Creative Frequency

Hi I'm Eve and I write fanfiction | 90's kid | Currently into Love and Deepspace

[creative-frequency]

The Writing Masterlist

✨ Find me in AO3 here ✨

🧡 It’s always okay to reblog and reply to my writings. Thank you for reading and the support!

→ Baldur’s Gate 3 → Destiny → Detroit: Become Human → Dragon Age → Final Fantasy XV → Genshin Impact → Love and Deepspace → Marvel’s Spider-Man → Star Wars: Jedi: Fallen Order

Click for Masterlist below

Baldur’s Gate 3

Astarion x Reader: Contradictions and Other Counter-Measures (Multi-chapter / Work in progress) Astarion x Reader: “Everyone wanted to give up on me, except you.”

Gale x Reader: Neck Scratches

Raphael x GN!Reader: Damned Fools Raphael & GN!Reader: Paid the Price Raphael x GN!Reader: Put on Some Clothes Raphael x GN!Reader: Seal the Deal with a Kiss Raphael x GN!Reader: Oranges

SERIES: Raphael x Fem! Reader: The Devil Wears House Slippers

Act I: The Bargain Act I: The Ring Act I: The Words Act II: The Dinner Part One | Part Two

Destiny

Cayde-6 x Reader: The Trigger (Multi-chapter / Work in progress) Cayde-6 x Reader: Destcember 2018 Day 2 Cayde-6 x Reader: Destcember 2018 Day 3 Cayde-6 x Reader: Destcember 2018 Day 4 Cayde-6 x Reader: Destcember 2018 Day 16

Shaxx x OC, Cayde-6 x Reader: Her Crimson Bond

Guardian!Uldren Sov: Destcember 2019 - A Long Shadow

Uldren Sov x Reader: “Just stay away from me, okay?”

Detroit: Become Human

→ Masterlist

Dragon Age: Inquisition

Just a Dream (Abandoned)

Dragon Age: The Veilguard

Lucanis Dellamorte x Reader: Late Nights & Delayed Confessions (Multi-chapter)

Tag: Rook’s Wyvern

SERIES: Lucanis Dellamorte x Rook: The Spellblade of House de Riva

Midnight Song and Dance Part 1 | Part 2 Two Crows in the Pantry Coffee and Compartmentalising

Final Fantasy XV

→ Masterlist

Genshin Impact

Alhaitham x Reader: “You know I love you, right?”

Ayato Kamisato x Reader: “Stop hogging the blankets!” Ayato Kamisato  x Reader: “Are you seriously still angry at me?”

Diluc x Reader: “You shouldn’t have done that.” Diluc x Fem!Reader: Wine, Grapes and Fire (Multi-chapter / Work in progress)

Kaveh x Reader: “Come to bed.”

Neuvillette x Reader: “If I could go back in time, I would still choose you.”

Tartaglia | Childe x Reader: “No one can know about this.” Tartaglia | Childe x Reader: “I know it’s the middle of the night, but can you come over, please?”

Zhongli x Reader: “You’re going to get yourself killed.” Zhongli x Reader: “Give ‘em hell.”

Love and Deepspace

Headcanons: Bothering Them at Work Headcanons: Furniture Shopping with Them

Caleb x Reader: Camping

Rafayel x Reader: Fierce kiss in Verona Rafayel x Reader: Starfish

Sylus x Reader: Artificial Height Equality

Xavier x Reader: Scoop of Vanilla Ice Cream

Zayne x Reader: Morning Kisses Zayne x Reader: An Unexpected Kiss

SERIES: Caleb x Reader: Wonderful Nothing

01 Scrumptious

Marvel

Peter Parker x Reader: Spider Spotting (Multi-chapter / Work in progress)

Star Wars

Cal Kestis x Reader: DEAR STAR SYSTEM (Multi-chapter / Work in progress)

Cal Kestis x Reader: Leaving Bogano Cal Kestis x Reader: “I’m trying to sleep.” Cal Kestis x Reader: “You’re going out dressed like that?” Cal Kestis x Reader: “It’s okay to cry.” Cal Kestis x Reader: “If I die, I’m going haunt your ass.” Cal Kestis x Reader: “Come over here and make me.” Cal Kestis x Reader: “Can I do your hair?” Cal Kestis x Reader: “How long have you been standing there?” Cal Kestis x Reader: “I think I’ve always loved you.” Cal Kestis x Reader: Ranunculus Cal Kestis x Reader: Indecisive Cal Kestis x Reader: “You’re cute when you’re all worried.” Cal Kestis x Reader: Arms Tonite Cal Kestis x Reader: “I could think of worse ways to die.”

Cal Kestis x Former Jedi!Reader: More Than Rumors in Cantinas

Cal Kestis x Inquisitor!Reader: Rescue

Inquisitor!Cal Kestis x Reader: “Oh no, you’re not dragging me into this.”

SERIES: The Technician & The Inquisitor

Inquisitor!Cal Kestis x Reader: Free Time Inquisitor!Cal Kestis x Reader: Overtime Inquisitor!Cal Kestis x Reader: Bright Time Inquisitor!Cal Kestis x Reader: Party Time Part 1 | Part 2

Prompt Lists

Sleeping Wolf - lyrics

[stonelionhearts]

sometimes i wonder if we have forgotten that sharing creative work is, fundamentally, a bid for human connection. like I'm not posting art or fic for 'engagement' i'm posting it looking for other sickos to play with! i'd be making it anyway for my own gratification because there's something wrong with me, i'm sharing it hoping we can have something wrong with us together <3

[wonderstruck]

If you see this you’re legally obligated to reblog and tag with the book you’re currently reading

[creative-frequency]

The scream I scrumpt when I saw THREE new Rook's Wyvern posts! 🤩

Thank you for the wonderful reads!

You're very welcome! Thank you for reading!

Sorry for taking forever to reply. I was away from tumblr for a long-ish time and conveniently forgot about all the asks waiting. 🙇‍♀️

[creative-frequency]

Here is hoping this year will be a good, uneventful one 🧡

I want to say a huge thank you to everyone who reads my stuff here and on Ao3. I had some big thoughts about how life is so complicated and stressful these days and how, at least for me, fandoms and strangers with mutual interests online make it better.

I've learned not to make any new years resolutions, but trust me, no matter what happens, I'll be cooking something in my wips. Hopefully I'll post something too.

Take care & stay hydrated 🧡

[creative-frequency]

Scrolled back to look at this post from a year ago. Last year had its ups and downs, some steeper than others, but hey, we survived. 💜

My Ao3 stats say I posted 26k words, and it sounds like a lot to me now, though it feels like I barely wrote anything at all. On top of those 26k I have tons of unposted words, so as promised, I did cook last year lol.

Currently, I'm mostly into Love & Deepspace, so most likely will write & post about Caleb and/or Sylus. I have hopes of finishing the self-indulgent Genshin fic about Diluc/Reader too. All the unfinished wips haunt me everyday.

Last year I finally had the time to get into D&D properly too, so naturally I'm in the middle of campaigns both as a player and as a DM. ⚔️🐉

May this year be better for all of us 💜

[lucianhuntress]

Caleb x F!Reader: "Here, let me help you with that garland; unless you want to end up tangled in it again."

Merry Christmas to @creative-frequency 🩷 I haven't written LADS stuff before, so please have mercy.

With a purple garland in your hands, you balance on a step ladder, trying to spin it neatly around the Christmas tree. Caleb tried to offer his help earlier, but somehow you ended up telling him that you’re a strong, independent woman and don’t need his help with everything. Besides, this isn’t your first Christmas decorating a tree.

Now he stands off to the side, eyes half squinting as your attempt at wrapping the garland around the tree is nothing short of a safety hazard.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” he asks, not bothering to mask the amusement in his tone. You’ve let him hold a bunch of decorations in his arms so you don’t have to climb down every time you need more.

“Oh, I’ve done this before,” you scoff, determination sharpening your voice as you try to free the fluffy, sparkly garland after it gets stuck in the needles.

He sighs, shaking his head, and a silvery bauble floats past your eyes.

“Hey!” you protest.

“I could make this so much easier for you,” he muses as the bauble lands gracefully on a branch.

“Show off,” you grumble, tossing part of the garland toward the back of the tree. It lands unevenly. You sigh. Maybe you should have accepted his help after all, but you’re too proud to back down now.

You give the garland another tug, just sharp enough to send it flying back toward you and make the ladder wobble beneath your feet. The garland lands on you, wrapping around your arms and shoulders like a sparkling snake.

Caleb has already stepped closer, one hand steadying the ladder, making sure you stay upright. He’s close enough now for you to smell him; gingerbread cookies you baked earlier. Your cheeks warm, glowing just a tad hotter in his presence.

“Careful.”

“I’ve got it.”

You try to wrestle the garland free, but it only seems to tighten its hold. It finally loosens just enough for you to tug at it gently.

Then you feel his hands, warm and sure, easing around you as he reaches for the garland. The heat of him radiates through you.

“Here,” he says softly, a smile in his voice. “Let me help you with that garland… unless you want to end up tangled in it again.”

And this time, you yield.

[creative-frequency]

Merry Christmas dearie ❤️ I love this. And him. And you. Thank you 🥹

[alonelystargazer]

writing goals for 2026 ✨

to write

[creative-frequency]

That Flins trailer oh my *pearl clutching intensifies*

[creative-frequency]

"Lucanis would strive to reach a sort of friendly understanding with the wyvern. Rook would be heartened to realise this, since normally people tend to avoid their companion." This is so precious! I can easily see this being part of why Rook would fall for Lucanis. I can just picture the meeting with Illario in the coffee shop where Rook can say that they have never been kissed before or that it's been a while since they have been kissed, only in this case Rook hints at how most potential relationships were over before they could start as soon as the wyvern got brought up (meanwhile Lucanis would see the whole wyvern thing as a bonus).

Cue Rook babbling about their non-existent romantic history while making it a point that the wyvern is the most important being in their life.

Cue hearts filling up in Lucanis’ eyes.

“So long story short, a wyvern companion hasn’t exactly helped in attracting romantic attention. Quite the opposite, actually,” Rook finishes the sentence with a grim shade of a smile.

“Unbelievable,” Lucanis lets slip out before the thought can hit a filter, a dreamy smile on his lips.

Rook blinks and blushes. Lucanis shuts up. They both look around Cafe Pietra for an awkward but warm moment. Then Rook starts giggling.

“You’re lucky Baroness likes you,” Rook murmurs.

“Hm. I like her too,” Lucanis replies with a sultry hum.

[creative-frequency]

"Cue missions of taking the wyvern out for a walk. Lucanis would be the first one to volunteer to join them." I love this idea! The idea of Rook regularly taking their dear wyvern companion out for a walk! The idea of Lucanis volunteering to join! Perfection!

What do you think walking a wyvern would be like? Maybe it is less of a 'leash and collar' sort of thing and would be more like Rook riding on their wyvern companion as they just mill about a large area for a while? Imagine Lucanis asks volunteers to join Rook on a wyvern walk, then when he shows up Rook is saddled up on the wyvern and asks if Lucanis would prefer to walk on his own two feet or if he would like to try riding with them.

There are several ways to make the Master Assassin’s knees buckle, and inviting him for an outing with one’s own wyvern companion is one of those ways.

Imagine a ghost of a tear rolling down Lucanis’ cheek when Rook suggests an afternoon in Arlathan forest with Baroness. It’s like he is a boy again, amassing snacks and a sketch book to capture the majesticity of the creature.

Rook would have Baroness saddled up so they can practice a couple of manoeuvres in the different terrain. There is room for Lucanis to climb on and hold on to Rook’s waist as the wyvern glides and climbs the old ruins and dodges tree branches. Should any of the Venatori or other invaders happen on their path, Baroness’ poison and Rook’s bow will make quick work of them.

Rook will let Baroness go explore and, most importantly, hunt for a bit on its own. Meanwhile is the perfect moment to sit down, relax and chat with Lucanis – mostly about wyverns.

[creative-frequency]

"Cue the Master Assassin babbling questions in excitement and wonder. Rook would patiently respond to each and every one." Poor Spite is just going to be so frustrated and shouting in Lucanis's ear about it not being fair that Lucanis is getting to do all of this talking with Rook but won't let him speak (or Spite might be curious about the same things as well and waits until later to start yelling at Lucanis).

Poor Spite is being shown to the sidelines while Lucanis gapes in awe. Being an abomination is old news when there is a wyvern to meet.

It doesn’t take much for Spite to divert its attention from the temper tantrum to this magnificent creature. On some level, Spite would be curious about something Lucanis is so keenly interested in.

And, of course, since it’s Rook’s wyvern, it will be interested in learning about this instrument of spiteful vengeance. May the wyvern become a force to rain death on their enemies. This is something Spite will truly appreciate.

[quiltofstars]

The center of the Milky Way // Alberto Benitez

[creative-frequency]

Wine, Grapes and Fire

Diluc Ragnvindr x Fem!Reader

→ A/N: 1.4k words, visionless reader, slow-ish burn, from strangers to friends to lovers. Sir Darknight Hero makes unintended puns. Vol. 2 here.

Vol. 3 Secret Identity Revealed

Tuesday’s whispers fill the air, The dandelions sway without a care. Lord Barbatos hums a song so sweet, Guiding footsteps, light and fleet. — A verse from a popular nursery rhyme in Mondstadt

The third, rather satisfyingly successful shift at the Angel’s Share ends with you humming a tune as you lock the doors for the night. Diluc hasn’t been in on the whole day, which, you assume, means you have his full trust in taking care of his tavern. 

It feels nice to be trusted and useful, but it also makes the pang of guilt harder to push down. You might have to eventually come clean about “borrowing” the upstairs room.

After checking that no one is around, you once again slip up the stairs to the second floor. The day has been long, though the slow stream of customers barely kept you busy.

Maybe if you have an honest conversation with Diluc, he might let you use the room for the remaining time of your stay in Mondstadt. Or he might not. Then you would have to figure out another solution, likely one that costs Mora. Roiling these thoughts around in your head, you fall fast asleep.

In the small hours of the night, light steps coming from outside seep into your sleep. You have barely registered being awake, when a key enters the lock of the balcony door and turns. The door opens silently and you jump up, fumbling to reach the kitchen knife you took from downstairs for self-defence.

You watch in horror as a tall man fumbles into the dark room, slightly unsteady on his feet. He didn’t break in. How is it possible he has a key? Is this why Diluc said you could only use the room for one night? Had he rented it to someone and didn’t think to tell you because you’re not supposed to be in there?

“W-who are you? What are you doing here?” your voice rings clear in the darkness. 

The man stops instantly and his shape goes rigid. The heavy door closes on its own and the lock clicks shut. The only source of light is the small oil lamp on the bedside table.

“Why are you here?! I-I have a weapon, so don’t come closer!” You try to watch the stranger, hold the knife steady, pointing at him, and turn the oil lamp’s flame larger with your free hand.

The man is wearing a dark mask in the shape of a bird’s beaked head. It looks like a masquerade ball mask that only covers the upper half of his face.

You stand still for a second that feels like hours, staring at each other. Then the mystery man finally grunts in a voice you instantly recognize:

“I’m the person who pays your salary and I’d like to know what the hell are you doing here?”

It takes a moment for your sleepy brain to interpret the meaning of his – Diluc’s – words.

“Wait, what?”

He takes the mask off, knowing the jig is up now. The next step is damage control.

In that moment, you realise Diluc is Mondstadt’s self-appointed protector, the vigilante Darknight Hero. You slap a hand to cover your mouth in shock.

“I’m firing you,” Diluc says, slightly unstable on his feet. For a pyro Vision holder, his tone is pure ice.

You start to laugh hysterically in panic. Keeping this job is vital for your future – a matter of life and death, quite literally. He can’t just fire you.

“No, you’re not, sir Darknight Hero,” you retort back, fully expecting to be combusted into a pile of ash. The cat’s out of the bag now so you might as well fully commit into making yourself an idiot: “Also congrats on the successful pun.”

In that moment, Diluc Ragnvindr also realises you know of his secret identity and curses under his breath. Very ungentleman-like of him.

You place the knife on the nightstand and clear your throat. Diluc folds his arms over his broad chest. He scans over your body and the corners of his eyes tighten. The staring competition goes on until you realise something is dripping to the floor next to him.

“Uh, tabling the firing conversation for a bit, but, um, and I know it’s none of my business—” you start and pause to swallow as Diluc’s glare intensifies, “But I think you’re bleeding.”

A lazy stream of blood drops has followed him like breadcrumbs on the floor. It’s too dark to see where exactly he is bleeding.

“I know.” His tone is sharp as ice again.

Diluc closes his eyes and draws in a deep breath. His body tenses as if in pain.

“Do you need to, um…” You motion towards the bed since there is nowhere else to sit. And try to shoo away the indecent thoughts that combine a bed and Diluc.

Diluc takes a step and makes a sound somewhere between a growl and a grunt. “Since you’re here, mind helping me out?”

Your brows raise in confusion.

“Grab that box. It’s, urgh, a first aid kit.” He grunts and hisses through his teeth as he sits on the bed. Your bed – or technically Diluc owns the bed, but it’s the bed you have laid claim to. You rebuff the indecent, invading thoughts again.

You bring the white box to him. “Who beat you up?”

Diluc glances at you, as if deciding can he trust you with such information. The jury turns slightly into your favour. “I was tailing someone to find their hiding place.”

Diluc sheds his black coat, revealing a short-sleeved white shirt and very fine arms with very finely toned muscles. You shake your head to focus.

“Right. Let me, I’ve got a lot of experience with first aid.” You can’t help the short, condescending laugh breaking free. If only Diluc knew how many times you’ve had to patch yourself up because of a scuffle with a hilicurl or something.

Diluc inspects the look on your face and nods slowly.

For a long moment, neither of you speaks and you focus on treating the deep gashes on his arm. The whole situation is so absurd and numbing that you don’t even know where to start – or know should you start asking for more details. Diluc doesn’t seem inclined to share.

“So your job is at the winery and this… cosplay is a hobby?”

Only Archons know why that is the first question you decide to voice.

Diluc shoots a murderous glare at you.

“Something like that.”

Still not inclined to share. Got it. Maybe a little openness from your end will loosen his lips. And those are some really nice lips. You shift to get a better view before catching yourself. The warm light of the oil lamp really draws out a nice figure of him.

Refusing to think any more about Diluc’s lips, you ask:

“I never told you why I needed this job.”

Diluc raises his brows. You reach for the bandages in the first aid kit.

“Besides that I’m generally too broke to even pay for a room and two meals a day, I need a lot of Mora for my sword repairs,” you explain and let the silence sit for a while as you carefully make a neat bandaging around Diluc’s arm. “I can’t leave Mondstadt without it. It’s… It was a gift from someone important.”

He is quiet for a while, contemplating.

“I see.”

You’re just about done patching Diluc up, so you need to clear out the air before he can leave.

“Sooo… now that we both know each other’s secrets, do you mind me staying here?” you ask nervously.

Diluc sighs, annoyed, but his tone is far from the earlier pure ice. “We will talk about it tomorrow.”

At least it’s not a no.

He glances at the bandages, a surprised expression flashing through his features but reverting to a blank one in a blink.

“Thank you. You’re… proficient,” he says.

You smile a little. “You have no idea.”

You can tell he is about to ask what you mean, but quickly decides against it. You realise you may have sounded a little too suggestive and cringe with that comeback.

“See you tomorrow then. Goodnight.” He gathers his bloody coat and gets up to leave.

“Alright. Uh, goodnight, sir!”

In a few long strides, Diluc is out of the door into the night and you’re left sitting alone on the bed in your pyjamas. Which, you just realise, are buttoned up to a barely decent level, and your pants are backwards.

Great.

—

→ Vol. 4 (Mis)Communication - Coming soon!

Tagging as requested ❤️ @secretlyrexlapis

[creative-frequency]

I've been forgetting to post more Diluc 🍷🍇🔥 and realised the thing is missing from the masterlist too. OTL

Soon™️.

[quietwingsinthesky]

there’s wip (active development) and wip (stuck in development hell) and wip (oh you’re not even getting funding for this one)

[creative-frequency]

Inquisitor!Cal Kestis x Reader: Party Time pt. 2

Word count: 2.6k Pairing: Inquisitor Cal Kestis x Female Reader, who is an Imperial Technician on Nur. Summary: Returning to the airship an Imperial Inquisitor exceeds your expectations. Rated E for mature content, smut with plot. Part 2 of 2.

✨ Previous part ✨ My Writing Masterlist

The door to the shuttle closes with a fizz and along with the heavy mood, a silence befalls. Cal doesn’t seem to be shaken or bothered by whatever happened back at the club, but bugging you is a feeling that you don’t immediately recognize as concern.

Cal hurries into the cockpit before you can figure out how to talk about what just occurred. The ship sets off and you feel somewhat relieved to leave the planet unscathed. In the lounge area, you place the small crystal carefully at the side of the holo table.

Before Cal gets back, you head to the cooking station to get something to do with your unoccupied hands. You’ve always been a better thinker when you have something mindless to use them for – like doing maintenance tasks around the Fortress or fixing droids. After wandering aimlessly and gulping down half a glass of water, you take a deep breath and turn to see the Inquisitor on the dark leather sofa, leaning on his knees and eyes trained on the small crystal. The bubble of concern only bloats more.

“Hey.” Your voice trembles more than you want and you swallow again. Cal tilts his head but doesn’t tear his eyes off the crystal.

You pace closer to him, each step careful and measured. The silken dress swooshes around your shins. “I don’t know what happened back there and you don’t have to tell me, but how are you feeling now?”

After a nerve-wrecking beat, Cal raises his gaze from the holo table and a hint of confusion plays on his features.

“I’m okay,” he replies slowly, apparently unable to believe that you’re asking about his well-being.

You take more tentative steps forward, ready to turn tail at any moment and retreat to the sleeping chamber if need be.

“What is it?” you ask, nodding towards the piece of crystal that Cal is again staring at.

The Inquisitor glances at you and you relax a little seeing how… unaffected he now seems.

“A kyber crystal,” Cal replies coolly.

“What? Really?” You skitter forward to take a better look at the crystal that you just held in your hand. You’ve heard about kyber and its theoretical uses as weapon components, but never seen and much less touched one before – well, apparently until now.

Cal stands up and reaches for his lightsaber. He holds the weapon in front of him, pondering and still inspecting the small crystal just a few feet away.

“What will you do with it?” you question, but hurry to add: “Not that it’s any of my business.”

For a second you think Cal is about to slice up the kyber, but he calmly walks closer to place the weapon next to it.

“Hold on a moment…” He leaves the holo table with a slight touch across your back as he passes. Shivers course through you. You’re still wearing the smooth, light dress and are hit with a sudden urge to change into something else.

Cal returns in a short moment.

“The kyber crystal… It once belonged to this.”

He places a metallic item on the table next to the crystal piece. It’s another lightsaber, you realize, but very different from the one he carries. This one is old and doesn’t look anything like the ones the Inquisitors use. 

Every cell in your body is burning with the question of who did it belong to, but you hold it back. Firstly, because it’d be bad to get messed up in Inquisitor business. Secondly, because you have an inkling that the old lightsaber once belonged to a Jedi of the Republic.

You look from the items to the Inquisitor and find his inquisitive eyes on you. He answers your unvoiced question:

“It belonged to a Jedi called Jaro Tapal.”

You don’t know this name, but it seems to hold a meaning to Cal.

“Why did you retrieve it then?” you ask in a small voice.

Cal looks solemn, but a swirl of emotions churns just beneath the calm facade.

“I shouldn’t tell you,” he finally replies. “For your own protection.”

Dread momentarily fills you and you recognize that the concern threaded into the feeling isn’t for your own safety. You’re worried – actually, scared – that Cal will do something reckless and stupid.

You turn to stare at the innocent piece of kyber.

“I said it before but… I’m really glad you agreed to come with me,” Cal says softly.

“Not like you gave me a chance to say no,” you scoff.

He looks actually dejected, but he steps inside your personal space and you let – no, welcome – him.

“And…” His fingers lightly skim up your arm. “Sorry about what happened at the club. You deserve to be treated better.”

“I’m glad to hear you say that.”

Cal leans towards you and you barely register the touch on your waist when he lifts you to sit on the cool metal surface of the holo table – and not a moment later he is kissing you tenderly. Your heart aches almost violently in reaction.

Your lips touch lightly again and again, and each motion works to ground Cal more back into reality and your presence. His hands slowly get hungrier for your skin. The silken material of the ridiculous dress flows underneath his fingertips like liquid.

Cal slowly, as if begrudgingly, pulls back from your lips, leaving you aching for more.

“Why did you leave?” he asks quietly.

You know what he is asking about. When you jumped away from his arms as if electrocuted and ran half-naked out of his living quarters. Maybe not your finest moment. Still, you don’t know whether to regret it or applaud your self-preservation.

“I’m just a technician,” you reply off-handedly.

Cal doesn’t need to be concerned about your feelings. You’ve known what this is from the start, but you’re still not ready to put your life on the line even for an Inquisitor as sexy and funny as him.

“You give yourself too little credit,” Cal argues with a hint of a smile that is so weirdly at odds with his red-rimmed irises filled with liquid amber.

You scoff. “What credit is there to give?”

“You’re kind,” –he presses a kiss to your cheek– “funny,” –another kiss lands on the corner of your mouth– “very good with your hands…”

You laugh throatily and circle your arms around his waist, pulling him closer between your legs.

“Just being with you is soothing…” he continues, “I guess that’s ‘cause you’re not trying to murder me.”

Your head tilts back. He kisses your neck and it tickles.

“What if I am?” you ask slyly but your voice wavers in rhythm with Cal’s advances. You need to make an effort to breathe.

He pauses briefly before almost lazily continuing to drag his lips across your neck. Warmth floods every spot he touches and it spreads until the feeling covers every inch of you.

“Then I’m already dead,” he murmurs right next to your ear and you shiver.

Cal’s hand treks over your thigh, finding the high slit of your dress and using the opportunity it provides to start hiking the cloth up.

You kick the heels off your feet and they clatter on the floor. Cal carefully lowers one strap and lets the dress droop over your shoulder. The smooth and cool material flows down your arm and the other side of the bodice soon follows. Your chest is only covered with a skimpy but unbelievably supportive strip that some could generously call a bra.

Cal leans down to continue the kisses, but his hands still work, pushing the dress up your thighs and sides until he helps you pull it from under your rear.

Even if it began as heartfelt and gentle compared to the hot desperation at the club, by the time the dress is bundled at your waist, the mood is back to urgent, even frantic. You both have wanted, waited for this for weeks and it’s so surreal because you only just realised each other’s existence. Cal has filled your mind completely ever since the first meeting, as you have his.

Cal’s hands are hectic in moving on from getting your clothes out of the way to touching you. He cups your breast, kneading the soft flesh. His mouth silences the content sighs yours tries to make. Third time is the charm, you suppose, when making out with an Imperial Inquisitor.

Since the dress hem is no longer constricting your movements, your legs coil around Cal’s hips, pulling him closer. You’re unsteadily teetering on the edge of the table but every inch of your body is screaming kriffing finally as you feel his arousal against the junction of your thigh. You start tearing open his shirt.

There is no question about where you’re headed. The time for being slow and careful has passed. You rip Cal’s hand off from your side and move it between your legs. He gladly complies, quickly finding your clit through the fabric of your panties and pushing his advantage. Your legs widen open and you need a moment to focus on breathing.

You somehow manage to unzip Cal’s pants in the midst of heated kisses, laboured breaths, and lascivious, expectant glances. His eyes flutter closed and his whole body pauses the moment you palm his erection.

Feeling vindicated by how hard he is, you peel the cloth down to gain access and curl your fingers around him. Cal watches you, mouth slightly open and breaths ragged as you pump him – carefully at first, then applying pressure and speed until his breathing matches the pace and he has to take purchase from the table.

“You might want to stop…” he mumbles breathily.

You don’t grasp the hint at first. Then you stop abruptly.

You exchange breathy, excited grins as Cal lifts you from the rear with one hand and helps your panties off with the other. He holds your gaze as his greedy fingers find your entrance once more and push unceremoniously inside – your arousal is so evident that it’s effortless. He smirks as you groan needily at the delightful intrusion.

“You’re unbelievable,” you mutter but can’t help eagerly spreading your legs wider.

Cal drags his other hand up your thigh in a teasing stride. He slips a finger again inside you and you moan softly. He coats your clit with the wetness and starts working you straight into overdrive.

Cal watches as you bite your lip in order to muffle the sounds about to erupt from your throat with each flick of his finger.

“Hey, no need to hold back. It’s just us here, in the middle of space… I want to hear you,” he mumbles, half-forced but honest. And he has a point.

You completely give up on reciprocating the pleasure, just leaning heavily back on your hands on the counter while Cal massages you with two fingers and his hot breaths get heavier against your neck. He dips the fingers inside you ever so often, but it’s not enough. Not enough of him.

“Cal, I need you inside me. Now,” you mewl, somewhere in the back of your mind surprised at how coherent you’re able to sound.

“You’ll have to come for me first,” he groans and applies more pressure that makes you want to tip over to release right then and there. There is just something else you want more.

“N-no, I want to come… with you… inside me–”

Cal’s eyes flash, dark and intrigued. He pauses the assault to lose his pants, standing in front of your delightfully messed up body in nothing but the open shirt and his erection pressing against your needily pulsating core. You’re deliciously on the edge of over stimulation, the release hanging just by a thread. You’re ready to come on him, to have him inside you so much deeper than the fingers, stretching and pushing.

Cal pulls you to the edge of the table and slides into your wet heat in a fluid and effortless but careful thrust. And you see stars as he works his way all the way down, pulling you closer at the same time with one hand on your ass. Your core clenches preemptively around him, but you hold back with all your willpower.

Kriff, he feels amazing.

Cal starts moving at a firm, steady pace. You huff loudly and lean your head onto his shoulder as his fingers soon work you again. The sensation is overwhelming and you throw yourself eagerly and completely into it. It’s becoming harder and harder to not give up and let yourself come on his hard, smooth length, but you don’t want the moment to end. Not just yet.

Suddenly Cal finds just the right spot and pressure, and you yelp out a surprised moan, and immediately after bite your lip again.

“This good?” he asks but you can’t reply.  

You can’t even form a thought since the mind-blowing orgasm hits you with his next thrust so hard that your vision is going black. Cal feels it too right after the words have left his mouth as his motions become more jarred and compulsive, his breaths gasping, and his grip on your rear pulls you into him more tightly.

He grunts, hot, heavy breaths on the back of your neck and his body goes rigid as his warmth spills inside you with the last couple of erratic and deep thrusts. Each pulse of him inside you feels like a new wave of euphoria and you mindlessly wonder if it would feel even better if you were straddling his hips, applying pressure to just the right spots as he filled you.

You both stay still for what feels like minutes, riding out the fast, messy orgasms inside your small, personal galaxy. You would’ve never thought you’d be doing this with the Inquisitor – on a shuttle’s holo table out of all places.

It feels like something settles between you, an unvoiced secret and a promise, and you relish it as you feel Cal dripping out of you. You hope the holo table can take a bit of… fluid on it.

He stumbles to lean back, runs a hand through his messy hair, and breathes in deeply. His bare chest glistens with sweat and a pulse of desire sweeps through you at the sight. You did that. You caused him to look so disheveled and unorderly.

“The kyber piece… I want you to take it.”

“What?” you blurt out, definitely having heard each word of his but not understanding the meaning.

He snatches his pants off the floor. 

“I know it’s asking a lot.”

It is. If anyone were to find it among your things, it would end badly. But you suppose so it would mean the same fate to Cal if it were discovered in his quarters.

As Cal pulls his own pants up, you skid off the table onto trembling legs and start pulling the bundled dress up. Cal reaches the straps before you do, straightening them, and carefully places them over your shoulders.

“Why not just hide it somewhere?” you question, chest still heaving and pulse soaring.

Cal shakes his head. “I can’t risk anyone accidentally finding it.”

You swallow thickly. The consequences would be fatal. 

“Please,” he whispers.

“Okay. I’ll keep it safe for you,” you reply.

He huffs in relief. “Thank you.”

A beat of uncanny silence fills the lounge and with each passing second you find it harder to believe that you just had sex with Cal Kestis.

“What happens next?” you ask quietly.

“Next… we get you back home.”

You slip out the most disappointed, “Oh.”

As Cal returns to the cockpit and you watch his retreating back, you remember again that he is an Imperial Inquisitor and you’re just a technician.

[creative-frequency]

Inquisitor!Cal Kestis x Reader: Party Time

Word count: 2k Pairing: Inquisitor Cal Kestis x Female Reader, who is an Imperial Technician on Nur. Summary: Going to a nightclub with an Imperial Inquisitor isn't what you expected. Rated E for mature content, mostly just kissing in this part. Part 1 of 2.

✨ Previous Part // This is the 4th part of the series. ✨ My Writing Masterlist

The comlink on your wrist buzzes and your pulse hits the ceiling so quickly that it feels as if you hit your head.

Finally.

“Y-yes?” Your voice wavers so lamely that you drag a palm across your face. You knew he was going to comm you after what happened earlier, so you were supposed to be mentally prepared for this call.

An extremely confused military officer of the Empire came by your door, holding a box. She handed it over to you and proceeded to explain the current Iseno sector fashion and the colour choice and why it’s important that you wear no jewellery. As if you knew what she was going on about. You blinked through the one-sided conversation, nodding and trying to hold a neutral face and the suspiciously light box you received from her. Before leaving, she swore that she would mention no word of this to anyone as per Inquisitor Kestis’ request.

“Hey. Got a minute?” Cal sounds as obstinately cheerful as ever and it settles your heart racing in a different tone from the peak of anxiety. It’s been three days since you ran from his quarters in less clothes than an average wookiee normally wears and you’ve only passed each other once in the hallway after that. The salacious look he shot you almost gave you a heart attack.

“I assume this is about that dress?” you ask and wait with a bated breath.

“Yeah. You got it then? Good. Thought I’d explain,” Cal says.

“I would appreciate that…” you reply slowly and take the silky fabric into your free hand. It feels cool as it flows over your fingers back into a silvery bundle.

“I need you to come with me somewhere.”

//

The dress fits you like a glove and it’s the fanciest thing you’ve worn in years, possibly ever. Getting out of Nur, even if it’s only for a little bit, feels like finally being able to breathe. Denon wouldn’t have been your first choice for a break but you have no grounds to complain.

“You look good,” Cal says casually. He goaded you into taking his arm, but touching him feels weird. It would be easier to face Darth Vader head on in a fight than act natural in the situation.

“Yeah. It’s the dress,” you reply after glancing down once again. The silvery hem flows down your frame and the fabric is so smooth and flimsy that it feels like you’re wearing no clothes at all. That feeling doesn’t exactly add to making you comfortable.

Cal scoffs and chuckles. “What would you have worn then?”

“Well, I literally don’t have any other clothes besides the uniform.”

“Yeah, I figured.”

“Thanks,” you mumble at the floor.

Cal leans his ear towards you and grins. “What’s that?”

You really want to stick your tongue out at him but you’re the next in line and the Lasat guard by the door is already shooting heavily measuring looks your way. You try to look like going freaking clubbing is the most natural way to spend an evening. It’s not easy to forget that you’re in the company of an Imperial Inquisitor. Even if he looks as adorable as a puppy in the black casual clothing.

Fortunately Cal lets the chance to tease you go and you just continue jittering as unnoticeably nervously as you’re able to – until you finally get to walk inside and forget everything else. Whatever your expectations were, you could’ve never imagined the nightclub without actually seeing it.

First of all, the place is so full that it’s a miracle you even got in. Cal probably used his Inquisitor mind tricks or his status for a way in. You don’t want to know which. Secondly, your outfit doesn’t stand out at all. You blend in perfectly with every other patron wagging their asses on the dance floor in skimpy clothing. Thirdly and most obviously, you’ve never been to a nightclub before so it would’ve been hard to imagine typical club behavior and interior without even understanding the concept.

Cal lightly squeezes your arm to claim your attention from the dazzling people on the dance floor.

“Let’s get something to drink,” he says right into your ear to be heard over the loud music. Feeling his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear shoots a tingle up your spine.

You seek out Cal’s gaze to find him smiling rather impishly – he seems to be enjoying himself, possibly because of the atmosphere or the suffering that’s evident on your features. Nevertheless, you nod and steel your grip on his arm.

You have no clue what the drink Cal ordered for you contains, besides a red glow stick. His own drink seems to be clear as water and so your suspicions about the nightclub trip’s true purpose grow tenfold.

“So, will you tell me now why we’re here?” As you lean to say this to Cal’s ear, strands of his hair touch your nose and you realise just how good he smells. The memory of his lips on yours surfaces. Your heart rate speeds up.

Cal only smiles as a reply and pulls you with him, hand nonchalantly circling around your waist. You follow without objections, busy trying to hide the fluster growing over your cheeks.

As you look around in awe, Cal’s senses are sharpened and trained on the people partying around you. His eyes skim every patron inside the nightclub, looking for signs that would raise suspicions. He needs to be extremely careful not to touch anything. As long as his hands are busy on you, the danger is easily avoided. Not that he would reveal anything, but you can sense that something isn’t right with his behaviour. Maybe it’s just the “Inquisitor at work” attitude but there is something more. He is trying too much to appear casual.

Cal asked you to try to enjoy yourself, but it’s impossible.

Before you realise you were not just prancing around aimlessly, he has led you to the dance floor.

“Put your hands here,” Cal says right into your ear and places your hands on his waist.

“Oh, no way, I–”

He is persistent and flashes you a smile that melts any resolve you might have gathered to object to what’s about to happen.

With each passing beat of music and awkward sway of your hips you feel more self-conscious. It would be worse if Cal would even glance at your direction but his gaze is fixated on something behind your back.

You turn to look over your shoulder and jolt.

“Cal? We’ll bump right into–”

It’s too late. Cal is already apologising to the Zabrak patron with a plastic smile on his face. Something isn’t adding up but you decide to play along and smile as apologetically as you can while grabbing his arm to continue dancing.

Cal shoots a relieved look towards you and nods to your left, to the opposite direction of the mean-looking Zabrak.

You have no idea what is going on, but you get the sense that the night’s objective and reason for coming to the nightclub has been achieved. Your every sense is sharpened as Cal drags you to the back of the club to a more secluded area. The hallway is empty and the music volume is low enough to allow normal conversing tone to be heard.

“Cal?” you question hesitantly.

Cal looks uncharacteristically anxious for an Inquisitor. He holds a small pouch in his hand, looking left and right before pouring the contents onto his open palm.

It’s a small, blue crystal – that much you can see before Cal’s hand suddenly spasms. The crystal falls from between his fingers and your first not-so-wise instinct is to pick it up. Against all expectations, nothing happens as you touch it. It just feels warm.

When you look back up, Cal’s whole body jerks and he starts to lean heavily on the wall and slide down.

“W-wha– Are you okay? Cal?” You grip his shoulders to stop him from falling face down onto the floor. He isn’t responding.

Cal collapses into your arms and the leftover colour drains from your face.

“Cal? Cal? What’s wrong?” You frantically seek eye contact. “Tell me what happened!”

He struggles to find words. His body is limp and beads of sweat dot his forehead as you sink to the floor under his weight and push him to lean against the wall.

You look fervently around to seek for help, but Cal grabs your arm and hisses: “Quiet.”

He is pale, eyes glassy and unfocused. His hand befalls over yours, the one holding the blue crystal.  It’s hot in the club but his skin feels clammy and cold. He seems to be regaining his composure, albeit slowly.

“This isn’t just a pleasure trip, right?” you ask in a grim tone.

Cal finally looks at you with empty eyes. His head makes a miniscule shake as if the motion causes him nausea.

“Are we in danger?” you ask with a bated breath.

“I wouldn’t have brought you along if we were,” he says dismissively, still looking weak and nauseated. A bead of sweat rolls down his forehead.

You huff in utter disbelief, the true nature of the outing gradually dawning on you. “That’s kind of you. We should probably go now. If you can stand..?” Your eyes skim over the Inquisitor’s rather lithe frame on the floor.

“Y-yeah,” Cal nods, “Just– just gimme a moment.”

You were about to stand up already but settle back down. He is still holding your hand, tightly. As you look around to make sure no one is paying attention to you, Cal’s fingers suddenly touch your cheek and he is much closer than just a second ago.

“I’m glad you came along,” he says in a husky tone.

You blink. “W-what are you saying?”

Cal doesn’t give you a reply but you don’t stop him from pressing his mouth on yours. The moment your lips touch you realise how your heart rate speeds up with anticipation. He has been touching respectably all over your body during the evening and each touch has only added to the tension, waiting when it would finally cross the line. And it’s a semi-public space, no less.

It starts out as a gentle feeling out of each other’s lips. Slowly, Cal stands up, pulling your mouth with him and conveniently tugs you flush to him from the waist – only to turn you both around and push you against the wall he was just leaning on. You sigh into the kiss, still clutching the crystal in your fist. Cal seems to have forgotten about it as his hands rest on your hip and cheek, tongue inviting you into deepening the kiss. And you can’t wait to oblige and give him something else to think about, because that is what this desperation reeks of.

Cal’s hip and thigh press against you, and his knee pushes between your legs. At the pleasant wave of friction you hum into his mouth and your fingers curl into his soft, ginger hair. You no longer need air. You just need him. Closer. Deeper. More.

Cal’s hand circles from your hip to your back, grabbing your ass and he suddenly hoists you up, inviting your leg to hook around him from the slit of your dress. The proximity leaves little to imagination and heat sinks its tendrils deeper into you, tingling and desperate to have more. To have him.

“Hey! Take it elsewhere!”

The shout almost drowns in the euphoria of your tangled bodies, but Cal stirs only a little while you freeze. With all the time in the world, he kisses you deeply one last time.

You wouldn’t want to be in the shoes of the Lasat porter, who has to face the Imperial Inquisitor’s stare.

“We are leaving,” Cal manages to spit out. He takes your hand and drags you out of the nightclub. Somehow you’re not sad to see your evening cut short as you struggle to catch your breath.

Cal’s demeanour is as silent and hasty as your trip back to the Imperial shuttle. He doesn’t say a word, only gripping your hand in his so hard that twice you almost open your mouth to ask him to ease the vice a little.

//

→ PART 2 - Coming soon!