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#i don’t where i was going with this set tbh but whatever
dramaism · 2 years
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#sure, jan kinn
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evansbby · 9 months
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scar-crossedlvrs · 10 months
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All hail ID! Leon!!! I’m wondering how he would reacts when his Reader! young gf got kidnapped or been taken as hostage. Let’s just say maybe she got at the wrong place wrong time? Chris and Leon partnered up to save her 🫢 (I don’t want Leon go thru this alone, he got enough shit already tbh)
(I don’t know if you’re gonna write this up or not but whatever it is, stay safe and take care of yourself gorl 🩵)
Leon S Kennedy - Help Me
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ID!Leon is my favorite Leon no questions about it. I have this headcanon that ID!Leon is the one with the most confidence in his skills & second most optimistic Leon era just due to his successes ( saving ashley and the ‘dozens of successful missions’ that shen mei references ). Anyway, watch me rip that all away in one fell swoop.
cw for : f!reader, kidnapping, swearing, blood mention, implied age gap (up to you tbh), reckless driving, chris redfield, it’s mostly just a mess of angst and anger.
gentle reminder that all of my works sfw or not are intended for 18+ audiences.
The inbox is open for requests.
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How many times had he told you to lock the goddamned doors?
Fingers drum against the steering wheel as he weaves in and out of traffic. His phone trilled in his ear as he drove and the longer it rang, the more his gut bubbled with anxiety.
“Pick up the fucking phone Redfield.”
The scene was still vivid in his mind. Your front door slightly ajar as he pulled up to your house. Leon had immediately been put on edge by this. The overwhelming feeling of panic however, didn’t set in until he noticed the bright red smear across the white painted wood.
Inside the house wasn’t much better, turned over from top to bottom. Every single one of your meticulously placed photos and knickknacks were strewn smashed on the floor, broken glass, plastic and porcelain everywhere. All decorated with a spattering of red. The same scene played out in each and every one of the rooms. It didn't seem to be a run of the mill robbery though. Nothing of value was missing, nothing besides you.
The worst part was the way your phone went to voicemail every single time he called.
“Hello?”
Leon’s torn from his thoughts at the sound of the voice on the other end of the phone. Chris Redfield.
“Answer the phone any slower?” he’s snappy, frustrated, scared.
It must have been obvious, with the way the concern laced into Chris’s words. “Leon? Is something wrong?”
“She’s gone, Chris. The house is a mess and her phone just goes straight to voicemail. Someone was there, and I think they took her.”
The word vomit just spews from his lips as he switches lanes again, white-knuckling the steering wheel as icy eyes dart around. He’s not sure where he’s going, what he’s looking for. He’s not sure of anything anymore.
Had he gotten too cocky, too lax in his security? Everything had been going so well since Ashley. He had been saving people. What the fuck went wrong? Fuck, he should have pressed the issue harder when he asked you to move in with him. At least there he could have kept a better eye on you, kept you safe. This wouldn’t have happened.
Leon was spiraling.
“Are you still with me, Kennedy?” Chris’s voice broke through the haze again.
"Yeah." Barely.
"You sure she was at home? She's probably just not answering your calls."
Chris didn't know you, didn't know that you didn't just ignore phone calls, especially not his calls. You weren't just ignoring him.
"I wouldn't have called you if I thought she was just ignoring my calls. The place was torn up Redfield. Whoever it was, was looking for something. There was blood fucking everywhere." His words came out more aggressive than intended.
They had to, he needed to get his point across.
“Okay, yeah that’s bad. But I can’t just get clearance to do anything..”
“I’m not asking you to deploy the BSAA. I’m asking you to help me” Leon cut him off.
The silence that hangs makes him regret calling Chris. Had he made a call to the wrong Redfield? He should have just called Claire. She wouldn’t have hesitated so much, wouldn’t have wasted so much time. That was if she even picked up the phone.
Either way, for once, he couldn’t do this on his own. Not like this.
"Go home. I'll meet you there. We'll figure this out okay? Don't do anything stupid Leon."
"Yeah."
---
Your head is aching, forehead damp with sweat or blood ( you're not sure which ), feet sore and bloodied from stumbling through the shattered glass on your living room floor. Eyes are covered with a thick blindfold, and the room is dark and quiet.
All alone with your thoughts. Thoughts of how you ended up here. How you had been so distracted, unable to notice the men coming in through the unlocked front door. One snatching you up as the other set out to look for something, smashing everything in his path. Your screams fell on deaf ears, feet being dragged through the mess on the floor as you struggled to break free.
Until a sharp pain to the back of the head forced you into unconsciousness.
There's the sound of shuffling, metal clinking, and there's something pressed to your ear. A phone? There's a few moments of trilling rings before a voice answers with a panicked "Hello?"
"Leon?"
Your voice is hoarse from the screaming earlier, and tears sting at your eyes.
"Baby where are you?" You've never heard him sound like this, scared.
"I don't know, Lee. Help me. I don't know where I am. It's dark and I'm scared."
Before he can respond, the phone is pulled from your ear. The scream ripped from your throat as his voice was cut off by the phone being hung up. A sharp laugh caused a shiver to course through you as you struggled against your bindings.
"Think that got his attention, hm princess?"
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uh i don't know where I was going to go with this, meaning cliffhanger!!! one person says they want more & i'll plan out more <3
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atiny-moon · 8 months
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ATEEZ as Boyfriends
Genre: soft, fluffy, suggestive
Pairing: ot8 x gn!reader
Tags: a little bit of everything <3
Word Count: 1.6K
HONGJOONG
Definitely the type of bf to fix your clothes - like if you’re going out somewhere, i can see him helping you pick out smth to wear or even styling you himself. And when you two are out, he’s constantly adjusting your fit so you don’t look bad. The type of guy wander off in the middle of a party just so he can admire you from afar
Though he isn’t too fond of being overly emotional, will hype you up to anyone who would listen and not even in an annoying way, it just so happens that the majority of his sentences start off with ‘oh, my partner..’
Loves leaving marks - biting, hickies, etc. in places only he knows about
Will call you every time he’s eating, even if he doesn’t say anything, just bc he missed you and wanted to have you around for a little bit
Doesn’t like to cuddle but does give the best kisses the kind where he just holds your chin in place and plays with the ways his lips touch yours
Ultimate king of push and pull
SEONGHWA
Ugh, the way this man would absolutely dote on his partner. Anything they wanted - he’d be all over it. Think acts of service type of love
Loves all the cheesy romantic shit, all of it - the matching accessories, matching hairstyles, coordinating outfits, taking an insane amount of cute couple photos, going to the most aesthetic date spots just so y’all can take photos together. Knows your best angles, duh
So many gifts. And expensive gifts, too! Hwa’s got super expensive taste and i feel like he’s the type of bf to dote on you so much that he wouldn’t want you to wear inexpensive clothing. Like he’ll be like, ‘oh, babe, i got you these new silk pajamas because you said mine were so comfy’ meanwhile he’s already replaced like all of your clothes
Super comfy stay-at-home dates where you do skincare and watch the latest episode of whichever drama you’re watching. Even when he’s hella busy, he’d find time to video call you so you could watch the newest episode together.
Always smells incredibly good, addictive even
Forehead kisses & top of the head kisses are his favorite
YUNHO
Textbook romantic gentleman. The type that makes sure you walk on the inside of the sidewalk, opens every door for you, never ever lets you lift a finger, and will always give you his jacket if you’re cold
Super sentimental. Like if you put together a scrapbook of all of your time together, guaranteed this man will cry. Especially if there’s a handwritten letter explaining how much you love him - he would simply be undone
Tries to remember every single detail about you so he can either plan the perfect date or gift you the perfect item. Truly works soo hard at being a good boyfriend. Also really good with birthdays. Like, scary good.
And tbh, the type of bf to call you out on your bs - like when you’re being a little unreasonable or if you’re telling him about a situation that you’re going through, i think yunho would be the type of bf to tell you when you’re wrong but in a nice way! (maybe.. he can be kinda savage sometimes lmao)
While I don’t think he’d be super into PDA i do think he’d just always be near you like close enough to reach out and hold his hand or close enough that you two would be able to talk without raising your voices
This man loves back hugs
YEOSANG
The best at good morning and goodnight texts. They somehow always make you feel loved and special
Super supportive? The type of bf to set reminders in his phone so he can wish you good luck on whatever upcoming project you’re working on. Even if it’s like the smallest thing ever, he’d be so proud of you for working toward it and even more proud when you achieve it
Really deep and interesting conversations
I think it would be so easy to be with Yeosang - like the both of you wake up together, get hungry at the same time, get sleepy at the same time, etc
It’s not that he’s not into PDA, he just forgets about it like of course he loves holding your hand, but he got distracted thinking about what he wanted to get for lunch
Laying his head on your lap is his preferred way to fall asleep
SAN
Loooooooves physical affection. Cannot get enough of it. I think his ideal would be being able to glue himself to you so two could just walk around permanently attached to each other. also I feel like San runs really fricken hot - like a cute lil heater
The ultimate hype man. It could be a pre-workout selfie, a just finished taking a shower selfie, an all dressed up selfie, a sleepytime selfie, a i just woke up selfie, IT DONT MATTER!! San is going to hype you up every single time. Which obviously does wonders for your confidence (which was his plan all along ;) )
Loves to stay in and just watch movies. Mostly so he can spend as much time as he can cuddling with you. Matter of fact, most of the dates he plans are just excuses to spend more time with you - physically and emotionally
Speaking of, San would be such a good listener! Like I feel he’d understand where you’re coming from emotionally and provide support in a positive and affirming way and never ever make you feel like your emotions are wrong or you were wrong, for that matter truly wants the best for you
And bc he loves you so much, I feel like he would also respect you a whole heck of a lot which means the first time you guys wanna do anything sexual, it takes him a loooong time to be okay with it. Like i think you would have to initiate
That said, he would absolutely blow your back out every chance he got once he got comfortable
MINGI
Loyal af. Once he makes a decision on who he likes, it’s that person FOR EVA so get used to the idea of having song mingi in your life
The wildest communicator - like, y’all abandoned texting very early on in the relationship and now exclusively communicate via selfies/photos, voice memos & memes. His voice memos are hilarious and sometimes incredibly lewd. Like will sing you an entire song that he just made up. In voice memos. Then follow it up with what he wants to do to you in excruciatingly graphic details.
While he won’t do completely matching outfits, he is super down to coordinate outfits - wear the same colors, or complementary silhouettes, something that lets ppl know you two are an ~item~
And though I think he likes being Princess Mingi, i think he would go to great lengths to make sure you’re taken care of - whatever you need, he’d get it for you.. Or get someone else to get it for you lolol
Will always pull you into his lap. He likes how easy/fun it is to manhandle you.
Loves PDA. I’m talkin full on make-out sessions, ass grabbing, hand holding, and everything in-between. good luck getting him off you!
WOOYOUNG
Likes biting. A lot. Especially the marks it leaves
Super generous. Like, the most giving man you have ever met. Will give you the shirt off his back even if you don’t ask for it. This also extends to anyone you know, especially! family. He likes knowing he’s the one taking care of you && yours
This man is crazy into fashion and i think his style would end up affecting your style, not bc he wants to but bc he just looks so cool all the time, you’d wanna match him, if you know what i mean. Definitely gives me gomez & morticia addams vibes.
Learns your favorite dishes and cooks them for you.
I think Wooyo’d be the type of bf to be a little controlling or ride the line of being a little mean just so he can rile you up. It turns him on when you get angry. But would also definitely cut it out if he saw you weren’t having it.. He wants to fuck you, not make you mad!
Can and will makeout with you for hours
JONGHO
Would have such a hard time telling you how he feels, but has no problem showing you how he feels - whether it’s buying you a little trinket, or making sure you ate, or even just listening to you, i think you would always feel loved when you’re with Jongho
Is actually really funny? Or maybe he’s just good at learning what makes you laugh and then gets good at telling you jokes that align more with your humor
Your family would absolutely adore Jongho
Wants to experience new things with you so all of your dates are either trying out a new restaurant, or visiting a new pop-up event, or going to a new city for the weekend, anything that helps creates memories with you
Hella anti-PDA. Will actively avoid holding your hand in public. But as soon as you are behind closed doors, will be the sweetest and most loving bf - being silly/cute, soft sweet kisses, plenty of hugs (which he’s surprisingly really good at), and sooo many massages
Jongho would give the best aftercare
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finelinevogue · 1 year
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birthday boy
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summary - harry’s birthday party ends up with cake frosting in his hair and your eyes
warnings: twinge of sadness but like it’s barely even there tbh, swearing, kissing, lots n lots of frosting
word count: +2.3k
pairing: fiancé!harry x reader
“Anyone need a top up?”
You were laughing with Glenne as she finished telling a funny story about her new intern. You couldn’t really hear what the story had been about, due to the obscene amount of noise in the room, but you laughed anyway.
“Yes please!” Glenne slurred, drunk on her birthday alcohol.
You were just as drunk, not because it was your birthday but because it was your fiancé’s birthday.
“Me too, please!” You held out your glass flute as the kind server poured more champagne into it, after topping up Glenne’s first.
“Me too, please!” You held out your glass flute as the kind server poured more champagne into it, after topping up Glenne’s first.
After you’d both thanked the server politely, you both returned to your conversations with each other. You’d both just needed a moment away from crowds to catch up on the evening gossip so far, so you’d come to sit on the velvet sofas in the corner of the room.
“Y/N, I have to say, you did a fabulous job on decorations this year.” Glenne cheered.
“I did?”
You looked around the room and evaluated what you had achieved. The mirrorball in the middle of the room shone a thousand diamonds down onto the dance floor, which was a black and white chessboard set up. There were fairy lights hung up around the walls. A balloon arch was in another corner of the room, where there was a rose wall behind it, for photo opportunities.
“Yeah! I love it!” Glenne looked around the room too, taking in all your hard work. “Jeff could never pull off something like this.”
It had taken you a couple of hours to set up the decorations and Harry had been all pouty that you had to leave him for so long on his birthday, but when you’d showed him what you’d been up to he fell in love with you a little bit more.
“I would’ve said neither could Harry, but something tells me he actually could.” You laughed, Glenne laughing along with you.
“Speaking of Harry… Have you two decided on a date yet?” Glenne nudged your leg with her heeled foot.
“Maybe May? I… We don’t know yet.” You sighed, shoulders slumping thinking about how you and Harry couldn’t agree on the perfect date for your wedding. “I mean, my dad can’t make any time in April, but Harry’s dad can’t make any time in June and we definitely want to be married before July, but…”
“Babe, woah, slow down. Y/N, this wedding, no matter how much you don’t want to upset anyone, is about you and Harry. It’s the one day in your life, apart from your birthday, where you get to be selfish. Take it as an opportunity to build a wedding day that you want, not anyone else.”
“Yeah you’re right.” You said so quietly not even Glenne heard.
“H’s version of a perfect wedding will be a day where you’re nothing short of perfectly happy.” Glenne shot back the rest of her champagne and placed it on the table in front of you two. “So, really, plan whatever you want.”
“Yeah” You nodded and placed your half full glass on the table too. “Alright, excuse me, I’m just going to go to the bathroom.”
“Sure.” She nodded and stood up herself, pulling down her short skirt and tottling off to find Jeff.
You walked past flurries of people, waving hello to people across the room who caught your eye. A lot of people you didn’t know, but Jeff had told you to send invites to because Harry and Glenne would know them. They were mainly Hollywood people that worked in the music industry, but there were a couple of faces you did know.
Gemma Chan was there and you made sure she knew you’d come and steal her away later for a catch up. Asif Ali was also there and you would have to go see him too, in order to bring some more smiles to your face.
After you’d finished in the toilets you walked back into the room to see a congregation in the middle of the room. Since you had organised the event and had no additional entertainment booked other than the live band, you were curious to see what was going on.
When you got to the back of the circle, trying to peer over the tall people at the back, you noticed Glenne sat on a chair with her back to Harry who was sat on another chair.
You could tell by the look in your fiancés eyes that he was very tipsy. His hair was messy on the top of his head from all the dancing around he had been doing this evening. He still hadn’t pulled you for a dance yet, but you two had been separated ever since you’d walked inside the venue. Harry was whisked away by Jeff to meet people, having a drink each time he came across someone new, and before you knew it he was dancing to Gloria Gaynor with the chief executive of Columbia.
You missed him.
When it came to events like these, even though it was actually his birthday, he was always so whisked up in the business side of it that you had to entertain yourself. It was never that Harry abandoned you, but you would rather not have to over-socialise. You put it down to your social anxiety and fear of social burnout.
“Now, a little surprise for my two best friends.” Jeff spoke into a microphone so he could be heard by everyone.
Some sensual music started playing and you automatically assumed that it was strippers. Your heart sunk at the thought of Harry having a gorgeous girl straddle him and perform intimate positions with him. It would be unkind of Jeff if he had planned something like that. Your heart lightened when you saw Jeff stand in front of Glenne and start pulling off his jacket sexily, before rounding to Harry’s side and wiggling his bum in Harry’s face. Harry’s drunk self slapped Jeff’s bum and everyone laughed. Even you.
Harry looked around the crowd, his eyes not pausing their movement until they met yours. The mischievous glint in his eyes made you wonder what he was thinking. No doubt it was something to do with wanting you as his lap dance, rather than Jeff. Jeff was doing a good job though, making everyone laugh and making his wife embarrassed that she ever married him. Luckily everyone was too drunk to care.
After Jeff buttoned his shirt back up and put his jacket on, he was handed back the microphone, nodded at you and you knew that was your queue to go and get the cake. They were sharing a cake, as they often did, so you picked it up from the kitchen with its candles and sparklers in before carrying it back carefully.
When you returned to the room, the lights went dim and the birthday tune started to play. People made way for you to squeeze through the crowd as you walked towards the birthday kids.
You smiled when Harry’s gaze caught yours. He mouthed ‘wow’ at you, but you knew he wasn’t saying it about the cake. As you stopped short in front of both Glenne and Harry, they stood together whilst people finished the song. You sang out too, looking at Harry the entire time and watched his smile remain constant as he watched you sing out.
The cake was heavy and Harry must have noticed because he picked up the side closest to him and took the weight off you slightly. As the song finished Harry and Glenne both shared the job of blowing out the candles.
Jeff helped take off the candles and sparkler to clear the cake so it was just a plain cake remaining. Harry took the opportunity to try and smash Glenne’s face into the cake, but she restrained enough to resist the force of his hand. Harry wasn’t paying attention to Jeff though and missed him coming behind him and pushed his head down into the cake, until it was too late. The side of his face and a loose curl of hair got caught up in the frosting and people cheered as he made a mess of his face.
You laughed as he stood back up and licked the frosting from the corner of his mouth, as if that was all there was to clean up. You stood still holding the cake and looking at Harry with endearment. He looked so soft and cuddly, and maybe a little delicious too.
“What are you laughing at?” Harry asked, as he lifted the strand of hair back onto his head even when it was still full of vanilla frosting.
You shook your head and laughed at him, knowing he would be a mess to clean up later. It wasn’t a second later after that thought that Harry used his own hand to push your face into the cake this time. He also pulled your head back, using your hair, so you didn’t suffocate inside the sponge. You managed to get more on your face, looking like you were wearing a face mask. So much so you couldn’t open your eyes.
“Fucking dickhead.” You muttered, but it turned into a chuckle because you were drunk and didn’t care.
Harry must have asked someone else to get a hand on the cake so it wasn’t your responsibility anymore. It wasn’t like it was very edible to anyone, considering it now had to face impressions in it.
You felt Harry take your hands, your eyes still closed from the frosting, and you could feel him guiding you through the crowds of people. His hands were warm and even though you couldn’t see whether it was him that was leading you off, you could feel it in your hands that it was Harry.
No one else's hands felt like home other than his.
His hands cupped perfectly in yours and you tailed him like a bind and lovesick puppy. His polite excuses to get through the crowd made him feel closer to you also, his voice so comforting.
When the crowd noise disappeared you assumed you must have been in a quieter room now.
“Harry where are…”
You couldn’t ask him more than that because his lips were on yours. And they were his because no one else's lips felt like home other than his. They were perfect against yours, moving over yours with such delicate precision that only came with knowing how best to kiss you. Harry knew exactly how you liked to be kissed and he was doing everything you wanted. His hands were even cupped in the right places under your jaw.
“You taste like frosting.” He chuckled.
You laughed with him, probably looking silly with frosting in your eyes. Harry had frosting in his hair though and there was no one that you’d rather be in this situation in rather than him.
“Happy birthday, H.”
“Thank you.” He said softly.
You felt Harry’s fingers wipe carefully over your eyes and relieve them of frosting. You opened your eyes carefully to watch Harry lick the frosting off his fingers with his tongue. He then brought his other finger to your lips to allow you to lick it clean, which he watched with beady eyes as you did.
“Good frosting.” You hummed in delight, knowing you had made the right call with the vanilla, not strawberry, frosting.
“Mm. Tasted better off your face.”
You laughed, hitting him softly over his ribs, “Oh, stop it you.”
“Never.” He shook his head and smiled at how he managed to make you laugh.
“I hope you had a good night tonight.”
Harry had looked like he had had a good night, but you could never be too sure until you asked him. He was very good at putting on a front, especially in show business , but with you he was nothing but honest.
“I loved it, baby, I really did. Just wish I got to spend more time with you. I mean, I love my friends and, y’know, all of them other people… but they’re not you.”
You pouted, somehow wishing you could’ve spent more time with him. You tried your hardest to finish all the decorations as quickly as possible, but you were a perfectionist so it did take longer than originally planned. As for the party itself, you couldn’t stop him from talking to people, no matter how badly you did want him all to yourself.
“Sorry.”
“No, baby, there’s nothing you need to be sorry for. Just one of those things, where too many people want my attention and yet I only want yours.” He shrugged his shoulders and he made you smile.
“You always have my attention.” You promised him, cupping his cheek softly.
“And I’ll try to give you more of mine this year. In fact, come my next birthday you’ll be sick of me.” He chuckled and stepped closer to you, not liking the 10cm of space between you.
“Could never get sick of you, H. Never.”
“Feelings mutual, lovie.”
He leant down to kiss you again, kissing your bottom lip with his and sucking on it lightly. His lips grounded you and reminded you that he was right here and he was all yours. You kissed back with force, wanting to show how much you really did love him, pushing into his lips with your own.
A minute later and your lips both raw from such loving kissing, you gave each other one last peck.
“More of that later, baby. For now, let’s go the chippy? I’m fucking starving.” Harry whined.
“Alright, birthday boy, let’s go.” And the rest of the evening was filled with chips, gravy and lots and lots of love.
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losttinwritings · 3 months
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can i be yours?
[Hazel Callahan x Fem!Reader] [1083 words]
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SUMMARY: Who knew all it'd take was getting drunk for you to confess your feelings for her.
WARNINGS: idk, tbh? None?
A-N: I've had the sudden urge to write something for Hazel Callahan, and so here you go.
[masterlist]
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“Can I be yours?” You asked, words slurring as you slid onto the couch beside Hazel Callahan. You were too drunk off of the alcohol being served, that you weren’t fully processing anything you were saying right now. 
“I don’t know, but I think you’ve had too much to drink.” 
Hazel turned to you, and she could feel her heart beating quicker than usual because of the closeness between the two of you. 
Reaching over and grabbing the red solo cup from your hands. The liquid that was still in there, sloshing about, as she pulled it out of your reach
As much as she wanted those words you’d spoken before to be true, she knew that by morning, you’d be too hungover to even remember them. 
“Nuh, uh.” You shook your head, leaning forwards to grab at your unfinished drink now. Allowing Hazel to get a strong whiff of the perfume you wore. Fruity? Whatever it was, it was one of her favourite scents. “I’ve only had like…” 
Hazel pulled the cup further away from you as you tried to remember how much you’ve drunk.
She knew that if you drank anymore you’d be regretting it when you woke up tomorrow. So, she tried to soften the effects of tomorrow’s hangover by stopping you. 
You groaned and leaned back against the couch. Your eyes, drooping, closed the slightest bit as you fought the tiredness that was now taking over you. The same tiredness, which was coming as a result of all the alcohol you’d drank that night. 
You could feel an awkward silence overcoming you both for the next few moments. 
Although, it was over as soon as it had begun, when you finally spoke up again. The silence, that is. 
“You know, it’s funny how much I like you caring for me. Like, I love you, but I know you’d never see me as more than a friend.” 
Hazel froze. Her hand, which was holding the red cup, soon dropped it. Her mind is trying to wrap itself around the thought of you liking her. No, liking her back. Something she always thought could never be real. 
There’s no way. No way. This is a dream. She felt the bitter words, entering her thoughts now. Were you serious? Were you just saying this because you were drunk? She didn’t know, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to find out and risk it all being her imagining things. 
But then again, what was that saying again…? Something about drunken words being sober thoughts. Maybe you were being serious, and you really did mean all those words.
“I-I think, I should take you home…now.” She hesitated, after finding herself coming back to reality from her once-rapid-going thoughts. 
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Waking up, groaning, you felt your eyes adjusting to the lights above you. Your left hand reaches up to your forehead in an attempt to rub away at the pounding headache that wouldn’t stop. 
You groan some more and sit up against the decorative pillows that still adorn your bed. Feet kicking against the covers to remove them from your body. 
How much did you drink? You weren’t sure, but you could feel the regret seeping into your features at how like shit you felt right now. 
Unaware, to the door to your bedroom suddenly opening from the outside. And a figure stepped into the room, with a tray that held iced water, a small plate of fruit and a box of ibuprofen, atop it. “Are you okay? Sorry, stupid question, you look like shit.” 
You spun your gaze to face who had just spoken, and you felt the familiar butterflies erupt in your stomach as you recognised it to be Hazel. Hazel Callahan, your long-time crush, stood there.
“I feel like shit…did you bring me home?” You asked, squinting slightly as you watched her step closer to where you sat. 
Hazel nodded in response to your question and set down the tray upon your bed. As you shifted your weight, you didn’t knock it off accidentally. 
You could feel your stomach growl carefully, as you realised you hadn’t eaten since yesterday afternoon. Since before you left for that party, you’d both been invited too. 
Which now that you thought about it, you couldn’t really remember much about what happened there. Did you say anything stupid? Act stupid? Or did you…no you shook your head.
Deciding to voice the first question aloud to Hazel, you waited patiently for a response. Curiosity gnawed at you from the inside.  
Hazel, on the other hand, panicked. Shifting her weight, from foot to foot. Attempting to come up with something. She hoped that you didn’t sense her panic at all.
What should she say? Does she bring up how you practically confessed your feelings to her? And as she looked into your curious gaze, staring almost-eagerly back at her. She caved. 
Her words spilled from her lips as she recounted what you’d said to her. Then she watched.
She watched as you sat there, eyes widening at every little bit, and for a moment, she swore she saw a little bit of panic flicker in your features. 
“I know, you didn’t mean it. It’s okay. We can go back to being friends now, or at least try to.” She rambled, diverting her gaze from where you sat atop your covers. 
Her ears completely missed the call of her name, which exited from your lips.
“Can I be yours?” You tried, hoping she’d turn back to you.
Huh? She did, in fact, turn back to you, confused expression on her features. 
“What did you just say?” She asked slowly, in an attempt to see if she had heard right. Did she really hear that? Or was she just imagining things? 
“I said, can I be yours?” You tried once more. Silently praying, Hazel would figure out that you were, in fact, serious. That you were not joking, not even the slightest bit.
Hazel looked up, attempting to find anything in your features that signified that you were kidding. That you were not actually serious and that you were playing with her. But when she couldn’t find anything as such, she sighed in relief.
Her words exited from her lips after she hesitated for a moment. “Yes. Yes, you can be mine…If I can also be yours?”
And you nodded, smiles coming onto both of your faces. A wide smile, knowing that you both returned each other’s feelings. 
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carigm · 3 months
Text
MAJOR POTENTIAL SPOILERS/LEAKS REGARDING S5 (WARNING)
Last Spring/Summer, a semi popular fandom account on Twitter got sent some leaks about S5, focused on the first half of the season. At this time, many fandom accounts were receiving supposed leaks, so our attention was a bit scattered and we didn’t focus on any of them too much. A popular leak account on Twitter (unrelated to ST) also mentioned that they had gotten the first half of S5 leaked, and that this source is “never wrong”. Now, it is hard to tell if these leaks are the same as the ones that the specific fandom account I’m talking about received, but something to keep in mind. Her leaks were given to her by a person named James (which I assume is a fake name). These leaks were also posted on Reddit, last year, by her (the person in the fandom that got the leaks from James) but some major things were omitted in that post. I’m gonna leave a link here in case you guys want to read the discussion.
I’m sharing these leaks with you because some things from them are kinda lining up with what we’re seeing from S5 production. Keep in mind that these could be fake/wrong, and James himself said he didn’t have info on the last couple of scripts.
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According to James, Mike dies in Ep. 3. I’m adding more screenshots later for more context, but the gist of these leaks is that Mike bites it, mlvn never breakup nor do they get a resolution, and Byler is left up to interpretation but never really happens. (I don’t really need to get into how shitty this all is writing wise)
Let’s go over the things these leaks might have potentially gotten right, according to what we know so far.
1. James said that the time jump would occur in ep. 1, after an establishing scene where S4 left off. He said the time jump would place us in late 1987/early 1988. He also mentioned there would be a series of flashbacks showcasing stuff from before the time jump. The dates he gave do seem to be accurate, and David Harbour had a shaved head right before they went into filming, which could imply pre time jump scenes.
2. According to him, after Mike dies, they find a letter he had been writing. Some of us were theorizing Finn had a letter in his back pocket in those rooftop pics. Could’ve also been Finn’s script and he just stuck it there (who knows).
3. He said that Joyce gets badly injured in ep.3, and since there’s speculation Winona was seen filming at the hospital, some people think that means she was taken there because of her injury. It’s important to notice that Natalia, Cara, and Finn were also supposedly seen filming at the hospital, and that the production called for many extras for nurses and paramedics. So whatever they’re filming at the hospital, it might be bigger than Joyce getting injured in her leg. Let’s remember Max is at the hospital too. I’m not 100% sold on this part of the leaks.
4. Today it was revealed that they’re setting up to film at Stone Mountain. (This is where they filmed UD scenes for S4)
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Apparently production might have purple tentacles out already. (UD vines?)
Cara Buono mentioned, in that video shared by Ross Duffer, that she was filming stuff from Ep.2. This was around 2 days ago.
The people that know about the leaks think this is where Mike dies in ep. 3. Here’s some further context:
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Here’s some stuff he said about mlvn:
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Which is just….meh, because like I said, it doesn’t look like him and El ever breakup before his supposed death. Plus Byler never gets any resolution.
Now some things that might disprove the leaks (I’m trying to be impartial here)
1. These leaks mentioned Argyle a couple of times, saying he has a hero moment at some point. Eduardo made it sound like he’s not coming back to the show, but tbh he could just be lying. He’s listed for ep.2 on IMDb (and yes I know anyone with an account can edit that site)
2. These leaks say that Mike is very insufferable for the 3 episodes he’s alive, basically lashing out at everyone, specially El, and just overall behaving like an asshole. I really didn’t get that from the ElMike rooftop scene, in fact he seemed very gentle with her. People that know about these leaks think that the rooftop scene is Mike maybe apologizing to El and them having a heart to heart, right before he dies (no comment).
All in all, if Mike is dying this early, I’m sure we’ll know soon enough. The rest of the cast is gonna be filming for like a year, and Finn will be done in like two weeks 💀
I also hope there’s more leaks soon (on Reddit) so that we might compare them to these and see wtf is up.
I know someone is gonna inevitably ask why leaks would be out almost a whole year before they started filming when we usually get them during filming or post production, but I’ve been told these leaks happened around the time the writer’s strike began, which is when they were originally gonna start filming. I was also told other shows had issues with leaks around that same time.
I don’t want to get too much into the truly awful writing we’re facing if these are real but…First, I believe it’s a total disservice to Mike’s character. One of your mains since S1 and you don’t even offer him the option of dying towards the end of the season? Even fucking Eddie got that. Two, it seems like a very easy cop out for not having to make Byler canon. Let’s just have neither ship be endgame and that way we don’t get queerbaiting allegations. It also stands in a zone too close to torture porn for my liking, because sure let’s kill the character two of the most traumatized characters in the history of TV love most. And yes, it’s also a disservice to El and Will’s characters. And lastly, if that supposed letter vaguely alludes Mike having some sort of sexuality problems (we don’t know atp) it is pretty fucked up they just killed him off like that. Sure let’s not explore any of that, but give a half assed explanation via letter ex machina. This is looking like Supernatural finale levels of bad to me.
Another point, I distinctly remember the Duffers saying, after S4, that they could never kill off a character like Mike because it would be too painful, and that ST would cease to be ST and lose its identity. They didn’t want to be like GOT. I sincerely hope they actually meant this and were not trying to be cheeky or whatever the fuck.
It would be genuinely insane, and quite frankly, a highlight of their lack of writing abilities.
I hope the leaks are wrong, but I felt like it was necessary to warn everyone just in case. I know I’m not watching something this awful.
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tatumtater · 4 months
Text
No one else
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pairing; joel miller x reader rating; 18+ warnings; the tiniest bit of descriptive smut, kinda angst, basically fluff divider; cafekitsune summary; it was never meant to be complicated, no more than hooking up. word count; 990 note; I suck at proof reading and editing just in general, this was just a little short drabble, something to attempt to get the creative flow going. this had better potential tbh.
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Joel is in pure bliss. Love. In love. He was never the man for domestication and settling down. It has always just been him and Sarah, never needing anything more. Until you showed up. Wrapped under his younger brother’s arm being dragged to him. Shades of pink flushed your cheeks as you two were introduced. That night you two hit it off good. So good you went home with him. 
That night turned into a bunch of nights spent together, but only nights. You two only confined in each other between his sheets and calloused fingers.The space between you two is only filled with the sounds of pleasure and begs. Please Joel. More. Please. Please. Please. That solitude only lasted 7 months. 
His breath was rugged, staggering into your ear. A soft moan escaped your lips as you dug your nails into his back, anything to pull him closer. Euphoria ripped through chest, his pace not slowing down. His fingertips danced your back and his lips kissed your jaw, “ you could be my entire world, “ he whispered into your ear before moving down to your collarbone and placing a kiss. You didn’t say anything. You couldn’t say anything. Your eyes squeezed shut and hissed in a breath. It was never supposed to be like this. It was never meant to get complicated, it was never meant to turn into anything. 
Joel’s pace became relenting, his hips snapped into yours, balls smacking against your ass. He became louder, his moans more erratic. His hand rode up the side of your rib to the swell over your breast. Taking your hard pebble between his lips, his thrusts became sloppy. “ Tell me. Tell me you’ll let me have you. “ 
You choked back tears. This couldn’t happen. This can’t happen. Not with Joel. This can’t get messy. “ J- Joel. “ You hand trailed up his back and onto the base of his neck. Anything to distract him Anything to make this encounter quicker so you can make your dash for the door and return his messages, leaving him to wonder where it went wrong. He must’ve taken his name call for more, bringing his lips back up to clash with yours. All teeth, spit mixed into each other's mouths. Joel was always your favorite taste at the end of the day. Always tasted like whiskey, but never overbearing. Maybe just a quick glass before you two get tangled between the sheets. 
He was close, pushing himself over the edge. Whatever he felt in this moment absolutely wrecked him, sent him to another planet. He groaned as he tensed up, painting your walls white with his spent. He placed a softer kiss against your lips as he tried to catch his breath, pushing sweat soaked hair out of your eyes. You met his gaze and the reality set in, you have to end this. You have to break his heart to protect your own. 
“ Joel. We can’t. “ 
His brows furrowed in confusion, “ can’t what. “ 
You pushed his shoulders slightly, pushing him off of you. Bringing the sheet up to your chest and sitting up, turning your head to look at him. “ This. We can’t do this anymore. We can’t do anything. You don’t want me. I’m no good. Used damage. “ Pushing the sheet over, you slid off the best, grabbing your old t-shirt off the floor before slipping it on. 
“ Now hold on a damn minute. Baby - “ 
“ Joel, please. Please don’t make this complicated. “ 
“ Have you ever thought about what I wanted? What I wanted in this? I want you, baby. All the time. All. The. Fucking. Time. I’m distracted. Always distracted. I’m shit at work. I fuck things up now and Tommy has to fix it. When I first met you, the very first time I saw you, saw you under Tommy’s arm. Well, well baby I wanted to run away. We clicked, something that night just did it for me. I wanted to run away because I knew if we started doing this, we would never stop. I’d never want to stop.That’s exactly how this is, that’s exactly how it has been. In no universe would I want to let you go, would I ever let you go without fighting for you. “ 
Your eyes started to become glossy, shaking your head, you hissed in a trembling breath. You were about to crack. About to become a sobbing mess if he didn’t knock this shit off. 
“ J-Joel. Please. I’m begging- don’t. “  
“ I want you. I want to be with you, on you, in you every second of the day. I dream of a life with you. A life that could happen. I could make it happen. I could make you happy. We could make each other happy. I want to marry you. I’d marry you tomorrow if it would seal the deal you were never leaving. I want to add you to my health insurance. I want to buy groceries on things you like. I want to have your trinkets littered around the house. I want the closest stuffed full of your clothes. You have nestled deep into my heart. I need you. I want to play it cool, tell you i’m not obsessed but I’m head over heels for you darlin’. “ 
You will never witness a love like this. Never again and never from a  man like Joel. Your heart swelled, you needed him, even if you left and never spoke to him. You’d mourn what was there, what could have been. He didn’t think of you as baggage, as used up damages. He thought of you as a flower, delicate and full of life. Filled with different emotions you tackled him, arms wrapped tightly around his neck, you let out a breathy laugh that was filled with tears. 
“ You, Joel Miller, are the most magnificent thing that has ever happened to me. Be gentle with me, Joel, that’s all I ask. “
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svnny-days · 2 months
Text
The First Snow
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pairing: luke castellan x gn!reader
w.c: 1k (got a tad carried away, oh well)
content: fluff?, gn!reader, reader is a little… dumb(?), not in camp... or canon tbh, it snowed !, established relationship, there's like... two swear words, readers favorite color is green because that's my favorite color (duh)
warning: not edited, i was writing it literally right before i went to bed so if something doesn't make sense... ignore it <3 I also got the idea for this from a prompt generator, so 🤷🏻‍♀️
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For the past couple of days you have been wanting to go to your boyfriend’s home, but it’s been snowing. And it’s been a little while since the two of you had last seen each other, since you’re too busy with school work and your jobs. So, when you finally got a proper day off, you jumped at the opportunity to visit and relax with your lover.
Now, instead of walking to the front door and being a normal person, you decided to have a little fun with all the good packing snow around you. You had made a small snowball and thought it’d be a good way to get your boyfriend’s attention if you threw it at his bedroom window. You giggle to yourself at the thought of his confused face after you throw it and it makes a loud ‘thud!’ on the glass. You take a second to compose yourself before aiming and… there’s no thud. No indication of the snowball hitting anything for that matter. You look down at your hand and find it empty before turning back to look at the window where your snow-covered boyfriend, Luke, is now staring at you with a blank face, “What… Is wrong with you?” 
“Ah! Sorry, I didn’t think your window was open! It was supposed to be this cute thing, I was gonna throw the snowball at your window and supri-” You’re cut off by him laughing. He was laughing? Your brows furrow together as you move closer to the window, to him, and notice the lack of screen. Then you notice the rest of his room, it’s cozy looking with all the decor and dark, navy blue sheets and blankets on his bed. “You… You’re not mad, right?”
“No sweetheart, I’m not mad,” He shakes his head and helps you in through the window before closing it for good. His curly, brunette hair sags and drips a bit from the now melted snow, “I just can’t believe you thought it’d be a good idea to throw that instead of tapping on the window or knocking on the front door,” there’s a hint of amusement in his voice as he takes a seat back on his bed, binders and books sprawled on the blue sheets, some wet from the snow and others untouched completely.
“HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW YOU HAD IT OPEN WITH NO SCREEN?” 
“You could’ve actually looked?” He responds with a cheeky grin gracing his features. 
“Oh whatever, Castellan,” You roll your eyes and plop down on his bed beside him. Your eyes scan his room, taking in your surroundings. As you look around you notice a familiar bracelet sitting on his semi-cluttered desk, “Is that the friendship bracelet I made you… when was that? 3 years ago?” You take notice of the way his cheeks flush and he hesitates to answer your question. You shake your head in response as you work to move his books and papers off his bed, “Look, I don’t care that you kept it, but gods it hurts my eyes to look at.”
“Are you calling your own handiwork an eyesore?”
“Yes! Because it is!”
“Nuh uh.”
“Did you just say nuh uh?” You shake your head at him as you set his stuff down on his desk, swiping the bracelet in the process. You move back over to his bed and reach for his hand, gently sliding the piece of crappy handmade jewelry onto his wrist, “If I wear mine 24/7, you have to wear yours all the time too.” 
His face contorts to a look of confusion as his eyes move from your face to your wrist where he sees the matching bracelet to the one you placed on him, “You… You actually wear yours?”
“Well yeah! Why wouldn’t I?” You tilt your head in confusion.
“Well I just thought that…” His voice trails off as he fails to find the right words. You look at him expectantly as your hands motion for him to ‘spit it out.’ Luke lets out a soft sigh before shaking his head, his brown curls bouncing with the motion, “I don’t know. I didn’t think you’d keep it.”
“Luke, honey, we’ve been dating for what… a year now? Do you seriously not know me that well? What’s my favorite color?”
“Isn’t it forest green?”
You smile at him and press a soft, chaste kiss to his cheek, “Okay, I guess you can have a pass this time.”
“Oh yay. How lucky of me! I looooove freebies,” Luke rolls his eyes, the sassy man apocalypse got this one too… You shake your head at him and sigh while ruffling his hair with a smile. And that’s how the two of you decide to spend the rest of the day. Bickering, throwing sass, and making the smallest things out to be bigger than they are because that’s just how you two are.
Hours later, the sun was starting to set, making the sky explode in beautiful shades of pinks and oranges. “You still never explained why your window doesn’t have a screen in it, or why it was open. I mean do you seriously need your window open when it’s 5 degrees outside?” You ask as you look up at him from your spot in his arms. The warmth of the blankets and his body wrapped around yours are enough to lull you to sleep but you fight it back, forcing your eyes open. Luke’s chest rumbles as he laughs softly in response to your question. “Let’s just say a little birdy told me you’d try to come over today,” 
“So you’re telling me you took the screen out of your window and left it open for gods know how long because a quote unquote little birdy told you I was coming?” 
“That’s what I said, yeah.”
“Sometimes I wish you could just tell me the truth!”
“I AM telling the truth,” Luke huffs and sits up, the blankets around you moving with him as he disentangles from you. You sit up too, following the warmth of his body in a desperate need for it to be wrapped around you once again. “You just don’t want to listen to me because I sassed you one too many times.” 
“You wish!”
“Oh so now you want a sass off, is that it?”
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smashtbh · 2 years
Note
okay so i have such a bad thing for dickheads / making dickheads break so can you do jason x dom top reader smut. plot doesn't really matter but if you could add a mirror and degradation to the smut part that would be preferred 💀😍
p.s i liked basically all your fics before i realized they were all the same person-
Shut Him Up
Jason Carver x M!reader | fem aligned + minors dni!
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not my photos!
CW: swearing, jealous jason, jason being a dickhead, smut, reader has a dick, degradation, bathroom sex.
he/him pronouns are used to refer to the reader.
a/n: call him a lazy boy the way he recline on this dick also i havent proof read this so lmk if there are mistakes lolol
tbh i didnt know where to go w this so this might be booty
“Jason, baby,” Y/N tries to reason, but Jason cuts him off.
“Admit it, you were looking them up and down.”
Y/N face palms, keeping one of his hands on the steering wheel. “I was looking at their shoes.” He says anyway, “Then I looked back up to tell them that I thought they were nice.”
Jason lets out a dramatic sigh. “Thank you for reminding me!” He heaves a dry laugh, “You had the audacity to compliment their shoes.”
“Why would I look at anyone else when I have you, Jason?”
Jason crosses his arms. “You tell me.”
Y/N wants to steer the car off the road and down a cliff. Instead, he calmly turns into a gas station parking lot. “Do you want anything?”
“I want you to admit that you were checking them out.”
“Why would I admit to something I didn’t do?” Y/N asks, opening his door and grabbing the keys. He closes the door and doesn’t look back.
He takes a couple steps before he hears the passenger door open and close.
When Y/N walks into the gas station, he makes a beeline to the drinks. He grabs a twelve pack and a big bottle of water. He’s turning to the snack section when Jason blocks him.
“Baby,”
“Don’t try to sweet talk me, L/N.”
Y/N scoffs. “Oh, so we’re using last names now?”
“Whatever.”
There’s a sigh coming from Y/N. He moves around Jason and goes to the chips. Browsing through them, he sees Jason following beside him in his peripheral vision.
“I don’t understand why you can’t just admit it.” Jason mutters and Y/N grips the items in his hand tighter.
“I thought you dropped this already.”
“Just fucking admit that you check out other people, my god.” Jason throws the bag of chips that he was looking at in the shelf, “Not that fucking hard.”
Y/N grabs Jason’s arm. “You are acting like a fucking child.”
Jason tries to pry himself out of Y/N’s hold, “Yeah, okay.” He raises his voice, “Because I’m a little fuckin’ baby that can’t help himself — “
Y/N slaps his hand over Jason’s mouth. “Shut. The fuck. Up.”
“Make me.” Is the mumble that Jason lets out.
Y/N pauses for a bit. He sets down the things he was holding carefully on the shelf as he loosens his grip on Jason. “Yeah?”
Jason doesn’t get to say anything because Y/N is dragging him out of the gas station by his collar.
“What — where are we — “ He thinks they’re going back to the car, but Y/N takes a turn towards the gas station’s bathroom.
Y/N pulls the door open, shoving Jason inside. He slams the door behind them. “You want me to make you shut up?”
“Who the fuck do you think — “
“Jason,” Y/N cages him against the sink, resting his hands on either side of it, “if you don’t shut the fuck up, I’m going to make you.”
Jason doesn’t falter as he leans against the sink. “I dare you.”
Y/N’s last bit of patience was stripped away at that moment. And so was his belt. “Pull your pants down.”
There’s a clink and Jason’s bare ass in within reach. “What makes you think this is going to shut me up — “
Y/N covers his mouth with his hand and slips two fingers onto his tongue, “Open up.”
Jason’s mouth pries wider, his saliva coating Y/N’s fingers. He pushes Jason against the sink, watching him in the mirror above it.
There’s a gargling noise and an occasional gag while he shoves his fingers in and out of Jason’s mouth. Once he’s decided there’s enough spit coating his hand, he brings it down and uses his other hand to palm at Jason’s ass.
“You’re just fuckin’ begging for it, aren’t you?” Y/N whispers in his ear, “You needed this so bad that you made a scene.”
“N-No.” Is the response he gets. “I don’t need you.”
Y/N laughs at that. “Oh really?” He thrusts his fingers to the knuckle, “You don’t need this?”
Jason moans, holding himself up on the stink. He’s twitching at the burn as Y/N pumps his fingers in and out. “Mmm — shit.”
“Tell me, baby.” Y/N licks the side of Jason’s neck, “Tell me how good it feels.”
They’re both breathing heavily, but Jason is heaving in air. He lifts his head up in hopes to get better oxygen flow and he meets his reflection in the mirror.
He doesn’t recognize who he’s looking at.
His hair is a mess, there’s a trail of spit spilling from his mouth, and his clothes are rumpled — sporting a bulge in the front of his pants.
“Oh fuck..” Jason mumbles. He’s done for.
Y/N breathes down his neck, “Aw, baby.” He holds his dick, coating it with the spit that was still on his hand. He slaps Jason’s ass with the tip. “You want this?”
Jason shakes his head and grips the sink. “I — “
Y/N grabs his chin and whispers in his ear. “Beg.”
There’s silence, only the sounds from outside are heard. So Y/N unzips the front of Jason’s pants, pulling his dick out.
“Please..”
Y/N grabs a handful of Jason’s ass, before ripping his hand back and slapping down. “What was that?”
“Mphh — please. Pleasepleaseplease..”
“That wasn’t so hard,” Y/N says rather calmly as he slowly pushes in. “Sometimes I wish you wouldn’t be so — ah, difficult.”
Jason whines. “I’m — ‘m not difficult.”
Y/N laughs, pushing in more as he leans down to whisper in Jason’s ear. “Oh, but you are.” He licks the shell of his ear, “My little slut.”
Jason clenches around him and Y/N thrusts into him, making Jason yell. “Ahh.. fuckfuck — “
Y/N continues to pound into him, the sink rattling with his efforts. Jason lets out little yelps whenever Y/N hits the spot in him that’s just right — but he doesn’t realize just how loud he’s being until there’s a bang on the door.
“Are you shitting in there?” The stranger on the other side calls out.
Y/N thrusts one more time causing Jason to moan — but he covers his mouth, muffling it. “Shhh..” He says to Jason’s reflection in the mirror.
The door knob begins to rattle and the voice starts to speak again, “Helloooo? Earth to bathroom hogger!”
Y/N reacts quickly, “Can a guy get some privacy around here?”
“L/N? Is that you?” Y/N realizes that it’s Dustin at the door.
Of all the goddamn people.
“Uh — yeah..” Y/N turns back to Jason, who’s mouth is open is disbelief.
“Open the fucking door, I gotta pee.” Dustin says as he begins to bang on the door again.
Y/N makes sure the door is locked before yelling out, “I’m shitting, Henderson. Find some other bathroom.”
Dustin groans, “I’m on a road trip with the guys, this is our only bathroom stop!”
“I don’t care.” Y/N yells back, turning his full attention back to Jason.
He waits a bit, hearing Dustin walk away, before surprising Jason with a hard thrust. “Oohh my god.”
“Hope you weren’t too bored.” Y/N laughs, combing a hand through Jason’s hair.
“Doing j-just fine.”
“If you can still talk I’m not doing this right.” Y/N says before using his hand in Jason’s hair to yank him up.
“Watch yourself, sweetie.” He mutters as he fucks into Jason. “Look at what a slut you are.”
Jason whimpers and tries to hold himself up with the sink, but soon he’s pulled back and his only support is Y/N as he watches himself get plowed in the mirror.
“Yeah, that’s it.” Y/N grunts. “Fuck, you take it so well.”
He only gets a whine in response. He uses his hand to carefully choke Jason, not applying too much pressure. “Good?”
There’s a choked sound, but when he looks in the mirror and watches Jason’s reflection, he gets the answer he needed.
Jason’s eyes are rolled back, his mouth hanging open with soft moans trickling out of it, and he’s crying as he blinks rapidly.
“I’m — coming..”
“So soon?” Y/N smacks Jason’s ass, “Is it because someone almost walked in on us?” He grips Jason’s throat tighter. “You like that, don’t you?”
With that, Jason comes. Hard.
He ends up coming all over the mirror. Y/N doesn’t have time to react when Jason clenches down around him and he follows suit.
“Holy shit.” Y/N pants, moving to grab a tissue to wipe his face. He grabs another and hands it to Jason.
They’re just breathing, Jason twitching occasionally at Y/N still being inside him.
“We should do this more often.” Jason mumbles.
Y/N grimaces at the mirror. “Hell no, this is gross.” He looks around them, “Did I really just fuck the shit outta you in the damn gas station bathroom?”
“Definitely.”
Y/N reaches his arms around Jason and starts to wash his hands. Jason’s hands soon join him.
They wash each other’s palms in calm silence, Jason leaning back into Y/N and cuddling his face into his neck.
It’s peaceful until gravely footsteps and another knock throws them off. “Y/N I swear to god I’m gonna piss myself out here!”
“Dustin, you have a penis, piss in a fuckin’ bush.”
“Damn right, Henderson — “ Y/N slams his hand over Jason’s mouth.
“Is someone else in there with you?!” Dustin screams, the banging at the door becoming louder.
“Jason, no.”
“Jason, yes.”
“JASON’S IN THERE?!”
likes, reblogs, & comments are appreciated!
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reverie-starlight · 1 year
Text
walk him like a dog
just some nearly 3am thoughts with me as I scroll through this tiktok trend by the same name
gn!reader, just fluff/humour and these boys being very in love with you, I really wasn't sure if I was gonna post it so if I delete it... whoops? <3
including characters from haikyuu, bnha, knb, jjk, obey me and blue lock (ooo what’s this? a new fandom has entered my writing realm??)
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whether you’re both in a group setting, or it’s just the two of you out together, the second you get up to get something/talk to someone he’s also up and trailing after you. follows you without a second thought if you don’t explicitly tell him he doesn’t have to go with you. he just wants to be with you, please let him, even if he doesn't exactly know where you're going!!
KAGAMI, mammon (...honestly he'd fit in most of these after a certain point in your relationship), SUNA, tsukishima, reo, BAKUGOU, BOKUTO, kunigami, kenma, AOMINE, belphie, MEGUMI, kaminari, TODOROKI (him extra bc you can argue with me on anyone else in this section but not him.)
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this man is wrapped around your finger, okay? he would do anything for you (even though you’d never ask him to do anything too extreme or purposefully push him too far). need water and don’t want to get up? he’s on it. forgot something in the car? “don’t worry baby, I’ve got it, just sit tight.”
mattsun, BEEL, akashi, SIMEON, osamu, KITA, isagi, bachira, ARAN, ITADORI, HAWKS, kirishima, midoriya, LEVIATHAN
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if you're going to class, he will 100% hold your things for you and walk with you to the room, even if it means he'll be late for whatever he has to do. similarly, in a grocery store, he will hold the basket or cart or anything you hand to him, no complaints. helpful boy <3
IWAIZUMI, kuroo, nagi, SAKUSA, kise, midorima, solomon, bakugou, mirio, itadori, akaashi, hinata
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this is similar to the last one but I think walking you to class or grocery shopping is different than a longer shopping trip. more patience is involved with this- you're at a mall?? he's holding all of your bags with a smile on his face and possibly paying for lunch.
iwaizumi, ATSUMU, bokuto, KAGEYAMA, USHIJIMA, barou, kagami, murasakibara, MEGUMI, aomine (maybe not with a SMILE but he'd definitely secretly not mind one bit), ISAGI
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you're getting the royal treatment all the time with him. do I even need to explain this one? this one works for either the stoic or the "high and mighty" types OR the complete simps <3
oikawa, chigiri, lucifer, DIAVOLO (he's the next king of hell, enough said), RIN, satan, barbatos, kaiser, SEMI (eita), todoroki, HAWKS, kirishima, AKASHI, REO, kunigami, tbh any of your favs would give you the royalty treatment that you deserve.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
hope you all enjoyed!! idk how i feel abt this one but we'll see how it does ig :)
reblogs appreciated!!
tagging bc you showed interest: @my-lovver @emmyrosee <33
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kadextra · 6 months
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I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about current lore, so it’s time to ramble my thoughts/theories/analysis whatever you wanna call it >:D
(long post get ready)
Alright, let’s talk about q!Cellbit… there is a lot happening with him rn. It’s been so crazy keeping up with all the enigmas lately
(these next thoughts about the character will all be centered on the idea that this is indeed him doing the worker murders, and he’s not being framed.)
His emotional state is unrestrained, and returning to past ways of violent behavior from the days of war and prison. he’s not repressing his feelings anymore, no more holding back. I could go on about these emotions and what they mean for him, but instead I’m gonna talk about the strategic reason I think q!Cellbit would want to kill the workers to begin with. I strongly believe that even if he’s in madness, no way is he mindless. his intelligence is sharp like the point of a dagger, and aimed straight at the federation. this is a plot of revenge on the “little bear” after all. “his toys will keep falling until he pays for everything.”
This is a guy that’s always careful about not leaving traces in all the investigative work he does, but here q!Cellbit is choosing to leave the bodies around the main spawn area where everyone can see, complete with encrypted messages next to them meant for Cucurucho to read (intercepted by q!Bagi) that so obviously leads right back to him. an intentional move, he stated in one of the messages that it’s a show and he wants people to watch- wants Cucurucho to watch, and hopes for the hunt to continue. though I think by being so obvious, he ultimately intends to get caught. ofc it’s not turning out the way he wants because q!Bagi is getting there first, but he is still set on a self-destructive path that I can only see ending up with him going down in a fight… but only after damaging the federation to a degree they can hopefully not recover from. which we know is his goal, he said as much in his last conversation with q!Bad.
Back then, q!Cellbit talked about how he realized that since q!Bad kidnapped Ron, it caused the federation to get into a lot of problems, he saw how going after the workers could cause some big damage. in the federation’s reports it’s shown how they had to put vital resources that would’ve gone to finding the eggs & pacifying the chaotic islanders into their own internal affairs, because all the workers were freaking out over the kidnapping. it was bad enough to make them need to hire psychological professionals to give therapy, send out people to search for Ron, and assign guards to the A-ranks so they could move safely around the island.
All the employees were already in constant fear over the past several weeks that they’d be the next one to disappear… and now here comes q!Cellbit turning the fears into a living nightmare.
Fast forward to today with workers being targeted left and right. as for why it’s only B-ranks? maybe because the A-ranks are too hard to catch alone right now (Bad also had trouble) but B’s are still a high level and can cause some major chaos as seen by Ron. and they just keep on dropping.
q!Cellbit’s building on this snowball of terror that q!Bad set off, all to crash into the federation and send it into even more disarray. it’s working. which gets even more chaotic when you factor in how he’s not even the only one doing something like this right now. q!Etoiles is unintentionally adding to it by breaking into federation facilities on behalf of the resistance and mercilessly taking out more workers. plus how the federation doesn’t even know q!Quackity has A-rank Fred locked in a jail. (or maybe the higher-ups know. tbh I still don’t know how qQ did this and still think the situation is sus. I have the theory that the federation let it happen as fred’s punishment for getting close to an islander)
Agent 18 told q!Foolish that all the employees are scared out of their minds right now with the danger of kidnapping + getting assassinated by the killer. they are staying shut inside the office cubicles and are too afraid to go outside alone. Agent 18 literally stepped out for 5 minutes, heard a small noise and it was enough to send them running back to hide
it’s clear that the federation workforce is now in shambles, and honestly I wonder how many might be getting disillusioned with the federation’s ability to protect them…. because yeah they are very weak right now. which is why I believe the federation has been introducing all this new tech to cut the losses: Minimes to give the workers an army as protection (failed because it was stolen by the islanders) and Cucuruchito placed at spawn, one of the main islander meeting points, and where it just so happens the worker murders are
Cucurchito is intended to passively gather intel for the federation, which I think they’re in dire need of because I am seriously doubting in the federation’s ability to know anything about what’s happening in these current events. they are in a rough state, just as confused as we are about where the eggs disappeared to, the islanders are all going crazy. they don’t know what the dark matter is and also somehow lost the president in the nether, there’s an obvious egg who’s supposed to be dead running around which they aren’t doing anything about. they got distracted from Ron’s case, don’t know Fred is missing, who the culprits behind both that and who is doing the worker murders are. employee morale is below negative.
but everything is a-okay because they have this little creature now!!! he’s the perfect solution :3
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okay that’s the end of my rambles :D
I love the lore and as always, hope for future events to be unexpected and surprise me!! it’s really nice to have theories confirmed, though I also enjoy getting proven wrong ^^ excited to see what happens next, it be chaos on these quesadilla island streets
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goosewriting · 3 months
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Warmth
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summary: now that reader got to look underneath the surface, they discover the not so pretty parts about being an inquisitor
relationship: inq!Cal Kestis x gn!reader
warnings: 18+, semi-graphic violence, mentions of blood, trauma, it gets pretty steamy, but still fade to black, implied sexual encounters, cal being emotionally constipated because what else is new, dom cal, soft cal, dirty talk? sorta?, talking about killing people, reader being a nerd, having a bath together, non-sexual nudity, reader gets choked, a lot is happening ok
word count: 12k … this one got away form me, i–
A/N: tbh when i started this i had no idea where i was going with it; this just took on a life of its own. i guess this one’s a little more grounded than the previous one, as reader and cal explore what it means to be an inquisitor. it’s a bit different to my usual stuff but i hope you like it nonetheless :’D
this can be read on its own, but it's technically a sequel to underneath!
(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)
— — —
It’s rather calm today, uneventful, as you sit at your office desk doing your work absent-mindedly.
You think back to your first night together with inquisitor Cal Kestis. It’s been some time since then, and you’re glad that there were more nights after that one.
Whatever is going on between you two, you try to be discreet about it. But it didn’t go unnoticed by others how Cal would approach you in the hallways to say hi or have a quick chat to check in on you. At first, you were nervous that it would affect your job in some way, negatively change your relationship with your boss and colleagues (not that you’re too close with them, but you still want to keep it professional and respectful with them). To your surprise though, the others seem to respect you more because of it. Apparently being able to hold your ground against an inquisitor isn't a small feat. ‘Hold your ground’... More like being wrapped around his finger. 
You smile to yourself as you think back to a couple of nights back. Your heart quickens and the tip of your ears burn as you remember the trails of kisses Cal left on your skin, setting your whole body on fire, accompanied by words of praise and adoration, words only for you to hear. 
Shaking your head to rid yourself of the slippery slope that is your current train of thought, you refocus on the screen in front of you and continue clacking away on the keyboard. You haven’t really defined or put a label on what you two have, but you know it’s special, and it is real. And you’re content with that for now. You like the current dynamic, where you have dinner together as often as your jobs will allow it, and you sleep over at his quarters every other day. 
However, lately there’s been a habit of Cal’s that worries you a bit. There’s been several instances now when you wake up in the middle of the night and your hand reaches out to find him, but his side of the bed is empty. Sometimes he’s not in the room at all. Other times you can see him standing at the window with his back towards you; his red hair seems to glow above his dark silhouette contrasting with the dim fiery glow coming from Mustafar, appearing from behind a veil of clouds. You know he knows you’re awake, but you stay still, pretending to be asleep. Whatever is weighing on his mind, whenever he feels ready, he’ll come to you. And you’d wait for as long as he needs.
Still, getting up so often at night starts to take a toll. You notice he’s more irritable, you see the dark bags under his eyes. But when you try to confront him about it, he dismisses it as unimportant, saying he’ll get better sleep that night. But it’s just the same thing over and over again.
One night after dinner, you’re both sitting on his couch, and you finally manage to pry out what has got him unable to sleep: nightmares. You don’t really understand what the problem is; everyone gets nightmares every once in a while. Even if he were to move around a lot, you’d try to calm him down and get him back to sleep.
“Do you know how inquisitors are made?” he asks seemingly out of nowhere while on the nightmare topic.
You take a moment to think about it, and realise that you do, in fact, not. So you shake your head.
“The Empire captures Jedis, to torture and remake them however they see fit”, he explains and stops from a moment to let it sink in.
“Part of them is lost forever,” he continues, his gaze moving to the side, looking at nothing in particular. “The other seems to be trapped, unable to move or escape. Jedis are trained to not give in to hate or anger. For inquisitors, those are the only things keeping them going. Ironically, feeling an enemy’s life force fade away… It makes you feel alive again.” He looks down at his hands. “It lets you feel something again at all: the rage, towards oneself and towards everyone who’s ever wronged you. It’s an addicting feeling, all-consuming. But much too short. So you seek it out again. And the Empire has plenty of enemies they need gone, so you comply.”
He pauses, allowing you to interject if it’s too much, but you remain silent, listening attentively. You’ve never heard this side of him, of how it felt being an inquisitor. 
“In those moments–” he goes on, clenching his hands into fists. “–feeding off of someone's desperation and pain that you can feel through the Force, it also opens a minimal gap for you to feel other things too. Things you thought you had forgotten or want to forget, like regret, fear and doubt. Or things you think you don’t deserve to feel anymore, like warmth. Happiness.” He pauses for a moment. “Love.”
You remain silent for a moment longer in case he wants to add anything else, but it doesn’t look like it. So you ask something instead. 
“And what do you remember in those moments?”
Cal closes his eyes and throws his head back slightly, taking a deep breath.
“The smell of the temple library on Coruscant,” he replies. “The rare sound of the clones laughing in the mess hall. How safe I felt with my master.”
You tilt your head with a slight grimace; it breaks your heart to hear he thinks he can’t have those things anymore because of what he is now. Or rather, what he was made.
“You still deserve all of that, the warmth and feelings of safety,” you say, and reach out to run your fingertips over his cheek, but he turns away.
“You don’t think I’m a monster? Like everyone else does?” he asks with a wry chuckle. “You know what I do. I don’t deserve any of it.”
Or you.
He doesn’t say the words aloud, but they hang heavy in the air between you two. 
“Okay, Kestis,” you say as you stand up, one hand stretched out towards him. “No moping, c’mon.”
He gives you a suspicious look, but accepts your hand nonetheless. You guide him to the washroom and run a bath for him, using one of your nicer bath bombs which you kept for special occasions. 
“Time for some pampering. You deserve it,” you enunciate that last part. “Clothes off.”
He narrows his eyes at you, unsure of what you’re scheming. You can’t help but laugh at the faint blush spreading on his freckled face as you start to strip yourself. 
“Now, don’t get any ideas. No funny business, I mean it. Just a bath,” you say, pointing a finger at him.
“Alright, alright,” he gives in with a low chuckle, and starts unbuttoning his shirt. 
Not long after, you’re both in the tub, with you sitting behind Cal, both enveloped by fragrant bubbles filling the warm water surface. You instruct him to lean back so you can wash his hair. Using your own shampoo instead of the boring, Empire-issue one, you lather up his hair, massaging his scalp, which earns you a grunt or two, and you can’t help a triumphant smile.
“Does it feel good?” you ask, and you get another grunt in response, so it must indeed feel good.
After you’re done with the hair, you tell him to turn around, and you squirt some soap onto a wash cloth. Starting at his neck, you scrub gently in circular motions, making your way down over his shoulder and his arms. Then you repeat the process on the other arm. As you lift it out from the thick layer of bubbles, you notice some reddening on his skin at his bicep. You take a closer look.
“Is that a new scar?” you ask.
“Yeah, don’t know where from though,” he says, and you get the impression that he does, but you don’t ask him about it. 
“Is that so,” you mumble, then lean in to place a soft kiss on it. “There, now it will heal faster.” 
Cal snorts and rolls his eyes, but his gaze remains soft.
“What, you don’t believe me?” you retort in mock offence. Then you start placing kisses on all his scars, the ones on his face, at his jaw and over his nose. The scars on his chest, his shoulders. You end by placing one last kiss on the tip of his nose, and grin up at him, but your face changes into worry when you see his expression. His brows are furrowed, as if in pain, his eyes shut tightly, his shoulders tense.
“Cal, are you okay?” you ask, and his hand comes out of the water to hold your face. You place your hand over his. He blinks a couple of times, and when he fully opens his eyes again, his features relax, and he smiles warmly. But what shocks you the most is that his eyes aren’t their usual yellow; they’re greenish blue. You open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. His gaze is not only a different colour, but also as vulnerable and tender as you’ve never seen before in him. 
“You’re too good to me,” he whispers, leaning in to place a single, lingering kiss on your cheek. 
Suddenly, his face contorts in pain again, this time more than before, and his hands shoot up to either side of his head, pressing onto his temples. When he opens his eyes again, they’re back to the yellow you know and love.
“My head is killing me suddenly,” he says through gritted teeth. “Can we wrap it up?” 
“Uh, of course, yeah,” you answer, making quick work of rinsing off both of you and getting some towels. 
Soon you’re both in bed, with your back against his chest, as he holds on to you like his life depends on it. Cal falls asleep first, but it’s rather restless. He keeps twitching and flinching, and with every sudden move, you’re dragged back out of your almost drifting to sleep. When he seems to finally have calmed down, you exhale deeply, eager to follow suit and drift into dreamland as well. Instead, Cal groans loudly, and you lean onto your side to look up over your shoulder. He looks distressed, a thin layer of sweat on his forehead.
“Cal, are you okay?” you ask, placing your hand on his shoulder to try and wake him, but you retrieve it quickly when his eyes shoot open, wild and angry and disoriented. 
“Prauf!” he screams, grabbing you harshly and rolling over so he’s straddling you, one of his hands fisting the sheets while the other goes to your throat, starting to choke you.
“C-Cal…!” you rasp out, holding onto his wrist to try and get him off of you. “You’re hurting me!”
He puts more weight into his hold, and you start seeing white dots sprinkled in your field of vision.
“It’s me, please,” you gasp, raising your hand to hold his cheek instead, and that seems to work. Slowly, his eyes seem to focus again, and his ragged breathing calms down slightly. When he finally sees you under him and understands what he is doing, he lets go and jumps off of you, off the bed, and slams his back against the opposite wall. You take a gulp of air, falling into a coughing fit. 
“Are you okay?” you croak when you can finally talk again, and you see him holding his head, trembling. 
“I- I’m sorry- This-” he starts, but can’t form a sentence. Taking a deep, shaky breath, he lets his hands fall back down to his sides. “I’m sleeping on the couch.” 
Cal leaves the room before you can protest, and the doors close behind him. Just like that you’re left alone, wondering what in the world just happened. Does it have something to do with his eyes earlier? And what, or who, is Prauf? 
— — —
The next morning, you’re awoken by the alarm clock on his night stand, and it takes you a couple of tries to turn it off. Sitting up on the bed with a yawn, you start remembering what happened the night before, and your hands comes up to your neck, where you can still feel some soreness from being choked like that.
You tiptoe out of the room, but just as you expected, Cal is gone. Taking a quick look at the clock, you yelp as you realise how late it is, and you hurry to the washroom to get ready. 
Once you’re ready to go, you take one last look at yourself in the mirror, and realise that your neck has visible marks, clearly in the shape of a hand. You grimace slightly, propping up the collar of your uniform as high up as it will go, and it covers up most of it. As long as you don’t look up or stretch your neck too much, you should be good. So you leave Cal’s quarters and head to your office. 
The whole day, you’re a bit distracted, hoping that Cal doesn’t feel too bad about what he did. You just want to help; sure, the nightmares are worse than you thought. But you’ll figure it out, together. 
You don’t get to see or hear from Cal the whole day though, or the next, or the one after that. For almost a week, he seems to be avoiding you completely. He doesn’t answer your holocalls or texts. You only catch the occasional glimpse of him leaving a room just when you’re entering. 
Tired of this game of cat and mouse, you decide to go find him. Instead, you end up cornered by the Ninth Sister. You’re slightly scared of her if you’re honest – no, scratch that. You are scared of her; she’s incredibly intimidating, not just by her sheer size and strength, but her presence in general. She always sounds mad, a deep frown etched into her face. So when she suddenly tells you to follow her, you don’t find it in you to refuse. To your surprise, she hunts down Cal as well, and brings you both to an empty hallway.
“Whatever is going on between you two: fix it!” she barks, then turns around with a scoff, muttering something about it being like scolding children. 
You look around, and there’s no one around, so you look up at Cal’s helmet visor, trying to find his eyes under it, but obviously only seeing your own reflection.
“Hey,” you greet him, giving him a smile to signal you’re not mad. “I missed you.”
His shoulders slump slightly, and he looks around as well. Instead of answering, he grabs you by your elbow and guides you some steps down the hallway to a maintenance shaft. He flicks his wrist, and the doors open, he shoves you both inside and closes the doors.
Only now does he take off his helmet, and you can’t suppress a gasp, horrified at the sight. His hair is sticking out everywhere, the bags under his eyes are the darkest you’ve ever seen, and he not only has new scratches on his face, he also a black eye that seems to be a couple of days old. 
“What happened to you?” you ask, and you’re aware that it’s not a great opener, but you’re genuinely worried. Your hands gingerly run over his face as you inspect the damage. Cal shrugs nonchalantly.
“I’ve been distracted lately and it affected my performance,” he says with a wry smile. “So they had to correct my bad behaviour.”
You take a moment to make sure you’re properly understanding what he’s implying. By the look in his eyes, kinda sad and a bit ashamed, it seems you are.
“Do you get corrected often?” you ask carefully.
“Sometimes. When I get greedy,” he answers. You think back to your conversation about being an inquisitor, and remember how he said that he only got a glimpse back into his own heart when he was out there, doing horrible things. Does that mean he was defying orders just to be able ‘to feel something at all’? 
“Do you usually get corrected… after being with me?” you ask this time, almost scared of the answer. 
“It’s not your fault,” he indirectly answers your question, taking your hands in his. “Being with you is just as addicting as being out there. I’m just… weak like that, I guess.”
“Oh, Cal,” you whisper, giving his hands a squeeze. “The warmth you yearn for and that you seek, it may make you feel vulnerable, and you think that makes you weak, but all it does is make you real. You’re real, Cal, and so am I. And I don’t want you to get hurt. You don’t need to be greedy; I’m here, I always will be. You deserve that warmth, and if you’ll have me, I’ll give you all of it.”
His brows rise slightly in surprise, and you realise you basically just professed your love for him. Heat erupts on your face and in your panic, you grab onto his collar and kiss him, hard at first, but then you’re both moving in unison with a rare softness you don’t always get to experience from him. 
Suddenly he pulls back with a pained grunt, and he slides down the wall until he’s sitting on the floor. 
“Cal, are you okay? What’s wrong?” You kneel down beside him, and you lift his face to look at him. Once again, you’re met with blue eyes, this time like an ocean about to erupt into stormy waves. He’s close to tears, and he looks so scared, so small, it breaks your heart. If only you knew how to mend the broken pieces of his soul, you’d kiss them all better if you could. 
“I’m sorry I stayed away so long,” he suddenly says, hugging you into his chest. “I just couldn’t bear the thought of hurting you again. What if I don’t snap back in time? What if I do something worse?”
You rack your brains for something reassuring to say, and finally land on something.
“You know, as a kid I used to have this recurring nightmare,” you start, hoping to not only get your point across better with your story, but also getting him out of the rabbit hole he was about to go down. “I kept dreaming that my parents abandoned me. We would all be together somewhere, and I looked away for a moment, but by the time I turned back around, they were gone. And I would feel so alone, and full of dread, I felt like I was going crazy. I’d often wake up screaming and crying.”
You take a moment to gauge his reaction; talking about your pasts has been kind of a taboo topic between you two. He openly said once that he doesn’t want to talk about his past, which you respect, but it also meant he never asked questions about yours. Maybe he’s scared to know more because it would reawaken memories of his own. Maybe he just doesn’t want to pry. Maybe he doesn’t care. Either way, you’re now crossing that invisible line and hope it won’t scare him away completely.
“No matter how much my parents reassured me that they wouldn’t abandon me, it always played out the same,” you continue your story. “One night, I was so scared of having the nightmare again, that I straight up refused to go to sleep. That’s when my mother told me this: sometimes, dreams are just your mind and soul processing something that actually happened. But other times, it’s the mind’s way of trying to find closure for something that hasn’t happened. So even if the dream isn’t nice, you have to wait until the end. Only then will your mind be able to tell you what it needs, even if it’s something you don’t want to hear.”
Wiping the silent tears off of Cal’s cheeks, you give him a comforting smile.
“And I know this doesn’t compare in any way to the nightmares you have,” you say. “But, maybe, you just need to let them play out. What if it’s your subconscious trying to tell you something and you cut it off before it has a chance to? What if… it’s the Force trying to tell you something important?”
This seems to click in some way with Cal, and he takes a moment to think over your words.
“Whatever happens, when you wake up you won’t be alone. I promise”, you assure him.
Cal is about to say something, when his eyes shut closed and he claims his head hurts again. He blinks a couple of times, holding his head, and his eyes switch between greenish blue and yellow. 
“Don’t block it out,” you encourage him, removing his hands from his temples and bringing them to your face instead. “I take back what I said earlier. You can be greedy, but not out there. Be greedy with me. Take everything you want, Cal. As much as you need. It’s all for you.”
He blinks one, two more times, his eyes fully reverted to their usual fiery yellow, and the fear from before is completely gone, now replaced with something sharp and dark.
“You don’t know what you’re asking,” he says through gritted teeth, his whole body trembling in anticipation or self-control, maybe both.
“But I do,” you reassure him, climbing over his legs so you’re sitting on his lap, and gently press your forehead against his. “That yearning is eating you up from the inside. You’re hurting. It doesn’t have to be like that.”
Cal’s hands wander from your cheeks over your shoulders, down your arms, until they rest on your waist. He looks up at you, still a little unsure, and you roll your hips against his to further encourage him and tell him it’s okay. You both can’t help the low moans that escape your lips.
“It’s okay, Cal,” you whisper, leaning in and stopping just above his lips, where you feel his shaky breath. “Consume me until there’s nothing left.”
That seems to snap him back to his usual, more dominant self that he is in intimate moments like this. Adjusting your position in his lap, he presses your body into his, kissing you passionately. It’s just as intense as your make-out sessions usually are, but there’s something else lingering as well. You can’t quite describe it, but it’s like there’s a newfound meaning behind his actions. As if he is trying to pour his whole being and soul into it in an attempt to reach you. And it does. In fact, he’s using all his senses, Force included, to breathe in all of you, and his presence envelops you like it never has before.
You start undoing both your uniforms, and you pull back for a moment to take a much needed breather. 
“You’re doing great,” you pant, not really thinking about what you’re saying as you try to undo the clasps and buttons as fast as your trembling hands will allow. “Such a good boy for me.”
To say that his whimper takes you by surprise, is an understatement. You stop your movements and pull back a little more to take in the image before you: Cal’s partially exposed chest is rising and sinking rapidly, a violent blush spreading from the tip of his ears all the way down to his sternum. His usual confidence and cockiness seem gone, and biting his bottom lip, hair completely dishevelled, he gives you a flustered look you’ve never seen on him.
“Don’t call me that,” he breathes, trying to pull you closer again so you can’t look at him.
“Call you what, a good boy?” you tease him, and his whole body tenses up under you as he takes a sharp breath. “I think you rather like it, no? Being such a good boy for me. C’mon, keep going.”
He relentlessly attacks your neck just the way he knows you like, biting and licking and nibbling along your pulse. 
“Ah, kriff, these uniforms, I swear–” you curse under your breath into Cal’s temple, trying to rid yourself of your jacket without losing contact with him. You only manage to push it down to your elbows. Cal’s hands slip under your shirt and start wandering up and up. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire, goosebumps erupting on your arms and back as you arch yourself into his hold. Another moan escapes your throat as he bites down hard, immediately licking the darkened spot. You finally manage to shake off your jacket and–
Your comlink beeps and you groan. Cal seems unbothered, as he’s still going, now moving back up to finding your lips, tongue darting out to meet yours. After blindly tapping around to find the device in a pocket of your discarded jacket, you take it out and look at the caller ID. Your blood freezes when you recognise it to be your boss. Right, you’re in a maintenance shaft half naked with the inquisitor when you should be at your office. 
Shoving Cal away begrudgingly, he growls in annoyance, about to flick the still beeping comlink out of your hand.
“Wait, wait, it could be important,” you say through heavy breaths, trying to calm yourself down enough to sound somewhat normal. Cal merely pushes his face into your chest with a defeated sigh. After clearing your throat, you take the call.
“Took you long enough, officer,” your boss says in a clearly annoyed tone that makes you cringe slightly.
“Sorry, Sir, I was, uh, occupied,” you stumble over your words and mentally slap yourself. Cal doesn’t even try to hide his snort at your response. You smack him lightly on the back of his head.
“Whatever you were doing, officer,” the man says in a way that he knows exactly what you were doing and with whom. “Prepare your things and get ready, you’re to leave for an off-planet mission by tonight.”
“Yes, Sir,” you reply, instinctively straightening your back.
“You’re to meet us at the hangar by 1900 hours. And officer,” he adds with a sigh, his voice adopting a strange tone of embarrassment, almost. “If inquisitor Kestis happens to be there, tell him to come as well.”
“Understood, Sir,” Cal replies with no qualms, and you’re petrified. 
After one more sigh and some unintelligible curses, your boss hangs up. 
You blink a couple of times, trying to recover from the shock. Great, now your boss knows for sure what you were up to. 
“We’re not done here,” Cal says, as he places one last kiss on the corner of your mouth and stands up, helping you get on your feet as well. “We’ll pick up where we left off later.”
“At a different location though, I would hope,” you chuckle as you two get ready to leave the little room.
After a quick detour to the nearest washroom, where you both fix your messy hair and uniforms (his smirk as you’re barely able to cover all the hickeys with your propped up collar will be the end of you), and one to your office for you to pick up some supplies, you make your way to the hangar. A group of people is already waiting for you two; two purge troopers, two stormtroopers of your own squad your boss stand next to Cal’s ship, a zeta-class shuttle: black, sleek and menacing. 
After the debrief, you review the data on your holopad. It’s a mission on another planet, and you’re always excited to get one of those, as you don’t get to go out “into the field” often. In this case there’s a possible rebel cell, but their transmissions are set up in a way that decoding them from the Fortress Inquisitorius would take a considerable amount of time, so it’s quicker to get close to the base and physically infiltrate their comms system to get the information you need. Additionally, there’s been a tip about a possible Jedi being hidden within the rebel group, that’s why they’re sending an inquisitor as well. You’re to stay on the ship working on the decryption while they do their thing.
The ship takes off, and once you’re far enough, you make the jump into hyperspace. During the trip, both the purge troopers and Cal sit unnervingly still, probably power napping and saving their energy for the possible fight ahead. Your two troopers are in the cockpit flying the ship and having a chat, so you have a lot of time for yourself. You mainly work on preparing your equipment, revising your software and getting all the tools you’d need ready. It doesn’t take long for you to have everything prepped; the moment you’d enter the planet’s atmosphere, your scans would tell you the rebel’s comm system location within seconds, and once you land, you can head right out to hook up your own tech. There’s still a good portion of waiting after you’re done though, and with the constant hyperspace humming, you find yourself dozing on and off, replaying the earlier conversation you had with Cal in your mind, wondering how to act and what to say once you get back to base. 
After what feels like an eternity, the piloting troopers finally announce you’re here. The drop out of hyperspace shakes you slightly, and as you look out the window, you see your goal: a small planet on the very edge of the Outer Rim; you’ve never been this far away from the Core Worlds, and as you see the vast expanse of pitch black void surrounding it, you notice the lack of starts in the distance, and you almost let yourself be swallowed by the dread that runs a cold shiver down your spine. Shaking your head, you rid yourself of any distracting thoughts and get to work. As expected, your holopad is already beeping, alerting you that it found your target location. You stand up from your seat and approach the cockpit, for which you have to walk past Cal. His helmet visor is aimed at the floor in front of his feet, and he doesn’t look up as you walk by. For all you know, his eyes could be trained on you though; there’s no way to know for sure. 
Standing between the pilot seats, you show one of the troopers the coordinates on your holopad, and he punches them into the console. Holding onto the back of the seat, you stand there as the ship approaches the area you marked, and the landing is swift and almost motionless. So this is what the good ships feel like, you think to yourself. And the troopers seem to be thinking the same, if the slow whistle coming from one of them is anything to go by.
You turn around to go inform the purge troopers you’re here, but Cal is already standing in front of you, blocking your exit from the cockpit. 
“My men and I will look for our target, you two stay here,” he says as he points at the two stormtroopers. Then he gestures towards you with his head. “The officer is in charge while I’m gone, and better be unharmed when I come back, understood?”
“Yes, Sir,” they respond in unison. 
Cal seems to linger on your form for a second longer, then turns on his heels. The cargo door opens and the smell of humid, tropical air reaches your nose. Cal and his troopers take off, and you nod to yourself with an ‘alright’, as you get to work. Connecting a couple of wires here and there, you call one of the troopers to you.
“We need to bring this–” you point at your contraption. “–to the base of this structure.” You show him the red dot on the holomap at the edge of a water body. “That seems to be the backbone of their communication system. There have to be wires that we can hook the machine into.”
“Understood.”
He picks up the machine and starts heading out. You gather a couple more tools, throw them into your bag and sling it over your shoulder. As you approach the cargo door, you turn to the other trooper one last time.
“You stay here and hold down the fort. Keep the usual channels open for us and for C- Inquisitor Kestis.”
“Yes, Sir!” 
And off you go.
After a while, you get to the point at the cliff as indicated by your holomap. Both you and the stormtrooper stand at the ledge, carefully looking down. At the base, a broad river runs along the cliffside. Scanning the rocky walls with your eyes, you find what you’re looking for.
“Jackpot,” you say, pointing at something, and the trooper follows your line of sight. “That’s our transmitter.”
It’s essentially a big metal box built into the side of the cliff, with an antenna on one side and a rather wonky satellite dish on the other, partially hidden under a rocky overhang. You’d have to climb down quite a bit to reach it.
“We didn’t bring any climbing equipment,” the trooper points out. 
“We improvise,” you retort with a shrug.
You take the rope out of your bag and tie one end to a nearby tree that looks sturdy enough, and the other around your legs and waist.
“I don’t think this is a good idea, Sir,” the stormtrooper starts. “If anything happens to you, Inquisitor Kestis will–” He’s stopped by the stern look you shoot him. 
“I know how to take care of myself, trooper,” You say firmly. “Now, help me get down there.” 
You plug in one of the thicker wires into your machine, holding the other end between your teeth. The trooper helps you climb down the cliffside step by step, slowly letting you down. Once you reach the desired point by the transmitter, you take the wire out of your mouth.
“Here’s good! Hold it there!” you call. A  grunt is all the response you get. 
You plug in the wire, and your holopad starts beeping, starting to intercept the messages. But they’re not written words, voices or even proper sounds, it just sounds and looks like static. 
“Guess I have to calibrate my receiver,” you think aloud. “Pull me up!”
Climbing back up the way you came, you untie the rope the moment you find your footing again, which left a slight stinging sensation at the back of your legs, and you absent-mindedly rub your bum to alleviate the sensation. You notice the trooper giving you a strange look, and heat spreads on your face.
“Well, don’t just stand there,” you say as you straighten up, looking for an order to give. “Go, uh, go collect the rope.”
“Yes, Sir…” he responds with a snicker.
You roll your eyes, but you’re not really mad at him. That must have just looked really funny. Either way, time to get to work: you kneel down next to your contraption, holding your holopad next to it, adjusting some levels here and pressing buttons there. But no matter how much you try to isolate the signal, it still doesn’t get cleaner or clearer.
The trooper places the neatly tied up rope next to your bag which you left on the ground, then holds up his blaster, undoing the safety. You look up at him in confusion.
“What’s wrong?” 
“I’m not sure…” he answers. “I have a bad feeling about this place. Let’s get what we came for and go back to the ship.”
“Okay…” you stretch out the word, unsure what put him on edge like that. Yes, there’s known aggressive fauna here, but all in all the planet is abandoned, there's no particular danger. Not documented, anyway. You keep looking at the static on your holopad, trying to make sense of it. But the more you see, the less random it seems. That’s when it dawns on you. 
Suddenly, you furiously type away on your pad, trying to translate the encoded message, but it’s just gibberish. You tilt your head in confusion, revising your translation; it should be right. But it isn’t. Why?...
“Oh!” You say after a few more seconds, getting up to your feet so quickly that it almost makes you dizzy. “Oh, this is actually quite brilliant. Ah, these rebels sure are getting crafty. Come here, you’re gonna love this.”
The stormtrooper shoots one last look over his shoulder into the vegetation, then turns to you, still holding tightly onto his blaster.
“You ever heard of Dadita?” you ask, not bothering to hide your excitement.
“No?”
“Of course you haven’t,” you say with a click of your tongue. “It’s an ancient Mandalorian code consisting of short and long bursts of static, where each combination stands for a letter. But these rebels combined it with Mon Calamari blink code, which is the same principles but with light sequences. They used Dadita static, but the sequences actually correspond to the blink code letters. No wonder back at HQ they thought we couldn’t intercept proper comms. It’s made to look like static.”
“Uh-huh,” is all you get out of the trooper, still nervously looking around.
“C’mon, this is cool,” you try, but to no avail. Sighing in defeat, you add, “You know what, nevermind. Let’s just go back.”
At least Cal will show interest in your find. Or so you hope. Speaking of, you wonder how he’s doing. You know you shouldn’t ping him as it could interfere with his mission, but you just hope they made it back safely to the ship by the time you’re there.
“Contact the ship, will you? And tell them we’re going back,” you instruct. The trooper presses some buttons on the console on his wrist.
“Ground team to ship, do you copy?”
The only answer is static.
You look in the direction of the ship as the trooper tries again, and you feel something cold on your nose, then on your cheek. You look up; it’s starting to rain. Great. Your machine shouldn’t have trouble with a little rain, but you still don’t feel great about it. You kinda made it up on the spot, so there are a couple of exposed wires. 
“We need to go get something to cover the receiver. Any answer yet?” you ask, and it’s really starting to come down now. You have to blink several times to get the water out of your eyes.
“No,” he responds, nervously looking around. “I told you, something is wrong.”
“Okay, no need to panic,” to try to calm him down; his demeanour is starting to make you nervous as well. “Let’s just quickly go back; I'm pretty sure I saw a piece of canvas that we can use to–” You sling your bag back onto your shoulders as you speak, but the inertia of the bag makes you lose your balance for a second, and with the ground now turning into mud, your boot loses its grip on the ground, making you slip and your knees give out under you. 
“Officer!” You hear the stormtrooper call as he stretches out his arm in a vain attempt to catch you, but you’re already falling backwards off the cliff. Seemingly in slow motion, the trooper and the treeline disappear from your view, being replaced by a grey, cloudy sky. You close your eyes, feeling the droplets on your face and the air rushing by your ears, and you’re strangely calm. All you can think of is Cal.
Are you okay? I wish we had properly made up before this. 
When your back hits the water of the river at the base of the cliff, your survival instincts are awoken all at once. The current is stronger than what it seemed from up the ledge. You swim with all your might, trying to stay afloat and taking gulps of air whenever you can. it isn't long until your arms are burning from the sudden effort, and you scan your surroundings, desperate to find something to hold onto. The river seems to open up and away from the cliffside. Here, the shores are filled with mangrove-like trees, their roots thick and plenty, some of them stretching out like low-hanging branches over the water surface. You try to hold on to one, but your gloves don't provide much of a grip, so you take them off and ditch them. Nearing the next big branch, you ready yourself and throw your upper body out of the water so that you can hold onto it with both your arms, and it works. Slowly, you inch closer and closer to the tree trunk, until you reach the shore. Letting yourself fall onto the mossy ground, you take some deep breaths trying to calm down your breathing, racing heart and aching limbs.
You pat your uniform and conclude that you lost your bag somewhere along the way, which had your holopad and all your equipment. You sit up and wipe the back of your sleeve over your eyes, but the constant rain keeps hitting your face. You pop open the collar of your uniform and it feels like ridding yourself of a chokehold. The uniforms were never particularly comfortable, being on the stiff side, but drenched like this, it’s much worse.
Looking around, you stand up; you have no idea where you are or where the ship could be. Giving yourself one more pat down, you find your comlink in one of your zipped up pockets, and thank the Maker under your breath. 
“Hello? Does anyone copy?”
You can hear static, so you assume that it is working, but it’s the mic or speaker, or both that are ruined. At least from the ship they should be able to locate you with it. 
A gust of wind makes you shiver slightly; despite it being a rather tropical climate, being completely wet does make you feel the dropping temperatures that will probably await you at night. In fact, it’s starting to get dark. 
They’ll find me. It’s fine. I just have to make sure I’m alive by the time they get here, hah, you tell yourself with a wry chuckle. 
First thing you have to do is seek shelter from the relentless rain. Hugging yourself, you cringe at the sensation of your feet against the wet boots, but you still take step after step into the vegetation, looking for some place to dry off. Completely lost and giving up on the idea of ever getting out of this maze by yourself, the only information you keep in your head is the direction of the river; you'll be needing water after all. For now, you could just drink rain water though, so you venture further and further away into the forest. With the dense branches sporting big, round leaves, they already stop part of the rain, but not enough. Finally, you come across a big tree, the roots lifted into the air so that they form something akin to a cage, and the ground beneath it is dry; that's exactly what you need.
Hurrying through the gaps between the roots, you take off your boots, jacket and trousers, giving everything a good squeeze to wring as much water out as possible. Left in your underwear and a black short sleeve shirt, you wonder what to do next. You’d need food soon. You sigh, leaning back onto the rough surface of the tree.
“This is exactly why I wanted an office job,” you say bitterly. So much for being excited about a mission ‘on the field’. 
For now, you decide to wait out the rain, which could hopefully stop just as suddenly as it started, and you just sit there, holding your comlink in your hands, looking at it intently. 
After a while, the rain finally seems to subside, and while your clothes are nowhere dry, you don’t exactly want to explore a jungle half naked. So you put your trousers back on, which takes a while, as the wet fabric keeps sticking to your legs. After what feels like another workout, you finally zip them up, and put on your equally wet boots. Oh, how you crave a warm shower right now. 
Taking the jacket into your hands, you feel the wet fabric and decide to leave it. Your skin dried much faster, so it was better to be a little cold without a jacket than very cold with a drenched one. Placing your comlink into your pocket, you go foraging for some sort of fruit or berry. After the rain and with no equipment, you doubt you’d be able to start a fire to cook anything, so you have to find something you can eat raw. 
As you’re picking some reddish purple berries from a bush and contemplating if you can eat them, you hear some rustling behind you. Dropping the berries and immediately turning around, you’re met with a human and you notice several things. First of all, they’re holding their side, which is bleeding a lot, their clothes stained in a dark red. Second, you see the lightsabre in their hand, emitting a blueish hue, its electric hum the only sound aside of their ragged breathing. And third, you see the plea in their deep brown eyes, silently asking you for help. Almost in the same moment, you also see their eyes dart down to your uniform and back up to your own, realisation spreading on their face. And you’re conflicted.
You know who’s after them. You know what’s going to happen. So it’s not like you don’t want to help; you can’t. If the circumstances were different, would you help? You realise you don’t want to know the answer to that. Either way, you're unarmed, hungry and shivering, so you can't really put up much of a fight against them either. 
“I'm sorry,” you say instead, and you're not really sure which part you're apologising for. You're about to take a step to the side and gesture them to go past you, but you hear footsteps approaching quickly.
The stranger winces in pain as they try to take another step, but collapse onto the ground, the sabre retracting with a whirr. They look up at you again, this time enraged, a deep frown etched into their face, and you're about to say something, but a modulated voice is quicker.
“Officer, what are you doing here?” It’s the purge trooper.
“I- I fell,” you say sheepishly. He scoffs in disbelief, shaking his head.
“Well, good job stopping our target. It’s a slippery one, this one.”
The trooper picks up the sabre, and turns around the Jedi onto their back with his boot, earning a pained grunt. From behind him emerges Cal out of the vegetation, and you’re horrified at how he looks: helmet gone, hair wild, and face partially covered in blood. If it’s his own or not, you can’t tell. He looks frustrated and beyond angry. You’re about to say something, asking if he’s okay, but the sharp look in his eyes freezes you in your spot. 
“It’s the end of the line now, Jedi,” he spits through gritted teeth, and holds his red lightsabre a little tighter. He shoots you a quick look, then at his trooper, and motions with his head to the side. The man nods and turns to you, grabbing you by your bicep, and starts dragging you away. 
“Wait, wait!” You try to turn back around, but the trooper’s grip keeps facing you forward. When you reach a thick tree, he slams your back into it rather harshly, and tells you to stay there. He doesn’t move from in front of you, holding onto his electrostaff with both hands. It emits an electric crackle of purplish hue, clearly warning you not try anything funny. And to be honest, you don't have the energy right now, so you just rest the back of your head against the bark. You can hear the stranger starting to plead for their life, trying to get under Cal’s skin, saying something about a time before being an inquisitor, but Cal is fresh out of patience, and the Jedi chokes on their words. Their laboured breathing fills this corner of the jungle, and after the sound of a lightsabre swinging and the distinct sizzling of flesh, there is silence.
The purge trooper stretches his neck to see past the tree, then gestures to you with a quick nod.
“Let’s go,” he says, and you comply.
Cal stands in front of the body, partially shielding it from your view, and you walk past him as well, following the trooper. As you three make your way back, you notice there's no trace of the second purge trooper that had left with them.
“The other one's dead,” Cal says before you can even ask, and gets handed the Jedi’s lightsabre, which he clips onto his belt. “Why are you down here? And where's your jacket?” You sigh.
“I fell,” you say, and it still sounds as stupid as it did before. “I slipped, and fell down the cliff. I left my jacket by the river. But before that I did get the receiver hooked up and I know how to decrypt the messages. Do you know if my squad made it back to the ship?”
“Don’t know, our comms don't really seem to work down here.” He suddenly stops and looks around, gesturing to a different direction, and the purge trooper takes off through the bushes. Cal turns back to you, and you shoot him a questioning look. 
“You fell from a cliff? Just what were you doing.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly distressed by your reckless actions. “I pinged you several times, and you didn't answer. I knew it probably was the signal being jammed but… I thought that– What if–”
“Hey, it's okay. I'm okay.” You place your hand on his chest and that's when you notice several gashes on his uniform. “Are you okay, though?”
He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, his worry replaced by exasperation.
“You really shouldn't have–”
He stops in the middle of his sentence and takes a quick step back away from you as both your heads turn towards the sound of approaching footsteps. The purge trooper approaches Cal and hands him his helmet. Or what's left of it, anyway. The visor is broken, the part that sits above the jaw seems to have been sliced off entirely, and there are several dents on the other side. Your eyes meet Cal’s again in worry, but he avoids your gaze entirely. 
“Let’s move.”
The trek back to the ship is quick, as per the relentless pace of the two men. There are some obstacles on the way though, where you need a little help. When crossing a river with a particularly strong current, you lose your footing on the rocky riverbed, and find yourself holding onto the next best thing, which happens to be the purge trooper. He lets you hold him as he guides you across to the other side, where he quickly shakes you off. You wonder if he’s really that uncomfortable to be close to you, and you make a mental note not to ask purge troopers for anything in the future, especially if it entailed physical contact of any kind. But what you didn't see were the Force daggers that Cal was stabbing into the back of the poor man’s head.
Not long after the river, you come face to face with an abrupt slope with a flat, rocky surface. It’s almost like a wall, leading to the plateau above. It’s too high to jump and too even to climb, so you wonder how you will get up there. Once again, Cal seems to read your mind, as before you can even ask, you see him essentially levitating up and onto the ledge above. Now that's a handy Force trick. You expect him to throw down a rope or something for you to hold onto, but instead, you're being lifted off the ground by an invisible force, as is the trooper next to you. Once you reach the top, you’re gently placed back on solid ground, while the trooper is let go far earlier, which he is unprepared for, so he falls forward and onto his knees with a grunt. But he gets back up onto his feet without complaints or remarks, simply dusting off his thighs and continuing the way back to the ship. You want to scold Cal a little for being unnecessarily mean, but the harshness still etched into his face, now stained with dry and flaky patches of blood, refrains you from making any comments. 
Finally, you make it back to a place you recognise, where the ship isn’t far away. You run off first, despite your muscles screaming in pain to finally give them some rest. The cargo door is closed, and you bang your hand on it twice.
“Open up!” you order, and the ramp opens with a mechanical hiss, then gets lowered down. You quickly climb up before it even completely reaches the ground.  
“Officer!” both stormtroopers exclaim in unison and in apparent relief when they see you alive and in one piece. One of them runs off to the equipment storage to get a blanket for you, and you gladly accept it. Only now do you realise how cold and stiff your whole body feels. 
“Have you been intercepting the messages?” you ask, grabbing a spare holopad to log into your receiver’s software to start decrypting. 
“Yes, and as you said, it’s a coded transmission made with static bursts” the first trooper explains, the one you had been on the cliff with. “I covered up the receiver with the canvas as you asked, and we’ve been monitoring it this whole time, but we didn’t know how to decrypt it without you…”
“That’s okay, that’s my job after all.” You playfully shove your elbow into his side. “I’m just glad you’re both alive.” You smile genuinely at them, and you wonder if they're smiling back at you from under their helmets as well. The Empire may think that stormtroopers are easily replaceable, but this is your squad. And you intend to take care of them.
You take a step back to take a seat and start decrypting, but your back bumps into something, or rather someone. You turn around just in time to see Cal gesture to the purge trooper, who once again merely gives a short nod, then heads to the cockpit.
“Let’s get out of here,” is the last thing you hear him say before the cockpit and cargo doors close with a hiss, and the engines start.
Cal and you just stand there for a moment, looking at each other. 
“Are you going to say something?,” you go first. “Because if not, I have work to do.”
You sit down and he doesn't stop you, instead taking a seat next to you. You type away on the holopad, letter by letter, and the message starts forming. By typing with both hands you’re quicker, but the blanket keeps slipping down from your shoulders. Cal notices and picks it up, wrapping your form in it properly again, and then leaving his arm around you so it would stay there. You give him a quick ‘thanks’, but don't stop what you're doing. For a moment you wonder if you're giving him the silent treatment, and if so, why, but you really have to get this thing decrypted, so you focus on that for the time being. 
At some point, Cal carefully places his head on your shoulder, and when you don't shoo him away, he properly gets comfortable. By then, you've written a program to automate the decoding. It's a bit crude and not your best, but it works. Now the decrypted message appears much faster, and it seems to be mostly correct, except for the occasional letter here and there. The message is still clear and understandable, though, and you can feel your focus and energy quickly depleting, so you decide it’s good enough for now. You set it up so that the live decryption gets sent back to HQ as your receiver feeds the rebel comms into it.
Setting down your holopad on the seat next to you with a yawn, you gently stroke Cal’s cheek.
“You awake?” you ask softly, and he hums.
“You done?” he asks back, and you hum as well.
Then you sit in silence again. The constant rumbling of the ship, combined with your adrenaline completely gone now, is all inviting you to the sweet embrace of sleep.
“We have to talk when we get back,” is the last thing you manage to mumble before drifting into a deep, dreamless sleep. 
— — —
You wake up to your shoulder being shaken and the repeated call of your name. Your eyes shoot open and you sit up straight, immediately slumping back down with a wince as your whole body aches, both because of the whole river action earlier, and sleeping in such a weird position. 
Standing up with a grunt, you shiver as you look down at yourself: still without a jacket, your boots and trousers are stained with dirt, moss and sand. Your upper half must look even worse. Especially with the marks on your neck and who knows where else, courtesy of the inquisitor himself. So you grab the blanket and wrap it around yourself like a hooded poncho of sorts, hoping to hide most of your face and dirty clothes.
“I called earlier and they're waiting with a stretcher for you at the hangar,” Cal says as you try to hide both your head and legs, but the blanket clearly isn't big enough for that. You turn around with a raised eyebrow. “They're going to wrap you up and take you straight to medbay. So no one will see you.”
“How–”
“I may or may not have said that you might have a slight case of hypothermia.”
“We were on a planet with tropical climate,” you retort.
“I was convincing,” is all he says.
You can't question him further, as you feel the familiar sway of a landing ship. When it hits the ground with a ‘clunk’, everything happens so quickly: the cockpit and cargo doors open, and Cal suddenly picks you up bridal style. He places you onto the promised stretcher which is already waiting at the base of the ramp, and two med troopers quickly wrap you up in an emergency foil blanket. Just like that, you're taken to the medbay. 
After your check-up, they tell you that other than being a little shaken and dehydrated, you're fine. You're free to stay a little longer to rest up, but you can also leave if you feel like it. And just like that, you're alone in the little room. How Cal managed to convince them to give you the private medbay room, you still don't know. But at this point, you should probably be used to it. Inquisitors seem to get almost anything they want here. Albeit at a cost.
The cot is decently comfy, and you consider staying here for a couple more hours to nap and rest up, knowing you won't be interrupted. So you get comfortable with a sigh, and just as you find a good position to sleep in, the doors open. You groan, lifting the blanket over your face. 
“I thought you were asleep,” Cal says as the doors close behind him and he approaches your bed. 
“I was about to be,” you reply with a sigh and fold the blanket back down to sit up properly. You're about to ask him what he wants, when you see that he’s sporting several bandages, one on his jaw, and some on his torso, visible through the white shirt he’s wearing. 
“Are you okay?,” you ask and scoot over on the bed to make what little room you can spare for him to sit. However, he stays where he stands.
“Just a couple of scratches, I’ve had worse,” he replies, but it doesn’t make you feel better. “What about you?”
“Well, it’s not hypothermia,” you joke, in an attempt to ease the strange tension building between the two of you, but he doesn’t react. “I’ve basically been discharged. I was just about to nap, but… what is it?”
He looks at you as if he didn’t know what you mean. But the whole time, he’s been chewing the inside of his cheek. Clearly something is on his mind, and right now you don't have the energy to play the back and forth game.
“You want to tell me something, right? So, tell me.” You want to sound trusting, but it comes out harsher than you meant. He seems slightly taken aback.
“You said earlier you wanted to talk,” he retorts defensively. “And I understand.”
“What do you mean?”
He hesitates for a second.
“We don’t need to keep–” He looks for the right word. “–seeing each other.”
You pause for a moment, trying to dig deeper behind his words and try to get the real meaning out, but you're lost and rather shocked by his words.
“What do you mean?” you repeat yourself, alarmed.
He sighs, running his hand through his hair; he's nervous.
“I didn’t want you to see it,” he starts, avoiding looking at you. “It’s a side of me I didn't want you to see.”
“Oh,” you say, and you understand what he's getting at; the whole hunting and killing Jedi business. 
“What do you mean, ‘oh’?” he asks, his eyes finding yours and narrowing them at you. “Isn’t that what you wanted to talk about?”
“I mean, we can talk about it if you want to. I–” You sheepishly fidget with your fingers on your lap. You actually wanted to talk about how he treats his purge troopers, but this is far more important, you realise. “Yeah, let’s talk about that.”
Before he can inquire what you actually meant to talk about, you gesture for him to sit next to you. He still doesn’t move.
“Please sit,” you insist, and finally, he does. With the extra weigh dipping the mattress, you kind of lean into his side. You keep talking, both of you looking ahead. “Everything I said earlier, it still stands, you know.”
He doesn’t respond, so you continue.
“About the… warmth. And you being you and still deserving it.” You gingerly place your hand over his, and he momentarily flinches, but doesn’t pull away. “I’m not stupid, Cal. I know what you do. I’ve been aware of it from the start. And I simply don’t care. It’s not like my job is any better. My work also has… certain consequences, for others. And I’ve made peace with it.”
Finally you dare look up at him, his gaze still cast down. You can feel him trembling slightly though.
“You may be an inquisitor to others, but to me you're just Cal.” You squeeze his hand, and he squeezes back. “Cal who makes pancakes with me. Cal who calls in a stretcher for me so I can save myself the embarrassment of my boss seeing me being a dirty, flustered mess. Cal who would stab someone else for looking at me the wrong way.”
He chuckles lightly at that. You reach out to cup his face, and make him look at you.
“But also the Cal who has nightmares. Cal who is sometimes scared out of his mind. Cal who asks me to stay the night because he doesn’t want to be alone with his thoughts. I want all of them.” You pause for a second, but you’re too tired to fight the question that’s been pestering your mind for ages now. “And all those versions of Cal… they give me warmth too. Right?”
His shoulders slump slightly with a sharp exhale.
“They do,” he finally answers in a voice so small you almost miss it. 
“Glad we could clear that up then,” you say just as softly, and close the gap to place a kiss to his lips, and he reciprocates so tenderly, holding your face like it could crumble any moment and disappear through his fingers. 
You want to pull back from the kiss, but his lips follow yours, capturing them once again. Cal climbs on top of you, pushing you back down onto the mattress.
“Don’t you want to get back to–” you try offering to move to a better location, but your words are interrupted by the squeal you let out as he pinches your side. 
“We have to make up for lost time,” he states, getting back to attacking you with kisses, each one more and more ferocious.
You hear the distinct hiss of the doors opening, but Cal is quick to close them again with a quick flick of his wrist. From the other side, you can hear the nurse complaining. 
“The officer is busy,” Cal calls over his shoulder, looking down at you the way a predator looks at its prey. “Come back later.” 
— — —
Later that night, after a shower and slipping into your comfiest PJs, you’re both in his bed. Cal lies on his back and you have your head on his chest, drawing random figures onto his shirt. 
“Are you sure about this?” Cal asks for the hundredth time. 
“Yes,” you reassure him, propping yourself up on your elbow so you can place a kiss on his nose. “I’ll talk you through it. Just, try to stay in the dream. It will all work out, I promise.” 
“Right,” he sighs, closing his eyes, and takes a deep breath. 
You get back to cuddling into his side, and the even drumming of his heartbeat does quick work of lulling you to sleep.
It doesn’t take long, however, and you wake up to Cal twitching again. His brows are furrowed, his hands holding onto the bedsheet for dear life, and you sit up next to him, caressing his hair and holding his hand, whispering words of encouragement.
Cal is back on Bracca, collecting scraps from the same ships that he used to call home back when he was a Padawan. That seems so long ago now. Lifetimes ago. And maybe it is. 
What would his younger self think of what he is now? 
Cal stands at the edge of the partially stripped apart engine, impossibly small against the size of the machinery. A voice calls out to him, and he turns around. The world around him spins, turning into a blinding white, and he shields his eyes from the sudden change with his hands. 
“Why are you here?” a trembling voice asks.
Cal looks up, meeting his own eyes, still a greenish blue, of his 13-year-old self. Disappointment and horror etched into his little face.
“What have you done?” another voice spits condescendingly.
Cal whips around, now looking at his master, Jaro Tapal, looking at him in disgust. 
“Cal!” 
He turns around again, starting to get dizzy, and his body freezes up, he can’t breathe. He’s standing at the edge of a scrapper platform now, surrounded by other people he used to know, but all their faces are blurred or scratched out. However, he can clearly see Prauf, his good friend Prauf, confronting the Second Sister. She holds her sabre at his throat, the blade sizzling in the rain. The red hue reflects in Prauf’s eyes.
Cal instinctively reaches out to his belt, expecting to find his own lightsabre, but it’s not there. He looks down at himself, and sees that he’s donning full inquisitor armour. 
“Kill him,” the Second Sister orders.
Finally, Cal seems to be able to move and breathe again, and he takes a huge gulp of air. 
“I said, kill him,” she repeats.
“No,” Cal says, and she slowly turns around to him. 
“No?”, she chuckles, but the venom spills out of her voice like an overflowing glass of spotchka. It burns. 
Suddenly, Cal is shoved in her direction against his will, and his inquisitor lightsabre appears in his hand. His arm is lifted into the air by an invisible force, about to swing down on top of Prauf’s head. 
“Do it!” she yells, and Cal screams as well, trying with all his might to hold back his arm. 
He hates this, he wants out. It hurts too much. The force trying to push down his arm and the sad look in his friend’s eyes tear into his heart like iron claws, shredding everything in its way.
Cal can hear the Second Sister’s voice yelling, urging him to get it done, but he hears something else too: it’s you. Your voice cuts through the cacophony of the scrapping grounds, pushing away all sounds of machinery, drills, saws, the rain itself and the inquisitor’s voice. Shoving it all aside, there’s just you.
“It’s okay, Cal,” you say, and the oppressing force on his arm is lifted with every word of yours. “I’m here, it’s okay. You’re okay. You’re not alone.”
Finally, the force is gone entirely, and he screams in both pain and relief. Cal lets go of his weapon, which retracts mid-air with a whirr, and it falls to the ground. 
The world around him freezes, and everyone disappears. He’s back in the blinding white room, now  in his old scrapper outfit.
“Cal,” Prauf’s voice comes from behind him, and the redhead whips around. 
“My friend,” Prauf says warmly, as he always did, and stretches out his arms. A silent invitation. 
Cal hesitates only for a second, then gives in. Taking the few steps that separate the two, he lets himself be embraced by the Abednedo. Unable to hold back, he cries into his friend’s chest. 
“I’m sorry,” he rasps between sobs. 
“It wasn’t your fault,” the older man comforts him, lightly patting Cal’s back. “It’s not your fault.”
After a few more moments, when Cal’s cries subside, he pulls back to look up at Prauf.
“Why am I here?” he asks.
Prauf smiles down at him.
“I just wanted to let you know: it’s not your fault,” he says, placing his hands on the younger man’s shoulders and giving them a squeeze. “And to say thank you, for being my friend. I hope you found your way off Bracca and can have a peaceful life. You’ve been through so much, kid.”
Cal feels another wave of tears prickling behind his eyes.
“You never really belonged on Bracca, but I’m glad I met you,” Prauf says, his voice trailing off, as if swept off by the wind, as his image also starts disappearing from in front of Cal. “I hope you found your place.”
“No, wait!” he calls, trying to hold on to him, but his hands phase through the shadow of the figure still left.
Suddenly, Cal sits up on the bed with a scream, which takes you by surprise and you flinch backwards, falling onto your hands on the bed. 
He holds his shirt over his heart so tightly that his knuckles turn white, and with a broken sob, he lets himself fall back onto the bed. You hurry to scoot closer.
“You were right,” Cal says between sobs. “The Force was trying to get a message to me.”
That night, you hold him as he cries, this time not out of fear, but because he can finally allow himself to grief the loss of a friend from a long time ago.
I found my place, Prauf, Cal thinks, about to drift off to sleep after the exhaustion of crying takes over. He looks at you lying on his chest one last time, a soft smile spreading on his lips.
He hopes that some day, he’ll be able to find warmth just with you, not needing to resort to other methods ever again. And maybe then, finally, he can offer you all the warmth back that he forgot he held.
~~~~~
🐥 taglist: [link to join in my pinned post!] @dybynyght, @galaxtic-writings, @kalea-bane, @soka-writes-things, @padawancat97, @riddikulus-obsessions, @optimisticprime3, @starilicious, @ivelostmyabilitytoeven, @alternatescififandomelover, @lovelyygirl8, @cathyket
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writerblue275 · 3 months
Text
How the Heartsteel members would take care of a sick/injured S/O.
Inspiration: Extremely self-serving, but I don’t care. I’m currently in the midst of a chronic illness episode. For me that involves an ungodly headache that can last for straight days, if not weeks, and other bs. All because my body can’t handle sodium 😭. If I don’t do something to distract myself, I’m going to cry, and I’d rather not do that, so here we gooooo.
Genre: Headcanon
Type: Fluff (very very slight angst in the concept [if you squint] just because you don’t feel good).
Gender: Gender Neutral Reader
Tw: None! This is pure fluff. 🥰
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Aphelios
Aphelios would actually be a great caretaker.
I think a lot of this comes from an excellent example. We know Alune took care of Aphelios when he was injured/after his surgeries. Since he was the recipient of her wonderful care, he knows what to do.
Extremely prepared. He’ll work from your place as much as possible so he can be close by (he has that little mobile keyboard set up shown in his “what’s in my bag” pic). Excellent at running out to grab supplies/medication (I feel like he has an excellent memory so you just need to tell/show him something once). Also phenomenal at making sure you take your meds on schedule and changing any dressings/wraps.
If for some reason an extra set of hands is needed or Phel needs further advice on how to best care for you, you know who he’s texting? Alune! She is happy to help however she can because you’re her friend too and she hates knowing you’re sick/in pain.
I feel like Phel’s immune system is pretty strong so even if you were contagious, he’d cuddle you. If he was really worried, there’s always his mask. (Makes my public health heart sing.) He has many extras so you can snag one too in order to be doubly safe. You get those healing cuddles!
Ezreal
This is where Ezreal’s typical golden retriever energy is extra useful!!
Like genuinely I think Ez is a really really sweet “nurse” and will do an excellent job of taking care of you. Or at the very least, he’s great at distracting you and making you smile so you don’t feel as shitty/in pain.
I can’t see Ez cooking tbh (mood), but he is more than happy to order delivery/run to grab whatever carry out whenever you want it. If he can’t do it because he needs to stay with you for some reason, he’s texting Alune and the boys and practically begging them to help him out. (One of them always does. They love you and want you to heal.)
Also happy to run out to grab whatever supplies you need. This sweet green bean is so eager to help you heal that not only will he grab what you ask for, he’ll also grab other things that you might not need. He’s of the mindset it’s better to be overprepared rather than underprepared.
I can’t see Ezreal wanting to cuddle if you’re contagious, tbh, which is fair, but he’ll definitely make sure you have all the blankets and pillows you need. He will sit near-ish to you though and hold your hand. And if you’re not contagious? Oh he’s clinging to you as much as you want him to.
Kayn
Ok…so…this isn’t Kayn’s specialty as a partner, let’s be honest here.
Kayn is an amazing partner in so many other ways, but he’s not exactly...naturally nurturing? BUT that doesn’t mean he’s not going to try. He knows you need him, so he’s really going to put in a lot of effort to try and take care of you as best he can. (This secretly sweet rockstar!)
Kayn might fake grumble about it, but he will definitely go out and get whatever supplies you need. You may need to take a picture of a label/find one on the internet but he’s got you! (“Baby, there are so many CHOICES. How do I know which is the right one? I don’t want to get something you don’t need!”)
The first time you were sick/injured and he was with you, he texted the HS group chat for advice on how to take care of you and shocked everyone. (That was the moment the rest of HS knew Kayn was really head over heels for you. 🥹 <- Their faces as they read the texts.)
One thing I cannot see him doing is cuddling you when you’re sick (unless you’re not contagious). He doesn’t want to get sick himself. He will tuck you in and give you surprisingly soft forehead kisses though. He says they’re to check your temp but you know they’re to show he cares.
K’Sante
K’Sante is another member who just gives off such excellent and caring vibes. He has to come from a big, close-knit family, because he gives eldest brother vibes through and through.
Because of this, he’s perfect at taking care of you when you’re sick or injured. He’s done the same thing for his siblings/cousins many times.
Even though Sett is officially the best cook, I still fully believe K’Sante can throw down in the kitchen. Whenever possible, he’s making everything from scratch for you. You deserve it, after all. His meals alone will have you starting to feel way better.
He is fully stocked on OTC meds, ice packs, bandages, whatever you need. As a gym bro, K’Sante can get pretty sore, so he’s already got that stuff around for himself. Also, anything you need picked up, he’s got that taken care of.
As the eldest who took care of his younger family members, K’Sante’s immune system is PREPARED. Unless it is before a really big event, he would be fine cuddling you, even if you’re contagious. If it is close to a big event then he’s understandably a little more hesitant (he does have obligations to HS) but he’ll still be nearish to you and hold your hand so you know he’s there.
Sett
Ooooooh baby this is Sett’s time to fucking SHINE.
He was raised by his incredible Ma! Like of course Sett’s going to be really fucking good at taking care of you. (He already does an excellent job of doing that when you’re not sick/injured.)
We know he’s the best cook in the group so homemade soup/whatever comfort food you want/need you will have and it will be delicious. Really good about reminding you to take any meds you need to (he sets a reminder in his phone). Also fully stocked on OTC meds, medical wraps, ice packs, etc. Like he is PREPARED. (Perks of loving a gym bro.)
Happy to give you cuddles if that will help. I feel like Sett is another member that has an immune system of steel, so even if you’re sick, he’s still cuddling you if you want him to. (You definitely do like 95% of the time because how could you not?? Sett cuddles sound fucking elite!)
Worst-case scenario and you get sick while he’s traveling? He makes sure you are in the very best hands possible and sends in the big guns. That’s right, he has Ma come over to check on you/stay with you if need be (which she is happy to do because she adores you and loves how happy you make her son).
Yone
I think Yone would be a phenomenal “nurse!”
He might come across as cold/intimidating to those who don’t know him, but you always bring the soft side of him out. That’s totally applicable when you’re sick. Sweet Yone incoming!!
He cared for his younger brother Yasuo when he was sick or injured, so he is well versed in what supplies are useful for a multitude of ailments. Is well stocked on all of it too. If for some reason you need something and he doesn’t have it, he’s remedying that ASAP.
I’ve been thinking about whether or not Yone cooks. My gut says not really besides breakfast food. While he’s not going to make you homemade soup/your comfort food, you bet he’s asking Sett or K’Sante to make some for you. (They’re happy to do so. You keep your their producer sane. Helping you is self-preservation 😂.)
While he’s likely been injured many times, I feel like this beautiful motherfucker (affectionate!!) has never been ill a day in his life. His immune system is just that strong. Whatever the issue, he is down to give you whatever cuddles you desire. (I’m bringing back my headcanon of cuddly Yone and NO ONE CAN STOP ME 😋.) Enjoy the forehead kisses and sweet little verbal check-ins.
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mannequinreligi0n · 3 months
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Hiii!!
I loove your fics and lately I've been begging for some new Nero fics 🫡🫡
Could I request a fic with Nero and fem!reader where they're really good friends and yknow It's really cold outside and they both have to stay in an inn. Maybe one of the two offers their bed? And they both finally give in after a long while of hidding their feelings.
I really really crave some cute fluffy Nero smut, reader being her first🤭
Don't stress too much about this, and of course you can choose to write it or not!!
Thank you sweetie🫶🫶
ty for this !! i love a good ‘oh noooo, there’s only one bed’ trope.
tbh im not the biggest nero lover so this was a slight challenge but it ended up pretty good and a lot longer than expected lol. i also didn’t know how to end it but i hope you enjoy !!!!
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Two Pals, One Bed
an unexpected storm puts you and nero in an unlikely situation
PAIRING: DMC5 Nero x afab reader
WARNINGS: (NSFW!: first-time/virgin!reader, fingering, penetration)
WORD COUNT: 2k
🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟
The sheets of rain pounded on the windshield of the van, making visibility hard on the patchy road. You flicked out the wrinkles in the map, squinting in the light of your phone to see the web of routes.
“Can’t see a damn foot in front of me like this.”, Nero grumbled from the driver’s seat. “No thanks to you, by the way.”
His pointed blame made you crinkle the map in your hands. You both had been driving for seemingly hours, trying to make it home from a job, but the storm was making it hard to navigate the backroads.
“There’s an inn after the next right, we’ll duck from the rain til morning.”
Nero sighed and shook his head. “We would’ve been home by now, if it wasn’t for your dumbass.” He peered over the steering wheel, on the lookout for the upcoming turn.
“Nuh uh,”, you started, a scowl on your face, “don’t pin this on me! I don’t control the weather.”
“Whatever.”
Nero makes the right and after a couple miles of silence, the faint beacon of lit windows pierces through the gloom. Pulling into the lot in front of the inn, Nero parks the car and hops out. You follow suit and hastily trail behind him, using your bag as cover from the harsh rain. Entering the inn, you walk slowly to examine the tacky decor - artificial fish and paintings of sunny beaches mocking your drenched clothes. Nero makes a beeline to the front desk and is quick to return with a set of keys in hand.
“We got lucky. Seems like everyone had the same idea, but they had one room left.” Nero pats you on the shoulder and cocks his head toward the direction of the stairs. “C’mon.”
You nod and follow Nero up the stairs to your appointed room, sighing in relief to be out of the storm. Nero drops his backpack on the desk and stares at the single queen-sized bed in the center of the room.
“……..one bed.”
“One bed.”, you repeat. It seems that the universe thought it would be funny if you two shared a bed after a night of endless bickering and side-eyes. You eventually shrug and flop down on the bed, looking up at Nero. “I mean, we’ve slept in worse conditions, right? You remember the cyclops cave?”
That earns a tiny smile from him, chiseling away at the tension from earlier.
“Thanks for reminding me. It’s not like I spend every waking moment trying to forget the smell of decay and ball sweat.”
You both laugh and you feel the frustration slowly leave your body. Nero digs around his bag for a change of clothes and heads to the bathroom to change. You take this as your cue to do the same, pulling out a clean shirt and pair of underwear and discarding your old ones in the corner of the room. You crawl into the bed, flicking on the tv and settling in. Nero returns a few minutes later, changed and seemingly back to his easy-going self. He switches off the lights and gets into the bed, leaving some space between you both. You both watch a rerun of an old sitcom before Nero breaks the silence.
“I’m sorry for being an asshole to you. You were only trying to help, and I shouldn’t have taken my anger out on you.”
The apology doesn’t take you completely by surprise, considering that Nero is the most levelheaded person you know, but you appreciate it nonetheless. You pull the covers up over you, sinking down to lay on your pillow as you address him.
“Don’t worry about it, Nero. We’ve had a long day and have gotten thrown every which way - it’s no one’s fault. Besides, I’m happy it was with you and not with anyone else, it could’ve gone a lot worse.”
Nero nods in agreement but he’s not lost on the subtle flirting in your last sentence. Nero glances down at you resting form, your eyes trained on the tv mounted to the wall. For the past few weeks, it seems you two have been dancing around the obvious for the sake of staying focused on work. But considering that you both are literally in the same bed, it’s hard to ignore now. You look up to him, his face turning a pretty pink from being caught staring.
“Was there something else?”, you ask, noting his blush.
“You’re really pretty.”
Nero blurts out the compliment, heart starting to pick up from embarrassment. ‘Reaaaal smooth, Nero. Bet Dante would get a kick out of this’, he thinks to himself. Your own face turns red in response, a shy smile on your face.
“You really think so?”
“I know so.” Nero starts, sliding down to be beside you under the covers. “And smart, funny, brave.”
You stare at him with awe, in disbelief that those words left his mouth. Without another breath, you lean to the side where he’s laying and kiss him. It’s a gentle, tentative kiss, but full of meaning and longing. Nero’s brain short-circuits and it takes a second before he returns the kiss. Slow and cautious, your mouths explore this newfound feeling. Without breaking away, Nero rolls on top of you, hands running up your sides. Feelings of excitement and anxiety intermingle in your stomach and you break the kiss to look up at him, eyes wide. Nero returns the look with concern, his hand cupping your face.
“You okay? Did…did I do something wrong?”
“No, I-“, you cut yourself off, building up confidence before speaking again. “I need to tell you something.”
Nero raises his eyebrows, interest piqued. “You know you can tell me anything.”
You gulp and take a deep breath, making sure that this is really happening. You look down at the empty space between the two of you as you speak. “I’ve never gone this far with anyone.” You pause, frowning slightly. “I mean, I’ve messed around but I’ve never actually….slept with anyone before.”
Nero runs a hand over your hair and kisses your forehead sweetly. There’s a clear look of understanding on his face. “Y/N, you don’t have anything to be sorry about. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. And if you don’t wanna do anything now, I won’t hold that against you either.”
“I want to, I’m just nervous.” Your eyes have a vulnerability to them, like you’re already standing there naked in front of him.
“It’s okay to be nervous. Fuck, I’m nervous. But, it’ll be okay, as long as you enjoy it. And if you change your mind or need me to stop, that’s okay, too.”
With his reassurance, you nod and pull him back down to reinstate the kiss. Nero sighs into your mouth, happy to be connected again. You feel his hands snake down to your thighs, running over the exposed skin with light touches. As scared as you were, everything felt right in this moment. Your own shaky hands moved to tug at his shirt to help him out of it. Nero yanks the shirt over his head before reaching to pull down your underwear. He stops and looks up at you, waiting for the green light from you; you give him an eager nod and he proceeds. You feel his fingers brush against your sensitive bud and your breathing hitches in your chest. His fingers move slow, tracing circles into your flesh as his mouth trails sweet kisses to your ear.
“You okay, sweetheart?”
Nero’s soft voice and tender touches elicits a moan from you, almost forgetting to reply to him. You turn to look at him and mumble a ‘yes’ out, hips rocking against his hand. Nero hums in content, moving his fingers to your already wet slit. He toys with the hole for a moment, testing the waters in case you change your mind. By the way you’re sighing and whimpering, he takes it as his sign to go on, pushing in two fingers slowly. Your back arches, jaw dropping silently. Pumping slowly in and out, his strong, slender fingers tease your g-spot. Your hands fly to his shoulders, gripping onto him for support. Minutes go by as your climax builds up, your walls pulsing around his fingers. Before you can warn him of the oncoming wave, his fingers slip out, making you groan in disappointment. He laughs at your noise, slipping off the rest of his clothes.
“Easy, tiger. I got more to give, believe me.”, he chuckles. Leaning down to kiss you once more, he positions himself between your legs. “Ready, pretty girl?”
You nod and smile into his mouth. “Ready.”
Aligning with your slick, Nero pushes into you with a moan of satisfaction. You bury your head in his neck, stifling a cry from being stretched. Nero’s arm comes up to wrap around your head protectively, cradling you in comfort. Once fully in, he stays still to let you adjust to the new feeling. You feel your breathing slow down and you nod again, letting him know it’s okay to move. His cock slips almost completely out of you until he pushes it back in, repeating this until he creates a steady, sensual rhythm. Mewls from you are muffled by how close Nero’s holding you - his free hand hooking under one of your knees to lift you ever so slightly. Over and over, the head of his cock hits that sweet spot and you feel your orgasm start to build back up, ready to satisfy the delay from earlier. The moment feels surreal, considering how many times you’ve dreamt of this moment, and you flex your fingers every now and then to remind yourself it’s really happening.
You look out from your safe place in Nero’s neck and see him above you - eyes shut, mouth ajar, and a sheen layer of sweat making him glisten in the light of the tv still playing. The display from him is what sets you off, knowing that you’re the cause of it. Your core tightens and those familiar electric pulses make your body quiver with pleasure.
“O-oh, god, that feels so good…. I’m gonna…gonna…”
“Let it out, I’ve got you.”
The encouragement from Nero is all you need to let go, a wave of pleasure taking over all of your senses. Your legs shake around Nero and a sound you’ve never heard from yourself before fills the room. Fuelled by your reactions, Nero chases after his own high, fucking into you passionately. Sweat dripping down his face, he looks down at you with an adoring smile before his eyes squeeze shut, followed by a series of whimpers and curses. Your walls milk him free of every drop of seed, the feeling overwhelming for him. You stare up at him in awe, your vision going in and out from your own orgasm.
His thrusts slow to a stop, allowing him to collapse on you. Both of you lay there panting, the heat of your bodies almost overbearing. You run your hand up and down Nero’s back, soothing him through the end of his orgasm. Eventually, Nero lifts his head and gives you a weak kiss, bumping his nose to yours.
“You did great, y/n. Seriously, that was….”
“Amazing.”, you finish for him, a giggle following it.
“Yeah, that.”
Nero pushes himself up and out of you, rolling onto his back beside you. He reaches over and pulls you into his arms, stationing you to lay on his chest. You can hear his heart thumping strongly, beating a lullaby to you.
“Get some rest, beautiful. You’ve earned it after that.”
You start to protest sleep but a yawn betrays you, realizing how warm and safe you feel in Nero’s arms. As minutes pass, your eyes grow heavier and soon close for the night, your breathing deep and slow. Nero’s hands tangle in the strands of your hair, twirling them mindlessly until sleep triumphs over him as well.
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mammss · 3 months
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plug!mammon headcanons
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a/n: let me just put this out there that I haven't played obey me in so long and I've fallen out of the fandom tbh. But was reading plug!eren fics for whatever reason and wanted to write something for this page...
fluff, discusses drugs and substance use
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plug!mammon who got the idea of dealing from the casinos he frequents, in a dark shady vip area he witnessed all sorts of substances being used and sold well for one being the avatar of greed he heard how much these little baggies go for and two had some connections on how to start said business so the man was already set.
plug!mammon who’s largest clientele base is at RAD why you may ask well he started making a quick buck off of students who wanted a way to destress and since there's no rules on dealing on school grounds mammon ran with it, later he got his fanclub to do the fine tuning after getting a shit ton of messages asking to buy. While mammon is the face of the operation his fans take care of distribution, payments etc all this man has to do is sit pretty and watch the cash flow come in
plug!mammon who at first glance is the definition of logo mania. This man can never leave the house without showing off where he’s buying his clothes in some way. And it doesn't help to see this man with copious amounts of shopping bags decorating his arms from said stores. 
plug!mammon when meeting you for the first time couldn’t trust you for shit as he thought you’d snitch to lucifer or diavolo so he made sure to have his goons keep a close eye on you and make sure you stay away from anyone who could unintentionally rat him out.
plug!mammon who after getting to know you more especially after your pact didn’t want you to know what he does not out of fear of getting caught but because he cared about you in some confusing way and wanted you to keep your innocence but that didn’t last long tbh you know this man is stupid affectionately and can’t cover up his tracks
plug!mammon after coming clean revels in the fact that you’re amazed he somehow started an empire and loyal clientele. You ask so many questions practically idoling the man he cant help himself but brag and gloat about how people fear him and need him all at the same time.
plug!mammon who will never let you come along on his deliveries now I know I said he doesn’t take part in the distribution but for the people who been day one’s demons known to have fat fucking wallets he makes the trips out himself, its just to create a long lasting relationship but these people don’t fuck around and the last thing mammon needs happening is you being caught up in business since his brothers nor anyone else in his life don’t really know about this he can’t protect you properly if something goes south.
plug!mammon who overtime confesses his feelings for you by taking you out on the fanciest “date” he told you it was to celebrate how much money he made for the year and spoils you to no end, he picked out an outfit for you with the help of his personal shoppers, got you a limo filled with fine alcohol and smells oddly familiar of mammons cologne.
plug!mammon who after making it official with you is obsessed with you, he is thinking of you when he’s dealing, counting money, with his friends etc. He refuses to keep you out of his mind and when he’s with you??? Oh it doesn't get any better always in your bubble one way or another this man GETS his way. Little miss princess
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