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jellieland · 1 year

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A week or two after the games, Grian will usually check in with the victor.

It's a habit that's probably more for his own benefit than anyone else's. But it is, he thinks, a good habit nonetheless.

After all, as fun as it all is, things can get a bit... intense, towards the end, and it's good for his peace of mind to make sure the last one standing is ok with how things shook out.

Nothing much has ever really come of it before; they're all pretty resilient. He doubts this time’ll be different. Except- well.

Something about it all itches at the back of his mind, and he hasn’t been able to work out why. There was the actual ending, of course, but also Grian may have been whispering in Martyn's ear about how boring that final showdown was turning out to be, and how narratively satisfying it would be if he just betrayed the other two and got it over with, so.

If nothing else, it feels like he's got no reason to break with tradition.

There's just one more concern.

Martyn seems to have made it almost impossible to contact him.

It's not... unheard of, for players to keep to themselves most of the time, especially when it comes to those they don’t share a server with. It seems a little uncharacteristic of Martyn, but the last time Grian saw him outside the games was before they even started, so maybe he does things differently these days.

There are certainly a great many reasons why that could be the case, most of which are perfectly sensible.

But Grian's never been able to resist picking at a puzzle put in front of him, whether the puzzle likes it or not, so he is going to talk to Martyn. And he can just see what happens, and worry about any consequences if and when they appear.

Luckily, he already has a way to do just that.

He doesn't usually need to do this - although it is very funny to startle Scar or Mumbo with it sometimes when they're concentrating. Honestly it's usually less effective than communicators, with how much effort it takes.

But he does have a way. The same way he used to whisper in Martyn's ear very recently, in fact.

He reaches out, away from his home, away from his body, and it feels a little like simultaneously overextending himself, and putting his foot down on a step he thought was flat ground.

That is... not how this usually feels.

It's odd. Rather unnerving.

But it works.

He finds Martyn. Watches the vague shape of him solidify into something more real.

He’s still wearing his red life outfit, for some reason. His eyes are closed. Around his head, the coral curls like a blood-red crown.

“What do you think you're playing at?” Asks Grian.

Martyn blinks his eyes open slowly, looking less confused than Grian would expect for someone hearing a disembodied voice out of nowhere. “Oh good.” He says dryly. “You again.”

He squawks indignantly. “Hey, what's that supposed to mean?”

There is silence for a few seconds.

“...Hey.” Martyn says, and as flippant as he suddenly sounds, he looks as thrown off balance as Grian feels. “Not sure who this is, but I think you might have the wrong number!”

“I think that's unlikely.” He deadpans. “Where are you? I haven't been able to get hold of you.”

“Uh-” There's a short pause as he looks around at wherever he is right now. “Falling into endless nothingness, looks like. Same old, same old, am I right?”

Grian rolls his eyes. “Yeah, ok. Well, I suppose you don't have to tell me.” A part of him makes a note of Martyn’s wording, though. Just in case.

“...Hm. Well, not gonna lie, I do appreciate the change of pace, but I would love to know what exactly you want from me. You know, just on the off chance that you feel like giving me any clues.”

It's at this point that Grian remembers: one of the main reasons this method of communication is good for messing with people is that it makes him sound, um. A little different. And while he can see Martyn, it’s not as if Martyn can see him.

...Best to just pretend that hadn't slipped his mind.

“You do realize this is Grian, right?” He asks, as though it ought to be obvious.

“Riiight, yeah, sure.” Says Martyn. “And I'm also Grian, did you know that?”

“Oh for- what, do you want me to tell you some secret only the two of us would know, or something?”

“Nah.” Says Martyn. “That wouldn't work.”

“Elaborate.” Says Grian, through gritted teeth.

“You know what? I don't think I will!” Replies Martyn brightly.

Grian takes a deep breath in through his nose. “I'm beginning to wonder why I bother.” He grinds out.

Martyn snorts. “Tell me about it.”

There's a short silence.

“But- ok.” He continues. “Just suppose for the sake of argument that you are Grian.”

“...Yes?” Asks Grian warily.

“I have a question for you.”

“...Yeeees?” Asks Grian, even more warily.

The silence stretches for several long moments.

“What's up?” Asks Martyn.

“Yeah ok, this isn’t worth it, I'm leaving now.”

“Wait! No, I'm serious!” Under the amusement, there's a note of something that sounds almost like nervousness in his voice. It's uncharacteristic. Unnerving.

“What are you talking about?” Asks Grian, trying very hard to keep his voice at least mostly free of annoyance.

“Oh, you know! What's going on, what's the deal, what'd you want to talk to me for?” There's a slight hesitation. “You need help or something?”

“I- ok. That's actually sort of relevant. It's really nothing too complicated, Martyn.” He says, grumpily. “All I wanted to do was make sure you're good with what happened at the end of the last game.”

Martyn blinks, and goes very still.

There is a long silence - long enough that Grian starts to feel concerned.

And then Martyn laughs.

It's not a nice laugh.

“Good, huh. You want to know if I’m good with it. That sure is an interesting choice of words.”

“...How so?” He asks, guardedly.

“Grian. Grian, I’m not sure if you remember this, but I won. I won this one, Grian.” Every word he says, however restrained, sounds like it’s had to claw its way out of him. He glares at nothing. “And guess what? It's just like the others. I don’t really care enough for any of it to matter to me, anymore, and that's fine by me.”

Now that's... a lot to unpack. “You- I'm sorry?”

“Well that makes one of us then, doesn't it?” His voice is coated with scorn.

“What are you talking about?”

“Do you actually think I’m going to explain myself to you?” He asks, looking half-amused. “You, of all people?”

“Well unfortunately, Martyn, I can’t exactly put Ren on the line, so I’m afraid I’m all you’re going to get.” He snaps, and instantly regrets it when he sees the look in Martyn’s eyes.

There is a short silence.

Grian shifts uncomfortably. He’s not going to apologize, obviously. But. Well. “That... ok, maybe that was a bit much.” He says.

“...Little bit, yeah.”

There is another silence.

After a while, Martyn speaks.

“I would’ve betrayed him too, you know.” He says coolly.

“What, Ren?”

“Yeah. At the drop of a hat. Soon as it was convenient.”

“I mean sure, I suppose?” Says Grian, caught off guard. “You didn’t, though. Did you? When you had the chance.”

“Eh.” He shrugs, as though that’s an irrelevant detail. “It would’ve been more dramatic later. You know how it is.”

...There's no real way he can justify saying no to that, is there? “Yeah.” He says. “I guess I do.”

He tries to picture the King, betrayed. The Hand, triumphant.

“I dunno, though.” He says, thoughtful. “I don’t think you ever could’ve done it, to be honest. Not in the first one. Whatever it was you were planning, it was just never how that story was going to go.”

“That’s not true.” He says it just slightly too fast. “I know that’s not true.”

Grian scoffs. “You know thinking about something isn’t the same as doing it, right?”

“What, no, really?” He rolls his eyes. “You don’t say!”

“What I’m saying,” He lets his voice turn biting, “Is that you’re being stupid.”

Martyn lets out a startled laugh. It’s surprisingly genuine. “Wow. You’re really bad at this, dude.”

Grian bristles. “Well why am I the one who has to do it then? Why don’t you talk to someone else, if you hate talking to me so much?”

“I mean…” He makes an unconvinced noise. “Obvious problems aside, when do you even expect me to do that? We usually have other things to worry about.”

“I don’t know, maybe at literally any point between the games?” He sighs exasperatedly. “There’s no way you’re that busy.”

“Between the games?” Martyn asks incredulously, and Grian suddenly feels as though something dangerous is hovering over their heads, just about to drop. “What do you mean, between the games?”

“I mean between the games! Like- now! What do you think this is, right now, if it’s not between the games?” He snaps.

“This right now?” He looks nonplussed. “I think we’re usually asleep for most of this bit. Or possibly we forget about it. As you can probably imagine, it’s hard to know for sure.”

“Now I know that’s not true.” He says firmly, ignoring the unease trying to creep up on him. “I know I do stuff between games, and I know I don’t just forget about it. That makes no sense.”

“I mean, I don't necessarily mean everything between the games, more just this specifically.” He gestures around at nothing. “That gets more complicated, though. But you- hm.” He looks curious. “That’s interesting. Where even are you, then, at the moment?”

“I’m at home! Which is where I thought everyone else was too!”

Martyn seems to consider this for a few moments, and then he frowns, and then his expression goes blank. “…Oh.” He says. “Yeah. No, that… makes sense, actually. Yeah. You’re probably right.”

“Wha- what do you mean? Right about what?”

“Everyone probably went home. Or, at least, they thought they did. And hey, what’s the difference, when you get right down to it?”

“...Ok, I’m going to ignore the second part for now, I already got past that little existential crisis after Ren and Doc’s whole… thing… in season eight- if you think everyone went home, why are you- what was it you said- ‘falling into endless nothingness’?”

There’s another pause.

“...You’re really gonna make me say it, huh? That seems cruel, even for you.”

“Wait, no, what do you-”

“Where else do you think I would go?” It sounds less like an admission and more like an accusation. “What ‘home’ do you think I have left, Grian?”

“Look.” Snaps Grian, feeling vaguely tricked. “It’s not my fault that you-”

“Yeah, it never is, is it?” He glares into the darkness. “It’s always a tragic inevitability with you, never a choice you’re making. That way you get to stab people in the back and pretend to be sad about it. Best of both worlds, huh?”

Grian splutters for a few seconds. “Why are you being so rude to me??”

“Because you’re you and I’m me.” He smirks. “Don’t know what you expected, honestly.”

“Oh yeah? Who’s hiding behind inevitability now?” Grian retorts, perhaps a trifle vindictively.

“I never said I wasn’t a hypocrite, sometimes. Also, I never said I felt bad about it.” He replies levelly, and all at once, they’re talking about something else.

“You didn’t need to say it.” Snaps Grian. “You might be good at lying but you’re not perfect. I could see in your face that it hurt.”

He narrows his eyes. “It felt good, actually.”

“Wow, good for you.” He says, almost amused suddenly. “You didn’t say I was wrong, though.”

His expression twists into something unreadable. “I know you, Grian. Like recognizes like.” He says, voice low and dangerous. “You’re a liar.”

Grian shrugs, despite the fact that Martyn will not see it. “And you’re a coward. Your point?”

“I don’t need to justify myself to someone who refuses to admit that he could have chosen to be better, if he’d ever wanted to.” He spits out.

“Hey, at least I don’t try and convince myself I’m a monster just because I want to survive.”

That one strikes something tender; he can tell. “Right, yeah, and you’re just a blameless angel and everyone you cut down had it coming, I’m sure.”

“I didn’t say that. But since you bring it up… how many people did you give up your time for, again?” He grins. “Is it less than one? Because I think it is. I think I’ve got you beat there, Martyn.”

“And where did it get you?” He snarls.

“Home, in the end.”

Martyn flinches back as though he’s been struck.

“Did you forget about that part?” Asks Grian.

There’s a long pause.

Martyn fidgets with the end of the banner he wears around his waist, pulling at where the white threads are coming undone. He stares out into the darkness. “Yeah.” He says. “I guess I did.”

The satisfaction of winning the argument feels less potent, suddenly.

“You’re right.” Says Grian, after a while. “I’m really bad at this.”

Martyn laughs quietly. “To be fair, I’m not exactly helping.”

“You’re really not.”

He sighs. “You know pulling the knife out just makes the wound start bleeding again, don’t you? That’s all we’re doing here. That’s all we’re going to do to each other. We’re too alike to do anything else, unless we just don’t do anything. And hey, we’re not great at that either.”

“Hmm.” Says Grian begrudgingly. “I’d say something about inevitability again, but I honestly don’t think you’re wrong.”

“We both just enjoy pushing buttons too much to be particularly good at not pushing them, I guess.” Martyn sounds half-amused, half-resigned.

Grian makes an irritated noise. “Yes, alright, I don’t need another reminder of the whole button debacle.”

There is more silence.

After a while, Grian speaks again. “There’s something I was wondering about, actually.”

“Oh yeah?” Martyn raises an eyebrow.

“What’s the reason?” He asks.

“You’re gonna have to be more specific with that one, mate.”

“‘This is a death match for a reason.’” He says matter-of-factly. “That’s what you said. So- what is it? What’s the reason?”

Martyn blinks, then lets out a short, harsh laugh. “You think I know that?”

“No, not really. That’s why I wondered what you meant when you said it.”

“It- look. I don’t know if you’re expecting philosophy from me, or something. It’s a death game. People die, and it doesn’t have to mean anything. It doesn’t have to be special, it doesn’t have to be honourable, it doesn’t have to be fair. That’s what I meant.” He frowns. “You know that.”

“I do.” He admits.

“Then why ask?” Martyn looks around as though this time, somehow, he might be able to find Grian’s face in the dark.

He doesn’t.

“I just-” Grian sighs. “What do you want?” He asks. “What do you actually want, Martyn?”

The question sits heavy in the darkness between them.

“What do you want me to say?” Martyn asks. He sounds more tired than Grian’s ever heard him.

“I want you to tell the truth.” Grian says. He needs to know. He needs to know.

“Now, Grian.” Says Martyn, voice gently chiding. “Have you met me? You know I can’t do that.”

“Pretend it’s a lie, then.”

Martyn’s grip on the banner he wears tightens, slightly. There is a long, long silence.

“Or how about,” Says Grian, eventually, “You say something, and I won’t know whether it’s a lie or not.”

There is another pause.

Martyn frowns at the red of the fabric in his hands, as though it might offer him something.

As far as Grian can tell, it does not.

He’s just beginning to give up hope of ever getting an answer when Martyn speaks, so softly he almost doesn’t hear it.

“I want it to be warm again.” He says.

It’s quiet.

For a moment – just a moment, no more – Grian remembers bloody, aching fists. He remembers burning heat.

“Well.” He says. “That makes one of us, then. Doesn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Says Martyn, voice low. “I guess it does.”

There’s another short second of silence before Martyn speaks again, sounding cheerful. “So, suppose I’ll see you in the next one, huh? If that ever happens.” He grins. “Wanna take bets on how hard Scott’ll have to try not to win it? I’m gonna go with very.”

Grian snorts. “I’m not taking that bet. That man is infuriatingly good at surviving.”

“You’re not wrong! You are not wrong.” He gestures into the void. “And don’t even get me started on Timmy’s whole thing, I think we both know how that one’s gonna go. Unless you want to bet against him being gone first next time round?”

“You’re not Scar.” Says Grian. “There’s no way you talk anyone into taking that bet in a million years. Except maybe Timmy.”

“Fair, fair.”

There’s a short pause.

Grian hesitates for a moment before he speaks – almost, but not quite, reluctant. “Why do you keep looking back?” He asks. “There’s nothing left for us there. You know that, right?”

“I mean, let me know when you find a better place to look.” He tilts his head to the side slightly, curious, and frowns. “Do you really never want to go back?”

“No.” Says Grian. “Never.”

Martyn opens his mouth, and then, uncharacteristically, closes it again. “Yeah.” He says. “Me neither.”

Grian is tempted, momentarily, to tell Martyn to take the banner off and let it go. Let the darkness take it. Prove it.

But just like Martyn, he lets it drop.

Mutually assured destruction is a potent thing.

Now all he has to do is the hard part. The part he’s dreading most of all.

The main concern is phrasing it correctly. Making it sound just how he wants it to sound.

After some thought, he thinks he’s found the words he's looking for.

He could always be wrong, though. He’s usually more one for incredible violence than smooth talking.

“Martyn?” He asks cautiously, casually. “Do you want me to help you?”

The expression that crosses Martyn’s face is unreadable.

He processes the question for a few moments, before he answers.

“Nah. I’m good.” He says, voice guarded. “Don’t worry about it.”

And that’s the rub, isn’t it.

Because now Grian has to decide whether he’s going to let Martyn lie to him or not.

Whether he’s going to pass the test that’s been set before him, or not.

...

Grian’s not a monster.

He’s just realistic.

There's nothing he could do, anyway.

“Well.” He says levelly. “Just let me know if that changes.”

(Martyn would do the same to him. It’s not a justification, or an excuse. But he knows it to be true.)

Martyn stares out into the darkness. His eyes are almost, but not quite, resentful. “Sure thing, man. Why wouldn’t I.”

It’s not said like a question, so Grian doesn’t answer it. “Well, you know I can’t stay here forever.”

“I do know that.”

“Any messages you want me to pass on to any of the hermits? I know you haven’t seen Mumbo in a while.” It’s not really a compromise, or a peace offering. Hopefully, however, it’s close enough to one or the other of those to act in their stead.

Martyn closes his eyes. Breathes in. Breathes out. Opens his eyes again. “If you were Grian, then maybe.” His gaze is cold. “But I think this hypothetical has gone on long enough.”

...It’s a lot easier for both of them, if Martyn believes that.

He’s positive Martyn knows that.

Just this once, perhaps he can manage to not look a gift horse in the mouth.

“For what it’s worth,” He says, looking away, “I moved on from the Bad Boys when it got too expensive to keep them alive.”

“It’s not worth a lot.” Says Martyn flatly. “And it would be worth even less coming from Grian.”

Grian sighs. “Alright. Fine. I’ll see you around, Martyn.”

“I know.” Says Martyn. He closes his eyes.

After a few moments, Grian does too.

When he opens them, he’s home.

…

Oh, that doesn’t feel good.

It really doesn't.

He could dwell on this. It wouldn’t be hard. He could drown himself in guilt over what he’s done, or not done, or will not do.

But- well.

Grian never really saw the point in letting someone else drag you down with them.

#once he's sure that the thing he's decided to pretend was not grian is gone #martyn goes back to falling #and wishes he still felt enough grief to be able to cry.#limited life smp #life series #grian #martyn inthelittlewood #my writing #i finally managed to finish this. it took me. a while.#they're narrative foils to the point of absurdity is the thing #they're incredibly similar and also completely different #it's fascinating

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totaly-obsessed · 8 months

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can you write something for mary when she could be having a bad day or something and the reader helps cheer her up

Lucky Gloves

Mary Earps x reader request

-> Mary just needs her girlfriend after a hard day, but it's date night

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

You were late.

Not that you really had somewhere to be, it was more just an annoyance – it was date night. Every Thursday the two of you would go out together, just a little tradition you had carried through two years of dating each other.

“I’m sorry love, let me get changed quickly, and then we can be off.” You rushed into the house, not even seeing Mary anywhere but you were far too stressed to notice.

Ten minutes later, now changed out of your teacher attire you started to look for Mary when she was not read by the door like she usually was. “Mary?” You could not hear an immediate response, furthering your panic. “Baby?”

“Hmm?”

Ah. There she was.

But after following her vague noises you did not find her in a casual-chic outfit ready to wine and dine you like she usually did. “Mary? Love, why are you still wearing your training stuff?”

The goalkeeper did not answer aside from a deep groan as she burrowed her face deeper into your favorite fluffy blanket. Wordlessly you sat down next to the couch on the ground, rubbing her back. “Baby? Are you okay?”

Finally, she turned her head, now facing you. Tired puffy eyes meeting your own. “Sorry love. Let me get dressed.” With cracking bones your girlfriend started sitting up, not expecting you to throw yourself on top of her.

With you straddling her lap, hugging her close to you, she had no way of leaving. Of course, she could just stand up with you on her hip, but she would never use her strength like that, too scared that she would hurt you.

A couple of minutes of careful coaxing and cooing in her ears let the brunette finally relax, nuzzling her face into your warm neck – humming with contentment. “What’s up with you my love, huh?”

Mary would never admit it to her teammates, no matter how much she loved them, but here in your shared home, with you on her lap was the only place that she would ever call home. “Had a really shitty day.”

“Awwh, I’m sorry honey. Why don’t you take a shower and get changed into comfy clothes and I’ll get us some food, huh?”

As good as that sounded, it was Thursday, and it was the goalkeeper's turn to choose the place to eat, and she didn’t want to disappoint you. You, who had shitty days all the time and never needed to be treated like a baby. “But it’s Thursday baby. It’s my tu-“

The blonde couldn’t whine further as she was shut up with her favorite lips giving her a soft kiss. “Nonsense love – quiet night in. Doctor’s order!”

A soft laugh escaped her chest, letting you relax just a little. “Who’s my doctor then?”

“Me of course – silly girl!” Your blatant lie of being a doctor only made the older woman laugh harder, pushing you off her lap. “Alright then.”

Twenty minutes later you were changed into one of Mary’s ‘MAE27’ shirts, fuzzy socks, and some shorts that definitely weren’t yours either. “Supporting me, I see.”

Warm arms wrapped themselves around your waist, Mary’s head finding its favorite place in the crook of your neck, peppering kisses wherever she could. “I’ll always support you, baby.” And she knew you meant it, even without the deep kiss that followed your silent promise – but she was thankful for it either way.

Mary laid the cutlery down on the couch table, ignoring your perfectly made dining space, opting for comfort instead.

So here you were, each a bowl of your favorite soup in your lap while the goalkeeper’s feet kept digging into your sides.

“So, you wanna tell me what’s made your day so bad then, love?” You had both finished your bowls, so Mary took it upon herself to steal yours from you, setting them both down on the table before laying back on the couch – pulling you on top of her.

Your front pressed snuggly against yours as her prize-winning hands found their place in your hair, giving you a massage.

“This morning I woke up without you – bad enough. Then I couldn’t find my lucky gloves and spilled my coffee. So I wanted to go to that tiny shop down the road, yeah? I get there – closed! Can you imagine? So I get to training and all Mark did was yell at me, fucking hate that prick. And then Ella – goddamn Tooney goes and fucking lobs me. The cheek the girl has! And, oh my god, she didn’t shut up about it!”

Mary’s rant continued for a while, finally getting everything off her chest. But no matter how shitty her day was, here in your arms life was perfect.

#woso x reader #woso imagine #woso #engwnt x reader #woso imagines #lionesses x reader #mary earps x reader #mary earps #man united wfc x reader

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justgowithitplease · 3 months

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omg lunch club schlatt anything would be amazing i love him sm

LC!Schlatt HC's!! SFW Platonic, Crushing, Dating

Platonic

Best friend LC!Schlatt drives the extra five minutes just so you can go to the restaurant location with the better chips

On every LC outing he'll take you with them or he'll get you a 'souvenir'

It's a rock from each place they go. Just a rock. Not even a pretty or special rock. A grey lump of hard sediment.

He made sure you had your own tent for the Misfits camping videos you were comfortable

Makes you a stock holder is Gamersupps and Schlatt Coin

Matching bracelets which are just those weird paper/plastic bands from when you guys went to a concert together (he had to cut it off because it got too tight but it's framed in his house along with a Polaroid of you two)

He takes SO MANY POLAROIDS

ATP he's used like,,,,, 12 packs of film for you two

Everyone teases him about liking you

Which is stupid

He doesn't like you

Totally

Crushing

He drives to the further restaurant because it means spending more time with you

And he doesn't just get you rocks when you can't go on LC trips with him. He'll get you random little trinkets to hide around your house

Yes, there's a shelf of grey rocks, but there's also a batman rubber duck on your counter that you can't remember how you got it. Must've just always been there

He did honestly care enough to get you your own tent, but he couldn't resist making sure it was put right next to his

He knows rents reasonable where you are, and he knows that your job pays well, but what if you accidentally turn the gas on for the water heater up and your bill is crazy expensive?

His companies are already making him thousands upon millions, so why shouldn't he share the wealth with the person he adores?

Buys tickets to all your favorite concerts because sometimes (always) you look pretty in the multicolored lights

He frames the concert pass-band with a Polaroid of you stealing his drink because when he's a bit too drunk and it's a bit too late, he can allow himself to think that you're in his arms instead of his pillow, or that you're next to him and not someone who vaguely resembled you at the bar

He keeps all the Polaroids he takes of you, but has one that's specifically his favorite

It's a Polaroid of him and you at the camping trip, and you're thrown over his shoulder as you drag a tree branch behind him

Cooper took it, and he had to beg to have it

Dating

He'd be such a sweet boyfriend

All the head kisses you could ever want

As a fairly tall person, he has definitely experienced the sleeve problem where long sleeves are never long enough

This causes him to have to buy overly large sweatshirts or hoodies

Any time he gets a new one, you get the old one, so your closet is filled with hoodies and sweatshirts

For dates where you guys go out, he'd take you to the movies, to county faires, really any 'cheesy romcom' date place

But a favorite is having Mexican every Friday together

It's something to look forward too at the end of the week

Once you guys are dating, he'll get you more than just rocks as souvenirs

Usually a hoodie that he got from wherever he went

He stayed in your tent during the camping video

He really just sat in there and stayed up to make sure you were safe

Labels Schlatt and Co. as a 'Family Owned Business' because you guys are gonna be married to each other because you're soulmates destined to be together forever (his (drunken) words) so why not

The matching concert bracelets in the frame got moved to his bedside table so he can look at it each night

Yes, everyone teases him about the drunken rants of how much he loves you and how perfect your wedding will be, but it's sweet the way he describes it

#jschlatt x reader #jschlatt #lc!schlatt #schlatt x reader #schlatt #lunchclub schlatt #lunch club #smplive #chuckle sammy #chuckle sandwich #chuckle sandwich x reader #x reader #hc #my hcs #hcs

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songmingisthighs · 1 year

Text

Pretty Cute

group : ateez

pairing : yunho × reader

genre : smut

word count : 3.4 k

warning : mdni, explicit smut, yunho and (y/n)'s kind of a perv, mutual pining, cnc ((y/n)'s a horny drunk), somnophilia, sex (not piv; fingering), slight hint of size kink?

a/n : happy late LATE yuyu day <3 i wrote this impulsively and i was gonna post it on yunho's birthday but things got in the way and suddenly it felt weird writing smut in my state. but hey, i hope this makes up for my absence!

buy me coffee ?

Both you and Yunho came home giggling through the door, courtesy of the alcohol you both drank earlier. Your steps were wobbly and staggered as you tried walking into your apartment with your best friend in tow, trying to catch up with you. Seeing this, Yunho giggled and pulled you by your shoulders so you could lean on him slightly as you both managed to take your shoes off sagely and proceed further into the apartment. "Okay, we gotta be careful because you're stumbling, mumbling, grumbling, tumbling, schcumbling..." Yunho's giggle made you giggle as well, thinking that he sounded both ridiculous and absolutely hilarious for some reason. But you just let him stick by you because you love his presence and even more so when you were drunk.

It had been a custom for Yunho to be very touchy with you both in public and in private as he was your teddy retriever and you were his... (y/n). Even earlier at the bar, you enjoyed the feeling of him with a hand behind you resting on the bar as his body towered over you, covering you from most of the people at the club. You sipped your vodka cranberry happily which gave you warmth from the inside while he provided you with warmth from the outside, your exposed legs didn't feel as exposed even after Wooyoung made a vaguely inappropriate comment about them. He might be one of your best friends but he was still a boneheaded idiot that you love so much.

People thought that it was weird how touchy and open you were to each other, some even thinking that you both had dated. Fact is, you wouldn't deny him if he asked you out, but you didn't know if he felt that way about you. Sure, he was nice to you, but so was he to everyone else. What makes you so special? Other than the occasional (very freaking often) compliments and remarks about how he would be so lucky if he was able to call you his wherever you show him your outfits or your accomplishments, you were doubtful that he would see you in a romantic way.

Plopping onto the couch, you both rested at each end with your legs propped on his lap and his hands resting on your shin. "God, we over did it tonight," the moan you let out turned into a soft hum when you felt his hands slowly caressing the skin under his touch as he chuckled, "Speak for yourself, I can still take a couple more beers in me," he teased. You narrowed your eyes at him in mock judgment, "Sure, Giggly Giggleson, you DEFINITELY didn't drink too much even when you started flirting with me." Yunho bit his bottom lip at the mention of him flirting with you earlier, giddy that you actually noticed that he was indeed flirting and wasn't just being friendly as he intended. "How can I not when you were sitting there looking so devastatingly beautiful and delicious," his tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip and your eyes couldn't help but focus on its movement, sure that his bottom lip was not the only wet lip at that moment in time. But you shook your head slightly to prevent yourself from saying something stupid like blurting out how much you want his tongue shoved down your throat. To mask your inner turmoil, you rolled your eyes and snap your leg at him in mock annoyance to which he just chuckled.

The movement you made shifted the position of your mini skirt, not realizing that it had ridden up slightly. Thankfully, Yunho was gentlemanly enough to pull it back to its original position and length, of course after battling his inner urge to just pull it further up and expose your panties to him that he know for sure would be very adorable. "You're wearing a short skirt, (y/n), you gotta be careful," he pointed out, putting his hands back to where they were so his mind wouldn't focus on what was under the skirt. You rolled your eyes and moved to straddle his lap, surprising Yunho but his hands somehow found purchase on your hips in a secured grip. "There's no one here but you, Yunnie," when you draped your hands on his shoulders, Yunho was sure that you could feel his erection forming and was just screwing with him. But in case you didn't, he wanted to play it safe. "Which is even more reason why you need to be careful," Yunho leaned to peck you on the nose which caused warmth to bloom in your chest and a rosy tint to spread to your cheeks from the spot where Yunho planted his lips on. "And why is that?" You asked, eyes glimmering with slight hope, "Because you're my best friend and you're so irresistable in this skirt. If you shake your cute lil' butt at me one more time I might not be able to hold myself back from seeing what's under your slutty little skirt."

Hearing Yunho said that made you automatically wet and you had to feign rolling your eyes and pushing Yunho's face away as you got off him to excuse yourself to the bathroom. While you tried to calm yourself in the bathroom, Yunho defeatedly covered his eyes with his arms, totally embarrassed and slightly regretting that he said that in the first place. But he was right, though, he had sported a boner as a result from you sitting on top of him, knowing full well that your cunt was separated from his cock by a couple layer of clothing items. Fuck, he was so close to feeling you. With a groan, Yunho depleted into the couch, with his eyes closed, he thought of what he was going to say to you.

Meanwhile, in the bathroom, you were screaming into your bunched up towel, absolutely wrecked by Yunho's words. Sure, you wore it because you remembered Yunho being so absolutely transfixed with the item when you both went shopping merely a couple days ago. Your plan was in motion and you don't know how to feel about that as you were sure your chances of success was no bigger than 32%. The occassional ass glancing was normal, but a full blown confession that Yunho wanted to devour your cunt made your arousal leak out of you like a broken faucet. So before you throw caution out the window, you thought it would be best to calm yourself down a bit.

Your inebriated state dulled your sense of time because when you finally got out of the bathroom, you saw Yunho on the couch, sleeping with his arms above his head. Pouting from disappointment, you walked over to him and stood by his side, thinking about what you're supposed to do now. Should you wake him up? Should you tuck him in? What if he thought what happened was just a dream and he forgot about it? But he looked so peaceful and calm and so so pretty, how could you even consider waking him up?

Yunho truly looked beautiful when he slept; his long lashes that you're so jealous of, his fair complexity, his plump lips. You had to remind yourself that Yunho was asleep and despite his confession earlier, you should try to hold yourself back from mauling him. No matter how hard it was for you. Though as your eyes trailed from his face to his neck, then his chest, then his shoulders and arms, and finally landed on his fingers, you swallowed the lump that formed in your throat. It was long, pretty, and you know how some men have a severe case of man hands that made their fingers look stumpy and unappealing, but not Yunho. His fingers are just like his body, dainty and flexible yet they oddly enhances his masculinity. And for the life of you, you really do want to know how he would use them on you. Phantom feelings of Yunho's grip on your ass from earlier resurfaced and you shuddered at the memory, remembering how they were firm and possessive yet gentle and careful, it made you feel dangerous but provided a sense of safety as if telling you that you could trust him. And you do.

Without realizing, you had taken steps closer to his outstretched hand, standing so close to it that he was barely grazing you. For some reason, you could feel the warmth radiating from him even just from his digits. Your mind started wondering how exactly he would grab you and where. Your legs? Your knees? Your ankles? Or is he the type to spread you open by pinning your legs on the sides using his body? His wide shoulders would've definitely spread you open easily and it's not like you wouldn't open your legs for him. How can you not? It's Yunho for fuck's sake, your hot as fuck best friend who you sometimes (a lot of times) thought of whilst touching yourself.

As if he knew, Yunho stirred in his sleep which made you freeze in your spot, not wanting him to see what you were doing. He moved whilst still in his unconscious state and his hands moved slightly which unfortunately for you, pressed into your inner thigh with his soft palm making contact with the suddenly sensitive skin. Your body coiled from the touch and you couldn't help but let out a whimper. Everything felt so close yet so far all of a sudden and you wanted more. Though, you were fully aware that you shouldn't because Yunho was dead to the world and it would be wrong. But it felt so. so right and when else will you be getting a chance like this? Though, it didn't feel right as you weren't sure if he was okay with it or not. But he was just... Right there. Despite your better judgement, with your alcohol-soaked brain, your body seemed to move on its own before you could even make a coherent decision. The moment you realized what you were doing, you were already grinding against Yunho's arm with a lump forming in your throat. The guilt was making your stomach churn but you just couldn't stop what you were already doing. Even more so, you even moved down a bit so you could feel Yunho's long fingers directly on your covered slit. You had to cover your mouth with both your hands to suppress your moans because you didn't want him to wake up seeing you like that. Or you just didn't want any irrefutable reason to stop.

Unfortunately for you, your plans didn't go accordingly. Too busy with your ministration, you didn't realize Yunho slowly woke up with fluttering eyes and head slightly clearer than before. Ironically, the first thing that popped into his head was what you were doing as he had yet to realize that you were pleasuring yourself (or testing how you think he would pleasure you) on him. So when his consciousness finally came back wholly, the first thing he realized was something warm on his hand and something soft on his skin. "What the," Yunho craned his head slightly to see you with one hand covering your mouth and the other lifting your skirt as you ground yourself on his hand like a bitch in heat. A bitch with the neediest moans and the cutest pair of panties. God, was this a dream? Was this an imagination? Should he call on you and see if either you disappeared or he woke up in his bed with a raging boner? Or should he test the reality out himself?

Once again, your body froze when you felt something probing your cunt over the pathetic, flimsy excuse of a material. Your head snapped forward to see Yunho with his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes zeroed in on your crotch as if it was the most entertaining show ever. Or as if it was Fluffy, the three-headed dog as per his interest. "Yunho," the call made Yunho's eyes flit up to your eyes but his hand never stopped its movements on your, now that you took notice of it, sensitive pussy. You realized that you should have added something after calling him and you were sure you had the words at the tip of your tongue but when his damn middle finger slipped into your panties and started probing in your hole, you could actually feel your brain stalled and your tongue rolled into your throat.

It seemed like it would go on forever, the gaze you shared with Yunho, which made the fire that was starting in your chest grew considerably in a short span of time. From your perspective, you couldn't help but look at how lust-filled his eyes were, how he seemed hungry for you. He looked absolutely hot and maybe it was because you had never seen him look like that or look at you like that. It was a good thing though because even from just seeing it once, you know you couldn't get enough. From Yunho's side, he was taking his damn sweet time enjoying the way you look falling apart with only his fingers. Not that you knew about it, but he had a fair amount of experience imagining you under him, being used by and for him. He had even imagined you riding him like a cowboy making all sorts of noises from how good he felt inside you and also from the praises that he was giving you. Sure, he would like to praise you right then and there but by God, he was just so awestruck at how you looked and sounded. It was even better than his imagination, it was more than what he imagined. And he needed more.

Snapping you out of your pleasure-induced state, Yunho ripped your panties off easily and pulled you into his lap with a single gasp that escaped your lips. You barely registered the pieces of flimsy panties on the floor when Yunho pulled you so close that your noses were touching. "Don't worry, I'll buy cuter, frillier, and sexier panties for you," a chill ran up your spine when Yunho licked your bottom lip with a smug smirk on his face, "And you're going to do a little runway show for me then." With better positioning, Yunho was able to fully slip two of his thick and long fingers inside you with one swift move all thanks to your slick cunt. "Shi- fuck," you whimpered out as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, you felt your thighs tense up at how good Yunho's fingers were filling you and it was ridiculous because it was just his damn fingers. The sight of you on top of him was like a valuable renaissance art because it's dirty yet classy and he truly loved the physical proof of how he affected you so. Yunho used his free hand to flip your cute tiny skirt up to reveal the sight of your pussy absolutely devouring his digits. He loved it, he loved it so much, and he loved you so much. But that confession is for another time when his fingers are not up in you and he didn't want to make your arousal drip out of your cunt and drench his arm.

"I want to see you fuck yourself on my finger baby, make a show for me," Yunho felt his dick twitch in his pants when you let out a breathy whimper and your bottom lip quivered so adorably. "Show Yunnie how much he can make a mess of you," he demanded. Your heart dropped to your stomach when he used the nickname you used on him in a sexual way. Hearing that automatically made your hands move to his shoulders, anchoring your position as you began fucking yourself on his fingers. You were glad that he started with two because you didn't know how you were supposed to do it with three or more without your legs giving out. But you wanted to do your best to show him what you were capable of doing. Or maybe what he was capable of doing to you.

"Fuck I love your fingers Yunnie," you moaned out as your head dropped back, exposing your neck to Yunho which he utilized to plant his lips on your neck to begin marking you. Your grip on his shoulders tightened considerably when he delivered a particular suck and your mind immediately raced to imagine how that same suck would feel on your clit. Better yet, how he would look with his chin wet with your arousal between your legs. Just the thoughts made your pussy clench and your mouth drooled slightly, something Yunho didn't miss for even a second. With a chuckle sent through the skin of your neck, your body shuddered with the vibration that felt like electricity in your body. Along with your bouncing, as you fucked yourself on his fingers, your hips rolled forward when he pressed the heel of his palm on your clit, furthering your pleasure to the point that it was almost unbearable. "I- I wanna cum," you mumbled, biting your bottom lip to suppress a squeal when Yunho curled his fingers in you, accidentally grazing your g-spot. "Come on then baby, cum on my fingers and show me how much you're a good girl you are," he made a show of biting your upper chest through your sweater, dulling any pain but making your skin tingle. "You are, a good girl, right? A good, good girl in the tiniest skirt that you wear to tease any and all men that look in your way," he teased so smugly, loving how you seem to shrink under his words and he just loved it. He loves your tiny self (though metaphorically) in your tiny clothes that accentuate your everything and just drove him absolutely nuts. Your head shook quickly as you fucked yourself quicker and harder on his fingers with his palm still stimulating your clit, "No, no, no, Yunnie, just you. Only you. I wear this tiny, slutty skirt just for you," you spoke but your voice sounded small and breathy, exasperation beyond obvious to you and him. "Fuck, you'll be the death of me," Yunho grunted, thinking how much he was going to ravage you after this.

With a single push, Yunho managed to reposition you to be on your back with your head against the other armrest, legs spread open for him on his lap to provide easy access. "You better cum now, okay?" was all the warning you got before he fucked your hole even quicker than you were fucking yourself before. The slick you produced lubricated his movements effectively as well as letting out obnoxious, sloppy, sloshing sounds that told him just how wet you were. Yunho was definitely going to find a day (or night) soon enough just dedicated to eating you out.

You were reduced to a mess with your messy hair and trembling lips. Not to mention the pornographic moans you let out that may or may not cause you to receive complaints from the tenants on your floor or any other floors or even the next buildings. But you don't care, not at all, and especially not when Yunho made you cum so hard your hips were suspended mid-air, asscheeks clenched, and pussy leaking more of your juice onto Yunho's fingers. Though embarrassed at your situation, you found yourself incapable of moving whatsoever which was a contrast to Yunho who was looking at you with pure wonder and amazement, affection mixed with hunger. It was only when your hips rested back on the couch that Yunho took his fingers out of your cunt slowly, catching your attention. You couldn't deny that you almost drooled at the sight of Yunho sticking the fingers that were just in you into his mouth and sucking on them as if they were candy.

Distracted, you didn't realize that Yunho had begun unbuckling his pants and taking out his dick until you felt something heavy and hot slapping your cunt a couple times. It was only when you looked down that you saw his cock which was by far the biggest you have ever seen that you let out a soft squeak as your eyes widened. When you looked back up, Yunho was eyeing you hungrily like a predator.

"My turn."

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undiscovered-horizon · 5 months

Note

Hi, I read a few of your posts and I really liked your writing. May I ask a hcs/drabble/one shot of ONE PIECE with Shanks (and Mihawk if it’s possible) who are in a relationship with a woman who have her own crew and the woman flee away in their sleep, leaving them behind, with her crew after years of relationship? A bit angsty 🙊 and they never found her again, seeing her in newspapers or rumors only.

Thank you if you made it and sorry if It doesn’t suit your blog! Have a nice day <3

At first, he though he read the title wrong. But no matter how many times his eyes glided across the black ink, the newspaper headline said the exact same thing: BLACK TOOTH GRINS: A NEW SCOURGE?

There was a picture attached underneath the title. Part of him thought that maybe the familiarity in the woman’s face was just his longing; a product of a mind too lovesick to hold on to sanity. Alas, this time, too, his senses were not deceiving him.

It is your face. You're alive and well as it seems. Looking exactly the same as the day you had left.

The heartache comes back to him tenfold. Not it has ever left but the pain and anger are now suffocating. So many months have passed when he hasn't heard from you as though you've suddenly ceased to exist. No one has heard about you, no one has seen. How can a whole person just vanish? At some point, he told himself that maybe you've met your end. It was entirely possible.

But nothing has prepared him for this. To realize that he was abandoned by the one he loved.

The anguish slowly fades into numbness like a radio falls silent after piercing ears with static. Everything stands still as he recalls the day some part of him had died:

"Greatest swordsman in the world" is a quite hefty title to carry. It is also quite a hefty title to be overshadowed by. Wherever the two of you showed up, you'd always be perceived as a decoration to Mihawk rather than his partner. Like a pearly white Maltese carried by rich ladies in their purses. Having voiced your concerns, Mihawk knew that you feel in some way inferior to him. He just never thought it was that severe.

He was woken up that night, actually. The sky was still black and starry, morning long hours away. You were getting out of bed and your stirring woke him up. But he quickly went back to sleep when you whispered that you were just going to the bathroom. By all means, it was just another night. Like countless others you've spent together. Nothing unusual.

In the morning, everything was gone. All of your belongings had disappeared as though you had never been on his ship in the first place. Like a ghost he's grown to love had simply become bored of haunting him.

Only one thing, however, suggested that you were not a figment of imagination: a laconic note that vaguely explained the situation. In a few words, you told him that you're tired of being seen as an accessory to someone, a pair of gloves that will be out of season when snow thaws. Knowing that you're more than the Maltese in a purse, you ventured into the wide world to become an infamous name of your own.

Throughout many years, every day has he thought of that night and the morning that followed. What if he hadn't fallen asleep? Was he too calloused to notice how much you've been suffering? Was there something he could have done but decided not to for some reason?

The longer he thought about it, the more he came to the same, heart-wrenching conclusion - he was just abandoned in the middle of the night. Whether it was his hurt pride or respect towards your wishes, he's never gone on an escapade to find you.

As years went by and he hadn't heard from you or about you, Mihawk simply assumed that you'd died. It seemed the most probable. Part of him wanted to take the blame: if he had noticed your pain earlier, had he taken your worries seriously, you wouldn't have left and you wouldn't have died. It was his responsibility to protect you, to ensure that his beloved is safe and sound. Alas, he had failed. Quite utterly at that.

He grew bitter and vicious. What good is his swordsmanship if it failed that one time it could have mattered? What good is he if he was too blind and oblivious to ease your burden?

But all of those painful thoughts disappeared today.

Mihawk tears the newspaper and throws it away. He's grown almost used to the weight of bereavement on his shoulders but now he's absolved of it. One shouldn't grieve someone who is still alive. But contrary to his expectations, he doesn't feel better because of that. In fact, he feels a lot worse. Even if your death had been brought by your own choices, it is not your fault. Your death, however, hasn't occurred as of yet, so the time you've spent building infamy was just time you chose to leave him broken and aching.

He mourned you! Turned his grief and misery into a fury that burned entire towns. He became a shadow of the person he used to be. And for what? To learn that he was disposable to you? That his love for you was less important than your pride and ambitions?

Now that you've made it on the front page with an equally hefty title "A New Scourge", perhaps you're a danger big enough to be hunted down by none other but one of the Warlords. Was it not what you wanted? To be truly someone among pirates?

Oh, he will find you. Even if you told him not to look for you. Mihawk will find you and make you take responsibility for the damage you've done - for the man you've irreversibly changed for the worse; the heart you've forced to turn into stone.

Is it revenge or is it justice? No matter. It is right.

If the butterfly effect is true, Shanks, or rather his tendencies, would be the said butterfly that causes a tornado down the line. He's been known as a man with no commitment and certainly not a devout monogamist. It didn't matter that for a few years he's been exactly that - happily wrapped around the finger of one woman. Most of his men "respectfully" disregarded the relationship status as something temporary.

"Shanks thinks he's in love. Like a thousand times before her."

Which was probably why you've gone years being called a variation of "Shanks's girl". Whether they meant it or not, people around you made sure that you know you're disposable. A fling.

But you never were. Gods above! You never were.

Shanks thought it was quite obvious that he didn't consider you a fling. All the jokes and jabs at his previous love life were just that - meaningless jokes among friends. Even when you explicitly told him that they start to make you uncomfortable and that you want to be taken seriously, the pirate captain never quite took you as seriously as he probably should have. "They're just joking".

The jokes stopped one day and, seemingly, so did Shanks's humour altogether. All of your belongings were gone. You were gone. Nowhere to be found, disappeared like fog on a spring morning. The only thing he had from you was a note, hastily scribbled in the corner of a map lying on his desk as though you were too rushed to take your time to write a proper letter.

He's read that note every day for years. Naively hoping that one day he'll somehow be enlightened as to where you've gone. Maybe one of the letters is strangely pointing towards an island? Or maybe the fact that you've written your message in the North-East of the map was a sign? No matter how many asinine guesses he's made, all of them were wrong. You just... disappeared.

Despite asking him not to look for you, Shanks couldn't help himself. Each village he has visited, he would ask about you. Has anyone seen you? Or heard about you? A few times he thought he had seen you in the crowd, only for the woman to turn out to be a stranger vaguely fitting your description. But this investigation, too, proved to be in vain. For better or worse, it seemed as though you had never existed in the first place.

To put things simply, Shanks had given up. If no one across the seas had seen you or heard about you, it seemed the most probable that you'd met your end. Somewhere far away, among unfamiliar waters and surrounded by strangers. Were you in pain? Were you afraid? Did you wish he could have been there? Or maybe you thought-

No. He shouldn't be thinking like that.

Shanks is locked in his cabin. If his crewmates believed he had an alcohol problem after you disappeared, their captain's state right now would be "alcohol catastrophe". He hasn't been sober since he saw the newspaper.

At first, he was excited, yes! You were alive and well! But then the realization set in: you've left in the middle of the night, asked him not to look for you and never once reached out to him. Telling him that you don't love him anymore would have hurt incomparably less.

He's sitting on the floor. His clothes reek but he doesn't care about that. A shaking hand has trouble lifting another bottle of strong alcohol. The front page of the newspaper with your face on it is lying in front of him. He's just blankly staring at it, letting tears fall down his cheeks.

Among the darkness of the room, there's just him, the bottle and the dull, unbearable ache in his chest.

Shanks wishes to find you. To ask what in the Hell you were thinking. Then ask what he can do to have you back with him. But beware, as whatever you demand he will do. Even if it costs him his other hand.

That is, if his liver won't kill him first.

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sweetbbyshion · 3 months

Text

untitled

-> Toji Fushiguro x Reader (gender neutral)

characters: Toji Fushiguro

genre: fluff

summary: uni has been stressing you out and your boyfriend is as tired

warnings: established relationship, age gap, this was written while i was stressing over assessments and i just needed a big strong sexy man to make me take a break, might be ooc

network: @eveningatthemoviesnetwork

Toji thinks he might smash his head against the wall if he hears you sigh loudly one more time. He turns his body on the couch to peek at you, hunching over a bunch of papers at the kitchen table. He can see two word documents opened on your laptop, one full of words and the other still blank. Next to it, his laptop that you begged to use has google opened and he can vaguely see the numerous windows in the tab. You sigh again, like you have been in the past hour, and drop your head on your arms.

Toji has no idea what you’re doing. He guesses it must be some university project but the calendar displayed on the fridge doesn't have an exam coming up soon. He gets up from the couch and makes his way to you. He puts his hand on the back of the chair, leaning down a bit and squinting his eyes to look at the tiny words on the laptop. Toji feels a bit too dumb when he doesn't understand all of the fancy words you used but your boyfriend can tell you're writing your interpretation of a poem.

“You need to start wearing your glasses.” you murmur, looking at the older man, your head lazily resting on your hand, as he keeps squinting. He scoffs, Toji would never wear those ugly glasses he got. It makes him look stupid, even after the amount of times you denied it and no matter how many times you sloppily made out with him wherever he wore those horrible glasses, a fire suddenly lighting you up when you saw the frames on his face. “Don't come complaining when your head starts hurting again.”

“What you got there that got you stressing out so much?” He decides to ignore your comment, changing the subject to the reason for your stress.

You sigh once more, resting your head on his forearm. “Gotta start writing one of my assessments for one of my classes. The professor is making us write about everything we’ve learned in class with our opinions and academic research to support it. It absolutely sucks and I wanna drop out.” you ramble. Toji’s chuckle has you frowning, “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, nothing. How about you take a break?” As good as that sounds, you shake your head denying his proposal. “Take a break. Not asking. Sit on the couch with me and relax for a bit.” His tone suggests that you would probably regret your decision if you choose to go against him.

Reluctantly, you get up from the uncomfortable chair and stretch your arms above your head. You feel your back crack from being in the same position for so long and you just want to lay in bed and sleep. Toji places his hands on your hips where the shirt isn't covering, squeezing the flesh as he pulls you a bit closer to him and you throw your arms around his shoulders as you sway a bit from side to side. Toji smiles a little when he hears you giggling, happy that you stopped sighing and stressing for a little bit. “ Should I be an old man’s sugar baby? I’ll share the money with you.” You tease, planting a kiss on his cheek. Toji rolls his eyes at your teasing tone. You lean back a little to look at the man, his big hands placed on your back to support your weight. “I'm starting to think you have a type. Like old men that much, doll?”

“Only one.” You reply, playing with the soft ends of his hair that are almost reaching his shoulders. “Unfortunately my old man isn't a billionaire that will give me a yatch for my birthday.” You press a small kiss to his lips. “I can't complain much though, my boyfriend is really sexy.”

Your boyfriend arches a brow, smirking at your remarks. “Yeah? What can I do to steal you away from that grandpa?” You pretend to think for a bit, a small pout appearing on your lips that Toji wants to kiss away more than anything. “Cuddle with me on the couch and watch a few episodes of a crappy reality show before I start feeling bad and go back to my assessment?”

Toji thinks for a bit. He wants you to relax for a while before you (and himself) go crazy with the constant sighing but you have a gift for choosing horrible shows that have Toji wanting nothing more than to punch the TV. Your boyfriend knows he can’t deny your request when he looks at you and you’re staring right back at him. Even if he had it in him to refuse your proposal, your tired eyes and the way you’re looking at him with so much adoration is enough for Toji to pull you to the couch.

You sit as close to him as you can and pull his arm to wrap around your shoulders. You snuggle comfortably on his side while pressing a few kisses on his jaw and neck that make Toji get goosebumps. This time, he doesn't act all dramatic like he usually does when you’re this close to him. He doesn't tease you or calls you clingy while playfully pushing you away just to watch you crawl back to him. This time, Toji lets you push and pull him until you’re comfortable. He doesn't even complain when he sees you open netflix and select a reality show with a weird name and an obnoxious couple on the cover.

Toji thinks all of this is worth it when you place a small kiss on his cheek and whisper “I love you” before falling asleep five minutes after in his arms.

#kora posts!#toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro fluff #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x y/n

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suspiciouslackofclowns · 9 months

Text

I’m having a lot of thoughts about super protective Steve right now, but I’m also having a lot of writer’s block so I don’t have the energy to actually set the whole scene.

I need Billy and Steve delivering pizzas and snacks to The Party (including the Corroded Coffin guys) to wherever they’re holding their campaign. Maybe somewhere in the woods because it’s aesthetic and the weather is nice, like out by Castle Byers.

The kids are fine with Harringroveson for the most part by now, though a couple of them (namely Dustin) don’t always get along the best with Billy. He tries really hard so it’s getting better, but progress is slow. He’s still detested by the Corroded Coffin guys (namely Gareth).

I love the misunderstood character trope for some reason. I love the idea of other characters hating Billy’s image, the idea of him, but when they get to know him as more than the asshole jock they peg him as, they realize he isn’t all that bad.

Maybe Gareth makes one too many comments about not wanting Billy there. Calls him an asshole and provokes him with the intention of validating his own perception of the blond. Maybe even goes as far as to insinuate that the only reason Eddie or Steve are with him is because of his looks. Something mean that’s said in a teasing tone, but hits just as hard despite it.

Billy doesn’t react with white hot rage like everyone’s expecting. He turns away and walks through the woods back to the car with a look of shame on his face, and Steve immediately jogs to catch up with him, lacing their fingers together as they weave through the trees.

Eddie stands there anxiously, wondering if he should follow them or if it’ll overwhelm his already upset boyfriend. He turns back to the group and looks pointedly at Gareth. Not angry. Just disappointed.

Which some could argue is worse.

“C’mon, man,” he sighs, gesturing vaguely. “You couldn’t be cordial until they left? He didn’t even do anything.”

“Made ‘em leave faster, didn’t it?”

Gareth’s tone is less sure than before, because after all, he isn’t a malicious person at his core. He’s clearly at odds with himself about hurting Billy’s feelings — he didn’t even think it was something that could happen.

Eddie just shakes his head and sighs.

“Well, you’ve poked the bear, so now shit’s gonna get testy.”

“What, like—“ Gareth gulps and his eyes blow wide. “Like Hargrove’s gonna kick my ass or something?”

At the words, Eddie laughs. Crosses his arms and sobers when he hears twigs crunch in the distance, a set of footsteps approaching once again.

“Not Billy,” Eddie whispers.

As if on queue, Steve emerges from between the trees. His jaw is clenched and his shoulders are squared. He gets eyes on Gareth before anything else, which has him scurrying up out of his seat on the floor. Ready to bolt.

Steve stops beside Eddie. Shrugs his hand off of his shoulder when Eddie sets it there and points an accusatory finger at Gareth. The movement makes him flinch even though he’s still a handful of feet away.

“I dunno what your fucking problem is, but you don’t say shit like that about my boyfriend when I’m around, you hear me?” Steve seethes. He eyes Gareth up and down like he’s sizing him up before he simply tsks and shakes his head. “You can find your way home in the dark for all I care, so don’t bother asking for a ride when the game’s over.”

He stares until Gareth nods, at which point some of the rage relaxes out of him. Only slightly.

Then he turns to Eddie.

“Get on the radio when you’re done?” he says much more softly. “I’m gonna go ahead and take him home.”

“Is he alright?”

“Yeah, but you know how he is.”

Eddie nods and cracks a smile.

“Big ol’ softie.”

“Mhmm.”

Steve mirrors his expression. Leans in for a quick kiss, then casts Gareth a final glare before he takes his leave.

Once he’s gone, Eddie huffs a laugh and intertwines his fingers over the back of his head.

“Jesus. Give him a while, he’ll get over it,” he dismisses. Glances over at Gareth, who looks about as startled as a mouse that’s been dropped into a snake pit. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“I dunno, you could probably speed up the process by making Billy a cake or something.” When Gareth furrows his eyebrows, Eddie shrugs and laughs again. “I’ve never pissed Steve off that bad, but I have hurt Billy’s feelings before. My boy loves him some chocolate cake.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then two.

They wind up having to wrap the game up faster than they anticipated, because the nice weather becomes a drizzle which becomes a pour.

Steve goes against his word and gives Gareth a ride home.

The next day, he’s standing on their porch with a Tupperware container full of chocolate cupcakes that say srry 4 b-ing an a-hole in blue icing on top.

Billy immediately shoves one into his mouth and Steve reluctantly forgives Gareth, meanwhile Eddie is laughing his ass off because he didn’t really expect him to take his suggestion seriously.

#harringroveson #steddilly #metalsandwich #billy hargrove #steve harrington #eddie munson #gareth stranger things #Billy being soft at heart is my dearest hc #also I love the idea of Steve actually being the mean and scary one of the three of them #because he’s the least suspecting #give me more pissed Steve #drabble #my writing #rushed bc I don’t have it in me to make a whole thing out of it #so you get my unedited thoughts <3 #billy antis dni #also not a Gareth hate post I just think he’s a dick the same way Eddie’s a dick #they’re both obnoxious assholes

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yuwuta · 29 days

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hi! this might be a bit of a vague ask, but how do you think yuuta is as a partner? like how does he treat his partner, his love language, giving & receiving affection, how a relationship with him would develop, etc. what are his guilty pleasures in a relationship? what are his favourite things to do with a partner? that kind of thing lol. i'm just in love with your yuuta so i was very curious! sorry!

hmm ok well there are basically 3 or 4 yuutas/yuuta aus that live in my head, and then like… some…. ground state version of him that is applicable to most boyfriend aus if that makes any sense 😭 idk how to explain this... but he’s got isomers that all can exist to me and then one normal version that’s just like… the core of who he is. i’m gonna stop talking about that now, but that’s all to say that the specifics of his guilty pleasures and favorite things to with his partner would depend on the au? but generally, he’s a very loyal and intimate person, so that carries through in all his thoughts and actions no matter which au it is

the love language his gives his acts of service. you want something, yuuta will get it for you or do it for you or figure out how to make it for you. he’s a yes man in the sense that he does not know how to say no to you. he’ll say yes before you can even finish detailing what it is you’re asking of him, and it stems from a few reasons.

firstly, yuuta is loyal, almost to a fault, so it doesn’t really matter what he does or who he hurts or undermines if he believes his words/actions are going to keep you safe or please you. his moral compass is skewed in the sense that he goes wherever you go, and it is about the final destination for him and not the journey; he wants to meet you where you are, and he won’t let things get in his way of getting to you.

secondly, while yuuta is very jealous, possessive, and protective where it concerns you, he also has a deep desire for you to feel the same way about him, no matter how extreme or mundane that is. he wants to be the person you ask to do favors for you, he wants you to show him that you know that he’s yours to ask, to take advantage of, to, quite literally, make all your requests come true. also he pouts if you ask someone else, and considers murder if somebody else volunteers in his place.

thirdly, there’s a bit of insecurity at play, too; yuuta puts you on a pedestal, and as such, he concretely believes that he isn’t truly worthy of you. you’re otherworldly to him, and he is just someone lucky enough to get to worship you in such proximity; so, he knows that, given the chance, anybody else would want to do the same thing, and he’ll be damned if he lets somebody else get the chance to take care of you. he knows somebody else could, so he doesn’t ever want to take the chance to let them.

this last reason kind of ties in to all the previous ones, but he also gets off on pleasing you. in the literal, sexual sense, he could cum in his pants just from fingering you or eating you out, or honestly just kissing on the right day. but also, there’s a profound sense of pride and happiness in his chest whenever he does something for you. he’s happy to have made you happy or to have lifted a little burden for you, and he’s proud of himself because he’s proven to himself once again that while he might not be the greatest or strongest or smartest person, he’s more than capable of taking care of the person he loves, and that’s more than enough for him :(( also the words “thank you” coming from you is dirty talk to him he doesn’t even know it but his praise kink goes crazy

in terms of receiving affection, maybe quality time? yuuta could force his own proximity to you if he wanted to (and sometimes, he does), but there’s a certain… joy? relief? reassurance? when you choose to spend time with him or be close to him. it’s a reminder that you want to be with him even half as much as he wants to be with you. he also strikes me as the kind of person to have a bunch of little hobbies and/or to always have some kind of errand to run, so you choosing to tag along with him, or just sit in his room with him while he studies or reads or paints or whatever makes him very happy

#anonymous #oh yuuta.... my baby my baby my baby my baby #think also gifts for his receiving love language? he doesn't get very many so he's grateful for the ones he does #especially from his loved ones and especially from you #bc it says you thought about him and you hear him when he talks about what he likes and thats just so :(( to him.#yuuta x reader #yuta x reader #yuuta.ask

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yanderes-galore · 1 month

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Is it possible for you to make a harem/poly main 6 that got infected with the Virus and they are all yandere for the Darling now? As in a general concept of how it happened and how it's going basically if you can, thank you!

This deals with a lot of characters so it will be a general overview. Sorry it isn't long... I struggle with multiple characters.

Main Story Concepts: Twilight, Fluttershy, Applejack, Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, Rarity

Side Story Concepts: Cadance, Queen Chrysalis

Yandere Virus! Mane Six Concept - Patient Zero

(Short Aftermath Idea)

Pairing: Romantic - Sharing

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Possessive behavior, Yandere virus, Feral/Animalistic behavior, Overprotective behavior, Mind break, Dark themes, Forced relationship(s) implied.

This concept is essentially a recap/aftermath concept.

By this time the Mane Six are infected, Rarity eventually succumbing just like the rest of them.

So now you have six overprotective/possessive ponies surrounding you wherever you go.

I imagine they originally fight with one another, assuming one is going to hurt you.

We've seen something similar in the Rainbow and Pinkie concepts.

Although... eventually they realize they all like you just as much.

They vaguely know it's due to the virus but they can barely focus on anything else right now.

The virus drives them all closer to you... so to soothe all their desperation, they agree to share.

We see this in the Cadance concept which was meant as a loose continuation.

They're like a pack, six infected ponies all animalistic in nature.

They aren't like themselves anymore.

They've neglected themselves... They're nearly feral...

By the conclusion of this curse, Ponyville is a messy wasteland.

Twilight is barely even able to comprehend what she's done... She wanted you all to herself...

This isn't your fault...

This is hers.

However... Even with her personal feelings and the virus flooding her system... She doesn't mind sharing.

If Twilight were to share her beloved with anypony, it would be the Mane Six.

They... sorta have their same hobbies.

Twilight speaks to you of spells she's reading, you silently hope she's looking for a cure but you doubt it.

Fluttershy takes you on walks through the woods, although the animals keep running from the both of you....

Applejack and Pinkie Pie both try to make you food to care for you.

Rainbow Dash acts as a bodyguard, racing around to make sure no pony gets any ideas.

All while Rarity makes you little outfits like usual.

They all love you, they all play their part...

But you don't see them as your friends anymore.

By the end of this journey you're exhausted, you've given up.

You've accepted the fact you're a Harbinger of obsession and disease.

You want to resent Twilight... But you can't hate all of them.

Twilight may have caused it... Yet you made it worse.

Perhaps this is what you deserve.

To be surrounded by destruction and the obsessive desires of your friends.

You don’t consider them friends... Or anything more.

You want this all to end but wherever you go... The curse follows.

You feel tethered to Ponyville.

After all... If you don't stay here, you'll only cause more trouble.

You tolerate it... Even though you hate it...

You want other ponies safe... So you listen and stay away from other ponies.

You stay with the Mane Six...

They'll take care of you... They care.

You're given love, affection, all of it... even if it's artificially sweet.

You accept your fate... which is why fear pools in your stomach when you see a certain pink alicorn enter Ponyville.

You try your best not to be found...

For the sake of not only you... But the rest of Equestria... You do not need to be saved.

#yandere my little pony #yandere mlp #yandere mlp virus #yandere twilight sparkle #yandere fluttershy #yandere applejack #yandere rainbow dash #yandere pinkie pie #yandere rarity

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hyperfixatedonthisnow · 1 year

Text

You Belong to Me

*Not my GIF

This is the first thing I’ve written in years but Shadow and Bone (and particularly Nikolai Lantsov!) is my new hyperfixation and I had the urge to write something, so here we are. Based on the prompt: “Mine.” “Say it again.” which I got from tumblr forever ago.

Summary: Reader is in an established relationship with Nikolai and they get jealous seeing someone else flirting with him so they decide to remind him who he belongs to. Turns out the King finds jealous/possessive reader a turn on, who would have guessed?

Word count: 2K

Warnings: NSFW - 18+ only. A tiny hint of a plot but really it’s just smut, hand job, jealousy/possessiveness, slight praise kink if you squint, reader can be any gender you like, I’ve left it deliberately vague for your reading pleasure :)

The grand ballroom was so full that you could barely move an inch without bumping into a visiting noble, courtier or ambassador of some sort. Musicians were playing at one end of the room and waiters flitted about with trays of champagne.

You scanned the crowd in an effort to locate the King. Your eyes found him finally near of the centre of the room, surrounded by young ladies and you sighed, because of course he was. You had only left Nikolai’s side for a few minutes, but that was all it took for the vultures to descend. You supposed you couldn’t really blame them, he was gorgeous. Intelligent and charming too. Wherever he went, people were drawn to him like moths to the proverbial flame. Your relationship with the King had started many years before, when he was just a wayward second son with little hope of ever inheriting the throne and though his circumstances had now changed, your love for each other remained stronger than ever. Nikolai could be a bit of a flirt, but you trusted him implicitly. You knew without a doubt that anyone trying to tempt him would fail. He would be going home with you, still that didn’t stop the surge of jealousy that burned uncomfortably in your stomach as you made your way across the room to join the group. Nikolai’s eyes lit up as he saw you approach and he reached for you immediately, wrapping his arm around your waist without even the slightest hint of hesitation. You watched with a perverse sense of satisfaction as obvious disappointment flitted over the faces of his companions and several of the ladies politely excused themselves, quickly losing interest now they knew for certain that the King was taken. The last young lady however, was not so easily deterred. She looked you up and down with barely concealed distaste as Nikolai made the formal introductions and then finally she offered you a saccharine smile - entirely for his benefit you assumed, since it was obvious that it pained her to do so. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you said, smiling brightly. You would be nice if it killed you. It would only cause problems for Nikolai if you went around being rude to his guests, regardless of wether they deserved it or not. The other woman made no response, already turning her attention back to the King as if you hadn’t even spoken. Apparently she didn’t share your concerns about rudeness. Nikolai cleared his throat, breaking the awkward silence, “Miss Antonova was just telling me about her home in Kerch.” “Oh yes,” Miss Antonova exclaimed, twirling a lock of her dark hair around her finger, “As I was saying, you must come for a visit, your highness. I know my father would be honored to host you.” “What a generous offer,” Nikolai smiled, “perhaps we may take you up on it someday.” The young woman beamed at him, pleased with his response. “We could make it one of the stops on our honeymoon,” you suggested, just to watch her face fall. “Absolutely not. I should not consider our honeymoon a success if we are to be fit for company at any point,” Nikolai grinned impishly and you shook your head fondly, a blush spreading across your cheeks at the implication. You could feel Miss Antonova glaring daggers at you. “Well, perhaps you could make the trip to Kerch on your own instead, moi tsar,” she simpered, batting her eyelashes at him, “I would be happy to volunteer as your personal guide.” You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. "I bet you would,” you muttered quietly under your breath, though not quietly enough if Nikolai’s sudden coughing fit was any indicator. Miss Antinova moved closer to him, her face creased in concern, “Goodness, are you alright?” She asked, laying a hand on his arm. You glared at her, touching the King was in no way appropriate. Nikolai gave you a look, shaking his head minutely - a gesture you knew to mean leave it alone. So you bit your tongue even though you wanted to tell her off. “Yes, I’m quite well,” Nikolai assured her once he had recovered, “My apologies.” Despite his reassurance, and the heat of your still disapproving glare, she did not move away or remove her hand. Instead, she moved further into his personal space, close enough to be considered indecent in your opinion. Her delicate hand curled around his clothed bicep. You struggled to fix a polite smile on your face when in your head you were fantasizing about breaking her fingers one by one. “Oh my, you have very strong arms,” she gushed and this time you did roll your eyes. For Saints sake. Nikolai met your gaze over the top of her head and you saw amusement dancing in his eyes. “I work out from time to time,” he told her with a wink, “It’s important to keep my army training up to date.” Miss Antonova giggled girlishly, as if he had said something ridiculously funny, and you decided that was quite enough. “I’m sorry but you’ll have to excuse us,” you stated bluntly, “the King has an urgent, private matter to attend to immediately.” Rather than wait for a response, you turned and firmly grasping Nikolai’s hand, pulled him away and across the crowded room towards the door. Although he could easily have escaped your hold if he had wanted to, Nikolai followed you without complaint, allowing you to lead him out of the ballroom and through the Palace hallways as though he were a boy rather than the King. Entering his chambers you made sure to lock the door behind you and then you stalked towards him, forcing him backwards until his back hit the wall behind him. “Something wrong, my love?” He asked, an amused little smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth. “The audacity of that woman,” you grumbled, “Mooning and flirting, and touching you! As if I wasn’t standing right there.” “Oh, I don’t know,” he mused, eyes sparkling with affectionate humor, “I thought she was just being friendly.” “Friendly? She was all over you!” you objected. “Maybe a little bit,” he conceded with a slight tilt of his head, his smirk widening. “But you know that I would never accept her advances, or anyone’s for that matter,” he insisted earnestly as he reached out to tuck a loose lock of hair behind your ear, “So what does it matter?” “I didn’t like it, Kolya,” you muttered irritably, yanking at the knot of his cravat in an effort to remove it and almost choking him in the process. “Really?” he chuckled, “I hadn’t noticed.” He batted your hands away so he could loosen the offending item himself, pulling it free of his collar and unbuttoning the top few buttons of his shirt as he went. You narrowed your eyes at him. “It’s not funny.” He hummed in agreement as he dipped his head to kiss you, slow and sweet, just a soft brush of his lips over yours, but your were in no mood for romance. You nipped at his bottom lip impatiently, licking hot and demanding into his mouth when he opened up to you. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer as you threaded your fingers through his hair, kissing him hungrily and sucking on his tongue before you surfaced for air. You kissed an open-mouthed line across his jaw and down his throat, pausing to nip and suck at his pulse point. “Ah. Not above the collar,” he reminded you gently. You huffed, pressing yourself tighter against him and wedging a knee between both of his so that your thigh was pressed against his crotch. He was already hard and knowing it was because of you - not her - tempered your jealousy a little. Nosing down into the collar of his shirt to reach the juncture of his shoulder, you sucked a stinging bruise into his skin. His hips bucked in response. You couldn’t help but smile as you admired your handiwork, a surge of possessiveness rolling through you. “Mine,” you murmured as you laved your tongue over the offending mark. Nikolai groaned low in his throat, rutting against you more insistently. “Say it again,” he gasped. His voice was rough with arousal and you lifted your head to regard him, surprised by his reaction. You felt a heady rush of power as you looked him over. His eyes were dark, his pupils dilated with lust. His lips were shiny and kiss–swollen and his face was flushed, a deep blush spreading from the tips of his ears all the way down to his chest. You had barely started and he was already wrecked. “You belong to me,” you purred in his ear, nuzzling at his throat as you reached a hand between you to stroke him through his pants. He made an involuntary keening sound, his eyes slipping closed as he pushed himself into your palm. “No one else gets to touch you like this, do they?” He shook his head frantically, hips straining towards you, desperately seeking more friction. You sighed, feigning disappointment. “I can’t hear you,” you chastised, “Use your words Kolya." “No,” he breathed, “only you.” “That’s right,” you agreed, smiling against his skin.

You rewarded him by freeing him from his pants and he moaned as you used the precum that had gathered at the head of his cock to slick your palm. He laid his forehead against yours, opening his eyes so that he could follow the movement of your hand as you jerked him in a firm, fast rhythm until he was panting. When you knew he was near his peak, you lifted your head to meet his eyes. “Mine,” you whispered possessively, a seductive smile on your lips. He shuddered, his head dropping to your shoulder and his hands tightening on your waist as he came with a soft cry, thick stands of cum covering your hand and the front of his shirt. He slumped against the wall, boneless in the aftermath of his orgasm. “Well,” he said breathlessly, “that was..,” “Intense? Incredible? Life changing?” you suggested helpfully, and he snorted a laugh. “I was going to say unexpected, but those work too.”

You brought your clean hand up to his throat, running your thumb over the dark bruises you had left just below the line of his collar. "I'm afraid I've made quite a mess," you said, "I'm sorry." And you were, now that the bitter sting of jealousy had faded and you had returned to your senses.

"Don't be. I don't know if you could tell but I rather liked it," Nikolai grinned, "and besides, I've made a mess of you too, so I'd say we're even."

"I suppose that's true," you agreed, bringing your hand up to your mouth. Your tongue snaked out to gently lap the remains of his release from your fingers and he groaned, scrubbing a shaky hand across his face. “You’re trying to kill me,” he accused and you laughed as you leaned in to kiss him. Nikolai pulled you in closer, deepening the kiss but keeping it sweet and unhurried.

"Give me a moment to recover and I'll repay the favour," he promised.

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lanstov x reader #nikolai smut #shadow and bone #grishaverse #Zoya is my queen but not in this fic #i would die for this man #jealousy #possessiveness #plot what plot

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heademptie · 2 months

Text

Ghoap x Comms!Reader continued...

Reader avoids Ghost as much as they can, not wanting to stir things up more than they already have, but they're only successful because Ghost allows it. And Ghost only allows it so he can better observe them. He's tried pulling strings, using his rank and reputation to try and find out more about reader. But it comes up short. He gets access to their file, but its all fluff inside, lots of it confidential or just blank. Their name isnt even on the file, just the callsign (to keep reader anonymous) Laswell gave out. He asked her too, but she didn't have the answers he wanted.

"Tell me about them." "Not much to tell, I'm afraid. Why? You think they're a threat?" "Don't know yet." "Should I be worried, Ghost?" He pauses, thinking it over. But Laswell knows well enough, that if there was a threat, Ghost wouldn't hesitate. So she sighs and hands over the lackluster file. "They work behind the scenes, no field record. They were brought here-" Her voice drowns out with information Ghost already knows, the extent of Laswells knowledge on the matter. On first glance the file looks fine, personal information left blank or blacked out, a brief service record. Nothing in the field, like Laswell said, but a few listings for assistence with signal decoding. But most of their work is as a mundane office drone, 'A temp,' Ghost thinks amused.

So he skulks around base and observes.

Johnny is confused. He's been able to read Ghost for some time now, their connection and dynamic so intertwined, so in tune with each other, thriving since Las Almas. He notices almost immediately, the sudden hostility and caution Ghost displays on base, it takes him a bit longer to find the target.

He tries to ask outright, of course he does because why wouldn't Ghost talk to him, but he gets shut down. A gruff response. "Don't know what you're talking about Johnny."

Soap pushes, of course, but he gets repeatedly shut out. He moaps a bit, like a kicked puppy, before he catches on to who has made Ghost like this. He's surprised when he cathes the critical look of Ghost when Reader walks by, and he doesnt miss the quick glance they flick over Ghost. Then that glance jumps to him and reader gives a small smile and nod, one that looks a little too nervous to be oblivious to Ghost's scrutiny.

So he finds them the next evening, Reader is leaving tomorrow, going back to wherever they were before, so they went out for a drink. He slides up next to them easily, and gives a bright, syrup sweet smile to ease into things. Reader is a bit tense to begin with but relaxs just a bit once conversation starts. Soap starts slow and vague, idle chat morphing into talking about readers time on base before eventually reaching his desired point of discussion.

Immediately, the mood shifts. Reader is subtle with it, smile becoming a little tighter at the corners, and eyes scanning over him with an increased intensity. They play dumb, not lying to him but repeating his words, asking thier own questions, faux confusion furrowing their brows.

'They're good at this,' Johnny thinks as reader gives another vague answer, easing him in the direction to make a false assmunption. He's not mad, a little annoyed, but mostly he thinks that they're clever. 'Maybe this is why Simon is suspicious,' reader is still on guard, but as Johnny relaxes into the back and forth, so do they. Its like a game now. 'A simple desk worker shouldn't be this good'.

The night comes to an end and Johnny insists on walking them back to base. He'll bring it up to Ghost again, mention how reader easily navigated the pseudo interrorgation, get him to talk. Its on the walk back that reader looks over to Soap, eyes kind yet critical and sighs. He looks over and reader offers a smile. Theres something in that smile he doesnt have the chance to decipher before they've caught him off guard.

"It's his business to tell you what's going on. I don't want to step on any more toes, especially since im out of here in a few hours."

Soap goes to ask more, opens his mouth, ready to launch into his questions, eager to finally get answers. But they put a hand on his shoulder and he falters.

"But for gods sake just tell him already."

He's confused, but the look they give speaks volumes. Oh. Oh. Johnny understands now. The hostility, the caution, the observation. Just as they saw through Johnny and cupped his weakness in their gentle hold, they had done the same to Simon.

Oh. This is...

Reader is gone the next day, as was expected, but Ghost is only slighty eased, and Soap finds himself a little on edge. It's not till weeks later, with readers voice nagging at him with that kind exasperation, that Soap (a little liquored up) is in Ghosts barrack.

They're shouting at each other, fear turning into misplaced anger before it goes quiet in the small room. They're both breathing heavy, Ghost, Simon in this moment, breaks it.

"I'll kill anyone who hurts you. And I'd be pleased to." He follows closely, closing the gap until uncovered hands grasp Johnny's face, as gentle as Simon can manage. "If you're mine, no one, no one, can touch you." Johnny is thrilled.

As the sun rises, the two are twisted together in the sheets of Ghosts too small bed, Johnny wears a tooth rotting smile. They think, seperately, offhandedly, that they really should thank that too clever reader.

#call of duty #cod #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #john soap mactavish x simon ghost riley #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mactavish #ghoap x reader #fanfic #comms!reader #im liking this the more i write #definately gonna be some retcons if this turns into a full fledged fic #im just having fun #brain rot

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hotchnerobsessed · 1 year

Text

Think About You

This one was requested by @ssamorganhotchner 🥰

Based on “The Touching Yourself Song” by Noah Davis

Fem!Reader x Hotch | Being away from Aaron is never easy, but you always find ways of getting by.. sometimes with his help.

Warnings: 🥵+🤭 Smut [praise kink, slight choking kink, fem!masturbation, phone sex, mirror play, protected sex] with a few little moments of domestic life with Aaron sprinkled throughout.

Word Count: 8080

Masterlist

I think we can all agree that Aaron is an old fashioned kind of guy, so the pictures are Polaroids rather than digital photos 🫣

**********

“I've got a man, but he's always out of town.”

Being apart never got any easier. It didn’t matter if he was gone for a couple days, or a couple weeks, knowing you wouldn’t be falling asleep in his arms for an undetermined amount of time made your chest ache. Add to that the fact that he might get hurt, or worse, he might never come home, made it almost unbearable sometimes.

But you never held it against him. You knew what you’d signed up for when you’d agreed to spend the rest of your lives together. You accepted him for who he was, job and all. Truthfully, it’s what had drawn you to him in the first place, there was always an air of safety around him. You knew that no matter what happened, you would be okay as long as you had him by your side; your fierce protector.

As you sat at the empty dining room table, you’d hardly touched the meal you’d prepared for yourself. Jack was at a friend’s for the weekend, so you were on your own for two and a half days. You enjoyed your time alone as much as the next person, but when Aaron was gone, some nights were more difficult than others. The fork in your hand was mindlessly pushing food around your plate, before you finally set it down with a heavy sigh.

Glancing out the window, you stared at the beautiful sunset that filled the sky, and couldn’t help but wonder what the sky looked like wherever he was. That was the hardest part, the not knowing exactly where he was. It was always so vague, simply, “Alabama,” or, “Nebraska.”

As the brilliant colours reflected in the clouds began to fade, you found yourself fidgeting with the rings around your finger. Your mind instantly flooded with memories of your special day, saying “I do,” to your best friend, followed by cheers erupting from all of your loved ones.

It didn’t take long for your mind to wander even farther, to the end of the night, and everything that followed. The way he’d looked, kneeling in front of you, tux still in tact, as he pushed your dress up your legs. The smirk that crossed his face before he ducked his head under the material and connected his lips to your core still made a chill run down your spine. He’d stayed right there for even longer than he normally did, wanting to “make sure my wife is taken care of.”

You hadn’t noticed it at first, the way you’d mindlessly crossed your legs while you were still seated in that dining room chair, with your eyes still focused on the clouds, still spinning your rings around your finger. The slight rocking motion of your foot relieved some of the pressure that was beginning to build deep within you, but it wasn’t enough.

It wasn’t long before the memory of him finally pulling himself out from under your wedding dress was front and centre; his hair was a complete mess, his chin glistened thanks to your multiple climaxes, and a huge grin was spread across his face. That was a sight you knew you would never forget; it had seared itself into the deepest parts of your mind.

“Feel like an addict, you come on my mind, all of a sudden I'm wetting through the sheets like aquafina.”

By now, you’d acknowledged the aching between your legs, and you wanted to get more comfortable. You quickly packaged up your untouched meal and stuck it in the fridge, before making your way to the bedroom. As you crossed the soft carpeted floor, losing articles of clothing along the way, you finally found yourself lying on your back in the middle of the bed.

You didn’t waste any time, sliding your hands along your body, cupping one of your breasts in one hand, while continuing farther down with the other. You weren’t surprised at all by just how wet you already were, it didn’t take much when Aaron was on your mind.

Your now slick fingers slid effortlessly along your folds, gently teasing yourself. It was a sad attempt at building up to your climax, even though you knew you were already teetering on the edge. You decided to just let yourself have this one, as you brought your fingers up to your sensitive bud.

The feeling was euphoric, as your eyes slipped closed and more memories began flashing through your mind. One in particular was of a time he’d informed you that he wanted to have you for breakfast, as his strong hands helped lift you onto the kitchen counter before he dropped to his knees in front of you. With every swipe of your fingers, you imagined his tongue on you, caressing you up and down, drawing out every last ounce of pleasure he could.

It was one look in particular that he always gave you that finally did you in; the way he would glance up at you, lips still attached to your clit, as he raised those strong eyebrows of his as if asking permission, before sliding two fingers inside you.

One last brush of your fingertips against your swollen bud had your body shaking. Your hips writhed against the sheets, a moan of his name escaping your lips, as your grip on your breast tightened. Your chest was still heaving, but you desperately wanted more.

“Using his pics when I'm missing his dick, I do it at night, with him on my mind.”

After allowing yourself some time to catch your breath, you slipped your legs over the side of the bed before kneeling on the floor and pulling open the very bottom drawer of your shared dresser. You’d both agreed to make it your special drawer, and you’d filled it with all of your lingerie, sex toys, and (just what you were looking for) a stack of Polaroid photos.

Glancing down at the tiny photos between your fingertips, you felt a warmth spread through your body as you recalled the passion of that night. You’d been digging through some old boxes in the garage when you found the camera, at which point you’d completely forgotten what you’d even been looking for in the first place. What started as an innocent, “look what I found!” quickly turned into him suggesting that he had, “an idea of what we could take pictures of..”

You flipped through the stack, everything from photos of you going down on each other, to photos of you riding him, and a close up of his large hand grasping your throat, to find one specific photo that seemed to have a death grip on your mind. You simply couldn’t help it, it was one you always kept going back to.

Taken from his point of view, looking down at you lying on your back, the very top of the frame showed your breasts cupped in your hands. The very bottom of the frame showed a glorious view of his stomach, with the centre of the photo capturing his cum painted flawlessly across your chest and stomach. Your bodies were impossibly close, your legs draped over his thighs, with his still hard length resting against your lower abdomen. You loved the photo because it showed off his size beautifully, with his tip reaching past your belly button.

“When I go solo I'm never by myself, we fuck in my mind when I can't have that dick in real life. It's like you never leave mе, it's all in my head, but I still feel that shit in my spine.”

Simply looking at the photo seemed to have a visceral affect on your body, as your thighs squeezed closer together. If you closed your eyes, you swore you could still feel just how deep he always reached. With your toes curling at the thought, you knew you needed to do something about the throbbing that had returned between your legs. Sliding the drawer shut, you made your way back to the bed, lying down and spreading your legs once more.

Your eyes scanned the photo, and you mimicked the way you were cupping your breasts in the photo with your free hand. Running your thumb across your nipple made your back arch, as your eyes slipped shut and you imagined it was his hands making you feel good.

As your fingers trailed farther down your body, you made a point of laying your hand flat against your lower abdomen, right where his cock had been in the photo. Your eyes flickered open momentarily, and your gaze lingered on his impressive length in the photo, as everything came rushing back.

“When I close my eyes, that muscle stay with me. That muscle memory.”

Moments before the photo was taken, you’d felt your entire body shudder, a wave of pleasure consuming your mind. You’d come to realize that it would never matter how many times you experienced it, the feeling of him deep inside you as an orgasm ripped through your body, it wasn’t something that would become seemingly mundane. As much as you craved a simple, domestic life with him, these moments, with both of your bodies connected, isn’t something you would ever take for granted.

With your eyes closed once again, you allowed your hand to travel between your thighs. You could still see the look of pleasure on his face clear as day as he wrapped his hand around his hard length. You could still hear the deep groans rumbling through his chest and escaping his lips as incoherent moans. As much as it turned you on, watching as he fucked his own fist and spilled his release across your body, it also made your heart swell in your chest. You could remember lying on your back in that moment, staring up at him and thinking to yourself how lucky you were to see him this vulnerable, this unravelled, this spent.

Reaching your hand even farther down, you slipped your fingers between your wet lips and into your heat. It wasn’t the same as his fingers, and nowhere near the same as his cock, but it would have to do for now. Carefully setting the photo on the bed beside you, you slid your other hand down to meet the other, and your fingers danced around your clit.

With a firm curling motion, you began massaging that glorious spot inside of you, all while rubbing tight circles against your swollen bud. Hitting the rewind button in your mind, you focused back on the moments leading up to your climax in that photo; the way he whispered encouragement in your ear, the way his pelvis rubbed perfectly against your clit, and the way his tip hit all the right spots inside you.

In no time at all, you felt your body crest the wave again, that same feeling of euphoria consuming your mind. With a few final strokes of your fingers, you’d reached your limit and pulled your hands away, letting yourself breathe through it. As your chest rose and fell, slowing with every deep breath in shaky breath out, you felt a calm settle itself deep within you. Even when Aaron wasn’t there with you, he was still more than capable of making you come undone in the best way.

Though your body still craved more, you craved him, you were more than happy to end the night there, and after cleaning yourself up, you simply curled up in bed. Wearing one of Aaron’s sweaters, breathing in the familiar scent of him, you slowly drifted off to sleep.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

The next morning, things hadn’t changed, you still wanted more. You wanted him there with you, touching you, inside you, his body weight pinning you against the mattress. Throughout the day, you did your best to ignore it, but by the time the evening rolled around, you couldn’t deny it any longer.

You’d finally finished your leftovers from the night before, when you decided you were going to text him; you just wanted him to know he was on your mind. Though you knew your chances of getting a response were slim, you were going to try anyway. He was more than likely wrapped up with something, but later at night like this was better than midday.

Reaching for your phone, you selected his name from the top of your screen and typed out a message. Most times you would have started by asking how his day had been, and how everyone was doing, but you were too focused on how empty your arms felt without him there to hold at night. You decided that a simple statement, getting straight to the point, would be best.

📲 I miss you so much.

Once you hit send, you locked your phone and set it on the table beside you. You weren’t expecting a reply any time soon, so you stood from the table and brought your dishes to the sink. Much to your surprise, seconds later you heard the chime of your phone.

📲 I miss you too, sweetheart. Are you alright?

You smiled softly to yourself; you should have known he’d be able to tell that something was off. Not wanting to waste his time, you decided once again that being honest was best.

📲 Just feeling a little more lonely than usual.. Call me when you have a few minutes?

On the other side of the phone, hundreds of miles away, Hotch stood in a room full of his colleagues, his eyebrows drawn together. He was attempting to push past the guilt he felt in that moment; he knew you understood the job, the life he chose, but something he didn’t always acknowledge was the fact that when he was away, he was surrounded by his team every day. Meanwhile, you were usually left alone, especially when Jack wasn’t around so you could be each other’s emotional support buddies.

While all this was running though his mind, most everyone else had dispersed, leaving him and Morgan alone in the room. “Hotch,” Derek had clocked the sudden change in his demeanour, “everything okay?” he asked gently, nodding towards the phone in Aaron’s hand.

“Yeah, I.. I think so..” he hesitated before tucking his phone back into his pocket, “it’s Y/N.” Pausing once more, sliding a few papers into his briefcase before finally looking up at the man across the room, “why don’t you all take a quick break, you should get something to eat. We’ll meet back here in 15.” If you’d been there in person, he knew you would have said something about the fact that he should be eating, too. But right now all he cared about was making sure you were okay.

Derek simply nodded and turned to leave the conference room they’d set up in, before wrangling the rest of the team for a quick meal. Not wanting to disturb anyone, or have your call interrupted, Aaron made his way out of the room as well. It wasn’t long before he was climbing into the front seat of one of the black SUVs and dialling your number.

It had been only 3, maybe 4 minutes since you’d sent your last message when you heard your phone ring, his name lighting up the screen. You were quick to answer, “hi!” the relief in your voice evident.

A soft smile creased the corners of his eyes; he couldn’t deny how good it felt to hear your voice. “Hi sweetheart, everything okay?”

Your laugh was soft, as his soothing tone crept right through the phone and calmed every anxiety in your mind, “I think I just needed to hear your voice..”

His smile grew even wider, knowing he had the same affect on you. “Well I’m here now, alright? I’m right here,” his voice was low and comforting, “tell me about your day.”

A flustered smile graced your lips, it was the tiny moments like this that made you fall even deeper in love with him every day. As you filled him in on what you’d been up to that day, he absorbed it all; you were the sliver of light shining through the darkness of his day. If it was up to him, he’d sit right in that spot and keep you on the phone for the rest of the evening.

“Good, that’s good.” You could hear the smile on his face clear as day. “And how’s Jack?”

“Oh he’s doing great. I spoke to him this morning. He’s always happy to spend time with the puppy over at their house..”

As Aaron laughed, you couldn’t help but laugh right along with him. This had been a discussion between the three of you for quite some time now, and he was finally starting to come around. “I bet he’s having the time of his life,” he teased.

“It sure sounded like it,” you added playfully.

“So baby don't worry, I'm going to be fine. Touching myself in the night, while I’ve got you on my mind.”

There was a short pause before he spoke again, “and you? What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?”

Your sigh was barely audible, but he could feel it in his chest, too. “I just.. miss you..”

His sigh matched yours, “I know, sweetheart, I miss you too. I’m sorry you were on your own all weekend.”

Shaking your head in an attempt to move past the longing you felt for him, you simply stated, “it’s okay, I’m okay. But I can’t wait for you to come home.”

He smiled quietly to himself, “I’ll be home before you know it.” He was trying to make you feel better, and you loved him for it, but both of you knew there was just no telling how long he’d be gone.

“Promise?” you whispered.

“Promise.” He smirked before continuing, “but until then.. are you..” he hesitated, heat rising in his cheeks before he even said the words out loud, “is my girl taking care of herself?”

You exhaled hard, his words catching you completely by surprise. It was almost as if he knew that’s why you’d texted in the first place, and he’d figured you were too reluctant to say anything. “I’m.. yes..” you admitted softly.

He chuckled, the arousal in your voice clear already. He just couldn’t help himself, “good girl.”

A deep groan formed in your throat, “oh Aaron.. I miss you so much..”

“I miss you too, sweetheart.. fuck, I wish I was there right now..” he admitted, that low voice of his gripping your chest.

“Yeah?” Your voice was shaky.

“Yes..” A stark contrast to the uneven tone of your voice, his was firm and unwavering. He knew he couldn’t get himself too worked up right now, not when he had to return to work in a mere 9 minutes. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t give you what you needed. “I wish I was there so I could kiss your neck, my hands on your back, pulling you close.”

You hummed contentedly, sensations slowly beginning to grow deep within you. As much as you wanted this, you knew he was at work, and you didn’t want to be a burden. “Where.. where are you right now?” you asked between deep breaths, “we can’t do this.. you’re working..”

“Don’t worry about that, sweetheart,” he cooed.

You tried your best to get your mind past the fact that he was technically on the clock right now, “but..”

He cut you off, “you trust me, right? Just let me take care of you.”

Another deep breath escaped your lungs, “okay..”

“Okay,” he repeated through a smile, before inquiring, “are you in our bedroom?”

You simply shook your head at first, momentarily forgetting that he couldn’t actually see that response. You finally replied, “the couch..” When you’d heard the phone ringing, you’d picked it up and quickly made your way to the living room, getting comfortable in your favourite spot on the couch.

“I think we can work with that.” You could hear the smirk in his voice, and you exhaled deep once more. “Lay back,” he could hear a faint shuffling over the phone, “and spread your legs for me.”

“Okay..” you moaned.

“You know I was thinking about you last night, it’s not the same without you here. But I'll be okay until you get home, beause I love the way you love me from afar.”

“That’s my good girl.” The smooth velvety tone of his voice sent chills down your spine. “When’s the last time you made yourself cum?” He wanted to hear all about it.

“Last night..” you confessed.

He smiled again, “ohhh, such a needy girl.”

“I couldn’t help it,” you whined, your hand finding it’s way between your legs, “I was thinking about you.”

Your words made pride well in his chest; even though he wasn’t there with you, he was still able to make you feel good. And he was going to prove that once more. “Oh yeah? And what was I doing?”

You moaned, “I was.. looking at that photo..”

That was as descriptive as your mind would allow you to be in that moment, but he still knew exactly what photo you were talking about. “Ahh yes.. You always look so pretty with my cum all over you.”

“Fuck..” You were already breathless, as the circles you were rubbing against your throbbing clit began increasing in speed.

He grinned once more, taking a moment to be silent and listen to the sounds of your heavy breathing; he wished he could be there with you so bad. “Put me on speaker, sweetheart.” Without hesitation, you had it switched to speaker phone and was resting it carefully on your chest.

“Diffеrent time zones, but he's still inside me. I’m never alone when I touch myself.”

Seconds later he spoke again, “you’re already touching yourself, aren’t you?”

Once again, you simply nodded, before admitting softly, “yes..”

“Good girl,” he smirked, “now I want you to use your other hand, and slide two fingers inside that beautiful pussy.”

“Okay..” you whined.

He was fighting as hard as he could to stay calm, and not let the arousal rushing through his veins get the better of him. Clearing his throat, he pushed through the tightness that gripped his chest.

“Oh fuck.. it feels so good..” Your voice was strained, and you unintentionally held your breath at the feeling.

“Imagine it’s my fingers, sweet girl, my cock, moving in and out of you, making you feel good.” He still spoke with that deep commanding voice, calm as ever.

“Always..” you admitted, “it’s always you.�� It wasn’t long before you felt the knot in your stomach beginning to tighten. “Aaron I’m.. I’m going to cum..” you whined.

“Yeah, that’s it..” he sighed, “be a good girl and cum for me.”

His words of encouragement were all you needed, as your breath caught in your throat and you felt your body crest that wave. With a few shaky strokes of your fingers, you finally pulled them away and exhaled deep. With your chest rising and falling, your breathing heavy, you couldn’t form a single thought. You simply closed your eyes and allowed yourself to revel in the way your body immediately relaxed.

“That’s my girl.” He knew by the way your breathing hitched, and the sigh that rang in his ear, that you’d reached your climax; he’d heard that same rhythm of your body countless times before.

“I love you,” you laughed lightly, nothing but pure bliss clouding your mind. “Fuck, I love you so much.” You could hear his laugh over the phone, and a calm washed over you. Even when you weren’t together, your minds and bodies were still connected.

“I love you, too.” Glancing down at his watch, 3 minutes to go, he cleared his throat once more, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart, I have to get back to work. You’ll be okay until I get home?”

Still slightly out of breath, you spoke quietly, “I’ll be okay.”

“Good,” he smiled once more, “now get some rest. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Okay,” you sighed, “goodnight, Aaron.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.” And with that, he finally hung up the phone, a smile lingering on his lips. With a deep breath in, he assessed himself, and after clearing his throat once more he was opening the door of the SUV and heading back into the building.

The second the door closed behind him, Morgan was at his side, “everything okay with Y/N?”

Hotch gave him a soft nod, “yes, nothing serious.”

Derek narrowed his eyes, unsure of what he was trying to hide, “you sure? You look a little flushed there boss man.”

Giving Morgan the side eye, he fought to keep the heat in his chest from rising any more, “Y/N is fine. Jack is fine.”

Derek opened his mouth to say something, trying to get enough of a reaction out of him so he could read him better, but Hotch cut him off, “Morgan?”

“Yeah?” He responded not-so-innocently.

“Drop it.” Hotch’s tone was firm but not angry, and Derek knew not to push it any farther. Simply throwing his hands up to indicate he understood, the two of them made their way back to the conference room to pick up where they’d left off.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

It was another 6 days before he’d finally told you he was on his way home to you and Jack, and the joy you both felt was palpable. When you got the call that they’d landed and he was on the way home, you both got everything ready.

A short 15 minutes later, you heard him pulling into the driveway and Jack started jumping up and down with excitement. “Okay buddy, grab your sign, quick!!” You’d helped him as he spent hours working on a sign that had ‘Welcome Home Daddy!!’ written in large print, decorated with stickers and glitter glue. At the bottom, right in the middle, were three stick figures, all labelled as ‘Mommy’, ‘Daddy’, and ‘me’, standing side by side holding hands.. with a puppy drawn beside them.

When you both heard his keys in the door, Jack stood right where you’d rehearsed, a firm grip on both sides of his sign. But that didn’t last long, because the second the front door was open, he was tossing the sign to the side and yelling, “Daddy!!” before bounding across the room towards Aaron.

Dropping everything where he stood, Aaron crouched down and spread his arms open to Jack, “hey little man! I’ve missed you! I love you so much!”

Jack giggled, “I love you, too, Daddy!”

As Jack filled him in on everything he’d missed over the last week and a half, you bent down and picked up the sign that had been tossed aside, knowing he’d want it back soon enough. You smiled softly to yourself, a warmth consuming you as you watched your favourite boys deep in conversation with each other. Every now and then, Aaron would look up at you, a smile creasing his eyes, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

Jack ended his excited rant with, “and then we made you a sign!..” he paused, “oh yeah! My sign!”

You and Aaron both laughed as you handed it to Jack and he turned to hold it up for Aaron to see. As his eyes skimmed over the lettering and he took it all in, he couldn’t help but smile at it all; yes, even at the little doodle of the puppy. “You made this just for me?!” Jack nodded his head furiously, and you heart swelled again as Aaron pulled him into another hug. “Thank you so much! I love it.”

“Mommy helped, too!” he beamed.

“Did she?” Aaron smiled up at you before looking back down at Jack, “well I guess I should probably thank her, too, don’t you think?”

Jack was nodding excitedly once again, as Aaron stood and made his way over to you. As he reached out, you eagerly wrapped your arms around his waist and pulled him close; the relief you felt in finally being able to hold him again was indescribable. As you rested your cheek against his chest, he held you tight with one hand on your lower back, the other carding through your hair gently.

Placing a tender kiss against the top of your head, he whispered a soft, “thank you,” against your hair, before dropping his head beside yours and sighing against your ear, “I love you.”

Catching him completely by surprise, you whispered quietly in his ear, “you can thank me later..” before you pulled back from his embrace nonchalantly, gazing up at him, “I love you, too, Aaron. Welcome home.”

A slight blush rose in his cheeks, and you smiled internally at how his pupils dilated. He just couldn’t help himself, as he leaned forward and placed a tender kiss to your lips. That’s when you both heard Jack immediately speak up with a playful, “ewwww gross!”

Laughing against his lips, you gave him one final peck before you both looked over and Jack. With both of you reaching an arm out to him, he raced towards you and wrapped each of his arms around your legs.

All three of you spent the evening curled up on the couch, enjoying snacks, and watching a movie of Jack’s choosing. He’d picked it out a few days earlier and had been dying for his dad to come home so you could all watch it together. It wasn’t long before you were listening to Aaron read Jack a bedtime story, before putting him to bed.

Before you knew it, you and Aaron were finally alone in your bedroom. Things started out rather innocent, with a few passionate kisses being shared as you both finished your night time routines. That’s how you’d found yourself here, standing in front of your dresser, a full length mirror just off to the side, as you took your earrings out and placed them on your jewelry tray.

Glancing to the side, you saw him in nothing but his boxers, the exhaustion on his face clear as day. You immediately felt a pang of regret at your suggestive comment about thanking you later. Even though you desperately wanted him, needed him, maybe he didn’t have it in him tonight. Truth be told, you were okay with simply curling up in bed together if he needed his rest.

As he took in the glorious sight of you in your favourite sleep set, he slowly made his way behind you. Gently grasping your hips, he placed a tender kiss against the back of your head. “I missed you so much.”

You melted into his touch, immediately resting your head back against his shoulder, “I missed you, too.”

He didn’t hesitate, dropping his head beside yours and placing tender kisses against the soft skin of your neck. You lifted a hand to caress the side of his face, before reaching farther and running your fingers through his hair. It wasn’t long before his kisses got more feverish, and his hands wrapped farther around your body.

“I can't wait for the way he puts it down. He’s so profound, the way he gets me going.”

“Aaron..” you whimpered, and he simply hummed in response. “We don’t have to tonight, if you don’t want to..” his large palms ran along the outside of your tank top. “You just got home.. if you need your sleep that’s okay.”

He brought his hands up to cup your breasts through the thin material. “No.. what I need is my wife.”

A soft moan escaped your lips, and you could feel him smile against your neck. “Okay,” you sighed.

As your body relaxed, you found yourself slowly moving your hips, grinding your backside against him, eliciting a groan from him. Seconds later he was shuffling to the side, and encouraging you to follow suit, until you were both standing in front of the full length mirror.

“The only thing that’s kept me sane this past week is knowing I was one step closer to coming home to you.” A deep sigh escaped your lips at his confession. He never talked about work, at least not in detail. You could only imagine the horrors he had to face on a daily basis. If he wanted to unwind, and needed you to help him do so, who were you to complain?

His cheek was now resting against the side of your head, as you both gazed at each other in the mirror. You used this opportunity to reassure him, “I’m right here,” as you placed your hands overtop of his that were still cupping your breasts, and squeezed gently. The smile that spread across his face made your heart flutter.

With one of his hands staying put, he slowly trailed his other palm down your body. You reached both of your hands behind you and pulled his hips even closer to yours, and could feel his excitement against your backside. He dropped his hand even farther and began massaging your core through your shorts. Releasing the air from your lungs slowly, your eyes drifted shut as you took in the feeling of finally having his hands on you once again.

It wasn’t long before he was sliding one foot between yours, hooking the inside of your ankle and pulling your legs apart for him. Almost simultaneously, he slipped his hand under the waistband of your shorts and underwear, gently running his fingertips along your folds. “You’re already so wet, sweetheart.”

Smiling, you hummed softly as you finally opened your eyes, “I told you I missed you.” The lust in his eyes was evident, as he finally made direct contact with your clit, causing you to gasp. Your breathing grew heavier and heavier by the second, and you found yourself unable to keep your eyes open yet again.

His eyes trailed across your body; the way your back arched, pushing your ass even closer to him, the way your hands grasped each of his arms, your fingertips digging into his flesh, and the way your head tipped back and your mouth dropped open in pleasure. He could watch you all day. You were gorgeous. You were sexy. You were captivating. To him, you were the definition of perfection.

Placing more kisses along your neck, he whispered against your skin, “open your eyes. Look how stunning you are.”

You responded immediately, lifting your heavy lids to trail your eyes along your body the way he had moments earlier. You however, were more focused on him; the way his hand moved effortlessly beneath the material, the muscles in his arm on display with every movement, and the way his chin rested perfectly on your shoulder, as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear.

“Feels.. so good..” you mumbled.

“Yeah?” he cooed, and you nodded enthusiastically, simply humming in response. “Does my girl want more?”

“Fuck.. please..” you moaned.

The smirk on his face was almost enough to do you in, as he reached his hand even farther down and slipped two fingers inside you with ease. The gasp that escaped your lips caused that smirk of his to spread even farther across his face, as you melted under his touch.

With a curling motion of his fingers, the palm of his hand resting right against your swollen bud, he started working you closer and closer to the edge. Grabbing hold of his hand that was still on your breasts, you slowly moved it farther up. He took the hint enthusiastically, as he carefully gripped your throat in his large hand, both of you revelling in the possessive feel of it; you were his and his alone.

“I can feel you, sweetheart,” he hummed against the side of your head, “you’re close aren’t you?”

“Yes.. fuck..” you moaned, “don’t stop.. you’re going to make me cum.”

His smile grew, as he continued with those same movements of his fingers deep within you, and before you knew it, you felt your body shiver as pleasure washed over you. Your knees shook, and your hips writhed under his touch, grinding your body into his once more. He could tell when enough was enough, because your whole body shuddered and a sharp exhale graced your lips.

“That’s my good girl.” Carefully pulling his fingers out from the material, he wrapped his arms around your waist and held you close, giving you all the support you needed as your body recovered. “Such a good girl.” He trailed tender kisses along the side of your neck, and across the top of your shoulder.

“I've got a man, but he's always out of town, I don't mind tho 'cause the pipe be good as fuck when he comes home.”

Opening your eyes slowly, your heart swelled as you watched him peppering your skin with gentle kisses. After soaking it all in for a little longer, you finally turned around in his embrace and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling his lips to yours passionately. As his skillful tongue slipped past your lips, you let out a gentle groan, with one of your hands finding it’s way into his hair.

Your other hand slowly trailed down the front of his body, your palm brushing against the exposed skin of his chest, before slipping under the waistband of his boxers and wrapping your fingers around his hard length. He exhaled deep against your lips, pulling away slightly to rest his forehead against yours, getting lost in the feeling of your hand finally around him again.

With a slow up and down movement, you took pleasure in the soft grunts that filled your ears, causing the aching between your legs to build once more. “I need you inside me..” your voice was desperate.

He didn’t hesitate, gently grasping your wrist and pulling your hand off him. Breaking away from you, he swiftly made sure the handle on the bedroom door was locked; if Jack got out of bed, you both wanted to avoid the situation you’d been in a few months back when he’d almost walked in on you two. Thankfully Aaron’s spider-like senses had picked up on the tiny footsteps making their way down the hallway before it was too late.

When he turned back around, he saw you already sitting with your legs crossed in the middle of the bed, condom in hand, as you slowly tore the package open. He couldn’t help the smile that formed on his lips, soon spreading across his entire face, the love he felt for you was indescribable. Discarding his boxers, he finally climbed onto the bed with you, sitting back on his heels.

His length stood at attention, as you tossed the foil to the side, before reaching forward and placing the condom on his tip, rolling it down his length. You purposefully took your time, gazing up at him and grinning proudly at the way his head tipped back and his jaw clenched. With your fingers still wrapped around him, you began moving your hand up and down once more, as you shifted so you were also kneeling.

His hands immediately found their way to your hips, as you began placing tender kisses across his chest from one shoulder to the other. You stroked his length a few more times before letting go, as you reached for the hem of your tank top and pulled it over your head. The second it was out of the way, his palms were sliding along your body, until he was cupping your breasts, twirling your nipples gently between his fingers. Your back arched, as you hooked your thumbs in the waistband of your shorts and underwear, shuffling on your knees to allow yourself to pull them off.

Tossing them to the side, both of you now completely exposed to one another, your lips connected passionately. Slipping one hand around your back, he leaned forward and encouraged you to relax against the mattress. You eagerly accepted his assistance, laying back and wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him impossibly close.

Placing one final kiss against your lips, he reached one hand down between your bodies, running his length through your wet folds. You both shivered at the feeling, knowing you’d both been starved and longing for this contact between you for too long. He looked back into your eyes, and you knew he was asking permission, as you nodded your head gently and he finally pushed his hips forward, filling you in a matter of seconds.

A low and breathy, “fuck,” escaped his lips, causing you to exhale deep, your body relaxing completely. He dropped his head beside yours, trailing sloppy kisses along your neck, as he began rocking his hips back and forth. The feeling was euphoric, the weight of his body on yours, his hot breath on your neck, and his pelvis rubbing perfectly against your clit.

The next thing you knew, he was hooking his arms under your legs effortlessly, pressing your knees against your chest, with your ankles over his shoulders. You gazed up at him, and with your eyes locked on his, he slowly bottomed out once more. Your breath escaped your lungs completely, as you whimpered, “Aaron..” and your eyes squeezed shut; the pleasure overwhelmed you.

This had quickly become one of your favourite positions. With you this spread open for him, both of you found yourselves unable to contain just how extraordinary it felt, and how deep he reached. You whimpered once again, as he slowly began moving in and out, and inch at a time.

“Fuck I missed you..” he breathed out heavy, one of his hands cupping the side of your face, “you feel so damn good..” With each long pull of his length out of your tight walls, he ran his thumb lovingly across your face.

Your eyes slowly opened, and you were met with the most beautiful sight, his face only inches away from yours, his eyebrows drawn together in ecstasy. It wasn’t long before he was also gazing down at you, gauging your reaction as he began picking up speed. The faster he moved, the closer your body got to reaching that peak. “Oh shit, oh fuck, you’re so deep.. Aaron, I can feel you everywhere..”

Your words caused a grin to spread across his face, one that completely captivated you, setting your nerve endings on fire. As your body began reacting to the overwhelming sensations, he could feel your walls clenching around him, “yeah, there you go. That’s my girl.” Your eyes flickered shut, as you focused on the feeling consuming your senses, peppered with his words of praise ringing in your ears. “Are you going to be a good girl cum for me, sweetheart?” He already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear you say it.

Nodding your head feverishly, a strangled, “yes.. fuck.. please don’t stop..”

Another smile pulled at the corners of his lips, clearly pleased with your answer. He took instruction well, not stopping until you’d had more than enough. You’d hardly had the chance to breath out a few strangled words, “I’m.. I’m going to cum..” when the dam finally broke. You felt a blissful fog cloud your mind, as he continued with the long drags of his hard length in and out of your now throbbing walls.

As he spoke, “good girl, you’re squeezing me so tight," your breathing caught in your throat. He still hadn’t stopped, wanting to draw out every ounce of pleasure he could for you. But when you’d finally reached the point of enough, you grasped his hips and pulled his body close to yours, holding him still.

Your legs trembled on either side of his head, as your lips parted and your eyes flickered shut. Breathing deep, you allowed yourself to simply enjoy how it felt finally being intimate with your husband, the love of your life, your person, once again. It didn’t matter how many times you felt him this close to you, you never took it for granted.

Slowly opening your eyes, you were greeted with a warm smile from him, as he placed tender kisses against the inside of your knee. His hand ran along your thigh, softly caressing your skin, eventually he looked back at you and spoke softly, “you’re okay, sweetheart?”

Your heart swelled, because as much as he was checking in on you, he was simultaneously asking if you were ready for more. With a deep exhale, you admitted, “yes.. more, please..”

He couldn’t help but smile at your eagerness, as he placed a gentle kiss to your forehead before finally moving his hips again. With every long stroke of his hard length between your walls, you felt his tip reaching the deepest parts of you, over and over and over again. Before you knew what hit you, that telltale sensation was back, and you felt the tension in your body snap.

After giving your body some time to recover, he did as he had minutes earlier, and asked if you still had more in you, to which you eagerly confirmed you did. As he began rocking his hips back and forth, every thrust pushed you closer and closer to the brink. And in a matter of seconds, he had you coming undone around him once more.

“Fuuuuuck, Aaron,” you whimpered, utterly breathless as your fourth orgasm gripped your body.

With those same tender kisses being placed against the inside of your knee, he caressed the side of your face as you came down from your high. “Shhhh, shh shh, there you go,” he cooed, “such a good girl. My good girl.”

As you let out another deep exhale, you smiled up at him blissfully, your eyelids heavy under the weight of the pleasure still coursing through your veins. You mumbled, “can you.. I want you to hold me..”

He brushed a few stray hairs out of your face, and spoke through a gentle smile, “okay.” Carefully pulling out of you, he helped you rest your legs against the mattress, before you rolled onto your side.

Adjusting himself, he found his way behind you, as he tucked one arm under you, and wrapping it around the front of your body. Using his free hand, he grabbed hold of himself and carefully searched for your entrance, before slowly pushing himself inside you once more. The quiet moan that escaped your lips brought a smile to his face, as he finally bottomed out. Placing a loving kiss against your shoulder, he grasped your hip, his fingertips digging into your soft skin, and began moving his hips against yours.

Nothing quite compared to feeling him inside you like this; the same way you curled up in bed together most nights, his tall frame encompassing you from behind, only now you were on the brink of yet another orgasm. Wrapping your arms around yourself, overtop of his arm, you slid one hand along the back of his, tucking your fingers between his, and squeezing tight.

It wasn’t long before he felt his body reaching the point of release, but he just needed you to get there one more time. Sliding his hand from your hip, around the front of your body, he nuzzled his fingers between your legs and began rubbing circles against your clit.

With his warm breath on your neck, his words of encouragement in your ear, you finally felt your body reaching the tipping point. “Ohhh yeah, just like that..” you moaned, “Aaron, you’re going to make me cum again.”

You could hear the smile in his voice, “good girl,” as he placed another kiss against your shoulder, “I’m close, too. Cum for me sweetheart.”

That was all it took, as your body summited that peak for the fifth time. With your legs shaking, and your body squeezing him tight, he held you even closer. With a few final shaky thrusts, he rested his forehead against the back of your head, and soft grunts filled your ears as he spilled himself inside the condom.

As you both caught your breath, he placed more tender kisses across your back, and against the side of your neck. “I love you so much,” he whispered.

You smiled softly, wrapping your arms even tighter around yourself, “I love you more.”

You heard a soft laugh from him, as he placed one more kiss against the back of your head, and slowly pulled himself out of you. You didn’t waste any time, rolling over to face him, and capturing his lips with your passionately. He responded just as eagerly, his tongue skillfully slipping past your lips, causing a soft groan to rumble in your chest.

Finally breaking away from the kiss, he asked through a cheeky smile, “was that a sufficient thank you?”

Letting out an airy laugh, you shook your head teasingly,“I guess it’ll have to do,” before pressing your lips to his once more. You could feel his smile against your lips, and you spoke softly once more, “I’m so happy you’re home.”

Brushing a few stray hairs out of your face, he cupped your cheek in his warm palm and kissed your nose gently, “I know, sweetheart,” another soft peck against your lips, “I am too.”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Tag List: @ssamorganhotchner ; @ccristata ; @anlin2058 ; @sannunah28 ; @hotchgirlsummer ; @mesnyder ; @red-red-rogue ; @chibsytelford ; @hannahufflepuff

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goosewriting · 6 months

Text

Across the Galaxy and Beyond

summary: some time after the Mantis crew split apart, Cal has an unexpected reunion with reader on Koboh

relationship: Cal Kestis x gn!reader

warnings: spoilers for Jedi Survivor, vague-ish mention of events from the Battle Scars book but i don't think it counts as a spoiler, hurt & comfort, flashbacks, kissing

word count: 8.9k 👀💧 ...i am unwell about this man what can i say

A/N: started writing this when i first started jedi survivor, and finally got around to finishing it now that i finished reading battle scars and the cal kestis brainworms are attacking me again. story doesn't follow the game exactly. also this could be read as a separate story from my wherever you go, i go trilogy, but i like to think it's the same reader and timeline lol so go read that if you haven't c:

Navigation: Part 1 (you’re here!) | Part 2 (wip)

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

— — — Part 1: Just like old times

After Cal's escape from Coruscant, the Mantis was pretty shredded. The main problem was the gyro, but upon entering Koboh's atmosphere, all systems started failing and the Jedi had to make an emergency landing somewhere on some cliffs.

It took a lot of climbing and wall-jumping and fighting the aggressive local fauna, but after a couple of hours, Cal and BD finally made it to the outpost where Greez' cantina was located. On the way there he also encountered bandits who called themselves the Bedlam Raiders, as well as old Separatists battleships and battle droids, of all things. Just what has Greez got himself into?, Cal thinks to himself after saving a local from Rayvis, the leader of the Raiders, and outing himself as a Jedi in the process.

When Cal and BD finally enter Pyloon's Saloon, they meet with Greez. Since the Raiders have just been at the saloon (and the place doesn't look all too inviting either), there are no customers, so Cal and Greez catch up at the bar. The Latero is extremely happy to see the boy and his droid in one piece after all this time. Over a drink, the redhead tells him about the last job on Coruscant gone wrong, how only two of them made it out. He expresses his frustration, how the Empire is only growing stronger and everything he does feels pointless. Things haven't been easy since the Mantis crew split up.

After catching up a little, Greez tells Cal that he has some spare parts and will take care of the ship. He'll send someone to bring the ship to the landing dock behind the saloon. In the meantime, he should take a breather and explore the outpost. Cal doesn't like feeling like he's wasting time, but with the state the Mantis is in, there really isn't much else he can do.

The Latero shows him the room in the basement, telling Cal he can stay as long as he needs. Greez wasn't kidding when he said he had a room just for Cal: there was a meditation area in the middle of the round room, and even his old clothes and some unfinished tech projects were all stashed away in a big chest.

They both sit down on the edge of the bed, and it doesn't take long for the conversation to take a direction Cal doesn't like. Not because what Greez is saying is wrong; on the contrary, he's probably right, but the redhead doesn't want to hear it. Not right now. Greez, in a genuinely concerned tone, goes on about how the game is rigged and Cal should walk away while he can, maybe even settle down somewhere. Cal lashes out for a moment, claiming someone has to keep fighting.

— — —

You approach the stable in the outpost riding on your nekko, humming a happy tune to yourself. You're lost in thought, letting your trusty mount walk the last stretch to the stalls by himself, as he knew the way. Once you reach the structure, you get off and start putting away your haul; you just came from a successful hunt. You'd skin and prepare everything later though, so you pack the preys away in special boxes where everything would be preserved for a couple of days.

“Hello master,” a robotic yet chirpy voice greets you.

You turn around with a smile, facing the Separatist battle droid you had found and reprogrammed to help you out at the stable.

“Hey there, Connor,” you greet back. You've told him several times not to call you that, but he insisted, saying you saved him and now his purpose was to serve you. You take a moment to inspect his blue and black markings that have started chipping more noticeably; maybe it's time for a new paint job.

“Did I miss anything while I was gone?” you ask, taking the saddle off your nekko and placing it onto the designated wooden beam.

“Yes, in fact,” Connor replies, placing new food and clean water in the trough. “There's a ship on the landing pad behind the saloon that I've never seen before.”

“Is that so? What kinda ship?”

“A modified S-161 Stinger, and it's pretty busted up. I'm surprised it even made it this far.”

You stop in your tracks, your grip tightening around the halter you just took off the nekko, which is now happily munching away on its fresh feed.

“Interesting,” you remark, putting the rest of the equipment away and turning around to face the droid. Since you spent most of the day down in some caves, you didn't see or hear anything. “Do you know who was on board?”

“I didn't see who came off the ship, but I overheard some prospectors talk about a newcomer that went one on one with Rayvis,” Connor comments, then leans in closer to you, looking around as if to make sure no one would be listening in on your conversations, when it's clearly just the two of you at the stable. “I also heard Turgle mentioning a Jedi being seen around here.”

“Huh,” is all you manage to say, feeling your heart pounding in your chest. There was no way he was here, right? After all this time? As far as you know, he doesn't even know you're here. So if it is him, he isn't here to see you, but Greez instead. It's probably because of the Mantis; Cal is in need of repairs. This thought immediately replaces the initial anticipation with a strange, cold feeling.

“Can you believe it?” Connor goes on. “I've never even seen a Jedi. I would love to meet them.”

You take a long look at the droid, remembering the state you had found him in. He had never been in the war, actually. He spent several years in an abandoned Separatist camp, never even getting to be activated. So he only knew his programming: serve the Separatists, fight the clones and kill the Jedi. Yet he had never lived any of it. Reprogramming him had been easy in that regard, as his memory banks were mostly blank. Back then you were looking for a droid companion to help you out at the stables, and even though you know what battle droids mean to the Jedi, you can't help but think that they are kinda cute. The B1 models, at least. The B2 series and commandos are pretty scary.

So you gave your new friend a name (you couldn't decide between Hank and Connor, but decided to go with the latter as it somehow suited his demeanour better) and a new purpose in life, and he seems content with that. The only fighting program you left in him is for defending the stable and nekkos. First and foremost it is his mission that they are not harmed. You also ordered him not to leave the outpost, for his own safety. You don't want the raiders to find him and get access to his memory bank. They would use the information against all of you at the outpost, and either scrap him or reprogram him to join the raiders. Once they were dealt with, however, you promised Connor you would take him around Koboh first, then show him the galaxy.

“I'm going to the saloon,” you announce. “Can you take care of the rest?”

“Roger roger!” Connor replies with a salute, getting to work.

You find yourself smoothing out your clothes and hair as you make the short trip to the saloon. When you reach the bar you're met with Monk, the witty bartender droid. He greets you with a happy tone and some strange phrase that you don't entirely understand, as he always does. You ask for Greez, and he points towards the door to the side, saying he's in the basement with some old friend of his that just dropped by.

With a gulp and a forced smile, you thank him and head down the stairs. The urge to turn on your heel and run away grows with every step. As you're about to reach the door, you hear voices coming from the other side.

“-to be something more than a lightsaber.” That's Greez, you think. He sounds… sad? “Think of yourself. Settle down, find a home.”

“What home, Greez?” You swear your heart actually stops beating and accelerates at the same time when you hear the voice, his voice. “There is no home. Home was the Order. It was my teacher.”

You've stopped a couple steps away from the door so it wouldn't open and have you interrupt the conversation, but you involuntarily lean forward to hear better what Cal says next.

“It was everyone I lost… Home was the Mantis with you, Cere, Merrin, and–”

The automatic door whooshes open and Cal and Greez turn their heads towards you as they stand up from the bed they were sitting on.

“I- I didn't mean to eavesdrop,” you sheepishly state after a moment of uncomfortable silence from everyone, approaching him but staying at a distance. “Hey, Cal. It's been a while.”

“Yeah, it has,” he retorts, and you can't really read the tone of his voice.

You look each other up and down, taking in how different you both look since… Since the last time you saw each other. Since you split up.

A thousand thoughts go through your head, and a thousand different feelings resurface, making your heart tighten in your chest, like there isn't enough space for everything it's trying to process.

Greez can't take the tension anymore, so he clears his throat loudly.

“Lemme show you something, Cal,” the Latero says as he walks towards a panel on the far side of the room. He presses a couple of buttons and a section of the wall slides open with a creak, revealing a path behind it. “This is an old smuggler's tunnel, you'll find spare parts in there. Just… be careful, I have a pest problem.”

With that, Greez walks by both of you, giving your arm an encouraging pat, before leaving the room. It's just you and Cal now.

“Spare parts?” you ask, trying to make some conversation. “For the Mantis, I take it?”

“Yeah,” Cal replies, looking at the tunnel entrance but not moving from where he stands. “Gyro's fried.”

You two stand there in silence, and you want to smack yourself in the face. You feel like an awkward 12-year-old all over again, not knowing how to talk to your cr– You stop your train of thought before you dare finish that sentence and potentially embarrass yourself further. The heat on your cheeks that refuses to leave your face since you've laid eyes on the Jedi can't possibly have gone unnoticed by him.

“You know, Greez has had this room set up for you for quite a while,” you tell Cal, shooting him a quick smile. “So I take it you'll be staying for a while, right? The Mantis isn't going anywhere.”

Cal shrugs and shoots you a quick, unsure glance, then casts his eyes back down, scratching the back of his neck.

“I was just about to head out,” you lie. Your plan for the evening was to have a drink at the bar and unwind, but him being here changes everything. “You could join me and I'll show you around if you'd like…”

Cal looks at the tunnel again, weighing the options in his mind. One is going down there to fix the Mantis as soon as possible, then taking off to who knows where. The other… you're not so sure. And if you're being honest with yourself, you're too scared to ask.

“Sure, why not,” he finally agrees with a sigh and starts walking towards the door that directly leads outside from the basement, but you feel like something, or rather someone, is missing. You look around the room, scanning your surroundings for a certain droid, then turn back to Cal.

“W-Where's BD?” you ask, fearing the worst. You'd really hate it if something happened to him.

“Oh, he wandered off somewhere earlier,” Cal says and you release a breath of relief. After calling for him, the little droid comes hopping down the stairs and into the room.

“BD!” you greet the little companion, and he excitedly beeps at your reunion. He comes running towards you and you pick him up in a hug.

“Oh, how I've missed you,” you spin him around a couple of times, then set him back down onto the floor. “I have a droid of my own now, but you're still the cutest. Don't tell him, though,” you add with a wink.

“You have a droid?” Cal asks as BD climbs onto his back and you all make your way out.

“Yeah, he helps me out at the stable,” you explain, pointing at the building as you reach the end of the stairs. The stable is practically behind the saloon. From these stairs it's a very short trek to reach the paddocks.

“Those are nekkos, right?” Cal questions, approaching the fence and looking at the two animals chilling in the sun. “I met Mosey earlier. She said she worked at the stable,” he turns around to look at you. “But she didn't mention you.”

You're about to retort by saying she couldn't have possibly known that you two knew each other, but you're interrupted by a chirpy voice.

“Master! You're back already?”

At the sound of the familiar robotic voice, Cal instinctively draws his lightsaber, and turns towards the side entrance to the stable. You hurry to get between your droid and the Jedi; you don't want to see Connor get sliced today. Not by him. Said droid peeks out from behind the archway, and BD beeps repeatedly, alarmed.

“Wait!” you exclaim, holding your hands up into the air defensively. “That's my droid!”

“Your- Your droid?” Cal repeats, clearly confused. He puts away his weapon nonetheless.

“He's reprogrammed, and he's never even been in the war,” you explain, walking backwards as Cal starts approaching the stable to inspect the battle droid further, with you still between them. “He was never even activated. He's good, I promise!”

“Master, who's this?” Connor asks, walking back into the stable to make room for Cal and you. “Is he bothering you?” The droid activates the blaster you had built into one of his arms, and Cal's hand goes to the hilt of his sabre again, while BD beeps in exasperation.

“No, stand down!” you order, and the blaster immediately turns off with a whirr. “Will everyone please calm down?”

Still standing between Cal and the battle droid, you let out a huff, looking from one to the other.

“Cal, BD; this is Connor, my droid,” you start introducing them. “My good and reprogrammed droid, whose mission is to protect the stable and the nekkos, nothing more.”

Cal seems unimpressed, still looking at Connor with narrowed eyes. You turn to the droid.

“Connor; these are Cal and BD,” you start. “And you know what? Cal here–” You look at Connor with raised brows and lower your voice. “–is a Jedi.”

Connor brings his hands up to where his mouth would be, gasping in surprise.

“You- You are?” he asks, quickly going around you to take Cal's hand and shaking it vigorously. “It's such an honour! I've always wanted to meet a Jedi!”

“So you could get up all close and stab me in the back?” Cal retorts, his voice laced with uncharacteristic venom, and pulls his hand from the droid's grasp.

“What? No, I–” Connor starts but you push him to the side a bit.

“It's okay, Connor. He'll warm up to you, eventually,” you comfort him. “Please go get the nekkos ready for us?”

You've never heard a sadder 'roger roger' in your life and it sends a sting of pain through your chest.

While the droid goes to prepare your mounts, you turn around to Cal and frown at him. He crosses his arms in front of his chest defensively.

“Why would you say something like that? He's genuinely excited to meet you,” you explain. “When was the last time someone was actually happy to see a Jedi, hm?”

“Not a battle droid, that's for sure,” Cal retorts with a huff.

You look up at him for a moment, holding his rather cold gaze. You wonder just what happened these past few years that had him like this. Sure, you understand why he isn't a fan of battle droids. Normally you aren't either. But there's just something about Cal that's… different. He looks older, but it might just be the beard. He also looks more tired, carries himself differently. With confidence like he always did, but also in a “don't mess with me” way that wasn't there before. Gone is the spark in his eyes, that glimmer of optimism and hope, replaced by the promise of not holding back if anyone were to cross him.

For several moments, you just look at each other, and you're sure he's analysing you just as you are him, and you wonder what is going through his head.

“The nekkos are ready,” Connor announces, leading both of them out of their respective stalls by the reins.

You allow the animals to sniff Cal and inspect him, while you give a short explanation on how to ride and guide them. Cal's mount is white with a dark face and legs, while yours is a dark purple and brown. After thanking Connor and waving him goodbye, you both hop onto the saddle and head out of the outpost. You know your way around, taking a route that would keep you hidden from the patrols, both the imperial ones as well as the raiders. You'd much rather deal with the local fauna. And you do come across a couple of rawkas at the river, and a pack of gorgers when heading further up the Southern Reach. But you two make quick work of them.

In fact, Cal has grown stronger, and not only that, but he also has a new array of weapons it seems; now he double-wields his lightsabers, and he also has a blaster, which completely takes you by surprise.

Once you reach the base of the big silo, you get off your nekkos and climb the rest by foot, getting on top of the structure and sitting at the edge. It's not a super well-hidden spot; if the patrols under you decide to look up they would definitely see you, but it's a good vantage point to show Cal the different places. You point towards the landmarks, explaining them to him so he can orient himself and navigate beyond the outpost. You tell him about the caverns, the mines, to look out for different patrols and what areas to avoid; be it because of the raiders, like fort Kha'lin, or because of bigger fauna like bilemaws, goroccos and mogus. Especially mogus. They are fierce.

Once you're done with your explanation, you lean back onto your hands with a sigh. Cal attentively listened to everything, but he doesn't seem interested in keeping the conversation going, as he hasn't said anything.

He's looking out, scanning this corner of Koboh as far as he could see from here, taking in the view and probably trying to commit to memory everything you've said. You look at him from the corner of your eyes, your gaze falling onto the holster on his hip.

“So,” you try starting the conversation again. “You now double-wield and you have a blaster. Which, by the way, is pretty uncharacteristic for a Jedi, no?”

“A lot has changed, I guess,” is all you get out of him.

“Do you have any other new tricks?” you ask, and the memory of him re-discovering his Master's lessons after his escape from Bracca comes back to you, making you smile fondly to yourself for a moment.

“Hmm,” Cal thinks aloud, also leaning back and finally tearing his eyes from the landscape to look at you. “There aren't any new Force-tricks, if that's what you mean. But I do have this.”

He brings one of his arms up, showing you the contraption on his brace.

“Grappling hook. Comes in pretty handy,” he explains, showing you some of the mechanisms. Your hands reach up to gently hold his wrist, so you can inspect the device better, and you could have sworn you heard his breath hitch at the contact. At that moment, you realise that's the first physical interaction you've had since he arrived, and you quickly let go.

“We should head back,” you say as you stand up, dusting off your legs. “It will get dark soon, plus you must be hungry. I know I am.”

“Yeah, I could eat,” Cal replies, getting up to his feet as well, and BD beeps in agreement.

Cal climbs down the silo first, while you scan the area one last time for any patrols. When it's your turn, just as you're almost at the base of the rather unstable ladder, your foot slips and you lose your balance. You hold onto the next best thing, which happens to be Cal. Seeing you're about to fall, his arm reaches around you and he pulls you towards him while with the other hand he tightly holds onto the railing that goes along the walls of the structure.

“You okay?” he asks, and when you look up at him this time, you're finally met with a pair of eyes that you recognise. There's concern in his gaze but also a certain warmth, amused at how you were a fierce warrior yet managed to be clumsy in small things like these. He found it cute, which you knew for a fact because he would tell you often, back then…

“Y-Yeah, thanks,” you mutter, separating yourself from him now that you're back safe on the ground. Feeling the heat spreading on your face, you can't help a sheepish smile. “Guess some things never change, heh.”

“Guess not,” Cal says with a small smile of his own, and your chest tightens at the sight.

The ride back to the Outpost is silent, and you wonder if his body is also reacting as strongly as yours; ever since slipping, your skin feels like it's tingling, and your heart hasn't calmed down in the slightest.

Once you're back at the stable and the nekkos have been taken care of, Connor mentions that Greez left some food for you, and hands you several small containers wrapped with a cloth.

“You wanna eat at my place?” you find yourself asking Cal, who's scratching behind the nekko's ear. He turns around to you with raised eyebrows in what you assume to be a surprised expression, but he's quick to relax his face back to normal.

“I have a room behind Doma's shop,” you explain, holding up the food in your hands and you gesture to it with your chin. “And Greez knows this is far too much food for myself.”

“Yeah, sounds good,” Cal replies, calling BD back to him, who was scanning some stable equipment. “Let me help you with that.”

Cal takes the food off your hands, and you say your goodbyes to Connor, who stays at the stable. It's a quick trip past the saloon's entrance into Doma's shop. She's behind the counter organising some of her merchandise, and returns your “hello” from afar without looking. Only when she hears Cal's greeting does she turn around. She shoots you a look and you know exactly what she means, heat prickling again at your cheeks. You give a curt shake of your head, quickening the pace to evade Doma's questioning, heading for the door at the back that leads to the place you have been calling home for the last year.

It isn't much, but it makes do: one big room, that's both kitchen and a living space, with two doors at the far side that lead to a small bedroom and the refresher. The main room is decorated, you like to think it's warm, cosy and inviting. You even managed to thrift an old couch somewhere, refurbished it yourself, and it now essentially serves as the centrepiece of the room. There are several rugs on the floor, as well as piles of pelts and leather in the corner that you still have to finish working on so you could sell them. These days that's your main source of income.

Cal stands at the door for a moment, taking everything in, and you suddenly feel very self-conscious. The space is clean, but the fact that you can't read his face makes you a little nervous. To distract yourself, you take the food from him, bringing it to the kitchen counter.

“I think the food is still warm,” you say as you start opening the containers, the delicious smell filling both your noses. “Do you mind setting the table?”

Cal and you make quick work of getting everything plated and grabbing some drinks, then sitting down in front of each other at the wooden table to eat. You make some light conversation between bites, catching each other up on what has been going on in your lives recently. He tells you about some of the missions he's been on ever since the Mantis crew split up, and you tell him of your own solo adventures before you came to Koboh.

When the plates are empty, your bellies full, and the conversation is about to die down, you ask if you can check out Cal's lightsabre. He unclips it from his belt to hand it to you, and you catch yourself being relieved at the fact he still trusts you enough to just give his sacred weapon to you without further inquiry.

He's changed some parts and the materials, and you hold the device in your hands with the utmost care, admiring the beautiful design and intricate markings on the wooden accents. Rather suddenly, a feeling of regret and shame spreads out in your chest, thinking about how not only this sabre but also Cal himself went through so many changes, and you hadn't been there for any of it. There's so much you want to tell him, about how sad you are that you weren't there for him, about how sorry you are with the way you left, about how you've been thinking of and missing him every single day. But telling him that wouldn't be fair. You have no right to be selfish like that.

“So what exactly happened that got the Mantis in such a state?” you decide to ask instead, reaching the lightsabre over the table to give it back. Cal takes it with a deep sigh, putting it back to his belt, feeling immediately comforted by its familiar weight.

“A job on Coruscant that went… wrong,” he starts, telling you how his team was gathering intel for Saw Guerrera, and it had all worked out until the very last moment, where everything went wrong, and he lost his whole crew in an instant. Only him and another person made it out of there. In fact, one of his crew members saved his life by pushing him out of the way and taking the blaster shot herself instead.

You listen intently, and your heart grows heavier by the second; you can hear the frustration in his voice, the voice of a man who's this close to giving up entirely, because he's just so tired, but he can't. He won't. You know Cal took it upon himself to fight the Empire by himself if he has to. A trait you genuinely admire but also despise. After all, that was one of the reasons you left.

Then he mentions the Ninth Sister, and your attention is fully back to what he's saying.

“I tried to get through to her, I really did,” Cal says, his voice cracking for a second. “But she wouldn't let up. I had no choice.”

“Did you…?” you ask carefully.

“I killed her,” he says matter-of-factly, but you can tell it's been eating away at him.

“I'm so sorry, Cal,” you offer, reaching across the table and placing your hand on his. “That couldn't have been easy. I'm sorry you had to go through that.”

He doesn't meet your eyes, his gaze fixed on his half empty cup instead, watching the drops of condensation slowly fall along the outside of the glass onto the table, staining the wood. But he doesn't pull away either, so you give his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“You look exhausted,” you finally tell him, and he lets out a breath through his nose, as if saying 'you have no idea'. You offer for him to take a shower here instead of at the saloon before heading back, telling him yours is nicer, to which he chuckles lightly, and he accepts.

He insists you take a shower first while he takes care of the dishes, so you do just that. Once you're out, it's his turn. You hand him a towel and a change of clean clothes, and you can tell he wonders why you have them in his size, until he realises that they're actually his. It's an old shirt and lounge pants that you would always steal from him and had apparently taken with you. He doesn't comment on it though, instead he simply stares at the clothes in his hand for maybe a second too long, deep in thought. Then he blinks a couple of times, as if he just came back from zoning out, gives you a short 'thanks' and gets into the shower.

While he cleans up, you take a seat on the couch, pulling up the novel you're currently reading on your holopad. Only now that you're sitting with your legs stretched out along the length of the cushions do you realise how tired you are, both physically and emotionally. Out of everything you could have thought would happen today, meeting Cal was certainly not on the list. Still, you can't deny that you're happy to see him. For starters, he's still alive. And you've missed him, much more than you care to admit to yourself.

After reading the same sentence of your book over and over, failing to focus, you sigh and look at BD instead, who hops onto the coffee table and tilts his head at you with an inquiring beep.

“Has he been taking care of himself?” you ask the droid, pointing over your shoulder in the direction of the refresher, where you can hear the water running.

BD lets out a sequence of beeps and boops, and you narrow your eyes at him for a moment. 'He keeps himself busy' he said. Is he dodging your question?

“Is that so,” you reply with a hum, and BD shoots the question right back at you. You're a bit surprised at his concern, and for a moment you consider opening up to the little droid, but you hear the water turn off, so you bring your attention back to your book again instead, trying your darndest to focus on what's happening in the story. The washroom door opens with a whoosh.

“Where should I put the towel?” Cal asks, still standing at the door frame.

“Just put it in the hamper underneath the sink,” you reply over your shoulder, and in the corner of your eye you can see BD still looking at you, waiting for an answer. Then he tilts his head with an amused boop; he's got you all figured out.

“Oh shush you,” you start scolding the little droid, but Cal appears, walking around the couch to sit down. Except that your legs are stretched across it, so you start lifting them off the cushions and intend to bend them at the knee to sit properly, but Cal gently grabs your ankles, lifting them off the couch to sit down, and places them over his lap instead. His hand comes to rest on your shin, and you can feel the warmth he irradiates seep through the fabric of your pants.

“You looked comfy,” he points out, his hand gently rubbing up and down below your knee, while with his other hand he props up his head against the back of the couch.

You swallow hard, unable to answer, and bring the datapad up to your face to hide behind it. Why is he being so nice suddenly? Is it because you aren't outside where others could see? Or is it because he realised he still has you wrapped around his finger so he's just teasing you? You're beyond confused at the sudden sign of affection after he's been so distant the whole day, like he hadn't planned on ever seeing you again. And to be quite honest, you deserve the cold treatment. After what you did, the way you left.

Feeling the sting behind your eyes, knowing what's coming, you shrink further into yourself, holding the holopad even closer to your face to hide it from Cal's view. He can't see your expression from where he's sitting, so he gives a light chuckle, thinking you're just flustered. The sound feels like a dagger in your gut, and you unsuccessfully choke back sob.

Now Cal's face changes completely to one of concern, and he pushes the pad out of the way only to be met with your crying face.

“Whoa, wait-“ Cal says, and he retrieves his hands, holding them both up in surrender. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to- I thought we-“

“I'm so sorry, Cal,” you croak, crying freely now, as you let go of the device and it falls onto the floor with a 'clunk'. “I'm so sorry for everything, for what I did. For leaving you alone.” Your hands wipe away at your cheeks in a vain attempt to dry off the tears, but they just keep coming.

After the crew split up, the Mantis felt unbearably empty. After the failed mission on Hosnian Prime, after saying goodbye to Fret and Irei, who had definitely changed the dynamics of the crew (you still weren't sure if it had been for better or worse), everything felt like it started falling apart.

The first to leave was Merrin, saying she needed to recentre her fire and find herself again, to be able to draw all the power she now knew she was able to use.

Then, it was Cere and Greez. The Latero trusted Cal and left his beloved ship in his hands, telling him to look after it until he'd be back. Except everyone knew that he didn't really intend to. The loss of his arm had hit him harder than he wanted to admit, and for Greez it had been the wake-up call needed to “leave the game while you can because it's been rigged since the start”, as he would often say. Cere on the other hand took off with new-found determination. Her and Cal's goals weren't all that different: the endgame was to defeat the Empire, one way or another. However, Cal believed in taking action now, while Cere had her sights set on the future, being able to help those who would come next, long after she and everyone else were gone. She wanted to build a legacy, as the 'Jedi's knowledge was far too valuable to be lost to time and circumstance.

After everyone was gone, it was just Cal, BD and you.

The Jedi had become irritable, like he had already convinced himself that you would leave him soon too, as did everyone, apparently. You reassured him to the best of your abilities that you believed in what he stood for and wanted to stay by his side. However, now that you didn't have a whole crew to count on, you had to be more careful than ever.

“We have to be smart about this!” you'd plead, seeing Cal running head-first into danger time and time again.

When the nightmares became too much, you'd hold him tightly, kissing his tears away as he'd cry out for his master, Tapal.

“You were just a kid!” you had yelled at Cal one time, when what was supposed to be a quick run-down of the plan had become a big argument. “You act as if the whole universe is counting on you and only you to defeat the beast that is the Empire. Do you think that that's your destiny? As dictated by the Force? We've had our share of big, successful missions as a group. Now it's time to back down, Cal. We're just two people, what do you expect we'll achieve here? It's time to move on.”

Needless to say, those words had not calmed Cal down in the slightest. Now he felt just as betrayed by you as he did by the rest. More words were thrown at each other like daggers finally let free after being pushed back for far too long in an attempt to keep some level of normalcy between you two. But there was no going back. So you did what you told him as well: you moved on. That same evening, you packed your things and left.

Your heart bled and tears kept streaking down your face with every heavy step you took away from the Mantis, but at the time, you didn't know what else to do. You'd never wanted to leave Cal, and you hated yourself for doing this to him and to yourself, but what you had going on was no way to live anymore. Maybe, hopefully, now that you were gone, he would understand that.

You know it had been a horrible thing to do, especially like that. After years of telling him how you'd follow him to the end of the world. After telling him every day how much you loved him. After promising you'd be there for him. The worst part was that being away from him was far more painful than it was with him. He left a void in your heart that only he could fill. You meant to go looking for him many times, but were too scared. You didn't deserve to have him back. Not after what you did.

But now he's here.

Between cries, you apologise over and over again, saying how what you did wasn't fair, that you wished you had never left and worked it out instead, that you missed him so much it was hard to breathe.

Cal doesn't answer immediately, and you force your somewhat blurry gaze up to meet his eyes, and you see he's starting to tear up himself. He leans forward, lifting you up and settling you sideways onto his lap, enveloping you in a bone-crushing hug. You hold him just as tightly, crying into his shoulder.

“I'm sorry,” The more you say it, the emptier it feels, but it's all you can manage for now, and you mean it. “I really am.”

“I know,” Cal says, squeezing you a little tighter. “I felt it. When you gave me the clothes earlier.”

You remember the countless nights you've cried yourself to sleep in the very clothes he's now wearing, the times when you missed him so much you felt like your heart would rip its way right out of your chest, muttering your regrets into your pillow, as if it could carry your apology and bring it to Cal somehow. You groan in embarrassment; you always forget that your stuff also carries imprints he can feel.

“I'm so lame,” you mumble and pull back to look at Cal, giving him a weak smile that quickly turns into a grimace again as a new wave of tears come rolling down your cheeks.

“No, you're not,” Cal reassures you, one hand cupping your face and wiping over your cheekbone with his thumb. You lean into his touch with a sniffle.

“I've missed you too,” he finally says, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. “And I'm sorry—” He kisses your cheek. “—for making you feel like you were less important than the missions.” A kiss to the corner of your mouth. “You're the best thing that ever happened to me and I took you for granted.” His lips brush over yours. “Can we try again?”

You close the minimal gap and kiss him hard, like Cal was the air your lungs needed after being underwater for too long. He reciprocates just as intensely, pushing you down onto the couch and climbing on top of you. When he finally breaks the kiss, you're both panting. You run your fingers through his hair as he trails kisses along your jaw, and you giggle at how ticklish his beard feels against your skin; that's a new sensation you'd have to – no scratch that, want to – get used to. Your giggles turn into a low moan as he bites the spot over your collarbone, and when you turn your head to give him better access, you're met with BD still on the coffee table, now sitting comfortably, looking up at you two as if it was the most interesting spectacle in the world.

A strangled sound of surprise and embarrassment comes from your throat and you push Cal away a bit by his shoulders, to which he raises his head and grumbles in annoyance for interrupting him.

“We have an audience,” you whine, hiding your face behind your hands, and Cal lets out an amused laugh. BD beeps matter-of-factly.

“What do you mean 'don't mind me'?!” You turn to the droid and you swear that if he had a face, he'd be wearing the cockiest of grins right now.

“Some things really never change, huh,” Cal comments with an amused smile, thinking back to all the times you'd become flustered when you kissed in front of BD, saying it was inappropriate or something. If only you knew that Cal often did it on purpose because he loved seeing your cute, flustered face.

“Unlike this right here,” you point out and bring your hands to his face, stroking over his beard, enjoying the prickly sensation. “This is new.”

“Do you like it?” Cal asks genuinely.

“You know I like your scars,” you say, tracing over the one on his lower lip. “As long as they're not covered up, I think I can get used to it. It does look good on you.”

Cal smiles down at you tenderly and for a few moments, you simply enjoy each other's presence, taking each other in. Making sure that this is real and it's happening, that you're back again. Until you let out a hearty yawn.

“Let's get to bed before we fall asleep on the couch,” you say, rubbing your face, but stop to look up at Cal, who seems very content with his current position and hasn't moved yet. “You are staying here tonight, right? I mean, if you want to, you don't have to. Greez has the whole room thing for you, so I understand if—“

Cal interrupts your rambling with a quick peck.

“Yeah, I want to stay,” he assures you and finally stands up, helping you get off the couch.

“Let's go, BD,” you tell the droid to join you as you take Cal's hand and guide them to the bedroom.

You climb into bed, BD at your feet as he would always do on the Mantis, and Cal lifts the covers to get in as well but stops for a moment when he sees the holopicture on your night stand. In the small frame he recognises Greez, Cere, Merrin, Cal, BD and you in the cockpit, all grinning at the camera. Smiling to himself, he finally gets into bed, hugging you to him.

“I have the same picture of us on the Mantis,” he says after letting out a content sigh at finding a comfortable position. “Guess we still were connected somehow all this time.”

You hum in response, a bit surprised at the romantic implication, as if you were lovers who found comfort in looking at the same moon even though you were separated. But you like the idea nonetheless, and you agree.

The warmth both on your skin and spreading in your heart makes quick work of carrying you off to dreamland though, so before you can even give a proper reply, you're fast asleep in Cal's arms.

— — —

The next morning, you wake up to BD's beeping. You groan, turning over to cuddle a little longer, except that the other side of your bed is empty. You blink away the sleepiness in your eyes, and pout at the lack of Jedi in your sheets. Your nose is quick to pick up the scent of freshly brewed caf however, and the grogginess is quickly forgotten as you get out of bed and make your way to the kitchen, where Cal is preparing breakfast.

After a quick meal and lots of stolen kisses, Cal announces it's time to go check out Greez's smuggler tunnel to find that gyro.

“Be careful,” is the last thing you tell him before he leaves.

“Always,” he shoots back at you with a wink and takes off. You playfully roll your eyes at that, thinking back to the countless times on the Mantis you've had to patch him up after a mission inevitably went astray from the original plan.

While Cal is looking for parts for the Mantis, you go back to your own things, checking in on Connor and the nekkos at the stable, as well as preparing some pelts and sewing up your most recent leather project.

Time goes by fast as you skilfully work the needle and thread through the thick material, finishing the piece after a couple of hours. Setting it aside, you stretch your arms and back with a satisfied grunt. You check to see if your comms are working; they are, but there's no new messages. Strange, you think, Cal sure is taking his time to find that gyro. Is he not back yet?

Suddenly feeling uneasy by your own thoughts of how he might have got lost in the tunnels, or how he may have encountered trouble down there, you decide to go check with Greez yourself.

You quickly make your way to the Saloon, going down the stairs that lead to the bar with such speed that when you reach the end and see someone standing there, you bump into them before you can stop yourself.

“Whoa,” a deep voice exclaims at the impact, and you push yourself away from the man's back you just ran into. He turns around slightly towards you. “You okay?”

“Yeah, sorry, didn't see you there” you reply, regaining your composure and walking around him to get a better look.

He's not super tall, but he has a strong and broad build. Although you already felt that when you bumped into him and it was like walking into a wall. You give him a quick up-and-down, trying to gauge if he's friend or foe, but you can't quite read him. He narrows his eyes at you ever so slightly, probably doing the same.

“A new face, how rare,” you start, walking over to the bar and leaning on it with one arm. Your other hand finds its way to your hip, where you realise there is no holster or weapon; you mentally reprimand yourself for leaving your staff at the stable.

“Care for a drink?” asks Monk from behind you.

“No, I'm looking for someone,” the man says.

“Of course you are,” Monk replies with sarcasm. You give the bartender droid a nod; you'll take care of this. As he wheels back into the kitchen, you hear him mutter something about how his bar isn't a lost and found counter. Before the stranger can go on however, the doors at the back of the saloon whoosh open.

“Who's this?” asks Greez as he enters the main room.

“I was just about to ask him,” you reply, your eyes still trained on the man.

“I'm looking for Cal Kestis,” the man in question says instead, and your hand on the bar involuntarily curls into a fist.

“Who? Kal Restis?” Greez asks as he approaches him. “We don't know any Kales. Listen, if you're not gonna order something, get out of my saloon.”

“No, not Kale”, the man says, getting slightly exasperated as he repeats the name slower, and Greez keeps getting it wrong on purpose.

Just as you're about to intervene and send the man away, the entrance doors open and in comes Cal, a soft smile of self-satisfaction on his face.

“Cal!” The man greets the Jedi. You hear Greez mutter “Oh, this Cal Kestis” under his breath as they clearly recognise each other.

“I found the gyro,” Cal announces first, throwing a small mechanical part to Greez, who's taken by surprise but still catches it. Then he turns to the intruder with a smile. “You made it!”

“Good to see you, Cal,” he replies, and the two share a friendly handshake.

“Greez Dritus, this is Bode Akuna,” Call starts introductions, telling this Bode your name as well. You merely give him a short nod in acknowledgment as Cal continues. “He was on Coruscant. Wouldn't have made it out alive without his help.”

Oh, that changes things.

You leave your spot at the bar and drop your rather cold gaze to join the group. Coming to stand next to Cal, you take his hand, and try your best to give Bode a thankful smile. He returns it, quickly catching on.

“Wait a minute. Another one?” Greez quips, looking behind Cal. You were so focused on Bode, that you hadn't even noticed the strange looking droid that came in with the redhead. “Cal, you have a very bad habit of picking up strays.”

“I am ZN-A4,” the droid introduces herself with an exaggerated bow. The design and material she’s made of is something you’ve never seen before. “Humble servant of the Jedi Order.”

What.

“Oh, I take it you haven't broken the news yet,” Bode says to Cal, who sheepishly shrugs his shoulders.

Cal then brings everyone up to speed, telling you how when he was in the tunnels with BD, they stumbled upon this old chamber where the droid was stuck, so they freed her. Turns out she's a droid that belonged to a Jedi from the High Republic, of all things. Her master, Sandari, had sent her to activate the so-called forest array (that strange building the other side of the river that doesn't quite fit in with the rest of the scenery; you've always wondered what it was but never found a way to get in). However, Zee, as everyone started calling the droid, is in really bad shape, and she'll never make it that far. She looks dejected as she says that if she fails her mission, then the key to Tanalorr may be lost forever.

At the mention of the name, Greez chimes in, telling the group that there's an old prospector legend about Tanalorr being a world filled with treasure. But treasure or not, the important part is that it seems to be a real place, one potentially beyond where the Empire can reach: a safe haven.

Zee is delighted and very thankful that everyone seems on board with her mission, and the group is quick to formulate a plan: while Monk gets her up to speed regarding the state of, well, everything, and she gets some much-needed repairs, Bode and Greez will take care of the Mantis. Meanwhile, Cal, BD and you will go to the forest array to check it out.

As you're making your way to the stables, you nudge into Cal's side with your elbow.

“You didn't get hurt down there or anything, right? You sure took your time,” you ask him. It did not go unnoticed by you how in Cal's retelling of events, he skilfully left out how he happened to find that mysterious chamber in the first place.

“The tunnels were pretty old and unstable, but we're okay,” Cal deflects, shooting the droid a quick look. “Right BD?”

BD beeps in response, and you shoot Cal a glare accompanied by a muted gasp, stopping in your tracks.

“You fell through a hole the equivalent of several stories?!” You can't believe this guy.

“It's fine!” Cal tries to reassure you, bringing his hands up to your shoulders. “I promise, it's nothing a stim didn't already fix. So there’s no need to worry, okay? We have a job to do.”

You sigh in defeat as he places a soft kiss on your forehead. You first cup his face softly, then pinch both his cheeks.

“Just what am I going to do with you, Cal Kestis?” you ask rhetorically, taking his hand into yours and resuming the short trek to where Connor is already waiting and waving at you both.

Once you're all geared up and hop into the saddle, you tighten the strap of your staff, adjusting its position on your back.

“Just like old times, huh?” you ask at no one in particular, scanning your surroundings and taking in the scenery; it just never gets old. Cal's nekko trots up next to you.

“Just like old times,” he repeats, with that boyish smile you can't get enough of, and the glint of adventure in his eyes.

Your nekkos take off, and the freckles on his face seem to shine in the sunlight. They form the ever familiar star map that you'd follow time and time again, finding your way back to him. Because from the first time you looked at him, you knew: you'd follow this man across the galaxy and beyond.

— — —

A/N 2: if you understand the droid name reference you get a cookie 🍪

A/N 3: in the book Battle Scars there’s a part where BD tells Cal, and i quote, “Where you go, I go”, and when i tell you that i screamed omg (the first part of my “wherever you go, i go” fic was actually called ‘where’ but i changed it to ‘wherever’ when i added more chapters because to me it sounded better asdsdf) BD-1 and me sharing one brain cell obsessed with Cal fr😌

~~~~~

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

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