the boy, urging him to continue. Kestis sighed, gathering his thoughts once more. He was embarrassed. “I am afraid I am too attached to Master L/N.” He started. Anakin felt his lip twitch, fighting a smile at the honesty from the young learner. Cal continued, “I don’t want to let her down, but my lightsaber skills are not where she wants them to be, I need more training but I am afraid to ask.” 

From the corner of his eye Anakin watched as Obi-wan opened his mouth. He knew what his old master would say: Just ask, Padawan. That is what the master is there for, to teach. But Anakin knew what it felt like to want more. 

“I would be happy to provide you with additional combat training, Padawan Cal Kestis.” Anakin leant back in his chair, both hands happily resting behind his head, left ankle at home on his right knee, lips comfortably in a smirk. 

Long game it was. 

Your eyes scanned the meals room in the Temple for your Padawan learner. You knew that you could use the force to locate him, if you wanted. But, your relationship with Cal was still so new, and somehow that felt like encroaching on the young boy’s privacy. 

Besides, there was another presence in the large dining hall that almost overwhelmed you. Anakin Skywalker. 

Arrogant, talented, intelligent, calculated, The Chosen One, handsome, flirtatious. You weren’t sure where you stood with Anakin. You longed to call him friend, but you were ultimately convinced he saw you little more as a colleague. 

Despite all that though, he was a hard man to escape at the best of times. And now, since Cal and Anakin’s Padwan, Ahsoka Tano, were friends, you knew that Anakin would always be around. 

You couldn’t help the schoolgirl flutter that it striked into you. It was exciting, you supposed, to finally have something a bit easy on the eye about constantly. It certainly made the war a little easier, to do missions with Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker. 

Eventually, Cal’s beautiful bright hair shone like a beacon for you. You began to weave your way across the room. You couldn’t help to admit that you’ve become attached to him, you deeply cared for him, his wellbeing. As much as you loved the Jedi, you often thought of Cal playing, running free with kids his own age. Not becoming a soldier on the front lines of an intergalactic war. Perhaps that was why you slacked on Cal’s training. You simply wanted him to be loved, to be happy, to be a child. 

All of the fondness you held so tightly quickly got packed away once you realised who Cal was sat with. Approaching the breakfast table you clocked Anakin’s relaxed figure. The effortlessly beautiful set of his lips, the way that his eyelashes curled upwards, you were convinced his demeanour was larger than life. And, maybe, perhaps, you let your eyes wander for a beat longer than what was socially acceptable. 

Gently you placed your hand on Cal’s shoulder, perhaps it was because you were his Master, or maybe it was something deeper, something maternal, but you always felt more at ease when you had him close. With a slight bow of your head, you opened:

“Morning to you Master Kenobi, Ahsoka.” You took a moment to lick your lips, your whole mouth had gone dry, but you tried desperately to save yourself from Anakin’s piercing gaze. “General Skywalker.” The rest greeted you verbally, but Anakin said nothing, just a simple tilt of his head. You held Anakin’s gaze, his blue eyes held something else in them, you felt like he was playing some kind of game. You didn’t mind game, but only if you knew the rules, and Anakin was one to make up the play as he went along. You felt Cal clear his throat, his body lurching under your hand.

Finally, you broke the contact with Anakin, ruffiling Cal’s hair, and placing his braid behind his ear. “If you’d excusae us, my Padawan and I have much to do.” 

Anakin waited for at least 30 seconds for you and your Padawan to start walking away before he turned in his chair to follow you out with his eyes. 

Ahsoka watched as her usually oh-so-clever and suave and calculating Master watch Cal Kestis and his Master leave the dining hall like a Lothal Cat waiting for its owner to return. She couldn’t help but smile, Anakin’s pining was hilarious, and Master L/N was a good choice. She turned to share a look with Master Kenobi, and to Ahsoka’s delight he was chuckling softly to himself, coving his smile with his hand, playing it off as if he was simply stroking his beard. 

Ahsoka knew Anakin thought he was playing some kind of long game, but it was going to be a painfully long pining. Not if she was going to have anything to do with it.

------

P.S This is a side account, my main is @mayhemories, so I will be answering any comments with that account but rest assured it is still me :) <3

Much love, El. 

#anakin x reader #star wars #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin smut #anakin x y/n #anakin skywalker angst #anakin skywalker fluff #star wars x reader #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x you #anakin x you #cal kestis #the clone wars #star wars the clone wars #anakin skywalker clone wars #general skywalker

[unfxrgetwble]

i love reading fanfic bc they are all so different like one minute im reading an enemies to lovers and my fictional bf of the day is a jerk and the next one he is the sweetest man to walk the earth!! THE DIVERSITY

#fanfic #cal kestis x reader #lip gallagher x reader #steven conklin x reader #conrad fisher x reader #geralt x reader #warren worthington x reader #vinnie hacker x reader #joel miller x reader #x reader #fan fiction #dave lizewski fanfic #fandom #fictional characters #fictional bf of the day

[multi-fan-dom-madness]

Laundry Day (Cal Kestis x reader)

Summary: Cal can’t always control when his psychometric powers grant him a glimpse of the past. And even less so when the object holds a powerful emotional echo.

Or: Cal picks up the shirt you masturbated in.

Warnings: NSFW 18+ MINORS DNI; afab!reader but no pronouns used; no use of y/n; porn with some plot; hints of voyeurism if you squint; sub!Cal if you squint; first kiss; first time; hand job; masturbation; if I missed anything please let me know!

A/N: This is shameless and self-indulgent and hastily written before the motivation left. I will not apologize.

Word Count: 2,205

Read it here on AO3!

NSFW below the cut!

You clench your jaw, the damp fabric of your shirt caught between your teeth as you struggle to keep quiet. But gods your fingers feel so good circling your clit and you’re absolutely soaked right now and you have to be quiet because Cal is sleeping in the room across the hall.

The thought of Cal overhearing your late-night activities makes your pussy clench around nothing. Eyes falling shut, you gather some more wetness and press more firmly on that bundle of nerves that has you on fire. Images of Cal’s toned forearms, freckled face, powerful thighs flash through your mind. You stifle a groan.

This is so bad, and you know it. You shouldn’t be getting off to the thought of your friend—never mind the fact that he’s a Jedi. But even when he’s only hidden behind a few thin durasteel walls, he occupies your mind. The way his eyes dance with fiery determination when a new opportunity to strike against the Empire arises. The way his plush lips curve up into sarcastic smiles at your jokes. His tenderness with BD. His softness with you.

And that’s what gets you all riled up in the first place: it’s just how genuinely good Cal Kestis is. There’s not a mean bone in his body. He takes care of you, and you of him, and the domesticity of it all drives you absolutely insane.

Which leads you here. You finally plunge two of your fingers into your tight, wet heat, imagining—wishing—it was Cal’s fingers instead. Exhaling a shaky breath, you crook your fingers up against the spongy wall of your cunt and press. Your hips rock involuntarily, and the added friction against your clit has your toes curling. You breathe deep through your nose, loosening your muscles as the wave of pleasure zinging through you crests.

And you cum, teeth unlatching from your shirt as you gasp out Cal’s name.

Once the aftershocks die down, you shuck the shirt off over your head, the neckline entirely damp with your now-cooling saliva. The temperature is uncomfy; you snatch a clean shirt from beneath your bunk to wear instead. Tossing the soiled shirt toward your growing laundry pile, you settle down under the covers at last, curling on your side as sleep finally, finally takes you.

The next morning when you wake, the comforting hum of the hyperdrive engine is silent. You must’ve arrived at your next destination while you slept. Good. Even though it’s only been you and Cal for about a year now, you still try to keep some extra supplies on board in case any of the old crew decide to rejoin you and Cal. And after your last run-in with the Empire, forcing you into hiding for a standard month, all of your supplies are low. You’ll use this opportunity to restock.

But first, you need to wash up. The lights on both Cal’s door and the ’fresher are green, meaning he’s probably up in the cockpit with BD. Slipping into the ’fresher, you lock the door behind you and turn the knob to heat the water up. Your sleep clothes crumple to the floor as you shuffle out of them, trying to focus on creating a mental list of the supplies you’ll need to pick up today. Yet, your traitorous mind keeps drifting back to your solo fun last night—heat throbbing between your legs at just the thought of how hard you came—and you shake your head angrily at yourself.

“Get a grip,” you grumble.

As if summoned by your thoughts, there’s a knock at the door. You jump. Your heart hammers in your throat.

“Kriff, Cal, you scared me,” you call through the door.

“Sorry,” he calls back, and you hear the genuine regret in his voice. “I just wanted to check to see if you had any laundry? It’ll be a bit before we’re able to get it done after today.”

“Good thinking,” you say. “There’s a pile on my floor. I can get it, though; don’t worry about my stuff.”

He doesn’t respond, and you visualize the sardonic, two-fingered salute he’s recently gotten in the habit of giving. A smile quirks your lips.

A smile that is quickly obliterated as a jolt of pure anxiety bursts through you. Gods, knowing Cal, he’s already gone to grab your dirty laundry, and the shirt—the fucking shirt—is right on top, and you know he can’t always control his psycho-Force-whateveritscalled powers.

The ’fresher door slams open and you dash across the narrow hall to your room.

To your horror, Cal is in fact there, gathering your clothes from the floor, and the warning to wait gets choked in your throat as he grabs the shirt on the top of the pile, the one that’s surely still damp with your spit and sweat.

His entire body stiffens, eyes widening, his grip on the other clothes going limp as he experiences the Force echo you’ve left behind. Feeling like you’ve been doused in gasoline and ice at the same time, it finally registers for you that you’re naked in front of Cal fucking Kestis and he’s feeling you cum to the thought of him.

“Cal, I—”

“Oh.” The strangled moan that tears from his throat has your mind reeling, never in a million years imagining that you’d ever hear him make such a lewd noise, let alone in reaction to you.

You reach for him, placing a shaking hand on his arm. “Are- Are you okay?”

He blinks and seems to physically re-enter this current moment. His cheeks are bright pink, his chest heaving. At his wide-eyed once over of your naked form, your knees nearly give out.

“I’m so sorry,” you continue. Panic seizes at your lungs, making it hard to breathe. “I shouldn’t have- I should have- I’m so so sorry, Cal, I can leave if you want—”

“Hey.” He rests both of his large, warm hands on your bare shoulders, forcing you to look him in the eye. “Deep breaths. I’m not- I’m not mad.”

“You’re not?” You try to catch your breath, but the darkening of his green eyes has your breath catching for an entirely different reason now.

He shakes his head. “How long?”

Chewing at the inside of your cheek nervously, you drop your gaze. “Months. Since we first met.”

Gently, he guides your chin up so that you meet his gaze again. His eyes are soft—darker than usual, yes—but there’s that familiar softness to them that unwinds some of the tension in your chest. He holds your gaze long enough for your heart to stop pounding, but you can’t will away the swirling pit of regret pulling at your insides. He’s not mad, which is great, but he’s still not said anything and you can’t figure out what he might say or what he’s feeling or—

“Can I kiss you?”

You blink dumbly. “What?”

A faint smile ghosts over his features. “Can I kiss you?”

“Oh gods yes,” you squeak out.

A true smile tugs at his lips, and then slowly, giving you ample time to change your mind and pull away, he leans down, one hand supporting the back of your head, the other cupping your cheek. Your eyes close and you stand on your toes, meeting him halfway.

His lips are as soft as you imagined, and you can’t help the needy whine that escapes you as he pulls you flush against him. Your bare, heated skin presses against the leather of his chest piece, tantalizing against the sensitive skin of your breasts. Snaking one hand up into his silken hair, your other grips at his muscled bicep, grounding yourself. His mouth moves slowly against your own.

This is really fucking happening.

He breaks the kiss, but doesn’t go far, resting his forehead against your own. You peer up through your eyelashes at him.

“I take it you feel the same?” you ask, breathless.

“Since we met,” he affirms in a low tone. His thumb brushes over your bottom lip, and you catch the digit between your teeth and suck. He groans. “Gods, if I’d known...”

You just hum, swirling your tongue around his thumb until he withdraws, only to kiss you again. Electricity feels like it dances along your skin where he touches you. Blindly, you tug him backwards with you until your legs hit the bunk. Lowering yourself, he follows, bracing himself over you with his forearms to either side of your head, caging you in. With a soft moan, you hook a leg over his hips and drag him down to you. The friction of his clothes against your aching core makes you hiss.

“Fuck, take these off, please,” you plead, tugging with weak fingers at his shirt.

He sits up just long enough to rip the offending garments off, and you practically drool at the sight of his toned chest as it is revealed to you. Scars litter the otherwise smooth alabaster, and you know you’ll take your time at a later date tracing them, committing them to memory. Right now, though, your attention is drawn farther down as he shimmies out of his pants. His hard cock, the tip a gorgeous shade of pink, bobs as it comes free of its confines.

“Oh gods,” you groan. “May I?”

“Please.”

You’ve never heard his voice so strained before, and you are nothing if not eager to continue drawing sounds from him. Wrapping your fingers tentatively around the hot shaft of his dick, you hum in delight at the way he twitches in your grip. You slowly work his cock, eyes trained on his face, catching every flutter of his eyelashes, every time he bites his lip, every miniscule reaction you can possibly gain from him.

“I want you inside me,” you say.

He groans. “I- I’ve never—”

“It’s alright,” you soothe. You release him for a moment to gather some of the slick from between your folds—and can’t resist rubbing your pussy for just a few seconds, letting a broken moan fall from your lips. Then you use the slick to lube his dick up.

“C’mere,” you say, your legs widening for him to slot in between. “I’ve got you. Say the word and it all stops.”

“I want this,” he says, eyes trained on yours as he settles himself between your thighs. “I want you.”

You hum in delight and, guiding him, line his cock up with your neglected entrance. Wrapping your legs around him, you press down with your heels to push him into you.

His head falls to your shoulder with a broken, gasping moan. You clench at the burning stretch of him filling you, nails digging into his smooth skin. He’s not even touched you, barely begun to fuck you, and you’re already ready to cum.

“Cal,” you murmur, caressing his back, “you okay?”

“S’alot,” he mumbles against your skin. “Can I—?”

“Yes, please.” You press a kiss to his shoulder. “Make love to me, Cal.”

With a whine, he slowly withdraws, every ridge and vein of his cock dragging deliciously on your walls, and then pushes back into you just as slowly. You moan with him at the sensation of filling and being filled, unsure where you begin and he ends, lost in the feeling of just him. He sets a languid pace, kissing your neck, murmuring sweet words in your ear: “You feel so good. Take me so well. Fuck, I needed this. Needed you.”

When he adjusts his grip on you, reaching beneath your body to support your hips, you laugh breathlessly.

“Gonna cum like this.”

He bites down on the sensitive juncture between your neck and shoulder as he snaps his hips against yours, making you cry out. The agonizingly slow pull out, the moment’s pause where only his tip remains in your dripping pussy, and then the overwhelming burst of pleasure as he slams back into you: it’s all you know. It’s all you’ve ever known, all you ever will know. You babble praises, begging, pleading with him, the coil in your belly growing tighter and hotter the harder he fucks into you.

“Can feel you’re close,” he slurs. “Cum for me. Please.”

That’s what does it, hearing him beg for you to cum on him. You go rigid, white flashing in your eyes as the tight coil snaps. Pleasure floods through you, and dimly you’re aware of Cal growling against your ear as he rocks you through it, his promises of cumming in you only serving to draw out the shockwaves of your orgasm. You think you scream. And then, when you feel his dick pulse as he goes absolutely still, you cum again.

He’s laughing when you come down from your high. He remains in you even as he begins to go soft, his giddy, breathless giggles pure music to your ears.

“What’s so funny?” you ask, twirling a strand of his hair between your fingers.

“I just— this is not how I expected today to go,” he says, still laughing.

You smile. “Maybe you should do the laundry more often, hm?”

He just kisses you, and you’re content with that answer.

#cal kestis x reader #cal x reader #smut #reader insert #rhiwrites

[blue-sadie]

Blinded By Feelings

Armitage Hux, Cal Kestis, Poe Dameron, Din Djarin, Anakin Skywalker

They have feelings for you their enemy

Armitage Hux

He hated you even through he's never met you, he loathed your very being and it only increased when he met you, you were another general that to fought to be the best.

And when you two were together in a meeting or just in passing in the corridors you two would bicker like children over plans or random things that was annoying one of you that day.

He would only realize his feelings when a storm trooper would ask him but he would tell them to shut up and threaten them saying he would throw him into space if he ever spoke something so ridiculous again, but it would cloud his mind days after that.

He would feel disgusted by himself and avoid you by all cost but his efforts went to waste when you come back injured from a mission and he would make it his personal mission to take you to the med bay and scold you at the same time.

"You are stupid as the rebellion if you think you would not get scolded for your actions you could've gotten yourself killed next time at least tell me first so I can get you better storm troopers"

Cal Kestis

You joined the crew way before he did and had a stronger bond with greez and cere he was kinda jealous it wasn't much of a hatred thing he just found you kinda annoying to be around and would avoid being with you.

Every time you tried talking to him he would ignore you or when you saved him countless times he would just give you a forced thank you but nothing more.

The thing that made him notice is that you would start showing up in his dreams more or when he meditates, he'd find it annoying at first but he'd start thinking about you more and more.

He'd start listening and paying more attention to you which not only freaked you out but the other crew members to, during one of the missions he'd actually listen to your ideas instead of shutting you up.

"You have some really good ideas I should've started listening to you sooner, I'm sorry about that by the way I guess I was just jealous of you"

Poe Dameron

You were the rebellions best mechanic and the person that would work on his x-wing without his consent he'd hate it even though it needed to be done, he hates it more when you'd leave sticky notes telling him about the up grades you've done to his ship.

He would complain to Leia about you but she'd just laugh and tell him off because your just doing your job so then he'd come complain directly to you but you'd just ignore him continuing on his next up grade.

He'd have a few people tell him that he probably has a crush on you because of him talking about you so much but what really makes him realize is when he sees you talking to others guys and the jealousy he feels.

When returning from one of his missions his x-wing battered and needing repairs he'd actually come straight to you to ask you to repair it for him.

"I know I found it annoying but I've come to realize your up grades are kinda.... helpful after saving me a few times so what I'm trying to say is I'd like you to continue working on my ship"

Din Djarin

Your were an assassin, killing off the high end people most bounty hunters were afraid to kill, you've also killed a few of his bountys making him pissed.

He's only ever layed eyes on you a few times in crowed bars or a desolate street he doesn't really care about knowing you because why would he get to know his enemy a thief.

He'd only start looking out for you more when you saved him from an ambush you shot his captures in the head and threw him a gun before disappearing again.

He'd be against the idea of ever actually falling for you because of his past experiences but after some more encounters with you he'd would stop you before you vanish again.

"You can reject this offer but I'm still putting it out there, I want you to join me us, it would be alot easier we work together then you stealing my bountys so what do you say"

Anakin Skywalker

You are master windus padowan and the person he's always compared to why can't you be like yn why can't you take after her, it was something he heard almost everyday which makes him hate you.

He hates how kind you are even through his hateful words he spits your way or when you'd sometimes take the fall for one of his stupid plans he never even thanks you.

He like hux only got the realization when you got hurt, you'd taken a hit that was ment for him, the panic he felt as he watched you fall made him snap and kill whoever did it.

He'd spend day and night by your bedside in the medbay pacing back and forth as he tried thinking about his feelings, they'd only calm down when he sees you awake.

"Don't do that ever again do you hear me, you don't deserve to be here especially because of me I should be in this bed instead of you, do you know what you put me through I thought I lost you"

#star wars #star wars headcanons #star wars angst #star wars x reader #star wars x reader headcanon #star wars x reader angst #armitage hux #armitage hux x reader #general hux #general hux x reader #cal kestis x reader #cal kestis #poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin headcanons #armitage hux headcanons #general hux headcanons #cal kestis headcanons #poe dameron headcanons #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker headcanons

[goosewriting]

Of bunk beds and confessions

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.

#goose feathers #cal kestis x reader #star wars cal x reader #jedi fallen order x reader #star wars x reader

[kindasleepywriter]

An Unexpected Visit (Cal Kestis x Mechanic!Reader)

Summary: You find a little metal friend in your lonely workshop on Koboh and you have no idea where he came from. The answer to that question brings you more hope than you thought it would.

Warnings: Small blood mention.

Words: 3.8k

Note: Thought I'd post a little something while I work on the next few chapter of BoP! Pretty sure this is gender neutral, but if im wrong don't hesitate to point it out!!

Koboh was a hot planet to live on even on its coldest days. There was no such thing as frost here, and snow was out of the question. The native population of the planet was used to it, buildings designed to keep out the sweltering air and clothes made of the thinnest materials.

You, however, hated it.

You’d been warned the planet was warm, but no one had quite mentioned how high the temperature really was. You regretted trusting the Ihi Tib that had brought you here more than anything, but you’d used up all your credits on that trip and there was no way in hell to make that money again to leave, not while working here.

You longed for Habo, the little planet you’d decided against in favor of this one. No raiders, no empire soldiers, just nature and its shy inhabitants. No droids either, but there wasn’t any here either, so you didn’t care. Sometimes, you dreamt of reaching its lush forests and mountains and feeling cold drops of rain on your skin.

The metal roofing of your shop did you no good either, heat waves often visible above it. Its only room felt like a furnace even at the best of times, and you weren’t a stranger to the feeling of sweat-soaked clothes sticking to you uncomfortably anymore.

You tinkered with a metal detector that some prospector had brought to you, taking the opportunity of the night’s barely detectable coolness to work on a project. Apparently, it had stopped functioning properly after it’d been dropped into a chasm. By the looks of it, you were surprised it even was in one piece. Well, mostly in one piece. Maybe the revenue you’d make from this might be able to pay for new boot soles, yours having almost completely disintegrated because of the burning sand that covered the entire region.

The only sound in your workshop was the harsh grating of your screwdriver against the detector’s metal, as you tried to pry open its chassis. The thing just wouldn’t budge, and you considered whether the boots were even worth it.

A whistling sound startled you, the old screwdriver slipping and taking a chunk out of your palm. You swore and tugged a rare oil-free cloth from the toolbox beside you, hitting your head on your work lamp in the process and swearing again. You pressed the cloth against the wound to stop the bleeding and looked towards the open room to determine where the whistling had come from. The door to the shop was locked, you’d triple-checked it while closing. Was this one of the raider lackeys trying to draw you outside again? You’d fallen for it exactly once and promptly learned not to investigate strange noises you might hear outside, but this sounded like a mechanical whistle, not a breathing being.

The strange whistling sounded again, this time from behind you. You spun on your heels, tied the cloth around your hand, and reached for the rusty rebar you kept by your workstation. Nothing seemed amiss at first glance. Had you imagined the sound? Maybe the heat was getting to you, you hadn’t refilled your water canister since this morning. Dehydration hallucinations were rare for you, but you’d still had your fair share, especially when you’d just arrived to Koboh. Getting used to this planet had been a challenge.

Suddenly a flash of red and white crossed the room, hiding behind a wooden bin you used to store your own unfinished projects. The whistle came again, followed by a few beeps. A droid, you realized. He’d been speaking binary! You’d hardly recognized it, not having heard it since your arrival. Lots of droids, the Ihi Tib had assured you, the bastard.

“Hey little buddy, can I help you?” you called, slightly lowering the rebar but still holding it tightly with your free hand. A series of beeps followed in response. It was mostly unintelligible, but you could make out the meaning of some of it.

“Yeah, I’m the mechanic here, do you need something fixed?”

A scared whistle. You crouched, putting down the rebar at reaching distance from your hands.

“I’ve let go of the iron, I won’t hurt you as long as you don’t hurt me, deal?”

You received no response, but the droid tentatively stepped out from its hideout. It was a cute one, you thought, a little flat head and cubical body supported by its two lanky legs. You could see his eyes focusing and zooming on you, no doubt examining you for any sign of aggression. You raised your hands as a peace gesture, and he stepped closer. He emitted a green light from his position. You laughed at the sudden scan but didn’t move.

From up close, you could see the damage he carried. The side of his left leg was blackened as if burnt, and its small body had a gaping hole that revealed his inner components. No wonder he’d been scared, one more hit and he’d be fried. He looked mostly intact on the inside, but you’d need him in your hands to determine if that was the case. You went to speak but got cut off by the loud noise of your door slamming shut behind you.

“Beedee, I told you to wait while I left to find a spare-”

You squealed at the man’s voice, grabbing the piece of rebar again, wincing as it rubbed against your clothed palm, and jumped to your feet.

A man stood at the entrance of your shop, only a few feet from you. You shakily held up the rebar between the two of you as a threat, the droid incoherently beeping behind you and hitting you with his little leg. You ignored him, and the intruder raised his hands, showing you that they were empty. You could see a metal baton at his side and a pistol strapped to his thigh, but he wasn’t reaching for them despite the threat of your rebar.

“Whoa, easy,” he exclaimed rapidly, “I’m not here to attack you!”

“What do you want?” you called, “Shop’s closed at this hour.” It was fairly late in the night, and not many people were still up at this time apart from you. No one with good intentions, at least.

He took a less defensive stance, increasingly unimpressed at your choice of weapon, or your unsteady hold of it. “My name’s Cal, I’m just here for beedee.” He gestured to the droid. “Come on buddy, we’ve got to get back to Greez.”

The cantina’s owner?

“How do you know Greez?” you asked with narrowed eyes. You’d never seen this man, and he’d never been around here. News spread fast in a village this small, you would’ve heard about it in less than a day. The cantina sometimes welcomed suspicious or dangerous individuals, and you wondered if this new guy was one of them.

“It’s a… long story. I’m just visiting. Beedee, let’s go.”

You examined the man closer, as he was clearly only interested in the droid. Now that the adrenaline had mostly run its course, your mind pointed out how attractive the man was. Sure, his armor-looking leather garments looked like they had seen better days, but it was hard to ignore his soft-swept hair, scatter of freckles and sharp jawline that his stubble didn’t quite manage to hide, not to mention his lean yet muscled build.

The droid, beedee, didn’t make a move to leave. Instead, he pushed into your leg again and emitted a series of noises you couldn’t understand.

“Is he always this unclear or is my binary just rusty?” you asked the man hesitantly, keeping the rebar in hand and taking a few steps back to put space in between the two of you.

“He got shot in the middle of a fight, his vocabulator got damaged,” he said. Your grip on the metal tightened. A fight? “I was going to fly to a relay point to find him a new one, but this guy,” he shot a reproachful look at the droid, “Won’t stay put long enough for me to go.”

The droid continued his monologue. The only word you could make out was ‘Mechanic’.

“I’m a mechanic, beedee, is that why you came to see me?”

He near-violently nodded his head.

“I’m sorry he disturbed you, like I said, we need the new component to fix it.” Cal said, shrugging.

You crouched and took a closer look. You could view the injured piece now, its main area intact but its outer edge clearly burnt out. You shook your head. “You don’t need a new one, actually.”

Cal looked at you like you’d grown a third head. “Have you seen the chip? That thing is as good as dead.”

“Not if you reroute the circuit towards his internal commlink instead.”

He blinked. “You’ve worked on droids before?” he asked cautiously.

You nodded. “It’s what I trained for as a teen on my home planet, but I had the great luck of finding a dishonest pilot who promised me there were a lot of droids here.” You gestured to your near empty workshop, embarrassed. “As you can see, not quite the reality of the area. The only ones here are those the raiders keep, and I’ve made it quite clear to them on multiple occasions that they could shove it. Being on their bad side isn’t the greatest, but at least I’m not helping them loot and kill people. Used to work on ships too and loved that, but those are also lacking here.”

He looked at you as if evaluating your body language. You weren’t exactly hard to read; you wore your emotions quite visibly. “Why haven’t you left?” he asked.

“A droid mechanic on a droid-less planet doesn’t exactly have the revenue to jump on a hyperspace voyage. Maybe in a couple years, but at this rate the raiders will have found any stash of money I could keep. Anyways! what I’m trying to say is I can fix beedee if you want.” The droid beeped approvingly from where he stood, jumping up and down in triumph.

Cal seemed to weigh the risks. You didn’t blame him, some unknown mechanic on a near empty outer rim planet didn’t exactly inspire confidence, but you knew you could make the repairs easily.

“Alright,” he said defeatedly, “but if a single electrical filament is damaged, I’ll know, and you won’t get a cent.”

You shrugged, his threat not scaring you. The droid already had enough injuries as is, you weren’t planning on adding to them.

Beedee jumped up to the worktable you’d been working at earlier and you pushed aside the metal detector with a wince. The movement pulled on your palm painfully. The droid didn’t miss your reaction and pushed on your injured hand with a foot.

“Just a cut, little guy, nothing to worry about.” You said, perhaps unconvincingly. The screwdriver you’d used was a bit rusty, and you knew you should get a bacta patch to keep an infection from spreading, but you couldn’t afford one. You’d wash it out with water later and hope for the best.

The droid didn’t miss a beat at words and a little vial was suddenly flung up in the air. You didn’t manage to catch it, not having the reaction time you might have with more rest and water in you, but a calloused hand caught it before it could hit the ground. Cal stood next to you, offering the tube in an open hand

“A stim?” you exclaimed, picking it up and examining it, “I haven’t seen one of those in years, they cost a fortune.” You glanced towards Cal.  “I’m not sure the cut warrants using one.” you added.

The man just folded his arms and leaned against the table. “If beedee says you need one, I wouldn’t argue, or else you’ll be arguing with him all night.” he said.

You mumbled a soft thank you as you injected the stim, your hands already feeling much better after only a few seconds. You took off the cloth and despite the dark red that coated your hand, the cut had all but disappeared, leaving only a thin pink line behind. You scrubbed the dry blood off as best you could and turned towards the droid again.

He sat in front of you, presenting his exposed wiring. You picked up your smallest welder and started working, self-conscious of your beat-up tools. You could feel Cal leaning in with each detailed movement you made, unquestionably watching the process to learn how to do it himself. You worked as diligently as you could despite your focus trailing occasionally to the man that held close to your side. The slight reprieve the night air provided seemed gone, his warmth seeping into your skin.

It wasn’t a complicated job, you just needed to reroute the processor to the commlink to translate the droid’s processes into clear binary code to then bypass the burnt translator located on the edge of the vocabulator. It was a trick that was specific to this type of vocabulator though, so it wasn’t a well-known process.

You finished with the rerouting, satisfied by the clear binary beedee could now emit as he properly introduced himself to you. And idea shot through you and you slipped out from Cal’s side to reach for your spare parts bin. You rummaged through it for a moment, the droid sending you a questioning whistle.

“Wait a minute! I know I’ve got it somewhere here…” you grumbled. “Ah-ah! Here it is.”

You held out a grey piece of thin durasteel as you sauntered back to the waiting duo, grabbing your heat gun along the way. “I think I can give you a temporary fix for your casing, let me just… There! It doesn’t match your colors, but it should do the trick.” You slid a newly shaped metal plate over the spot where the casing had melted away, grinning at its sturdiness. “This won’t fix it forever; I’d need a little more time to make an entirely new one and to make it the right color, but this should keep your components safe for a while!”

BD-1, as you now knew him, spun around in circles as he tried to check out his new part. You took out a small mirror from a drawer and held it up to him so he could see. He let out a string of excited beeps and whistles, repeatedly asking Cal to look at his ‘cool looking patch’. You glanced to the man on your side and discovered him watching you intently with a small smile. You felt your cheeks heating under his stare and scuttled back a few steps.

“Uhm, I hope this all works out until you’re able to find new parts, you guys! I could get started on a new custom permanent case too, so beedee doesn’t lose his usual flair.” BD-1 whistled in approval. “Shouldn’t take me more than a few days, maybe 5 at most, if you’re interested.”

Cal nodded, his intense gaze not faltering. “I think that’d be perfect. How much for today’s work?”

“Oh no, consider it as a repayment for that stim and for the opportunity to work on a droid again. Honestly, I had forgotten how much more interesting it is than working on the prospectors’ tools. As for the pickup, if I’m not here when you come back to get it, that means I’ve gone out to trade for parts. I’ll leave the finished casing in this drawer here,” you pointed to the right one, “and you seem to know how to get past the locks. Just close it back up when you leave!”

He laughed at the remark and thanked you for your work on BD-1. The droid gave you a sharp farewell whistle despite its clear disappointment at having to leave already. He climbed onto Cal’s back as the man moved toward your shop’s door.

“Hey,” you called, “if you come around this corner of the galaxy again after picking up beedee’s casing, don’t hesitate to swing by! It’s always nice seeing someone new.”

He turned on his feet, walking backwards for a few steps. “I have a feeling we’ll see each other again, don’t worry.” He winked at you, leaving you at a loss for words, and turned back to walk through the door.

After you calmed your elevated heartbeat, you locked up after him, deciding the two unexpected guests were enough for one night. You leaned back against the door and sighed. Maybe you should’ve accepted the money. Cal seemed like a nice guy, but Koboh was getting harder every day. Habo was still on your mind, but you’d settle for anything other than this damn planet. Kriff, you’d even be willing to join a crew of wandering space pirates if that meant you actually got to do something other than retrieve and fix the same old tools over and over again. Maybe one day luck would favor you, you thought, or maybe it just wasn’t meant to be.

-- 9 days later ---

The walk back from trading was always exhausting. The prospectors that held the best materials were currently residing on a high cliff that hid a cave’s opening. Getting up there was arduous, but if you left early enough it was manageable despite the climbing you had to do. By the time you made the trek back, however, there was no escaping the sun’s rays, and the only thing keeping your hands from the burning rocks as you scaled down the cliff was an almost ruined pair of leather gloves. They wouldn’t last another climb, you thought, and neither would your boots.

You’d have to find something to barter with the one villager who made most of the prospectors’ equipment. You didn’t even have money for food this week, but you’d make do, like you always did. Maybe you’d go back to the cantina tonight to offer maintenance on Greez’s bartender droid. His cantina was apparently bringing in more customers this week, so maybe you could find some other work there too.

You were also looking forward to hearing more of the village gossip. You’d heard rumors of a Jedi taking down raiders all over the region when you’d gone for a drink the night before but given that the source of that information was Turgle, you were far from convinced. A Jedi would be hunted down in a minute by the Empire, especially if they used their famed weapon and left witnesses. The fisherman you sometimes saw hanging around the streams, Skoova, had however confirmed that there was indeed a newcomer hunting down raiders for sport.

He hadn’t been very talkative, only describing him as a short-haired man of average height that fought in a poncho. You didn’t know how you felt about someone wearing a poncho on a desert planet, though you did find humor at the idea of the raiders getting their ass kicked by some new guy in a raincoat. Either way, if there was a chance that this not-a-Jedi-even-though-Turgle-says-he-is guy had arrived here by ship, you wanted to find out more no matter his unusual taste in clothing.

You entered your workshop after the long walk back from the prospectors, bracing for the intolerable heat of your metal cage. You stored what little you’d brought back in its rightful place and dragged your feet to your worktable, ready to start working on another tool a prospector had given you to fix. You remembered distantly that Cal still hadn’t swung by to pick up BD-1’s new case.

You peeked inside the drawer and found it empty of the custom case. There were a few credits in there, thankfully enough to cover the material you’d used for the case, plus a couple more. Despite the much-needed money, you couldn’t help but feel disappointed. Of course, the one day you left your workshop had to be the one when he decided to come here. You sighed and pushed the drawer away, rubbing your eyes with your palms, hoping (and doubting) that he would visit again. You didn’t even know what region of Koboh he was from, you didn’t recognize his accent at all.

A glimpse of white caught your eye before the drawer shut completely. You reached towards the unknown object and found a folded note that you were sure hadn’t been in therebefore you left. You opened it and didn’t immediately recognize the handwriting.

-

Thank you for the case, BD-1 is practically begging for a couple more designs (to match my ‘rizz’ - I have no idea what that means. He convinced me to wear an old grey poncho I had just so we matched and I fear giving in to the different colored cases will be the start of a slippery slope, but how could I say no to the little guy?)

I’ve gone off-track – What I mean to tell you is that if you still want to leave Koboh, there will be a ship (it’s mine) at the landing pad until 1500 tomorrow. Bring what you need, but I have all the essentials on board. Food and water I mean, and maybe I have a spare toothbrush somewhere too?

Anyway. We’ll figure it out.

I can drop you off somewhere if you want, but I wouldn’t mind a mechanic on board if you’re interested. Can’t guarantee regular hours or absolute safety but hey, still more interesting than metal detectors, right?

This might be my last visit to Koboh in a while.

P.S.: BD-1 wants you to know you’re the only one allowed to fix his leg, and that he ‘requires you on board’. His words, not mine. He shot an electric dart at the last person who tried to repair it (me).

Cal

-

You couldn’t help but let out a loud celebratory shout as you read. He had a ship, and you were finally getting out of here! No more prospectors whining at the time it took to fix their tools, no bedlam raiders trying to kick through your door in the middle of the night, no need to refill your water supply from the well that stood well over a mile away.

You’d happily make BD-1 a thousand little metal outfits to match Cal’s ponchos if he wanted-

Your mind screeched to a stop. Hadn't that been the outfit Skoova mentioned?

You remembered what Turgle said about the second newcomer, the one he had called a Jedi. You didn’t remember ever reading about that order using guns, but… Cal had been carrying another weapon. The metal handle, you now realized, that was hanging at his side.

Oh kriff.

Had the idea while building the BD-1 Lego set. I meant for this to be just a little 1k meet-cute oneshot, Of course, me being me, i wrote 5k. Edited it a little, and it's as short as I can tolerate lmao

My first time posting for Star Wars! Still not over Survivor despite having played it more than 100 hour in the first two weeks i got it, and having done reruns since. The double-bladed stance has me in a chokehold.

Tell me what you think, and check out my masterlist!

#Cal kestis x reader #cal kestis #cal kestis x you #jedi survivor #jedi fallen order #jedi video games #star wars jedi #star wars #fanfic #star wars fanfiction #star wars fanfic

[buckysdoll-op81]

I actually love him x

#cal kestis x reader #cal kestis #star wars #jedi survivor #jedi fallen order

[campingwiththecharmings]

*These weren’t necessarily written and/or posted in October, but that’s when I read them 😊

🔥 - explicit/mature content

Star Wars

Sunk (Poe Dameron x Reader) - @reallyrallyauthor

🔥An Unorthodox Method (Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @the-little-ewok

🔥Kinktober Day 1 (Love Bites) (Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @eyelessfaces

🔥Kinktober Day 4 (Sex Pollen) (Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @eyelessfaces

🔥Kinktober Day 7 (Soft and Slow) (Cal Kestis x Reader) - @flightlessangelwings

🔥Kinktober Day 10 (Stripping) (Stripper!Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @youvebeenlivingfictional

I just called to say I love you (Poe Dameron x Reader) - @nowritingonthewall

Adore you (Poe Dameron x Solo!Reader) - @dailyreverie

🔥Kinktober Day 25 (Breeding) (Cowboy!Din Djarin x Cowgirl!Reader) (Part of the Gardens of Babylon Universe) - @spacecowboyhotch

Moon Knight

🔥Over the Counter (DBF!Steven Grant x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

Vivid (Marc Spector x Reader) - @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

🔥Shades of the Moon (Virgin!Steven Grant x F!Reader) - @missdictatorme

Boundless (Witch Hunter!Marc x Witch!Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch

🔥Price You Gotta Pay (Steven Grant x F!Reader) - @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

🔥The Sweetest Sound (Mafia!Jake Lockley x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

🔥The Sweetest Taste (Mafia!Jake Lockley x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

🔥Kinktober Day 10 (formal wear) (Steven Grant x Reader) - @eyelessfaces

🔥Kinktober Day 6 (Phone Sex) (Jake Lockley x F!Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch

🔥Kinktober Day 12 (Formal Wear) (Steven Grant x F!Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch

🔥What a Show (Mafia!Jake Lockley x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

🔥La Petite Mort (Ghost!Steven Grant x F!Reader) - @hon3yboy

🔥Pumpkin Porno (OnlyFans!Steven Grant) - @ominoose

In the morning light (Marc Spector x Reader) - @dailyreverie

🔥Nature Boy (Werewolf!Marc Spector x F!Reader) - @hon3yboy

🔥Sleeping Dogs (Werewolf!Marc Spector x F!Reader) (Part of the Dancing with Wolves Series) - @hon3yboy

🔥What A Wicked Thing To Do (Werewolf!Marc Spector x F!Reader) (Part of the Dancing with Wolves Series) - @hon3yboy

🔥Kinktober Day 23 (Begging) (Marc Spector x F!Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch

Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse

🔥Couch Sex with Miguel (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @romanarose

🔥Kinktober Day 7 (& 8): Soft & Slow (Cockwarming) (College!Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch

🔥soft s3x and grey sweats (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @wyvernest

Ex Machina

🔥Peak-A-Boo (Ghostface!Nathan Bateman x F!Reader) - @hon3yboy

🔥Perfect Little Fuck Toy (Nathan Bateman x F!Reader) - @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

Sucker Punch

🔥Product Demonstration (Club!Blue Jones x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

🔥Monster Mash (Rockstar!Blue Jones x F!Reader) - @hon3yboy

Triple Frontier

Under cotton and calicoes (Santiago Garcia x Reader) - @dailyreverie

Make this feel like home (Santiago Garcia x Reader) - @dailyreverie

🔥Kinktober Day 30 (Cunnilingus) (Santiago Garcia x F!Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch

🔥Just A Little Push (Will Miller x F!Reader) - @missdictatorme

Scenes From a Marriage

🔥Kinktober Day 2 (bath/shower) (Jonathan Levy x F!Reader) - @eyelessfaces

🔥Kinktober Day 15 (Against a Wall & Voice Kink) (Jonathan Levy x Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch

The Two Faces of January

🔥Kinktober Day 7 (Slow and Soft) (Rydal Keener x F!Reader) - @eyelessfaces

🔥body talk (Rydal Keener x F!Reader) (part of the Oxford Comma series) - @whatthefishh

Misc.

🔥Just A Scratch (Jack Mohave x F!Reader) - @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

🔥Take Care (Anselm Vogelweide x F!Reader) - @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

🔥Service Fee (Llewyn Davis x F!Reader) - @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

🔥If You Wanna Be Wild (Javier Peña x Latina!sex worker!informant!Reader x Santiago Garcia) - @romanarose and @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction (i already recced this but there's more so 🙃)

Thank you to all the wonderful writers for sharing their stories with us 🥰❤️

*For more recs, please feel free to check out my fic rec tag.

**If you’d like to have your fic removed from the list, I completely understand, just let me know

#poe dameron x reader #din djarin x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #marc spector x reader #santiago garcia x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #jonathan levy x reader #nathan bateman x reader #rydal keener x reader #jack mohave x reader #anselm vogelweide x reader #llewyn davis x reader #javier pena x reader #will miller x reader #blue jones x reader #cal kestis x reader #fic rec #damn i read a lot in october

[geekywritings]

“Come back to bed.”

Today, I present to you my interpretation of the lovely anonymous ask I received:

“Reader was super touch starved before they started dating and Cal is super touchy, and she loves it but also has trouble getting used it. But her favorite thing is when he rubs her back (comfort or just to be close) and it just becomes a thing for them??"

Again, lots of fluff, so enjoy!

___________

Touch… Such a simple thing. A sign of trust, a proof of friendship and a language of love all at the same time.

You’ve always had a strange relationship with the concept. On one hand, you feared it, on the other, you desired nothing more than to experience its effects. Thinking about it, your paradox connection to touch probably stemmed from your upbringing. Your mother had worked in one of the adult entertainment establishments of Nar Shadaa, with you growing up in this strange world of opposites.

Poor workers, rich clients. Big expectations, and crushed dreams. Honest touch and paid-for love. It all mixed together in this place, and you had watched it all from the kitchens where you were being kept while your mother served drinks to the various males that frequented the “The Pearl” every night.

Hugs were rare, as your mother wasn’t the type for it. She showed her affection in different ways, first and foremost by sending you away when you were old enough, thus saving you from a future in the establishment.

You attended a pilot academy and graduated among the top of your class. By that time, the Republic had fallen and the Empire was recruiting capable pilots left and right. Needless to say, the strict regime didn’t exactly encourage comradery and touch either.

And so you grew more and more hungry for it, while never quite knowing why.

You also hated working for the Empire. Payment was bad, the treatment of people horrendous and everything about it simply felt wrong.

It was by pure accident that you crossed paths with the rebels when one of them tried to pay you good credits to smuggle someone off-planet along with your booked cargo. You had agreed, mostly for the credits, to be honest, but eventually, helping people became a mission. A true purpose. Something fulfilling.

You also came to love one rebel in particular: Cal Kestis. You had run several missions for and with him until he eventually asked you to join his crew permanently. They could always use a good pilot, he argued. A good friend of his, Greeze, used to be the Captain of the impressive ship he used to get around, but the Latero had retired or was at least taking an extensive break.

And so your story with Cal had begun, quickly growing from allies to friends and eventually romantic partners. It had all happened so fast and your head still reeled from how the redhead had managed to worm his way into your heart. Never had you met anyone displaying such kindness, gentleness, patience and respect. It was impossible not to fall in love with him.

He taught you how to fight as well, organizing a metal staff for you after you turned out to be a rather poor shot. You two sparred regularly, with the Jedi putting his combat training into good use to teach you new tricks.

The crew around you changed constantly. Some left, some died, some joined you only for a specific job. But Cal, BD-1 and you were a constant on the Mantis. They were your family and the ship your home.

Often, you would sit awake long into the night, staring out into the galaxy passing you by and thinking about what your life would have been like if your mother hadn’t saved up every credit to send you away.

“Didn’t you say you’d join me in 10 minutes?”

You turned and found Cal leaning against the doorway leading to the cockpit. His hair was tousled and his eyes sleepy, but a small smile was playing on his lips, as he crossed his arms in front of his bare chest.

“That was three hours ago, love.”, he added when you sent him a confused look.

“Oh…”, was all you could say, not having realized how much time had passed. Getting lost in memories did that to you.

Stifling a yawn, Cal moved to drop into the Co-pilot seat, green eyes searching yours.

“Can’t sleep again?” His voice was full of sympathy as he reached out a hand to rest on your knee.

There it was again: touch.

Cal always reached for you. Whether it was for a hug or a kiss, to hold your hand, to just feel you near or to make sweet love with you. Every touch from his was special and you did your best to reciprocate. You still remembered the look of pure joy the first time you initiated a hug or gave him a kiss or reached for his hand on your own. It helped you greatly to open yourself to the kind of love language you had yearned for, yet still needed to grasp fully.

You stared at his hand on your knee and slowly placed yours on top of his.

“I was thinking about my mother… and everything she did to give me a good life.”

Cal nodded in understanding, but didn’t say anything, allowing you to unload your thoughts. He knew your past and had even volunteered to help your mom, but she had disappeared from “The Pearl” after your graduation with no sign of her to be found.

“She saved you. That’s love.”, he eventually spoke and you smiled.

“I wish I could have shown her more that I loved her.”, you sighed. You regretted that you hadn’t hugged her more on your own accord.

“I am sure that she knew.”, Cal assured you, ever the supportive voice for your conscience.

You smiled at him and nodded, before slipping from the pilot’s chair into his lap, arms sneaking around him. “I love you, Cal… And I want to show you every day.”, you muttered into his neck, as his arms came to rest around you.

“You do show me every day, Starlight.”, he whispered back, holding you close. “And I am so very grateful for it, because I love you as well. To the end of the Galaxy and back.”

For a while you just sat in silence, enjoying the proximity, Cal's hand drawing small circles on your lower back. It was your favourite, really, the gesture always helping you relax.

“Now come back to bed, love.”, the Jedi whispered eventually and you nodded, allowing him to carry you back into your room, where you both gave into desire.

Touch… Such a simple thing. A sign of trust, a proof of friendship and a language of love all at the same time.

You’ve always had a strange relationship with the concept. But you were ready to open your heart to it fully, as long as Cal was with you.

#cal kestis #cal kestis x yn #cal kestis x you #cal kestis x reader #jedi survivor

[forever-rogue]

Soon

AN | Here is one of the many ideas that I’ve had for Cal! Or - Cal Kestis visits you and holds the promise of a future together…finally 🥺 This contains no major spoilers for Survivor!

Warnings | None

Pairing | Cal Kestis x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 3k

Masterlist | SW Characters, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You knew it was him from the moment you noticed the figure in the distance coming closer. There was a trademark swagger to his walk and his lithe silhouette gave him away every time. No matter how much you tried to suppress the excitement in your chest, it never seemed to work. Not when it came to him.

"Hello Cal Kestis," he stopped right in front of you, a roguish smile on his face. His hair was longer now, and he hadn't shaved in a bit and…he was sporting a black eye, a busted lip, and cuts all over his face. A sigh escaped your lips softly, "Cal."

"It's okay," he insisted softly, his hand instinctively went to your face as he brushed his knuckles across your cheek, "you should see the other guy."

"Cal."

"I know," he knew. Knew that nothing else but him mattered to you, "its nothing."

"You're going to give your daughter nightmares if she sees you like this," you leaned into his touch, "let me take care of you."

"I didn't come here for that," he whispered softly, a sheepish expression on his face. Despite everything he went through, he always managed to keep his boyish charm.

"I know," you promised, "but I also happen to be fond of you. Come on - she's still at daycare."

You reached for his hand and pulled him into the small house, mind already buzzing with the multitude of questions you had for him. It had been a while since you'd last seen him. Over a year.

You set him down on the edge of the tub in the 'fresher as you glanced through medical supplies you had. You'd kept way more on hand since you'd met him a few years ago. They came in handy.

"Do I want to know what happened?" You gently dabbed at his lip, wiping away the dried blood before tending to the scratches on his cheek. 

"Probably not," he admitted softly, earning a quick nod from you. You grabbed some bacta gel and spread it around the dark bruising around his eye, "the last job didn't go so well."

You paused at the mention of his job. You knew what he did, more or less, but he never really went into details. For your sake and his. 

"I'm glad you're okay," you looked up at him with wide eyes and he nodded softly, "please be careful."

"I am…" he caught your eye for a moment, watching as you raised your brows at him, "I will be."

"Promise me, Cal Kestis," you kneeled down so you were almost eye to eye with him, having to look up slightly, "please."

"I swear,” and he meant it. For himself, for you, and the daughter you shared. 

You looked at him for a long moment. He'd become more hardened since you'd met him. But the boy you'd fallen in love with was still underneath it all. He didn't even know you loved him - at least you didn’t think he did. And you were almost positive that he didn’t feel that way about you. 

You’d met by chance, became friends, and after a drunken one-night hookup ending up sharing a daughter. But that didn’t mean you didn’t love him; you did and you just wanted him safe and sound. 

“Okay,” you leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek before standing back up. He followed suit and you noticed the flush of pink on his face. You tried to ignore the butterflies as you trailed your fingers along his scruffy jaw, “this is new.”

“You hate it,” he teased, smiling at you in the crooked way that you adored.

“I like it actually,” you smirked at him, “suits you. Now c’mon, let’s grab some lunch and then we can get Tansy. And you can tell me all about your adventures.”

“Sounds good,” he agreed softly, “missed you both.”

Your heart skipped a few beats before you made a small sound in response. He was really making this whole only friends thing way too hard.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Tell me then,” you watched your favorite ginger jedi from across the table, relaxed at being in his presence again. You were sure that he could feel it, “what has been keeping you so occupied lately?”

“I…” he paused for a moment, looking around surreptitiously before leaning closer to you. You mirrored his action and motioned for him to go on, “I know I should have been back sooner.”

“Cal…”

“It’s not fair to Tansy for me to be gone so long,” he sighed lightly and you gave his hand a small squeeze, “or you-”

“Well, we didn’t exactly plan on…you know. Having a kid,” it definitely hadn’t been part of any plan you’d ever had. But still, he handled it beautifully and did his best to take care of both of you in his own way. After your daughter had been born, you’d been tempted to ask him to stay, to try and be a proper family, but you knew that wasn’t in his cards. You’d always known that - there was no way you’d keep Cal Kestis from fulfilling his destiny.

“No,” you might have been right, but he wouldn’t have changed a thing, “listen, I know this is going to sound crazy, and it probably is, but I think I…something’s happened.”

“Crazy? From you, jedi?” you whispered the last part, and brought a smile to his face, “tell me.”

“I went to Koboh to look for Greez for help with the Mantis after…a job on Coruscant that went wrong,” your heart constricted at the mere thought of something happening to him, “one thing led to another but basically we found out about this planet called Tanalorr.”

“Tanalorr. I’ve never heard of that…”

“Almost no one has,” his eyes practically glittered with excitement, “a jedi master found it hundreds of years ago and tried to…hide it basically. Keep it safe and untouched. If we find it, and assuming all of it’s true, it could be a place untouched by the Empire, and raiders, and anyone else. It could be a new home…we could be safe there.”

Your brow furrowed as you tried to process everything that he was saying. It all sounded so good and wonderful and the idea that there was a safe place somewhere in the galaxy made your heart yearn for the future. A future you could maybe share with Cal and your daughter as a family. 

“Cal,” you sighed softly and noticed the way his face fell, “that sounds…amazing - truly. I know the jedi were - are - capable of amazing things. But this…it sounds like a tale told to keep children entertained.”

“It’s real,” he insisted, “I know it is. I’ve seen proof. I know it’s out there..I-I just have to find it.  Then we could-”

“Wait, Cal, stop for a moment,” your face was a mask of worry despite your ebay efforts to keep it neutral, “you’re not seriously thinking about this, are you? This is crazy-”

“It’s a risk that could be worth everything,” he took your hand in both of his hands and held onto it tightly, “we wouldn’t have to worry about anything. We’d be safe.”

“If you don’t die trying to get there,” you whispered, “or what if you get there and it’s something completely different? I don’t…I can’t lose you, Cal.”

“There’s risk involved with everything - even you being here,” he closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, “but it’s a risk I have to take. I promise-”

“She’s like you,” you blurted out and caused Cal’s eyes to snap open and watch you closely. You pulled your hand away and swallowed the lump that had welled up in your throat, “Tansy…I think she’s like you. Sensitive.”

Oh. Oh. He knew, he’d always know that there was a high likelihood that his daughter would end up like him. Force sensitive. Back before the end of the Order, she would have likely already have been on her way to Jedi Temple on Coruscant. But now all it did was serve to put a giant target on her. A rush of pride and excitement flowed through him - along with a bundle of nerves settling into his stomach. 

“How do you…know?”

“I’ve noticed her doing some things that a normal kid definitely couldn’t do,” you whispered, “you’ll have to tell me for me but…I think I’m right. Cal…this is really exciting but-”

“I’m scared,” he finished for you and you nodded lightly, “I will never do anything to put either of you in danger. I’ll keep you, both of you safe. I promise.”

“But how can I keep you safe?” your voice cracked slightly as you looked at him with concern. His expression was soft as you turned your head and wiped away the tears that had rolled down your cheeks, “Cal, I l-”

“Daddy!” 

Tansy tore away from her babysitter, breaking into as much of a run as was possible for her little legs. You shook your head fondly before giving an apologetic expression to the twi'lek that cared for her. 

"Tan Tan!" Cal dropped to a crouch so he could scoop her into his arms, embracing her tightly. The resemblance between the two of them was uncanny; she'd inherited his red hair and green eyes and already had his sense of adventure. The two of them were nothing but trouble together already, "I've missed you so much."

"Missed you too," despite the fact that he wasn't around all the time - he tried as best as he could to be there for her - you were happy that they shared such a close bond. She adored him as he did her, "are you staying?"

"Yes," he promised, peppering her chubby cheeks with kisses, "if that's okay with Mommy."

You caught for a moment, trying to hide the exasperated look on your face. Of course you wanted him to stay, but you also weren't finished with your previous conversation, "yes, of course. You're always welcome, Cal."

"Yay," Tansy wrapped her little arms around his neck and clung onto him like a koala, "I can show you my new toys!"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"I think she's finally asleep," Cal quietly padded out of Tansy's room and made his way back over to you. You were in the living room, nursing a mug of tea and absentmindedly reading a holobook. He sat down next to you, tense for a moment as he anticipated your reaction, "she's got so much energy."

"She takes after you in so many ways," you put the book and turned to him with a soft smile. Cal mirrored it before, reaching over and gently tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. He’d been with you for a couple of weeks now, and you yearned for him to stay and make this your everyday reality. It would have been so easy…

"What are you thinking about?" His voice was barely above a whisper. One of the things you loved - and sometimes hated - about him was that he'd always been able to read you so easily. 

"I wish you were here more often," you hated how small and pathetic your voice sounded as you shrugged your shoulders lightly, "not for my sake but hers. But it'd be nice knowing you are safe too."

The jedi paused for a long moment, the air thick with so many unsaid things. He allowed himself to catch a glimpse of your expression before sitting back and exhaling softly, "I love you, you know."

"Cal, you don't just have to say-"

"I'm not," he insisted firmly and your eyes widened in surprise, "you know I'd never lie to you or say anything I didn't mean. And I'm not just saying it because of Tansy. I mean it - I've always meant it."

"Oh. Oh," maker. Cal just said what you had wanted to say for so long but couldn't bring yourself to admit. Which meant he felt the same. He felt the same way. But there was still a put in your stomach, "why did you leave?"

He paused, his lips pulling into a thin line, "you knew I couldn't stay. Especially after you got pregnant. It wasn't safe for me to be here all the time. I just wanted you both safe."

"I know," and you had. Cal did everything with purpose…he wasn't the kind of man to anything without some consideration, "I know. But I still wish you were here more. And I feel so selfish for even thinking that."

"It's not selfish," he whispered, brushing his knuckles across your cheek, "I wish you were with me too. I think about every day, you know."

You managed a small, teary eyed little smile. He reached into the collar of his shirt and pulled out the chain that was nestled safely against his chest. A small gasp escaped your lips when you realized it was your necklace. The very same one you'd given him the first time he'd left you a few months after the two of you had met. You'd found out you were pregnant a few weeks later.

"You still have it," you traced your finger along the soft golden chain, causing his heart to skip a few beats from your tender touch, "after all this time."

"I've never taken it off," he put his hand on top of yours and lightly squeezed it, "sometimes I feel like this is the only thing that's kept me alive."

"I love you," your declaration was so quiet that Cal almost wasn't sure if he'd heard you correctly. Judging from the nervous look on your face, he was pretty sure you'd said that. You bit the inside of your cheek for a moment, "I just wanted you to know too."

"C'mere," his hands found your face and you had to work to keep a wistful sigh from escaping. You leaned in and before you could even think about it, he was kissing you. Softly and gently, but with everything he had to give. You didn't pull away from him until you were dizzied and breathless. He pressed his forehead against yours, smiling softly, "one day, I'll get to do this every day."

"Every day?"

"Yes," it was a promise, resolute and firm, "I just need a little more time. I want to follow this lead and find Tanalorr."

"Cal-"

"I'll be careful," the reassurance didn't ease your worry, "if it's safe and actually is what it'd supposed to be, I'll come for both of you and we can make a new home."

"And if it's not?"

"I'll find us somewhere safe," he trailed his fingers softly along your jaw, "I promise."

"Okay," you didn't want to agree but you also knew there was no way to talk Cal out of something when he was set in his ways. You fisted the front of his shirt in your hand and blink away the fresh tears, "promise me one more thing?"

"Anything," he brushed your tears away and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"Come back to us," his eyes softened as you silently pleaded for him, the force, the universe or whatever was out there, go make it come true, "please come back to us safely. I can't…I don't want anything to happen to you."

"I'll always come back to you," in your heart you knew he meant it, "and Tansy. I just need a little bit of time."

"Okay," you exhaled shakily, "okay. When were you thinking about leaving?"

"Now - tonight," that was enough to crush your spirit, "the sooner I'm gone, the sooner I'm back. And I…I think it might be easier if I'm gone tonight rather than leaving when she's awake."

"I hate that you're right," you huffed with laughter, but there was no amusement behind the sound, "come back soon?"

"As soon as I can," he wrapped you up in a tight hug, pulling as tightly against his chest as possible. You hugged him back just as fiercely, wishing you'd never have to let him go. He kissed the side of your head as you buried your face in his chest, "soon."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"This is always the worst part," you stood on your doorstep in the middle of the night, bidding your goodbyes to Cal. Again. At least this time you knew it wouldn't be too long, "watching you go."

"Yeah," he cast a forlorn look towards the window of his daughter's room. His heart ached already, "its hard for me too. But this is the last time we'll have to be apart."

"Swear on it, Cal Kestis," you held out your pinkie and he couldn't help the laugh that reached your ears. He hooked his pinkie around yours and squeezed lightly, "or I'll find you and make you regret it."

"Swear," he brought your hand to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to your palm, "I wouldn't put anything past you."

"Good," your heart fluttered at his kiss and you leaned in and pressed another to his lips, "see you soon."

"Soon," he agreed, kissing you a few more times, "I love you."

"I love you, Cal Kestis," you touched his cheek before whispering, "may the force be with you."

"And with you," he took one last look at you before taking a step back, "oh - you were right, you know. About Tansy."

"Oh," you looked at him with a wondrous expression, "oh?"

"We'll talk about it next time," he offered you a cheeky wink as you beamed at him, "just be happy with the knowledge that you were right."

"Like always," you held up a hand in a small, sad little wave, "goodbye, Cal."

"Not goodbye - see you soon, sweetheart."

#cal kestis #cal kestis x you #cal kestis x reader #cal kestis x fem!reader #cal kestis imagine #cal kestis one shot #cameron monaghan #jedi: fallen order #jedi: survivor #star wars

[grievedeeply]

Finally someone with Jedi survivor requests open!! 🖤

Would you be open to doing some Cal Kestis NSFW head cannons? Everyone writes him as a bit of a sub after Fallen Order but Survivor Cal gives me more dom vibes. Like, he is more cocky and sure of himself. I feel like that translates to the bedroom

Interested to see your thoughts! ❤️

this is my first request for cal on this blog and i haven't written for him in like 2 years so i hope this is good 😓 thank you for the request!! no jedi survivor spoilers btw <3 this is just pure smut lol

afab!reader (no pronouns used) | MINORS DNI!! | join my taglist!!

tags: switch!cal, switch!reader, orgasm denial, cockwarming, piv, oral (reader & cal receiving), praise kink, rough sex, inappropriate use of the force, public sex/risky sex, mutual masturbation

cal kestis nsfw headcanons

i don't think he's the most experienced at the beginning of your relationship but i do think he's an incredibly fast learner as well as a good listener

he can read your body well, as well as your expressions and even your breathing. he can just tell when something feels good

cal is versatile. incredibly so, actually. he caters to your needs most of the time and hardly ever focuses on his own. he wants to see and hear your pleasure before he ever gets to his own

he's soooo sweet and so giving during sex. it's always an intimate act and a display of love in his eyes even if it's a quickie (which he doesn't particularly enjoy, only because he can't spend hours getting his hands on you)

really big on foreplay and teasing when he's feeling more dominant. i can see him into orgasm denial and reveling in the look in your eyes when you're so close to your orgasm.. it drives him up the wall and makes him so hard

praises you for doing so well for him. anything that comes into his mind he'll say. his voice as soft as ever, whispering into your ear. he'll praise your moans, how well you're taking him— it doesn't matter— he'll find a way

the feeling of his cock slipping into you is such a magnificent one, a feeling cal doesn't ever think he'll get tired of. he'll whimper and moan into your neck whenever he bottoms out, his hands gripping at the bedsheets or your chest

depending on his mood, he can be super rough or really gentle. whenever he's had a particularly bad or rough day he just wants to fuck the shit out of you. the door opens and his lips are immediately attached to you, asking you if you're okay with sex before he takes off your clothes

even if he's feeling more dominant, he can be so gentle, too. if he sees you're feeling down and need him to take care of you, he'll jump into action. his fingers rubbing at your clit, driving you crazy even through all of the layers of clothing you wore

definitely the type of guy to prepare you a bath afterwards, too. he knows how important aftercare is no matter how gentle he might've been with you. it's just as intimate as the sex if not more so

he can be really vocal.. especially if you're giving him head. he just loooves thrusting into your mouth watching as you gag on his cock..... keeps eye contact the entire time and tugs on your hair to get you to look back at him if you turn away for too long

sometimes he gets sooo into it that tears will form in your eyes. he can't bring himself to slow down, though. your tongue hits all of the most sensitive spots, his head thrown back as he releases into your mouth

apologizes after it all calms down. asks if he's being too rough, and tells you to tap on his thighs if he's ever going too hard on you or if it's too much

he's sooo kind in every situation and that moves over into the bedroom as well

BUT! he's also really good at eating you out. his tongue is so masterful, and that isn't an understatement. i mentioned before at how he's really good at reading you, and this especially comes into play in these moments

he'll listen for the hitches in your breath, feel your hands pulling at his hair with each movement of his mouth against your clit and he knows how to drive you to orgasm just by observation alone

i don't think cal would think of using the force in this way before you came along. the thought comes to him at a completely random moment, too— but he'll suggest it to you and you're almost a little shocked

but when you try it out.. it's incredible. he doesn't have to hold your hands down above your head as he thrusts into you, instead, his hands far away from you, held behind his back. you can feel the force moving across your body, your chest, your stomach, your face— and you wonder if he can feel it based off of the look on his face

submissive cal is still pretty common. he enjoys being taken care of especially on his off days. it feels good to know you're more than willing to take on a more dominant role in the relationship too, and he LOVES it

he sees the look in your eyes. hungry, desperate. it makes him yearn for you in a way he hasn't before, seeing you like this. especially if this is your first time being dominant? ooooh it makes him so hard to see you with this mindset

he cannot insult or degrade you. he doesn't find it attractive and it'll make him feel so bad if he ever says something in that sense to you, even if you're into it. he'll try mostly anything else, though

cockwarming. he loves it. it makes him feel close to you. it doesn't matter if you've even had sex or not beforehand, but it's something he really enjoys to do. he loves feeling you around him.. your walls clenching with every move he makes

public sex. the only thing keeping everyone else from knowing his cock is buried into your cunt is the outfit you're wearing. he looooves the riskiness of it all even if he knows he shouldn't

.. sex on the mantis while greez, cere and merrin are in the other room. he's pounding into you from behind, his hand covering your mouth while the other fingers your clit, "come on, be quiet for me, okay? you're doing so good for me, sweetheart.."

you come stumbling out of the back, your face flushed and hair completely messed up. everyone knows what happened, and cal takes a strange sense of pride in it.. but he won't deny the red on his cheeks

mutual masturbation is sooo hot to him, especially if he walks in on accident while you're touching yourself— cockily asks you if you want his help

he'll watch you so intently, too.. until he gets too hard he can't stand it. he'll palm himself through his pants until he has to pull his cock out, rubbing his hand up and down his length as he watches you. the look in your eyes as you watch him, too..

when you're not around he could get too desperate and fuck a pillow and imagine it's you if he has to. it sounds so pathetic to him at first but he can only jerk himself off so many times and have it be satisfactory

the reunion sex, though? it's practically magic. nothing will everrr feel as good as you do

the sound of his balls slapping against your ass with each of his quick thrusts is sooo sexy to him, especially when it's accompanied by your lewd moans of his name

he seems really vanilla at first glance but he's willing to do anything to make you feel good no matter how out of left field it might be. he only has a few big no's and that's it

if you ever say his dick is big or it's too much to fit he will actually cum on the spot. the idea is so hot to him— especially how you say it. so desperate and needy, it drives him mad

cal.. he's so kind. so caring and so generous with his love, but while you're having sex it's never just sex to him. it's a way of displaying his love for you. that's how he thinks of all of your intimate moments. he never has sex just to have it

once again. aftercare!!! so important for him and it helps him unwind from it all. but don't be surprised if he wants to go at it again after everything you've already done

cal knows he is sexy. that's all

#star wars x reader #cal kestis x reader #cal kestis #star wars headcanons #star wars x reader headcanons #star wars x reader imagines #reader x cal kestis #cal kestis smut #cal kestis x reader smut #star wars smut

[psychosith]

Echo

cal kestis x reader

summary: despite being close for years, you and cal go your separate ways after a particularly harsh argument. cal doesn’t see or hear of you for a long time, but stumbles across an old jacket of yours that reveals something to him

warnings: angsttttt, yelling/arguing, injuries, death, perhaps ooc!mean cal

a/n: i’m so sorry to the reqs sitting in my drafts ive had no motivation😭 specifically to the person who requested modern!anakin @ a halloween party it’s a little late for that now i feel like…. but anyways y’all might not know this but i’m obsessed w our boy cal and UGH. this prompt from @fallen-vic just struck me right and i had to get writing right away

the last four months had been a blur.

one second you were stripping an old star destroyer on bracca with cal, and the next he was fighting an imperial inquisitor while you cowered away in the corner. then you had boarded a ship with a lanky woman and abrasive latero. they had taken you to a planet hidden from the empire, a place where you thought you and cal could live safely. you couldn’t have been more wrong.

cal returned from the temple on bogano that first day talking about restoring the jedi order and a holocron? from there, it was all downhill. back and forth between kashyyyk, zeffo, and dathomir, all the while cal was forced to face strong enemies that left him on the brink of death every day. and you were tasked with patching him up at the end of every mission.

too many times have you entered his rooms while he was preparing to leave again and begged him to stay. it was always the same answer- i’ll be back before you know it. he couldn’t know, though, the feelings you harbored for him. he couldn’t understand how it pained you physically to watch him leave and come back beaten and bruised. but you stayed, because you loved him, and because you believed he wanted you with him.

it was all too much for you today. it seemed insane; they were planning to infiltrate the fortress inquisitorius and retrieve the holocron. you had stopped on a small planet to stock up on supplies before the big mission, and you were in your usual position: pleading with cal.

“cal, please,” you begged, tears welling up in your eyes. “this is just- it’s too dangerous cal! i mean, an imperial fort, for fucks sake! cal, if you didn’t come back from this… i don’t know-“

he cut you off with a reassuring hand on your arm. “y/n, i’ll be alright. i’ll have cere with me, and i’m stronger than ever. trust me.”

“you say that every time, you know. and every time, without fail, you come back closer to death than i’ve ever seen you. cal, we’ve found you passed out in the mud on kashyyyk. we’ve found you slumped against a generator on zeffo with a blaster wound in your stomach. no one will be there to find you if things go wrong this time, cal.” you say numbly, vaguely aware that there’s nothing you can say to make him stay.

“you’re being dramatic.” he says plainly. “you have no reason to be worried. i always come back, y/n. this time will be no different. you need to calm down.”

you groan in frustration, at his naïveté. “no, cal! you don’t understand… how much it hurts to watch you go. and who knows where you would be without me to put your pieces back together.”

you hear him scoff and look down at your hands as tears finally fall down your cheeks. you can tell he’s stressed by the tension in his shoulders.

“without you? y/n, i don’t need you to do this.” his words hurt, but you try to tell yourself the mission is getting to his head, that he doesn’t mean what he’s saying.

“y/n,” he says, waving a hand in front of your face, “did you hear me? i. don’t. need. you. if you’re so worried about me, maybe you should just leave. then i wouldn’t be bothering you so much.” he stood up angrily and marched off.

was he being honest? did he really want you to leave? all these years you had told yourself that he needed you with him, but maybe you had been mistaken.

you didn’t give yourself time to think. cere and greez had both made it clear that your presence on the mantis was unnecessary, and now that cal had said the same you had to go. you only packed the bare essentials: a canister of water, a couple weeks of rations, and a thick jacket for cold nights. you left through the front entrance without a word to anyone. cal simply watched you go.

a year later - cal's pov

there was no use in trying to hide it, it had been a hard year for cal. a year made much harder by your absence. he had tried to tell himself that you leaving was your decision, that it wasn't his fault. but as he played the argument over in his mind he found himself regretting everything he'd said. cal had been nervous, scared even, of the upcoming mission in the fortress. he'd let trilla and the empire get in his head, and it had cost him everything.

even after he'd retrieved the holocron - and ultimately destroyed it - he never searched for you. he didn't know why. the urge had struck him many times, but he never knew where to begin looking or what he would say to get you back.

it hurt even now, as cal lay in his bunk on the mantis weeping silently to himself. the mantis was empty, the engine humming softly as it flew through hyperspace. all the lights were out and cal's pillow was damp with tears. he hesitantly rose from his bed, staggering to the navigation panel in a sleep-deprived stupor. his cheeks are stained and his hair is tousled as he falls back into the pilot's chair, and he plugs the coordinates to a forgotten outer rim planet into the navigation system.

cal was exhausted, hungry, and mentally drained, but he managed to make it back to his bunk before he passed out.

. . .

something in the cockpit beeped quite loudly, waking cal from his sleep and alerting him that they were nearing their destination. the royal blue color of nez peron was pleasing to the eye, but brought back painful memories for cal. this was where they had made their last supply run before heading toward the fortress. this was the last place he saw the love of his life.

landing the mantis was the easy part; finding you, not so much. cal started in the sparse cities, scanning cantinas and shops, asking about a y/n l/n at every apartment complex and inn. he began to lose hope as he neared the edge of the latest city. just then he remembered you talking absentmindedly as he worked on his lightsaber, saying how it was your dream to live in the forest and live off the lands. it sounded crazy at the time, but now it made sense.

with a newfound passion, cal began searching the forests and plains for you. each dead end made him want to find you more and more, but there were no signs of life anywhere he looked.

one day, he was scanning the ground for any human tracks when a piece of fabric caught his eye. it was dusty, black, and oddly familiar. there were pieces of the same fabric just a little further up the trail he was following. up ahead, cal could just make out the shape of your thick winter coat on the ground.

his steps picked up into a light jog as he neared the jacket. as he examined it closer, he saw a dark stain had dried down on the stomach, and when he bent over to pick it up he was flooded with a powerful force echo.

_______

you had misjudged how hard life in the wild would be. the coat you wore did almost nothing to keep you warm, the water you brought only lasted for a few days, and the rations you thought would last had gone bad within the month. you were cold and hungry, and had only a pairing knife to ward off any threats in the forest. this would be a crucial mistake.

it was a particularly cold day and you were resting against a tree when you heard the crunch of leaves and the distinct mechanical whirring of an electrostaff. raiders. well, just one this time. it was a difficult feat, but you managed to ward off the raider not without sustaining many injuries. you had garnered a deep wound in your thigh and a large gash in your shoulder, luckily most of your vital organs were intact.

you hardly had time to catch your breath before a large mammal had sprung up from a ditch and pinned you to the ground. you screamed and struggled for your knife. your wounds had impaired your fighting skills, and you didn’t last long before the predator had beaten you into the floor. it was so, so cold. you must have lost your jacket at some point. you supposed the animal had lost interest, as it wandered off back into the trees, leaving you in a pool of your own blood.

the sun set behind the trees and you were still laying there, unable to move, slowly succumbing to the cold embrace of death. you could form only one coherent thought in your adrenaline crazed mind, and thus it became your last word.

“cal”

_______

the memory was like a knife to the heart for cal. he was helpless as he watched you draw your last breath, only to utter his name before closing your eyes for the final time. it finally dawned on him.

you were dead.

cal fell to his knees beside your tattered coat, a broken cry escaping his lips. it was all his fault. if’s and should’ves ran circles around his mind, but he understood the depth of this. you were gone, stolen from this world far to soon. cal mourned. he sobbed into his hands for hours on end, cursing you for leaving, cursing cere and greez for letting you leave, and cursing himself for letting his love for you blind him. of course he needed you. he always would. but he couldn’t have you any more.

his mind was blurry as he frantically followed the path he was on, searching for your body. he tripped and stumbled down a leaf covered hill, where he saw you. you were exactly as you were in the force echo, but your cheeks were hollow and your skin was sickly green. you had been dead for a long time. cal ran to your body, crying your name. he hoisted you into his arms and wept into your dirty hair.

“i love you” he muttered softly, hoping that perhaps you could hear the words he was to cowardly to speak when you were alive.

a/n 2: BYE the ending is so rushed. sorry.

#cal kestis x reader #cal kestis #jedi survivor #jedi fallen order #star wars #star wars x reader #angst #hurt/no comfort #i'm sad #din djarin x reader #anakin skywalker x reader

[profound-imagination]

Masterlist!

Azriel Shadowsinger:

Dear Azriel - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

Free Falling - Part 2

Kissed By Dragonfire

Matching Wounds

Flightless

Memories (Cassian's POV)

Lucien Vanserra:

Meet Cute

Lessons (Modern Student AU!)

Matching Wounds

Unexpected

Eris Vanserra:

Finding Home - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7

This Isn't Goodbye

Pie

Rose Gardens - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

Loneliest

Romeo Save Me

Azriel x Eris Vanserra:

What We Do In The Shadows

Ruhn Danaan:

Never Again

Something Tells Me We're Not Done

Little Witch - Part 2

Tell Me Their Names - Part 2

Come Back, Be Here

Fenrys Moonbeam:

Broken Promises - Part 2

Four Years

A Whole New World

Before You Go

Xavier Thorpe:

Something That We're Not - Part 2

Opposites

Cal Kestis:

Lost & Found - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9

#acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #eris vanserra #eris x reader #eris x azriel #lucien vanserra x reader #lucien vanserra #ruhn x reader #ruhn danaan #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe #cal kestis x reader #cal kestis

[multi-fan-dom-madness]

the way i need enemies to lovers smut with cal where reader is a sith lord and gets hurt but cal being the good man that he is, takes her back to his place and things happen yk 😰

i love this so much and I hope it's alright that I changed the prompt a teensy bit. instead of being sith, reader is just a darkside-user more generally. also gender neutral. thank you so much for the request!

Balance (Cal Kestis x reader)

Summary: You encounter Cal Kestis a few too many times, and you can't explain the way that the Force seems to be conspiring to put you two together in a room.

Warnings: SMUT 18+ minors DNI; gn!reader; inappropriate use of the Force; reader is a darkside user and honestly doesn't know how fucked they are; semi-graphic injuries; porn with plot; toxic relationship lowkey; blowjob; mutual masturbation (sort of); penetrative sex; unprotected sex (pls be safe irl y'all); if I missed anything please let me know!

Word Count: 12,765 my hand slipped

The first time you encounter Cal Kestis, you nearly kill him.

You’d heard the rumors, of course, whispered with bright eyes and furtive expressions in shithole Outer Rim cantinas of a flame-headed being cutting down Inquisitors and Imperials. When you first overheard a snippet of the tall tale, you’d nearly choked on your cheap spotchka. Right, you remember thinking, a fiery figure opposing the Empire. Did they run out of good gossip today? 

Most rumors have at least a kernel of truth at their centers, and you figured it was the same with this one. And besides, you are indifferent to the Empire, at best; you’ve been avoiding their attention as much as you can, but you suspect that the thick cloak of the darkside you wear like a mantle has kept most of the Inquisitorius oblivious. They’re looking for Jedi, who cannot resist continuing to do good in a galaxy rotted to its core, and you stopped being a Jedi long before the Empire rose to power. They probably pay no mind to one lone figure who straddles the line of light and dark, temptation and virtue. 

But that doesn’t mean Jedi pay no mind to you. Most of them, you can avoid; you fight when necessary. Currently, you’re thinking a fight might just be necessary. You’re on some planet you’ve already forgotten the name of, densely populated and urban. You stand with one foot propped on the edge of a rooftop, neon lights glimmering on wet permacrete. Rain drizzles in a fine mist. You gaze placidly across the gap to the next building—to the flame-headed being. Without even needing to try, you feel his Force signature: he burns in the Force, even as he tries to hide it. His coppery hair ruffles in the slight breeze, stubble darkening his face. 

With a steadying breath, you tilt your head to one side. “Got a name, friend?”

“Not one you need to know,” he calls back. His posture is loose, casual, but you sense the whipcord tension in his Force aura; he’s on the alert. 

As he probably should be. 

“If I tell you mine, will you tell me yours?” You offer him a disarming smile. “Seems only fair, right? Equitable partnership.” 

He snorts. “There’s no partnership.” 

“Fine,” you huff. You tell him your name anyways, and he mouths it silently, but none of that tension dissipates. You take the moment to appraise him a little more closely: lean body, self-assured slant of his shoulders, faded burn scar cut across his face. Heat licks up your spine.

“Cal,” he eventually says. “Cal Kestis.”

You smile wide at his honeyed voice. “Nice to meet you, Cal Kestis. Mind moving out of the way so I can continue on my merry way?” 

“Afraid I can’t do that,” he says, but there’s no trace of regret in that gorgeous voice, only immense exhaustion. 

Your saber hilt twitches against your back as your hand flexes nearly out of habit. Taking another deep, cleansing breath, you shrug as if his answer means nothing. The dark tide of the Force surges through your body, tingling in your fingertips, sharpening the smoggy night air into fine detail. “Well, can’t say I didn’t ask nicely.” 

And then you leap, going from a dead standstill to a flurry of action in the space of a heartbeat. As your unstable crimson blade screeches to life, bathing the rooftops in flickering light, an answering snap-hiss echoes around you. Blue beam clashes with red, showering sparks over both of you. 

Oh, he’s strong, and for some reason that makes your skin flush. You bare your teeth in a mockery of a smile and shove. He staggers back, feet slipping for a moment in the gravel surface of the rooftop, before he recovers. 

“I’ll give you this one chance to stand down,” he says, voice thick and low and oh how it makes you shiver. His eyes glint in the blue light of his saber. 

“Funny,” you snap, “I was just going to say the same to you.” 

A frown tugs at his mouth. Lowering into a defensive stance, his eyes never leave yours as you languidly swing your saber in a half circle around you, content to draw this out. You’ve killed your number of Jedi in the name of self-preservation—necessary sacrifices to ensure the continued balance of Light and Dark—but there’s something about the way his green eyes harden into sharp gems the longer you twirl your blade, the casual power in his veined forearms, the absolutely pure gold energy he radiates in the Force. 

With an aggravated shake of your head, you press the attack. Overhead, backhand, thrust, thrust, parry—you and Cal settle into a dangerous dance. Bright light bursts where your sabers connect, sparks skittering across the gravel. For anyone watching nearby, the pair of you probably look like blurs of red and blue light—another light fixture among this technicolor urban landscape. 

But for anyone skilled in the Force, the radiance of your sabers dims in comparison to the pillars of energy you both become. One golden and bright as a thousand suns, shot through with faint tendrils of inky blackness; one glowing in shadow, a black hole ringed by its event horizon, smears of golden light. 

Both the light and the dark are present in this fight, and you smile grimly. In all things, balance, as your master used to say. 

The memory is a distraction, and Cal manages to break through your guard and punch your nose. Searing pressure spikes through your head, warmth dribbling down your face. 

You merely grin at him with blood-covered lips. “You’ll have to do better than that, Kestis.” 

And again the two of you become a flurry of attacks, parries, counterattacks, feints. In the distance, the low drone of a police siren reverberates off the tall glass buildings of the downtown area. You’ve been spotted. Time to end this now. 

You make a show of appearing to be tiring, breathing coming in heavy gasps, your saber still meeting Cal’s in time to stop him from separating your limbs from your body, but just a fraction slower than what you’d begun with. And you give ground. Just a half step at first, and then several steps. Cal seizes the opportunity to push you back, force you into submission, gain the upperhand—

Not knowing he’d lost this fight the moment he’d placed himself in your path. 

The Force is with you. In the Force, your arms seem to glow with terrible, purple-black ultraviolet power as you surrender yourself to its currents. There is no longer you and your saber; your saber is you. There is no longer you and Cal Kestis; there is you and the last piece of yourself that you’re willing to atrophy. Veins of golden Light criss-cross under your darkly shining skin—and as you stand firm once again with your back to the low roof edge, you will those golden veins to flush, to swell. You’re going to triumph here, and it’ll be with the approval of the full Force.

Cal’s face gleams with sweat, his brow furrowed, delicious mouth curved down in a frown. You lick your lips. 

“Yield, Kestis,” you say. One last chance. 

He just grunts, and in a blur of motion, separates the hilt of his saber. Another beam of blue snaps to life. Fear flares in you for a moment—but the Force remains with you, and you let the emotion siphon into your cracked, bleeding kyber. Plasma spits off the sides of your blade as you block attack after attack after attack; you’re an infinite well of patience—but that siren is getting closer, and you know that time, unlike your patience, is of the essence. 

In a flash of inspiration, you reverse your grip on your hilt mid-parry, then swipe the angry blade out and up. A cry of pain, and one of the blue sabers retracts as the hilt clatters to the gravel. Cal stumbles back, cradling his left arm to his chest, his remaining saber held in front of him. 

You can’t help the surge of pleasure at besting your opponent, even temporarily. As you twirl your saber again, a spotlight suddenly beams down on the two of you. With a grimace, you swing the saber down towards the soft juncture of Cal’s neck where it meets his shoulder—

And freeze when you catch a glimpse of the calm, resigned look in his eyes. Your blade hovers mere centimeters off his skin. 

Amid the roar of hovercraft, the police siren, and the rushing of blood in your ears, he murmurs your name.

“Kark it all,” you spit. Gathering the Force within you, you shove him back. A shout of surprise, a flash of blue, and then he’s tumbling over the edge of the building. You retract your blade and dash in the opposite direction without a second thought. 

Your master had always been honest with you about how little he, or anyone, truly knew about the mysteries of the Force. During your years as a padawan, you spent countless hours in meditation chambers deep below the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, feeling the constant ebb and flow of the Force around you. The first time he brought you there, your master explained in hushed tones how the temple had been built millennia ago over an old Sith temple. The Force resided in a nexus point there; streams of energy flowed from all over the galaxy and converged—and then diverged—from the temple. 

Sitting in meditation now, you breathe deeply and steadily as the memory crests over you. 

“But, Master,” you asked, “if the temple used to be a Sith stronghold, doesn’t that mean the dark side of the Force is strong here, too?” 

His kind, patient eyes crinkled as he smiled. “That is right, my Padawan. In all things, there must be balance. Light and dark only exist because of each other.”

A frown tugged at your lips at that, and you cocked your head to the side. “But aren’t we supposed to resist the darkness?” 

“Yes,” he said. “The darkness is an overbalance—an overabundance—of emotions, passions, fears. The Sith, and all who use the dark side, manipulate the Force to their will, instead of letting their emotions, like the Force, flow through them.” 

Something about that didn’t feel right. “But—” 

Your master held up one hand, forestalling the line of questioning you were about to launch into. He stepped through a large, arched doorway into a dim, echoing room. “Come, Padawan. Perhaps meditating will provide the answers you seek.” 

You inhale slowly and open your eyes, squinting against the bright blue glare of the hyperspace lane. No matter how long or how hard you meditated under the temple, you grew no closer to an answer than by asking your master. Despite your frustration, you kept returning to the chambers below the Great Hall. The Force there was...comforting. Balanced. And yet, so infuriating in its mystery. You could feel both the light and the dark, and neither were good or bad. The Force just...was. Perhaps it was the long hours you spent in the tunnels and vast echoic chambers there that you developed your keen sense for the composition of the Force.

Standing, you groan softly at the ache in your knees. As you settle back into the thinly padded pilot’s seat, you massage at the joints, wondering just when you’d gotten old. 

Probably when that droid shot through your master’s heart on Geonosis, and you’d physically felt the Force tip off-balance half a galaxy away, deep in meditation on Coruscant. The memory is painful, and digs its festering claws into your heart yet again. 

The Council hadn’t even needed to tell you your master had perished in the opening salvo of the Clone Wars. The morning after his funeral, with both his and your sabers in your pack, you’d fled the temple.

The old fool, you think, slashing the memory of him from your awareness.

By now, you’re used to the pit of emotions yawning in your very essence. You hold onto your fears, your angers, your anxieties—but also your loves, your passions, your desires. Without even really thinking about it, you reach for the loose compartment that holds your master’s saber. Its duranium-plated hilt is slowly corroding, matching the slow degradation of yourself. The blade jumps to life with a snap-hiss. The green glow it casts is almost sickly, the blade bright, but thin and tremulous. It’s been weak since he died.

As you stare, eyes burning, into the flickering core of your master’s blade, you reach into the Force for the kyber at its heart. No matter how many times you brush against the crystal with your mind, you’re never prepared. A screech, unending and agonized and fearful, rends through your consciousness. For a moment, the green sputters, crimson taking its place. 

You drop the saber, gasping. The hilt clatters to the floor and blade retracts, and you’re left again in the pressing silence of hyperspace.

In all things, balance, drift the words through you once again. Green against crimson. Crimson for blue. You think about Cal Kestis, his blinding presence; you think of your vacuous silhouette; and you take all the rage you can muster and twist it into your own heart like a dagger. The joists of your ship groan in response.

The second time you meet Cal Kestis, you almost wish you’d killed him all those years ago.

Just a few months after that first encounter on rain-slicked rooftops, you caught wind of a rumor that the flame-headed being attacked the Fortress Inquisitorius itself. This time, you didn’t discount the story, having witnessed first hand—for however short a time—the Force-empowered determination of that single human being. None of the rumors about Cal Kestis surprise you anymore. 

But you routinely have to curse his name as the Inquisitors have now turned their attention beyond just Jedi. The cloak of the darkness is no longer enough on its own to hide you from the long gaze of the Empire. You’ve taken to hiding out on barely populated Outer Rim worlds, hanging around long enough to establish some kind of routine, before the gentle ripples of the Force lapping against your subconscious grow into towering, dangerous waves. And then you hop back in your ship, barely more than scrap welded to a hyperdrive, and scuttle off to the next system. 

Which is where you find yourself now. Koboh could be promising. As you crouch at the edge of an exposed cliff, you study the cosmic anomaly that orbits the planet. The Abyss. You’re not sure what it is, but whatever it is, it creates a strong enough disturbance in the Force that you’re hopeful it will mask your own signature. And, you admit to yourself as your gaze lowers to the breathtaking landscape spread out below you, you’ve hidden in worse places the last few years. Koboh seems promising, indeed.

You spend a few days studying the locals, trying to get a feel for how life works here. For the most part, everyone here seems like they’re from off-world—which is good, because it means you won’t stand out for very long as a newcomer. Everyone here is a newcomer. And everyone here is more concerned, it seems, with the things that lie in the dirt than in the world aboveground. All the better for you. 

Concealing your saber hilt against your back like always, you make sure your ship, bucket of bolts that it is, is well-hidden enough to dissuade any potential scrappers. Tucked high on an outcropping, you hope most folks won’t care too much to check out the shiny metal bits not covered by plant matter. Not when it’s several dozen feet above solid ground. 

And you make sure you look as uninteresting as possible. With your saber out of view, you could pass for a refugee without issue. Force knows you’ve been weeks without a proper shower; you can feel the dirt and grime on every inch of your skin. Your clothing, usually neat and tucked in, is dusty, torn, and stained with dried blood. 

Yes, you’ll fit in nicely here. 

As you pass beneath a metallic archway decorated with a massive horned skull, you reach out in the Force, making sure that none of the town’s inhabitants can get the drop on you. You bypass squat, square buildings that are probably homes of some of the folks here. None seem of interest. Instead, your gaze is trained on the larger, multi-story building near the center of town. As you draw nearer, you realize the sign above the door reads, “Saloon.” Perfect. 

The door opens to admit you into a hallway; at the end, you wait in front of another door for a moment while a mechanical eye studies you. Chattering in a deep, unintelligible voice, the eye withdraws, and the second door whooshes open to reveal the barroom. 

No one turns as you descend the few steps to the floor. Crates and clutter stock most of the booths along the side wall, a few folks talking quietly at smaller tables or sitting alone and nursing a drink. Quiet, staticky radio music plays over the speakers. 

Behind the bar is a tall, four-armed droid who skids to a halt where you lean against the counter.

“You’re a new face,” the droid says. “Name’s Monk. What can I get you?” 

You quirk an eyebrow and give the droid, Monk, an alias, your sixth one in as many months. Then you say, “Got any spotchka?” 

“Indeed I do,” Monk says. “Shall I start a tab?” 

“I’ll pay up front,” you say with a shake of your head. 

Monk gives you the cost as he pours the glowing blue liquid into a clean glass, and you slide the credits across the counter. The alcohol’s familiar burn slides down your throat as you lean your back against the bar. Over the rim of your glass, you study the other patrons here at the saloon. Dusty, tired figures, the lot of them. In the Force, they are marginal, giving off only nominal signatures, no different than most other living beings. Most of them aren’t important enough to even warrant a clear affiliation with light or dark; they just are. Your upper lip quirks in a grimace.

Extending your awareness out farther, you’re not sure what you’re searching for, but you suppose you’ll know it when you find it. The hilt of your saber digs uncomfortably into your skin, but you ignore it, using the pain to sharpen your focus. You sense more townsfolk going to and fro outside the saloon, but none of them of any more note than those inside.

Something in you itches. Frowning, you lower the glass of spotchka and try to focus in on that feeling. It’s under your skin, out of reach, just behind your spine, but if you just push a little farther—

You gasp, cringing away from the sudden supernova that blinds your awareness in the Force. Cal Kestis. It has to be Cal. No one else burns quite like him. 

You yank your Force signature back into your body, hoping he didn’t feel you like you felt him. Figuring you only have moments to get out, you make a split-second decision between the several other doors leading away from this main room. Spotchka glass still in hand, you dart for the nearest door, and it slides open to reveal a staircase that winds upward. You take the steps two at a time. At the landing, you hiss at the sight of a second-floor loft. Stairs seem to continue along the other side, continuing to wind upward, but before you can run for them, a familiar voice drifts up from below. 

“Hey, Monk, good to see you,” says Cal Kestis. 

Your body flushes with warmth. Kriff. 

Monk says something you can’t quite make out. 

“Another newcomer?” Cal says. “I’ll make sure to say hi when I see them.” 

Grimacing, you creep across the floor toward the second staircase. Your foot just touches the bottom step when a voice behind you calls your name—your real name, not the alias you gave the droid. 

You sigh, chin falling toward your chest. “Cal Kestis.” 

“How did you find me?” 

His green gaze burns into you almost as hot as his Force signature. You roll your eyes; typical Jedi, thinking the world revolves around him.

“I didn’t know you were here,” you say. “I’m...laying low.” 

He crosses his arms across his chest, and you’re distracted for a moment by the way his muscles bulge against the fabric of his shirt. “I’m supposed to believe that.”

“Believe whatever you want to, Jedi,” you bite out. “I’ll go find my own desolate planet.” 

“Can’t let you do that,” he says, following behind you as you climb the stairs. 

“I’d love to see you stop me.” 

You feel the disturbance in the Force and brace for it. His attempt to yank you back down the stairs fails as you push against it—but you can’t push past it. Equally matched. Balanced. 

With a growl, you spin on your heel and point an accusing finger at Cal. “Are you really sure you want to do this right now?” 

His eyes narrow at you as you stand there, chest heaving with emotion, both of you crackling with energy in the Force. You down the rest of your spotchka and shatter the glass on the ground. Cal doesn’t flinch. The longer you stand there, the hotter your face flushes. Ignoring the impulse to shudder, you don’t miss the way his green eyes study your face, your posture, your signature. 

“I know you,” he finally says. “From the temple.” 

You snort in derision. “Good for you, kid.” 

“I was still a youngling when the Clone Wars started,” he says. “I...understand what it’s like to lose your master.” 

Your vision pulses black for a moment, and on instinct you reach out with a clawed hand. Cal’s eyes widen in fear as his hands fly to his throat, grabbing at the invisible hand you squeeze there.

“Don’t. Ever. Presume to know anything about me,” you hiss. “You know nothing, Cal Kestis.” 

“You’re—right—” he chokes out. “I’m—sorry—”

You shove, the Force exploding through your palm as he slams into the opposite wall. Sputtering, he coughs, rubbing at his throat. 

“I don’t need your pity, Jedi.” You spit the title like a curse—like the curse that it is—and turn to take the staircase up and out. The door at the top admits you to the open-air roof, the cosmic explosion of the Abyss looming overhead. 

You step over the edge of the roof, calling on the Force to cushion your descent. At the bottom, you ignore the flabbergasted expressions on a few of the locals as you stalk off. Past the saloon, past the stables, through the shallow river—you’re not sure how far you walk, but it’s dark by the time that you realize you’re lost. 

“Kriff,” you sigh. 

Thankfully, whether by luck or by the sheer force of presence of your Force signature, you’ve not been bothered by any of the (frankly terrifying) wildlife on this planet. Tentatively, you reach out, but you find nothing but a few docile Nekkos and, farther off, a dozing bilemaw. 

In the dim light provided by the Abyss and the Shattered Moon hanging heavy in the sky, you determine that a shallow cliff alcove nearby will be as good a place as any to rest until morning. Settling under the rocky overhang, you exhale a shaky breath. 

It’s been a long time since you let your emotions take control like that. You allow yourself to feel them, even to use them to your advantage—but you rarely lose control. Not recently, anyways. 

You bare your teeth at the thought of Cal Kestis. He’s by far only the latest in a string of former Jedi you’ve encountered, but none of them, even the ones who you remember from your years as a padawan, created this amount of turmoil in you. So why him? 

Should probably just ask him myself, huh, you muse, hearing a twig snap nearby. You don’t need to look into the Force to know who it is. 

“Who’s following who now?” you call. 

With a familiar hum, a blue blade sings as it springs to life, illuminating the alcove you’re hunkered in, as well as Cal’s lean figure. You’re too exhausted to be angry at this point, but a different kind of heat licks up your spine as you push up onto your feet. The warmth settles between your thighs, throbbing uncomfortably as he raises the saber overhead, his arm muscles flexing. 

“Had to make sure you didn’t hurt anyone,” he says, halting just a few feet away. 

“No one out here to hurt,” you say. “What are you really doing here, Kestis?” 

He hesitates, shifting his weight between his feet, eyes not meeting yours. Squinting, you extend a tendril of awareness toward him—past the burnished gold aura, past the shell of Jedi honor he projects like a shield, until you brush against one of those tiny black cracks in his signature. He stiffens, shifts his stance into a defensive half-crouch. There is darkness in him. 

And there is lightness in you, sighs a voice that sounds very much like your master’s. 

You ignore it. 

“Well?” you prompt. 

“I- I don’t know,” he says. 

You snort. “Well, when you figure it out, let me know.” Sinking back into a meditative pose, you let your eyes slide shut and effectively shut out all things Cal Kestis.

At least, that’s what you try to do. The karking idiot seems to have decided that you’re not a threat—a poor miscalculation on his part—as his saber retracts and you hear the sounds of someone settling into a meditative trance next to you. Peeking one eye open, you glance over to find him sat back on his heels, palms resting on his thighs, his face blank and serene. He’s beautiful like this, you think. 

“I could kill you right now, you know,” you say, letting your eye fall shut again. 

“You won’t,” he says, sounding so matter-of-fact that you’re almost convinced that you really wouldn’t. 

Then you shake your head. “Don’t be so certain.” 

“You didn’t kill me five years ago. You won’t kill me now.” 

Gnawing at your cheek, you find you have no response for that. 

The third time you face Cal Kestis, you want to hate him. 

Koboh proves to be big enough for two powerful Force users. You keep to the wilderness, and he sticks to the town. For the most part, anyway. You occasionally catch a glimpse of copper hair as he explores the planet, following all the inane rumors of the locals. Why he even lowers himself to their level, you’ll never understand. 

And besides, Koboh has turned out to be a perfect place to continue your search for answers about the Force. You’ve never wanted to stop knowing, never stopped asking “But why?” The Abyss above is a physical presence most days, nearly oppressive in its crushing weight. It absolutely deafens you in the Force whenever you try to reach for it, painful screeching assaulting your senses. There’s something behind the noise, though, but it’s too far, too deep, for you to reach it. 

You haven’t seen Cal in a while now. And you’re fine with that. You’d watched his ship take off in the early hours of the morning a few weeks ago, and it still hasn’t returned. 

Shrugging, you decide that today is as good a day as any to do some exploring of your own. You’ve watched Cal enough to know that there are hidden vaults on this planet, and from what you’ve been able to tell, they’re old. Maybe they’ll have some answers. 

The sunrise peeks over the craggy cliffside, casting a gentle pink hue over the world, still hushed in its predawn slumber. Dew collects on your pant legs as you pass through a small clearing of scrubby bushes. A couple dozen feet up the hill glints a hint of gold. None of the Koboh prospectors would have left this alone unless it were for a reason, you figure. Maybe this is one of the vaults. 

Resting a palm gently on its surface, the gold is cool to the touch. Glyphs in Basic and other languages spiral around the circular door-like structure. When you examine it through the Force, you feel the mechanism that keeps it locked, but no matter how much you push, pull, yank, shove, the door remains sealed. 

“Dank farrik,” you curse. “How does Cal do it?” 

“Very carefully,” a familiar warm voice says from behind you. 

You barely glance over your shoulder, flushing from the embarrassment of being caught unawares, but somehow unsurprised he’s managed to find you. You should have known that even thinking of his absence would cause it to revert. 

“Very funny,” you say. “What secrets are you hiding, Jedi?” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Sith,” he says. 

As he sidles up alongside you, you glare at him. “I’m not a Sith.”

“Coulda fooled me,” he says with a shrug. “Red saber, strong in the dark side, angry all the time.” 

Huffing, you roll your eyes. His hair is longer than it has been since you first met him, and there’s another scar, pink and shiny, on his upper bicep, like he’d been cut with a vibroblade. As you study him, you also realize he looks...older. More tired. More weary. 

“You look like bantha fodder,” you say helpfully. 

He hums noncommittally. “Do you want into the vault or not?” 

“You’re gonna let me in?” you say, eyebrows raising in surprise. 

With a half-shrug, he says, “I’ve already explored this one. Nothing left in it for you to gain, except maybe some manners.” 

He reveals a small, handheld device that, when he raises it toward the golden door, blips. The door expands open, revealing a turbolift in the center of the floor. 

“Why are you helping me?” you ask, not moving from your spot. Suspicion bubbles in the back of your mind. 

Cal pockets the device and gestures for you to go ahead, giving you a sardonic two-finger salute. “It’s in my nature.” 

With that, he takes a step back, then another, and then pivots and trudges back downhill, tucking his fiery hair behind his ears. 

The vault teaches you something, alright, but it isn’t manners like Cal hoped. Even two century-old tech and warbled messages from a Jedi named Santari Khri cannot lift the veil of jade that rests over your eyes. The Order has always been faulty. The Order has always been weak. Your master was always fated to die, and you to wander, adrift. You grind your teeth in anger. Is that all that exists for you? For anyone? To live and die at the whim of some cosmic, unknowable power? 

The vault also reminds you of your mortality. As you work yourself into a silent rage about the unfairness of the galaxy, at the cruel and nonsensical nature of the Force, you miscalculate the distance between two crumbling stone platforms. With a Force-assisted leap, your arms windmill as you keep yourself balanced, but your feet only just manage to catch the edge of the platform. You wobble, anger bursting into fear, as the stone grates against itself before your stomach is in your throat as you plummet straight down. 

The rush of frigid air steals the scream from your lungs. Try as you might, the Force refuses to help you grasp onto the quickly receding lip of this chasm. 

And then pain rockets up your legs in jagged, arcing lines from your heels to your hips, and you collapse. 

It’s only by sheer willpower that you don’t black out. Grit your teeth. Take a deep breath. Curse until the pain abates. 

You take stock of your body. Your legs are on fire, and any attempt to move them sends a fresh wave of lava licking up your nerve endings. Otherwise, you wipe away blood from scrapes on your palms and tenderly poke at the bruises already forming on your ribs. Around you, myriad rocks and small boulders litter the cracked, moist ground. Mist clings to the spaces in between. When you look up, the ledge you fell from is completely obscured. 

“No Jedi wisdom for me, Santari Khri?” you croak as you gently shift into an upright position. Your teeth squeak from clenching your jaw against the pain, but you manage to prop yourself up with your back against a sizable rock. 

The mist deadens your words. Instead of an echo, it’s like the words get clipped short before they can fully materialize in the air. The back of your neck pricks. But, studying your surroundings once more, there is nothing for you to do but meditate. Perhaps, for once, the Force will provide.

You have no way of knowing how much time has passed as you sit in meditation, methodically stretching your awareness to its limits, trying to snag onto any signature in the Force that might help you out of this predicament. Your butt goes completely numb, as do your legs—a fact you feel should incite panic in your already-tight chest, but you can’t find it in you to care. By the time that you’re ready to give up searching, your throat tickles with dryness and your stomach begins to feel empty. 

But just as you heave a sigh, rising out of the meditative trance, the Force tugs on your awareness. Furrowing your brow, you concentrate: up, up up up, and to the left. Something steadily growing closer. Something bright, and familiar, and warm. 

Cal. 

For once, you’re grateful for his annoyingly Jedi-like qualities. You track his presence through the Force, unable to do more than monitor as he seems to approach your location with frustrating slowness. 

“Come on,” you mutter, mouth thick. “I’m here. Come find me like you always do.” 

After what feels like another small eternity, you finally open your eyes and peer up through the opaque mist. Above, you swear you hear boots crunching on loose rock, and the distant bwee-boop of a droid. 

“Down here,” you half call, half croak. The words don’t seem to make it past your throat. 

For a terrible moment, you think Cal is going to search the seemingly empty vault and, not finding you within, leave. You can’t tell, through either his footsteps or his Force signature, what he’s doing up there. At the last moment, a burst of panic seizing your limbs, you lean forward with a groan and retrieve your saber, still miraculously tucked into your waistband. 

The spitting crimson blade is a comfort as it screeches to life in the oppressive space.

A voice calls your name, cautious. 

“Here!” you shout, voice cracking painfully in an effort to be heard. 

Blue flame bursts to life somewhere above—much farther above than you initially thought—and you nearly sob in relief. 

“Watch your eyes,” Cal shouts down, and you have only a moment to register what he means before you duck, retracting your blade. The unmistakable sound of saber scoring through rock reaches you, heated pebbles showering down on your covered head, and then the sound of two soft leather-clad feet touching down beside you. 

Wary, you raise your head. Cal crouches next to you, his face painted with a cautious kind of concern. 

“You came back?” You don’t mean to make it a question, but the softness in his eyes, the gentleness with which he ghosts his hands over your many injuries, makes you reconsider your previous anger toward him. At least, for a moment. 

“Like I said,” he murmurs, “it’s in my nature.” 

“Legs are the worst of it,” you say, gesturing weakly to your two limbs stretched in front of you. Both are angry shades of blotchy red and purple, but no bone peeks out from within your skin at the very least. 

Cal casts a questioning look up at you, his palms hovering over your legs. You give a small nod, and he lowers his hands until they make feather-light contact with your skin. Even as careful as he’s being, pain erupts all over again when he brushes over your shin, and you squirm, cursing. 

“Probably fractured the bones,” he says. “Need to get you back to town.” 

You groan. “Unless you plan on carrying me out of here, Kestis, I’m not in any shape to make it all the way back.” 

He studies your face for a moment, really studies it, and you can’t help the way your lips part at the intensity in his gaze. Despite the aching pain in your legs, you can’t suppress the heat blooming up your neck into your cheeks the longer his eyes roam your face. Surely he can sense the way your Force aura grows more agitated. 

Whatever he’s searching for on your face, he seems to find it. Shrugging his shoulders, the curious little BD unit you’ve noticed with Cal peeks its white-and-red head up. With a boop?, Cal jerks his chin at you.

The droid slides down Cal’s back and trots up to you. Tilting its head, the mismatched eyes whir and toggle as the droid seems to study you with the same scrutiny as Cal just had.

“What—”

In the blink of an eye—faster, even—a flash of green light dazzles you, followed by the sharp pain of an injection. But that doesn’t even matter, as a blissful, cool relief spreads immediately from the injection site through the rest of your body. The ache in your legs subsides to a dull throb, and you find that you can finally move the limbs without wanting to vomit. 

“Stim,” Cal explains. He rises to his feet, and holds a hand out. “Come on. It’ll wear off soon.” 

His hand is warm, achingly so, when he grasps yours and tugs you to your feet. Grimacing at the wave of nausea that sweeps over you, you cling to his hand until it passes. 

He’s studying the sheer rockface to either side. “I may be carrying you out of here either way. Come on. Hop up.” 

He turns to retrieve your saber where you dropped the hilt—he stiffens for just a moment, so quick you think you imagine it, before he hands the hilt back to you. And then he remains facing away from you. You realize, with a deep-seated groan, that he’s removed the jacket he was wearing earlier, when he let you into the vault. His shoulders are bare and so strong and pretty and freckled and— 

His soft question of your name breaks you out of your reverie. 

“Right,” you say, clearing your throat. Tentatively, you hook your arms over top of his broad shoulders, trying to ignore the way his skin feels against yours, and he crouches so you can more easily clamber onto his back like a pack. 

“BD, up,” Cal orders, and you squirm as the droid clambers up your back to rest with one foot on your shoulder and the other on Cal’s. 

Even with the stim working through your system much like coolant in your ship’s engine, and even with Cal doing all he can to keep you steady on his back as he Force-propels himself up the vertical rockfaces of this cavern, you bite into your cheek hard enough for it to bleed to keep yourself from yelping in pain. It’s bad enough that he had to save you from a slow death in this Force-forsaken vault; he doesn’t need to know the fire that licks up your nerve endings with every jostle. 

You shuffle off his back as soon as you’re able. A grimace contorts your features as you stumble a few steps, but you wave away Cal’s steadying hands.

“I’m fine,” you grit out. 

“Yeah, you look fine,” he says. 

You shoot him a glare, but you’re more exhausted than you are angry. “You didn’t have to come back for me.” 

“If it makes you feel better,” he says, gesturing for you to step onto the turbolift first, “I don’t expect anything in return. You don’t owe me anything.” 

“Ha,” you bark out. Your stomach lurches as the turbolift shudders into its ascent. “Of course I owe you, Kestis. It’s all about balance.” 

“Balance,” he says, his voice strangely hollow and contemplative. “You murdered Rexan Binette and Sarela Webb and the others for balance?” 

The names of the Jedi you killed reverberate off the curved walls of the lift chamber. Breathing through your nose, you avoid his gaze—and then shake your head at yourself, angry. Why should you be ashamed? It was them or you. 

The lift comes to a smooth halt at the top, and you’re somehow unsurprised to find that it appears to be dawn again. Your eyes find Cal’s green ones. They look nearly black in the early morning haze. His expression bares all of his emotions: hurt, suspicion, concern, worry. But he doesn’t seem...afraid. Not of you, anyways, and instead of filling you with rage, that realization makes you deflate. 

“The galaxy changed,” you say, voice flat. “You change with it, or you die.” 

He fixes you with his stare for a moment more, and then shakes his head and begins the long walk back downhill without a word. Heaving a sigh, you follow him. You can’t repay the debt you now owe him if you die from an infected wound. You tell yourself that the heat bubbling in your chest is hate, hate that you’re now bound to this life debt, hate that of all people you’re in debt to Cal Kestis. But hate has never felt so soft.

The final time that you and Cal Kestis cross paths, you remember why hatred is easier. 

It’s only a few weeks after when you’ve fully healed thanks to Cal’s quick intervention, the extra stores of bacta that you had the good foresight to stash in your ship years ago, and perhaps a nudge from the Force. You’ve retreated to your ramshackle abode in the wilderness; thankfully, the worst you have to deal with upon returning is a stray Bogling. No matter how hard you try to shoo the pesky creature away from your hut, it comes back again. 

“You’re lucky you’re so cute,” you grumble, watching the Bogling scratch at the dirt out front of your hut. It chitters as it works to burrow its den. 

Cal has disappeared again, which works just fine for you. It’s easier to attune to the Force when he’s gone. When you’re not distracted by his burnished radiance, his soothing calmness, his serene meditation posture, his hair that looks as soft as the Bogling’s fur, his...him.

Genuinely, who the kriff does Cal Kestis think he is? Where does he get the right to continue to do good in the galaxy when all the galaxy wants is to kill him? To kill everyone like him? How does he continue fighting? 

For that matter, how do you continue fighting? The sudden self-introspection is jarring. You squint a glare up at the Abyss, the technicolor explosion hanging heavy in the sky, as if it personally arranged your fated entanglement with the Jedi. As if it asked the question of your purpose, not your own conscience.

You have to squint in part because, in the Force, the Abyss is blinding. Stare too long and you’ll be blinking away spots from your vision for hours afterward. As your eyes start to water, you shake your head and bring your gaze back to terra firma. Kark it all, you think, bitter. You continue fighting because you have to. Because you have to know the answer. You have to understand the balance. 

In the Force, you’ve watched for years as the streaks of light in your otherwise void-like existence pulse and contract. Here, underneath the staggering presence of the Abyss, the galactic, even cosmic, struggle between Light and Dark, splashes across your own skin, a microcosm. It makes you angry all over again, as you study the vapors of golden lightness drift around you. The anger is good. The anger makes the darkness pulse and surge and rise; the anger makes you more focused. 

Gritting your teeth, you try to hang onto the anger. 

And then you don’t have to try at all. In your peripheral awareness, the Bogling has scurried in fright into your small hut as the sound of footsteps—many, many footsteps—echoes off the surrounding cliff walls. Your lips curl back in a snarl at being interrupted. Saber hilt smacking into your palm with a familiar weight, the unsteady red blade fills your small clearing with a threatening hum. 

Around the corner comes a full squad of Imperials. For a moment, you have to blink, to make sure that what you’re seeing is correct. But no. The hard white duraplast armor gleams in the midday sun, the mixed group of scout- and Stormtroopers advancing as one giant, grotesque organism. And at its midst, in the nucleus, are two black-clad figures wielding crackling electrostaffs. 

Purge Troopers. 

How dare they. How dare they come to your planet—and you hesitate only a moment over the possessiveness in your anger—and only another moment more when you find that you include Cal’s place on Koboh in that possession. This is your planet, together. The Light, and the Dark. 

In all things, balance. 

“Enemy located,” crackles the voice of one of the troopers. You don’t know, and don’t frankly care, which. 

As the white-clad troopers fan out in a loose semicircle, blasters and batons raised at half-ready, the two Purge troopers continue a few paces forward. They’re nearly identical, all the way down to the way that they settle their weight on their right feet, perfectly unbalanced. 

“You won’t get away,” the one to your left calls, his voice imperious and cold. “Not this time. You’ll be coming with us.” 

“Don’t be so sure,” you call back, feigning disinterest. Through the Force, you mentally draw the battle map, the path of carnage and rage and blood you’ll wreak through the ten troopers in front of you. 

“There are ten of us,” the other Purge Trooper says, voice cocky and self-assured. The battle map in your mind halts, then reasserts itself with a new pattern. One that places Mr. Cocky and Arrogant at the top of your assault. 

You snort. “Glad to know the Empire is teaching its troopers basic math. Let’s get this over with, shall we?” 

You twirl your saber in a half circle around your body, a familiar ritual, a reset button to remind you to keep your head clear. As blasters raise to full height, you take a deep, centering breath, and close your eyes.

A silence takes over your ears, your mind, your very being. You are one with the Force; the Force is with you. Despite all your issues with the cosmic Force, you know it will not fail you now. You don’t hear the order to fire, you don’t hear the clicks of triggers, you don’t hear the scream of blaster bolts. You don’t need to. Guided by the Force, void-like and in command, your arms—your saber—jumps into place. 

Four blaster bolts pelt your way. Four blaster bolts ricochet and catch their originators in the chest. Four troopers fall. 

You open your eyes, lips tugging back over your teeth in a mockery of a smile. Sound returns to you just as one of the scout troopers, shaken, stumbles back with a cry: “St-Stormtrooper KIA!” 

You enact your battle map. 

Gathering the Force to yourself, you push off the ground and shoot forward with a Force assist, your saber swinging up and cleaving back down at the critical juncture between the cocky Purge Trooper’s neck and shoulder. The glowing plasma sinks easily through duraplast, fabric, and flesh alike; the trooper’s groan of pain gurgles as your blade cuts through his lungs. Now there are five. 

You whirl, saber moving nearly of its own accord to intercept each blow that the remaining troopers rain upon you. It’s nearly child’s play to parry their attacks, send them staggering off-balance. In a crucial moment where all your opponents hesitate to move forward again, you bare your teeth. Reaching out with a clawed hand, you grip the throat of one of the troopers, lift him bodily with the Force, then yank down as hard as you can. There’s a satisfying crack when he hits the ground.

You’re doing fine. You’re going to triumph here; the Force has willed it so. The fear of the remaining troopers is palpable and you draw on it, siphoning it into yourself, into your cracked and screaming kyber crystal. With a leaping slash, two trooper heads bounce away.

The remaining two troopers look at each other. You don’t need the Force to smell the fear rolling off of the scout trooper in waves, and you fix him with a feral grin. 

“No more quips?” you ask, voice harsh. 

He drops his baton and runs.

“Just you and me,” the Purge Trooper observes. 

“How very astute of you,” you say. “Your friend was the smart one. You can still run; I’ll let you go. For now.” 

“Not a chance.” The buzzing electrostaff twirls through the air as the Trooper lowers into a defensive crouch. “Surrender.” 

“Not a chance,” you echo, matching his stance. “Now, why don’t—”

A voice, familiar and warm and distracting, shouts your name from above. Like a fool, you hesitate, turning. There’s a glimpse of coppery hair, a blue flame, and golden radiance. You growl at the interruption—

And cry out as the electrostaff comes down across your upper back, singeing into your clothing, biting into your skin. 

You drop to your knees, vision blurry. Stupid. That was stupid. 

The Purge Trooper immediately raises the staff for another strike, but before it can make contact with the back of your neck, a rush of energy steamrolls over you and shoves the trooper fifteen feet back. His heels dig into the soft dirt. 

“Jedi!” If the trooper is surprised to see Cal Kestis coming to the rescue of the likes of you, you can’t hear it in his voice. “Guess this is my lucky day.” 

“Don’t count on it,” you wheeze. Grunting in pain, you shove to your feet and reset, saber singing in the air, the smell of ozone stinging your nose. 

Your name again, gentler this time, and closer. This time, you don’t turn, instead waiting for him to come to you. And he does, just like you knew he would. In the corner of your eye, Cal Kestis and his supernova signature provide something like...comfort. Heat bubbles and sputters in your chest at his closeness. This feeling is hate, you reassure yourself. 

“You’re hurt,” he says, voice pitched low. 

“I’ve had worse,” you say. “You here to help, or to mock?” 

He fully faces you, and you sense more than see his eyes rake over your profile. With a shake of his head, his copper hair flowing nearly to his shoulders, he raises his saber, point-first, toward the Purge Trooper. With a satisfied smile, you swing your saber in lazy circles. Finally. 

The two of you attack at the same time, nudged along by the Force. Together, you flank the trooper, whose training seems to have prepared him for a moment such as this. But for all the training this trooper has, you and Cal have more. You and Cal have more to fight for. More to lose. More to gain. 

Cal’s blur of a blue saber slashes through the air, at every turn blocking the trooper’s pressing attack, forcing the Imp to recalibrate. And when he attempts to do so, tries to even catch his breath, you’re there, the Force driving your swings harder. You know the blows that land on the staffs jar the Imp’s wrists all the way to his shoulders. You know he’s going to falter. You know he’s going to die. 

When the fear once again rises from this trooper, you smile. 

Overconfident, you twirl, blade seeming to bend as it whirls through the air. It will connect with the trooper at his waist.

It does—but his staff connects with you once again at your own waist, and this time it bites into your flesh and holds. 

“No!” Cal’s shout is harsh and angry. With a final flash of blue, the Purge Trooper slumps sideways, body collapsing into the dirt. The momentum yanks the electrostaff out of your side. 

You drop your saber hilt to press against the bleeding wound, hands shaking. Kark, this hurts. Why does it hurt so bad? Cal’s face, with wide, scared green eyes, appears in your field of vision. 

A spark of anger temporarily distracts you from the pain in your side and along your back. “Kestis,” you grind out. “I had it under control.” 

“It’s in my nature,” he says, like that explains everything. You suppose it does. Your anger abandons you, and you stagger forward, into his embrace. 

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs against you as he ducks under your arm, taking your weight. “C’mon, we’ll get inside and I’ll patch you up.” 

“Got any more of those stims?” you ask, words slurring a little. You glance down at your side and blink dumbly at the amount of red staining your clothes. 

“A few more,” Cal says. “They’re yours. Just need to get you inside.” 

The several dozen feet to your hut pass in a blur and in a blink—you’re not sure which. Maybe it’s both. But you sigh as you settle down into the familiar comfort of your small cot. In the corner, you’re dimly aware of the Bogling cowering below the small kitchen table. Critter is cute, you suppose. Maybe it can stay. 

You’re delirious. That has to be it. You’d never willingly take in a stray. 

BD hops up on the cot next to you and, at Cal’s nod, ejects a glowing green stim canister. Cal catches it and then plunges the small needle into your side, just above the gash there. Cool relief tingles through you, and you smile at him. 

“That feels good,” you mumble. 

“I’m glad,” he says, an odd note in his voice. “You got medical supplies?” 

You gesture vaguely to the screened-off back corner, your ’fresher. “If I do, s’in there.”

BD stays with you while Cal rummages through your meager supplies, the little droid’s head tilted to the side as though studying you. You blink at him. 

Bwoop-beep? the droid chimes. 

“I don’t speak Binary, sorry,” you say. 

Cal chuckles, returning with a handful of supplies. “He’s wondering if you’re feeling okay.” 

You feel okay enough to feel annoyed at the question, and you shoo the little droid off your bed. When you return your attention to Cal, he’s hesitating, a roll of gauze, bottle of alcohol, and a needle in his hands. 

“What,” you ask, flatly. 

“Need to take your shirt off to clean the wound properly,” he says, and if you knew him better, you might think he sounds nervous. Embarrassed, even. 

But you don’t know him that well, and so you ignore his tone of voice. “Fine.” 

You struggle for a moment to lift your shirt over your head, hissing as the movement pulls at the wound in your side. Once it’s off, you throw it toward the ’fresher. 

Cal still hesitates, his eyes everywhere but on you. Another surge of annoyance flares in you, and you snatch the medical supplies out of his hands. 

“I’d really like to not bleed out here, Kestis,” you admonish. He at least has the sense to look abashed at that, and assists you in cleaning out the wound, stitching it shut, and wrapping you in gauze to keep pressure on it. You don’t let out a single curse, hiss, or groan the entire time, making the inside of your mouth bleed with how hard you bite down. 

“You okay?” he asks once you’re bandaged up. 

“What do you think?” you retort. “M’gonna sleep. You can go.” 

“I’ll stay,” he says. He withdraws, but remains in your small hut, slinging himself into the hand-hewn wooden chair at your dining table. “Rest. I’ll keep watch.” 

“Why?” You can’t help the way the question sounds equal parts frustrated and incredulous.

“Just sleep, Sith,” he says. His voice brooks no argument, and for once, you have none.

When you wake, it’s still light outside. Your mouth feels like it’s been stuffed with gauze and left to dry out, your head not much better. With a soft groan, you roll onto your side and peer into the half-lit room. 

Cal’s already watching you. His gaze meets yours and pierces you, pinning you to the small cot tucked against the wall. Swallowing against the dryness in your throat, you study his features. The dark scar across his face. The lean lines of his torso and muscles. The strand of fiery hair that curls over his forehead and teases his chin. Despite the lingering shards of pain in your side, heat flickers in your core.

“Why did you really come here, Cal?” you ask, voice low, the stillness around you demanding to remain unbroken. “Why did you come back for me at all? You know the things I’ve done. The people I’ve killed. I can’t be worth saving.” 

He is quiet as he contemplates your question, his hands loosely clasped in his lap. Silence stretches between you, slow and languid, and you nearly hold your breath waiting for his response. 

Eventually he gives a half shrug. “There was a time when I believed everyone is worth saving. Since the Empire, things have...been different. I’m not so sure everyone deserves to be saved.” 

“So why come back?” 

His eyes are soft when they find yours again. You want to be angry, want to latch onto the residual pain in your body and sharpen it into a vibroblade, hurl it outward from yourself and hope it hurts him as much as you’ve been hurt. In your gut, the darkness stirs, but in your heart, the light whispers patience. 

“I see too much of myself in you to not come back for you,” he says, so quiet you nearly don’t process the words. 

But when his confession does register, you blink in surprise. You can’t help the chuckle that escapes you. 

“We couldn’t be more opposite, Kestis,” you say. “Do you know what you look like, in the Force?” 

When he remains silent, shifting in the wooden chair uncomfortably, you push yourself up into a sitting position. A sigh sloughs out of your throat. 

“You’re the most...beautiful thing I’ve seen,” you say, hesitating only briefly over the words. “You shine. You’re a beacon of light. Stars, Cal, you’re practically a star yourself.” 

His lips part in surprise, and you can’t ignore the way your core twists at the expression. “But—”

You raise a hand. “There’s darkness there, sure, but you are the light, Kestis. And sure, there may be light in me, but believe me, I’m a void. The void. You’ll never carry the sins that blacken my soul.” 

His toned chest rises and falls with his rapid, shallow breaths. When he swallows, you watch the way his throat bobs, the muscles that strain at his neck, the tightening of his hands into fists. Without even needing to look, you can feel the way his Force signature roils with confusion and surprise. You’ve caught him off-guard, yet again. The knowledge sends a pulse of heat to the apex of your thighs.

“Show me,” he whispers. 

You frown, brows furrowing. “What?” 

“In the Force,” he says. “Show me.”

“I’ve never—” 

“I have a gift.” He grimaces. “Psychometry. It might not work. But I want to see.” 

Ah. You understand how he knew the names of the Jedi you murdered, and glance at your saber hilt resting on the table near him. How much has he seen? 

Apparently, not enough. 

Worrying your lip between your teeth, you shrug. “Fine. C’mere.” 

The cot groans under the added weight, not meant for two people, but it holds. You adjust yourself to sit with your legs crossed, your knees touching Cal’s as he mirrors your posture. A slight twinge tugs at your ribs as you move. Cal’s eyes soften again as you grimace. 

“Don’t,” you grit out. “Save your pity.” 

“It’s not—” He huffs. “Whatever.” 

Glaring up at him through your eyelashes, you nevertheless rest your hands palm-up, fingers outstretched toward him. Cal gently rests his hands over yours. His skin is heated, electric where it touches yours. The thought crosses your mind, fleetingly, what your odds would be if you decided to finally end it here and now; the thought disappears as soon as his calloused fingers wrap around your forearms. 

“Like this?” he murmurs. 

“Feels right,” you reply in the same tone. “Here goes nothing, yeah?” 

You inhale a deep, centering breath, and allow yourself to sink into the currents of the Force. For a moment you have to squint as Cal’s truest form explodes across your perception. This close, you’re surprised he doesn’t radiate any extra heat. You’re also surprised at the imperfections you find in his signature, the small nicks in the otherwise flawless, gleaming golden skin. You have to restrain yourself from leaning forward to examine him even closer. The desire to know him, to pick him apart and put him back together, rushes through you, pulsing in your fingertips. 

When you feel adjusted to his presence, this close, this intoxicating, you squeeze his hands. Focusing on the places where the two of you connect—your palms, your knees, your signatures—you will your unique sight to bleed into his awareness. 

Judging from the way he stiffens and gasps, you figure it worked. Your combined abilities and strength in the Force, overlapping just this once, let him see the world like you do.

“You’re so...” He trails off, voice strained. “Empty.” 

“Thanks for noticing.” You squeeze his hands again. “Do you underst— oh.”

You nearly choke as the Force nudges against your mind. For a moment, you’re no longer in your hut, but instead on an unfamiliar ship, palms pressed against a stranger’s—no, not a stranger—her name drifts to you. Merrin. You’re comparing palm sizes with her, and her hands are nearly as big as yours—as Cal’s. 

You rip away from Cal Kestis and the illusion breaks. 

Heat burns up your neck to your face. “What the kriffing hell was that?” 

“What did you see?” he asks, concern flashing in his eyes. He reaches for you, and you lean away, glaring. 

You don’t even know why you’re angry. Any emotions you’ve felt for Cal have been ones you can explain: anger, frustration, begrudging respect, competitiveness, hatred. You recognize his attractiveness, and you don’t deny the effect his presence has on your baser desires—but the nearly painful flare of possessiveness pulsing in you right now is foreign. Inexplicable. 

“It doesn’t matter,” you eventually mutter. “Did you see?” 

“I saw you,” he says. Tentatively, he skims his fingertips over your leg, up to your knee. When you don’t retreat, he gently snags your hand and threads your fingers together. “I’m sorry.” 

You bare your teeth and tug your hand away—or try to. His fingers tighten around yours, holding you in place. “I told you before, Kestis. I don’t need your pity.” 

“Then don’t see it as pity,” he says. “See it as an understanding. A mutual experience.” 

Sucking on your teeth, your jaw clenches for a moment before you sigh. “Fine. Who’s Merrin?” 

“An old friend,” Cal says, a little too quickly. “She’s... She went her own way a while ago.” 

Something like triumph glows in you. “Good.” 

He fixes you with a confused look, a crease forming between his brows. “Wha—” 

You cut him off, surging forward to press your lips greedily against his. The impulse to be closer to him, impossibly close, is overwhelming in this moment. His palm is warm and steady and grounding against yours. He grunts against you, going absolutely still. 

When you pull away, not moving more than a few inches away, you meet the shock in his gaze with a sense of pride. His eyes flit between yours, searching. You drag your eyes down to his lips, parted and damp and so fucking pink.

His other hand cradles the back of your head and pulls you forward into another kiss. 

You groan into his mouth. His lips are warm and soft and sweet against yours, moving slowly, uncertain. You tilt your head, nudging his nose with your own. With your free hand, you grip at his shirt and claw your way into his lap. You need more. More of him, more of his warmth, more of his touch, more more moremoremore. 

He breathes your name against your lips, and you shush him gently. His body is hard and lean beneath yours, his touch hesitant. Fingers still intertwined, you guide his hand to your waist. Without the barrier of your shirt, his touch burns, scorching you from the outside in. His fingers splay across your skin, trailing molten desire in their wake. Heat pulses in your core.

“Kriff,” you sigh, “please.” 

“Didn’t think you had manners,” he quips, trailing open-mouthed kisses across your jaw, down your neck. 

You reach up and tug on his fiery hair, earning a low groan. “Rude.” 

He chuckles against your skin, his lips brushing against a sensitive spot. A shiver dances up your spine, a quiet sigh passing your lips. When he bites down there, you moan. 

“Kestis,” you pant. 

“Shh,” he soothes. The hand on your waist trails down to your hip and squeezes in time with another bite to your skin. With another groan, you rock your hips down into him. A grin curls your mouth up in pleasure at the feeling of his half-hard cock beneath you. 

“Off,” you order, tugging on his shirt. 

He breaks away from you long enough to yank the offending article up and over his head. Your palms smooth over the rippling muscles beneath his pale, freckled skin of his stomach, and he shudders. Brushing your thumb over a blaster scar under his ribs, you press a kiss to his shoulder. 

“Did it hurt?” you ask. 

“I’ve had worse,” he says. 

“Show me.” 

His green eyes are dark, nearly black, when he meets your gaze with a questioning look. In response, you skim a featherlight trail over his torso, lingering at the scars that mar his otherwise perfect skin—mirrors, you realize, of the imperfections of his golden aura. 

When you trace the pink scar that bisects his face, he shivers. His hand catches your wrist, halting your movement. 

“That one,” he whispers, voice pained. “That was the worst.” 

You recognize, this close, the telltale signs of a saber wound. He’s lucky to have survived that, you realize. 

Kriff. You press your mouth to his once again, wrapping your legs around his torso. His body fits against yours, hard planes to soft edges, and you groan in unison. His kiss is still tentative, but he moves against you without hesitation when you deepen the kiss, your tongue licking across his bottom lip. His tongue is hot against yours. Spit slicking your lips, you groan into his open mouth. 

Fuck, you need more. Pulling at his hair, you urge his head to tip back, exposing the pale column of his throat. You lick a stripe down his skin, tasting his natural saltiness, delighting in the way his cock hardens against your clothed core. 

“Want you,” you mumble against his collarbone. 

He hums. “I’m yours.”

That possessive flare from before practically obliterates any coherent thoughts your brain was still capable of producing. Growling, you push him onto his back, shuffling down, kissing and licking and biting at his skin as you fumble with his pants. The buttons come undone; his hips raise to help you shuck the clothing off. His cock bobs as it comes free of the confines. 

“Oh fuck,” you moan. “Been holding out on me, Kestis.” 

“If I’d known—” His voice cracks. “If I’d known all you needed was to be fucked, we coulda done this sooner.” 

Tingles spark through your core hearing him curse—hearing him talk about something as base and dirty as fucking you. Stars, the heat in your core is nearly unbearable. 

You need to taste him. 

Wrapping your fingers around his heavy cock, you smear a droplet of precum over his flushed head. His body jerks in response, his eyes half-lidded as he gazes down at you, a smirk playing at his lips. Without warning, you envelope him in your mouth. Cal cries out, hips jerking up. You moan in satisfaction around him. Hollowing your cheeks, you sink your mouth further down onto his length, before sucking, tongue teasing the underside of his head. One hand cupping his balls, you relax your throat and take him deep. The curls at the base tickle your nose. 

“Oh stars,” he breathes. “You’re so good at that. F-Fuck.” 

You hum, settling into a rhythm. His hand, broad and strong and warm, rests on top of your head—not pushing, just there, feeling you. His chest heaving, you can’t help but admire the flush rising to his cheeks, painting him in sin. Spit dribbles out of your mouth, coating the parts of him you can’t reach. Your eyes never leave his. 

Snaking your free hand down your body, you moan at the pleasure that zings through you at the momentary relief of touching yourself. 

“No.” Cal’s voice is strangled, strained. He flicks two shaky fingers, and your hand is yanked out from beneath your body by the Force. 

An obscene pop echoes in your hut as you pull your mouth away from his weeping cock. “Either touch me, or I’ll do it myself,” you growl. 

“Then c-come here,” he stutters. 

Shimmying out of your pants, you discard the garments to the floor without a second thought and climb your way up his body. His hands skim your sides, his touch barely there, as your mouth reconnects with his. You don’t think you’ll ever get enough of his mouth, his touch, his cock. He feels too good. 

You hiss when his hand brushes against your aching sex. He breaks the kiss long enough for his eyes to find yours, a silent question there as his fingers find purchase at your core. 

You can only nod, not trusting your voice. When he moves his hand against you, your vision blurs and you press your forehead to his. 

“Stars, Kestis, just like that,” you hiss. 

He rubs his nose against yours. “Let me take care of you.” 

His touch is electric. Your body jerks against him when his fingers move just right, applying just the right amount of pressure. Heat and tension build in your belly, growing more and more taut by the second. Your legs shake on either side of his hips. 

“Cal,” you whine. “Gonna cum.” 

His touch retreats, and you whimper at the loss of contact. 

“You’re g-gonna cum on my cock,” he promises, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. The sweetness of the action contrasts with the filth of his words, and your stomach lurches. 

“Fuck, yes, okay.” You spit in your hand and reach down to make sure you’re ready for him.

He slicks his own palm with spit and jerks his cock once, twice, getting himself prepped. With his hand at his base, steadying his length, you slowly sink onto him. He splits you open inch by inch, the delicious burn of him in your core drawing a pitiful moan from your chest. When he bottoms out, you twitch in his lap, chest heaving. 

“T-Take me so well,” he murmurs, ghosting his fingertips over your face. “Stars, you feel so- so good.” 

You whine. “Cal.” 

“I know, baby, I know.” 

The pet name seems to surprise him as much as it does you. The heat that’s been simmering in your chest for months now, since the first time you encountered him, dulls into something...softer. More muted. More pliant. 

Eyes locked together, you test the waters and raise your hips a fraction. Moans tumble from both of you at the friction, and that’s all you need. Rolling your hips, you work his cock, drawing the most delicious noises from him. He caresses your face, smooths a hand over your back, kisses you sweetly. You find just the right angle where his cock brushes against that bundle of nerves deep inside, and you shudder. 

“Cal, I—” 

“Yes,” he groans. “Don’t stop.” 

You don���t. You drag your hips frantically against his, chasing the sparks bursting in your core with each thrust. His touch turns harsh as you ride him; your hips will surely bear bruises tomorrow in the shape of his fingertips. You moan at the thought. Mine. Mine mine mine mine. 

Rutting against that raw piece of heaven in your core, you’re blind to everything else. Your injury forgotten, the empty void that yawns in your soul, your frustration with Cal Kestis: all of it is irrelevant right now. All that matters is that you keep fucking Cal. All that matters is the way his cock feels sliding in and out of you, dragging against your walls. All that matters is the way he moans your name like a prayer. 

“Need you t-to cum,” he orders, words faltering as you clench around his cock. 

“I’m close,” you say, voice hoarse. The tension in your belly draws hot and tight, ready to snap. 

Cal finally thrusts up to meet you when you bounce down, and you scream. That taut cord in your belly releases, snapping in two, and you see white. Pleasure explodes through you; every nerve lit on fire, tears dew in your eyes from the intensity. You claw at Cal’s chest, searching for purchase as he absolutely rails into you, chasing his own release. 

Through it all, he babbles. “J-Just like that, baby. Cum all over this cock. Fuck, you’re g-gonna make me— I— fuck, ngh, I’m—” 

He stills as he cums, his cock pulsing against your walls, and you jerk at the sensation, oversensitive. 

Your eyes flutter as you look down at him in the gathering darkness. His skin shines with a thin sheen of sweat. As his cock softens inside of you, letting some of his cum drip out, you groan softly. 

“This was a mistake,” you whisper. 

He swallows visibly, and nods. “I know.” 

You capture his lips in another kiss, one he returns with a fervor. Stars, you almost wish you really did hate him. This would be so much easier. 

“What now?” he asks, thumb brushing over your tender hips. 

You shrug. “Same time next week?” 

He huffs a laugh. “Very funny.” 

“Thanks.” 

He hums. “I’m leaving tomorrow.” 

All of the heat of the last few minutes dissipates immediately, and ice knifes your insides. You push away from him finally, his cum dripping down your inner thigh as you stand, bend to retrieve your clothes, tug them on. 

“Okay.”

“That’s it?” 

“What do you want me to say, Kestis?” 

He sighs as he reaches for his own clothes. “I don’t know. I don’t know.” 

“You should have left when I told you to,” you say, arms crossed over your chest as you stare out the single window of your home at the rapidly falling dark. 

“Yeah, maybe.” His hand is warm and familiar where he rests it on your shoulder. “You could...come with me.” 

You narrow your eyes. “And have to live by your Jedi code? No thanks.” 

“No code,” he says, quiet, contemplative. “Just the fight.” 

“Just the fight,” you echo. When he nods, something you sense more than see, you sigh. “I could...tag along. Just this once.” 

“Of course,” he says. His lips press against your temple. “Just this once.” 

Swallowing against the strange metallic taste rising to your mouth, you blink and summon the Force. You’re grateful for Cal’s grounding presence behind you. Your signature is...muddied. Marbled black and gold. When you glance down at his hand on your skin, you find that his aura is the same as yours. Mixed. Confused. 

Balanced.

Yes, you think. Hating him would have been easier.

#cal kestis x reader #cal x reader #cal kestis x gn!reader #jedi survivor spoilers #jedi survivor fanfiction #rhiplies #rhiwrites

[multi-fandom-imagine]

A/n: Yessss more Cal, I love him.

Five years….five long years since you’ve seen your favorite red headed Jedi.

You missed Cal, missed his jokes, his smile. The poncho you managed to swipe before you two went your separate ways was started to lose his scent though you couldn’t help but cringed at that thought.

“God I feel like a creep.”

Shaking your head you tugged at the poncho, your head snapping to Mirrian. You weren’t quite sure you should trust the woman’s smile. “Is something wrong?”

Shrugging her shoulders she then turned her back to you. “Cere wants to see you.”

Dropping your shoulders, you bit back a groan. “I was hoping to take a nap.”

“Trust me, you’ll want to be awake for this.”

Shaking your head you tried to wonder what the hell that meant then again you could never tell with Mirrian.

Rolling your shoulders you glanced around the room spotting Cere talking to some guy you didn’t know but your heart nearly stopped seeing who was talking to Greez.

“Cal?”

Hearing his name, Cal’s eyes went wide for a moment before he started to rush towards you and soon you were being lifted off the ground, his arms wrapped tightly around you in for a crushing embrace. “I can’t believe you’re here.” He whispered in your ear.

He was trembling as he held you, he thought he would never see you again. He did his best to look you up but you just vanished and he was to scared to ask the others.

Cal honestly thought you would hate him, maybe you did hate him. Should he even be hugging you?Wincing he then let you down as he stepped back rubbing his neck. “Sorry…..I uh got excited.”

BD-1’s beeps seeming to agree as the little robot jumped at your feet. Shaking your head you laughed for a moment stepping close. “I see you haven’t changed Cal” titling your head you then placed your hand on his cheek, him leaning into your palm.

“Well not all of you are the same, I like the beard and the hair is a nice touch.” You teased.

Letting out the breath he was holding in Cal returned your smile though it turned to confusion once it finally hit him. You were wearing his poncho, one he thought he lost. “Is that…Is that my poncho?”

Feeling warmth creep up your neck you adverted your eyes. “Maybe…it’s been helping me….I can give it-”

Shaking his head, Cal quickly grabbed hold of your hands. “You don’t…You don’t need to give it back, I want you to keep it…it looks good on you.”

It was cute, seeing the red envelope the man’s cheeks though you did see his eyes darken. You’re all to familiar with that look.

Biting your lip you took a step closer, your chest needy touching his. “Can I show you the Archives?”

“I’d like that.”

Grabbing Cal’s hand, you tugged the man towards one of the rooms ignoring Greez shouting at you both.

“Where the hell are they going?! Don’t we-.”

Mirrian hummed Placing her hand on the pilots shoulder, she gave him a smile only glancing to where you two walked off, happy to see her two close friends finally reunited again. “Let them be, they’ll be fine and they’ll be much happier when they return.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean.”

Cere sighed as het shoulder’s slumped. “I just pray they stay far away from our work.”

“Is anyone gonna clue me in on what you two are talkin-.” Seeing the look on Cere and Mirrian’s face Greez’s eyes went wide before he let out a laugh, BD-1 jumping on Mirrian’s shoulder. “Well as long as it’s ain’t the Mantis then I’m happy.”

Though it was Mirrian’s turn to let out a bark of laughter.

“Why are you laughing, why is she laughing Cere.”

Cere shrugged turning away. “I am not getting in on this, let me know when they’ve returned.”

“I just find it funny that you think they haven’t fucked on the ship.”

“Wait! What! You must be lyin! Come on Mirrian! Tell me you’re lyin? Stop walking away Mirrian.”

#drabbles #drabble #blurb #blurbs #cal kestis x reader #cal kestis x y/n #cal kestis x you #cal kestis jedi survivor #cal kestis #jedi survivor #star wars x reader #star wars cal kestis #star wars x you #star wars x y/n #star wars jedi survivor