#cal kestis x gn!reader

[multi-fan-dom-madness]

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

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

Balance (Cal Kestis x reader)

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

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

Word Count: 12,765 my hand slipped

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

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

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

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

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

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

As he probably should be. 

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

He snorts. “There’s no partnership.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yes, you’ll fit in nicely here. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your body flushes with warmth. Kriff. 

Monk says something you can’t quite make out. 

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

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

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

“How did you find me?” 

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

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

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

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

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

“I’d love to see you stop me.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kriff,” you sigh. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Who’s following who now?” you call. 

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

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

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

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

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

You ignore it. 

“Well?” you prompt. 

“I- I don’t know,” he says. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cal. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

A voice calls your name, cautious. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m fine,” you grit out. 

“Yeah, you look fine,” he says. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Purge Troopers. 

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

In all things, balance. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You enact your battle map. 

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

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

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

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

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

He drops his baton and runs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That feels good,” you mumble. 

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

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

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

Bwoop-beep? the droid chimes. 

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

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

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

“What,” you ask, flatly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So why come back?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Show me,” he whispers. 

You frown, brows furrowing. “What?” 

“In the Force,” he says. “Show me.”

“I’ve never—” 

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

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

Apparently, not enough. 

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

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

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

“It’s not—” He huffs. “Whatever.” 

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

“Like this?” he murmurs. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You rip away from Cal Kestis and the illusion breaks. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Something like triumph glows in you. “Good.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kriff,” you sigh, “please.” 

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

You reach up and tug on his fiery hair, earning a low groan. “Rude.” 

He chuckles against your skin, his lips brushing against a sensitive spot. A shiver dances up your spine, a quiet sigh passing your lips. When he bites down there, you moan. 

“Kestis,” you pant. 

“Shh,” he soothes. The hand on your waist trails down to your hip and squeezes in time with another bite to your skin. With another groan, you rock your hips down into him. A grin curls your mouth up in pleasure at the feeling of his half-hard cock beneath you. 

“Off,” you order, tugging on his shirt. 

He breaks away from you long enough to yank the offending article up and over his head. Your palms smooth over the rippling muscles beneath his pale, freckled skin of his stomach, and he shudders. Brushing your thumb over a blaster scar under his ribs, you press a kiss to his shoulder. 

“Did it hurt?” you ask. 

“I’ve had worse,” he says. 

“Show me.” 

His green eyes are dark, nearly black, when he meets your gaze with a questioning look. In response, you skim a featherlight trail over his torso, lingering at the scars that mar his otherwise perfect skin—mirrors, you realize, of the imperfections of his golden aura. 

When you trace the pink scar that bisects his face, he shivers. His hand catches your wrist, halting your movement. 

“That one,” he whispers, voice pained. “That was the worst.” 

You recognize, this close, the telltale signs of a saber wound. He’s lucky to have survived that, you realize. 

Kriff. You press your mouth to his once again, wrapping your legs around his torso. His body fits against yours, hard planes to soft edges, and you groan in unison. His kiss is still tentative, but he moves against you without hesitation when you deepen the kiss, your tongue licking across his bottom lip. His tongue is hot against yours. Spit slicking your lips, you groan into his open mouth. 

Fuck, you need more. Pulling at his hair, you urge his head to tip back, exposing the pale column of his throat. You lick a stripe down his skin, tasting his natural saltiness, delighting in the way his cock hardens against your clothed core. 

“Want you,” you mumble against his collarbone. 

He hums. “I’m yours.”

That possessive flare from before practically obliterates any coherent thoughts your brain was still capable of producing. Growling, you push him onto his back, shuffling down, kissing and licking and biting at his skin as you fumble with his pants. The buttons come undone; his hips raise to help you shuck the clothing off. His cock bobs as it comes free of the confines. 

“Oh fuck,” you moan. “Been holding out on me, Kestis.” 

“If I’d known—” His voice cracks. “If I’d known all you needed was to be fucked, we coulda done this sooner.” 

Tingles spark through your core hearing him curse—hearing him talk about something as base and dirty as fucking you. Stars, the heat in your core is nearly unbearable. 

You need to taste him. 

Wrapping your fingers around his heavy cock, you smear a droplet of precum over his flushed head. His body jerks in response, his eyes half-lidded as he gazes down at you, a smirk playing at his lips. Without warning, you envelope him in your mouth. Cal cries out, hips jerking up. You moan in satisfaction around him. Hollowing your cheeks, you sink your mouth further down onto his length, before sucking, tongue teasing the underside of his head. One hand cupping his balls, you relax your throat and take him deep. The curls at the base tickle your nose. 

“Oh stars,” he breathes. “You’re so good at that. F-Fuck.” 

You hum, settling into a rhythm. His hand, broad and strong and warm, rests on top of your head—not pushing, just there, feeling you. His chest heaving, you can’t help but admire the flush rising to his cheeks, painting him in sin. Spit dribbles out of your mouth, coating the parts of him you can’t reach. Your eyes never leave his. 

Snaking your free hand down your body, you moan at the pleasure that zings through you at the momentary relief of touching yourself. 

“No.” Cal’s voice is strangled, strained. He flicks two shaky fingers, and your hand is yanked out from beneath your body by the Force. 

An obscene pop echoes in your hut as you pull your mouth away from his weeping cock. “Either touch me, or I’ll do it myself,” you growl. 

“Then c-come here,” he stutters. 

Shimmying out of your pants, you discard the garments to the floor without a second thought and climb your way up his body. His hands skim your sides, his touch barely there, as your mouth reconnects with his. You don’t think you’ll ever get enough of his mouth, his touch, his cock. He feels too good. 

You hiss when his hand brushes against your aching sex. He breaks the kiss long enough for his eyes to find yours, a silent question there as his fingers find purchase at your core. 

You can only nod, not trusting your voice. When he moves his hand against you, your vision blurs and you press your forehead to his. 

“Stars, Kestis, just like that,” you hiss. 

He rubs his nose against yours. “Let me take care of you.” 

His touch is electric. Your body jerks against him when his fingers move just right, applying just the right amount of pressure. Heat and tension build in your belly, growing more and more taut by the second. Your legs shake on either side of his hips. 

“Cal,” you whine. “Gonna cum.” 

His touch retreats, and you whimper at the loss of contact. 

“You’re g-gonna cum on my cock,” he promises, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. The sweetness of the action contrasts with the filth of his words, and your stomach lurches. 

“Fuck, yes, okay.” You spit in your hand and reach down to make sure you’re ready for him.

He slicks his own palm with spit and jerks his cock once, twice, getting himself prepped. With his hand at his base, steadying his length, you slowly sink onto him. He splits you open inch by inch, the delicious burn of him in your core drawing a pitiful moan from your chest. When he bottoms out, you twitch in his lap, chest heaving. 

“T-Take me so well,” he murmurs, ghosting his fingertips over your face. “Stars, you feel so- so good.” 

You whine. “Cal.” 

“I know, baby, I know.” 

The pet name seems to surprise him as much as it does you. The heat that’s been simmering in your chest for months now, since the first time you encountered him, dulls into something...softer. More muted. More pliant. 

Eyes locked together, you test the waters and raise your hips a fraction. Moans tumble from both of you at the friction, and that’s all you need. Rolling your hips, you work his cock, drawing the most delicious noises from him. He caresses your face, smooths a hand over your back, kisses you sweetly. You find just the right angle where his cock brushes against that bundle of nerves deep inside, and you shudder. 

“Cal, I—” 

“Yes,” he groans. “Don’t stop.” 

You don’t. You drag your hips frantically against his, chasing the sparks bursting in your core with each thrust. His touch turns harsh as you ride him; your hips will surely bear bruises tomorrow in the shape of his fingertips. You moan at the thought. Mine. Mine mine mine mine. 

Rutting against that raw piece of heaven in your core, you’re blind to everything else. Your injury forgotten, the empty void that yawns in your soul, your frustration with Cal Kestis: all of it is irrelevant right now. All that matters is that you keep fucking Cal. All that matters is the way his cock feels sliding in and out of you, dragging against your walls. All that matters is the way he moans your name like a prayer. 

“Need you t-to cum,” he orders, words faltering as you clench around his cock. 

“I’m close,” you say, voice hoarse. The tension in your belly draws hot and tight, ready to snap. 

Cal finally thrusts up to meet you when you bounce down, and you scream. That taut cord in your belly releases, snapping in two, and you see white. Pleasure explodes through you; every nerve lit on fire, tears dew in your eyes from the intensity. You claw at Cal’s chest, searching for purchase as he absolutely rails into you, chasing his own release. 

Through it all, he babbles. “J-Just like that, baby. Cum all over this cock. Fuck, you’re g-gonna make me— I— fuck, ngh, I’m—” 

He stills as he cums, his cock pulsing against your walls, and you jerk at the sensation, oversensitive. 

Your eyes flutter as you look down at him in the gathering darkness. His skin shines with a thin sheen of sweat. As his cock softens inside of you, letting some of his cum drip out, you groan softly. 

“This was a mistake,” you whisper. 

He swallows visibly, and nods. “I know.” 

You capture his lips in another kiss, one he returns with a fervor. Stars, you almost wish you really did hate him. This would be so much easier. 

“What now?” he asks, thumb brushing over your tender hips. 

You shrug. “Same time next week?” 

He huffs a laugh. “Very funny.” 

“Thanks.” 

He hums. “I’m leaving tomorrow.” 

All of the heat of the last few minutes dissipates immediately, and ice knifes your insides. You push away from him finally, his cum dripping down your inner thigh as you stand, bend to retrieve your clothes, tug them on. 

“Okay.”

“That’s it?” 

“What do you want me to say, Kestis?” 

He sighs as he reaches for his own clothes. “I don’t know. I don’t know.” 

“You should have left when I told you to,” you say, arms crossed over your chest as you stare out the single window of your home at the rapidly falling dark. 

“Yeah, maybe.” His hand is warm and familiar where he rests it on your shoulder. “You could...come with me.” 

You narrow your eyes. “And have to live by your Jedi code? No thanks.” 

“No code,” he says, quiet, contemplative. “Just the fight.” 

“Just the fight,” you echo. When he nods, something you sense more than see, you sigh. “I could...tag along. Just this once.” 

“Of course,” he says. His lips press against your temple. “Just this once.” 

Swallowing against the strange metallic taste rising to your mouth, you blink and summon the Force. You’re grateful for Cal’s grounding presence behind you. Your signature is...muddied. Marbled black and gold. When you glance down at his hand on your skin, you find that his aura is the same as yours. Mixed. Confused. 

Balanced.

Yes, you think. Hating him would have been easier.

[lemonsprite]

𝐈𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 || 𝐂𝐚𝐥 𝐊𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐬 𝐱 𝐆𝐍! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Summary: Cal was injured while on his mission through Kashyyyk

Word count: 764

Warnings: Description of injury (it's not that bad tho)

“Easy Cal- easy.” You wince, placing your significantly injured companion against the cold marble of Greez’s shower. 

The shower itself wasn’t big, nothing was on this ship. Everything was supposed to be tiny to help fit as much as they could on the small Mantis. Normally you liked the comforting squeeze, but now you couldn't help but loathe it as you tentatively place a shaking hand over Cal’s wounded stomach, softly applying pressure as your free hand digs around the small bathroom, blindly searching for a medkit. 

Cal laughed weakly before coughing up more blood. “I think you’re more worried about me than I am.” He teased, looking up at you with those sparkling green eyes despite the blood that flowed loosely down his side. 

You frowned at him, not finding his joke funny as your hand finally grasped multiple bacta patches. Setting the healing bandages down right next to you, you get to work taking off Cal’s poncho as quickly and painlessly as possible before pulling off his jacket, the fabric sticky with blood. 

Cal made no motion to stop you as his upper body was left bare. Without his shirt, you could see the full damage of his trip to Kashyyyk. Deep slashes (probably from a Wyyschokk your mind supplied), ran all across the length of his torso, bruises scattered here and there were already turning an angry purple, and most if not all of Cal’s pale freckled skin was covered in thickly caked mud. 

You cringed at the sight, tossing Cal’s dirty clothes somewhere behind you, before standing up. 

“I’m gonna wash you off…” You said hesitantly. “Is that okay?” 

Cal nodded without saying a word, his breaths coming out slow and ragged. 

Wetting one of the clean towels folded neatly on the counter, you returned to Cal’s side, looking nervously up and down his body wondering where to begin. 

The young Jedi in front of you laughed weakly once more, grabbing your hand and bringing it towards him. 

“Don’t worry, I don’t bite.” He smirked. 

You rolled your eyes before beginning to wash his wounds, clearing all the gory, aching cuts of mud. 

“What the hell did you get up to out there?” You asked, referring to his mission, your hands still working fervently to clean his torso. 

“There was this big albino Wyyschokk,” He replied, rolling slightly onto his side so you could better tend to his back. “Damn thing got me good and BD ran out of stim canisters, and by the time we got back to the Mantis my wounds had already…” He trailed off, his eyes drooping with fatigue. 

“Hey Cal, stay with me.” You frowned, snapping your fingers in front of his eyes. “Keep talking.” 

Cal smiled softly at you, his eyes warm with fondness. 

“The plants there were beautiful, I would love to take you there sometime.” 

You blushed at Cal’s suggestion, his offer sounding almost like the suggestion of a date. Shaking your head, you dismissed those thoughts, continuing to clean the other's wounds. 

“As much as I’d love to see the scenery of Kashyyyk, I’d rather not be attacked by a man-eating foliage.” You joked. 

Cal chuckled, his laugh morphing into more coughing as you put down your rag, reaching for the bacta patches. Despite his multiple wounds, Cal couldn’t seem to stop smiling at you, practically purring with contentment as you smoothed the bacta patches adhesive side down over the deep lacerations. 

“I don’t understand how you’re able to stay as calm as you are right now…” You thought aloud, your hands gently running up and down his torso, making sure the patches were all safely secured. 

Cal sighed, melting into your touch. “I know I’m safe when you’re next to me.” He smiled. 

You blushed at his words, your gazes looking everywhere but at the other. 

“Cal Kestis, are you seriously flirting with me when you are on death's door?” You asked, throwing a glare at him, yet you both know you didn’t truly mean it. 

“And if I am?” He smirked, sitting up further against the wall. The bacta patches were working fast, the color was already returning to Cal’s face. 

You opened your mouth to respond but nothing came out, your brain short-circuiting. 

Cal laughed weakly at your expression, moving his hand to gently place on top of yours which still lay on his bare chest. 

“I meant what I said about taking you to see the scenery.” He smiled. “Except maybe not Kashyyyk’s…” 

You laughed quietly. “I might just have to take you up on that offer.”

[layla4567]

May the force be with you

Cal Kestis x GN reader

Summary: Y/N has started to have feelings for Cal but doesn't know how to confess, maybe a love letter will help.

Warnings: Fluff time 😎

A/N: Hello, I apologize for not having included the "readmore" before (in fact I don't know if I did it correctly because they had never asked me before) and another apology if the story is not very accurate to the Star Wars universe (I'm not into it )

• • • • • • •

Maybe you always had those feelings for your friend. From the first minute you saw that red head and freckles like a strawberry. Yes, that must have been it. These feelings were not new, but even so in recent times they have intensified. Oh, yes indeed.

It all started in the last most recent mission. They were on the Mantis trying to look for the tombs of the three wise men. The map already had the exact coordinates, the destination was Dathomir. They got off the ship and headed towards some dark caves. It was wet and Cal had to light the way with his saber. You were lagging behind and the shadows were wrapping around you like a thin gauze, you ran in fear to his side and squeezed his hand, Cal turned his head towards you in surprise but then gave you a warm smile. He knew you were scared of the dark.

The faithful BD1 was clinging to Cal's shoulder. We went deeper and in a moment the place seemed more illuminated, the walls were no longer rocks but fat roots that rose from the floor to the ceiling. BD1 made a beep and quickly got off the redhead's shoulder and ran towards some kind of climbing wall and stopped looking at both of you.

"Looks like here is". Said the freckled boy with his hands on his hips looking up.

The white droid made an affirmative metallic noise, Cal smiled widely.

"Okay little one, hop on"

The boy stretched out his arm and the small droid climbed up to him to cling to his back. Then he saw you without stopping smiling

"Ladies first"

Cal extended his arm like a gentleman inviting you in as you bowed briefly, laughing. You held on tightly to the wall and started climbing it with Cal underneath you. He tried not to look up, blushing slightly. When you reached the top you saw him climb and with each step the muscles in his arms flexed and bulged, you had to shake your head to concentrate on something else.

Unfortunately the route did not end there, they had to cross to the other side and climb a wall that reached another rock. You approached the edge, you thought about whether you could jump but the gap was very long, you swallowed worriedly. Cal came to your side, reassuring you.

"Hey don't worry, I'm here with you"

His closeness and his affectionate squeeze on your arm made your cheeks redden and a chill ran down your neck. Of course he had no idea about all these sensations that were going through your body.

"I'll cross first, so you can see how I did it, okay?"

He offered generously and you nodded. For him it was easy, he was much more agile and flexible than you. Even when he was a simple worker he could jump and do pirouettes, you can't. With the grace and ease of a monkey he arrived at the other side in a second, then he looked at you with a nod of head inviting you to cross. You were still afraid, you tried to see how he did it but it had been so fast. Seeing that you were hesitant, Cal shouted at you, encouraging you.

"Nothing will happen to you, trust me, if you fall I'll catch you."

Those words, that simple phrase melted your heart. Now you were sure, you were in love with him. The tenderness with which he said that made you want Cal in your life more than ever so he could protect you. A little calmer you approached the wall and after steadying your feet you began to move to the right, always concentrating on not looking down. Don'tlookdowndon'tlookdown. Cal followed your every movement with religious attention, prepared for any possible fall. When you were about a meter from the edge of the other rock Cal advised you to try to push yourself to the right and jump. Your face contorted into a mask of terror, jump? Was he crazy or what?

"Just trust me!"

Of course you trusted him, you would even trust him with the most powerful weapon because you knew he wouldn't hurt you with it. You took a deep breath and followed his advice. You took a clean and jerk with your entire body flexed and jumped to the right, stretching your entire body and your arms trying to grab the edge of the rock. With horror you saw how your fingers barely touched the surface and you began to fall. An anguished scream calling your friend's name came from your throat, tearing the silence of the place. The freckled man quickly positioned himself at the edge of the rock as if his life depended on it and held you firmly by the wrists. The two of you looked at each other for a few seconds while your body hung and swung in the air. You were scared, but Cal was frowning with effort and huffing, but he couldn't stop a mocking smile from appearing at the corner of his lips.

"I promised you I'd catch you didn't I?"

A nervous smile appeared on your face. Very carefully he lifted you up and placed a hand on your back so you could sit up. Being so close to him created revolutions in your head and hormones. His gaze inspecting you up and down for possible injuries as he asked you over and over again if you were okay made you feel weak, your legs felt weak as if at any moment they could shake and fall with your knees hitting the cold, hard floor as you hugged his waist and you gave him looks with the eyes of a lost puppy, drunk, needy, desirous and burning with love saying "I am yours"

As your breathing quickened slightly Cal seemed satisfied with his inspection and they continued on their way with BD1 in the lead. You were still a little distracted by all your intoxicating and somewhat lewd thoughts about your friend that you didn't realize he was walking away so you shook your head and trotted after him.

The second time Cal gave you butterflies in your stomach (without him even knowing) was in Kashyyyk. A holocron had guided us there for the same reason, to find information about the Zaffo. Already on the ship we were preparing to land, Cal put on some of his ponchos because that day was cooler, you didn't want to be a weirdo who spies on people but you couldn't help but look askance when he put on his poncho in front of you. It looked so cute on him. They jumped off the Mantis that had already boarded and landed on the ground. It was a quite jungle place full of bushes and wild plants. You headed again to a kind of cave but this time illuminated because it had no roof, Cal and BD1 never left your side. You could see that there was a giant spider web on the ground, how disgusting.

"Be careful, there may be giant spiders here." Cal said, pointing to the spider web that you had seen and a look of concern tried to appear on your face but you suppressed it.

Another time you had to climb a wall, by this time you had already practiced jumping and climbing so you could handle this. When they reached the top they saw a kind of machine that Cal touched with his hand and a long rope was deployed above you, a zip line.

"BD1 would you do the honors?"

Cal looked at the droid that was on the ground, when it did a small cartwheel and then jumped on the redhead, Cal laughed amused.

"Wait, wait, do the honors for what?" You asked suspiciously and confused.

"Oh right, I hadn't told you. We will cross to the other side with the help of BD1"

The freckled redhead pointed to his little droid friend and he jumped up to grab the cable. BD1 beeped letting them know it was ready and waiting for them to grab onto it. You stepped back, if there was something that scared you more than the darkness it was heights, you had a lot of vertigo. Cal turned to look at you and saw you so serious and scared that he approached you worriedly to take your hand. And there the butterflies began to flutter in your stomach. He guided you towards the zip line slowly with tenderness, love and patience as if you were a child.

"Come, hold on to me." Cal raised your arms to put them behind his shoulders. My God, you felt like you were going to faint. You shyly wrapped your arms around his neck as he wrapped his strong arm around your waist, pressing you closer to him, you gasped in surprise.

"I'm sorry". He said modestly

"No!, I mean, It-It's ok"

Your head was on the opposite side of his, looking back and although you couldn't see his face you felt him smile in amusement.

"Alright, are you ready?"

Resting your head in the crook of his neck you nodded wordlessly. He affirmed his grip and when he told BD1 that they were ready you closed your eyes squeezing them. BD1 moved quickly and soon you felt that your feet were no longer touching the ground, you screamed scared but you knew that nothing would happen to you having Cal by your side. You opened your eyes a little and adrenaline invaded you, your hair was shaking from the speed and your breathing was short, you felt a rollercoaster in your stomach. When they reached the other side you felt a little dizzy as you got out of Cal's arms, you staggered a little still in shock and he quickly grabbed you by the shoulders.

"all in order?"

Cal looked at you attentively looking for any sign of discomfort but you were smiling almost laughing, the zip line ride had been more exciting than you thought and soon fear gave way to excitement. You looked at him and nodded, your hair was messy. He laughed and gently smoothed your rebellious locks that were sticking to your face, gently brushing them aside. The soft touch of his fingertips on your face and forehead sent an electric current again, this time throughout your spine. And damn, he didn't even know it and maybe he never will.

And here you were now, sitting at the desk in your room with BD1 staring at you sitting on the table to one side and with an old paper like a papyrus and a pencil in your hand and your mind blank. You sighed frustrated, you thought it was time to confess to Cal but you weren't good at talking, expressing your feelings. When you wanted to speak to him you couldn't find the right words. But you were better at writing than talking, a love letter would be an easier way to put your feelings in order without the pressure of seeing Cal face to face. Or so you thought. You still didn't know how to start the letter.

Dearest Cal

You huffed in annoyance, it was too formal. After all, he was your friend, not a stranger. You tapped the tip of your pencil against your head, thinking of new ideas. BD1 next to you had no idea what you were doing, you certainly didn't understand his language but it wasn't difficult to figure out what he was saying since the white droid looked with his head tilted at the paper and then looked at you.

"I'm writing a letter to Cal." BD1 looked at you as if waiting for an explanation.

"Yes, to Cal. A...love letter". The little droid jumped excitedly, you laughed.

"It's been a while since I had to confess my feelings to him but I didn't feel up to it, so I thought a letter would be easier. But don't tell him anything, promise."

BD1 nodded his head standing firm which made you smile tenderly. You closed your eyes and exhaled air through your mouth. You decided you wouldn't think so much and just let the pencil guide your hand. After letting your emotions and thoughts flow, the letter looked more or less like this

Cal I hope this letter reaches you on time and is not too late. I can no longer hide what I feel for you, I think I like you. And not as a friend, I really like you. I don't intend for you to feel the same way about me, I just wanted to let out what I feel and clear my mind and heart. Your always friend, Y/N

You put your pencil down shakily as you folded the paper into four. With your heart pounding in your chest like a drum, you could only hope that Cal wouldn't take it the wrong way, and even better, if he also felt the same as you. Suddenly you heard footsteps behind you and your friend's voice calling for his company droid. Pale, you quickly and clumsily shoved the paper into your pocket just before Cal entered your room.

"Hey here you are, I looked for you all over the ship!". He came up behind you as you turned around in your seat with a forced smile, dying of nerves inside. On the other hand the droid gave a happy beep. Cal noticed you and added, smiling.

"And it's good to see you too, we'll wait for you for dinner"

You responded that you would be there with an awkward laugh. Cal walked away from your room and you breathed a sigh of relief again, BD1 was still attentive to you.

"Here, take this to Cal, leave it in his room where he can see it please. I'm counting on you."

You handed him the folded letter and as if he were an agent on a special mission, the little robot ran towards the freckled man's room without being seen. You stood up laughing but then the smile faded from your face. What if Cal didn't feel the same way? You tried to push away those harmful thoughts. You took a deep breath to calm yourself and bravely left your room. And may the force be with you

The dinner was exquisite, the atmosphere was warm and familiar. It really felt like a united family. Cal couldn't stop making jokes and you laughed at everything he said or did with dreamy eyes. This did not escape Cere's attention, of course. After dinner you offered to wash the dishes with her.

"It seems like you and Cal get along well." She said casually

You stood looking at her confused with a plate in her hand and the sponge in the other dripping soapy water.

"Cal gets along with everyone, he's like that.". You said downplaying it

"Yes, but I could notice that he spends more time with you or looks at you in a peculiar way. Mmh, I wonder why that is?"

"What? Seriously?"

You couldn't help the astonishment that formed all over your face and voice. Cere had made you fall into her trap.

"Ah, I knew it! You like him, kid!"

"Whaaat? Me? pftt, I don't think so"

You cleared your throat and forced a strangely high-pitched voice that wanted to sound disinterested. But Cere wasn't stupid and placed a hand on your shoulder.

"I meant it. I've seen how Cal gets closer to you than the rest. Talk to him, I think the feeling could be mutual"

This fanned the flame of hope within your heart. You thanked him and went outside to practice with your cane. Cal was already in his room. You remembered the letter. You trembled nervously and ran out of the ship.

The sky was a beautiful twilight orange color. The afternoon breeze made your hair wave. You firmly gripped your staff and began to swing it in your hand, attacking and blocking an invisible opponent. Meanwhile Cal was sitting on his bed thinking about resting for a while when he saw a paper on his nightstand. He took it and unfolded it, when he began to read his heart began to accelerate. He quickly searched the entire ship looking for you, seeing you practicing outside he decided to approach. You were trying to spin your cane in front of you and wave it at the sides of your body but you were hitting yourself or dropping the cane.

"You're doing it wrong"

His deep voice behind you made you jump and throw the cane onto the grass. Laughing, he approached you and with the Force he attracted the cane that you dropped to his hand. He always boasted about his gift. Cal stood behind you, pressing his body against your back. Your breath hitched for a moment. He placed the cane in your hands, taking you by the elbow and guiding your arms forward. His head was close to your neck and tilted forward a little so he could see your hands. His chest pressed against your back made your ears turn red.

"Hold the cane firmly and do it like this"

His breath tickled your neck and shoulder and made you feel electricity. Cal guided your hands by placing his on top of yours. His hands larger than yours maintained firm but gentle contact and together they moved as if they were a single wave, as if they were practicing a dance learned by heart. When you were finally able to do the maneuver you wanted to do with your cane, he congratulated you without leaving you and you turned your head to look at him happily. When you turned to look ahead he took advantage of this and got closer to your ear.

"I already read your letter"

His whispered voice near your ear made your mind go blank and you worriedly bit your bottom lip hard. You turned to face him with your eyes lowered.

"Yeah about that, I-"

Cal grabbed your cheek forcing you to look at him, you could feel your cheeks burning as you opened your eyes enormously.

"Shh, You don't have to say anything. Why didn't you tell me before?"

"I was afraid, afraid that it wouldn't be reciprocated. You are the sweetest being in the galaxy and when I'm with you I feel complete and I didn't want to-"

You started talking so fast and you were getting so nervous that Cal closed the distance by grabbing your cheeks with both hands and crashing his lips against yours. It was a tender kiss, his shy lips barely touched yours for fear that you would reject him. He broke the kiss, looking at you expectantly.

"Don't stop." You exalted with drunken love eyes and his lips

Cal placed his hands on your hips and you moved your hands up to the collar of his shirt, deepening the kiss. Now his mouth covered much of yours with more confidence, but it was still delicate like everything about him. From the ship Cere looked mischievously from the window

• • • • • • •

[thefizzyprince]

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*Requests are open*

Argus, what fandoms do you write for?

Marvel

Star Wars

Supernatural

COD(specifically for the 141 boys and co.)

TVD/The Originals

The Last Of Us

Dragon Age Series

Game Of Thrones

Shameless

*These are just a handful of fandoms but I'm always willing to add more, Got a special request? just ask and I'll see what I can do!*

Argus, who are you writing for? What Can I Request?

I'm writing mainly for male readers and gender-neutral readers, my posts will cater to those two demographics unless I decide to take on something special.

I will take requests for the following:

smut

angst

fluff

headcanons

drabbles

series

comfort

AU's

And more!

Argus, how often will you be posting?

As often as I can hopefully, Writing has always been a hobby of mine so I'll do my best to be consistent but I may be tied up with work and school sometimes so I'll let y'all know when things may take a little longer to finish up.

Argus, is there anything off limits?

There sure is reader! Here's just a short list of some things I wont write about:

Real People

Incest

Underage Characters/Minors

Gore

Offensive/Harmful material

Pedophilia

*If you're unsure about a request you can always just ask, these are just a few things I am uncomfortable with writing and I'll always let you know what I'm willing to write.*

[myfavxreader]

GN!Reader x Cal Cestis

Of bunk beds and confessions

summary: when there’s a new crew member on the Mantis, reader feels discouraged to confess to Cal.

relationship: Cal Kestis x GN reader

warnings: slight spoilers for Jedi Fallen Order, dw it has a happy ending uvu

word count: 2.8k

A/N: recently finished JFO (finally! lol) and i have A Lot Of Feelings so, here you go

prompt used: hesitant kisses, but when they part one whispers "do it again. please."(source, by @urfriendlywriter)

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

— — —

You’re waiting on the Mantis with Cere and Greez for Cal to get back with the Astrium. You’re currently on Dathomir, and you’re not entirely sure what he had to do to get the thing, but he comm’d you some minutes ago saying he’s on his way back to you.

You stand at the top of the ship’s ramp, trying to see if you can see him somewhere. You’ve been worried out of your mind when he would send you short and clipped messages, telling you he had to fight some mysterious but apparently very powerful traveller he met on this planet. The whole place gave you the creeps; with the Nightsisters gone and all, it just felt like a hollow, haunted memory of a civilization. 

Despite everything being tinted red, from the rocky formations all the way up to the sky, your eyes catch a familiar flash of copper hair. Your head turns and you look out to Cal, who’s about to reach the ship. Only then do you finally allow yourself to breathe properly again. 

The thought crosses your mind that, with how worried you are when Cal’s gone, not knowing if it’s the last time you’ll see him when you wish the Force to be by his side as he leaves for several hours, only to come back all beat up… Maybe you should finally tell him how you feel. It’s a selfish thought, but you’re not sure how much longer your heart can take this. 

Turning back inside, you shake your head and try to calm the pounding against your ribcage. The important thing is that he’s back, he’s alive. 

“Cal’s back!” you call to the rest of the crew, and everyone gathers around the dinner table just as Cal walks up the ramp to the Mantis.

“You found it!” Cere says when she sees the small, black item in Cal’s hand, who’s showcasing it.

Suddenly, there’s a flurry of green and black behind him as a person appears out of thin air.

“Whoa, who’s this?” Greez asks, pointing to the stranger. 

As you take in her appearance, you kinda freeze: it’s a Nightsister. BD beeps excitedly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” the pilot asks the droid, still unsure about her presence on his ship.

“It means I’ll be joining you,” she says, with an accent and with confidence. You look at Cal, hoping for him to intervene, but instead, he looks excited. Cal points to each of you, introducing you all by name to the newcomer.

“And this is Merrin,” Cal finishes, pointing to her.

“Wha–” Greez looks up at him just as shocked as you are. “She’s a witch, isn’t she?”

“A Nightsister,” Merrin corrects him. “Your fear is unnecessary.”

“I couldn’t have gotten the Astrium without her,” Cal explains. “We fought Malicos together. I trust her.”

Those words hit you like a bag of bricks. He trusts her. They fought together. She must be a skilled warrior, then. Meanwhile you’re just… you. And next to her, it doesn’t feel like enough. 

“And we trust you,” Cere retorts with a smile directed at Cal, then turns serious as she looks at Merrin. “You will have to earn it.” 

“Fine, grab some seat,” Greez mutters under his breath as he makes his way to the cockpit. “As long as she doesn’t do anything funny.”

“Welcome aboard,” Cere finally says to Merrin and follows Greez to the front of the ship. 

Cal looks after them for a second, then turns to the new crew member.

“They like you,” he remarks, and looks at you as if waiting for you to add something, but you’ve long averted your eyes from him. 

The image of Cal looking at Merrin is now burned in your retinas. Doubt and jealousy spread within you, so you leave for the back of the ship, missing Merrin’s questioning gaze on you. 

Greez sets course for Zeffo to bring the Astrium to the temple and finally, hopefully get the Holocron. You wonder what will happen after that. Is the crew gonna split up? You sure hope not; you don’t really have anywhere else to go.

You didn’t join the Mantis team much earlier than Cal did, so this was your first time you were on the move with Jedis, and if you were being honest, you liked it. Most of it, at least. You liked the sense of adventure, sure. The constant worry about a certain redhead, not so much. And yet you can’t get enough of him and his boyish smile as he apologises for the scratches and bruises you nurse back to health. You’re sure that you’d follow him to the end of the Galaxy if he asked you to. 

But that probably isn’t gonna happen, not if you correctly read how Cal and Merrin exchanged looks throughout the evening when eating dinner. Merrin asked for her steak rare, and you felt that with every jab of her fork into the meat (which to you was way too red), she was looking in your direction. You really weren’t in the mood to confront the newcomer, especially when Cal and even BD seemed so thrilled to have her here, so you tried to ignore her most of the day. Which probably wasn’t the most polite thing to do, but there were other things on your mind.

When the time came to sleep, the crew had to make a few changes. The Mantis has four separate rooms with two bunks each, and until you figure out something better, Cal volunteered to bunk with Greez so Merrin could have her own room.

Now lying in your bed at night, you think back to how you almost didn’t get to talk at all with Cal since he arrived with the Astrium today, despite how worried you were. Just like every other time he’s gone ever since this race for the Holocron started.

As the medic of the crew you’ve had to patch up Cal several times, often giving him a piece of your mind, given how badly injured he came back sometimes. You don’t consider him to be reckless though, in fact you saw how competent he is first-hand when he defended you from an Inquisitor. But still you can’t help the knot in your throat and the tightening in your chest that only loosen up when you see him coming back to the Mantis in one piece. 

And just like every time he came back, today too he sat on the chair as you cleaned up his wounds. Usually you two would chat while you work, but today you had refrained from saying too much, scared that the conversation would shift to the new crew member, and as such giving away how you felt about her. Not that you disliked her (you still hadn’t dealt with Merrin enough to get an idea of the person she was), but her being seemingly close to Cal had put a significant dent in your confidence. Your plans of confessing your feelings to him were now thrown into the bin and you felt silly for ever thinking you had a chance to begin with.

You sigh to yourself in your bunk, pulling the blanket up to your chin and waiting for the ship’s constant hums of hyperspace to lull you to sleep. But at the speed your mind is racing, you doubt sleep will come your way any time soon.

Just as you’re considering doing some reading instead of sleeping in an attempt to tire yourself out, there’s a knock at your door.

Your breath hitches and you tense up. The first person that comes to mind is Merrin; what if she’s here to tell you off or something? To confront you about your attitude at dinner? Or worse, what if she’s here to… hurt you? 

No wait, that’s ridiculous. Shaking away your thoughts, you clear your throat.

“Come in,” you call to the person on the other side.

Much to your surprise, when the door slides open, it’s Cal standing there. A shirtless Cal to be exact, only wearing sweats. He's holding BD in his arms and quickly comes in, closing the door behind him, and approaches you to sit on the edge of your bed.

“I did not know a body so small could snore so loudly” he remarks and yawns. 

Even though you've seen Cal without his shirt plenty of times when patching him up, you can feel the heat prickling your cheeks. You really hope he can’t see how you're eyeing him up, no matter how much you try to tear away your gaze.

“Can I… sleep here tonight?” he asks, and your heart skips a beat. You internally reprimand yourself for that as he’s obviously asking about the bunk above you, not about sharing your bed. 

“Of course,” you reply, hoping your voice doesn’t betray you. 

He thanks you and climbs onto the bed. BD beeps something you don't understand, and Cal answers in quiet whispers you can't really hear.

Some minutes pass by, and you have to remind yourself to breathe. Now there is for sure no way you'll fall asleep, great. You plan on waiting for him to pass out so you can pull out your book, but Cal keeps shifting back and forth, seemingly unable to find a comfortable position to sleep in. 

“Can’t sleep?” you ask after some time, and he sighs deeply.

“Sorry, I'm probably shaking the whole thing,” he says with a sheepish chuckle.

“Wanna sleep down here?” you find yourself proposing, and mentally facepalm yourself. What you meant to say was “Want to switch places?”, but now you made it sound like you're inviting him to sleep in your bed with you. Not that you'd have anything against it, but he's probably taken aback by it–

His fiery hair hangs from his head as he’s peeking down over the edge of the bunk to look at you.

“Really?” he asks, and you can't tell if the tone of his voice is teasing or hopeful. He probably understood what you meant about switching places, right? And that's what he means to do?  

You merely nod your head with an affirmative hum, and Cal’s face disappears so he can properly climb down. He comes to stand beside the bed just as you're sitting up to get out. You're about to throw your legs over the edge when he places a knee next to you, and you freeze.

“Scoot over” he instructs, and you follow. He lifts the blanket and slides under.

You turn on your side with your back to him, trying to shuffle all the way to the wall so he has enough space. Instead you feel yourself being pulled back as Cal hugs you from behind and brings you into his chest, tangling his legs with yours. BD joins the nap pile as well and settles at the end of the bed.

“Is this okay?” he asks, tightening his hold around your waist ever so slightly, and you're still too stunned to speak, so once again you merely nod, and he heaves a deep sigh, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

“Is this okay for you though?” you suddenly blurt out. He lifts his head at the question.

“What do you mean?”

“I thought… you and Merrin…” you say and immediately regret it, forcing yourself to shut up. You should have just kept silent and enjoyed this moment. 

“What about her?” Cal asks, the arm at your waist pulling you over to lie on your back while he props himself on his elbow to look down at you.

You don’t answer immediately, unsure of what to say. You fidget with the hem of the blanket. 

“I don't know, the way she looked at you… I thought you two...”

He gives you a small, maybe even shy, smile.

“Greez was snoring,” he states, which seems pretty unrelated, so you quirk an eyebrow at him. “And whose room did I go to?”

You avert your gaze from his, not wanting to give in just yet. Somewhere in the back of your brain there was still a little voice saying that there's no way he's implying what you think he's implying, and that you shouldn't get your hopes up because you're only gonna get crushed.

Then he softly calls your name, and you're suddenly aware of how he can possibly not just hear but feel how your heart is pounding against your ribs, with his body pressed to your side. His hand reaches up to gently hold your chin, turning your face to look at him, and your cheeks burn once more.

The way he looks at you, how the dim lighting from behind seems to form the faintest of halos against his copper hair, how his ocean eyes shine through the darkness and look into yours longingly… You make sure to commit everything to memory, afraid of this moment ever ending. You're so busy counting every freckle, tracing every line of his face with your eyes, his jaw, his collarbones, that you miss how his own eyes flicker to your lips for a moment, and he starts leaning in. 

Before you can even process what’s happening, Cal presses his lips to yours. The touch is feather-light, almost like he’s scared to press too hard. Just as quickly as it started, it ended much too soon. Pulling back only enough to look at you, he’s about to say something, but you go first.

“Do it again,” you demand in a whisper. “Please.”

Cal’s happy to oblige and leans back down, now with more confidence. This time he feels you reciprocate, so he moves on top of you, his arms on either side so as not to crush you with his weight. He traces your bottom lip with his tongue, and you open your mouth to meet it with your own. Your hands reach up, one around his toned back, the other over his shoulder, to his nape, and into his fiery hair. Tangling your fingers into the strands, you pull ever so slightly and he groans into the kiss. If you thought your cheeks were burning before, now your whole body is positively ablaze. 

He breaks the kiss for much needed air, peppering some more on your jaw and neck, which makes you giggle lightly. 

You’re both panting lightly, trying to get your breathing and erratic hearts under control, still looking at each other in awe of what just happened, when BD suddenly beeps.

“Wha- Yeah, I was about to!” Cal says over his shoulder to the droid.

“What did he say?” you ask, cupping his face with both your hands, and he leans into your touch, closing his eyes.

“He said I should tell you how I feel about you,” he explains sheepishly, and when you chuckle at that, he looks back at you.

“I think you’ve made it plenty clear” you tell him with a grin. “But you can’t never be too sure.”

Cal stifles a laugh while shaking his head, hugging you to him and turning around so now you’re on top of him. The action makes you squeak in surprise, and your hand shoots up to cover your mouth as you hide your face in his chest in embarrassment. He chuckles, and you can feel it rumbling through you both. 

“Then let me clear it up,” he starts and his face gets a bit more serious. His hand comes up to hold your face, brushing over your cheekbone with his thumb. “You’re the first thing to make sense in a very, very long time. I’ve been running, hiding for so long… You reminded me that there’s more to life than just survival. And now I can’t imagine a life without you in it.”

You place your own hand over his own, leaning into it and closing your eyes to savour the moment and make sure that you’re not dreaming. After a moment you look back up at him with a smile you can’t stop from spreading no matter how hard you try, not that you’d want to. 

Since you don't really know how to answer and put your feelings into words, you decide to kiss him one more time. It’s cut short though as you have to lean back for a yawn you can’t stifle. Despite your racing heart and the million thoughts going through your head right now, the claws of sleep are slowly creeping in to claim you. 

You kinda slump onto Cal, who huffs in surprise but hugs you nonetheless, and you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck as you nestle your body against his, your leg over his hip.

“I also want you to stay in my life, Cal,” you mumble as you lazily trace shapes onto his skin. “Even after we find the Holocron and everything, no matter where you go, I’ll be right by your side and kiss you better when you get your ass beat by some monster somewhere.”

“Can’t wait,” he says with a chuckle and a kiss to your head, then wishes you good night, hugging you impossibly closer to him.

[hxney-lemcn]

Reunions and Resolved Misunderstandings — Cal Kestis x gn! reader

summery: feeling like an outcast, you're the first one to leave the Mantis' crew. years later, you stumble across Cal once again and old feelings end up bursting to light in the worst of ways. At the very least, misunderstandings are finally cleared.

tw: mentions of killing/assassination (readers past), hurt/comfort, slight spoilers for the beginning of Jedi Survivor.

a/n: I got to the kiss in Jedi Survivor and inspiration struck. I can see how every Cal fic is about 4k words long, its hard not to write so much for him lmao.

wc: 3.1k

Master List

It had been as clear as day. The connection between Cal and Merrin was undeniable. It made your stomach churn. You were with Cere and Greez when you saved him from Bracca and had been glued to his side ever since…that was until Merrin joined. Don’t get me wrong, you loved her and was glad to offer her a new home…but every time your eyes landed on the two you felt your heart twist. In response to this new development you distanced yourself. Tried to smile past the ache in your heart and enjoy what you had. But it was hard, and it didn’t help that Cere and Greez seemed to know of your predicament. 

It hurts, seeing the man you loved, who came to you for medical treatment, or would count on you to watch his back, to slowly slip through your fingers. His green eyes that used to sparkle when landing on you had now turned to look at Merrin. How his lingering touches had all but vanished, leaving your skin feeling colder than normal. What made you feel even worse were your thoughts of leaving. Cal wasn’t your only priority, you had Cere, Greez, Merrin…but everytime you found yourself forgetting about the pain it seemed to always hit once more full force. 

This is how you found yourself packing your things…not that you had much. Just some extra clothes, some photos of your crew, and some gifts that BD-1 and Cal had given you. Double checking your blaster, daggers, knives, and the case that held your sniper, you found yourself contemplating if you really wanted to go through with this. That was when you realized you couldn’t handle watching the one you love end up in someone else’s arms, it was easier to leave altogether. As quietly as you could, you made your way through the Mantis, memories of your friends, almost family popped up every so often. 

With the ship lights off, you couldn’t be more thankful for your specialized contact lenses. Everyone was sleeping in their quarters…or at least they were supposed to be. You froze as you ran into Greez, and as his gaze landed on you he seemed to deflate. 

“You’re really just gonna leave like that?” He asked, his voice low to keep from accidentally waking anyone up. 

“I’m sorry,” You murmured, not able to look in his direction. “I just…”

“I get it kid,” He sighed. “The others won’t be so happy, but I’m glad I caught you on the way out.”

“I’m glad to have met you all,” You tried to console, but you weren’t sure if you were trying to console Greez or yourself. “I’ll be forever grateful to you and Cere for saving me. Here,” Taking out a piece of paper, you handed it to the Latero. “It's a note, I know the way I’m leaving is shitty, but I couldn’t leave without letting you guys know it was voluntary.”

With that, you disappeared into the night, trying your hardest not to look back.

~~~

You were the first one to leave, and soon Cal found himself watching his crew leave him one by one. He was heartbroken when Greez read aloud the note you left behind, wishing them all the best, and how you were going to a rebel base not too far from where they were. He didn’t understand why you left, or how everyone had accepted it so easily. He wished he could’ve seen you one last time, to ask you why, to plead for you to stay. When Greez finally bought Pyloon Saloon, Cal found himself resenting you slightly. You seemed to be the catalyst for everyone's departure. You were all so happy, why did you have to leave them? Why did you have to leave him? 

When he thought back of his time with you, he felt like he was choking. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw you, or what you last spoke about. Had you scolded him for getting injured? Did you laugh with him over a silly scenario with BD? Or was it that lonely gaze you sent him as he joked with Merrin, not paying any mind to you. Are you happy now? Have you made new friends? Have you found someone to confide in? Cal’s heart hurt no matter how he spun his head around you. Don’t get him wrong, he missed the entire crew. He missed Greez’s cooking, Merrin’s dry humor, Cere…but somehow he found himself missing you the most. How you cared for him so gently after he’d get hurt, how you’d listen to his problems and give advice that seemed far beyond your years. How even if you weren’t used to touch, you’d still allow him to hug you after a long, stressful mission.  Even with his new crew, he still felt that hollow void that the old crew left in him. No matter how lovely they were, how deeply he cared about them, he couldn’t help but reminisce of the good old days. Trapped in the past that seemed golden. Cal thought that he had been imagining you at first. Depressed after a harsh mission on Coruscant that wiped out his entire crew, seeking solace at Pyloon Saloon with Greez, he hadn’t thought he’d find you here. He felt like he’d stumbled upon an oasis after stumbling through the desert. Have you always looked so ethereal? Smiling so sweetly as you talked with Greez. You looked different, hair a new length, more mature, happier…have you always looked this happy?

Cal was snapped out of his stupor as both you and Greez turned to face the jedi. He almost got lost once more, wanting to drown in your gaze. He missed the soft way you’d look at him, how he felt cared for and loved with your eyes alone. Instead of that sweet look he was used to, your eyes filled with panic, your posture awkward as you curled in on yourself. The same way you’d react to a stranger. It felt like the dagger you’d always hide in your boot had managed to pierce through his heart. As Greez greeted Cal, you watched on the sidelines, sipping your drink as you tried to hide from Cal’s piercing gaze. 

How long has it been since you last saw Cal? It’s been quite a while. You had only planned on catching up with Greez, as you both left on the best of terms, and although Greez tried to assure you that Cal and the others still cared about you and weren’t angry, he seemed a bit hesitant. So essentially you were scared, scared of the repercussions of your own actions. Running away could only take you so far, and if you ran enough you’d end up right where you started. And you ended up running straight back to the problem of why you left. Your body tensed as Cal took a seat beside you, not aware he had already finished talking with Greez. Anxiously, you peered up at the red haired man through your eyelashes, unsure how to take his blank gaze, or the way your name gently fell past his lips.

“How have you been?” Cal asked. He couldn’t wrap his head around the various emotions you managed to stir up. Sadness, bitterness, longing, anger, regret. 

You shrugged, looking down at your drink as you stirred it, “I’ve been alright. Doing runs for the rebellion and all that. Thought I’d take a short break to check in on the old geezer.” Cal chuckled slightly, wishing for the awkwardness to dissipate, wishing for what you had to come back. “How about you?” 

“Could be better,” He hums, eyes never leaving the side of your face. Drinking in your profile as you shied away. You could tell something had happened, there was a darkness in his eyes, that shine you remember had dulled and you felt your heart break. He didn’t elaborate past that, and you knew better than to pry. A short silence washed over you, awkward, but Cal felt his heart thrum steadily. “I missed you.” You couldn’t stop yourself from looking up to him in shock, mouth slightly agape as you struggled to wrap your head around the vulnerable moment.Pushing past the way you wanted to run, having closed yourself off once again after you left the Mantis, you once again found yourself struggling to let yourself be vulnerable. But the sad puppy-like eyes Cal was sending you made you push past that, mumbling that you missed him in return.

“Why did you leave?” He asked the question you hoped to never go over. 

Once again you found yourself battling the raised walls you put up, unsure if you wanted to actually confess the true reason. Instead, you settled for a watered down version. “I guess I felt a bit left out. Like an outsider I suppose. So I decided it was best for me to leave…” 

“Left out…?” Cal couldn’t help but repeat in a whisper. Guilt suddenly consumed him, his brain finding every time he remembered seeing you on the sidelines, smiling at the moment you had witnessed. Or how you’d slink away, no one trying to stop you as they all laughed about something he couldn’t even remember. It…it was his fault.

“It’s none of your guy’s fault,” You consoled, a bitter smile lining your lips. “I should’ve spoken up about how I felt, instead I ran away like a coward.”

“But I should’ve noticed-” You quickly shut him up with a swift kick to the shin and a lighthearted glare. He gave an overdramatic wince as your kick could barely be described as a kick, more of a light tap. But he felt his heart warm as you were once again slowly opening up to him. 

“Not. Your. Fault.” You spoke sternly. “You always were so quick to take the blame.”

“Wanna help me find a gyro module for old times sake?”

~~~~

You forgot how easy it was to love Cal Kestis. That night when you left, you knew you’d always love him, he has his own special spot in your heart. But over the years those feelings were buried under layers, like sediment. Whether it be adrenaline from missions, celebration with new friends, or the death of a crew member, you find yourself focusing on other aspects of life. You hadn’t planned on running into the now infamous jedi, but even so, you hadn’t expected those old feelings to rupture forth like an exploding volcano. His boyish smile sends shockwaves to your heart. His gentle touch helping you drop down a small cliff makes you yearn to give him a hug and melt in his arms. His compliments on your skills making you puff your chest a little. It's scary how one person has so much control over your feelings, but you also miss the feeling. 

It all comes hurtling down at once when he starts going on a tangent about Merrin. It started with you asking about her and Cere, and now he won’t shut up about her growth in the time you left. You felt stupid, stupid that your heart still managed to cling to the hope that he’d felt more for you in some way. Of course he only loved you as a friend, and you were grateful, but also downtrodden. Though this time Cal seemed to pick up on your spaced out look, gently calling your name.

“What’s wrong?” Cal asked like the caring person he was.

You snapped out of your little bubble you didn’t even realize you put yourself in, bringing your gaze to the concerned one of your friend. “Nothing, I’m glad she’s doing well,” You said with a strained smile. It was left at that as both you and Cal explored Koboh, avoiding raiders to the best of your ability. Exploring the Basalt Forest, you found yourself looking at your surroundings in awe. You loved exploring different planets, watching the flora and fauna interact, from ice planets that had plants still managing to cling to life to desert planets that had a variety of animals that had adapted to the harsh climate. If you hadn’t been taught to kill from a young age and forced to be an assassin, you would’ve loved to have been a researcher. 

Unbeknownst to you, Cal was silently watching you fawn over every little thing you stumbled upon. Pointing out a bug you’ve never seen before or trying to pet those birdlike creatures that would try to charge at you. He could only watch in awe, seeing you in a completely new light. He never fully comprehended that you had a love for wildlife, or just anything that wasn’t human at that. You had always fawned over BD, leaving him feeling a bit left out, but happy the little droid made you happy. And now seeing you do the same for any animal, plant, and even some bugs…he never knew the extent of your love. Making him realize that this entire time, he only knew you through the lens he set for you. A very Cal centric lens. 

Has he ever really known you? All of you? There’s only one way to find out, and that was to get to know you. All of you. From your best aspects to your worst flaws. And as you both sat on the edge of a cliff, Cal couldn’t stop himself from watching you. The way the sun shone down on you, from your hair shining brilliantly to the way the sun made your eyes pop, he couldn’t get enough of you. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder and Cal couldn’t agree more. His eyes followed as a small gust of wind blew your hair out of place, and without a second thought, he gently brushed your hair back in place, admiring your startled look. 

So many emotions overtook him. There was a warmth to your presence, whether that be through the force or not. In fact, he didn’t really care, he just wished he’d never have to be devoid of the feeling again. And as you looked at him, neither of you backing down from your little stare off, Cal felt something selfish grow within him. He wanted you to join him again, he wanted you to be there to patch him up like before, to fight by his side, to hold you close for comfort. In fact, he can’t remember why he stopped doing that, why he let you both get distant. As these selfish thoughts and desires grew, he couldn’t stop his eyes from dropping to look at your lips, they looked oh so inviting. 

You felt your heart skip a beat as Cal’s eyes dropped for a few seconds. No, no this wasn’t right. He clearly loved Merrin, so why was he staring at you like you had hung the stars and moon? Why was he leaning in closer? Why could you feel his breath hit your face, why is he closing his eyes? This is what you’ve always wanted, so why were you panicking? Why did you push him away, causing him to give a hurt and concerned look. 

“I-I’m sorry,” Cal stuttered. “I…I should’ve asked.”

“No, its, I,” You stumbled, trying to put together a sentence with your currently scrambled mind. “What about Merrin?”

“What?” He asked, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “What about her?”

Now you were the one giving him a confused look, “You clearly love her.”

“What?” Cal could hardly believe his ears. His heart dropped when your face crumbled into a tired look, releasing a long sigh as your eyes trailed back to the beautiful scenery around you.

“The way you talk about her, look at her, interact with her…it's obvious how much you care for her,” You explained. 

“Because she’s my friend,” He countered, grabbing your hand that lay on your lap. The anger you had always felt about the situation started bubbling up, your eyes squinting into a sharp glare as you grip on his hand tightened into an almost bruising grip. Your frustration made clear in the tears that started to well up.

“So then why did you forget about me!” You snarled, letting go of his calloused hand and putting some distance between you both. Your vicious look dissolved as tears rolled down your cheeks, pulling your knees up to your chest and buried your face, not wanting to see Cal’s hurt look. “We were so close, but then all you paid attention to was Merrin and I felt like an outcast. Like I didn’t belong with the crew anymore.”

You tensed when he put a hand on your back, trying to comfort you, but instead of pulling away, he pulled your curled up form into his side, holding you as you cried. “I’m sorry,” He whispered into your hair, holding you tighter. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know you felt that way.”

“I-its not y-your fault,” You stuttered through tears. “Instead of telling you I just left.”

“You should’ve never felt like that to begin with,” He murmured, his own eyes watering at the thought of you feeling alone like that…all because of him. 

“It's not like you can read minds,” You grumbled, sniffling as the tears slowly started to end. 

“Well…” 

You elbowed his side while trying to stifle a laugh, “Shut up, you know what I mean. It’s not your job to keep tabs on how everyones feeling at all times.”

“But I care about you,” Cal stated, pulling away enough to face you. He finds himself brushing your last few tears away, his palm resting against your cheek. “If I knew you felt like that I would’ve done something.”

“I know,” You murmured. “But we can’t change the past. What’s happened, happened.”

Resting his forehead on yours, you felt your breath hitch as Cal let out a frustrated sigh, “I’ll make it up to you.” You felt your heart stutter when he opened his eyes, determination shining clearly. “I promise.”

“I’m sure you will,” You replied, a small smile forming. Getting to finally vent out your problems seemed to have lifted a weight on your heart you didn’t realize was there the entire time. Leaning in, your heart jumped as Cal placed a sweet kiss to your cheek, standing up quickly and holding his hand out towards you. You found yourself pouting inadvertently, but taking his hand nonetheless. As he pulled you up with ease, a mischievous smirk tugged at his lips.

“How about we start tonight?” Cal asks. “I have an idea of where to start.”

“Okay,” You agreed. “Lead the way.”

Things might not have been perfect, and soon Cal will continue his journey, but for now, in this moment, everything finally fell into place.

[flightlessangelwings]

Ktober 2023 Day 7- Slow and Soft

Cal Kestis x gn!reader

Word count- 1.5k

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), fwb, hurt/comfort, mutual pining, feelings, no use of y/n

Notes- Cal my sweet baby boy I love him so much!!! Prompt list made by me! This definitely will not be the last time I write for him cause I just love him so much!! Set closer to the second game where he's a bit older. Enjoy!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so please follow that too and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on my new fics!

~

Working for Saw Gerrera was tough, there was no doubt. But, the sacrifices were worth it to keep the Empire at bay. Things got better though when a cute, red-headed jedi joined up. He was as powerful as the stories said, and you and Cal Kestis became quick friends among the chaos of the world around you.

It started by accident; you and Cal would come to each other for comfort and to offer support after missions, and things blossomed before you each realized it. The two of you would lay together for hours in the evenings, just embracing each other, and sometimes more. Neither of you knew what to call what you had, so you left it unspoken.

One particular night, you were in your quarters when Cal knocked on your door. When you opened it, he looked defeated, and bruises littered his face.

“Cal,” you breathed, “Come in,” you ushered in inside and closed the door, “What happened?”

Cal grunted as he settled himself in a chair and exhaled deeply, “Got ambushed,” he sighed as he closed his eyes, feeling safe for the first time that night, “We lost too many today.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, not knowing what else to say as you grabbed your med pack and dabbed some bacta patches on his face. When Cal winced in pain you furrowed your brows, “Sorry,” you repeated.

“Thanks,” he breathed your name as he gave you a soft look. It was always a relief to Cal to come back to you, even if neither of you expressed your true feelings in words. What started as something physical quickly grew to more for him, but he kept his mouth shut.

“I’m glad you’re here, Cal,” you said, “I don’t know where we would be if it weren’t for you.”

Cal looked at you with a pleading look in his eyes and a hint of a smile on his face, “Always happy to help,” his voice was low as he knew exactly what you meant. Having a jedi on your side sometimes made the difference between life and death, and he was a powerful ally to have. 

But sometimes you worried that Cal did too much for everyone else, neglecting himself in the process. You let out a sigh as you placed the med kit to the side, “Let me take care of you, Cal,” your tone was hushed as you brushed a lock of hair off his brow, “You carry too much with you. Let me help you tonight.”

He groaned your name softly as you straddled his waist and ran your fingers along the tight muscles of his neck. You always had a way about your touch, and it made Cal melt under your hands every time. You made him feel safe, and he hoped you felt the same way about him.

You hummed softly as you watched Cal’s eyes flutter shut. You ran your fingers down the sides of his neck and squeezed the tense muscles in his shoulders. As you did so, you leaned forward and placed soft, light kisses on his forehead and temples. Cal’s hands rested on your hips as you slowly rocked them on his lap.

Cal moaned your name as he felt himself starting to harden underneath you.

“Shh,” you cooed as you continued to place feather-light kisses all over his face. Your hand stopped kneading his muscles as instead gently held onto his shoulders as you kissed your way to his lips. Once there, you took them with your own in a soft yet passionate kiss. He immediately parted his lips for you to deepen it, and in response you rocked your hips just a little bit faster.

As your tongue danced with Cal’s, you grazed your hands down his torso and slipped them underneath his shirt. He shuttered into you and you felt goosebumps erupt on his skin as you tickled him. Cal’s grip on you tightened as he felt your hands run back up his body and land on his chest. You gave his pecs a soft squeeze and savored the low moan that Cal let out.

Breaking away, you tugged his shirt up and off his shoulders, and Cal took the opportunity to do the same to you. But, before he could move, you crashed your lips into his once more. This kiss was still slow and soft, but the desperation was there still. You felt Cal’s hands slide up and down your sides as you rubbed his nipples with your thumbs. Your hips continued to rock and back and forth, teasing him as he hardened more and more underneath you.

“Babe,” he breathed as you broke the kiss and started to nibble your way down his neck, following the same path with your mouth that your fingers did before.

“I’ve got you, Cal,” you murmured against his skin as you gently sucked at a sensitive spot at the base of his neck, “Let me take care of you today,” you repeated your words from earlier, but this time in a lower tone.

“You always take care of me,” Cal whispered as he cradled the back of your head with one hand and wrapped his other arm around your waist.

“And I always will,” you moaned as you kissed your way back up and took his lips with yours once more.

His moan was stifled by your lips, but the way his cock twitched underneath you told you what he wanted to say. Breaking away once more, you lifted yourself up just enough to tug at his pants. Cal immediately got the hint and helped you yank them down before removing your own pants. When you settled back down, it was skin to skin, and it made both of you gasp.

Every time it felt like the first time with him. Every touch always felt electrical, like it jolted your heart awake from its slumber. Cal’s warm skin lit a fire under your own and when you bucked your hips against his length, it sent a wave of pleasure up your spine. Your mouth dropped open, but before you could let out any sound, it was his turn to capture your lips in a heated kiss.

As your lips locked, you lifted your hips just enough to position yourself over his cock. Cal fumbled around blindly as he helped you, teasing your entrance with his fingers for a moment as he did so. He laughed into you as you let out a little yelp of surprise at the feeling of his fingers against you.

“I’ve got you,” Call mirrored your words as he guided you back down on his cock.

Both of you gasped loudly as he slowly pushed into you. Inch by inch, you lowered yourself onto Cal’s lap, taking him in as you did so. There was no rush, you had all the time in the galaxy tonight. And you liked taking it slow with him, savoring every little feeling every inch of him. You grabbed onto his shoulder to steady yourself as your hips met his once more, only this time, Cal was deep inside you.

“You’re amazing,” he murmured as he kissed your eyebrow softly.

Your eyes fluttered open, and you hadn’t even realized you closed them. But the way Cal looked at you made your heart skip a beat. Without another word, you kissed him deeply, tangling your tongue with his as you lifted your hips just an inch or so and lowered back down again. Both of you groaned into each other as you repeated your action. Again and again, you rocked yourself against Cal, feeling the jolt of pleasure that shot up your spine as you took his entire length in.

Cal moaned your name as he wrapped his arms around you, running his hands along your back in a comforting motion. You leaned forward and rested your forehead against his and mirrored his actions. It was slow, yet full of emotions. Cal gently thrust his hips up to meet yours and soon you both found a rhythm together as you rode him.

“Cal…” you moaned as you felt the familiar tingle build up from deep within you.

“I know,” he grunted softly, “Me too.”

You sighed as your moans started to get louder from your approaching climax. And Cal’s matched yours as he sped up just slightly. The two of you clung to each other, only needing a few more thrusts for your peaks to hit one right after the after. You crashed your lips together as you came together, spilling yourselves against each other. 

With one final exhale, you fell forward, but Cal caught you, wrapping you securely in his arms as you nestled yourself in the crook of his neck. His softening cock stayed inside you, but neither of you cared to move. You both were too comfortable, too content to even think about moving. Tomorrow would bring a new challenge- it always did- but for now, you and Cal could stay in comfortable quietness.

[thedaughersofferrix]

Birthdays

(work is not nsfw, but this blog is generally intended to be 18+)

synopsis: cal forgets about his birthday. you don't.

pairing: cal kestis x gn! reader

content warnings: pining, fluff, reader is a jedi

word count: 1.5k

a/n: something short and sweet to say happy jedi survivor release everybody. game looks amazing & i'm so happy to see cal again. might be a part 2, but i'm not sure atm

if cal kestis has a million fans, then i'm one of them. if cal kestis has one fan, then i'm them. if cal kestis has no fans, that means i'm dead.

-

Cal decided that fighting the Empire would be a priority in his life five years ago.

After he destroyed the holocron so the force-sensitive children in the galaxy could live in peace, that was his vow.

The Mantis crew got to work; blowing up Haxion Brood bases and wiping out legions of stormtroopers at a time. The fight thrilled him and every battle only left him in anticipation of the next.

It got to the point where he struggled to think of anything but the fight. Every thought was the next move, their wrongs and the perpetrators. The scars, the injuries and the losses continued and Cal never wavered.

He knew it was an obsession, but he just couldn’t help it. It was a need, etched into his soul and a part of his identity. His was Cal Kestis. The rebel Jedi, the most wanted man in the Empire. And the most dangerous.

Then he met you. 

Well, he met you again, because he’d met you years ago, back when the temple on Coruscant was a Jedi temple. When Master Tapal was alive and little Cal’s mind couldn’t even fathom an Empire taking everything from him.

You’d been his crèche-mate and friend, long before either of you had been padawans.

In between lessons, you would spar or lounge in the dining hall, where most of the other younglings liked to loiter. He formed a puppy-love crush on you that made his Master chuckle. It’s only natural, Cal. The feelings will fade with time. He has half-right, Cal supposes.

He remembers vividly the last time he saw you when he and Master Tapal were minutes away from loading onto a cruiser with their clone troops. Thinking back, he’s embarrassed by how hesitant he was to leave you.

Don’t get all sentimental about this, you told him wisely. We’ll see each other when we get back.

It was so hard to tell himself you were dead. 

Cal Kestis was the last living Jedi, fighting against the Empire that deemed his kind a traitor and punished them for crimes they never committed.

You had died, so had your master and so had everyone else he once knew. That had been difficult for him to accept.

Merrin and Cere understood the pain and that helped, at times. Though sometimes he didn’t want to understand. He wanted to see you, feel your arms embracing him and hear your voice in his ear. He didn’t talk about you to them though. He wanted something for himself, a little what-if to hold on to during the nights he felt particularly melancholic. 

Then came his trip to Segra Milo, to speak with Saw Gerrera about his next move.

By that point, the Partisans recognised him on sight and offered him only a nod of acknowledgement when he passed by. 

There you were, in all your glory. Older, a bit more rough around the edges (like himself) and even more attractive than you’d been about nine years ago.

When the two of you locked eyes and time bowed at your feet, to allow you both this moment of silent disbelief.

“Cal?” you had whispered. He whispered your name back and you smiled widely. 

You embraced him like he had been so desperate for you to do. And he heard your voice, the one that had previously only reached him in dreams.

“I thought you died,” you told him.

“I thought you died,” he said, in a single breath. Emotion threatened to explode from his chest until Saw Gerrera cleared his throat.

“I hate to break up this lover’s reunion,” he said. “But we do have a war to fight.”

“Tonight,” you whispered into his ear and he felt like a padawan with a crush again.

Sure enough, the two of you made a rendezvous under the moonlight. The cavernous, dangerous terrain of Segra Milo felt so inviting that night.

You explained to him that you and your master had been ambushed by your own troopers. You and your master were separated when they received the orders and by luck, you weren’t the one in a room full of clones. Quietly you found an escape pod and left for the nearest planet. You cut your padawan braid and disassembled your lightsaber on the same day. The kyber crystal that powered it hung from your neck, hidden behind layers of clothing.

“One day I watched them string up a man for dropping his drink on a trooper's foot,” you recalled to him. “They claimed he had done it as an act of civil disobedience and that it was anti-Imperial activity. I rebuilt my lightsaber and started looking for the Rebellion the same day.”

You were the same person he remembered, only better. Now you were stronger and smarter, without losing your humanity. 

The next day, you were separated again. You were travelling to Devaron to provide the Partisans there with support. He tried to go with you, but you sagely reminded him of the danger of two Jedi being found together.

You exchanged comm links the night prior and hugged tightly before you boarded your ship and he the Mantis. It reminded him of the one you gave him before what he thought had been your demise. He prayed he wouldn’t have to remember this hug the same way. 

“Until next time, Cal,” you said, hopeful and bright.

“Until then,” he replied, leaving you with a smile.

The next time he saw you, he thinks he might have hugged you tighter than he’d ever hugged anyone.

There had been a next time, he thought. There could be another one.

And there was. In fact, there had been many next times. He couldn’t count on his hands how many times he had gotten to see you. On the good days, you spoke and drank together. On the days, you fought and mourned together. But you were together and it was so much easier than it had been before.

Recently he’d probably gone the longest without seeing you, which made him realise the effect you had on him.

The Empire was still are the forefront of his mind, almost always. It consumed his actions and words. Slowly but surely, however, you had been weaselling your way into an important position in his life.

He didn’t care about the Empire when he was looking at you and he may as well have not met an Inquisitor when he’s hearing your laugh. You were there and he didn’t need to think about any of that.

Then, when the gap you filled was empty again with your departure, he was consumed by the need to fight once more.

He forewent sleep and food, only collapsing when his body refused to preserve and eating when the hunger pangs came. Fight, fight, fight, was all he could think about. It never really occurred to him to celebrate his victories or even do simple things, like check the date. 

But you returned to him again and reminded him of what he was missing.

“A win like this is worth sitting down for,” you insisted, sitting beside him at the fire. “Besides, today is special.” His brow furrowed. 

“What’s today?” he asked you, which made you laugh, loud and beautiful.

“You can’t be serious, Cal.”

“I am! What’s today?”

“Cal,” you sighed. “It’s your birthday.”

His mind went blank as the gears started to turn. “Oh,” was what he came up with. You laughed at him again.

“Did you really forget?” you asked him. 

“I haven’t celebrated it in years,” he admitted and you frowned, making him wish he lied. He hated it when you frowned, though you did make a cute face when you were angry.

“Well we’ll have to make up for that, won’t we?” you announced, standing from your seat and downing your drink. “Stay here for a second.” He nodded and you slipped away.

You returned not long after, with something behind your back.

“Close your eyes,” you instructed. He looked at you curiously. “Just do it.” His eyes fell shut. He heard you shuffling and muttering something to BD-1. “Put out your hands.” He open one palm and pushed it toward you. “Both of them.” He opened the other. He felt a weight in his left hand, then in his right.

“Open.” 

Cal was greeted by a cupcake in his left hand and a multitool in his left.

“I tried to find a cake, but apparently Devaronians aren’t very fond of them,” you explained. “And this,” you pointed to the multitool. “I bought this for you back on Corellia, but you were gone before I could give it to you. It’s got everything you need to keep Beedee in working order.” BD-1 chirped happily at that.

Cal was starstruck. He hadn’t experienced softness like this since before the Clone Wars. Suddenly his chest felt fuzzy and his face was hot. 

“Thank you,” he managed. “No problem,” you answered breezily.

He shared some of the cupcake with you, but you insisted he had to eat at least seventy per cent of it. The multitool found a place on his belt, though with the amount of combat he saw, he’d be using it soon.

You sat beside him at the fire on his birthday and Cal Kestis felt hope again in a way like he’d never felt before. Hope for not just the present, but the future.

[frostycatblr-fandom-files]

Sentences For WIPs Game

I was tagged by @ulchabhangorm (thanks lovely! 🩷) to participate in this little game where the idea is to make a 24-hour poll including every WIP you want to work on, and have people vote for one of those WIPs. Then once voting has concluded, you write one sentence for every vote of the WIP that received the most votes.

Thing is: I have so many WIPs that I hope to write within the year (if I can!!) that I'm going to offer as many as the poll will allow, AND, I'll "cheat" a tiny bit and write a sentence for ALL of the WIPs that get a vote. ;)

No Pressure Tags: @eclec-tech @dystopicjumpsuit @clonethirstingisreal @returnofthepineapple @dragonrider9905 + @lonewolflupe @the-bad-batch-baroness @523rdrebel @wings-and-beskar @eternal-transcience

I'll put what's cooking under the cut so anyone who's interested can get a taste of what's to come, only if you're so inclined~ Those marked as request fics will have the details purposely sparse or vague to keep a bit of the surprise alive.

Lost on Life Day: *Request fic. Combination of bad weather and a "small" natural disaster leads to a bit of Huddling Together For Survival between a certain cobalt blue captain and the trusted friend he's harboring feelings for. Because he's put her in danger, Rex thinks it might be best to let a certain loth-cat out of the bag... (Oh, and he should probably mention that it happens to be Life Day, too.)

Cyber Crush: *Request fic. While doing a bit of the ol' “slightly questionable research”, Wrecker and the reader “meet” each other over the galaxy-wide-web, where Wrecker answers a few… concerning questions. Worried he’s accidentally helped a Seppie, he asks Tech to run a thorough background check and finds out that the reader isn’t a Seppie at all. She’s just a writer!

Stuck in the Stacks: *Request fic. Modern AU, where the reader and Wolffe live in the same, small mountain town that is no stranger to the odd bout of bad weather. They've been passively flirting for so long, but never seem to make much progress... When a truly bad storm rolls in the first time Wolffe comes to pay her a visit at her job—hoping to check out a few books for a "little project" he's working on [C'mon, it's Carol's request fic, of course I'll give this reader a fitting job!]—it forces them to stay after-hours. Alone. ;)

No Foxes In This Hole: Longform story I started 10/10 of last year, series link here. Reader's new to Coruscant after seeking a big life change, and boy is she gonna find one. The crimson commander will too, for that matter!

Seaglass in the Surf: Hiding out on a remote, backwater planet, Din Djarin makes the acquaintance of a woman who frequently makes trips to the shoreline just to scour through the sand for something. He offers to help, thinking she's looking for something she lost. Turns out she's looking for things that others have lost, for a rather different reason than the one Din initially suspects.

Your Body Remembers: Experimental fic without a single line of dialogue where you as a local living in hardship on an Imperial-controlled planet find a little more than just hope in the man who, at first, will tell you nothing more than he's a Mandalorian is the only person who has answered your desperate plea for help.

Yellow Blankets, Yellow Blades: Reader makes their favorite Jedi fugitive something rather special to keep in the room he's always been offered whenever he needs a place to lay low from the Empire. While the item brings up many memories that are perhaps a little too bittersweet, Cal, who hasn't seen a lot of genuine kindness like yours since the start of the Purge, can't believe how lucky he is that you went through all that trouble, just for him.

Like Family: Star Wars AU. Feral asked you a very important question recently, and he's been riding on Cloud 9 ever since! Trouble is... he's having difficulties finding the right time to tell his brothers the happy news. The way you and him go about letting the loth-cat out of the bag together isn't exactly what you had planned, but hey; you're still warmly welcomed once they know you're officially going to be part of the family!

Hunting the Nexu: An absolute mess in the outline stages right now, HtN is a TBB AU that covers events from both season 2 and 3 between Crosshair and a mysterious hired gun that agreed to help his brothers and sister with rescuing him from Mount Tantiss and the Empire.

Glory In Gold: Hired to teach Cody Mando'a under false pretenses for an Imperial mission, it isn't long before it's revealed to you the real reason you're here once, sometimes twice a week, on the Empire's dime, is personal. But it's not long after that that the reason changes again. To something more... intimate.

Loving A Lazarus Species: You've been mourning Tech's death for close to a year. Maybe more. The denial that this death is real runs deep; chasing down the ghosts of ghosts when it comes to rumors your love still lives. Lucky for you, the brown-eyed, bespectacled man proves you have no need for the morally murky research you've turned to in your desperation: proving he's harder to kill than initially believed... [We're doing a Tech Lives AU!!]

Dressed to the Ninety-Nines: You and the bandana-wearing sergeant have to feign being on a date for a "special assignment". Hunter effectively proves that he sure cleans up well and behaves like a perfect gentleman, the whole nine. But is there really a "special assignment", or is this all part of some elaborate bet?

[grievedeeply]

Can I request a Cal x reader, where they were both working for Saw but got split up during the job on Coruscant. So we know that in rogue one Saw was hanging out on Jedha, so what if reader is out in the descent hearing to Saw’s place but runs into Cal instead? Idk I just need some Cal in my life. Thank you so much 💜

i'm loving all of these cal requests!!! this is such a cute idea :") hope you enjoy!

gn!reader | tws: death, SPOILERS FOR THE BEGINNING OF JEDI SURVIVOR + JOIN MY NEW TAGLIST!!!

you're here, we're here — cal kestis

you wondered if working for saw gererra was the right thing to do. of course, he fought for something bigger than himself, but you knew of the consequences of this sort of thing. if you were to be captured by the empire, you'd be killed. they'd keep it quiet, but you knew your death would come swift if the imperials were to get their hands on you.

you were scared of death. wasn't everyone, to some extent? you wondered what the afterlife would hold for you. was there even an afterlife at all? the act of dying wasn't what scared you, not really. it was mostly leaving those you loved behind. gabs, the twins, bravo. you met them all through saw gererra, and that was your favorite part about working for him. the people. their kindness and generosity, their determination to make the galaxy a better place. not just for themselves but for everyone around them. it was good to see something other than hate and cruelty remained.

they were your family.

until they weren't.

the job on coruscant had gone horribly wrong, in the end. what was supposed to be a simple extraction of information turned into a firefight.. and before you knew it, more than half of your squad was gone. in the confusion, you'd gotten split up from cal, bode and bravo, and you could only assume they were all dead, too.

lately, saw had been hanging out on jedha. even before your mission, he had started setting up some operations there despite the ever growing imperial presence.

so.. you returned to jedha completely empty handed, and down an entire team. your family. gabs, the twins.. you watched them die, struck down like they were nothing. they had names, they had lives and friends and they were loved. but no one understood that. all the empire saw was insurgency. all that inquisitor saw was cal, the one who had gotten away from her all those years ago.

you remembered the look on saw's face once you stepped inside. his grin immediately dropped and without a moment's hesitation, he took you by your shoulders and pulled you into his arms. you couldn't cry, not anymore. the entire time you were maneuvering through the streets of coruscant your eyes were welling with tears. the tie fighters shot at you as you escaped the planet and went into the stars.. and by the time you were in hyperspace, your face was soaked in tears. you sobbed the entire time, all the way up until your arrival at jedha, days later. you couldn't risk leading the empire back to saw, so you took a few rotations on some backwater planet to collect your thoughts— but what was left to think about?

you thought of gabs. her smile, her strange sense of humor that somehow always made you laugh. the twins and their insatiable appetite.. and the warm hugs they provided you when you were feeling down. bravo, who gave the best advice out of anyone on the crew. bode, your sparring partner. cal.. your best friend.

cal.. he was smart. 'he could've gotten out,' you told yourself. if he was captured he could've escaped. he was talented, he was brave. he was kind.. so kind. you remembered his hands on your arms, running them up and down your skin as a way to calm you, to ground you into the moment. it was a routine before you went out together. he would smile that same, big dumb grin, and reassure you that everything would be okay.

but that wasn't the case. not this time.

cal was gone. his beautiful.. gentle smile was gone. you would never see him again. he was dead or captured and you were the only one that made it out. he deserved to see the galaxy at a better state. he deserved to live. he deserved to grow old. thoughts of him and the rest plagued your mind like a curse, and no matter how many times you tried to push them and what happened away, they would come crawling back.

your work on jedha was light. saw was giving you time to recover, letting you decide if you even wanted to go back into the field in the first place. not only had his operation suffered a major loss.. but so had you. you had to watch it happen. until you made your choice, he had you doing whatever you needed or wanted. you could choose to sit around if you needed to. he had plenty of people to cover for everything. he knew you needed your space, so.. sit around you did.

you'd take walks occasionally, go to nearby cliffsides and listen to the stormtroopers beneath you chatter about whatever was going on in their lives. the familiar hum of their electro riot batons went in and out of your mind. they spoke of promotions, of their coworkers and their bosses, their plans, how much they hated jedha and wished they were stationed somewhere else.. but as they talked.. you envied them.

they were blinded to the empire's cruelty and injustices, but you? you had lost to them. these people knew nothing about the kindness your friends, your family, had shown. they would get what was coming to them.. but for now, you took solace in their stupidity.

this was one of those trips. you stood from your spot on the cliff, brushing off your pants with your hands, watching as dust fell from them back onto the sandy rocks underneath you. the stormtroopers were so oblivious to their surroundings, it almost made you laugh. you turned your back to them, ready to begin up the path you had come down before.

the trek was a decently long one. it was enough time away from base to clear your head and let your thoughts sit for awhile, and that was okay with you. you let yourself mourn through this walk.. and that was okay.

you groaned as you pushed yourself up onto the ledge, making steady progress towards base. you wondered if there was an easier way to get back.. but this distance was something you enjoyed. the silence was nice. it was good to be on your own sometimes, even if plenty of people had offered to come with you, you always turned them down. you knew they were concerned, but you needed time to be by yourself.

you brought yourself to your feet after climbing up, kicking a few of the rocks underneath your feet over the edge of the cliff. you looked down at the ground below you, wondering how far the drop was. you were surprised you hadn't slipped off, yet. you chuckled to yourself at the thought. you knew that, if cal were by your side, he would save you with his force magic. no matter how much strain it might put on him.. he would do it. there was no doubt in your mind.

but cal wasn't around.

a chirp in the distance, coming from the direction you were heading. you furrowed your brow. this path was supposed to be clear. who would saw send out at this time anyways? the sun was setting in the distance, the hues of pink and orange blending into the desert out beneath the cliffs. had he planned some sort of covert operation—

you stopped in your tracks. a droid..

cal's droid.

you'd recognize those colors anywhere. he stared up at you for a few moments before rushing towards you, climbing up your legs to rest on your shoulders. bd-1's head rubbed against your cheek almost as though he were some sort of animal. you grinned, leaning towards him as your hands reached for him. you took him off of your shoulder, holding him in front of you.

you frowned. how had he gotten here? did cal make it out? that wasn't possible. you would've heard something from him by now, anything—

"buddy, wait up!" you heard a voice call from down the canyon, and you froze, eyes wide. cal's voice. were you hallucinating? was this a dream or a nightmare? were you dead? why would bd-1 be here if you were dead?

before you could think on it any further, cal slid around the corner and turned to face you. his expression immediately softened as soon as he laid his eyes on you, and bd-1 slowly slinked out of your hands and back onto the ground, ready to watch your reunion.

he let out a shaky breath, one that even he could barely hear. his head felt so loud. after you'd gotten separated from the rest, he thought you were dead. he normally tried to stay as positive as possible.. you were clever, intelligent and knew just how to survive.. but it was a feeling in his gut that he couldn't shake that you didn't make it out.

he blinked a few times before he took a few hesitant steps towards you. your eyes filled with tears as you stared at him. he was real, he was in front of you. he was alive. before you knew it, cal's arms were wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his chest for a tight hug.

a soft sob escaped his lips, but he nuzzled his face into your neck, and all you could do was return the gesture. his crying pulled you back into reality. he was alive. he was okay.

it felt like an eternity, trapped in each others arms, soaking in the warmth that filled your chest as you reveled in his presence. you never wanted him to pull away, afraid that if he did he would disappear into the sunset behind him. but he pulled away, his hands resting on your shoulders as they always did.. and he stared deep into your eyes.

he pressed his forehead to yours, his fingers ran circles over your skin. what he always did to keep you calm.. and you couldn't help but cry. you let your eyes close, your hands reaching out for the fabric of his shirt. he was alive, and that was all you cared about. despite the insurmountable loss you'd faced that day, cal was alive and in front of you.

"i'm so happy to see you." you heard him say, and you nodded. his voice was coarse, rough against his throat. had he cried as much as you had? had he struggled with adapting to a life without you? without everyone? he'd mourned for you. you took his hands off of your shoulders, taking them in your own. this time, your thumbs ran over the back of his palms, caressing him as though he was about to break.

"cal.." you whispered out his name, your lips pressed into a thin line to prevent yourself from crying. his hands found your face, pulling you closer.

your heart ached in your chest, your breathing heavy. you let him touch you, both of you falling completely silent. finally, you opened your eyes, only to be met with his staring back at you.

he'd been looking at you all this time. desperation filled his vision, and his lips pressed to yours in a gentle, warm kiss. it didn't last for very long, and you resisted the urge to pull him back in as soon as his lips left yours. "i'm sorry," cal muttered, averting his gaze from you to look at the floor. "i don't know what came over me." he chuckled, breathless, feeling incredibly awkward as he sunk into himself. his cheeks were a bright red. he could feel the heat against his skin.

though, when he returned his eyes to you, you wore a smile. your face, still covered in tear stains, had a genuinely happy expression written on it for the first time in a long time.

you never thought you'd think of him in this way, but as you thought on it, you supposed you already had. you yearned for him in a way you did for no one else. you wanted him by your side. you swallowed, embarrassed.

"it's okay," you reassured him verbally before taking his hands in your own once more. they were rough, but surprisingly gentle. "i.. didn't exactly mind." you told him, glancing away from him as you spoke. it was strange to be this vulnerable, but you were glad it was with cal and no one else. he was so special.

he cared so much for people.. for you.

"really?" he asked without missing a beat, a youthfulness in his voice you had never heard before. you nodded, and he kissed your forehead, a sign of relief escaping his lips. he thought he had ruined everything between the two of you before even getting to talk to you.

"why.. why didn't you tell me?" you asked after a brief moments hesitation. of course, you were glad he was alive and in front of you, but you couldn't help but to ask. cal sighed, "i tried. comms were out. i tried to track you. i didn't find anything and i thought-" he paused, licking his lips. his throat suddenly felt dry. "i thought you were dead."

you couldn't even say anything, your mind focused only on the fact that he tried. he tried to reach out to you and that was all that mattered. you knew he would never leave you behind. "i had to.. find an old friend of mine. we had to fix up the ship." he swallowed, scratching at the back of his neck. "i'm sorry, i should've tried harder-"

"cal," you cut him off before he could say anything else, "all that matters now is that you're alive. you're here. we're here. you tried.. and that means more to me than you could ever know. believe me.. i tried to find you, too." you told him, eyes searching his face. "it's okay." you spoke up again, and his gaze finally met yours.

your breath hitched in your throat. he was beautiful. inside and out. he had a heart of pure gold. one that you hoped would never fade, that you knew would never fade.

bd-1 nudged at your foot before you could sink further into your daydream, and he climbed up onto his shoulders. you grinned at him, and then shifted your eyes to cal.

"come on," you murmured, taking his hand in yours. "i want to show you something."

the place you had mourned for him. yes.. but now, it was the place with a view you would share.

tags: @starwalkerwriting

[meshla-cyarika]

Memories

Pairing: Cal Kestis x gn!reader

Word count: 204

Tags/warnings: fluff, established relationship

Summary: you recall the memories you have of your lover cal, because it's all you have left of him.

A/N: It's short and rubbish, but I couldn't get this idea out of my head.

--------‐-----------------------------------------

You remember alot of things about Cal Kestis. You remember how he was the first person on Bracca you laid eyes on when you ended up there, the both of you only being fifteen years old. You remember how you would stutter everytime he talked to you, whilst you were too busy focusing on how soft his lips would feel agaisnt your own. You remember the flustered mutual confession of desire for one another. You remember how the only time you would feel safe on the scarpyard planet was in the sanctuary of his arms in the confinement of his single bunk.

And you remember when the Inquistors came, killed the man Cal and yourself considered as a father figure and nearly killed Cal after he revealed himself to be a Jedi...You remember how you were left to pick up the remaining pieces of your life and abandon the planet you considered as your home for the past three years.

But now, five years after the events on Bracca took place, you realise you dont need to cling so desperately onto your fading memories, when the very person who caused some of your most happiest moments now stands infront of you once again.

"....Cal?"

[dystopicjumpsuit]

Fic Masterlist

Hello there.

Thanks for stopping by! This is my masterlist of Star Wars fics. I'll update it as I publish new works. Please note that most of my fics contain mature content and are intended for readers over 18. Enjoy, and feel free to drop a comment any time; I love connecting with fellow readers and writers. May the Force be with you!

Updated Jan. 22, 2025

Fic requests are currently closed. Outstanding requests are actively being filled. 🩵

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🍋 indicates mature content 🍋

My AO3

Longfics

Stars Beyond Number. (AO3 link, complete)

Soldiers. Heroes. Deserters. Traitors. They've been called many things. As the Galactic Empire rises from the ashes of the Republic, a small group of clone troopers and their allies will find a new identity: Rebels.

Echo, Rex, and Gregor are on a mission to save as many of their brothers as they can. The task is daunting, and their friends are few. But from these small and desperate beginnings will come a spark of resistance that will set the galaxy ablaze.

Cerra Kilian GAR Personnel Datafile

Cerra Kilian Portrait and Character Info

Martyrs and Kings. (AO3 link, complete) Star Wars meets light academia. A post-stasis Kix longfic. Clone medic Kix is a man displaced in time. Captured by Separatists and put into cryostasis when he learned the truth about the clones' inhibitor chips, he awakens fifty years after the end of the Clone Wars. The Republic is gone. The galaxy has changed. And now, the last clone trooper searches for answers with the help of a New Republic historian.

🍋 "Martyrs and Kings AND ZOMBIES!!!" 🍋 - a spooky, sexy one-shot sequel.

Jedi

Cal Kestis

Request: "Cuddles of consolation after a bad day" (GN)

Dark Side

Savage Opress

Part 1: Between the Shadow and the Soul

Part 2: No Other Way

Part 3: Without Knowing How

Part 4: So Close (December 14)

501st Legion

Torrent Company x Reader

Headcanons: Watching a Scary Movie Holovid with Torrent Company

Rex x Reader

🍋 "No Sleep Till Coruscant" 🍋

Request: "Soft looks while cuddling" (GN)

Jesse x Reader

Jesse First Kiss Ficlet (GN)

🍋 "In Which Jesse Gets What He Deserves" (AKA the cuddlefuck fic) 🍋  

🍋"She's Such a Scream"🍋  

Hardcase x Reader

"A Question of Seman-dicks" (GN)

"Hey, Sunshine 💙" (GN)

Dogma x Reader

Quote prompt ficlet (GN)

Tup x Reader

Tup fanart!

🍋 "Do It Again" 🍋

🍋 "Tup à Trois"🍋

The Bad Batch

Hunter x Reader

First kiss ficlet (GN)

🍋 "I Wish All Readers a Very Hunter Life Day"🍋

"Like Home" (GN)

"You Were Warned" (GN; art & drabble)

Crosshair x Reader

"I Know." (GN)

Request: "I'm Right Here." (GN, followup to "I Know.")

"The Plant Prowler of Pabu" (GN)

🍋"Too Early"🍋

Tech x Reader

Request: "Feeling the rumble of their chest when they talk while cuddling/Needing their cuddles even though they have something else to do" (GN)

Request: "Putting your ear against their heart" (GN)

Wrecker x Reader

Request: "Trying to crawl under their shirt" (GN)

212th Attack Battalion

Commander Cody x Reader

"Someday" (GN)

🍋"The Night Before Someday"🍋 (GN)

Boil x Reader

"Double, Double Boil and Trouble (Part 1)" (GN)

"Double, Double Boil and Trouble (Part 2)"

"Double, Double Boil and Trouble (Part 3)"

🍋"Double, Double Boil and Trouble (Part 4)🍋

Art: "Boil deserves to feel pretty" (mildly 🍋. Let's say 🍊)

🍋"Double, Double Boil and Trouble (Part 5)"🍋

Waxer x Reader

"The Sixth Language (part 1)"

"The Sixth Language (part 2)"

"The Sixth Language (part 3)"

🍋 "The Sixth Language (part 4)" 🍋

"The Sixth Language (epilogue)"

104th Battalion - Wolfpack

Wolffe x Reader

"Sweet as Summer Rain"

🍋"Just a Little Bit More"🍋

Coruscant Guard

Commander Fox x Reader

🍋"In the Matter of Marshal Commander Fox vs. the Stocking Kink, the Court Finds the Defendant Filthy."🍋

Hound x Reader

“Watch and Learn, City Boy, Part 1: Summer" T version | 🍋 M version 🍋

🍋"Watch and Learn, City Boy, Part 2: Autumn"🍋

Other Clones

Alpha-17 x Reader

🍋"Who's the Alpha Now?" 🍋 (GN)

🍋"Who's the Alpha Now? Part 2"🍋

Neyo x Reader

🍋 "Everybody Hates Neyo." 🍋

🍋 "Everybody Hates Neyo Round 2: Matchmaking Boogaloo" 🍋 (reader got converted to OC)

Neyo first kiss ficlet (GN)

Bacara x Reader

🍋"Nobody Loves Bacara"🍋

Mayday x Reader

Accidental first kiss ficlet (GN)

"A Match for Mayday, Chapter 1" (collaboration with @nika6q)

"A Match for Mayday, Chapter 2" 

🍋"A Match for Mayday, Chapter 3" 🍋

🍋"A Match for Mayday, Chapter 4" 🍋

🍋"Life Day Comes but Once Each Year… but Mayday Doesn't"🍋

O'Niner x Reader

🍋 "Nine Lives for Sergeant O'Niner" 🍋 (cowritten with @anxiouspineapple99) 

Sev (RC-1207) x Reader

"Are You Sure About This?" (GN)

🍋 “Turn It Up When You’re Gone.” 🍋 Part 1

🍋 “Turn It Up When You’re Gone.” 🍋 Part 2

🍋 “Turn It Up When You’re Gone.” 🍋 Part 3

Mandalorians

Jango Fett x Reader

"Promises and Pastry"  

Fenn Rau x Reader

🍋 Fenn Rau Thots 🍋

"The Protector of Chopper Base" (GN)

Request: Falling Asleep in Each Other's Arms (GN)

Bounty Hunters and Mercenaries

Fennec Shand x Reader

🍋"Spotlight"🍋

Please don't put my work through AI programs or repost elsewhere. Also, if you’d like custom dividers, feel free to send a request via DM or Ask; I love designing these! But please don’t use mine without permission.

[multi-fan-dom-madness]

Surprise self-rec time! Pick 3 of your favorite things you’ve written and share them here, then put this in the inbox (anonymously or not) of your fellow writers to spread the positivity and help celebrate already written fics 💞

oh goodness this is so neat! okay okay okay

Balance - Cal Kestis x gn!reader enemies to lovers angsty smut slow burn

What You Need - Echo x f!reader x Hunter no clonecest smut with feelings (multiple parts! link is for part 1)

Up All Night, Neon Lights - Fives x gn!reader fun casual smut

for anyone interested, my main masterlist is here and always remember reblogs are love <3

[edgessunflower]

Early bracca mornings

Pairing: Cal Kestis x GN reader

Description: You and Cal share a quiet morning on Bracca before your lives change

You always enjoyed looking at the light blue,clam yellow,or misty gray sky in the early morning hours on Bracca. You woke up to the beautiful and lovely but also rare yellow and orange hues in the early morning sky smiling at the colors shining through the window but also at the beautiful redheaded Jedi you fell in love with a 4 months ago after moving to Bracca from your home planet of Kashyyyk due to the rise of the empire and the passing of you father. You started working as a scrapper when you weren't working at your job at a small cantina and soon through your newfound friend Prauf you met Cal developing feelings for him not too long into knowing each other with Prauf slowly pushing you to tell each other and the two of you started dating. You smile on the memories feeling a gentle squeeze on your waist as he turns holding you to him with his chest against your back still asleep with a few hours left before you both had to get up and go scrapping for the day enjoying the quiet sounds of cal snoring and the warmth from the sun shining through the window and his body heat as you fall back asleep with your head on his chest under the covers.

[goosewriting]

Glad to hear requests are open! I just wanted to say I love your inquis!cal fics :D

I was wondering if you could write something with Cal? Lovesick Inquis!Cal hunting an in-denial-of-feelings-for-him Jedi!reader is always a favorite of mine. Literally just Cal pinning the reader down and insisting how they’d make such a great team if only reader would join him. Just anything really, being at his mercy- ugh.

Feel free to write it or not, I don’t mind, just figured I’d put it out there :)

Loth-cat and Mouse

summary: as reader escapes from an inquisitor, old sparks might reignite despite the danger.

relationship: Inquisitor Cal Kestis x gn!Jedi!reader

warnings: mentions of death and murder 

word count: 3.6k

A/N: top tier request anon, tysm! writing the whole force shenanigans was my favourite part tbh. i’ve been meaning to explore that aspect for so long, battle of the will and all, and i’ll definitely be doing it again! tell me what you think pls c: 

[all masterlists] 🪶 [star wars masterlist] 🪶 [ao3]

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

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Living in hiding when the galaxy thinks you’re dead is easy. It comes with the privilege of being virtually invisible in a galaxy that seeks to oppress and exploit every living soul.

Ever since escaping the Clones turning on the Jedis as a Padawan, and the rise of the Empire, you’ve lived in hiding, as most of the surviving Jedis did. And for a long time, you were successful. That is, until an Inquisitor picked up your scent and started hunting you down.

This went on for two years, and you somehow managed to evade her, always being a step ahead. You only came face to face with the Inquisitor twice: the first time, when you looked the purplish skinned Mirialan in her yellow eyes for the first time, and the second when you knew what you had to do.

Sitting in the dusty booth of a run-down tavern somewhere in the Outer Rim, your shoulders slump forward as you remember how you had felt her life essence vanish through the Force like a cloud of spores disappearing, carried away by the wind. You knew you couldn’t get through with it with your own hands, so you rigged an old warehouse with so many explosives that not even the strongest Jedi Master would be able to escape. Using yourself as bait, standing by the entrance to the building, that was the last time you’d see her. Your plan worked, and the whole thing came down on her. So much so that it almost took you out as well, but you survived despite the injuries. You hope that in the eyes of the Force, you had freed her from her pain. Maybe somewhere deep inside she was thankful.

Or that was what you’d keep telling yourself to be able to sleep at night. 

It’s been a couple of months since then, and you’ve doubled your efforts at staying hidden, as you don’t think you can take another Inquisitor hunt. Not because you can’t win against them. You already did, and that’s the problem. When you first realised an Inquisitor was trailing you, you were afraid. But now, after defeating her, the thought of going out there and turning around the hunter and hunted roles suddenly seems… exhilarating. But that would make you no better than a Sith, would it? Your face contorts in discomfort as you can practically hear your Master’s disappointed voice at what has become of you.

“I thought I taught you better.”

You sigh. Yeah, you did. But you trained me to be a peacekeeper, not an outlaw. It’s a kill or get killed world out here. It probably always has been, but we were shielded from it, had a roof over our heads, clothes to wear and food on our plates. You smile bitterly to yourself, the hood of your cape casting a shadow over your face as you twirl a toothpick between your fingers. Who’d have thought that we had it better during the war than afterwards. 

Your motions come to a sudden halt and you involuntarily snap the thin piece of wood in two as you feel the air in the tavern change, turning impossibly cold. The constant chatter doesn’t stop though, the few customers currently in the tavern continue on unaware of the shift. 

Rising up to your feet quickly but without making a noise, you beeline towards the bar, turning a sharp corner into the kitchen and then towards the back exit you know of. You can hear some modulated voices back in the main room; Purge Troopers. And where there are black armoured troopers… you don’t need to look to know what else is there. 

Once out of view from the main area, you quicken your pace, exiting the place with one goal in mind: getting as far away as possible. With your mind reeling, you skilfully evade every person and droid in your way so as not to make a fuss or cause noise by something falling to the ground. Mentally, you go through every interaction from the last several weeks, trying to find where you did something careless that gave you away. But you’ve been so thorough with your recons, moving every few days, never staying in one place too long. 

How did they find me? 

This question echoes through your mind over and over as you take step after step. The destination of your brisk walk doesn’t really matter, you just need to put as much distance as possible between yourself and whatever hound they’ve sent after you. 

It isn’t until you suddenly feel your burning lungs and aching legs asking for a break that you realise how far you’ve walked, and at what speed. You ran all the way back to your hideout. Agh, stupid! you reprimand yourself, smacking your hand to your forehead. it must have been an automatic response to come to your current “safe spot”, but if they find you here, you wouldn’t be able to come back to retrieve your supplies. In the few days you’ve been here, you’ve collected several machinery parts that you were planning on selling, but that plan just went down the drain. So you pack up whatever you can carry, mentally saying goodbye to not only the place and everything you’re leaving behind, yet again, but also the potential money you could have made which you desperately needed. With a sigh and a mental promise to do better next time, you head out to the port. Not the nearest one, though; the troopers probably have that one surrounded and monitored. You’re going to the one two towns over. It will take a while to get there, but it’s the safer choice. 

The whole way there, you do your mental meditation exercises to keep your Force signature hidden. The familiarity of it also helps you calm down a little and recentre yourself. 

After what felt like half an eternity, you’re finally at the port, and you go to buy a ticket off the planet. You’re relieved that at first glance there don't seem to be any Stormtroopers doing patrols out here. There is a bit of a line at the ticket shop though, so you stay a little further back by some crates and equipment waiting to be loaded into the cargo ships. Hiding out of sight, you wait until you can approach the window directly. 

One by one you watch the people in the queue leave, and when there’s only one person left, you take a quick look around to make sure no Imperial has arrived. The coast is clear, and you take a step in that direction. Except that your boots remain stuck to the ground. All at once, you’re surrounded, no, enveloped in that cold, eerie aura from the tavern earlier, which holds you in place. You take a gulp of air much like a fish out of water, and you try to turn your head around when you hear a modulated chuckle behind you, but you’re frozen in place.

“Going to the port further away even though it cost you more time. Bold choice,” the modulated voice of a man says, and your heart feels like it’s about to leap out of your throat. 

This is it. They found me, you think to yourself, trying your hardest to slip your hand to your belt underneath your robe to reach your weapon, but to no avail.

“Don’t worry. All the troopers are probably still by the tavern searching the whole village,” he says, and you can feel yourself slowly being turned towards him. You were ready to spit in his face and curse him out, but the image before you catches you completely off-guard. While the red visor of his sleek helmet is practically unmistakable regarding his line of work, he threw on some sort of poncho to cover his armour. It’s almost comical, and were it not for the imminent danger you find yourself in, you probably would have laughed a bit.

“Everything has been so boring lately,” he continues, rolling his head back and to the side to make his point. Then, his visor locks onto your face, and he stays silent for a moment. “When I read what you did to the Eleventh Sister, though, I knew I had to come check you out for myself.”

“W-why,” you manage to croak out. His Force grip is starting to get tighter and it's getting harder for you to breathe.

He slightly shrugs, one of his shoulders leaning onto the big supply crate that shields you both from view. “As I said, I was bored. And you get a head start, so…” He pulls the poncho over his head, letting it fall down to the ground unceremoniously. “Entertain me.” 

As he turns on his heels, he finally lets go and you can fill your lungs again. You don't know what just happened, but you’re not about to waste this chance to escape, so you beeline to the ticket shop and buy your way off the planet. Before boarding the ship, you take one last look over your shoulder; the Inquisitor is nowhere to be seen. Or felt. 

From then on, a strange game of Loth-cat and mouse starts. You’d escape, the Inquisitor somehow following your trail, even though you took great care to stay anonymous. Only days after arriving at a new location, you’d find his Purge Troopers looking for you. Every time you thought you might be able to get a break and rest at one place a little longer, the Inquisitor would reach out in the Force, poking at you ever so slightly, just as a reminder that he’s still there. 

You’re exhausted.

People who aren’t Force-sensitive emit a certain aura, while those who are able to tap into and manipulate it, manifest in different ways. Most seem to have an extra set of long, immaterial limbs, able to scan their surroundings. Sometimes it’s like a flowy cape, fluttering around the person with grace; sometimes it’s more like thick and heavy vines, dragging themselves around and scratching everything with their thorns. 

Inquisitors have a very strong and rather aggressive presence in the Force, but you’ve never quite felt a signature as distinctly intense as the one currently hunting you. His whole essence feels like an icy mist, spreading quickly around him and seeping into every corner, looking for his victims. It starts out slow, unnoticeable at first, but by the time you realise what’s surrounding you, it’s too late. Once the victim is found, the mist solidifies into ice, sticking their feet to the ground, rendering them unable to move. The Inquisitor stretches out his arm in their direction, and the mist becomes more dense, constricting their airways, squeezing out every last drop of oxygen agonisingly slowly. 

At some point, his presence starts haunting you at night. In the few hours of restless sleep you allow yourself while on the run, you find him to be there more and more often. Worn down by how long the chase has been going on, your guard starts to fall. Suddenly you don’t dread it anymore, the cold shudders as you walk through a market, and the icy mist following you into your dreams. Not just his Force signature but his whole presence as a whole, it’s so strong, it’s almost intoxicating. The more he keeps finding you, the more you keep catching yourself almost looking for his presence.

Much to your surprise and not delight, you realise his manipulation game is working.

It doesn’t take much longer until you finally come face to face with the Inquisitor. You know it’s too late to escape him, and you don’t know if you can hold your own against him in your current state, but you have no choice.

As if the exhaustion wasn’t enough, you’re currently stuck in a tropical forest, and you can feel the dirt and debris after running through the thick vegetation sticking to you, a thin sheen of sweat on your skin. The only sound you hear is your ragged breathing and the sounds of the jungle. You know the Inquisitor is not far behind you, but he’s been moving surprisingly silently given his armour. More than ever, he feels like a predator. 

Arriving at a clearing in the forest, you stop. Deep in your gut you can feel it: it’s time. Whatever happens, only one of you will walk out of here. So, after taking a deep breath and wiping off your face with the back of your sleeve, you turn around. 

All this time, you’ve tried not to imagine what he looked like underneath his helmet, as you knew it would only humanise him and make it harder for you to fight the man. So when you’re met with a face instead of a red visor, you’re surprised. Whatever mental image you might have had of him, you were not expecting him to look as handsome and young as he did. There’s also a strange air of familiarity which you can’t place, but decide to ignore for the time being.

Sizing each other up from either side of the clearing, you merely stand there, looking at each other. He moves his hand and you instinctively reach for your sabre, but he casually adjusts his gloves, weapon stil sheathed.

“You know,” he says with a slight chuckle. “I only ever came after you because I recognised your name. I personally requested to pick up where the Eleventh Sister left off.” 

Your brows furrow at his confession, which feels very much misplaced. He talks like he’s expecting you to be flattered or honoured at his words.

You deny ever having seen him, and he seems a little dejected at that. Kneeling down, he picks a little blue flower from the shrubs, and takes a couple steps in your direction. Offering it to you, he calls you by a nickname that you haven’t heard in what feels like several lifetimes. 

That’s when you suddenly remember: you had met him once, on Coruscant, when Padawans from all over the galaxy would go to the temple and be shown the archives. You were from two different home planets, there was no reason for you to have ever crossed paths, yet fate would have you attending the tour through the archives on the same day. All Padawans got to spend some time together, mainly to train and spar with each other. You can’t really remember anyone else you met that day, and the events are pretty blurry as is, but you do distinctly remember a Padawan with wild copper hair and freckles that looked like the constellations the Jedi taught you about. You and him would steal glances at each other the whole day, until finally he approached you, offering you a little white flower he picked somewhere. Where exactly, you had no idea, given the lack of green spaces on the planet. 

“Cal. Cal Kestis,” you say as his name comes back to you, like it’s always been on the tip of your tongue, dormant. 

“Ah, so you do remember,” he smiles a little at that. You don’t take the flower from his hand though, so he flicks it away without a second thought.

”What did they do to you…” You shake your head in disbelief.

You mentally compare the sweet little boy with fiery hair that you had met that day, and try to superpose that image with the man now standing before you, and it’s just not possible. It’s not the same person any more. His eyes, once the colour of oceans and clear skies, now glow an angry yellow, his gaze piercing right through your soul.

Since coming face to face in the clearing, Cal’s presence in the Force has been as unmovable and strong as ever, so you had no choice but to mentally and emotionally shield yourself, like hiding behind a rock in a snowstorm, trying to avoid the relentless icy wind clawing at your exposed skin. But now that you know who he is, you’re certain there has to be something left, even if very deep within him. So you dig deep in your own heart for that short connection you had felt with him that day on Coruscant, and bring it back to the surface, holding onto it for dear life. You dig out the warmth, the safety, the certainty that those days used to have, using them as a shield to part the cold wind as you take step after step in the metaphorical snow towards Cal. 

Feeling the shift, Cal straightens up.

“What are you doing?” he questions.

You don’t answer immediately, holding his harsh gaze the best you can.

“I’m reaching out to you,” you say after a moment, the light of your Force finally strong enough to allow you to approach him without being knocked back by his icy aura. The dry leaves crunch under your feet as you take a step towards the Inquisitor.

To an outsider, this interaction would have looked like an intense staring contest. But if you allowed your dynamics in the Force to have an impact on the physical world, you two would have flattened the terrain around you both in an instant. 

During this battle of will and determination, which seems to go on forever, you shorten what little distance separates you from Cal. His whole body is tense, trying to keep his wits as you’re blinding him with your light. You wonder if there is a part in him that wants to give in, and that’s exactly what you’re trying to find within him. Stretching out your hand, you carefully cup his face. He flinches slightly in surprise, but doesn’t pull away.

“It’s not too late, Cal,” you say. Your voice is soft, contrasting the intensity in both your gazes. “Please come back.”

Now that you’re so close, you decide to drop the metaphorical shield you were holding up, exposing the warmth and joy from before to him. His icy wind almost knocks you back a couple of steps, but you let it wash over you. You inhale sharply as you let everything he’s throwing at you bounce off; his hate, his  anger, his pain. 

“Stop,” he demands almost breathlessly.

But you bring your other hand to his face too, holding him, as you cling onto the memory of your first meeting with him and try to emanate that light through his own shield wherever you find cracks. And you succeed, feeling how, for a split second, all his walls come crumbling down and all you’re left with is just a boy, scared and alone.

“Stop!” he yells, as his own hand reaches out this time, swatting yours away and harshly grabbing you by the throat. Pushing you back several steps until your back hits a tree, he holds you there, your own hands clawing at his wrists in an attempt to ease the pressure of his grip.

“Stop,” he repeats, much more collected this time. 

“You’re so deep in that dark cave, you forgot there’s an exit at all,” you say. “You don’t have to stay there, you know. Let me help you get back to the light.”

“Why would I want to leave?” He chuckles darkly. “Let me show you the way into the dark instead. There’s more here than you could ever know, so much power to be tapped into that you’re missing.”

He takes a moment to study your face, loosening his grip on you ever so slightly, which allows you to take a gulp of air. 

“Come with me,” he offers. ”You’ve already proven how powerful you are. Imagine how much more we could both accomplish if we joined forces.” 

“Me? Become like you?” You scoff. “I’d rather you kill me now.”

Cal hums, as if considering your suggestion for a moment. But he remains silent, with you still pinned to the tree. He doesn’t let go of you nor does he tighten his grip, leaving the next move to you instead. Your head spins, trying to figure out what to do.

He raises a brow at you, urging you to do or say something. You frown, conflicted.

“All this time I thought you were just playing a twisted game, coming after me until you got bored. And then you’d kill me. Now you’re trying to recruit me?”

“If I wanted you dead, you never would have even seen me coming,” he retorts with a bit of a snarl.  

Then he reaches out for the lightsabre at your belt, and one of your hands protectively grabs onto it before he can. Cal gives you a smug look as that’s exactly what he wanted, and placing his hand over yours, he guides your weapon up, pressing the unignited end into his ribcage. He’s essentially saying, ‘if you don’t want to come with me, you’ll have to kill me right now, right here.’

“Quite the conundrum we find ourselves in, huh,” he says after a moment, giving your hand a squeeze. “What’s stopping you?” 

“…Hope,” you answer rather unconvincingly, cringing at how corny it sounds.

He scoffs and lets go of your hand, which falls to your side still holding onto your weapon.

“Don’t worry, I can fix that.” 

Cal suddenly leans in, placing a lingering kiss on your cheek. 

“I’m looking forward to our next encounter,” he whispers into your ear, and a shudder runs down your spine. 

He lets go suddenly, your legs giving in, and you fall to the ground with a grunt as you take a couple deep breaths now that your airways aren’t constricted anymore.

As he walks away, Cal doesn’t turn back once. He picks up his helmet where he discarded it earlier, putting it on and disappearing amongst the trees.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

A/N2: part 2 anyone? 👀 let me know how you’d like the story to unfold!

A/N3: the amount of times i’ve written reader getting choked by inq!cal…….. i think i need to unpack something there

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[rugaru]

Hello all! :)

I got an anon request for a Cal Kestis x daughter!reader so that’s currently in the works right now. Stay tuned for that!! I’m loving how it’s going so far and I think you’ll enjoy it. Here’s the summary and a bit of a sneak peak type thing:

Dad!Cal Kestis x Child!Reader (gn reader)

I tried not to use Y/N at all but I think there’s a couple here and there.

Summary: You’ve always been told you’re stubborn, by almost everyone you knew, ever since you were young. But after you and your dad, Cal, are rescued by two strangers and sent on a wild goose chase, you’re bound to rebel against your father’s requests. Little do you know, he’s more than correct about this new planet and he’s definitely not happy when he comes back to the Mantis and finds your prolonged absence as a welcome.

Cal Kestis could go on, and on, and on about how unbelievably stubborn his child is. He’s 100% certain they learned this from both himself and Prauf, however, he would never verbally admit that he was part of the reason. Prauf on the other hand? He’d admit it until his last breath with not a hint of shame. And although Cal was proud of them, their stubbornness wasn’t always a great quality. Especially not when they were using it against him. But it’s not like he could really be mad, I mean, he was the same way at their age, and even still now. It runs in the family he supposes. Unfortunately, both he and his child learn just how quickly their stubbornness can get them into a rather sticky situation…