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#this is a running joke between me and cal
neuvifuri · 1 year
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whenever signora and dottore used to argue, signora would finish it by saying “at least i graduated” and dottore would fly into a rage and wreck his lab and kill his lab assistants every time
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bloodmoonmuses · 2 months
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translation: i love you. | mark lee
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genre: mark lee x reader, college au (not that important for the context tbh), friends to lovers, fluff, drabble (900 words)
summary: your friends referred to you as the mark lee interpreter. you weren't sure why, but you understood him- even the words he didn't say.
warnings: none!
To many, you were known as the Mark Lee Interpreter. Such was usually said in jest, but you couldn’t help the pride that swelled in your chest when the moniker was bestowed upon you. Sure, the guy rambles a bit, but if you listen- really listen- he has quite a beautiful outlook on the world. 
You and Mark usually conversed in motion. You’ve divulged your deepest secrets to him while on aimless walks. You’ve cracked your wisest jokes to one another while biking. You’ve had entire conversations through your eyes while dancing in grimy bars.
Now was no different, though a more chill variation. It’s Spring, so the two of you are taking a stroll in between classes. The sun knocks the chill off an otherwise too-chilly day, its rays falling on your face like a smattering of kisses. Spring isn’t in its picturesque stage quite yet. The stasis of winter still lingers, trees barren and skies grayish amidst the light that peeks through the cloud coverage. It’s calming.
There’s a creek that runs through the center of campus, a little bridge arching over the widest part. This is where you stood now, watching the water trickle over stones. 
“I think about rocks a lot,” Mark says out of nowhere. (Translation: Nature is so beautiful- even the most mundane and minute aspects of it. Even the parts that people forget. I think about forgotten things a lot, like rocks.) You believe it. Mark thinks a lot about a lot of things.
“They’re, like, soooo varied. Y’know?”
You do know. Large rocks. Mountainous rocks. Boulders. Stones. Pebbles. There are many types of rocks. “The ones in the creek look super smooth. It’s… hypnotizing.” Mark speaks as though he’s constantly in amazement, or on the brink of an epiphany. He’s the embodiment of potential, of the hypothetical, of what could be. You think a lot about what you and Mark could be. 
Of the many possibilities, you conclude that as long as some form of togetherness is involved, you’d be anything for him.
“I think about water a lot,” you respond. 
“What’s your favorite kind of water?” (Translation: Indulge me. How intently do you think about the minutiae of the world? Are you as crazy about water as I am about rocks?)
“Hm,” you say. “Good question. No one’s ever asked me that.” You assume he’s asking you to identify a particular body of water as your favorite. A memory comes to mind. 
It was the summer after freshman year. You and Mark went to the beach everyday together.  You think of the chilly water that rolled over your toes in the waking moments of dawn. You think of how beautiful the sunrise looked reflected on the ocean. You think of Mark waking up with you, despite not being a morning person. That wasn’t your favorite type of water, no. You specifically liked the sea water that danced on the ends of Mark’s hair. The drops that traveled down the follicle, forming shimmering beads, and dripped onto the sand below. You made a game of watching and counting them that summer. (The highest you got was 47.) 
You’re not sure how to consolidate this memory into a sentence that doesn’t sound absolutely insane. You decide to omit the thought entirely. A conversation for a different day, you suppose. 
“The ocean. Cliche, I know,” you say. Mark nods to himself, then hums.
The creek beneath you harmonizes with Mark’s humming. He begins walking again, taking your hand in his. This wasn’t too out of the ordinary for your friendship, but it makes your heart do this twisty thing you can’t quite place. It was the one action of his you couldn’t interpret. Mark doesn’t make a big deal about it, nor does he discuss the matter afterwards. It was almost like he was entitled to your hand, clasping his calloused fingers around yours without a second thought.
You’ve never actually looked at your intertwined hands before. The first time he grabbed it (during one of those days on the beach), Mark acted so nonchalant. You figured the gesture didn’t mean much to him. You were scared that, if provided with a visual, you’d never stop thinking about his stupid hands. 
This time, you allow yourself a peek. The cuff of Mark’s jacket hangs over his fingers, and he squeezes your hand when he realizes you’re looking. (Translation: You’re finally acknowledging this. Are you here? Can you feel me?) 
Your hand is getting sweaty. You pull away to wipe it on your jeans.
Mark can’t believe you’re nervous right now. You’re never nervous around him. The two of you have become accustomed to the wordless ease of your relationship.
Mark’s eyeing you again. You pretend you can’t see him in your peripheral vision. It doesn’t work. “Nervous?”
“Not even a little bit,” you say defiantly. You snatch his hand back into yours as if to prove your point. However, this only does the opposite as you begin to literally tremble.
“You’re so funny,” says Mark, running his thumb over the back of your hand. He slowly lifts your hand to his mouth, but he doesn’t kiss it. He simply presses your knuckles to his lips, maintaining eye contact while he does so. Your breath hitches.
“Mark-” is all you manage to say. You can’t meet his eyes, so you look at your conjoined hands as they swing between the two of you. Elation radiates off Mark’s skin. He’s grinning from ear to ear.
“Your hand is so warm,” Mark says. (Translation: I love you.) 
a/n: feedback is always appreciated! thanks for reading!
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Laundry Day (Cal Kestis x reader)
Summary: Cal can’t always control when his psychometric powers grant him a glimpse of the past. And even less so when the object holds a powerful emotional echo.
Or: Cal picks up the shirt you masturbated in.
Warnings: NSFW 18+ MINORS DNI; afab!reader but no pronouns used; no use of y/n; porn with some plot; hints of voyeurism if you squint; sub!Cal if you squint; first kiss; first time; hand job; masturbation; if I missed anything please let me know!
A/N: This is shameless and self-indulgent and hastily written before the motivation left. I will not apologize.
Word Count: 2,205
Read it here on AO3!
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NSFW below the cut!
You clench your jaw, the damp fabric of your shirt caught between your teeth as you struggle to keep quiet. But gods your fingers feel so good circling your clit and you’re absolutely soaked right now and you have to be quiet because Cal is sleeping in the room across the hall.
The thought of Cal overhearing your late-night activities makes your pussy clench around nothing. Eyes falling shut, you gather some more wetness and press more firmly on that bundle of nerves that has you on fire. Images of Cal’s toned forearms, freckled face, powerful thighs flash through your mind. You stifle a groan.
This is so bad, and you know it. You shouldn’t be getting off to the thought of your friend—never mind the fact that he’s a Jedi. But even when he’s only hidden behind a few thin durasteel walls, he occupies your mind. The way his eyes dance with fiery determination when a new opportunity to strike against the Empire arises. The way his plush lips curve up into sarcastic smiles at your jokes. His tenderness with BD. His softness with you.
And that’s what gets you all riled up in the first place: it’s just how genuinely good Cal Kestis is. There’s not a mean bone in his body. He takes care of you, and you of him, and the domesticity of it all drives you absolutely insane.
Which leads you here. You finally plunge two of your fingers into your tight, wet heat, imagining—wishing—it was Cal’s fingers instead. Exhaling a shaky breath, you crook your fingers up against the spongy wall of your cunt and press. Your hips rock involuntarily, and the added friction against your clit has your toes curling. You breathe deep through your nose, loosening your muscles as the wave of pleasure zinging through you crests.
And you cum, teeth unlatching from your shirt as you gasp out Cal’s name.
Once the aftershocks die down, you shuck the shirt off over your head, the neckline entirely damp with your now-cooling saliva. The temperature is uncomfy; you snatch a clean shirt from beneath your bunk to wear instead. Tossing the soiled shirt toward your growing laundry pile, you settle down under the covers at last, curling on your side as sleep finally, finally takes you.
The next morning when you wake, the comforting hum of the hyperdrive engine is silent. You must’ve arrived at your next destination while you slept. Good. Even though it’s only been you and Cal for about a year now, you still try to keep some extra supplies on board in case any of the old crew decide to rejoin you and Cal. And after your last run-in with the Empire, forcing you into hiding for a standard month, all of your supplies are low. You’ll use this opportunity to restock.
But first, you need to wash up. The lights on both Cal’s door and the ’fresher are green, meaning he’s probably up in the cockpit with BD. Slipping into the ’fresher, you lock the door behind you and turn the knob to heat the water up. Your sleep clothes crumple to the floor as you shuffle out of them, trying to focus on creating a mental list of the supplies you’ll need to pick up today. Yet, your traitorous mind keeps drifting back to your solo fun last night—heat throbbing between your legs at just the thought of how hard you came—and you shake your head angrily at yourself.
“Get a grip,” you grumble.
As if summoned by your thoughts, there’s a knock at the door. You jump. Your heart hammers in your throat.
“Kriff, Cal, you scared me,” you call through the door.
“Sorry,” he calls back, and you hear the genuine regret in his voice. “I just wanted to check to see if you had any laundry? It’ll be a bit before we’re able to get it done after today.”
“Good thinking,” you say. “There’s a pile on my floor. I can get it, though; don’t worry about my stuff.”
He doesn’t respond, and you visualize the sardonic, two-fingered salute he’s recently gotten in the habit of giving. A smile quirks your lips.
A smile that is quickly obliterated as a jolt of pure anxiety bursts through you. Gods, knowing Cal, he’s already gone to grab your dirty laundry, and the shirt—the fucking shirt—is right on top, and you know he can’t always control his psycho-Force-whateveritscalled powers.
The ’fresher door slams open and you dash across the narrow hall to your room.
To your horror, Cal is in fact there, gathering your clothes from the floor, and the warning to wait gets choked in your throat as he grabs the shirt on the top of the pile, the one that’s surely still damp with your spit and sweat.
His entire body stiffens, eyes widening, his grip on the other clothes going limp as he experiences the Force echo you’ve left behind. Feeling like you’ve been doused in gasoline and ice at the same time, it finally registers for you that you’re naked in front of Cal fucking Kestis and he’s feeling you cum to the thought of him.
“Cal, I—”
“Oh.” The strangled moan that tears from his throat has your mind reeling, never in a million years imagining that you’d ever hear him make such a lewd noise, let alone in reaction to you.
You reach for him, placing a shaking hand on his arm. “Are- Are you okay?”
He blinks and seems to physically re-enter this current moment. His cheeks are bright pink, his chest heaving. At his wide-eyed once over of your naked form, your knees nearly give out.
“I’m so sorry,” you continue. Panic seizes at your lungs, making it hard to breathe. “I shouldn’t have- I should have- I’m so so sorry, Cal, I can leave if you want—”
“Hey.” He rests both of his large, warm hands on your bare shoulders, forcing you to look him in the eye. “Deep breaths. I’m not- I’m not mad.”
“You’re not?” You try to catch your breath, but the darkening of his green eyes has your breath catching for an entirely different reason now.
He shakes his head. “How long?”
Chewing at the inside of your cheek nervously, you drop your gaze. “Months. Since we first met.”
Gently, he guides your chin up so that you meet his gaze again. His eyes are soft—darker than usual, yes—but there’s that familiar softness to them that unwinds some of the tension in your chest. He holds your gaze long enough for your heart to stop pounding, but you can’t will away the swirling pit of regret pulling at your insides. He’s not mad, which is great, but he’s still not said anything and you can’t figure out what he might say or what he’s feeling or—
“Can I kiss you?”
You blink dumbly. “What?”
A faint smile ghosts over his features. “Can I kiss you?”
“Oh gods yes,” you squeak out.
A true smile tugs at his lips, and then slowly, giving you ample time to change your mind and pull away, he leans down, one hand supporting the back of your head, the other cupping your cheek. Your eyes close and you stand on your toes, meeting him halfway.
His lips are as soft as you imagined, and you can’t help the needy whine that escapes you as he pulls you flush against him. Your bare, heated skin presses against the leather of his chest piece, tantalizing against the sensitive skin of your breasts. Snaking one hand up into his silken hair, your other grips at his muscled bicep, grounding yourself. His mouth moves slowly against your own.
This is really fucking happening.
He breaks the kiss, but doesn’t go far, resting his forehead against your own. You peer up through your eyelashes at him.
“I take it you feel the same?” you ask, breathless.
“Since we met,” he affirms in a low tone. His thumb brushes over your bottom lip, and you catch the digit between your teeth and suck. He groans. “Gods, if I’d known...”
You just hum, swirling your tongue around his thumb until he withdraws, only to kiss you again. Electricity feels like it dances along your skin where he touches you. Blindly, you tug him backwards with you until your legs hit the bunk. Lowering yourself, he follows, bracing himself over you with his forearms to either side of your head, caging you in. With a soft moan, you hook a leg over his hips and drag him down to you. The friction of his clothes against your aching core makes you hiss.
“Fuck, take these off, please,” you plead, tugging with weak fingers at his shirt.
He sits up just long enough to rip the offending garments off, and you practically drool at the sight of his toned chest as it is revealed to you. Scars litter the otherwise smooth alabaster, and you know you’ll take your time at a later date tracing them, committing them to memory. Right now, though, your attention is drawn farther down as he shimmies out of his pants. His hard cock, the tip a gorgeous shade of pink, bobs as it comes free of its confines.
“Oh gods,” you groan. “May I?”
“Please.”
You’ve never heard his voice so strained before, and you are nothing if not eager to continue drawing sounds from him. Wrapping your fingers tentatively around the hot shaft of his dick, you hum in delight at the way he twitches in your grip. You slowly work his cock, eyes trained on his face, catching every flutter of his eyelashes, every time he bites his lip, every miniscule reaction you can possibly gain from him.
“I want you inside me,” you say.
He groans. “I- I’ve never—”
“It’s alright,” you soothe. You release him for a moment to gather some of the slick from between your folds—and can’t resist rubbing your pussy for just a few seconds, letting a broken moan fall from your lips. Then you use the slick to lube his dick up.
“C’mere,” you say, your legs widening for him to slot in between. “I’ve got you. Say the word and it all stops.”
“I want this,” he says, eyes trained on yours as he settles himself between your thighs. “I want you.”
You hum in delight and, guiding him, line his cock up with your neglected entrance. Wrapping your legs around him, you press down with your heels to push him into you.
His head falls to your shoulder with a broken, gasping moan. You clench at the burning stretch of him filling you, nails digging into his smooth skin. He’s not even touched you, barely begun to fuck you, and you’re already ready to cum.
“Cal,” you murmur, caressing his back, “you okay?”
“S’alot,” he mumbles against your skin. “Can I—?”
“Yes, please.” You press a kiss to his shoulder. “Make love to me, Cal.”
With a whine, he slowly withdraws, every ridge and vein of his cock dragging deliciously on your walls, and then pushes back into you just as slowly. You moan with him at the sensation of filling and being filled, unsure where you begin and he ends, lost in the feeling of just him. He sets a languid pace, kissing your neck, murmuring sweet words in your ear: “You feel so good. Take me so well. Fuck, I needed this. Needed you.”
When he adjusts his grip on you, reaching beneath your body to support your hips, you laugh breathlessly.
“Gonna cum like this.”
He bites down on the sensitive juncture between your neck and shoulder as he snaps his hips against yours, making you cry out. The agonizingly slow pull out, the moment’s pause where only his tip remains in your dripping pussy, and then the overwhelming burst of pleasure as he slams back into you: it’s all you know. It’s all you’ve ever known, all you ever will know. You babble praises, begging, pleading with him, the coil in your belly growing tighter and hotter the harder he fucks into you.
“Can feel you’re close,” he slurs. “Cum for me. Please.”
That’s what does it, hearing him beg for you to cum on him. You go rigid, white flashing in your eyes as the tight coil snaps. Pleasure floods through you, and dimly you’re aware of Cal growling against your ear as he rocks you through it, his promises of cumming in you only serving to draw out the shockwaves of your orgasm. You think you scream. And then, when you feel his dick pulse as he goes absolutely still, you cum again.
He’s laughing when you come down from your high. He remains in you even as he begins to go soft, his giddy, breathless giggles pure music to your ears.
“What’s so funny?” you ask, twirling a strand of his hair between your fingers.
“I just— this is not how I expected today to go,” he says, still laughing.
You smile. “Maybe you should do the laundry more often, hm?”
He just kisses you, and you’re content with that answer.
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dollfaceksj · 6 months
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CAL part 2 when???
here u go bby…
remember: CAL will get updates every friday, saturday and sunday. might not always be that consistent but ill try my best!
can’t afford love | myg (m) #2
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“would you be willing to give him a sibling?”
yoongi nearly chokes on his own saliva
he wipes his mouth with the used napkin before looking back at you. “what?”
you lean back in your chair and throw your leg over the other, crossing your arms over your chest
“i’m asking if you’d be willing t–”
“i heard you.”
you tilt your head to the side, watching as he continues to stare at you
trying to make sure whether you’re joking or not
“let me get this straight right now,” he says as he leans forwards. “are you actually asking me to knock you up?”
well… if he says it like that you might forget abt the baby and just want him up in ur guts
WHAT ARE U SAYING?
be serious.
“well, you said whatever jun wants, jun gets.” you glance at jun. “and he wants someone that he can play with that’ll love him unconditionally and that he can love unconditionally.”
yoongi’s brows knit together, eyes studying you closely whilst you stare at jun. you continue, “he tries his best to fit in so he’s really attached to his friends at daycare. you know what happened during his birth.”
at this, yoongi winces. he remembers the complications of your pregnancy with jun very clearly.
“and you know it was originally our plan to have two kids. we were always of the opinion that we wanted 2 kids that could have each other and be there for each other.” you let out a breath cause it just seemed like you were holding it the entire time (you were). “and it’d just be easier to have kids by the same man, married or not.”
you finally make eye contact with him
and he’s still staring
straight at you
like you’re crazy.
“you realize what you’re asking of me, right?”
you roll your eyes. “obviously i know what i’m asking. you can be as involved as you want, i’m doing this for jun.”
“don’t say it like that,” he snaps. “saying you’re doing this for jun as if i wouldn’t run around the perimeter of the earth until the skin on my feet fell off for him.”
you squint your eyes at him and just as you’re about to respond, he continues;
“and i can’t just be super involved with jun and not with the new baby. that’s fucked up,” he says as he shakes his head
he’s right, you suppose
he’s very right
“let me–” he sighs as he rubs his face. “let me just think about it.”
you nod your head slowly. “of course,” you say. “just let me know beforehand. if you agree, great. if not, i can ask someone else.” you rise to your feet and start gathering the dirty dishes
“what?” he asks, a twitch in his brows
you glance up at him as you stand up. “what?”
he frowns. “who are you going to ask?”
you shrug your shoulders. “jimin or seokjin or something.” you start heading into the kitchen. “or maybe find someone on reddit or whatever.”
both jimin and seokjin are your college friends, mutual friends of you and yoongi
he quickly gets up and follows you, taking the dirty plates out of your hands. “you’re not going to ask them.” he puts the plates in the sinks and turns to you. “they wouldn’t do that, they’re not… father material.”
ugh. look at him trying to find a reason to voice why he doesn’t think you asking your friends is a good idea without just being honest about why he wouldn’t like it
you tilt your head to the side. “why not? i’ve asked them before in a hypothetical sense and they weren’t opposed to it.”
at this, his frown deepens
he closes the distance between you two almost instantly. he says, “i’ll do it, there’s no need to ask anyone else.”
ugh
you have to fight the urge to roll your eyes
what the hell is his deal?
right girl… pretend like you’re not enjoying this
you shake your head and cross your arms over your chest. “i don’t need you to do it just to spite me, yoongi. fucking grow up,” you mumble as you turn to walk back to the table
but he stops you in your tracks by grabbing you by the bicep
“it’s not to spite you, it’s for jun and the new baby. you’re right, we agreed on 2 kids and it’s best for them to share both parents. i’ll do it.” he lets go of your bicep after he’s seemingly convinced you to stay where you are
ohhh
now he wants to come around
you idly blink at him for a few moments. “i want you to do it because you want to do it, not because–”
“i want to.” he takes a slep closer, now menacingly looming over you. “i want to do whatever it takes.”
when you think he’s convincing enough, he adds, “you want me to put a baby in you? i’ll put a fucking baby in you.”
oh
right. 😂😂😂
😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 okay….
your throat is tightening and your chest stutters with the way your heart feels like it’ll jump out of your body.
he’s staring down at you with such venom in his eyes that it almost stings you
“i’ll give you a whole goddamn soccer team if you need me to.” his eyes continue to stare you down. “if that’s what i need to do to make jun happy, i’ll do it.”
you blink at him, his warm breath fanning over your face. “okay,” you try to say confidently but it comes out a whisper
“how are we gonna go about it?” he quietly asks as he takes a small step back to end the proximity between you two
UGHHHH
here comes the part that you dread the most
you blink at him and your cheeks heat up. “i don’t expect you to go jack off in some random clinic, yoongi. just… in the traditional way.”
“that���s not what i meant,” he mumbles as he crosses his arms over his chest, ears a soft shade of red. “i meant when. where?”
“here. i’m ovulating this weekend.”
he coughs at the new information. damn. he’s supposed to fuck you this weekend already?
he starts nodding his head. “what about jun?”
“i’ll drop him off at my mom’s.”
he stares at you for a moment longer. “you’ve planned this out.”
“clearly.” you brush past him and gather more of the dirty dishes
he silently watches you, clearly still thinking about the crazy thing he just agreed to
you abruptly turn to him. “and listen here,” you say as you walk up to him, closing the distance and pressing an accusatory finger into his chest until he winces
“no foreplay. no kissing. no sweet talking. no aftercare.”
this might hurt him more than the finger pressing into him
because yoongi loves all of those things
yoongi loves foreplay. loves kissing. loves praising. loves to take care after
he frowns at you for a few moments. “no foreplay? how do you expect to ha–”
“i’ll make sure to be prepared by the time you arrive. don’t you worry about that.” you turn on your heels and gather the remaining dirty plates and utensils before putting them in the sink and drowning them in water
he quietly sighs. “so, that’s it? i come by every few weeks to fuck you and we don’t even communicate?”
ohhhh
NOW he wants to care about that?
you bitterly laugh. “oh, you mean like our shitty marriage the last 6 months leading up to our divorce?”
you can tell he didn’t like that by the way his nostrils flare and a muscle in his jaw tenses
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this one stings
his face turns into a scowl. “don’t put everything on me. that’s not fair.”
you shrug your shoulders. “just tellin’ it how it is.” you brush past him to head into the living room, seeing jun still playing with his new toy
yoongi follows you out, shoving his hands in his pockets. “you know you’re being unfair. it’s why you’re walking away from me.”
“honestly, yoongi,” you say as you turn to him. “kiss my ass.”
you then turn to pick jun up off the floor. “you need to go to sleep, baby, it’s getting late.”
you hold jun in your arms and surprisingly he’s not protesting
he holds out his grabby hands at his father and yoongi takes him right away
he says bye to him, cuddling and poking jun until he’s shaking from laughter
you take him back and head into jun’s room, changing his clothes and tucking him into bed
you kiss his small forehead and turn the lights off, leaving his nightlamp on before heading into your own room
you strip, reaching for the bathrobe
“is that why you wore my favorite dress?”
you squeal at the sudden voice coming from the entrance of your room as you turn around, hugging the bathrobe to hide your exposed body
your eyes meet yoongi’s, who is leaning against the doorframe with his hands buried in his pockets
“what the fuck are you doing here? i thought you’d already left,” you mumble as you quickly scramble to put the bathrobe on and tie the rope around your waist
“relax. nothing i haven’t seen before.” he starts walking further into your room, closing the distance between you two
and each step he takes makes your heart beat of your damn chest
get your shit together !!!
“i don’t care! you can’t just–”
“and why not?” he finally stops walking when he’s right in front of you, half an arms length away from you. “you’re asking me to fuck you but i can’t see you in your underwear? how backwards is that?”
you angrily frown up at him. “i didn’t consent to you seeing me like this, at this moment.”
he blinks a few times and then tilts his head to the side. “you’re right. sorry. won’t happen again.” he looks around the room before back to you. “all i wanted to do was ask when you expect me to come.”
huh?
what is he even
???
your brow pinch together in confusion and the back of your neck heats up. “uhh…” you blink a few times, wondering if you heard him correctly. “when you’re inside of me..?”
girl..
he idly blinks at you with a soft frown on his brows. his eyes pingpong between yours from left to right, dropping to your lips for a moment before back into your eyes.
his tongue darts out to wet his lips before he speaks again and says, “i was talking about when you expect me to arrive… this weekend. what day. what time.”
oh
OH
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😂😂😂😂😂😂😂 right!
dumb bitch😭
“oh,” you mumble, heat rising to your cheeks and ears, a slight twitch in your lips. “uh, saturday… saturday at 8pm is fine.”
his tongue peeks out and swipes along his lips again as he stares you down before nodding. “okay. i’ll see you then.”
“yeah,” you reply, voice higher pitched than usual
heart beating a thousand miles a minute
“see you, y/n.” the way your name rolls off his tongue so deliciously whilst he’s still in your proximity, feline eyes staring you down, it all sets your entire body on fire
he looks at you for a moment longer before turning around and heading down the corridor before you hear him shove his feet into his shoes and leave your apartment
ahhhh
your heart won’t stop beating out of your chest
your palms are sweaty
your entire body is on fire
fuck
is this really a good idea?
to be continued.
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riya-kaur · 6 months
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calum thomas hood
cw: soft/fluffy calum!
kiss me.
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"you look so beautiful right now"
your eyebrows knitted together as you looked down at yourself, "cal, baby, i'm just in a towel" you giggle, raising your head back up, watching as he approaches you from outside the bathroom door, with a smirk plastered on his lips.
he hums as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest. you let your hands rest on his tattooed biceps before looking up into his eyes.
"kiss me then" you giggle as notice calum's brown eyes flicker between your eyes and lips.
"don't have to tell me twice, love" he mumbles before placing his lips on mine, lingering a slow yet teasing kiss.
he smiles against your lips before running his tongue against your bottom lip. you part your lips slightly, allowing his tongue access, but he pulls back, looking down at you.
"what's wrong?" you ask, letting your hands travel up to his cheeks, cupping both sides. "nothing" he hums. "everything is perfect, love" he smiles.
he bends down slightly, letting his hand fall to the back of your thighs, lifting you up on to the bathroom counter. he inserts himself in between your legs.
"i got so fucking lucky" he coos as he tucks a strand of your hair behind you ear. you look down at your lap as you feel your cheeks turn to a deep red color.
"no baby, look at me" his voice is soft as he hooks a finger under your chin, lifting your face back to where it was.
"my beautiful baby" calum coos as he lets his lips fall to your collarbone purposely as he knows that's your weak spot. his hands rest on your thighs, squeezing them with every kiss you lays on you.
he raises his head once he hears a small moan exit your mouth. he places his lips back onto yours, this time more hungrier. he pulls you closer with every kiss, one of his hands on the back of your neck, helping you keep your balance as the two of you made out heavily.
you eventually pull yourself back for air, your lips still grazed as the two of you rest your foreheads on one another.
"you make me feel like a teenage boy again" calum chuckles as he hides his face in your neck, placing small kisses in the crook of your neck.
"mhm i''ve never noticed" you joke before placing a kiss to his head. you feel calum let out a small laugh against your skin.
"i should let you get dressed" calum frowns as he pulls away from you, he let's his eyes glance over your body one last time before slowly backing away. "you're so cute" you giggle as you shake your head.
"that i am" he winks from the bathroom door frame. you blow him a kiss before he pretended to catch it, "don't take too long, i miss you already" he frowns before leaving from the door frame.
you chuckle to yourself as you grab the outfit you laid on the counter, which you set there before your shower. you quickly changed into the outfit, which simply consisted of one of calum's graphic tees.
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after changing, you made your way into your shared bedroom. you notice calum and duke spread across the bed, calum tugging lightly on the toy duke held in his mouth.
you watch and giggle at the two of them before walking around to your side of the bed, slipping under the duvet.
duke, instantly acknowledging you, came running over to you, his tail wagging whilst his tongue extended to your face, licking your chin.
"momma's boy," calum sighed as he observed the two of you, resting his back against the headboard.
you giggle at calums remark before peppering kisses all over duke's face, "hi baby" you coo, finishing with a kiss to his nose.
you place duke beside you as you snuggle into calum's side. you let your hand run up and down his bare chest.
"miss me" you ask, looking up at him through your eyelashes. "always do" he smiles, placing a kiss on your head
"nice t-shirt baby" calum points out. "thank you, it's my boyfriend, he's into his fashion" you joke. calum hums in response, "what else is he into?" calum asks, playing along.
"me" you wink, you observe calum holding in a laugh, "okay, that was good" he grins you look up at calum, giving him a lazy smile before letting your head nuzzle into his chest.
"ï'm tired" you announce. "can you sing me a song to fall asleep to?" you ask with a cheeky smile plastered on your lips, batting your eyelashes at him.
"always, my love" he coos as he wrapped his arms around you, rubbing the small of your back softly.
he starts singing the first verse of 'gotta get out' looking down at you, his lips in a smile as he sings to you.
you watch the words flow out his mouth as you dart your eyes between his mouth and his eyes, as he did in the bathroom before. you hear calum chuckling, making you come out of your trance,
"go on then, kiss me"
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a/n: this is a reupload from my old account! ♡
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fortheloveofbuddie · 26 days
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WIP Wednesday ✨
Look at me posting two days in a row 🔥 This is another bit of the insomnia fic that I wanted to share with you guys 🤭
Read the previous snippet(s) here 💕 They aren’t in order or anything, I’m just sharing what feels right 🫶
Every night since then, he had laid awake, staring at the ceiling, feeling as if the walls of the well were collapsing all around him again.
He tries to tell himself that it doesn’t matter, that he’ll be able to shake it off eventually. And he has to be strong for Christopher right now, so he doesn’t have time to be feeling like this. In the past week, he had maybe gotten a total of 12 hours of sleep, if even that, unable to find rest in his body.
At work, life goes on as usual, with everyone cracking jokes and teasing each other to no end. It’s like what happened to him didn’t actually happen. Or well, they all express concern for him and he says that he’s fine. Because he is fine. He didn’t get injured and he didn’t die, which makes him perfectly fine. Buck has been over a few times during the week, eating dinner with him and Christopher, clearly more worried than the rest of the crew. Eddie had noticed the crease between Buck’s brows deepening when he explained what had happened with Christopher. It wasn’t new that Christopher got nightmares, not after Shannon and the tsunami but it had gotten better. Right up until Eddie almost died in a fucking well.
As he puts Christopher to bed, he considers asking if he can lay in the bed with him but then stops himself. He doesn’t want Christopher to think that something is wrong. Eddie is well aware of how he wakes up during the night, beads of sweat running down his forehead and his shirt clinging to his back, his mouth dry and his breath heaving as he looks around the darkness of his bedroom.
Instead, he settles for laying down on the couch, the tv muted as he finds some random show to watch.
The flickering on the screen seems to ease his mind, keeping the empty abyss of the well away. For the first time since it happened, he is able to fall asleep within minutes but it’s a restless sleep and he wakes up with a gasp, suddenly alone in the darkness again. He clutches onto his shirt, air struggling to make its way into his lungs as he scrambles for his phone, needing just a hint of light. The heavy thud of his phone landing on the floor next to him reverberates in his head and he can’t focus, can’t remember what he was doing as he crawls onto the floor, hands scrambling in the dark.
They start to feel cold, tingling and almost numb. Eddie knocks his head back against the couch, trying to ground himself.
I’m not down there anymore.
I’m at home.
I’m safe.
I made it.
Tagged by @bidisasterbuckdiaz @tizniz @bucksbignaturals @cal-daisies-and-briars @daffi-990 and @diazsdimples 🥰
Tagging!! @honestlydarkprincess @steadfastsaturnsrings @wikiangela @theotherbuckley @thewolvesof1998 @wildlife4life @butraura @puppyboybuckley @evanbegins @monsterrae1 @hippolotamus @spotsandsocks @namjroon @nmcggg @jesuisici33 @slightlyobsessedwitheverything @devirnis @bucksbirthmark @rogerzsteven @giddyupbuck @eddiebabygirldiaz @exhuastedpigeon @kaseysgirl86-blog @poughkeepsies @watchyourbuck @dangerpronebuddie @elvensorceress @jeeyuns 🦋🩵
Tagged for reader @coatedpanda16 ✨
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bratzforchris · 3 months
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hi!! could you do a lazy morning sex after a long night of fun with soft dom! calum x reader with some dirty talk and thigh riding and some fluffy aftercare!! love your writing smm💕
Softie
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*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚
Summary: Above :)
Pairing: Calum x feminine!reader
Warnings: Smut, fingering (f), thigh riding, hickeys, dirty talk
Word Count: 715
A/N: Thank you for the request! I know it's pretty short, but ya girl is most well-versed in Luke smut ;)
*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚
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You rolled over as sunlight streamed through the thin linen drapes of your and Calum’s bedroom. Your lover still snored softly beside you, tangled in the fluffy, white blankets. Shivering, you huddled your naked body closer to the covers, cheeks reddening as memories of last night flooded your brain. You and Calum had gone out for a date, only to leave early and come back home. You’d spent the night engaging in a sinful amount of delicious sex. In the bathroom, in the kitchen, on the couch, and in your bedroom. You’d both been extremely horny, and that made the dynamic between you two insanely fun. 
You laid your head on Calum’s strong, muscled chest, listening to the soft rise and fall of his breaths. You almost always woke up earlier than him, and today was no exception. Finally, after a long fifteen minutes, Calum began to stir, yawning softly and pulling you into him. 
“Good morning, baby.” he whispered in his husky morning voice. 
You blushed, kissing his cheek and feeling the soft stubble against your lips. “Morning, Cal.”
“You sleep well?” he asked, kissing and suckling softly down your neck. 
You bit your lip, fighting a moan. Your body was still so achy from last night’s activities, but Cal’s lips on your skin was like fire, igniting a twisting ball of heat in your tummy. “Mmmm, baby.”
Calum chuckled, running a hand along your smooth thigh. “You just can’t get enough of me, can you? Little slut.” he joked. 
Your boyfriend had always been in a softer dom in that sense. He never pushed you too hard physically, nor was he overly degrading. Sometimes, like now, he just poked fun at you a bit. Calum suddenly rolled you over so that you were on top of him. Just the friction of his skin against your own was enough to make you whimper, subtle grinding yourself against his thigh.
“Gonna ride my thigh, baby?” he chuckled, trailing his fingers across your skin and inching them ever closer to your clit. 
Your thighs were already slick from being so turned on, and you ground against Calum’s leg as he ran a finger across your slit. You could tell that he was teasing you, making you think he was going to touch your most sensitive spot, only for him to hum and touch you somewhere else. You whined, gripping Calum’s shoulders and practically panting. 
“Baby, I haven’t even touched your clit yet and you’re already about to cum?” Calum kissed you deeply, tugging on your hair. 
Finally, he began to rub slow circles on your most sensitive spot with one hand, while slowly pumping a finger in and out of you. You could feel an orgasm building from the stimulation from his penetration and fingering, combined with riding your boyfriend’s thigh. One by one, he added two more fingers, increasing the severity with which he fingered you. By now, he was speeding up rubbing your clit, and your body was already shaking with impending orgasm. 
“Ugh, Cal,” You whimpered. “Need to…I need to.”
“Need to, what? Use your words, baby girl.” Calum hummed. 
“I need to cum.” You whined, tears pricking your eyes as your and his bodies moved in sync. 
It seemed like your boyfriend was ignoring you, as he just continued to edge you, making your body vibrate with white-hot need. Finally, Calum spoke, chuckling a bit. 
“Go ahead, baby. Cum all over my fingers.” he said as you continued to ride your thigh. 
You immediately let go as Calum asked, whimpering as your walls clenched around his fingers. You moaned loudly, your orgasm taking over you. You practically collapsed against his chest, panting heavily from the force. 
“You liked that?” Cal asked with a smirk. 
You nodded, cuddling into his chest as you caught your breathing. Your body was so worn out between last night and this morning that your muscles were beyond sore. But it was so, so worth it. 
“Based on the way you finger fucked me, I don’t know how you’re considered a soft dom.” You whined jokingly after a few moments. 
Calum kissed your forehead, smiling a bit. “Oh baby, that was soft.”
And in that moment, you knew just how much you adored this relationship between you two.  
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motherofdogs1010 · 4 months
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Need to Know II (Peter Parker x Reader)
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Summary: When she was ready to get back out on the dating scene after dumping a certain Winter Soldier, Y/N was a woman ready to get back out there. She just never expected to find herself in a relationship with a certain nerdy spider. Warnings: Reader is basically Penelope Garcia, toxic ex! Bucky, fratboy!Peter, older woman/younger man, age gap relationship, mentions of ageism, eventual pregnancy Dividers by @firefly-graphics Banner by @vase-of-lilies
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Part I
Present Day
To say that Y/N ever thought she'd be in a relationship with someone younger than her, she would be lying if she said she did. She had never expected to find herself in a relationship where she was the older one, but here she was, laying on her Cal King bed as she watched Peter type away on his computer, writing a paper for one of his robotics classes.
Peter let out a frustrated groan before closing his laptop and falling down beside her, Y/N looked at him with a amused look on his face.
"This professor makes me regret going to college", Peter groaned, Y/N chuckled.
"You're just overthinking yourself", Y/N said as she scratched his head. "You'll do great, remember, it's your last year."
"Between school and being Spider-man, sometimes I feel burnt out", Peter said.
"You'll do great", Y/N repeated as Peter practically purred at the head scratches. “Once you’re done, you’ll be able to work with Tony like he promised and you won’t be so stressed out juggling everything.”
"How did you even become a technical analyst for the Avengers anyways? It's kinda random because you popped up out of nowhere."
"I hacked into the government's system and got on their watchlist, which led me to eventually hacking into FRIDAY for fun one day."
Peter looked at her and she shrugged but it was the truth; hacking and such had always been her thing and eventually led to her being sought out by Tony himself after she may have hacked into his system for shits and giggles.
"Well, that explains everything", Peter said, "can you hack into my professor's computer?"
"I could, but it'd ruin the pardon Tony got me", Y/N pouted, "but for you, I'd risk it."
She leaned over to Peter and planted a kiss on his lips, and Peter chuckled at her comment.
"Alright, maybe let's not send you to federal prison", Peter joked, "but you wanna go down to Delmar's and get sandwiches?"
Y/N nodded, "I just have to shower first."
As she begun to get up from the bed, she looked at Peter and said, "Wanna come shower with me?"
"Babe, if I ever say no, take me to Bruce because there's something clearly wrong with me."
With a giggle, Peter chased her to the bathroom.
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After a steamy shower session that lasted longer than it probably should have, Peter was taking a quick call from his best friend, Ned, who had been accepted and was attending MIT before they left to Delmar's. Y/N decided to wait in the kitchen, walking in to see Wanda and Vision making brownies.
"Hey guys", Y/N said as she sat down at one of the kitchen island chairs.
"Oh hey Y/N", Wanda smiled as she mixed the batter.
"Hello Y/N", Vision greeted as he watched Wanda mix the batter.
"Venturing Vision's culinary skills to baking?" Y/N asked, Vision nodded and Wanda laughed.
"Where are you off to?" Wanda teased, "Peter whisking you away somewhere?"
So far, a majority of the Avengers seemed to be alright with her relationship with Peter, ignoring the age gap between the two of them.
Well, nearly all of them...
"We're going to Delmar's", Y/N replied back.
"Oh! Bring me back a sandwich", Wanda chimed.
"Will do", Y/N said, "hey, where is everyone?"
"Steve and Sam went on another run, Nat and Clint are on a quick recon mission", Vision replied.
The sound of shrill laughter boomed into their ears and Y/N saw Wanda wince and shake her head at the noise while she was mouthing 'wow' to herself.
Y/N knew who that laughter belonged to and she couldn't help, but want to laugh at it all.
"Oh, Y/N, I didn't think you'd be here."
Looking over her shoulder, Y/N raised a brow to the person who spoke in a condescending tone.
Dot or Dottie as she heard Bucky call the blonde haired woman stood in the entrance of kitchen, popping a piece of bubblegum loudly while her phone was in her hand. If Y/N was being honest, her relationship with Bucky had been on the rocks for a while before Dot, but Dot was the final nail in the coffin to end her relationship.
And at one point, Y/N would have felt some form of bitterness towards Dot's presence, but now, she felt nothing but annoyance at the woman's persistent need to try and one up for some reason or another.
"Why wouldn't I be here? I live here", Y/N replied in a confused tone.
"I figured you'd be... rocking the cradle and all", Dot said with a smirk.
Y/N wanted to groan at the jab towards her relationship with Peter, it was Dot's biggest thing to constantly bring up.
"It's robbing the cradle", Peter interjected as he walked into the kitchen. "Not that it applies to us
Peter walked over to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders before pressing a kiss to her temple. Y/N noticed Dot's eyes hyper-fixated on Peter as Peter greeted Wanda and Vision but Y/N knew that were Dot was, Bucky was soon following and Y/N was not in the mood for dealing with the man.
"Ready, babe?" Peter asked as Y/n saw Vision look at the brownie batter.
"Yup", Y/n said as she slid out of the chair.
"Aren't you a little too old to be wearing that?" Dot asked, Y/N frowned.
Her and Dot were the same age and Y/n wore a yellow sundress since it was humid this time of year in New York. Y/N raised a eyebrow at Dot and glanced at Wanda, who rolled her eyes at Dot's comment.
"Nope", Y/n said, looking at the dress. "But you might wanna apply that logic to yourself, Dottie. We're the same age after all."
Dot frowned as Y/n got up from her seat, feeling Peter wrap an arm around her waist as he began to led them away fro the kitchen.
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Y/N looked at Peter amused as he told her about his squished sandwich theory, a smile on her face as he explained that it made the sandwich taste better. Wanda had happily taken her sandwich, running away to continue watch Modern Family in her and Vision's room.
That left her and Peter in the living room, watching Ahsoka on Disney+.
"Man, I want to buy her lightsaber", Peter whined, "it looks so cool."
"It's a nice lightsaber", she agreed with a chuckle. "Personally, I want Darth Maul's."
"That's a huge one", Peter said, "they literally have to assemble it in parts."
"But imagine how intimidating it would be", she argued.
"Now what are you two lovebirds talking about", Tony chimed as he walked in.
"Lightsabers", Peter answered with a grin.
Tony and Peter began talking about some upgrades for his suit when her phone vibrated, she grasped it from under her and saw it was a text from Bucky. She wished she could block him, but since he was a member of the Avengers, she couldn't since she was a asset for them.
Opening the text, she frowned as a slew of texts began coming in.
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She rolled her eyes and put her phone away from her as she hit 'DO NOT DISTURB'. She wasn't sure why Bucky had been like this, sending texts like this but she hoped he got the message soon as Tony said he was leaving to take Pepper on a date, allowing them to go back to their show.
Y/N relaxed back into Peter's embrace, laying her head on his shoulder without a care. She felt happy, even if she hadn't expected it to be with someone younger than her as Peter kissed the top of her head before she connected their lips together.
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It was their monthly Avengers get-together over at the Compound, everyone dressed in their nicest clothes as Tony held a nice fancy dinner. Y/N wore a backless cocktail dress that she had a hard time convincing Peter he could not mess with until after the party was over, although, she had a hard time keeping herself from Peter with his rolled up sleeves that showcased his arms.
Right now, they were all scattered around the room; Nat was working the bar for some reason or another.
"Hey there Tech Queen", Nat said as Y/N approached her. "Where's your other half?"
"Talking science with Strange and Tony", she shrugged with a grin. "Not sure if I trust you behind the bar, Nat. You make the drinks as strong as Asgardian liquor."
Nat laughed just as Steve walked up to them, he kissed the side of Nat's head.
"What are you two laughing about?" he asked.
"Nat's bartending", Y/N answered, Steve winced.
"Yeah, maybe let's not", Steve said, Nat laughed and waved him off.
Y/N looked around to see Carol engaged in some form of arm wrestle with Thor, Sam watching the two, Wanda was conversing with Pepper, Peter still with Strange and Tony, and Bruce and Rhodey talking.
She wasn't sure where Vision was, knowing him he was probably phasing through some walls or something.
"Here, drink this", Nat said with a grin.
"Oh no", Y/N said with a smile. "I don't trust you with making drinks. Last time I had one, I--"
"Yeah, Y/N, do tell us what happened last time you had one."
Her mood was killed, instantly as she noticed Bucky had arrived. Her face said it all as Nat frowned at the man, she noticed even Steve frowning.
"Did this conversation involve you?" Y/N sassily said with a raised brow. "I believe this was a A,B, and C conversation."
"Oh, I was just wondering if the last time Nat made you a drink, you maybe did some things that you regret… or someone.”
"No, no regrets here", Y/N said as she looked at her nails.
Bucky was beginning to look like he had sucked on a lemon by his facial expression just as she felt a pair of arms around her, looking over her shoulder to see Peter.
"Mr. Barnes", Peter cooly said.
"Parker", Bucky gritted.
Y/N saw Nat taking a amused slip of her drink.
"Dateless tonight?" Peter asked with a smirk.
"Just for tonight", Bucky grumbled.
"Huh, how... unfortunate for you", Peter said with false sympathy. "If you don't mind, well, I know you won't."
Peter gestured for them to leave a fuming Bucky and a very amused Natasha to be dealt with by Steve.
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Later, Y/N wrapped her arms around Peter's neck and he pulled her closer to her; Peter began to sway them with a grin on his face as she playfully shook her head at him, a grin making its way onto her face.
"Have I told you that you're pretty?" Peter asked.
"Not today, I don't think", she teased as Peter bumped their noses.
"What kind of boyfriend am I then?" Peter teased.
She felt happy with Peter, their relationship felt easy and uncomplicated as Peter connected their lips, squeezing her body a little as he tried to bring her in closer.
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wordsbyrian · 1 year
Text
Skater Girl - Alex Morgan x Reader
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Summary: Childhood friends almost always drift apart but sometimes they find their ways back together. This fic is set in between the 2015 WWC and the 2016 Olympics.
A/N: I was watching a documentary on my favorite skateboarder Andrew Reynolds in which he talked about his battle with addiction and this is what came of it.
Trigger warning: Heavy discussion of drug and alcohol abuse, jokes about sobriety
For as long as you can remember Alex Morgan has been your best friend.
Just like any pair of childhood friends worth their salt, the two of you knew everything about one another.
At least you did from the ages of 3 to 14.
But like all great childhood friendships, you started to drift apart in high school. She had started playing club soccer and was quickly becoming the face of the varsity soccer team and you found that you had more fun hanging out with the skateboarders and stoners than waiting for her to be able to make time for you.
So while she was busy becoming an all-American and a top college prospect, you were rounding up amateur sponsorships for companies like Blind and Independent Trucks.
Then when she was running all over people at Cal, you were dropping out of the photography program at UCLA because you were going pro and collecting sponsors like a child on Halloween.
Overall, you hadn’t spoken to her in nearly 10 years, which is why you’re so shocked to see her standing over you as you lay at the bottom of one of the largest hills in LA, cracked helmet still on your head.
“Oh my god, are you ok,” she asks, bending over to try and look you in the eyes.
“Alex,” you say, still somewhat out of it. “What are you doing here?”
It takes her a moment, but as you sit up and take off your helmet, you can see the realization bloom in her eyes.
“Y/N/N,” she asks, getting a nod in response. “Are you ok, I saw you smash your head into the ground.”
As you go to answer you begin to hear the shouts of the crew you’re filming with as they finally make their way to the bottom of the hill.
“Trips, dude, we thought you just died,” Jay, one of your best friends, shouts as he gets close enough, “Who’s this?”
“This is Alex, my childhood best friend and world-champion soccer player,” you say, “Also, clearly not dead, the brain bucket saved me. Go get the car, I’m ready to call it a day, I’ve got road rash on my entire back.”
Watching for a moment as he runs back to the rest of your friends, you turn back to Alex still staring at you with wide eyes.
“I’m sorry you had to watch me slam like that, you used to hate that.”
“Just found out that I still do, that was one of the scariest things I’ve ever seen,” she says, helping you to your feet, “Your body flew through the air.”
Grimacing a little at the feeling of your shirt against the raw skin on your back, you pick your board up and say, “I’m fine I promise, nothing that a shower, Neosporin, and some sleep can’t fix.”
The two of you stare at each other silently for a few moments and you can feel all the things you felt for her growing up come flooding back.
Fortunately, the sound of Jay laying on the horn of your car breaks you free of the hold she’s always seemed to have on you.
“I, uh, I’ve gotta go,” you say, jerking a thumb over your shoulder.
As you start backing away she reaches out and grabs your wrist.
“Meet me at our spot tomorrow,” Alex says hopefully, “3 p.m?”
“I can do that.”
She smiles before letting you go and walking back to what you can only assume is her car.
Making your way to your ride, you aren’t surprised when the second you climb in you’re greeted by the cacophonous noise of all your friends asking you what just happened.
“Don’t worry about it.”
The next day finds you rolling up to the far back corner of your childhood park where you and Alex would go when you simultaneously needed escapes from your homes.
You hear Alex before you see her, her raspy voice ringing out, “You still bring that thing everywhere you, huh?”
“In all fairness, I get paid to bring it everywhere now,” you say, taking a seat next to her.
“You went pro? I remember that being all you talked about in middle school.”
“Sophomore year of college,” you say with a grin, “I signed like three pro sponsorships in a week and dropped out of UCLA, it was barely two months into the school year.”
“That’s awesome, I’m happy it worked out for you.”
“Forget me, Lex, you’ve got an Olympic gold and World Cup,” you practically shout at her, watching as a blush appears on her cheeks.
“It wasn’t just me, it was a team effort.”
“Whatever bro, I saw that goal you scored in Manchester against Canada and the one against Colombia at the World Cup.”
“Okay fine, some of it was me,” she laughs.
Then before you know it, the afternoon trails into the evening, and the two of you spend hours talking about everything that has happened since you graduated high school.
But the one thing you refuse to answer, no matter how much she asks, is how you’ve acquired the nickname Trips.
That is until Alex says something so shocking that you know you have to tell her the truth.
“You know we thought you were dead or in jail,” she says, voice becoming thick with emotion.
“What?”
“When you didn’t come back at Thanksgiving in 2008 and your parents refused to even be in the same room as anyone who mentioned you, we thought the worst,” she explains.
“Fuck,” you say, “Alex, you have to know that I never meant to put your family through that, I was just dealing with some things.”
“What could you possibly have been going through that you couldn’t call us? I was your best friend, we’d known each other our entire lives.”
“Alex, be serious, we haven’t been best friends since the summer before 9th grade and you know it.”
“Y/N/N,” she starts but you cut her off.
“It’s fine really, it happens, but I wasn’t going to just dump my problems on you after not being around. That would’ve made me a shitty person.”
“What problems were so big that you had to face them alone?”
“Addiction,” you say, turning to stare out at the park.
You can feel her staring at the side of your head in silence but you don’t give her a chance to say anything.
“I’m like 4 years clean now but I’ve been addicted to alcohol and other stuff since I was about 15. In high school, your dad once found me passed out in the driver’s seat of my car smelling like a distillery with puke down the front of my clothes,” you explain. “It got really bad after I went pro and I almost died before I got clean.” Taking a deep breath you continue, “That game against Canada at the Olympics was my second day in rehab, I was so sick with withdrawal symptoms but I remember watching the ball come off your head at the last minute.”
“Can you look at me please,” she says, voice shaking, “I need you to look at me.”
Turning your head, you’re somewhat surprised to see the sight of Alex Morgan with tears streaming down her face.
“I’m proud of you. I’m proud of you for getting clean, I’m happy you're alive and I’m sorry that you felt like you couldn’t come to me,” she says, tears flowing.
“Quit crying, you know I hate it when you cry,” you say, hoping that the reaction you used to have as a kid, would get her to smile like it used to.
It does and you get to watch as she smiles and wipes the tears from her face.
“Are you done now?”
“I’m done now,” she says with a laugh.
“Cool, your apology isn’t accepted by the way.”
“What? Why not?”
“Because you have nothing to be sorry for, bozo,” you say, “Both your parents and my parents tried to get me help while we were still in school and it didn’t work. So don’t try to apologize to me again, got it?”
“You’re still the nicest asshole I know,” she says, “who the fuck yells at a girl for crying?”
“An idiot whose nickname is based on her being a drug addict,” you guess.
That doesn’t get the laugh that you were hoping for but it’s enough to get you a small smile.
As the hours continue to pass, the conversation gets lighter as you reminisce about the crazy things you got up to as kids.
Eventually, you both have to leave but before you do Alex manages to secure a promise that you’ll attend her game in a couple of days with no new bumps, bruises, or scrapes.
So that’s exactly what you do.
That Saturday afternoon sees you walking down the steps in the stadium to your seat, which thanks to some magic pulled by Alex is so close that you feel like you’re on the field.
When you reach your seat you’re not completely surprised to see Alex’s parents and her sisters but they don’t seem surprised to see you.
“Y/N/N,” her mom asks in shock when she sees you coming down the row.
“Uh yeah,” you say, awkwardly scratching the back of your neck. “Hey Morgans.”
Before you have a moment to fully process what’s happening, you’re being pulled into a hug by Mr. Morgan and passed to each of the women in his family, but you end up back in his arms at the end.
“You have no idea how glad we are to see you,” he says.
“I think I might,” you reply. “Alex filled me in on what your worries were, they were pretty close up until a few years ago.”
That gets a few sad smiles out of the family which lets you know that Alex has filled them in on what you’ve been up to.
“That’s not funny, Y/N,” Mrs. Morgan says.
“It kind of is,” Jeni says, with Jeri nodding behind her.
“Jeri’s right,” you say, “Besides since I’m sober now, so you have to laugh at all my jokes about not being sober because I pulled myself together.”
“That’s not how it works, kid,” Mr. Morgan says.
“Welp it is now.”
It’s at that moment the teams begin walking out for the anthem and as though she could feel your eyes on her Alex immediately turns towards you, a grin appearing on her face as you lock eyes.
The first half of the game is fast and physical and you find yourself flinching every time Alex is taken down by a defender but just like when you were kids, she’s back on her feet before you can blink.
The half comes around and the US is up 2-0 but you still feel the need to get up and move around.
“Hey, I’m gonna get some tenders or something, does anyone want anything?”
“I’ll come with you,” Jeni says.
“Or you could tell me what you want,” you respond.
“I’m not making you buy me a beer.”
“I know that I’m not dressed like it right now but I can more than afford to buy you a 15-dollar beer,” you say before you understand why she’s protesting. “Fine, you can come with me but I’m still paying for it.”
When you get to the concession stand you ask her what kind of beer she wants but that isn’t what she’s focused on.
“When are you going to tell my sister that you’re in love with her?”
“I’m sorry, what?”
Rolling her eyes, she speaks slower like you are some kind of dumbass, “When are you going to tell Alex you’ve been in love with her since forever?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say, moving forward with the line.
“And I’m Elvis Presley,” Jeni sighs and runs a hand down her face.
From there the conversation switches to how you're doing with skateboarding and your sobriety, so you promise to show her some of the clips you’ve put together for your next video part.
That’s why it’s so surprising when the first thing out of her mouth when you get back to your seats is: “Mom, Dad, how long have Alex and Y/N been in love with each other?”
You’re even more surprised when neither of the elder Morgans looks up from their phones before answering: “Forever.”
“And how long have they both been acting like they're not?”
“Since at least the 7th grade, maybe earlier,” Jeri says.
“Can I just eat my tenders in peace,” you beg, not wanting them to notice the blush rapidly spreading from your cheeks to your ears.
Luckily, before anyone can respond the teams are trotting back out for the second half.
Unfortunately, the other team is much more physical in the second half, so you have to watch with bated breath as Alex gets taken down twice as much as she did in the first without any fouls being called.
Every time she hits the ground you wince a little bit harder, much to the amusement of both her sisters.
Then, there’s a corner in the 88th minute and you get to watch, in what feels like slow motion, as Alex gets her head to the ball and sends it into the back of the net.
“Fuck yeah, Alex,” you scream, leaping to your feet with the rest of the crowd.
You know she can’t hear you but the smile she sends in your direction makes it feel like she can.
Moments later, the match is over and after quickly shaking the hands of the opposing team and a short huddle, Alex is racing towards where you're sitting like she didn’t just play a full 90.
Much to your surprise, and her sisters’ enjoyment, she ignores the other Morgans completely to climb the barrier and pulls you into a hug.
“You came,” she whispers into your ear, trying to be heard over the nearby fans screaming her name.
“I did,” you respond. “You played amazing, that goal was magic.”
“Are you coming to dinner with us,” she asks, still not letting go.
“Yup, your parents have designated me as your chauffeur.”
She nods so you let her go, not at all shocked by the smile on her face as she greets her family.
It doesn’t last long though because one second Jeri is whispering in her ear and the next Alex is glaring back at her and dropping to the ground to join her teammates in greeting fans.
You and the Morgans stay for a bit watching her before making your way out of the stadium and to the parking lot. There you make promises to meet them at the restaurant, hauling Al along with you.
You don’t have to wait very long on your own in the lot, at least you don’t think you do but time does tend to get a bit weird when you’re practicing a new trick.
It's the sound of Alex’s voice yelling at you to do a kickflip that breaks your focus, (You do of course land a kickflip for her.)
“Not bad,” she says, reaching your car and throwing her stuff in the back before climbing in.
“I do aim to impress.”
The ride to the restaurant is calm, the only real noise being the sound of her playlist intermingling with the sound of LA traffic.
When you park and go to get out, you’re stopped by her relocking the doors.
You try to unlock them but she just locks them again, in a pattern that continues four times before you turn to look at her.
“Seriously Al?”
“I want to ask you something,” she says, “but you’ve spent the whole ride trying your hardest to ignore me.”
“I wasn’t ignoring.”
She cuts you off, “Yes you were. What did my sisters  say to you because I thought we were gonna try being friends again.”
“They didn’t say,” cut off again.
“Just tell me what they said.”
You take a moment to think about whether or not you should and the somewhat desperate look on her face leads you to tell her.
“They said that you’ve been in love with me since forever. Your parents did too but that’s not possible,” you tell her, “because I definitely would’ve noticed if you were. I mean I literally spent our entire childhoods trying to impress you so I think Jeni and Jeri were just messing with me like they used to because you’re way too awesome to have ever been in love..”
You're cut off again but this time by the feeling of Alex grabbing you by the back of the neck and pressing her lips to yours.
Before you can fully process what’s happening, she’s pulling away which is the opposite of what you want so you pull her back in so your lips meet again.
The second kiss is much longer than the first but before you can deepen it she pulls back.
“I am in love with you,” she says, slightly breathless, “and I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember.”
You smile so widely that to an outsider it might’ve looked painful, “That’s awesome but there’s no way you’ve loved me longer than I’ve loved you.”
“Whatever Y/N/N,” she kisses you again, a slight peck this time, “let’s head inside before my parents start freaking out.”
She unlocks the car doors and gets out, stopping briefly to make sure you’re following her.
And you are, just like you did when you were kids and just as you will be for the rest of your lives.
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epicbuddieficrecs · 6 months
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Weekly Recap | October 30th-November 5th 2023
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I really need to get back into the habit of making these every Sunday! But at least this time I didn't skip a week! :P
Complete
stickwitu. by brewrosemilk/ @gayhoediaz (Canon Divergent, PWP | 38K | Explicit): “Did you just call me daddy?" Or: Three times Buck fights his daddy kink + the one time it slips out anyway. (sequel to 🔥 stupid people.)
mona lisa by roseapothecarys/ @gaylicense (PWP | 5K | Explicit): or: eddie makes buck's dreams come true
hits like ecstasy by roseapothecarys / @gaylicense (PWP, Getting Together | 4K | Explicit): or: eddie starts complimenting buck...a lot. surely he has no ulterior motive.
this time between by roseapothecarys / @gaylicense (Getting Together | 3K | Explicit): or: buck and eddie get trapped in an elevator
tender we fall by roseapothecarys/ @gaylicense (Post-Shooting | 4K | Teen): Or: Buck starts telling Eddie he loves him. Like, all the time.
one hundred ninety seven seconds by roseapothecarys/ @gaylicense (Post-Coma | 2K | Teen): Eddie is finding increasingly convoluted excuses to be in the kitchen late at night. or: in the aftermath of the lightning strike, eddie copes.
what if one of these days i go and change your name by Iover_of_mine (I_almost_do) / @lover-of-mine (Post-S6, Established Buddie | 2K | General): Buck runs into a fire while off-duty, Eddie gives him his turnout once the 118 responds, then proceeded to spiral about how he wants to marry Buck.
kiss and make up by 42hrb/ @exhuastedpigeon (Getting Together | 3K | Explicit): Instead of being soft and sweet or adrenaline fueled and filled with love and thanks that they're both alive, their first kiss comes in the middle of a fight in Eddie’s living room.
blackout by rainbow_nerds/ @rainbow-nerdss (Getting Together | 3K | Explicit): Buck wakes up hungover on Eddie's couch, with no memory of the night before. Eddie's at just as much of a loss as he is, but their friends seem to know something they don't.
🔥 like a dog with a bird at your door by fleetinghearts/ @shitouttabuck (Post-S6, Getting Together | 51K | Explicit): or, evan “i love you like a dog” buckley has only ever known how to love like, well, a dog, but maybe eddie diaz is the kinda guy to give a flea-bitten mongrel a forever home
i want to scream "I love you" from the top of my lungs, but I'm afraid that someone else will hear me by scarcrossedbuck (cryptidNick) (Getting Together | 11K | Explicit): or: Buck drunk calls Eddie to confess his love anonymously. Eddie doesn't hear it. Buck struggles with his feelings.
there's always been a rainbow hangin' over your head by Underhung_Aura (Getting Together, Post-Lightning | 8K | General): Eddie comes out to Buck, receives a quirky mug, and gets together with the love of his life. In that order.
i'll come tackle the monsters by Iover_of_mine (I_almost_do)/ @lover-of-mine (Getting Together | 4K | Teen): Buck has a nightmare and they talk about the shooting.
Homefield Disadvantage by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Established Buddie | 2K | Teen): Buck is recovering from appendicitis. Christopher has an important school project. Eddie faces danger on the job. They are a family, your honor. That is all.
come close, let me be home by Daffi_990_ao3 / @daffi-990(Post-Season 6, Getting Together | 4K | Not Rated): Buck and Eddie slow dance at Maddie and Chim’s wedding
baby, say you'll always keep me by hattalove (Getting Together, Post-Season 4 | 8K | Teen): or the one in which joking about being married to your best friend is all fun and games, right up until you realize that you're not laughing.
WIP
🔥 and here, too, am i by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Future fic, Married Buddie | 1/3 | 11K | Teen): Six months into their marriage, Eddie is still struggling to decide whether or not he wants more kids, when he knows Buck does. The universe may not scream, but it certainly talks.
Innocence died screaming, honey, ask me I should know by JJK/ @trenchcoatsandtimetravel (Demon Buck, Canon Divergent | 6/? | 11K | Teen): Buck is a demon with the power to help with pregnancy, childbirth, and infant health. When the Buckleys make a deal asking for someone to help 'save their baby', Buck leaps at the chance as it will give him what he's always wanted: a life on earth. But demon deals are tricky and neither of them gets quite what they're after. This is Buck's journey as he navigates growing up on earth and remembering how to help those in need.
🔥 Things We're All Too Young to Know by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon, S1 through S6 | 97/? | 250K | Mature): This is a love story. Even if it doesn’t always look like it. Even if it doesn’t always feel like it. A look back on Eddie and Buck's lives up to now, and what led them to each other, interpreted from the current 9-1-1 canon.
Re-Read
growing sideways by roseapothecarys/ @gaylicense (Getting Together | 3K | General): or: chris gets buck a father's day present.
🔥 i don't swim and you're not in love by hattalove/ @hattalove (S4, Post-Buck Begins | 32K | Teen): or, eddie cooks, chris domesticates a slug, and buck tries to figure out why he hates his best friend's girlfriend. to everyone's immense shock and surprise, it goes badly.
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finniestoncrane · 1 year
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Indulgences
BTAA!Scarecrow x Female!Reader, word count: 4k commission: jonathan crane and secretary!reader give in to their mutual desires, which reader needs to be encouraged to partake in 🎃🧡 commission me here! request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: daddy kink, oral sex, rough sex, persistent behaviour
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At least I don’t have to walk through any alleys. At least I get to stick to the busier streets, the nicer neighbourhoods. There’s an artisanal coffee shop on the way, not many people can say that. It’s fine, this is luck. You’re lucky to have this job. You’re lucky to have any job, really. But this one is perfect. It’s fine. You can do it. He doesn’t have any power over you. He’s your employer. He’s your boss. Yeah, he’s Jonathan Crane, but that doesn’t automatically give him a one-up. He likes you just as much as… it doesn’t matter. What matters is that you will not give in to this temptation.
Each morning, as you took the short trip to work from your apartment, you had to give yourself a pep talk. A reminder that this was worth it, in the long run. That you would be foolish, and quite frankly almost ignorant, to give up the comfort you managed to find, in Gotham of all places, because of some uncontrolled emotions. You had a job that provided enough money for you to afford a nice apartment in a nice area, that challenged you, but not too much, and brought you a genuine sense of value and worth. But it did mean you were exposed, almost daily, to the difficult charms of Jonathan Crane.
Working with Jonathan was a blessing and a curse. The security of employment with a reputable, at least society facing, psychologist was something that was rare in Gotham. Add to that the element of safety in being employed by one of the city’s more venerable and amicable villains, there was limited risk of being caught in the crossfire, unlike the employees of Sionis or Cobblepot. And he clearly trusted you, as he hadn’t been shy in telling you of his criminal escapades, his alter ego as The Scarecrow. In fact, you’d only been working with him for a month before he took you into his office and revealed the secret.
You supposed for someone like Jonathan, if he’d sensed even the slightest hint that you might not be one to trust, he would just have you killed. You’d thought as much at the time, as you stood, heart racing, swallowing your fear in your closed throat, sweat beading on your forehead. But the fear you had shown, it seemed to comfort him. Very on brand for that strange, yet deeply interesting, man.
Realising how silly you sounded, as you tried to quantify all of the thoughts in your mind, you stopped on the street corner across from the building which housed his office. You liked him. You really liked him. But it felt like a risk, or a mistake. Something about it seemed to suggest to you that it would only end in tears, or worse, in your demise. And it was this contradiction, this predicament, which made it so difficult for you to show up to work each day. Only worsened by the fact that you had begun to suspect that Jonathan had similar feelings for you.
He had always been flirtatious, part of his charm you guessed. He was like that with everyone. Little jokes, a lingering touch on the arm or the lower back. He’d frighten people, speaking soft and low, making them get closer to him before giving them a little jolt of fear. It usually had them giggling, sweating, confused. On several occasions he’d pointed that out to you, the line between fear and arousal. It all had to do with adrenaline, he’d say. And he was very right about that.
As you entered the office, you took your place at the desk in the waiting room. Checking the calendar, you realised it would be another two hours before the first patient arrived for their appointment. That gave you plenty of time to get comfortable and settled. But just as you began to repeat your affirmations, taking your slow, long breaths in a bid to calm your body, Jonathan entered.
“Ah, you’ve here. Always there to brighten my morning, huh?”
“Jonathan, lovely to see you. I’ve left coffee on your desk.”
“Well, aren’t you just the sweetest. Why don’t you come in and join me?”
“Is that… mandatory? Or work-related?”
Jonathan offered you a wry smile as he looked you up and down, scrutinising you.
“Would that make a difference? C’mon, we’re all friends here, right?”
You swallowed your nerves at his wink, trying to maintain your composure, the control you still had over the situation.
“I suspect that this might be more than a friendly discussion, Crane.”
“Oh! I do love it when you’re feisty in the morning.”
He walked into his office, still speaking to you.
“If you feel like joining me, make sure to bring that snarky attitude with you. Drives me crazy.”
You scoffed and rolled your eyes, picking up a pen and twirling it as you absent-mindedly stared at the wall in front of you. With an irritated mumble, you got up form your desk and followed Jonathan into his office, standing against the closed door and staring at him with your arms folded.
“Well?”
“Well, what?”
“I’m here now, what do you want with me?”
Jonathan let out a dry chuckle, as his pupils widened, staring at you from his desk.
“Oh, bit of a dangerous question, don’t you think? I could do a lot of psychoanalysing on that. The phrasing, the way you’re standing, the words you chose, the slight implied innuendo despite your obvious attempts to seem uninterested. All of it, very telling indeed.”
“Do you think so?”
“I know so. Why don’t you take a seat?”
“I’d rather stand, thanks.”
“A contrarian, through and through.”
“I’m really not.”
He raised an eyebrow at you, smiling wide as you proved his point. It infuriated you to no end that despite as hard as you tried to gain the upper-hand, he was always one-step above you.
“Fine, I’ll take a seat.”
You chose the softer of the two armchairs that faced his desk, avoiding eye contact with him until it was impossible to ignore the silence any longer. When you looked up to him, he caught your eyes, staring into them intensely. His stare held you, it was almost hypnotic. He was a commanding presence in your life, and you hated that as much as you enjoyed it. In moments like these it was difficult not to give in to your temptations. To succumb to the harmless but persistent flirting. To accept that you had a crush. Maybe get it out of your system even. But you sensed that someone like Jonathan Crane wasn’t up for being quickly used and discarded. He had to conquer his love interests, and you were determined not to let that be the case, despite how he made your heart beat faster and your body tremble with just a few innocent enough words.
From the drawer on his side of the desk, Jonathan produced a folder marked confidential, with your name on a label on the top right hand corner. He thumbed through the pages in silence as you sat nervously. You wondered what it could be. A dossier of reasons that he wanted to kill you? Or reasons he wanted to sleep with you? It could have been anything with him, and the anticipation only served to help you conjure up more fanatical and nerve-wracking theories.
Reading from the pages, he made an occasional soft noise, a small ‘hm’ or an ‘ah’ as he took in the information. Eventually, you grew more irritated than you were nervous, and coughed, clearing your throat obviously in the hopes that he would get whatever he intended to do over with.
Without looking to you, eyes remaining on the pages as he scanned them from top to bottom, reading whatever words were so intensely interesting to him, he finally.
“So… would you like a performance review?”
“A... a performance review? Are you kidding me?”
“No, why would I be?”
“That’s what you called me in here for?”
Jon smiled wryly as he peered over the top of the folder he held in his hands.
“Partly. I thought it would be a good idea to kill two birds with one stone. I love that phrase, don’t you? Such violent imagery. It conjures up such a guttural feeling. So… connected to our ancestry, and yet the convenience of modern life is hinted at to-”
“Jonathan. I have a job to do.”
“Uh-huh, and who provides you with that employment?”
Leaning back in your chair in slight disbelief, you narrowed your eyes at him as you spoke.
“Are you threatening me, Mister Crane?”
“Not at all, sugar. I’m simply… reinforcing the status quo here. The hierarchy. The way that our… relationship works. You’re my employee, after all. And I’m your boss, correct?”
With a scrutinising glance you tried to figure out what he was getting at, but couldn’t make it past his cool exterior.
“As technical as you can get, yes.”
“And yet, we’re also friends, are we not?”
“I suppose so.”
Your heart fluttered at his words, feeling deeply complimented by the suggestion.
“You’re my employee, and my friend. But perhaps… maybe… I would like you to be a little more than that.”
“More…?”
“Oh, come on. As if you can’t see it, as if you don’t want the same things I do. As if we aren’t already something a little bit more than that.”
Trying to contain your smile, you feigned innocence, or ignorance, and looked up and to the right, as though you were trying to think of what he might be suggesting.
“Listen… we flirt. Constantly. I can see it, you can see it. Everyone can see it. I have clients who are so unaware that they don’t even recognise their mother is to blame for their issues, and even they can see it.”
“You talk about me with clients?”
“That’s besides the point. Look. We work great together.”
“Yes, in the same office.”
“Not like that, you know what I mean. You and I, we gel. We get on, we have a connection. I think we’d make an excellent pair, don’t you?”
Jonathan had stood up from his seat as he spoke, walking around the desk and stopping in front of it, where he leaned in repose on the surface when he had finished his argument in the little debate you two were caught up in.
“I want people to see us together, more obviously than they do now.”
“What do you mean?”
“I want them to see you with me. I want them to know who you’re with.”
You kept your face still, not wanting to give anything away, but desperately wanting to scream at the concept he was offering you. You didn’t want to be owned by Jonathan, you didn’t want to make a big thing out of whatever you two might have. It seemed that he wanted the opposite though, and admittedly, his determination to have you, to possess you, like a trophy he could show off, was deeply intriguing and more than a little arousing.
“In a sense that…”
“In a sense that they wouldn’t dare try anything with you, because they knew who you belonged to.”
Trying to maintain your air of composure, your dignity in the face of potential ownership, you tilted your head and stared him down with an unamused look.
“Belonged to? So I not only work for you, but I’d be your property too? Sounds… unpleasant actually, Jon.”
He stood up from the desk and moved closer to you, his stance commanding, charisma oozing from his very being, his voice trance-like as he spoke to you so directly and convincingly.
“Come on now. We’re both intelligent people. We both know what’s going on here, what’s going on between us. It would be so easy to just admit it and let it happen. I don’t have a human resources department, so there’s no one to get on our case. What is it that you’re so worried about? What makes you so hesitant?”
He had answered his own question, really. Jonathan was so deeply, intensely interested in you, in everyone. He could learn more about you from the way you lifted a coffee cup than most people could in a decade of spending time with you. You could only imagine what information he might glean from fucking you. And then where would you be? You’d be employed by a psychotic psychiatrist who knew everything about you, that’s where. Only in Gotham.
“Just let go. Let yourself give in to pleasure. I promise, I’ll make it worth the risk of this little dalliance.”
His smug grin, pressed into his cheeks so firmly that it accentuated the wrinkles around his eyes had your chest heaving as you breathed heavily. You weren’t sure how much more of this you could take. It was tempting, so tempting. And though you were reluctant to give in to the feelings you held for him, it was deeply flattering, and very encouraging, to see him outwardly express those same desires.
It couldn’t possibly be as bad as I think it will be. I want this. I need this, I think. It’s gone beyond just a silly workplace crush, with witty remarks and back and forth flirtatious teasing. This is… something deeper now. And the longer I hold off, the worse it’s going to get. Perhaps it would be better to just get this out of my system. Do it now and get it over with. And then I’ll-
You were pulled out of your thoughts, ruminations and worries swirling at the forefront of your mind, by the feeling of Jonathan’s lips on yours, his hands holding your upper arms to keep you steady. The grip, forceful but deeply romantic, held within it the exact amount of passion, it turned out, to have you falling into him. Melting into the embrace, you wrapped your arms around his, feeling your leg beginning to snake up the back of his pants. He gripped it, fingers digging into your thighs and bringing it higher, around his waist, as he stepped forward, pushing you, stumbling, back into the wall where he deepened the kiss.
Biting, licking, sucking at your lips, Jonathan moaned hungrily against you. You yelped as he bit a little too hard, and he pulled back quickly, soothing over your bottom lip with his thumb and offering an apologetic smile.
“I’ve wanted this for a while. You’ve held out on me. So I apologise if I’m a bit… rough.”
His eyes moved from yours and began mapping out your body, taking in every inch of you.
“It’s been very difficult to watch you, a free agent, outside of my will.”
You scoffed, but took a sharp inhale as he stared into your eyes again, smiling at you, wry and mischievous.
“You’re so dead set on not indulging me. Why is that?”
Trying to avoid his intense gaze, you turned your face, but with a soft motion he brought you back around with his palm on your cheek.
“Is it because you’re ashamed of how much you want that? It’s ok to want to be wanted. It’s completely normal to want to be owned. I should know, I’m a psychologist, remember.”
He let his fingers trace down your throat, following their trail with his tongue as he made his way down your front with kisses, planting them softly, his breath warm against you, as he got to his knees before you, resting his face against your abdomen as he ran his hands up and down your sides.
“Every curve.”
His hands pressed into you, grabbing and squeezing at your body, your waist, your hips. As he let them reach behind you, cupping your ass, you let out of a soft noise, which made him smile.
“Every moan.”
You giggled as he made his way back up your body, bringing his hands to your face, fingers skating over your lips, making you shiver at the touch.
“And indeed, every quiver. They belong to me. And only me. Understand?”
Completely entranced by the way he held you, you nodded slowly but with enthusiasm.
Smiling at you, a grin that made your blood run cold, he leaned in to whisper into your ear once more.
“Then would you kindly lay down on my desk, please. And remove all the clothes on your bottom half first.”
As you stepped past him, pulling at your clothes in a hurry to get them off, his palm caught your rear, smacking the cheek and bringing forth an amused yelp and giggle from you. It made your cheeks flush, the way you had reacted. You hated how much you liked it. And he could tell, as he watched you lean back on the desk, bottom half completely nude and exposed. Running his palms up your thighs, past your stomach and to your neck, he loosened a few of the buttons on your shirt and kissed at your neck again.
Distracted by his moans and ministrations against your sensitive skin, you hadn’t even noticed he had removed his own pants and underwear until he was pressing his cock inside of you. You moaned, letting your breath out in a slow exhale as you smiled, unable to stop yourself. It felt amazing, better than you could have imagined or hoped. And you’d spent a lot of time hoping and imagining, though you wouldn’t have admitted that to anyone, even under threat of Jonathan’s fear inducing drugs.
Jonathan, enthused and encouraged by your reaction to his cock twitching and throbbing within you, began to rock his hips, pressing himself into you further, picking up the pace and grunting with each movement. At the angle you sat at, legs hanging over the edge of the desk, perched on your rear alone, he gripped your hips, holding you steady so he could push up into you, hitting the right spots as he did so. Occasionally, past the panting and guttural groans, you could hear him laughing. He was so smug, so proud of himself. So happy to be claiming you. The thought drove you wild, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, bringing him even closer to you.
As Jonathan continued to fill you, pumping his substantial length inside of your cunt, pressing his tip as far as he could, he clutched at your back, holding you tight, close to him. In lustful desperation, you gripped his hair, drawing his mouth to your neck, begging him silently to ravish you, kiss you, bite you, suck you, whatever he was willing to do for you. And luckily, his participation extended to all three, as his teeth clenched softly on your neck, nipping at it before his tongue flitted over the stinging pain and soothed it, his lips enclosing around you, sucking at the sensitive skin.
“Ooh… Jonathan…”
“Sorry, was that too hard?”
The faux mocking tone sent a tingle down your spine, and you clung to him tighter out of instinct.
“Just… just a little bit…”
He leaned back for a second to offer you a sham pout followed by a cruel smirk.
“My most sincere apologies, I just wanted to make sure you were marked.”
Diving back into your neck, he bit harder this time, lips covering over the stinging pain in a smooth kiss.
“I can’t have any doubts as to who you belong to.”
His teeth marked your flesh, imprints of his bite pattern across your neck, soft ovals of burst blood vessels where had sucked on you, definitely leaving enough of a trace that it was impossible to deny that someone had claimed you. The notion of being entirely his was getting easier and easier to submit to with every passing second, and you could barely contain yourself. It didn’t surprise you at all when you started whispering to him, your own mouth ahead of your brain as you exposed your secrets and begged to be his.
“If you want me, Jonathan, then you can have me. Take me, fill me.”
With a struggled grunt he forced himself deeper, an action you would have thought impossible, and you could feel your abdomen tightening with the pressure of his cock buried so fully within you.
“I want you to make me yours, Jonathan. Mark me, inside and out.”
Jonathan’s breathing quickened, his pace getting faster and less steady as he rutted clumsily against you, hips jutting forth to meet yours as they rocked into his body. His grunting had been reduced to a whimper, almost a whine, as he clung to your skin, holding you as he used you, appreciated you.
“What do you want from me? Tell me. Don’t be shy.”
“I want you to cum inside of me. Paint my fucking insides, Jonathan. I want to be yours. Fill me, take me, just… please, god please don’t let me lose a single drop.”
With a guttural laugh and another quick bite at your collar bone, Jonathan’s body shuddered as he shifted you back and forth in time with his own thrusting, cock twitching as he felt himself coming undone. His seed spilled in thick, white ropes within your cunt, spent entirely within you and holding himself inside, pressed tight against you, to keep as much of him there as possible. He lingered for a few moments longer, enjoying the warmth, the possessiveness over you. His fingers tensed as they clung to your body. He didn’t want this moment to end, and neither did you.
Finally, pulling himself from within you with a low moan, he sat back down on his office chair, holding his slicked cock in his hands as he felt it softening, finally spent and relieved of the tension he had been holding back, that you both had been holding back. He panted slightly until he had caught his breath, his age showing in the way he braced himself, trying to recover from the shaking orgasm that had all but consumed him entirely.
“There… phew… no doubts now, huh?”
You were standing, trying to straighten your clothes out as best as you could, feeling his cum dribbling down your inner thigh and coating your panties. The sensation sent shivers down your spine, knowing you belonged to him, feeling like you were still marked as his territory, his possession, even after he was no longer holding you physically. You had to admit that it was divine, something you had craved before but never would have let yourself admit to.
“Doubts? About what?”
Jonathan leant his head back, groaning in mock frustration before he snapped back down, eyes focused on your body, his gaze drawing up over you and back down as he took you in, still flushed and sweating, marked by his teeth and his fingers.
“Oh, sugar. Don’t be obtuse. It’s no use, I know you’re a sharp girl.”
Playing up, just to irritate him, you stared blankly with a slight frown. You shrugged your shoulders lightly and shook your head a little.
“You wanted that. I wanted that. And I continue to want that. As, I expect, do you. I think we can both feel the tension around us, around the office. So let’s not beat around the bush here!”
He laughed as he spoke in a lilting cadence, trying to seem casual. But you could sense the desperation in his words. And you finally felt like you had the upper-hand.
“We’ll see, Jonathan.”
You walked towards the door, turning as you opened it and stepped back into the hallway.
“We’ll see.”
Leaving him alone in his office, you returned to your desk with a wide grin on your lips. Finally, you felt like you could let yourself indulge in your desires. But not before you teased Jonathan a little longer. He deserved it, after all. And you deserved to feel in control, after everything you put up with from him. A little bit of sweet and sour in your relationship wasn’t anything new, but the method in which it was employed, a change in pace and hierarchy, it made you feel excited to come into work tomorrow.
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enemiestoloversss · 1 year
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Jealous gaviii
Warnings:Smut,unprotected sex (and there are probably some grammar mistakes idk? English is not my first language sorry!)
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Y/N POV
It was 6:30pm.I was getting dressed up to attend a Barça event with my boyfriend.I finally managed to pick a right outfit to wear.It was a short strappy black dress and some black heels.I knew Pablo loved that dress, i wanted to tease him a little tonight.I applied some light eyeshadow and mascara to make my eye features stand out, and I applied some red lip gloss to my lips to make them shine.As I was getting ready my boyfriend Pablo was doing the same.Pablo could possibly be the best boyfriend on the earth ever.He was always so thoughtful and respectful even tho I have to admit we did break up a couple of times and we may had our differences in the past but we'd always run back to eachother.Pablo can be a very jealous type at some point but we'd always get over it.Forgive and forget. Jealous Pablo had always led to make up sex in wich I find incredibly hot in my opinion,it's just a big turn on.Sometimes jealous Pablo can get out of hand, but hey having Pablo is better than not Pablo am I right?;) Anyways I've always imagined a bright future with us,he's just so beautiful and pure and I know that we are going to be stuck with eachother for entirety.
"Y/N" Pablo called, "Are you ready bebé?"
I headed downstairs where he was waiting.
"Oh Y/N you look absolutely stunning baby" he smiled holding and giving you a kiss."Well you don't look so bad yourself" I winked and we chuckled. "Come on let's get going we are gonna be late" He took my hand we led me into his car.I couldn't deny how hot he looked tonight.Dont get me wrong he is always attractive but looking at him in the suit just makes me wanna do things to him.
Pablo's POV
As I was driving I took at small glance at Y/N and smiled to myself.How was she so perfect?How am I so lucky to have this women?She looks absolutely divine tonight.She's wearing that dress again, short black dress with the slit exposing her breasts.And her eyes twinkled exactly like the stars right now.I just wish at this moment I could just fuck her this instant.I won't be able to resist her.
Y/N POV
A cold breeze flew last in the air whilst the stars shine upon us as it glistens in the atmosphere Night falls is what we call it when we first met.It was just a beautiful sight to gaze at.I could be lost in this sight for hours.
20 minutes later we arrived.Most of the Barça players and their girlfriends were already there and I was thrilled.They were like a second family to me.Sira (Ferran's girlfriend) and Anna (Lewandowski's wife) were always so fan to talk to,Frankie and Ansu always Crack the best jokes and Pedri...well Pedri was like a big brother to me and that's what I loved about him.
Me and Pablo held hands as we entered the garden.It was decorated with shimmering lights surrounding us and the tables were set poshly and there in the background was relaxing music playing.
"Pablo!Y/N!You're finally here!" Sira exclaimed as she gave us a hug. "It's good to see you too Sira!" We then met up with the rest of the group and we were just telling stories and having fun.I was hanging around with the ladies whilst Pablo was with the men
"Sooo...Y/N" Sira started "How's you're sex life with Pablo?" My eyes widened and I almost chocked on my drink. Typical Sira TY-PI-CAL SIRA.... "Sira!What the hell!" She smirked as the rest of the girls laughed "Come on Y/N.The chemistry is real between you.Pablo is definitely the one you need to keep the hold of. Besides do you remember the time in the dressing room when I walked in on you and Pablo Fu-" "Alright Sira I think we have had enough from you today" I laughed. "But what about you and Pedri?" Anna said is there any tension between the pair of you.I mean I've seen Pedri has his eyes on you for a couple of months." "Wait what?Me and Pedri? I don't think so.Hes like a brother to me I'd think it'd be wrong if he had feelings for me that was more than that" "Aww this is sweet Y/N.This is one of the things I love about you"Anna said. "Aww thanks Anna" "I think dinners ready!Come on girls!" Sira said.
One hour after we ate it was slow dancing time.Pablo took my hand and led me to the dance floor.I gripped into him as he put his hand behind my back and his other hand holding mine.Being in his touch was like heaven, everything was just so right about him.His personality,his hair,his face, his scent, everything.i grabbed onto my boyfriends neck and started to pepper him with kisses to tease him from his cheek to his neck he quietly groaned "Oh Y/N do you have to do this now" he said and smiled than I took his lips and smashed them into mine."Bebe you drive me absolutely crazy" I giggled "I know." You both gazed at the sky."Night falls." You both said and looked at eachother and smiled.He gave you a peck on the head.From the other side of the garden I saw Pedri and he gave me a smile as I exchanged one back.Minutes later Pablo's phone rang "Hold on a sec bebe let me take this." He said and he kissed my cheek before he went inside.
I sat back down on the table and poured myself a drink and Pedro came up to me and held out his hand "Come on love let us have a dance." I didn't wanna be rude and reject him so I politely took his hand and took me to dance.His style of dancing may not be the same as Pablo's but it was still somewhat calming."Have I mentioned how ravishing you look tonight?"he smirked and kissed my hand."No you haven't but thank you." I blushed. "Than my apologies love,you look extremely extraordinary."I looked down at my toes for the compliments he gave me as as my cheeks changed with a tint of pink but he held up my chin "No need to be shy little one."he smiled.He held me close wich felt slightly odd for some reason but he was my friend so why would it be odd?
A few minutes later Pablo returned from his phone call and was standing there,staring at me and Pedri dancing.I caught him noticing and he stormed out. "Pablo!"I called and looked back at Pedri "I'm really sorry!" I left to catch up Pablo. "Pablo, where are you going?"
"What do you think I'm doing Y/N?going home"
"You can't!"
"Why not?"
"Pablo why are you doing this?"
"So you actually care for me?Why don't you ran back to Pedri you both seemed pretty comfortable there?"
"Oh, so this is what it's all about,me and Pedri? We were just dancing! It was nothing he was just trying to be polite!"I fired
"Polite?No Y/N he's jealous.Hes jealous that I have you.Pedri has always liked you how are you so fucking blind to see that?"
"Pablo, you have to grow up he's just a friend who wants to take care of me."
"Take care of you?That's my job!I'm your boyfriend and it's my fucking job to take care of you Y/N!" He spat.
"You know what Pablo?!You can shove your jealousy right up your Dick coz I'll just leave without you!"
This was the moment of realization.I didn't mean to say those words to him.I felt guilt rushing upon me.i could see the anger in his face.We may have had arguments before but I haven't seen him filled with this much anger and jealousy in a while.
"Get in the car now."
"Pablo I didn't mean to u jus-"
"NOW." He raged
I can tell that this wasn't going to end well.He's never raged at me like that before.Tears were starting to form and slip from my eyes but i tried to hold it.I noticed he started driving more faster than usual,was he really THAT angry?.We than arrived at the house and he practically dragged me to the bedroom and slammed my back down onto the mattress and he got on top of me.
"Why do you think I brought you back home to the bedroom Y/N?Huh?"
I stayed silent but he slapped my thigh
"I ASKED you a QUESTION!"
"B-because....because you though I was flirting with Pedri?"
"Sweetheart I didn't 'think' you were, I know you were.And how do you think it makes me feel?Seeing my girlfriend have another man flirt with her?"
"Angry and upset?" I almost whispered.
"You were a bad girl today.You know what bad girls get?Punishments."he whispered in my ear and send chills down my spine.
He started to undress me by taking off my dress exposing my naked body and my red lace panties I was wearing.
"Red lace panties huh?You know they are one of my favorites....You know I'd be jealous so I could just come here and fuck you. Or did you wear these for Pedri to fuck you?You fucking bitch!"
"No it's not like that-" SMACK. Another harsh slap to my thigh
"Did I say you could speak?I heard all about your talk with the ladies, about your and mine sex life.About the time Sira accidentally walked in on us having sex?You're such a whore Y/N. I bet you want me to fuck you in from of everyone to show who you belong to hm?If you're gonna act like a whore...I'm gonna fuck you like one"
I gulped.he started to undress himself by undoing his pants exposing his member.
"Look at you sweetheart.Gazing and craving for my dick to be inside of you, how pathetic"
Without hesitation he slid into your cunt and already started to thurst into you hard and rough. I screamed. His dick was pushing in and out of my throbbing pussy. It feels so good yet it hurts so bad.I moaned at the pain and pleasure and the noises filled the room."MM PABLO" I cried,he started going even more faster."yeah, that's it scream my name,scream the name you belong to" I felt my orgasm built up intense heat in my stomach, I need to cum. "PABLO PLEASE LET ME CUM!" "Hold on a few seconds bebe, I'm so close!" He pushed even harder as both of your moans and groans got louder. "Cum for me" he says rubbing my clit. I reached my orgasm and let it go. White,slimy liquid existing my cunt as Pablo did the same.We were both a panting mess.
He than pulled up and laid down next to me, i put my head on his chest.We were laying in the bed cussing another whilst he was fiddling with strands of my hair. "I bet Pedro couldn't fuck you like that" he chuckled. "Hmm, I don't know, we'll have to see..." I fought back jokingly to see his reaction and next thing I know he was pinning me down whilst being on top. "Ready for round two princess?" He smirked.
A/n: Feel free to send me more requests but please try to be specific ty🙏🏼
And before ya'll come for me bc of writing smut js know that I'm younger than Pablo😭
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eveenstar · 10 months
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Could I request a GN reader general like dating stuff with Cal Kestis? Sorry if you've already done it!
Have a good day!! <3
Cal Kestis!! Sure can! Hope these are enough ♡ I tried to zoom between Fallen Order and Survivor, but also post Survivor events, so watch out for spoilers!
Dating Cal Kestis | Headcanons
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->Cal and Obi-Wan are the definition of 'perfect boyfriend'. In fact, all the Jedi are jealous they can't be them. Have you seen those gorgeous ginger locks? Running your fingers through his hair while he rests his head on your chest after a hard mission... now that's the dream.
->Cal is dreamy, yes, but he also comes with a lot of packages. He doesn't talk about it, Cal avoids talking about anything remotely involving his past trauma when he's around you. If you ask, he'll joke around to try and get you to change the topic. Cal hates to admit it (even to himself) but he doesn't feel worthy of your love. Deep down he still blames himself for the death of his master, for Cere, for Cordova...and for not sensing Bode's betrayal. Cal would never forgive himself if something had happened to you.
->He's very attentive and always willing to slow down and listen to you vent. One of Cal's hands will rub your knee, sometimes holding your hand, kissing your knuckles to make you laugh. Cal will feel angry that someone has wronged you, he'd carry that burden for you if he could.
->don't blame him if he ever crosses paths with the person/people who did you wrong and goes a little to far
->Knows you can handle yourself in battle, but if you can't, he'll insist on training you, "c'mon, I'll go easy on you!" he'd sway you into it until you eventually give up.
->Cal is a little tease too. Will let down his hair stan long haired cal and wear one of those tight sweat shirts to show off his muscles, just because he knows that will throw you off during training. He'll laugh about it too! "Yeah? Are you gonna blame me for your lack of focus?" purposely to annoy you so you'll put him in his place. Knock him down, straddle him and bring his lightsaber dangerously close to his throat and that will 100% shut him up.
->not to get nfsw but definitely has a thing for you having the upper hand. Cal will blush and stare wide-eyed, but that cocky little grin never once leaves his face. Its just too much fun seeing you mad.
->LOVES pulling you under his poncho when he's wearing one. You two obviously don't fit in one together unless you're considerably smaller and then get absorbed in Cal's poncho. Definitely gets you a bunch of ponchos too, even shares his! Couple's that match together stay together.
->BD-1 is your child, I don't make the rules. He loves you nearly as much as Cal and lives to make your boyfriend jealous by snuggling closer to you at night.
->"I think you've stolen him from me." Cal jokes as BD-1 hops on your shoulder as you leave the ship. He has never seen his little buddy droid so trusting of someone that isn't Cal himself. Sure, BD-1 trusts Cere, Merrin and Greez, but not as much as he trusts you, so it must means you're special.
->of course you're special, Cal would think to himself, you made me fall for you.
->not overly touchy but loves to hold your hands in his, even does it unconsciously and especially in his sleep. Cal will seek you out to rest his chin on your shoulder or the top of your head, sometimes even wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you close. May or may not start pampering your skin with soft, little kisses all the way up to your jawline and if you don't stop then he'll take it a step further...have I said he's touch-starved? He is. Once he gets his hands on you, there's no prying him away.
->Keeps a little trinket that reminds him of you if you two have to be separated. Cal will look at it, play with it between his fingers, wishing it was you he was holding instead. Probably get you something like that too, I headcanon that it's a blue and red bracelet :)
->The incident with Dagan and then Bode's betrayal has taken a toll on Cal. You can see his struggle with the darkside, even during his sleep (or the few hours that he gets of rest) his face is closed up and his hands tighten around you, as if you were sand about to escape between his fingers. Saying he becomes more fearful and protective is an understatement - life becomes so much more real when you have someone to lose, and Cal has lost too many. To lose you would be to lose himself.
->The duel with Dagan nearly cost your life as the red blade nearly sliced you in half hadn't his own lightsaber blocked it in time. Dagan taunted Cal for his love for you and that was the first time you saw the darkness that lies behind his eyes. He almost cut off Dagan's head.
->Bode was his friend, and Cal trusted him, but he couldn't help but feel a little bit jealous when you two got a little bit too close, or when Bode's hand trailed down your arm, his smile growing just a bit. Cal would sulk for a while and his kisses and holding would become just a tad bit more hungry and possessive, as if he's trying to prove something.
->Don't worry, he'll calm down when you show your love for him. Run your fingers through his hair, pull him close to you, whisper sweet nothings to his ear until he's weak under your touch.
->He's not very experienced as to what he should call you, sure before you he had at least one other relationship (which was just a little teenage crush and barely lasted more than a few rotations). Nicknames such as love and baby suffice for him, but at one point in your relationship you both start a challenge as to who can find the most dumbass nicknames for each other, and Cal takes that to heart.
->Spoiler alert, Cal wins. Everyone in the ship is horrified at the nicknames he's calling you such as his "sweet pookie bogling" and winking at you, knowing how embarrassing it is. He's a dork, but a competitive one at that. You gotta give him credit for the creativity though.
->On Tanalorr, Cal wishes for nothing more than a peaceful life with you. He has never thought of himself as a father, but he'd be lying if he said being with you hasn't sparked some thoughts that often come to him when he sees you playing with BD-1 or caring for Kata.
->That's when he knows that no matter how hard the fight gets, everything will be alright as long as he has you by his side.
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adhd-mode-activate · 11 months
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Jedi Survivor spoilers because here I am again with spoilers (I finished the game so these are endgame spoilers fair warning)
I have a thought in my head that Kata doesn't ever call "Cal" her dad. Or she tries it once and they both get very uncomfortable and agree to never do it again.
he's Master Cal, in a similar friendly way to how I called my Greek professor "Dr. Jones" because he'd finally gotten his PhD and our whole class was so happy for him that we couldn't imagine calling him anything else
Bode, for everything he did wrong, was Kata's dad. Her father. I think Cal would feel odd being her father.
but that doesn't stop him from being a father figure as her master. it certainly doesn't stop them from both ducking their heads when Greez gets onto them for sparring on the Mantis again, or from having conversations varying from the benefits of ponchos to how to handle grief and loss
anyway I don't know why this is so important to me but I have feelings about the balance between the importance of parents and parental figures
now, Kata alternates between calling Merrin by her name and calling her "Mom," like one of my friends does. It's a running joke between them and Cal thinks it's as hilarious as they do. Nobody else gets it
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lovesosweeet · 4 months
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better left unsaid // cth
chapter forty three
in which orion has leukemia, and calum doesn’t know.
calum hood x fem!oc
read other chapters
november 22, 2018 san diego, california orion
A tiny body flopping on top of me wakes me up. It’s accompanied by happy squeals, and I recognize the weight digging into me with child-sized bony knees and elbows as Eri. 
“Eri! I told you! You have to knock!” Em yells after him, entering the room with her hand shielding her eyes. “Please tell me I don’t need to cover my eyes right now!”
I laugh, hearing Cal’s quiet chuckles into my hair behind me. I’m still decked out in a full sweatsuit and Calum is wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt while he’s wrapped around me. The thought of doing something intimate with him last night hadn’t even crossed my mind. I was too shocked and happy to simply be in his presence to think about that. 
“We are fully clothed, Em,” I announce, peeking over the fluffy comforter at my brother, who is smiling wickedly, a construction paper headband with a turkey on it falling off his head. 
“Happy Thanksgiving!” Eri shrieks far too close to my ear. 
“Happy Thanksgiving,” Calum and I mumble in sync.
I’d slept soundly last night for the first time in forever and actually feel rested this morning. I’m not in a bad mood whatsoever, but this wake up call isn’t my favorite. 
“Eri, do you and Em want to go get everything out and ready to go for cinnamon rolls? Cal and I will be down in a minute to help you,” I say, hoping to get Eri off of us and out of the room for a few moments. 
“Yeah! We can help, Emi!” Eri exclaims before he clambers off the bed to the doorway, grabbing Emelia’s hand to drag her out of the room. Em closes the door behind her. 
As I flip over to face Calum, his arm that’s draped over my waist tightens as I move. I sling my leg to hook over his and reach my hand up to cup his somewhat stubbly cheek. He’s sleepily smiling at me, his eyes droopy and smile faint. I feel my heart nearly fly away as it soars. Being back in this proximity to Calum, on good terms, feels better than I could’ve imagined. 
“Morning,” I say, immediately crashing my lips to his, completely unfazed by the likelihood of morning breath. 
He presses his body into mine, diminishing any sliver of air that was between us. His hand that was around my waist trails down, moving swiftly over my spine, lightly caressing my ass, and then stopping at my thigh that he squeezes. His lips move slowly against mine, pulling away to smile widely before he presses repeated, quick pecks against my mouth that send me into a fit of giggles.
“Good morning,” he finally says back, his brown eyes staring into my soul.
When I start to think about how nice it is to wake up next to him again, my eyes get teary. I’ve cried so much lately that I don’t want to cry now and ruin the moment, so I sniff and kiss Calum one more time while I try to make my eyes as dry as they should be.
“I believe chef Orion was requested in the kitchen,” Cal mutters against my lips and his thumb traces circles on my thigh. Even through my sweatpants, it gives me goosebumps. 
I pull back so he can see me roll my eyes. “Fine, I won’t kiss you after we’ve spent all that time apart. Guess you didn’t miss me.”
I pray that my joke lands and I didn’t just mess everything up.
Calum’s laughter fills the room, though, so I know I’m in the clear. “I missed you more than anything, baby.” He kisses me again, and then he throws the blankets off our bodies, exposing us to the colder air in the bedroom.
I groan loudly and curse him silently.
Calum gets out of bed swiftly and then scoops my frail body into his arms before I can stop him. We’re running down the stairs seconds later, our combined laughter and thudding footsteps surely wake up my moms if they weren’t already awake. When we get to the kitchen, they’re both already there, Mama helping Eri reach something from a tall upper cabinet and Emelia and Mom drinking mimosas and pointing at some piece of paper that I think is a recipe for something. 
“Here she is, Eri!” Mama exclaims excitedly, her eyebrows dancing as she wiggles them at me. 
“We have to make cinnamon rolls!” Eri demands. He has our old wooden rolling pin that belonged to our bisabuela before she passed away a few years ago. It’s now a mandatory tool to make our annual Thanksgiving Day cinnamon rolls. 
Calum sets me down finally, right next to Emelia, who’s already pouring two more mimosas for Calum and me. 
“Don’t worry, E, I know we have to make cinnamon rolls. I do it every year.” 
When I was younger, we’d just bought the canned Pillsbury cinnamon rolls at the store and ate those for breakfast every Thanksgiving. But, when I was a junior in high school, I started baking as a hobby and decided to try making them from scratch. Ever since then, I have had to make them from scratch for Thanksgiving because everyone else in the family would never forgive me if I didn’t. 
Emelia hands me my mimosa and I take a sip from it before I assess the state of the kitchen, trying to figure out what I need to do next. It looks like almost everything I need is out on the counters, including the laminated recipe card I made last year. 
Eri and I make the cinnamon rolls — his main job is helping me mix everything, which he still manages to make a very messy activity — while my moms get Emelia and Calum to help them with veggie chopping for dinner later. While the cinnamon rolls bake in the oven, I hear our front door open and voices flood the foyer. It’s my abuelo, my tío, and cousins. My tía had to work today despite the holiday, but she will probably come over later on if she can.
Once the other kids are here, Eri abandons his job in the kitchen, leaving it to just adults, which makes the whole thing feel far less chaotic. When my abuelo walks in, he simply lights up when he sees Calum. 
“Calum!” He nearly yells with surprise. “I didn’t think you’d be here today!” 
Cal looks to me with a smug smile before he walks to my abuelo to hug him. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be, Abuelo.” 
After he hugs Calum, he hugs me. “La mejor sorpresa, mi estrella,” Abuelo whispers to me. “��No lo sueltes otra vez, bien?”
“Nunca,” I whisper back to him, my eyes focused on Calum who’s smiling at me still.
My family catches up with Calum while I drink a mimosa that’s far more champagne than it is orange juice. I’ve mixed together the frosting for the rolls already and have cleaned up most of the mess caused by baking them from scratch with the help from Emelia.
As I look around the room, full of people I love, it washes over me. This could be my last Thanksgiving. I could never bake cinnamon rolls again. What if this is my last holiday ever? Will I even make it to Christmas? What will this look like next year without me, or the year after? Will our traditions continue on without me?
I don’t know if I want things to stay the same for everyone or for them all to completely change. 
I realize I’ve zoned out when the timer on the oven goes off and Emelia waves an oven mitt in front of my face. I thank her before I take it and the other one from its place on the counter and shut off the oven. 
Eri runs in the room at full speed. “Are they ready?”
I sigh. “They have to cool off, bud.” 
He pouts.
“I promise I’ll come get you when they’re done and you can pick the first one.” 
Hours later, we’re all outside around the table with full plate and mugs of mulled wine in front of the adults and hot chocolate in front of the kids. 
“Okay, you know the deal. One thing you’re thankful for and the best part of your year,” Mama calls out to everyone. She’s at the head of the table, with Mom at the other end. Abuelo, my cousins, and Eri are on one side of the table, and then Emelia, my tío and Calum are on the other with myself.
I knew this was coming, but I hadn’t really thought about it and now I have no idea how I’ll answer. My year was quite shitty. Thankful isn’t a word I’d use to describe any of my feelings right now. 
Abuelo goes first and says he’s thankful for the chance to be here with us all today and the best part of his year was watching Eri graduate from kindergarten. My cousins talk about their vacation to Florida and Eri talks about hanging out with Duke and Calum as his highlights. Mama says she’s thankful for family and her favorite part of the year was last night when Cal, Em and I were all here together with Eri. She said it was like having all her baby birds back in the nest. 
“I’m thankful to have a chance to spend time with my second family,” Emelia says. “And the best part of my year was probably when we got to celebrate Macy being cancer free.” I try to smile at her from two seats down but I’m sure the attempt isn’t believable. 
Calum is next, and he squeezes my hand under the table before he speaks. “The best part of my year was probably our tour send off party. So many of my favorite people gathered in our home in celebration of the tour,” he says and then he turns to me. “I’m most thankful for another day to spend with the love of my life.” 
It’s my turn. I should have more than bad things to say about my year. Cancer and the breakup have only been a few months worth of misery, but they feel all consuming. I try to hold back the bad parts and give the good ones a moment to shine. 
“I think the best part was celebrating Macy being cancer free, and I’m thankful that I get to be here with all of you today.” I don’t make eye contact with anyone while I say it, I stare down at the pattern on the antique china that we only use for holiday dinners. 
I study the pattern of florals while tío Ramón and my mom share their answers. I feel Cal’s eyes trained on me the whole time, and I’m fairly confident that he knows I’m trying not to be upset right now. 
I manage to make it through dinner without crying, but I don’t eat much. Calum sneakily takes the food from my plate that he knows I won’t eat and I’m glad he’s here to do it so no one can yell at me for not eating. My appetite is basically nonexistent. The mimosas from this morning and red wine from the dinner wear me down quickly, and my brain is warm and hazy by the time Calum and I curl up on the couch to watch football with Emelia. 
A stampede of tiny feet run into the living room with shrill laughter filling the air, and the little ones throw themselves onto the couch. I barely avoid the sharp elbows that Eri flings about while he flops on top of me for the second time today.
“Woah, bud!” Cal says, pulling my body closer to his so I’m not pinned down by my brother. “Let’s be more careful when you body slam someone. You could hurt them.” 
“Cal! Come play hide and seek with us!” Eri pleads. 
Emelia and Calum speak simultaneously in response. 
“Okay, bud, just for a little,” Cal says.
“Eri, Calum hasn’t seen your sister in months. I’ll come play with you,” Emelia offers. 
Emelia stands up quickly and runs away, making the kids all chase her to whichever room she’s gone to steer them away from us. There she goes again, being the best friend I don’t deserve. I’m grateful for the chance to be alone with Calum again. 
“What’s on your mind, O?” Cal asks when everyone is out of earshot. 
I debate brushing off the question or saying something totally different than what’s really on my mind, but I decide I’ve lied enough to Calum. He’s here because he wants to be here despite the bad shit that’s going on, so I have to tell the truth. 
I feel tears welling in my eyes before I look up to meet his gaze. “What if this is my last Thanksgiving?” 
Calum’s face falls, but he tries to keep his expression neutral. He fails. I could see the sadness in his eyes from a mile away.
“I don’t want you to think like that,” he says. “I know that you can’t help it and you will think like that, but honestly, my love, I’m really just happy we get to be together today.” 
He’s right. I think back to just yesterday when I was crying in bed because I missed him. Now he’s here and things are fine between us. Yesterday I was terrified that he wouldn’t want to come back to me if I called but today he’s here and he loves me and wants to put it all behind us.
The thing is, we can put our problems behind us, but the cancer has to stay right where it is. At the center of my life, and now, at the center of Calum’s.
I’ve been silently mulling things over in my head for too long, I realize, because Cal starts talking again. 
“Do you think everyone would be up for a beach sunset? If we leave in the next twenty minutes or so, we should be able to catch it.” 
I look up at him with still teary eyes, a small smile already forming on my lips. This. This is what I’ve needed. Calum by my side making things better in ways I couldn’t even come up with on my own. Somehow he always knows what to say. 
“Everyone’s been drinking a bit, do you think we’ll be able to get there?” I’m also uncertain of whether or not we should go through the hassle of rounding everyone up and getting them ready for the beach. 
“I’ve only had a couple of mimosas this morning, so I can drive one car. And then I think Ramón hasn’t had much to drink either since he’s gotta drive home tonight too. If you want to go, even if it’s just us, we should go.” 
“I don’t know, I don’t want to ruin anyone else’s plans,” I say, now avoiding looking Cal in the eyes. 
He’s not having it. He presses a kiss onto my forehead before he gets up and runs outside. 
“Gloria! Do you think we can get everyone rounded up to go to the beach in the next 15 minutes?!” I hear him yell, and I just shake my head.
I’ve missed him so much. 
20 minutes later, we’re all crammed into Emelia’s SUV and Ramón’s van, driving to the closest beach access. Calum boosts the mood even more by playing the High School Musical soundtrack and sings into an empty Coke bottle like it’s a microphone. Emelia and my moms in the backseat sing along with him and I find myself smiling like a fool. 
If this is my last Thanksgiving, I’m spending it with my family and I’m laughing, and I decide that’s as much as I can ask for. I don’t know what I could do to make it better than to not be sick. 
Emelia and I are sipping red wine from a thermos on the beach, sharing a blanket with Calum while the rest of the family splashes in the water, the hems of their pants getting wet but none of them seem to mind. I grab my phone from my pocket and pull it out, holding it in front of me on selfie mode. Em and Cal lean their heads in and smile for the picture. Emelia then rips it from my hands and leans away from me, making me pose with Calum for a picture of just the two of us. 
There’s some kind of weight that lifts from my heart as I look at the picture of the two of us smiling at the beach, together again at last. The sun shines golden on us and Em caught some of the pink and orange sky in the background. 
I don’t know what comes over me, and it probably has to do with the copious amounts of wine I’ve had today, but I open the Instagram app and switch my profile to public. My follower count climbs instantly as all of the people who’ve requested to follow me become followers by default. 
I don’t even edit the pictures before I’m making them into a carousel post. 
I refresh my notifications and watch them flood in, fan accounts immediately commenting profanities of shock and excitement.
“Holy shit,” Emelia breathes from beside me. She watched me make the post, but now she’s refreshing the post too, watching the notifications pour in in real time.
I look over and find Calum just grinning at me.
“What?” I ask, laughing slightly.
“I’m just really proud of you. I know you’ve been scared to do that for as long as I’ve known you.”
I roll my eyes and lean over to kiss his cheek, but when I go to settle back comfortably on the blanket, he grabs the back of my neck and kisses me on the lips, his grin pressing against mine.
@orion.seraphina: never had a love so strong and true ‘til i met these two. through the best and the worst. i could say more but i’ll shut up now bc you’re literally right next to me. ilysm @emeliabodelia and the loml @calumhood &lt;3
p.s. hi world. welcome to my stagram! if ur mean i will block u!!!!! have fun creepin! 
Comments:
@emeliabodelia: oh my god i love you so much @cashtongirlie: OH MY GOD WHAT IS HAPPENING HOLY SHIT @macylacy: ORION WHST IS GOAING ON @5sosstan5ever: WHAT THE HELL ORION WENT PUBLIC SND THEYRE BACK TOGETHER @iloveketchup: i never thought the day would come that we could see a post from orion?! @orilumstan: I AM CRYING SOBBING THROWING UP BAWLING MY EYES OUT SCREAMING CONVULSING  @malikoa: the sweetest thing i’ve ever seen! i love you!!!!  @cakegirlie: ????? is this real life????????? @lukehemmings: so happy for you, o! miss you! <;3 @ashtonirwin: <3 three of my favorite humans @paulagarza: felicidades, bella!!! te echo de menos @5sosupdates: I SWEAR INMISSED A CHAPTER WHAT @calumhood: my angel, by your side is my favorite place. <3 te amo. @calumismybf: THIS HURTS BUT IM HAPPY FOR YOU
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wandringaesthetic · 11 months
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Mild spoilers for Jedi Survivor and me taking jokes too seriously ahead:
So, at one point in the game, you'll go through a corridor that has one (1) stormtrooper in it. He has some nervous dialogue, he's shaking, he psychs himself up with a battle cry and a health bar like the ones that appear in boss fights appears at the top of the screen. There have been a couple of boss fights previously in the game that are higher powered versions of common enemies that were just in an elevator or something, so it's reasonable to think that this is a TR-8R situation and an actual boss fight.
But he goes down in one hit and you realize the name over the health bar is "Rick the Door Technician." Alas, Rick, we hardly knew you.
The stormtroopers in this game and in Fallen Order have unique dialogue that you can overhear that gives exposition and texture before you jump from a rooftop and press square, killing them instantly. So they feel a little bit individual. You are killing faceless cogs of the machine, but you are also killing Dudes. Dudes who mostly never had a chance against you.
There's usually a degree of dissonance between story and gameplay when it comes to Star Wars games. A Jedi uses the force for knowledge and defense, never for attack. Uh-huh, yeah, okay. It might not be the Jedi way when I have Cal jump from a rooftop and press square, but that and all those finishing animations prove that game thinks that using the force for attack is... Sweet.
And with that in mind along with the sheer number of stormtroopers you kill in this game and Fallen Order, even accounting for ~ludonarrative dissonance~, I think it's reasonable to say that Cal just likes killing stormtroopers. You can run past Rick and spare him or force push him out of the way. You could do this with a lot of mooks, probably, but the game doesn't have stealth mechanics and isn't really built for that.
Cal is apparently going through some Dark Side struggles and I'm judging will probably go through more later in the game. Rick the Door Technician is probably there for Jokes and not as part of Cal's Fall, but I wonder if, when Cal looked down after having that overreaction to someone who had no business trying to fight him, who he didn't even try to have mercy on, did he have a moment of self awareness?
What am I doing?
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