#cassian andor x f!reader

[beskarandblasters]

What Happens on Coruscant, Stays on Coruscant

Din Djarin x Cassian Andor x Poe Dameron x F!Reader

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Din Djarin Masterlist | Cassian Andor Masterlist

Summary: Three men stroll into a brothel on Coruscant one night looking for their own individual services. But when you’re the only worker available that night you decide you want to take on all of them at the same time.

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: reader is able-bodied, canon divergent, Poe, Cassian and the reader do not know Din’s name, sex work, reader has an alias she uses at the brothel (Nova), foursome/group sex, blowjob, handjob (but not to completion), nipple play, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, voyeurism, no use of y/n

“No one can know about this,” Mando says. 

“I’m not gonna say shit,” Cassian responds. 

“What are you so worried about?” Poe says, leading the other two men down the dimly lit street, “That your little cult is gonna find out and shun you?”

“It’s not a cult,” Mando sighs. 

“Whatever you say,” Poe chuckles. 

“Do you know where you’re going?” Cassian asks.

“I do, actually. We’re almost there. Just gotta hang a left at this next corner,” Poe says, matter of factly. 

He turns left at the next corner, narrowly missing a giant puddle, and then stops at a neon sign reading “The Big Bang”. 

“I thought you said this was a nice place,” Cassian says, raising an eyebrow at the flickering lights of the sign and the abysmal exterior. 

“It is a nice place! Speaking from experience.”

“You would have experience,” Mando says under his breath. 

“Gonna pretend I didn’t hear that,” Poe says, walking towards the door. 

The door slides open and the three men step inside. The lobby is actually rather elegant, a stark contrast compared to the exterior and the street it was located on. Dimly lit with sleek black tiles on the floor and a tall counter at the back of the room. A slender woman with emerald robes and neatly manicured fingernails stands behind it, tapping her fingers on the counter mindlessly. Her face lights up when she sees Poe walk through the door. 

“Mr. Dameron! Welcome back. I see you’ve brought some friends.” 

She tilts her head in Mando’s direction. 

“A Mandalorian? Been a while since we’ve had one of those,” she adds with a wink. 

He’s thankful for the helmet, for everyone would be able to see how embarrassed he looks if he were without it. 

Poe rests his arms on the counter and leans forward, shooting her a boyish grin. 

“Got any openings for each of us tonight?”

She looks down on her holo-pad and her brow furrows. 

“I’m afraid only one of our girls is available for the rest of tonight.”

“You’re killin’ me, Salva,” Poe teases. 

“Let me go talk to her and see what she wants to do,” she says, turning and disappearing behind a curtain. She walks down the hallway a few feet and turns left, stopping at none other than your room. 

“Dear?” Salva asks, giving your door a light knock. 

You open the door and greet her with a smile. 

“Yes?”

“I have three clients in the lobby right now. One of them is a regular, Mr. Dameron. I’m not sure if you’ve serviced him before.”

“Can’t say I have.”

“Oh he’s the best. Very good tipper. But none of the other girls are available tonight.”

“Hmm let me take a look at them first.” 

“Of course.”

She steps aside and you follow her down the hallway, stopping at the curtain at the entrance to the lobby. You peek into the lobby and the three men don’t notice you as they talk amongst themselves. Two of the men have darker hair but one clean shaven and the other has full facial hair. But the one that sticks out the most is the Mandalorian in silver beskar, standing with his hands on his belt and rigid as a board. He seems the most nervous out of all of them. 

You put the curtain back and turn to Salva. 

“So what do you wanna do?”

“All of them at once.”

Her eyebrows raise, “Oh really?”

“Mhm. See if they’re okay with that and if they are, send them to my room,” you say, turning and walking back down the hallway. 

Salva shakes her head and chuckles to herself before stepping back out into the lobby. The three men stop their conversation in her presence and fall silent, eager to hear what she has to say.

“Well boys you’re in for a real treat tonight,” she says with a smirk on her face. 

“And that is?” Cassian asks. 

“She has requested all three of you at the same time.”

“Uh I’m not sure-” Mando starts but Poe cuts him off. 

“Fine with us!”

But before Mando could protest, Salva claps her hands together and says, “Great! They’ll be twelve hundred credits!”

Poe pulls the credits out of the pocket inside his jacket. The other two sigh and do the same. Salva collects the credits and slips them into a drawer behind the counter. 

“Right this way!” she says, pulling back the curtain for them. 

The three men follow her down the hallway. Cassian and Din look all around them at the interior whereas Poe stays focused on following Salva. She stops at your door and says, “Well, here she is, boys! You can call her Nova. Enjoy yourselves!”

And with that she walks down the hallway and returns to the lobby. Poe knocks on your door and awaits a response. 

“Come in!” you call sweetly. 

Poe opens the door slowly and steps in. Din and Cassian follow him and close the door behind them. You’re standing in front of the bed that’s in the middle of the room. The bed is adorned with silky red sheets and four posts at each corner with beams connecting across with black curtains hanging. You’re dressed in black lingerie with a matching silky robe that stops at your mid thigh. 

“Well aren’t you a sweet thing, Nova,” Poe says, stepping closer and eyeing you up and down. 

“Why thank you, Mr. Dameron,” you say, feeling your cheeks heat up. 

“You can call me Poe, sweetheart. And this here is Cassian.”

Before he could finish you step closer to the Mandalorian and ask, “And what should I call you?” batting your eyelashes a tad. You’ve never had a Mandalorian client before and he’s certainly got your attention.

“Mando’s fine,” he says stiffly.

He seems nervous. You can’t wait to get under his skin. 

“So how do you want to start?” Cassian asks. 

“You tell me. I’m all yours tonight,” you say with a smirk.

You slip off your robe and watch Cassian and Poe’s mouths fall open. The visor of Mando’s helmet trails up and down your scantily clad form. You hang the robe up on a coat rack across the room before walking back over to the bed and sitting at the edge. Poe walks over and sits besides you, pressing kisses along your neck and sliding a hand up your thigh. Cassian followed suit, placing himself on your other side and fiddling with the strap of your bra. 

“Take it off, Cassian,” Poe mutters against your skin. 

Cassian obliges reaching a hand behind you and unclasping your bra. You slip it off and toss it on the floor, letting both men palm your breasts.

“Aren’t you gonna join, Mando?” you ask sweetly. 

“Yeah c’mon, Mando,” Poe says, removing his mouth from your breast and looking over at him, “I know you can’t take the helmet off but you at least gotta take the gloves off and feel her tits.”

Poe moves to a different spot of the bed to let Mando take his place. He strokes himself at the sight of your naked top half while Din sighs and takes off his gloves, tossing them on the floor as well. He sits beside you and brings a hand to the curve of your breast, trailing his fingers to your nipple and pinching it lightly.

“Don’t be scared,” you say softly.

And with that he pinches a little harder, emitting a small gasp from you. One of your hands moves to the bulge growing in Cassian’s pants. His breath hitches at your touch as you mess with the zipper. He stands up briefly to take off his pants, letting you gain complete access to his cock. You stroke it as he curses under his breath. Din migrates his hand to your other breast, worrying your nipple into a stiff peak between his fingertips. Poe sits beside you watching you grow hornier under Din’s touch and strokes himself. Eventually Din’s hand moves down your midsection and to your groin, pulling at the fabric and grazing the entrance of your cunt. 

“Wow, look at you go, Mando,” you tease just as he slips a finger into your already wet cunt, pulling a sharp gasp from you. You watch the visor of his helmet move from your chest to your cunt and he picks up the pace, curling his finger upwards against your walls. He slips another finger in and your walls expand around the thickness of his digits. In no time, he pulls your first orgasm from you, your cunt clenching around his fingers as you ride out your high. After your orgasm is finished washing over you, you turn to look at Poe and say, “Enough for me. Let me pleasure you.”

The men at your side move as you lay back onto the bed. Poe stands up at the edge of the bed, removing his clothes and bringing his cock right next to your face.

“You gonna suck my cock for me, Nova?” Poe asks, gazing down at your topless form.

“Of course, baby,” you say, opening your mouth for him.

He brings his cock by your mouth and you take as much of his hard length as you can. Your hand fits around the base as you lick up and down his shaft, tongue swirling at the tip, causing him to throw his head back in pleasure and curse. 

Cassian slips off your lacy underwear and spreads your legs, marveling at your dripping cunt. 

“He got you nice and wet for me,” Cassian says, his voice dropping a few octaves at his arousal. 

He pulls off his shirt over his head and spreads your thighs apart, aching to be buried between them already. He gathers your wetness on his hand and slicks his cock before entering you slowly, closing his eyes at the warm and inviting feeling. He buries his cock inside you to the hilt and curses under his breath. His hands grip your hips as he thrusts in and out of you, expanding your walls even more with each motion. 

Din stands on the other side of the bed, watching you suck Poe’s cock and getting fucked by Cassian, your back arched and nipples perked up. His hand finds his cock and he’s stroking himself at the sight of you being pleasured but also pleasuring. 

Your hands move to Poe’s balls as you continue to suck him, feeling them tighten up in your hand. With one last swirl of your tongue around the tip, followed by your mouth enveloping his length again, he’s coming. His warm mouth fills the back of your mouth and you swallow all of it, continuing to suck as he comes down from his orgasm. His hand grips your hair and he pulls your head closer into him, bringing the tip of cock to your throat. Tears spring in your eyes and just when you think you can’t take it anymore he pulls out. 

“Good girl,” he praises. 

But before you can respond you moan in pleasure as Cassian fucks you relentlessly, hands gripping your hips for dear life as he pulls you into him. Your back arches in pleasure and you close your eyes, seeing stars in the back of your mind as the euphoria builds up. Each slam of his hips brings your orgasm closer and closer. You open your eyes and get a look at him, his long hair swaying with each thrust and his chest glistening with a layer of sweat. And damn he looks good as he’s railing you. He brings his thumb to your clit and you’re already coming around his cock, fluttering and convulsing in rhythmic waves. He fucks you through your release, prolonging it even more before pulling out. You reach between your legs and stroke his cock, pulling his own orgasm from him. He paints your stomach in thick ropes of cum and sighs, leaning back on his heels on the bed. You catch your breath from the intense orgasm as well and look over at Mando. 

“What about you Mando?” you ask sweetly, “Let me take care of you.”

Cassian moves to the side of the bed, leaning against the bedpost as you flip onto your hands and knees, arching your back and sticking up your ass for him. He walks to the edge of the bed and hooks onto your hips, pulling you closer to him. You gasp but before you have the time to make a snide comment at his sudden confidence his hard length pushes into you. And for someone as quiet as Mando he fucks you rough. The cool beskar of his thigh armor collides with your skin with each of his thrust. You hear him curse under his breath in what you can assume is Mando’a while he continues to drive his cock deeper and deeper into you. The room fills with the most obscene sounds between your moans and the sound of skin slapping against the beskar. His grip on your hips tighten, surely tight enough to leave a mark but you’re too blissed out to care. You open your eyes for a moment to see Poe and Cassian stroking themselves at the sight of you getting dicked down by Mando. With one last thrust he pulls your final orgasm from you leaving your thighs shaking, barely able to keep you up. He pulls out and cums on your ass and you collapse onto the bed, completely exhausted from the evening’s activities. You hear the other men getting dressed so you flip over and sit upright. Mando’s replacing his gloves and the other two men are sitting on the bed. 

“Thanks for a good time, Nova,” Poe says, “I’ll definitely be back for you.”

“Oh yeah? Bring your friends next time, too,” you say glancing over at Mando and Cassian. 

“Sounds like a plan, sweetheart. Have a good nest of your night,” Poe says. And with that he rises from the bed and walks to the door. Cassian grabs your hand and presses a soft kiss to your knuckles. 

“Goodbye, gorgeous. See you next time,” he says, softly before following Poe. 

And as for Mando he gives you an awkward wave of his hand wordlessly before leaving with the other men. As soon as the door closes you collapse back onto the bed, completely exhausted.

The men walk back into the lobby and stop at Salva’s desk. “Well, did you enjoy yourselves?” she asks cheekily. 

They let out a collective “yes” and she chuckles.

“Good. Would anyone like to leave a tip?”

Each of them pulls out various amounts of credits from their pockets and hands them to Salva. 

“Thanks, boys. Have a good night!” she says, waving goodbye as they leave.

“What did I say, guys? I knew you were gonna love it,” Poe says smugly as they step out onto the street.

“Yeah that was something alright,” Mando says, “But no one can-”

“I get it. No one can know. What happens on Coruscant stays on Coruscant,” Poe says, clapping Din on the shoulder.

Din sighs and the three men walk back to the docking yard, already thinking about when their next trip to The Big Bang will be.

End note: That was my first time writing any kind of group sex so lmk what you think!!! 🖤

Part two: Is That a Blaster in Your Pocket or Are You Happy to See Me?

If you'd like to be notified when I post a new fic follow @beskarandblastersfics and turn on post notifications!

#din djarin x reader #cassian andor x reader #poe dameron x reader #din djarin smut #cassian andor smut #poe dameron smut #din djarin x f!reader #cassian andor x f!reader #poe dameron x f!reader #star wars fanfiction #din djarin fanfiction #cassian andor fanfiction #poe dameron fanfiction #mandalorian fanfiction #mandalorian smut #din djarin #cassian andor #poe dameron #cassian andor x you #din djarin x you #poe dameron x you #pedrostories

[moonlight-prose]

✧ LOVE BETWEEN ✧

a/n: i am iffy about this fic as a whole. last night writing wise wasn't the best for me and my mood has been...oof. but i will forever love cassian so much. so i couldn't fully skip this day without finishing his fic. i need to write so much more for him and the wips in my drafts are screaming. so i guess it's time for a rewatch of andor! i hope you enjoy my loves. (also the gif has me frothing at the mouth).

day nineteen - dry humping | kinktober 2023

summary: "there remained an unspoken pull between the two of you that kept you tightly wrapped around one another. your souls knotted so tight there was no undoing what had been solidified. the unspoken future you had always planned."

word count: 1.4k+

pairing: cassian andor x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, dry humping, fluff and angst, cassian being head over heels.

There remained an unspoken pull between the two of you that kept you tightly wrapped around one another. Your souls knotted so tight there was no undoing what had been solidified. The unspoken future you had always planned. More often than not, he found himself in your home. Seeking out the pleasure of your company as you both drank the shittiest caf in existence, but it was all you could find.

He would tell you the goings on around town, the things you might have otherwise missed, and you’d speak to him about your dreams. What you wanted to strive for, what life could be like if the Empire wasn’t currently destroying everything. You spoke about anything and everything, divulging things to each other that felt too private to tell anyone else.

Tonight he sat on the shitty couch, jacket discarded onto your separate chair, and eyes tracking your every movement as you fluttered around in the kitchen. The scent of your caf wafted through the house. Burnt and bitter and familiar. You poured some into his mug before heading over to your spot beside him. The blanket already pooled around his waist.

“How is Bix?” you asked, feeling him shift to face you better as you settled, dragging the rough fabric up around your legs.

He shrugged, taking a sip and wincing at the taste. Yet another familiar movement. “She and Tim are…”

“Complicated?”

He huffed a laugh, eyes shifting to meet your gaze. “You could say that.”

“He loves her.” You set the mug on your small table that tilted slightly. “It’s obvious.”

Cassian’s voice came softer, eyes tracing the curve of your body as the blanket slipped down a bit, revealing the curve of your breasts in your top. “He does,” he murmured, fingers tightening around his mug when you shifted even closer. The air between the two of you, now warm.

Silence filled the space, laying over you like a different kind of blanket. One that offered softness, comfort. A place where you knew you could be yourself and voice what you wanted out of life. Cassian felt the same. He sunk into the couch, sipping on the caf still despite its awful flavor; a gesture that warmed your heart. The nights were a time you looked forward to most. When you could finally relish in the presence of the man you’d loved for as long as you could remember.

But to Cassian you were a friend.

Simply the person he sought out when he needed someone to make him feel like his feet were firmly planted on the ground. He wasn’t the greatest friend and he knew that. He knew that he oftentimes brought more trouble than necessary, but with you he laid his troubles by the door as if they were a coat to be hung. Something he would pick up on his way out. In order to keep that smile on your face. The joy that pressed into his chest, filling him with a feeling that he found himself running from most days.

Yet when it came to you…he didn’t want to run anymore.

You didn’t notice him setting his mug on the table, too invested in the paper beside you, something scribbled on it. “I forgot to tell you—”

Grasping the back of your neck gently, he dragged you closer, his lips finding yours and drawing out a sharp gasp from your mouth. It was a meager attempt to display those feelings that ate away at his heart. Something to show you that he came here each night for a reason. You. He came to hear your laughter, to drink your shitty caf, and watch you light up at his stories.

He came to feel the warmth of your love on an otherwise cold planet.

Seconds passed and for a moment he worried you didn’t want this. That he’d overstepped his boundaries and pushed the limit of your friendship too far. Your hands sliding into his hair and dragging him closer put a stop to those thoughts instantly. A soft moan echoed in the back of your throat, punching the breath from his lungs as he practically climbed over you. His hand grasping onto your waist, sliding your leg over his hip.

“Cas—”

“I’ve wanted to do this for years,” he mumbled breathlessly, shifting to pull you up into his lap, until your knees were pressing on either side of his hips, chest pressed to his. “Ever since that fucking dinner.”

You laughed softly, fingers tracing his jaw and Cassian forgot how to breathe for that mere moment. “The dinner wasn’t so bad.”

“Bix cooking is never a good thing.”

Another giggle filled the air as you leaned down to steal another kiss. The taste of your caf, so much better coming from your tongue. He found that he didn’t mind the flavor. As long he got to kiss you afterwards. Sucking in a breath, he bit at your bottom lips, hands sliding to grasp at your hips, pushing you even closer until no space remained.

“I met you,” he replied, watching your eyes darken with lust, lips parting when he dragged you over his already hard cock. “The only good part of that night.”

Heat flooded the back of your neck, spilling into your cheeks and overheating your body. Yet you’d never wanted something more in your whole life. He captured your lips in another kiss, hips bucking up to meet yours, a sound being pulled from your chest. Heady and wet. Similar to the way he devoured you. As if you were the only source of life for miles—kissing you until you had no choice but to gasp for air, yanking on his hair to separate yourself.

“I want—oh—” Your clit caught on the seam of your pants, the press of his cock driving you insane as he dragged you across his lap again. A deep moan bubbling up in your throat, eyes fluttering shut when pleasure burst across your senses.

“I want to see you,” he said, chest heaving and eyes dark with need.

“I’m here.”

His lips curled up, grinding into you and watching your face contort, eyebrows pulling together while your mouth dropped open. “No. I want…to see you.”

The meaning registered in your brain slower than you would have liked. Yet once it did, you couldn’t find the words to respond. Each of them more incoherent than the last. He wanted to watch you cum. To witness you at the peak of pleasure, knowing that it was caused by him.

“Cassian,” you gasped, grinding down until sparks shot up your spine. Slick flooded your panties, no doubt soaking through to his pants. You dragged yourself along his lap, arms curled around his neck and lips brushing his as he panted into your mouth.

“Take what you want,” he said hoarsely, helping you guide your movements as he bucked up into you with each shift. “Use me.”

“Maker.”

You went lightheaded. The rush of need plowing through your body as he led you through the movements. Your legs were slightly shaky, eyes squeezed shut and lips scratching along his cheek. But you wouldn’t have it any other way. Cassian held you like you were precious kyber. Something he could one day lose in the middle of terror.

“I’m gonna, Maker I’m g-gonna—fuck Cas—”

Licking a hot trail up your throat, he felt you shudder above him, your cry bouncing off the walls of your house. He watched the bliss wash across your face and wanted to see it again. As many times as you’d permit him. Pressing his hips up and grinding roughly against the seam of your pants, he felt his body lock up—his rough moan pressed to your chest. His cock twitched in his pants, cum soaking through the fabric.

It would get uncomfortable soon, but he had you on top of him, pressing kissing down his neck and sucking on the skin. Drawing out another soft moan.

“That was new,” you said softly, smiling into his shoulder. He chuckled, hands moving to cover your ass. “Although I wouldn’t mind adding that to our nights.”

“Shitty caf and a good fuck?”

You slapped his shoulder, body shaking as you laughed and he couldn’t stop himself from joining. Feeling a type of joy that only came around you. He wanted to lock it in his chest. To remember what this felt like even when he wasn’t there with you. But to Cassian there was no place he’d rather be.

“Perfect,” you whispered, brushing your lips against his, sealing your future with a kiss he felt down to his toes.

#cassian andor x f!reader #cassian andor x reader #cassian andor x y/n #cassian andor x you #cassian andor #cassian andor smut #star wars smut #my writing #kinktober 2023 #posting this late but i really wanted to get it out today

[amywritesthings]

about you. (cassian x you)

Pairing: Cassian Andor x F!Reader

Word Count: 5.6K

Summary: You are a rebel spy working as an escort at Canto Bight's cliffside casino. When Luthen cannot meet you for an intel exchange on New Year's Eve, he sends his best asset. Never in your wildest dreams did you think that meant you'd reunite with your former childhood best friend, Cassian Andor.

Warnings: New Year's Eve, Spy Thriller, Escort Service, Romantic Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Childhood Friends, Reunions, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Mentions of Sex Work, Wall Pinning, New Year's Eve Kiss

A/N: Happy New Year, everyone! I had a fun holiday one shot idea and wanted to try my hand at writing Cassian Andor. I am wishing you all a happy & healthy new year, and I can't wait to continue writing in 2023.

( Read on AO3 )

Canto Bight is always bustling at New Year’s Eve.

It’s why Luthen Rael has shown up on your doorstep for the first time in months. In his not-so subtle way, the man requests (see: demands) that you float back to your old haunt, the one within the glittering halls of their monument cliffside casino, and do what you do you best: entertain as a partner experience escort for the rich and powerful. 

The partner experience operation has been your designation from the very beginning of this rebellious calling. Your contribution to the rebellion, as he claims, is valuable — because the whispers in the night by decorated Imperials that feel safe in your company are priceless.

Whispers bring intel, and not even gold is as priceless as Imperial intel.

Luthen claims he knew of your potential the moment he laid eyes on you in a seedy dive bar on an Outer Rim moon. The little lamb far from her home planet Ferrix, looking fearful yet enraged all the same; starved, but most importantly willing to do anything to take down the Empire one domino at a time.

It was the type of spunk the older man needed in a claustrophobic world.

So you struck a deal: under trained supervision, you would run the casino circuits and red districts — never quite getting close enough to sleeping with the enemy (who knew the Empire thrived on humiliation and edging?) but enough to drug them, learn from them, then report back to him for the next move.

Rinse and repeat for six successful years.

And right now, you were supposed to be done. Find a small shack in the middle of nowhere knowing you did your part in the small but mighty agenda. Perhaps, eventually, you would find a way to make peace with your past and your present.

Then Luthen fucking Rael shows up at the stoop of said shack only six months later with a new opportunity.

A new strategy on the chess board.

(The rebellion, as he so candidly puts it, is never final.)

“Did you hear about what’s going on with Life Day this year on Canto Bight?” Luthen grunts, opting to stand by the doorway rather than a seat at your makeshift kitchen table.

You drop down unceremoniously with your arms at your sides. You know — and you know he knows — there is a blaster taped on the belly of the steel table should this be an unpleasant visit.

“You mean the Wookie holiday?”

“Hmm,” Luthen sounds, caught between a yes and a no. “Supposed to be the Wookie holiday, but it seems the Empire has allowed the casino a profitable chance to participate until the new year.”

“I’d expect nothing less,” you muse in return, surveying him. “When you say profitable, you mean—”

“Everyone who is anyone will be visiting.” Luthen never makes any sudden movements; always trapped sounding bored with this life he leads. It’s also a tactic not to play his cards too far from his chest. “They’ll be running the gambit for paid time off.”

Smile bland, you nod once. “Which is code for… you need someone on the inside.”

“For the season,” he agrees, shifting his weight. “A gift to the faces who may have missed you.”

“Missed me?”

“I hear about the Diamond quite a lot.”

Their precious Diamond.

Maker, that nickname always made your skin crawl.

You huff, rubbing your nose with the back of your thumb. “Flattery gets you nowhere with me, Luthen, you know that.”

He takes a pause, small eyes observing everything that you do. Updating a mental database logging your quirks and your discomfort to cipher for a later date — that’s all he’s ever done, study and download people, and he’s done so without error yet.

(It’s why he’s never been caught.)

“It isn’t flattery,” he finally says. “It’s an opportunity.”

To do everything we couldn’t the first time, is what he really implies.

It’s feeding an addiction no amount of dead fascists will be able to quench.

“And how do I tell them why I want the job back after I quit?”

“Your mother was very ill. You needed to help with her expenses,” Luthen fabricates from thin air. “It was easiest to part ways without the low note on your record. But the credits have dried up, and their clientele will be thankful of the casino’s decision to allow you back on the floor.”

It’s your turn to pause — to study. He gives away nothing. You lean forward to rest your elbows on the tops of your thighs.

“You think that’ll work?”

“You’ll sell it,” is all he gives back like you’ve already said yes.

You’re supposed to be out.

(Do you want to be out?)

.

.

.

.

.

No.

No, you don’t.

.

.

.

.

.

Getting the job back at the casino as a specialized escort is easy. The difficulty lies in remembering how to fall into old, subtle habits when all you want to do is cause chaos. Staying engaged while chatting up Imperial scum as they spittle in their expensive liquors and moan about the woes of their occupations and agenda can only go on for so long.

Yet you laugh with the rest of them once they’re kissing your feet and your hands, because everyone in this rebellion has a part to play.

(Our loveliest of diamonds, back to see us once again.)

Luthen, of course, never leaves you to your own devices for long. Gifting a hefty sum of credits and a bag of dissolvable sedatives every time he passes through Canto Bight as his alter ego is about as noble as the illusive man gets.

You fill small briefcases with voice memos and holovideos of nightly conversations, drunken manifestos and slippery plans.

It works.

By some miracle, you have never been caught.

New Year’s Eve is filled to the brim with Imperial guards enjoying time off from their grueling schedules. Some of the higher commanding officers already have their arms draped over people inviting them to a great time. Others chase after the debauchery promised by scantily clad creatures inviting them into the halls and out of their money.

You? Have a booking in advance: a high-ranking officer, but not within the Inner Circle.

According to Luther, he’s a valuable asset double-crossing their superiors.

A plant.

You are to deliver the intel to him under Luthen’s command and trust.

(Ironic. You always believed Luthen trusted no one.)

At the final half hour of the year’s end, you round the corner from the main entertainment room and down the hallway towards the private event spaces. A multitude of sounds are muffled by the doors — some good, some not so. Your focus is set on the twelfth door where your officer awaits, and suddenly you feel nervous all over again.

Meeting one of Luthen’s other operatives feels all too daunting.

After a moment, you place your code into the code box by the door and wait for the durasteel to slide, revealing the plush crimson meeting space. It's staged with a convenient king-sized bed and a vanity for refreshment, inviting comfort and suggesting the obvious.

What greets you as the door opens — a silhouette at the edge of the bed, dressed in Imperial formals — is not what you envisioned.

The man’s hair is what you notice first: disheveled brown locks are combed back neatly, smoothed by gel to keep the unruliness at bay. The jacket’s shoulders are a little too pointed, as if he’s not grown into his uniform quite yet — or like he’d stolen it on his way into the venue. The lines on his faces aren’t new, but aren’t old. He’s tired — so fucking tired, but he sits taller the second the door opens.

The blank expression on his face is purposeful, almost doe-eyed, with a feigned, smug-like innocence only an Imperial officer would wear.

Then his gaze travels from your open-toed shoes, up your bodysuit dress of sequins, and locks onto your face.

Just like that, the façade is broken.

What once was blank now hardens, wholly confused, before the lines on his prominent brow smooth with recognition.

Cassian.

Of all the idiots in all the galaxy, Cassian Andor is dressed as an Imp in your meeting space on the eve of the new year.

And you thought, with this rebellion, that you’d seen everything.

While the officer in disguise is much older than what your memory recalls, you could never forget that face even if the Empire tried. The feeling of dirt under your fingernails, the scent of rubber burning, the spark of an electric charge from a stolen piece of property — it all floods back in a tidal wave, almost knocking you a step back into the hallway.

On Ferrix, Cassian Andor always ran around with different people — sometimes it was Bix when she wasn’t punished for entertaining teen scoundrels; sometimes it was other boys in scrappy brawls and mended machinery; most of the time, however, it was you.

Hand and hand, causing mayhem in the bright suns and the full moons. He'd shown you what it meant to stand up for yourself. To want what you want and not apologize for it. To be bold, even at the expense of disruption.

And then he’d pummel whatever wayward eye looked at you the wrong way.

Trouble. 

Cassian Andor was so much trouble, and you were mad for it.

Your last memory of him is as vivid as the neon lights lining the ceiling: you're both sixteen years old and shoulder-to-shoulder on an inclined metal slab, staring up at the stars. He's wearing that jacket from his father and hasn't combed his hair in days. You're lost in telling him about your dreams of a better tomorrow, of one day leaving Ferrix for good and making a difference in the vastness of the galaxy despite how small you feel. He laughs, a hum more than anything else, and takes your hand in his.

You're too afraid to squeeze back.

Having Cassian poke fun of the idea of doing much of anything in the galaxy never felt like he mocked you for wanting to try. More than anything, his laugh was one of envy: he couldn’t afford dreams, so you dreamt for the both of you. He couldn’t handle intimacy, so you were satisfied with resting your hand in his the entire night.

Nothing was said. Nothing had changed.

He gave what he could, and you understood.

Childhood friendship has a funny way of feeling that simple.

Cassian, however, never truly chose to change with you. He never truly chose anyone, not really, not when he had so much to give — to his mother, to his scrapyard confidantes, to Bix.

You fit somewhere in the chapters of his life, but Cassian Andor could never tell you which ones. He could not, and would not, promise someone tomorrow.

An unfinished book.

You never did tell him where you were going after hitching a ride on that stock transport to get the hell out of Ferrix for good. Not a single holocard or a note.

Just… gone, into the galaxy, to dream.

Now he sits in front of you at the edge of your meeting space bed, threatening to ruin your calculated cover in one-fell swoop.

Before Cassian can implode your operation, you turn on the mask: with a bright smile and squared shoulders, you gesture to the plush furniture of the room. “Is it to your liking, Mr. —?”

You trail off on your question to give him a chance to speak.

Cassian blinks a few times, only to remember himself.

“Raoul,” he blurts without dismissing his accent, eyes widening with an unspoken question: what are you doing here? “Sargeant Murl Raoul.”

Maker, you haven’t heard that voice in so long.

It’s deeper now. Rusty. Scratched.

“Sargeant,” you correct pleasantly, taking a step into the bedroom to toe the perimeter. Cassian pulls the geometric gray hat clear from his head, balling it in his fist, but you raise a palm at the hip when his mouth opens: don’t.

He listens, pressing his lips together with purpose.

“I asked if this room was to your liking," you repeat.

Cassian struggles with an answer, studying you with concern. You hate it. You hated it back on Ferrix when he tried to play protector, and a decade and a half apart doesn’t dilute the emotion.

Your brows rise, and he clears his throat. “I— yes, I am quite comfortable.”

“Good,” you conclude with a small nod. “Now before I join you and get more comfortable, do you have any questions for me?”

“More comfortable?” he asks a little too fast, so you recover with a glide of your hand along your sparkling thigh.

“Can’t do much when I’m in this old thing,” you coo, that stage performer voice now sounding so phony to your ears with a known audience. “Shouldn’t take long.”

Cassian runs the tip of his tongue along the seam off his lips, shifting his seat on the mattress. “I suppose I could ask how… uh, how long have you been doing… this?”

You don’t know if he’s asking about the escort arrangement or the Informant position, which further complicates the game. The odds of Cassian showing up on Canto Bight should be slim. Cassian wearing an Imperial outfit on his own ought to be slim to none. 

But appearing in your private meeting space, fake alias and all?

Your blood runs cold with truth between the lines.

(Luthen never does anything by accident.)

This meeting — reuniting Cassian and yourself — is his test, a judgment call, but you refuse to let Luthen win the game with this surprise hand.

“Years,” you answer honestly, to both.

You continue to face him as you skirt around the left side of the sparkling vanity, not taking any chances with your former friend. Your manicured fingers glide along the mirror’s back, searching for the planted Imperial wire.

(Not only are they cruel, but perverted in their efforts to catch spies.)

“So then you are... experienced?” The question comes out rougher than you believe he intends. Gruff, like he’s embarrassed to even ask.

(The question almost — almost — makes your face burn.)

“If you’re worried that you won’t have a good time, Sergeant, then I promise they sent you to me for a reason. I’m going to take great care of you.”

Cassian’s expression darkens at this as he rises to his feet with purpose.

You rip the microphone from the back of the mirror, holding the device between your index and middle finger for show. 

This stops him from moving ahead, eyes locked on the microphone before flickering back to you. You shake your head.

I said don’t.

He nods once, and you take the microphone between your hands. With two clicks, the wire cover pops open, displaying a multitude of tiny wires. You fidget between two, pulling, until the red eye at the center of the device dissolves into black.

The room is blanketed with silence.

Now it’s just you and a ghost here.

“We’re clear,” you tell him after another beat, dropping the seductive aloofness in your tone.

Cassian’s shoulders drop a fraction of an inch. “That was fast.”

Your brow picks up that fraction, raising high. “You have to dismantle them fast."

“Let me take a look at it,” Cassian replies, tossing the hat twisted in his hands to the mattress. "Are you certain it's off?"

“Positive,” you say, sheltering the item closer to your chest. “You don't need to look at it. Easy to disable and reassemble at a moment’s notice, so I’ll turn it back on when you depart.”

“What about lost footage?”

“Chalk it up as faulty equipment they’re too stubborn to replace in a shithole like this.”

Cassian mulls over your answer, taking a cautious few steps forward to observe the small device in your hand. “Imperial-grade wires are tough to work with. A five-second warning doesn’t give many people time to disable the alarm,” he informs in a whispered afterthought. “Where did you learn to do that?”

In your bones, you know it’s a trick question.

Fifteen-something years of reuniting in a moment like this comes with immense drawbacks. When he asks, it is not out of curiosity — it is out of the desire to see if you are truly you.

(Because he remembers your face, too.)

“On Ferrix,” you reply.

He gives no reaction, continuing to deadpan. “Where on Ferrix?”

“You want me to remember from that long ago?” you laugh, placing the microphone on the vanity’s surface and following up with a thick blue cloth to drape over top of it.

“Humor me,” he reasons, flexing his leather-clad fingers at his sides. Now that he doesn’t have a distraction, Cassian doesn’t stop looking at your face.

(The same intensity as the boy without dreams.)

“The old Slavyard. There was that one incredibly rainy month when those prim and proper freaks—”

“—installed the spyware on the back door in the middle of the night,” he interrupts, finishing the story with a misplaced awe under his breath. “You played lookout while I disabled the devices.”

You don’t answer, not really, as you offer a half-hearted smile. “Say what you want about that place, but you learn a lot of things when you watch restless boys who never know when to stop getting in trouble.”

The return smile is small and fleeting, but the corner of Cassian’s lip upticks. His brows knit together, contemplating before a huff of a laugh exits. “Not a very good lookout, then, if you were so busy watching me.”

“You never got caught, though, did you?” you joke.

You swear he almost laughs.

The silence settles at your ankles and rises with each passing second, encompassing you both in a shroud of possibilities: pleasantries are nice, but the popping of bottles and shouts of celebration passing by your room brings you both back to a reality where you’re playing pretend.

Cassian huffs once more, running a hand down his face and around his neck before dropping it in a gesture towards you. “He cannot be serious.”

He.

You catch that pronoun with intrigue and tilt your chin.

“Serious about what? Who’s ‘he’?”

His voice softens, shrinking in size, as he nears half a step closer and into your bubble. “Don’t tell me it’s you.” You maintain eye contact — maintain dominance of this situation — and stay in place. “When he said to wait…”

“...for the Informer, you didn’t think you’d run into a ghost?” you finish, and he’s polite enough not to nod. “He only told me the person he was sending in his stead was one of his best assets. This reunion isn’t my doing.”

“No,” Cassian agrees, low and certain. “It isn’t.”

Because Luthen knows.

Luthen knows, and that’s dangerous in and of itself: his little lamb on Ferrix knew his most trusted asset long before the mastermind was in the picture, and this sabotage is meant to figure you out.

(To figure you both out for his own gain: to make sure you were both up for the task, history aside.)

Your jaw clenches as you nod with assertion, mindful of the train of your body-tight dress when you shift around Cassian to create some space. He turns his torso, following.

“Did he force you to do this?” When you pause in your steps to quirk a brow, he struggles with verbalizing what this means. “Entertaining these low lives while they piss their credits away.”

“Very strong words for someone dressed as an Imp.”

He completely ignores you, hyper in his budding rage. “Because if anyone has touched you—”

“No one’s forcing me to do anything, Cass,” you reply, hateful that the former nickname leaves your lips so fluidly; as if no time has passed. “We’re all cogs working for the same machine.”

“That doesn’t mean he should be having you do this on your own,” the man argues. “He’s not even on the planet, for fuck’s sake. This is dangerous work.”

“You keep saying this or that, but you’re not really asking the real question.” Your nose scrunches, maliciously playful. “I don’t fuck them. It’s pretend, Cassian. My honor is intact.”

Cassian squints with a scoff. “That isn’t what I meant—”

“It isn’t?” you challenge.

“No,” he responds just as fast and just as intense. A smirk plays on your lips, slow and growing. “Fuck whoever you’d like to fuck. One or a dozen, I don’t care, but not them. They don’t deserve you.”

“And who does?”

“I don’t know, but not Luthen or the pieces of shit out there or anyone on this planet.”

“Not even you, right?”

He stares down at you, hard. You snort in disbelief.

“I never thought I’d see the day where Cassian Andor is jealous of a body count, but I guess stranger things have happened for both of us.”

Cassian’s jaw sets, nostrils flaring with an anger he refuses to bury completely. He searches your face, lost on a response, before sharply inhaling through his nose.

“I need information on your regulars.”

Ah.

No more games. 

You roll your eyes, absently waving him off as you turn to walk towards the crate-like nightstand. “I have the files on a drive.”

No more games, or so you thought — Cassian follows close behind. “Drives are easily corruptible or lost or stolen. You could just tell me.”

Your hand hovers on the drawer when you turn your chin to look at him. “Yeah, sure, let me just… tell you about a mission I’ve spent years finessing so you can get the details wrong when you relay with Luthen.”

“Do you think so little of my memory skills?” he says and it’s a joke, but it teeters on the edge of an argument.

Just like old times.

You don’t need this type of deja vu before the new year.

“Whisper down the lane only goes so far,” you answer, turning back to the drawer in front of you. Your hand lifts the edge of the bottom plate, removing a small box from the center of the hidden compartment.

You only pause when you feel his presence right behind you as soft puffs of air tickle the back of your exposed neck.

He says nothing, not at first, in this proximity. Then a syllable sounds:

“Why?”

The question is a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it whisper. His voice flutters along your skin, causing a shiver down your spine. Deep down you know he’s not asking about the drive or your distaste for his preferred method of relay. Why — the one word you hoped to never face.

If you concentrate hard enough, you can smell the scent of his cologne.

It smells nothing like Cassian.

You stay focused on a miniscule dot on the wall, too afraid to turn around.

“We can’t do this here,” you murmur, barely audible in return.

“I paid for the hour,” he replies. “If I were to leave ten minutes into your company, then there would be questions.”

(He’s right. As much as you hate it, your former friend is right.)

You raise your chin to the ceiling, closing your eyes. Contemplating. Seeking anything, everything, to say to avoid what’s to come.

You open your mouth to speak, but Cassian gets there first.

“I looked for you.” A vulnerable statement from an impenetrable man. His chin leans forward, the warmth of him spreading to your aura. “In dozens of quadrants—”

“Cassian.”

“—and about a hundred planets—”

“Stop.”

“—but you left nothing.” The final word emphasizes with raw emotion, causing your throat to swell. His gloved hand rests on your tricep, but you turn to finally face him. The closeness of him is a surprise — piercing brown eyes meet yours with mere centimeters between noses. “No note, no goodbye, no telling where you might have headed. Nothing.”

Frowning, you don’t realize that you’re shaking your head. The lines on his face are too distracting. He is distracting.

“You were never supposed to see me again.”

“And I never understood why.” He steps forward. You step back. When you think he won’t advance, he continues to step once, twice, until the third lands your back to the corner of the room. “So I am asking — now — while I can still have you: why?”

While I can still have you. You know the implication isn’t there, not truly, but your heart aches for it. The tension makes you feel so small, as if you’re eighteen and flying all over again.

You’re supposed to be over this; over him.

“I had to start new,” you answer after a considerable pause, forcing yourself to look him in the eye in what little space is held between you. “I was always going to leave Ferrix.”

“I knew that,” he argues softly. “I was never going to deter you from—”

“No. No, you were never going to,” you agree, nodding. “But you were always off and on the planet, doing what you had to for everyone else. If I didn’t cut Ferrix out of my life, then I wonder if I would have had the same fate as my parents or my friends: getting stuck there. And not just getting stuck, but waiting.”

“Waiting?” Cassian asks with confusion, brows knit.

You relax against the wall with a humorless laugh. “How did you not see it? The way I always waited for you.” Anxious, you turn your cheek to check the main door as you mull over your next few words. “I would have waited my whole life for you.”

The air in the room shifts.

Although he remains in your peripheral vision, the man stays staring at you without a discernible expression. The gravity of what you’re admitting drags lower, lower, until he says something that forces you to look at him head-on:

“I thought you were indifferent to me.”

Your eyes widen. “Indifferent?”

Cassian nods, short and quick. “You had all these big plans. I listened for hours. Not one of them involved me.”

“Because I didn’t think you’d want to be a part of those plans.”

“Maybe I didn’t think I couldn’t make a difference, not in a… rebellion, though the irony is not lost on me now,” he admits with a huff of a laugh, “but I wanted to be a part of you. I didn’t care what it was, so long as I still had you.”

You stare at him as he stares back at you, totally dumbfounded with this brand new information. Cassian swallows thickly, shifting his weight yet again from one leg to another. The loud party continues outside of your room, drowning these confessions in the excitement for a nearing midnight.

You had all these big plans.

Memories warp at a second’s notice as your brain tries to understand what he’s laid at your altar.

Not one of them involved me.

He shouldn’t be saying this.

He shouldn’t be saying any of this.

Closing your eyes to find a pause in your racing thoughts, you try — try to find where perhaps this is fabricated, designed to see if you’re easily swayed by the past that you so desperately let die in this rebellion.

Slowly, your eyelids flutter open. Cassian is watching with something close to concern.

(Something, maybe, closer to fear.)

You gently shake your head. “This is a test.” 

“I know.” 

“Luthen did this—” 

“Fuck Luthen,” he breathes out, eyes dropping to stare at your lips, and your heartbeat quickens. 

His brows meet in the middle, concentrated yet lost — as if he’s back on Ferrix, scrawny and scrappy and calculating the gravity of the risk should he decide to steal or trespass —

Or do something he wasn’t supposed to. 

“Cassian.” 

Your voice is gentle with a warning. His eyes do not raise, but he does answer.

“What?”

“You have that look on your face.” 

“I have a look?”

“When you’re contemplating doing something stupid? Yes.”

He snorts, amused. “You remember what that looks like after fifteen years?”

“It's very hard to forget it.” 

He mulls the moment over, flickering his attention back up to your eyes and nodding.

“You’re right. I am thinking of doing something stupid.”

“How stupid?”

“Incredibly.”

A beat passes.

Finally he blinks up to your eyes, searching for an answer to a question he hasn’t asked yet. You wait, just as you’ve always waited, to hear his voice.

“It’s almost midnight,” he says, flexing the leather gloved hand at his side. “I should go.”

Everything sinks.

The crowd outside grows louder as people depart from their private rooms to celebrate in the middle of the casino. Everyone begins the unison countdown of the final minute until the new year rings out.

The device in your hand grows heavy — a reminder of why he’s here in the first place, what Luthen will be looking for, yet your arm cannot rise to give it over.

(A few more minutes and he’ll be gone.)

To find a reason to keep him here with you would be selfish.

Instead of protesting, you nod. 

“Yeah. You should go.”

He nods, too, and his throat bobs with a swallow.

Outside your door, their laughter and shouts reach a collective ten, nine, eight, seven…

Yet he doesn’t move. 

Neither do you.

Six, five, four, three…

“Cass?”

Two.

Cassian speaks with broken finality, rushed and wanting. “I can't go without—”

You beat him to it.

Canto Bight’s cliffside casino roars with excitement of the new year while you grab the lapel of his Imperial uniform, dragging him in as he simultaneously launches his lips to yours.

The force of him smacks your head into the wall, but the stars behind your eyes aren’t from impact. It’s from the way he presses his mouth to yours, desperate to pour years of frustration and wonder into a long-awaited kiss. You whimper into it, eager to dissolve any space between you.

Cassian Andor cages your head into the palms of his gloved hands, holding you with a tenderness and strength only he can have. He groans into your mouth when he tastes you, tongue dragging along your lower lip — the neediness of it is enough to make your knees give out.

Except he drops his hands to your shoulders and spins you, pressing your chest into the wall. Using your hands to balance yourself, Cassian wastes not a second more to place his hands over yours, pinning you in place.

“We should have — opened with a fight,” he murmurs breathlessly into your ear, kissing your earlobe before bringing it into his mouth. 

You bite back a moan, dropping your forehead to the wall. “If I'd known you wanted to kiss me after all this time, Cass, then I would have — gone straight past a fight and went for it.”

He chuckles behind you, letting go of your earlobe to travel kisses down the side of your neck.

“There is a lot I wanted to do back then, but I was too chickenshit to try it.”

The imagery of a lot burns into the back of your skull.

“And now?” you ask, but it’s wavered.

Cassian slows down, but his lips remain against the crook of your neck. You mourn the loss of speed, pushing your hips back to connect with his.

A hand shoots down to still your waist as his thumb runs soothing strokes into the skintight dress.

“Not here,” he decides, but it isn’t regretful. It’s determined. “When I see you again—”

“When?” you interrupt.

“When,” he enforces, squeezing your waist, “I see you again, I’ll do what I’ve been too chickenshit to do and it won’t be under a watchful eye.”

When I see you again.

You smile small, delirious in the haze of him.

“Is that a promise?”

“As good as I can make one,” he responds in earnest, turning to leave a small kiss on your cheek. “You’re not losing me so easily this time.”

And you believe him.

Misunderstandings, miscommunications — all of that hardship to end up here, of all places.

You have so much to learn.

(He has so much to hear.)

Even if this was Luthen’s doing, even if this was a test of faith, you cannot find a reason to care. Not when your lips still tingle with the kiss you’d only dreamt about your entire life.

Reaching for his arm, you gently bring his free hand to yours and place the small drive in the middle of his palm. Cassian’s chin drops to observe the tiny metal, jaw setting to its unreadable clench.

Because at the end of the night, you both still have jobs to do.

A new year.

(A new horizon.)

“Until next time,” you say, removing your hand from his.

Cassian curls his fingers over the drive, shoving the small device in his coat pocket. He flexes and raises his hand to bring it up to your cheek, cradling your face once more as he leans in for one final kiss. This time it’s softer. Timid.

The closest Cassian Andor can ever get to a promise.

He pulls away, nose to nose, and mirrors in reply.

“Until next time.”

#andor #cassian andor #cassian andor x reader #cassian andor x you #cassian andor x female reader #cassian andor x f!reader #andor tv #andor tv series #star wars fanfic #star wars fanfiction #star wars #andor fanfiction #cassian andor fanfiction #luthen rael #female reader #reader insert #new years eve #about you #amywritesthings

[septimaseverinawannawrite]

Saturday Seven 03

Fandom: Star Wars

Pairing : Cassian Andor x F!Reader

Request: No.

Summaries: From this prompt; "You are hot when you are angry."

Warning: Mention of fungus and virus. Bad Writing? Using Y/N. Implying 18+ at the end.

Rate: T

Words: 390

A/N: Finally, I can drag myself to write my own challenging. A little bit change about devider, because the old one is too big.

🌹Click to My AO3

(Divider by @saradika)

“Cassian Jeron Andor!” Y/N shouted out loudly from the bathroom in her and Cassian’s quarter, on Hoth base. She knew she was not supposing to be furious towards him, but this time she really pissed of what he had done. It is just like his second nature before they married.

“What is it, love?” Cassian, who was wearing and apron and standing at the small area, where they could prepare and cook simple meals. He turned around, seeing that she grabbed his towel in her hand. He knew the consequence, sweet and innocence smiling for her should calm her down. But it did not help at all.

“How many times I tell you not to hang your towel in bathroom after you taking a shower!” Y/N frowned, trying not to look into his pair of those big brown eyes (and the glistening in them, sometimes). They almost got her every single time. “Your wet towel is gonna grow toxic fungus! And don’t make me mentioning about bacteria and germs! Are you a nine years old boy…”

Cassian didn’t argue or bicker back like previous. Today was his day-off. He had planned for a long time on spending the precious time with Y/N, nothing could worsen his mood today. He smiled at her while listening to her complaining. His delightful expression made her quirking her eyebrows – demanding for the reason why today he was unusual.

“You know, you are hot when you are angry.” His voice was flirtatious. Just like he said. Her eyebrows, her redden face, her mouth’s thing and her behaviour – it might not amenity in others’ attitude – but for him, they were adorable and pleasant.

“This is not the time, Cass. I really mean it! Do not charm your way out off trouble! The temperature here is proper, it makes fungus spreading and causing virus!” She continually complained, suddenly she was hugged by Cassian. His pointy nose on her cheeks, while his stubble tickling her jawline and the neck. “Cassian! Stop!”

“If you want me to stop, try me, darling.” Cassian saw that she was doing nothing but be grumpy. Finally, he smirked, carrying her onto his shoulder and ignoring her protesting, from a small kitchen to their bed. Of course, she did not stop yelling until he peppered the kisses all over her face and her lips.  

Tag : @starwarsficnetwork

#dance me to the end of queue #star wars fanfiction #rogue one fanfiction #cassian andor #cassian andor fanfiction #cassian andor x reader #cassian andor x f!reader #cassian andor x female reader #cassian andor x you #female reader #reader insert #diego luna x reader #septimaseverinawannawrite #saturday seven

[thescarletfang]

Presence

Okay, who do I think I am starting a Cassian Andor series?!

Anyway, this is the first part. Stupidly nervous about this. Cassian is hard to write. Star Wars is hard for me to write. But I like challenging myself as a writer. 

This is “Presence” - part one.

Cassian Andor x RebelMedNurse

This can be read as a reader insert, but fair warning my reader inserts are much more OCs. Minor reader description. TBH I just love writing in 2nd POV, so I will be describing the “reader” a little here and there but overall, keeping it vague! 

Summary: You’re a med nurse on Yavin 4 and you’re terrified of Captain Cassian Andor. His reputation precedes him, obviously. But as you get to know the intimidating rebel leader, you’re surprised at what you find. 

Wordcount: 3.4k

Warnings: slight reader description, swearing, mentions of death, slow burn, angst. eventual smut? maybe? light smut eventually? idk rn. HAPPY ENDING BC LIFE IS HARD AND ROGUE ONE IS V SAD AND BEAUTIFUL BUT I NEED COMFORT RN. all my work is 18+, minors DNI

The first time Captain Cassian Andor comes to you in the medical center on Yavin 4, you’re so tired you can barely keep your eyes open.

It’s not your preferred way to meet the highly respected and incredibly intimidating rebel captain, but a crew got in late the night before from a mission that resulted in more broken bones and open wounds than you could count. You haven’t slept. You’ve been running from bed to bed, making sure the operatives are stable and healing. You’ve applied more bacta than you can remember in recent memory, and your medisensor is going to need a new power pack any second.

So you try not to be too hard on yourself when you’re told to treat Captain Andor for a deep cut across his chest, and you’re humiliated immediately at your state. He’s Cassian Andor, after all. Famous within the ranks of the Rebel Alliance, his reputation precedes him. You’ve heard through the few gossiping nurses in the messhall that he’s a deadly assassin and spy and his body count is unmatched. You remember feeling sick and pushing your caf away upon hearing that last part. 

You know everyone loves (or fears) Cassian Andor, but as you walk into the med room where he’s sitting on a cot waiting for you, you’re nervous. You’re a nurse in the Alliance, after all - your one job is to keep everyone alive. It seems to be in direct contradiction to everything Andor stands for: death for the cause is unavoidable. It is what it is, seems to be the way of men like Andor.

Which is fine. It should be fine, at least. You’re not a fool. You’re not so naive that you expect some storybook version of what is actually happening - you know death is inevitable, especially for the cause. You know that you are as replaceable as any meddroid - sure, organic medical personnel are fewer and farther between than meddroids in the Alliance, but you are not special. You are not worthy of life anymore than anyone else. You are a cog in the rebel machine. You know what you’ve signed up for.

This knowledge doesn’t make things in war easier to stomach, though. 

Since you are a living, breathing human med nurse, you are forced to go into battle. You are on rotation for missions, and you’ve seen the bloodshed and death close-up. You’ve stitched together dying men and women, dying Twi’leks and Rodians, and everything in between.

Loss is embedded in the vey fabric of your being.

It still hurts, though.

So when you look upon Cassian Andor, you are nervous. 

He, however, looks like he’s in a shit ton of pain. 

Andor hisses and cringes as he adjusts the grip he has on his uniform, clutching the front of it where red blossoms out. Along with his chest wound, he’s pretty banged up: there’s a layer of dirt and grime across the bridge of his slightly crooked nose, his hair is going every which way, he has a beard that looks like it needs trimming, and the beginnings of a bruise on his cheek.  You make a mental note to run a diagnostic on his entire person after you’ve tended to the cut that appears to continue bleeding.

“Captain Andor,” you say, grateful that your voice is steady. When his eyes flick up to you, you’re ashamed that your own immediately flick down to the datapad in your hand. You look over his chart. You hate that you’re nervous. “While on your mission you experienced a laceration across your chest? And you landed back on base at 0600?”

Andor grunts a noise of assent and you lift your eyes from the datapad. You’re startled to see he’s looking at you. His eyes are very dark. You have to physically refrain from gulping. 

“The medic in the field couldn’t assist with the wound?” Your question hangs for a moment. You see Andor’s jaw tense.

He does his best impression of a shrug - the most he can do in his current condition. 

“There was no time,” he says and you immediately notice the rasp to his voice. It’s a low voice, his accent lilting, and Maker this man is terrifying, honestly. You tell yourself to get it together. You tell yourself it’s because you’re so tired, it’s like you’re running on fumes. You tell yourself these things to keep from facing the truth: you’re afraid of Captain Cassian Andor.

You nod, setting down the datapad on the counter, and turn to put on your medical gloves. You take your sonic scalpel into your hand and face Andor again. He’s really doing his best to not show how much pain he’s in, and for a moment your intimidation of him is replaced by annoyance. 

Men, you think, internally scoffing. At the end of the day, they’re all the same. 

“I’ll need to sonic your uniform off to access the wound without further disturbing it,” you explain, pulling a stool over and sitting down, knee-to-knee with Andor. He nods. “Can you lie down for me?”

He does as he’s told and you’re grateful. You’re not sure what you expected - maybe him putting up a fight? Demoralizing you? Not letting you do your job? You think that’s not very fair of you, all these assumptions about this man. But - again - all you know is that he’s a ruthless killer and spy. These things make him a great rebel warrior. They do not necessarily mean they make him a great man.

When Andor is lying on his back, you begin to sonic open the front of his uniform. He hisses.

“Sorry,” you mutter, your nerves fleeing once you’re actually doing your job. It’s what makes you an exceptional nurse. You can laser-focus on a task, and everything else becomes background noise.

He clears his throat as you work through the front seam. 

“No need to apologize,” he says, his voice a bit strained. “You’re doing your job.” 

Your eyes flick to his face and you see his are closed, his jaw tense. Another moment and you’ve made it to his waist. You place your sonic scalpel on a tray on the counter. 

“I’m going to open your uniform now,” you say. In your experience, it’s always best to narrate everything you’re doing to a patient. “That way I can see how bad the damage is.”

He nods imperceptibly and your hands take the fabric gently, pushing it on either side of his torso as far as possible. Somewhere, in the very back of your mind, you register that Cassian Andor has a very nice chest. Then, you immediately reprimand that tiny whisper because it’s incredibly inappropriate. You feel ashamed you even thought of it.

The laceration itself is thankfully better than you anticipated. The meddroid who had handed you Andor’s chart - being a droid - had delivered in a monotone, so it sounded a lot worse than it actually was. While it is deeper than a graze, it is not going to leave Andor with any permanent damage.

You hold your hands above his chest and meet his eyes. “May I?” 

“You really think I’m going to say no?” Andor grits out and you can’t help yourself - you breathe out a laugh. You are shocked when you see the corner of Andor’s mouth twitch upwards. Is…Captain Andor making a joke?

You raise your eyebrows at the man. “I don’t know you, sir. Maybe you would’ve.” 

Now it’s Andor’s turn to bark out a laugh and it immediately turns into a groan of pain. You grimace. 

“Try not to…do anything,” you mutter as you brace your left hand on the side of his torso, using your right to reach over and grab the irrigation bulb. You point the nozzle of the bulb at the end of the laceration. 

“I’m going to cleanse the wound before stitching it together,” you continue to explain but you think Andor’s in so much pain that there’s no way he’s listening. “This is going to sting.”

Andor grits his teeth as you cleanse the wound and once you’re done, you notice his (very nice) chest is rising and falling rapidly - he’s short on breath from the pain. You scoot your stool closer to him - you’re in his space. 

“Hanging in there, Captain?” You ask it earnestly but he shoots you a raised eyebrow. 

You think he scoffs but that could also be his labored breathing. 

“I’ve had much worse,” he says and you look at him, in his big brown eyes and you think I bet you have, you scary son-of-a-bitch. 

You clear your throat. You continue your work. Your gloved hand presses down against Andor’s bruised torso and you see his skin jump beneath your touch. You work quickly, quietly, and focused. You know that Andor is a Very Important Person in the Alliance, so you do what you need to do, and quickly. 

You’re almost through stitching him when you say, “This looks worse than it is. You’re going to make a full recovery, Captain Andor.”

He grunts, hissing when you pull the last thread through his skin. You reach over to the scissors, cutting the thread off quickly. You bite your lip as you apply bacta spray to the wound, to seal in the sutures. When you flick your eyes back to Andor, you’re surprised he’s looking at you. 

You swallow. “Yes?”

He just keeps looking at you and it’s disarming. It’s like he’s studying you, like he can see into your brain and you are a little mortified. 

“Thank you for sewing me up,” he tells you and you cannot for the life of you tell if he’s teasing you or earnest. 

“It’s my job,” you point out and he nods and begins to sit up. You reach out to help him, your hands taking hold of his left bicep. You find yourself pushing away another incredibly inappropriate thought - that Captain Andor has a nice bicep. What is wrong with you? It’s so insanely unprofessional, you should be fired–

“I think I’m good,” Andor says and you look up at him and realize you’re still holding his arm and okay, now he is definitely teasing you because despite his bruised face you can see the mirth in his eyes. You let go of him as if he burned you with fire. 

“Of course,” you say, clearing your throat. You stand up quickly as Andor uselessly tries to cover himself with his torn uniform. You avoid looking at him as you grab the datapad. “You will be cleared for combat within 48 hours.” 

Andor grunts and you look over. He’s struggling to somehow cover himself with his tattered uniform. You take pity on the man, pulling a standard black tunic from a drawer. 

“I think that part of your uniform is a goner,” you say. He looks at you and you hold up the med-issued tunic reserved for patients. He takes it from your hands. He winces.

“I can help you,” you say. He looks like he’s about to refuse and you refrain from rolling your eyes. “Stand up, will you?”

He stands and you hesitate for just a moment before you remove your gloves. Tossing them on medical table, your bare hands take hold of the shoulders of his ruined uniform and you slide it off his back. You’re standing behind him and you realize you’re very close to him. When his uniform is off, you throw it onto the cot and Andor turns around to face you.

And now not only are you standing close to the man, but you’re facing him as well and he doesn’t have a shirt on. You curse the slight tremor in your hands. He’s just…he’s so much and there are all these stories about him and you try so hard to pretend he’s just another operative. 

He’s looking at you as he raises his arms and oh my god, are you fucking blushing? It feels like you are blushing. You avoid his gaze as you lift up on your toes to bring the black tunic over his arms. But he’s taller than you so you have to reach as for as you can to bring it over his head. When the collar of the shirt is brought down and his messy, bedhead hair is standing on end, you realize you’re standing even closer and your chests are nearly touching. 

“Careful now,” you say softly, helping his arms through each sleeve. He grunts, the sound either due to pain or annoyance at your instruction, but then the blessed shirt is on but he’s still looking at you, those dark eyes just boring into your own and you have to take a step back because you can feel his body heat radiating off of him and onto you.

Is the corner of his mouth lifting? Are you just imagining that? 

“Thank you…” he says, but trails off. He looks at you expectantly. 

You tell him your name. You don’t know why you tell him your name but it tumbles from your lips immediately. And yes, now he seems to definitely be smirking as he says it back to you. You think your name sounds really nice in Andor’s voice. 

And then he leaves, rapping his fist twice on the doorframe as he exits. He doesn’t look back.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding the second you’re alone in the room. You realize you didn’t do the full body scan like you had planned to. You look around for a moment, flustered. You put your hands on your hips.

You think the scariest part about Captain Cassian Andor is how he didn’t seem very scary at all. 

* * * 

A few days later you are in the messhall in the middle of the night because an operative died on your watch and this one hurt.

She was young. Younger than you by at least five years. She was tiny and small and looked more like a child than you’d ever seen on the field. She’d returned from a mission with a blaster shot through her abdomen. It wouldn’t stop bleeding. You held your hands to her wound as the meddroid buzzed around you, preparing for surgery and then a second later she’d taken her last breath. You swear the blood stains are still on your hands, though you’ve scrubbed them raw. 

You stare down into your long-cold caf and you cannot help it. You try so hard to keep the tears at bay but they will up in your eyes and spill down your cheeks without your permission. And since you’re already crying, you put your head into your hands and you just give into the feeling of utter loss. Your shoulders tremble and your nose is running and you let yourself cry, alone, in this empty messhall. 

You are tired. You are homesick. You are afraid.

And with the sound of a footstep, you realize you are not alone. 

You look up sharply and for a moment you can’t see anything because your tears have blurred your vision. You wipe your eyes and then you see Captain Andor standing in the doorway, his shoulders tense, his hands in his pockets, and he’s looking right at you.

“Sorry, I didn’t–I came for some caf, and you were here,” he explains. He sounds a little nervous but through the fog of your exhaustion and sadness, you don’t register his nerves as strange. You sniffle. You’re mortified. 

“I’ll go,” you mutter and you make a move to get up but Andor steps forward and you freeze.

“No, please, it’s fine.” 

You make eye contact with him and you see how tired he is. His eyes are bloodshot, he has a full beard, and his hair is going every which way. You nod and sit back down, taking a steadying breath. For a moment you think he’s going to leave and you have no opinion on the matter - honestly, all of this feels a little like a dream anyway. You’re not quite sure you aren’t sleeping.

But then Andor shuffles past you, toward the caf station, and you hear him go about making himself a cup. You take this time to gather yourself, and you’re thankful your shuddering breaths have stopped but you can’t control your eyes. They leak tears down your cheeks and you decide to just let them. It’s like your body is begging for release and you’re too tired to fight it.

Once again, you expect Captain Andor to leave but he surprises you. You hear the chair opposite you creak across the floor and when you look up, Andor is sitting across from you. He wipes a hand down his face and lets out a shuttering sigh and takes a sip of his caf. 

He catches you staring at him. You don’t drop your gaze. It’s in the middle of the night in the messhall when most of the base is their barracks - the rules feel different. 

Your voice is scratchy when you ask, “Trouble sleeping?” 

Andor’s fingers tap on his cup of caf. “Always.” 

You huff a humorless laugh. You see the corner of his mouth flick up. 

“You?” he asks. 

You nod. You think it’s the late hour and the lack of sleep and the weight of grief on your shoulders because you say, “Sometimes it just…feels like a lot.”

It’s a grossly inadequate statement and it can’t possibly capture everything that you feel but Andor doesn’t even blink. He’s looking at you and a shadow of understanding passes over his face.

“Yeah, it does,” he says. His voice is low and gravelly and it’s anchoring you, tethering you to this room. You can feel the floor beneath your boots. You can feel the stiff chair against your back. The coldness of the room caresses your wet cheeks. You’re still crying, the tears falling, but you feel calm. You feel present. 

A curl has come loose from your ponytail and you tuck it behind your ear. Andor’s eyes follow the movement. You give him the smallest of grins. Captain Cassian Andor gives a tiny one back.

You don’t say anything for the rest of the thirty minutes you sit together, finishing your cafs. When you’ve taken the last tepid sip, you stand up. Andor follows suit, and you both throw your cups away, making your way out of the messhall and into the moonlight.

“Do you need me to walk you to the barracks?” he asks and it’s such a bizarre question that you can’t tell if he’s joking or not. But he seems earnest, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“No,” you laugh, because you can’t help it. Why in the world would you need him to walk you back to your barracks? You think it’s a habit leftover from his life before - walking a crying woman back to her room. But that doesn’t matter here. Not on Yavin 4. Not in a war. 

He laughs back. If the moonlight was a little brighter, you’d see a blush graze his cheeks, but in the darkness you don’t notice. 

“Right,” he says. You stand there, opposite one another, outside of the messhall and it’s awkward for a moment. This is so insane, you keep thinking. You have never been alone with Andor before you sewed him up earlier in the week and now it’s happened twice.

“Okay, well. Goodnight, Captain Andor.”

“Cassian.”

You furrow your brow. “Huh?”

“Uh, just Cassian is fine,” he says, clearing his throat. “Captain Andor sounds like someone I don’t know.”

Your eyebrows raise at this little confession and you feel like you’re seeing this man a little clearer. Like the haze around him is lessening, and he’s a little bit more in sharper focus. 

“Cassian,” you repeat, and he’s looking at the ground with a little grin. He says your name back, still looking at the ground, and you’re taken aback by how charming you think that is.

His eyes flick to you once more before he nods, and heads off to his quarters. You watch him for a moment, the moonlight making his silhouette glow a little, and you realize that your tears have stopped.  

That night - for the first night in a very long time - you sleep soundly.

#cassian andor x f!reader #cassian andor #cassian andor fanfiction #cassian andor x oc #cassian andor x you #cassian andor fluff #rogue one fanfiction #rogue one #cassian andor x reader

[madhattervanessa]

Kinktober 2022 - #14

Kinks: Oral Fixation, Blindfold

Words: 1005

Pairing: Cassian Andor x f!Reader

Kinktober Masterlist

It's agonizing to work beside you, Cassian decides as he watches you bite your thumb. Your lips close around the cut in your skin, delicately sucking the blood from the wound before you let go of it - he knows he is staring but he is transfixed by the way you lick another stray drop of blood from your skin before your tongue disappears behind your beautiful lips.

He watches you smile before you move your lips again, moving around the words you are saying while your fingertips drag over the corner of your mouth.

"...Cassian? Are you listening to me?”

He blinks and meets your eyes that are already squinted, the twinkle in them letting him know full well that he has been caught red handed.

“I was distracted.”

You hum and let your hand smooth over the map the two of you had been talking about. He grasps your hand out of instinct, carefully bringing it up to his lips to kiss the back of it before dragging it over his shoulder.

You follow the motion until you are pressed up against each other. Cassian inhales your scent, his nose dragging over your jaw before he kisses your earlobe.

“Cas”, you sigh and he smiles as he walks you backwards, back towards the small hole in the wall you two had shared as a bed for weeks now. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing”, he murmurs and you look up at him before you both stumble into the bed, the hard mattress hardly cushioning the fall. You barely escape his hard grip on your face, carefully straddling his hips as he starts to lay back on his elbows.

You grab a stray scarf and hold it up to his face. He just tilts his head at you but takes it. “Put it on. It’s going to help you concentrate.”

He has the fabric tied around his eyes in two easy twists of his hands. When he reaches for you next, you bat his hands away before pushing him down again.

He groans and you bite back a grin before you carefully lean in towards his ear.

You gently wrap your lips around the lobe of his ear and tug - you get a short hum for an answer but you can feel him, hard and wanting underneath you.

You let your lips trail over his jaw, over to his chin and you feel his breath catch underneath your hands.

You kiss him, just briefly and just enough for him to grow antsy under your touch. You hush him and move further down, down to his neck where you playfully nip at his skin.

You grab his hand and he opens it for you, without question, letting you guide his fingers to touch your mouth.

“What were you thinking about?”, you murmur, before guiding his thumb to rest on your bottom lip. He lets his fingers dip further, into your mouth and you hum as you feel it press against your tongue.

He moans and you let your tongue rub against the pad of it. Your lips close around it and you suck on it as he squirms underneath your hips.

When you let go of it, he smears the spit over your lips. You move towards the end of the mattress, pulling at his shirt until you find skin that you can kiss.

You pull at his pants next and lick over the trail leading you down, down until you can take his hard cock out of the pants.

“Is this what you were thinking about?”, you tease, and he groans your name like it’s a curse as you let your wet lips trail over the length of his cock, smearing your spit over him before you let your tongue dart out to follow the trail back up.

“Y-Yes. Yes it was- oh..” you hear him muffle another moan behind his bitten lip as you reward him with your mouth wrapping around the head of him. 

You risk a look upwards and smooth a hand over his hips, over his chest, before scratching at his skin. You receive another moan and his hand blindly searches for yours. You bob your head up and back down, losing yourself in a slow rhythm.

Cassian squirms and you faintly feel him sitting up. His legs spread wider and his hand cradles your jaw. You swallow around him and as you look up, you see him dragging the blindfold off of his face. He is gulping around large breaths, his pupils blown wide as he watches you.

“Just like that-” he grunts and you feel him wipe at the drool in the corner of your mouth before he drags you down. The tip of him nudges against the back of your throat. You gag but let him do it again until tears form in the corners of your eyes.

You frantically shove a hand down your own pants. You push a finger between the wet lips of your pussy and furiously rub at your throbbing clit.

“Baby- that’s- I’m going to cum”, he gasps and you hum around him, your eyes closing as you focus before shoving yourself down until your nose brushes against the faint trail of hair above his cock before you swallow around him. He comes with a groan and you barely manage to swallow what he gives you. Some of it manages to squeeze out of your mouth, staining your lips and chin as you sit back.

He is heaving loud, gasping breaths, and you smile as you watch him come back down from his orgasm only to furrow his brows and moan as he swipes a finger over your chin. He brings a smear of his cum up to your lips. You meet his eyes as you lick it clean.

“Think you’ll be able to focus now?”

You’re hauled up back into the sheets with an exasperated mutter - and you get a firsthand demonstration of how well Cassian is able to focus when he wants to.

#star wars #cassian andor #cassian x reader #cassian x f!reader #cassian andor x reader #cassian andor x f!reader #kinktober #kinktober 2022 #kinktober2022

[merrymermaidstuff]

𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐜 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: 𝐌𝐚𝐲 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑

𝑆𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑦 𝑓𝑖𝑐𝑠 𝐼 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑚𝑜𝑛𝑡ℎ

𝑫𝒊𝒏 𝑫𝒋𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏:

The Sweetest Melody by @noisynaia

White Fields by @noisynaia

Simply Din Djarin by @absurdthirst

Pretty Picture by @groguspicklejar

Competing For Christmas (Series) by @something-tofightfor

𝑪𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒂𝒏 𝑨𝒏𝒅𝒐𝒓:

For so long by @writingdumpster

About you by @amywritesthings

Hold me through the storm by @archieimagines

𝑴𝒐𝒐𝒏𝒃𝒐𝒚𝒔:

Clumsy by @marvelsswansong

Lunchbox by @writingforcurrentobsessions2

Chocolate by @bits-and-babs

Ice breaker by @bluehourbucky

𝑱𝒐𝒆𝒍 𝑴𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒓:

Sharing is caring by @noisynaia

Fondness by @nonexistent-introvert

Comfort you by @northernbluess

Tommorow never came by @noisynaia

Muscle memory by @tieronecrush

𝑻𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒚 𝑴𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒓:

The best thank you by @augustghosts

Soft by @mewhenimsad

𝑨𝒃𝒃𝒚 𝑨𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏:

Summer heat by @toasty-melons

Cruel intensions by @ourautumn86

#fic rec #din djarin x reader #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockely x reader #cassian andor x reader #joel miller x reader #tommy miller x reader #abby anderson x reader #mando x reader #din djarin x f!reader

[pedrito-friskito]

cassian andor + smut prompt #10

i am a whore <3

nonnie if you're a whore I'm a whore 🤍

you called - cassian andor x fem!reader

word count: 3.1k (this one got away from me can you tell?)

warnings: unprotected p-in-v, brief oral (f receiving), jealous/possessive!cassian

“Two shots of Corellian whiskey, please,” you ask, stepping up to the bar beside Cassian. The sound of your voice almost makes him jump, but he hides the movement smoothly, adjusting in his seat. From the corner of his eye, he watches you lean back against the bar, propping your elbows on it. You wait for a few other patrons to pass before you drop your voice low. “You’re late.”

“I am not late,” he grumbles, polishing off the rest of his own drink. “I’ve been here waiting for you for hours now.”

You scoff a laugh, shaking your head. “After all this time and you still think you can lie to me, Cassian? You don’t think I had a lock on your ship the moment it entered the atmosphere?”

He balks, tries to hide it and fails. You’re good. Too good. He doesn’t say a word, shakes his head as the bartender returns with two shot glasses, placing them on the bar between you and him.

“That Fondor looks like it’s more mod than original,” you comment, reaching for one of the shots. “Where’d you steal it?”

“I didn’t steal it,” he shoots back, watching your brow raise. “It’s on loan, from a friend.”

“You don’t have friends, Cassian,” you quip, tossing back your shot. You slide the second one over to him. “Just people you owe money to.”

“I don’t owe you any money,” he mutters, unable to stop himself from giving you a cheeky grin. “What does that make us? Friends?”

“You know exactly what we are,” you return, giving him a sideways glance before setting your glass back down. “The mark just walked in. Keep an eye out, will you?”

“I always do,” he replies, and then you’re gone.

This is an old habit for Cassian. He’s known you a long time; you grew up on Ferrix same as him, but you managed to get off-world far before he could bring himself to. By the time he first met up with you on Coruscant, you had already started to make a name for yourself in the Capital’s underworld, and Cassian was in awe. He longed to get the hell off of Ferrix, to go somewhere warm and easy and carefree. He knew Coruscant wasn’t that place, but judging by the amount of credits you were raking in, it was a step in the right direction.

You sent for him often, over the years. He was the only one you trusted to watch your back, to keep a careful eye while you gathered intel, traded information with some of the shadier types in the galaxy. Most jobs went off without a hitch, but there were more than a handful of times where Cassian had started bar brawls to get you the hell out of dodge. He hadn’t had to kill anyone yet, but after everything that’s happened to him, he wouldn’t be surprised.

This is the first time he’s seen you, since everything happened on Ferrix. Maarva, Bix, B2. Luthen and his newborn rebellion. Cassian doesn’t totally know where he stands, what he’s doing, what his next move might be. But when he picked up your signal, Luthen loaned him the ship with little protest, and he was jumping through hyperspace an hour later.

You call, and he comes. It’s how it’s always been.

There had always been something between you, Cassian knew that much. His reputation might not have been the most pristine, but you never seemed to mind, having a bit of a rep yourself. 

But tonight…He could hear the unspoken in your voice, the strain of the events of the last time you met up. The job hadn’t been the issue - it had gone perfectly, in fact - but after, you asked him to walk you back to the apartment you had on the other side of the district.

He’d done as you asked, going so far as to bring you right to your front door. You’d asked him if he wanted to come inside, and before he could get the word yes past his teeth, you’d grabbed him by the front of his collar, and kissed him.

Clothes scattered on the floor, you’d stumbled your way to your bedroom. It was…blissful, in a word. It was everything he felt like he was missing, and that unspoken thing rumbled through you both, but there in your bed, he didn’t think it needed to be spoken aloud. It just…was.

Morning had come too quickly, and when he woke, you were gone. No note, nothing, just his clothes folded and stacked on the table beside the bed. He’d dressed quickly, and got on the next ship to Ferrix.

He wants to ask. He wants to know why you didn’t stay, why you didn’t leave him any sign that you wanted him to stay. But after everything that’s happened, it feels inconsequential, almost.

Cassian drinks down the shot, setting the glass down on the bar with a little too much force. You’re easy to spot, weaving your way through the bar to a man lurking in the dark corner. Brow furrowing, his hand brushes over his coat, where his blaster sits, tucked against his hip. He’s gotten quick on the draw, since he last saw you.

The man spots you as you draw closer, and Cassian bristles at the recognition on his face. He’s glad to see you, and it only becomes more and more evident as the two of you move closer and closer together, heads bowed as you speak, the man’s hand moving to rest on your hip. Then it moves up your back, pressing into the dip of your spine, and Cassian grits his teeth.

Something like jealousy flares in his gut. No, not something like it, but the thing itself.

He wants to touch you like that again, like he had that night. Seeing someone else with their hands on you…his fingers twitch over the blaster again.

No, something else warns him, a clearer voice in his head. That won’t go well, and you know it.

So instead, he watches. He leans back as casually as he can, one elbow leaned on the bar, tapping his other hand against his thigh. The conversation doesn’t last much longer, and before he knows it, you’re returning to his side, a contented grin on your face.You toss your hair over your shoulder as you wave down the bartender again. “Another round.”

“Got everything you needed?”

“And then some,” you reply, looking at him over your shoulder. “Thank you for coming, Cassian.”

He just nods. “That’s what friends are for, right?”

“We’re not friends,” you say, shaking your head as the bartender brings you another two shots. You toss them both back quickly. “I thought we made that clear the last time you were here.”

“The last time?” he repeats, lifting a brow. “You mean when you dragged me to bed and disappeared the next morning? That last time?”

He doesn’t mean for it to come out with such venom, but it does. Jealousy has taken hold of him and refuses to let go. His blood boils with it.

You narrow your eyes at him, your tongue poking between your lips to wet them. He watches the movement and ignores the way it makes his trousers tighten. He’s mad at you, he’s so glad to see you, he’s infuriated at you for leaving him alone last time, he’s so in love with you he might burst into flames.

“You’re jealous,” you determine, and though everything in him screams YES!, he rolls his eyes, turning half away from you. But you don’t let him go far, grabbing his shoulder and spinning his stool back in your direction. “Tell me I’m wrong, Cassian.”

Your hand moves from his shoulder to his thigh, and Cassian’s jaw goes tight. “We are not friends.”

“No,” you agree. “We’re more than that.”

“And your way of telling me that was disappearing the next morning, waiting three months, and then calling me to be your sidekick again?”

Your face falls, and you step back, removing your hand from his leg. “Come with me.”

Without another word, you turn on your heel and stalk out of the bar. Cassian only finds it in him to move when you reach the doorway, and then he’s all but chasing you, walking the almost familiar path to your apartment. You take the stairs, seeming to float up them as Cassian almost struggles to keep up. He loses you for a moment, but when he reaches your door, it’s open, only closing when he steps inside.

He calls your name, hears your quiet in here come from the direction of your bedroom. The place looks the same as he remembers and as he rounds the corner of the hallway, stepping into your room, he finds you perched at the edge of your bed.

“I left in the morning to get us breakfast,” you admit, looking up at Cassian, your eyes shining in the dark. “I’m not here a lot, and there wasn’t any food, so I went to get us something. When I came back, you were gone, and I realized I’d made a mistake.”

He says your name again, softer, and you shake your head.

“And then I started hearing the rumours, about Ferrix, about you. I heard about Aldhani, about Narkina-5, all of it. I even called Brasso, and that was when he told me about Maarva. I’ve been trying to call you ever since then, but nothing was going through. Then I met Vel, and she gave me the right frequency to contact you.”

Cassian sighs, leaning against the doorway. He never even questioned how you’d gotten his contact info after he was off Ferrix…he just…

You called, he came.

“You met Vel,” he says, unsure of what else to say.

You nod. “Hell of a woman.”

Cassian nods. “So you know, then. About the Rebellion.”

“I do. Figured I should put my talents to good use. Better than ripping off ex-senators and making credits I don’t need. And, if it keeps me closer to you, then it’s a win on all sides, as far as I can tell.”

His stomach drops into his toes. “You’re joining?”

You nod again. “Aren’t you?”

“Yes. I tried to resist it, I really did. But now…everything else seems…”

“Meaningless?” you supply. You pull your eyes from his. “For what it’s worth, Cassian, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t call you sooner. I’m sorry about Maarva, Ferrix, all of it. ”

“You didn’t cause it,” he replies, propping his hands on his hips. “I did that all by myself.”

“Come here,” you say, your voice going soft and your eyes meeting his once more. “Please?”

Slowly, he closes the distance. He watches you reach for him, your hands moving to the belt that holds his blaster, undoing it quickly and letting it slip to the floor. He tries not to groan when your hands move under his loose shirt, fingers curling around his hips. 

Silently, he shakes his coat off, letting it drop to the ground before he hooks two fingers in the back of his shirt, pulling it forward off his torso. It joins the pile on the floor and then he hisses, your teeth sinking into the skin over his hip bone. He lets one hand dive into your hair, holding you against him, feeling your tongue soothe the mark you’ve left behind.

“Promise me something,” he whispers, and you tilt your head back, pulling your mouth from his skin long enough to meet his eyes.

“Anything.”

“Promise you’ll still be here in the morning.”

“I promise.”

You kiss your way across his waist, fingers working the button on his trousers while you distract him with your mouth. He’s got both hands in your hair now, silk between his knuckles, and it almost pulls his focus completely, enough that you have to repeat the next words out of your mouth.

“You never answered me.”

“Huh?”

“Back at the bar, I said you were jealous. You never answered me.”

You pull his zipper down, snap the elastic of his boxers against his skin. Cassian hisses. “I thought it was obvious.”

“It was,” you agree, nipping at his hip again. “I just wanted to hear you say it.”

He tightens his grip on your hair and pulls, just hard enough that your head tilts back and he bends slightly, pulling his body away from yours, but putting his face close enough that he can feel your breath on his cheek.

“You have any idea how much I hated seeing someone else touch you? Someone else put their hands on you?”

You inhale sharply, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, and Cassian prods it with his thumb, pulling it free, rubbing the pad of his thumb across the plush of your lip. “Show me.”

And he does.

He makes quick work of your clothes, shucking his trouses off once you’re naked on the bed. You don’t let him go far, surging up to kiss him when he steps back to undress completely. Your hands are in his hair, same as his are in yours, and Cassian groans when you tug, both of you finding similar pleasure in the movement.

The first night was different. You’d stumbled your way through the dark, finding your peaks quickly. You’d fallen asleep after, and Cassian had watched you for a while before drifting off. That unspoken thing lulled him to sleep.

But now, he turns the bedside light on. The room illuminates with a soft orange glow, and he leans over you, until you fall back against the pillows and blankets, laid out for him, reaching for him. He molds himself into your palms, covers your body with his own. 

The first night, he hadn’t had the chance to taste you. Refusing to miss out a second time, he arranges you on the bed, pushing your knees apart to make room for his shoulders, tracing his mouth along the inside of your thigh, eyes darting between your glistening cunt and your face, the way your eyes roll back in your skull when he buries his head between your legs and sucks your clit between his teeth.

He wants to feel you cum on his face, to feel your thighs tremble around his ears, but you have other ideas. You haul him up with a gasp, fitting your mouth to his and licking your taste out of his mouth. “I wanted to-” he starts, but you cut him off, reaching between your bodies and squeezing your fingers around his cock.

“Plenty of time for that later,” you murmur, lips at his jaw, words spoken into his skin. “Right now I need you inside me, Cass.”

He groans as you stroke him, curling your wrist just right, but then he pulls your hand away, pinning your wrists either side of your head. Using his knees, he spreads your legs wide and drops his hips, the tip of his cock dragging through your wetness.

“Please,” you beg, your own hips lifting, chasing him, trying to notch his cock at your entrance. He teases you a moment longer, waits for the angle to be just right, and then he pushes into you. Your fingers flex against the bedsheets, mouth dropping open with a moan as his hips press into yours. Your legs twitch, one calf wrapping around his thigh. “Cassian, fuck, oh my-”

He covers your mouth with his, swallowing down your words and moans. You tighten around him, impossibly so, and he starts to move, finding his rhythm, filling you to the hilt with each thrust only to pull out almost all the way and do it all over again. Over and over and over, and you’re babbling into his mouth, straining against his hold. He leans up just that much more, pulling his lips from yours, both of you staring down at the spot where you’re joined, where he’s disappearing into you with every move.

“I’m the only one who gets to touch you like this, yes?” he grunts, hearing you gasp as he gives you one particularly hard thrust. He feels your head wobble with a nod, but he wants to hear it. “Say it.”

“Only you, Cass,” you breathe out, throwing your head back as you go even tighter around him. “Oh gods, fuck, only you.”

Pleasure coils like a serpent at the base of his spine, and he drops, trying not to smother you with his weight, pressing his face into the arch of your throat. You moan loudly as he releases your hands, curling his own around your shoulders while yours find purchase in his hair again. The bed shakes with your movement, both legs lifting to wrap around his waist now, your ankles hooked together at the small of his back. “Please, please, please, please, please,” you beg and Cassian bites at your pulse, groaning into your skin as his release threatens to overtake him.

“Cum for me,” he says, and you obey.

Your back arches and you make the sweetest sounds. He wants to bottle them, keep them for himself. He rides out your orgasm, keeping his own pleasure at bay until you’ve caught your breath, sighing at the press of him inside you, pulling him close. “Now you,” you whisper, nipping at his ear, lifting your hips so he gets that much deeper inside you, the warmth enough to swallow him whole. “Let me feel you.”

You call, and he comes.

He growls into your throat, fingers digging deep into your shoulders. You press kisses along his cheek, the space below his ear, his temple. Murmurs of how good it feels, how you missed him, how you’ll never let him go again, it’s the backdrop to the pleasure roaring through his body. It makes every muscle in him tense up before he relaxes completely, sinking into your embrace.

His eyes drop shut as he softens inside you, completely spent. Your fingers comb through his hair, soft kisses still scattered across whatever skin you can reach. After a few minutes, he finds the strength to roll off of you, falling onto the bed at your side.

You kiss his mouth before you get up, disappearing into the fresher for a moment, coming back with a glass of water for you both to share. Cassian gulps down the liquid as you slide back into bed with him, pulling the blankets over you both. You go to turn out the light, but he stops you.

“I’m not done with you yet.”

#my fics #sleepover sundae #cassian andor #cassian andor fic #cassian andor smut #cassian andor angst #cassian andor x reader #cassian andor x you #you called

[dameronscopilot]

PLEASE can I please request Cassian x fem reader that involves thigh riding and the use of „good girl“ because I‘m a slut for this man

fell into place

cassian andor x f!reader

summary: in which a tight space and Cassian's firm thigh lead to an inevitable outcome. so maybe you don't hate him quite as much as you think you do.

word count: 1.1k

18+

content: NSFW, smut, enemies to lovers vibes, thigh riding, oral fixation, coming untouched, coming in pants, dirty talk (mentions of: unprotected sex, creampies, masturbation)

a/n: i haven't written Cassian in so long, but this idea literally tackled me to the ground and held me hostage the moment i read this ask. thanks nonnie!

Cassian Andor is the bane of your existence. 

Between his arrogant, reserved nature, his do-or-die attitude, and every stupidly handsome hair on his annoyingly pretty head. 

Fuck him. 

Fuck him and his cocky little smirks and the way he purposely let his beard grow back in just to drive you halfway out of your mind. 

Fuck the way he thinks he can show you up in every flight and blaster drill, only to still have the audacity to give you something akin to bedroom eyes when you pass him on the base late at night. The way he sometimes tilts his head when he looks at you from across the mess hall the next morning, a small smile tugging at his lips—as if he knows the muffled little sounds as you fingered yourself in the privacy of your quarters were his name. 

Over and over and over and—

Fuck his assumption that you’ll let him in, just because you’re as broken as he is. Maybe a little bit more, really. 

It’s these thoughts that are playing like a mantra in your head as you find yourself in a precarious position: wedged in a narrow, inconspicuous trench on the outskirts of an Imperial camp. With nowhere to run and your cover nearly blown in broad daylight, the two of you had no choice but to backtrack and slip into the small, overgrown, and undoubtedly long-forgotten hiding spot to wait for the safety of nightfall. 

And it would be fine—frustrating, but fine—if it weren’t for the fact that the trench was clearly made for one person.

…which is why you’re now awkwardly wedged in Cassian’s lap, straddling one of his thighs and forced to stare at his infuriatingly handsome face far closer than you’d ever allow yourself to on a normal day when you life isn't at risk.

Faced with the option of entirely wrapping your legs around his waist or plopping your ass in his lap, this had initially seemed like the safest choice. But as Cassian groans quietly at the discomfort of the hard dirt beneath him and shifts his body slightly, you quickly realize that this was a losing battle from the start. 

Cassian may look like he’s of average build on the surface, but fuck if he’s not a wall of solid muscle underneath his clothes. In your attempts to avoid eye contact with him, you find yourself distracted by the tendons in his neck, so you’re already mentally scolding yourself when you feel it—the firm, unforgiving press of his thigh against your core. 

Fuck. 

Memories of the way you’d spent the night before leaving for this mission flow into your mind unbidden, despite your best attempts to clear your head. 

Your legs spread wide across your bed, slick arousal painting the inside of your thighs and soaking the sheets beneath you. The delicious stretch of the toy as you eased it into your dripping entrance. 

—how hard you came when you closed your eyes and imagined it was Cassian’s cock splitting you open, legs trembling and fingers shaking as you screamed his name into the pillow. 

Cassian grunts, moving again, and a small gasp escapes your lips at the pressure of the material tugging against your clit. 

“Can you sit still?” you snap, heart fit to burst out of your chest as it treads a frantic beat. 

He’s silent for a moment before moving again, ever so slightly, leaving you helpless but to exhale a sound caught somewhere between a moan and a growl. 

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” he asks quietly, his breath hot against your ear as you tuck your face into the space between his shoulder and neck. 

Later, you’ll blame it on the fucked up adrenaline rush from the danger surrounding you. How goddamn lonely you’ve been since you joined the Rebellion. The unfair way the rough caress of Cassian’s voice sets each and every nerve ending in your body alight. 

You can think about how much you’re going to regret this later, when you’re not trapped in a trench with a man who you’re convinced you can’t stand. A man that you spend a whole lot of time thinking about…considering how much you swear you hate him. 

Your response is a pointed cant of your hips, warmth curling in your abdomen at the feeling of your cunt freely dragging across Cassian’s thigh, your folds sliding through the slick arousal pooling in your underwear. 

“Good girl,” he murmurs, carefully bringing his hands up to grasp either of your hips. The calluses on his thumbs scrape against your skin at the waistband of your pants where your shirt’s ridden up. “You’re stunning, you know.”

“But,” he adds in a low tone as you let out a choked out whine when he tightens his grip and guides your next stroke, “you’re really gorgeous like this, when you loosen the slack on that silly leash you keep yourself on.”

“Cassian,” you gasp out when he presses his hot lips to the exposed skin on your neck, kissing and nipping his way down to your collarbone.

“I know,” he whispers, “Riding my thigh isn’t enough. You need me to fill that pretty cunt.”

You whimper, fisting a hand in his hair, and he chuckles, one hand slipping under your shirt to tease at your peaked nipples. 

“I’ll fill every tight little hole of yours with my cum for when we get back to the ship, if that’s what you want.”

“Please,” you nearly cry out, almost forgetting the Imperial troops stationed nearby. 

The hand currently squeezing and kneading your breasts slips away and clamps over your mouth as Cassian gives you a warning look, and you nod, continuing to chase the pleasure building between your legs. 

His pants are probably soaked with your arousal, too, at this point. And the thought makes your cunt throb. Another desperate sound crawls up your throat ahead of your impending orgasm, and Cassian slips two fingers into your mouth. He hums in satisfaction when the only muffled noise left is the wet slide of you eagerly sucking on his fingers, a sloppy trail of drool sliding down your cheek.

And then your climax hits you so hard your vision goes white, your entire body shaking with waves of pleasure that leave you boneless.

Cassian grasps your chin as you make no secret of the way you adjust yourself to sit fully in his lap now, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You reach between your bodies, surprised to find the hard outline of his cock slightly softened now. Amusement rumbles in his chest as your fingers glide over the sticky area where he came in his pants. 

“There’s plenty more where that came from,” he assures you, eyes sparkling with mischief before he leans in to kiss you once more.

—

Comments, reblogs, and/or asks are always appreciated!

» CASSIAN ANDOR MASTERLIST

#cassian andor #cassian andor x reader #cassian andor smut #diego luna fanfiction #star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars smut

[silver-pieces]

prisoners

Pairing: Cassian Andor x fem!reader

Word Count: Almost 8.7k

Synopsis: You never expected to find your soulmate here.

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, smut (unprotected p in v sex, slight breeding kink), physical pain & trauma, depression, nightmares, prison, prison labour, open sea & dark water

A/N: For the prompt ‘Nightmare/Soulmark’ in Andor Bingo, created by @sw-andor​ This fic features major spoilers for Andor S1. Keef = Cassian. Divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics​.

“What’s she doin’ ‘ere?”

“I think that’s obvious.”

“Yeah but, she’s a woman.”

“What do they care? Man, woman, we’re all just slaves - ”

“Oi! Table five.” Kino barks from behind you. He stalks over, meeting everyone’s eyes with a glare. “Is there a problem?”

“Yeh’ve given us a woman,” the redhead says. “No offence, love, but why are you here? Shouldn’t you be with the other birds?”

“Shut it,” Kino growls. “It doesn’t matter why she’s here. She is. Now stop wasting my time and get back to work. Unless you want to get fried.”

Your feet shift nervously at the memory. Hot, electric pain. Everyone else stiffens too, a shared sense of dread filling the sterile air.

He takes you by the shoulders and pushes you towards one of the men. “Keef.”

A man with dark hair and even darker eyes looks up at the sound of his name, his gaze falling on you as he pauses mid-crank.

Your lips part, and your gaze lingers on the sight of his sleeves rolled up, his arms tensing with each push so hard, that, in any other circumstance, you might find it appealing.

“Show her the ropes.” Kino lowers his voice to a menacing growl. “And make sure she understands what’s at stake.”

The man gives him a subtle nod.

“You’re down four now, boys,” Kino says, his gaze shifting to you, “... and girl. No more distractions. Let’s get this done!”

They get back to work - a synchronised effort that you struggle to follow, only adding to the chaos happening around you. There are lasers and cranks and drills and pieces of machinery that they have to manually fit together. And the sounds are overwhelming - hardened voices overlapping with the whirring and clanking of the machines.

“I’m Jemboc,” the older one next to Keef says. “This is Ham, Xaul, Melshi, and Taga.” He goes around the table, pointing at each one.

You say your name in return, but it comes out feeble, your throat still not working properly. Xaul, the redhead, pins you with a look. Melshi mutters something to himself, shaking his head.

“Here,” Keef grunts to get your attention, beckoning you to his side. There's a lilt to his voice that pleases your ears. “Watch what I do closely. You have to pull your weight around here, or we all get fried, you understand?”

You manage to nod.

He removes the crank from the machinery and sets it aside, his hands moving deftly from one task to the next. You’re drawn to his hands, the display of skill and strength sending heat down your spine. His brows are lowered, his gaze focused.

Each part requires something different - to pull, crank, lift, reach, press, load. It's heavy labour, but he proves himself more than capable.

"It's easy once you get into the swing of things," Jemboc's voice taking you out of your trance as he steps beside you.

"Right.” You’re not sure you want to get into the swing of things.

The older man frowns at you, but there's a kindness in his eyes.

"Are you getting it?" Keef growls to you as he lifts his hands and backs away from the table.

You nod.

He draws near and ducks his head down, a patient look in his eyes. "Any questions, you can just ask me."

Your heart flutters. Heat rises to your face, though you're not sure why. "Thanks."

With a nod, he turns back to the table and starts loading alongside the others, letting you stand by his side and watch.

No more words are exchanged apart from the occasional barked order from the others - push!, lift!, and hands away!

They get more frantic as time passes. Kino calls something out and your table groans in response.

You realise that they're falling behind.

Get back to work. Unless you want to get fried. Shit. There is no way you're taking that punishment again if you can help it.

Stomach in knots, you step up beside Keef. "I've seen enough, let me help."

He eyes you, a muscle feathering in his jaw, before handing you the crank. As your hand closes around it, he mutters, "Be careful."

A shiver runs down your spine. His voice is low and smooth and it does something to your body that momentarily distracts you from this hell.

Hesitantly, you take the crank from his grip and fasten it to the piece of machinery.

"Table five, your productivity levels are unacceptable. Proceed to the centre of the room and remain on program."

The soles of your feet tingle with each step on the floor. Your head is spinning, heart pounding, mouth drier than a desert.

The others at your table stand with you in the centre of the floor. For a second, you allow yourself a glance over at Keef.

He’s staring straight forward, a dead look in his eyes, but the tiniest shuddering expanse of his chest betrays his fear.

You close your eyes and wait.

No no no no no no no no no -

It slices through your body and your muscles seize with pain. A cry escapes your lips. Your knee hits the floor painfully hard as your legs give way, and the cries of the others violates your ears, inescapable.

It's over in seconds, but it feels like hours.

Your lungs draw ragged breaths. Tears leak from your eyes, and you wipe them away before anyone sees.

Stand. The others are already getting up - you need to follow, quickly, before they decide to punish you again. But your legs are too weak.

A familiar outstretched hand enters your vision.

Your gaze trails up the veins in his forearm, to the sleeves bunched up over his biceps. "Come on," Keef urges softly. "You have to get up."

With all your willpower, you reach up and grab him by the forearm, his hand closing around the inner side of your forearm, bracing you there to help you up.

"Ah!" you hiss, pulling away as a sudden burning sensation flares where his hand touches you.

“Shit!” He grits out, exchanging a confused look with you, and then looks down at his own arm, where you touched him.

Your breath halts as you see it - the symbol burned into your skin, on the inner side of your upper forearm. It’s a simple slashing of lines, but the meaning it carries is far more significant - a soulmark.

He’s staring at the same symbol on his own skin in stunned silence.

“Keef,” you breathe.

Then the deep warped voice of the prison interrupts.

“Prisoners on program. Proceed to your quarters.”

He takes one frantic look at you, and then turns his head forward, following the prison directive and raising his hands behind his head on program. The sleeve, you noticed, he pulls down to hide the mark.

You quickly do the same, assuming the position, even though every fibre of your being is flooded with shock.

As you file through the doors with the others, you can barely hear anything over the pounding of your own ears. Your mind struggles to make sense of what just happened, let alone process everything else that’s happened to you in the last twenty-four hours.

Keef falls in line behind you.

Instantly, you feel his eyes on you, the heat prickling at the back of your neck.

The line of prisoners shuffles along through a long corridor, passing the night shift, stopping and starting up again until you're at your quarters.

"Jemboc, give her the orientation," Kino directs the older man, before leaving you behind to deal with another group of men.

Jemboc turns to you. "Come on, I'll show you your cell."

As he takes you down through the hallway, you see Keef emerge out of the corner of your eye, and when he reaches his own cell, so do you. Directly opposite from each other.

Your eyes meet.

Stars. Finding a soulmate is rare, practically unheard of for most. But he’s here, and the mark is burned into your flesh, still throbbing with fresh pain as you run your fingers over it.

Jemboc starts explaining what the lights on the floor mean, but you can’t seem to take your eyes off of Keef, raking your gaze over his tense form, brown hair mussed and grown out, dark eyes you could lose yourself in, even as you listen to Jemboc listing all the various rules.

“You understand?” Jemboc asks you.

Not really. “Yes,” you reply with a nod, dragging your eyes away.

“What are you in for, anyway?”

“Loitering.” You’ve grown numb to the anger.

“I see.” Jemboc pats you on the shoulder. “You’ll be okay, sister. We all will be, soon.”

“Hey!” The bark of another prisoner cuts him off.

It’s Xaul, pushing past the others, stalking towards you with a deadly glare.

You take a step back on instinct, and Jemboc folds his arms defensively, but it’s Keef who gets in his way.

With a growl, he pushes off the wall, getting in Xaul’s face before he can reach you. “What’s your problem, huh?” he growls. “You’re scaring her.”

Xaul growls, jabs his finger in your direction, and shifts his glare to Jemboc. “Not her.”

They exchange unreadable glances.

Jemboc scowls and takes him by the shoulder, leading him out of earshot from you. The two of them begin talking in low, urgent tones, Xaul shooting you another glare.

Your hands curl into fists at your side.

Hesitantly, Keef turns to you, his head ducked low in sincerity. “Are you okay?” he asks, his voice coming out softer than you’ve heard before.

“No,” you say, even as warmth fills you at the concern in his devastatingly brown eyes. Stars, but the sight of him pleases you. “I think we need to talk.”

“Agreed,” he nods, holding his forearm with his other hand, his eyes briefly glancing down, “but we don’t have the time or the privacy in here.”

You draw nearer. “How long is left on your sentence?”

“No,” he shakes his head, “That doesn’t matter anymore.”

“I don’t understand.”

His eyes dart to Xaul and Jemboc. “I wish I could tell you. I - ” he cuts himself off as the floor lights start flashing.

In seconds, the hall clears as the rest of the inmates scramble to get into their cells. Keef pushes you towards yours. “Go.”

With his push, you step up into your cell before the lights can turn red. What was it Jemboc said? Seven seconds when the lights start flashing, then they turn red. And if you’re caught in the red light, you die.

On instinct, you turn back around to see Keef again.

Your soulmate.

He stands in his cell across from you, an unreadable expression on his face, his mouth in a grim line, as the lights begin to dim.

The floor lights turn red a second later.

There is no way to get to him now, and no way of talking across the hall without everyone in the surrounding cells hearing you. That’s not an option.

He lingers at the edge of his cell, and so do you, for a time, struggling with this new feeling inside you - this urge, compelling you towards him. Even if you don’t know him yet, you want to.

So you’re paralysed in silence; staring at each other across several feet of deadly flooring.

The murmurs of the other inmates eventually peter out, and as the snoring starts to rise, you feel your eyes growing heavy.

You curse beneath your breath.

Keef must hear it, because he raises his chin and nods in understanding, retreating from the edge of his cell and into darkness.

Grimly, you turn away from him, towards your bunk.

They're everywhere. They're watching you. They know what you've done. You're going to be punished -

You wake up in a cold sweat, gasping for air.

"Hey, hey, breathe." Keef's hushed voice carries across the cell.

Your eyes dart around until you see him, a broad mass in the shadows, sitting on the edge of his bunk across the way.

The soft sound of the other men snoring in their cells settles over the silence.

"It was just a nightmare," he whispers across the corridor. "I'm right here."

You blink back tears, and push yourself up by your elbows. “Did I wake you?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “I couldn’t sleep.”

You run your hand down over your face. There’s been a lot of that lately.

A few shifts in, you found yourself staring at the ceiling of your cell counting the seconds going by, running your fingers over the soulmark on your arm, unable to stop thinking about him.

You’ve memorised his form and features with almost no effort - the cut of his jawline, occasionally peppered with stubble if he hasn’t shaved, being your latest obsession.

And you can feel when he looks at you, too. Devouring glances out of the corner of your eye that set your cheeks aflame.

It’s like your body is on high alert at all times. Working alongside him throughout the day, barely able to exchange a few words without anyone overhearing, passing by each other, brushing past each other so close your skin hair raises, but not touching, never touching, just savouring the few small moments in his presence and then trying to go to sleep every night knowing he is a only few feet away from you.

But it’s worse, somehow, when you do manage to turn your brain off. That’s when the nightmares come.

It’s relentless and repetitive; nothing but the Empire and memories of pain, torturing you through your sleep.

Keef’s been developing shadows beneath his eyes as well. You wish you could talk to him about it, but he doesn’t seem to want anyone else to know about your soulmarks, and shit, neither do you. It's hard enough to even admit to yourself, let alone have the others staring at you, judging you more than they already do for being the only woman here.

And if the prison ever found out, they could take you away from each other. Your gut clenches at the thought.

Fuck. Trying to drag your emotions out of the gutter before you break is becoming harder everyday. The weight on your shoulders is crushing you, and you can’t see any light at the end of this tunnel.

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this,” you confess, wrapping your arms around yourself.

He stands, coming to the edge of his cell in the low, red lighting. “Don’t say that,” he whispers. “Don’t let them break you.”

You fiddle with your mattress. Don’t let them break you? They already are, and it isn’t your choice.

“Listen to me,” he says, raising his voice to a low growl.

You look up at him, drawing in a shaky breath.

“You had a nightmare, but you woke up from it.” The urgency in his baritone voice calls to you, and you stand, approaching the edge of your cell as he continues. “That’s all this place is. It’s a nightmare. You don’t realise it while you’re inside, but you’re in control. All you have to do is wake up.”

“What are you saying?”

He meets your gaze, an intense, unreadable look in his eyes. “I'm saying, hold on. Just a little while longer. Can you do that?”

“Yes,” you breathe, before you realise what you’re saying. You blink and look away from him, frowning. “I can.”

His words paint a picture in your mind, one of you, years from now, out of here. On some beach planet or forest town, enjoying the sun on your face. This place, a distant memory in the back of your mind.

Just a nightmare.

A slight smile finds its way onto your face at the thought. You meet Keef’s gaze again, the fierceness in his eyes amplified by the red of the floor, and nod in gratitude.

“I’ll try.”

His shoulders relax slightly, and he nods. “That’s all we can do.”

You sleep.

There’s a warmth in you when you wake, a buzz from the memory of last night. That was the longest conversation you’ve had yet, and even if you couldn’t talk openly, it still felt real.

When you first open your eyes, you’re drawn to his cell on instinct, drinking in the sight of him every chance you can get.

But it’s like he hasn’t moved all night. He’s leaning one shoulder against the wall at the edge of his cell, arms still folded, and he’s staring at you, his dark brows furrowed, the slight stubble peppering his clenched jaw telling you he hasn’t shaved since yesterday. Movement draws your gaze to his arm, where his knuckles shift back and forth, running over that small mark on his arm.

Heat slowly rises to your face.

The floor is still red. The others are awake too, the few you can see from your cell having breakfast or pacing around their small cell. The slight murmur of muted voices blending together.

“Did you sleep?” you ask him.

He gives the subtlest shake of his head.

Your heart sinks.

It’s not just being around him that you can’t bear, it’s also seeing him suffer and not being able to help. You have to keep holding back these strange, rising urges to comfort him. It doesn’t help that he has those big, soulful brown eyes that could melt you down into the cracks of the floor.

You’re not in love, but he matters to you more with each passing day, and that feeling is killing you.

Damn, you thought you’d grown numb to everything, but suddenly the despair is back with a vengeance, and you have to look away to blink back sudden tears.

“Hey,” he calls to you. “You okay?”

Shaking your head, you blow out a breath and chant in your head, don’t break, don’t let them get to you.

He curses, and then he’s pushing of the wall to pace his cell. His shoulders tense with each breath.

You draw near the edge of your cell, watching him try to walk out the tension in his body, your heart caught between desire and despair.

It’s a vicious cycle of suffering between the two of you.

Then the floor lights shift from red to white.

“On program!” Kino calls out.

Prisoners load out of their cells, slowly getting into their line with murmurs and sluggishness.

Keef is already on the floor when you tentatively step down, enduring that moment before your feet touch the metal with your heart in your throat every time. White lights means it’s safe, but -

He approaches you suddenly, closing his hand around the nape of your neck, tipping his forehead against yours. Warm electricity floods through your veins and over your skin at his touch.

“Keef,” you stutter out, shocked at his public display, even as you sink further into his touch. The sounds of shock and angry voices from the men around you start kicking off, but you ignore them.

“Please,” he breathes, his forehead pressed firmly against yours, his face inches away, “it’s killing me. I know you’re scared - I know. What can I do?”

You shake your head. “I - ”

“What the fuck are you two doing?”

Kino.

You pull him off you and step away.

He shudders at your touch, and you realise with a jolt that you took his arm right at the soulmark. For a brief moment, he cradles his arm, before Kino approaches and the two of you join the others in line.

“Hm?” The man raises his eyebrow at the both of you. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“It was nothing,” Keef responds. “Just making sure she’s okay.”

Kino glances at you, an unreadable look on his face. “Are you?”

“I’m fine,” you say, but even you can hear the shakiness in your own voice.

He blinks, searching your gaze. Then he grabs Keef by the arm and leans in to whisper something in his ear.

As Keef listens, he sets his eyes on you, before giving Kino a firm nod.

Apparently satisfied, the older man steps away and raises his voice to the rest of the men.

“Time to face another day. Everyone, move.”

As you begin walking forward, you turn your head to whisper back to him, “what was that?”

“Don’t worry,” Keef whispers. “He’s on our side.”

The tension is high at table five.

“I don’t think they should be next to each other today,” says Taga, eyes darting nervously between the two of you.

“Why?” Keef growls.

“Does he really have to say why?” Xaul interrupts. “You like her.”

“It could be a distraction,” Ham mutters.

“No.” Keef glares. “She stays by my side. Kino’s orders.”

“Oh, ‘Kino’s orders’? Fuck that. We don’t want to get fried 'cuz of you,” Xaul growls.

Keef turns his ire on Xaul. "And when was the last time that happened? If memory serves, not since she started here, under my guidance."

A mutter goes around the table.

"Table five, get moving," Kino warns as he passes by.

"Let's get this done," Keef growls, and that's the end of the discussion.

The next days feel different, and the same.

You try to hold on, like you promised him, but the nightmares and the sleepless nights are getting worse.

You touched each other for the second time ever, felt the warmth of his hands on you, breathed the same air, the memory of seeing the depths of darkness in his brown eyes up close is carved into your mind, and now the yearning inside of you has developed; a deep ache in your bones.

The others can sense something more is up between you. You feel their eyes follow you; but you can't bring yourself to care whether they notice the way he always rushes to your aid, or the soft exchanges of words, or the way the two of you never move too far apart. You can't fight this growing need to be around him. You're soulmates. Whatever that means.

"Doctor! We need the doctor!"

Your ears prick at the commotion at table two. Everyone keeps working, but out of the corner of your eye you watch as Kino goes over to investigate.

"Is it another panic attack?"

You push down on the drill.

"...he's not breathin'"

You lift it up and inspect the results.

"Shit. I’ll call the doctor."

Your table begins to lift the cog off the table to load it on the rack. You step away, watching them move. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the man keeled over on the floor.

A little bit of your soul cracks.

Keef returns to your side, and it’s brief, but his arm brushes against yours.

He doesn’t even need to say anything - you meet his brown-eyed gaze and all the hurt in your lungs evaporates.

“Unit Five-Two-D on program.”

He flicks his gaze up to the entrance, a gleam in his eyes.

You put your hands behind your head and turn to face them as the doctor is lowered onto the floor.

The man is dead.

There’s a strange anticipation in the air, like the way the air gets dry before a storm hits.

You watch them carry the man away in a bodybag. You catch Xaul and Jemboc exchanging a look. You catch the way Kino nods subtly to Keef as he walks past.

Everyone goes silently to their quarters - not even a whisper.

“Fall out!” Kino yells.

You turn to Keef. “What is going on?”

He pulls you aside, leaning in with his voice down low. “Do you trust me?”

“Why?”

“Tomorrow, whatever Kino says, I want you to follow immediately. No hesitation. You understand?”

“What - ”

“I can’t explain. I wish I could, but - ” His eyes catch on someone over your shoulder, and his mouth closes in a grim line.

You glance back and see Xaul, watching from a distance, arms folded, jaw tense. He’s never seemed to trust you, and you don’t blame him, but the way he watches you at all times is hard to get comfortable with.

“I don’t understand,” you turn back to your soulmate and search his eyes, “but... I trust you.”

An unreadable expression flashes in his eyes, and then everything is swept away as he takes you by the waist, cups your chin, and sweeps you into a gentle kiss.

For a nanosecond you freeze, before the rush of adrenaline fills your veins and you melt against his lips. The soulmark pulses on your arm, and the most amazing feeling overtakes you, of drifting high up in the clouds and watching the sun rise. You pull him closer, threading your fingers through his hair. The bristle of his five-o’clock shadow makes itself known with each movement, desire pooling in your core as you move your body against his. He feels so real, solid and alive, and it’s breathtaking.

The sounds of the world around you only vaguely registers in your head. Men, shouting at you.

Fuck them. Nothing else matters. You’re in the arms of your soulmate and you never want to leave again.

Then one voice, Kino’s, pierces through your haze. “Oi! The floor!”

Your eyes fly open as Keef breaks off the kiss and pushes you towards your cell with a growl.

You barely have time to react. Between the flashing lights, you lunge for the safe zone, leaping up into it seconds before the place is bathed in red.

“Fuck!”

You turn around.

He stands in his cell across from you, panting, his hair mussed from your attention. His eyes are wild, staring at you like he’s waiting for you to drop dead.

The instinct to reassure him overwhelms you. “I’m okay,” you say, stepping away from the edge. “I made it.”

He closes his eyes, running a palm over his mouth, and his shoulders rise and fall with a deep, shuddering breath.

You look down at your soulmark. That heightened feeling is fading, fast, each second you’re not back in his arms. A vision enters your head, of you, throwing yourself across the hall, even though you know that ends in death.

“You two lovebirds have a death wish?” Kino yells from his cell.

Shit.

“I told you they were distracting each other.”

“Gonna get us killed.”

Murmurs ripple down the hall. Heads, poking out of their cells.

Keef shakes his head, eyes swimming with anger. His voice is low, but you still hear it above the din. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken that risk.”

His words should fill you with regret, but a part of you, a small, stubborn part, thinks that maybe it was worth it anyway, just to touch him again, to feel his arms around you, the dominance of his kiss.

You close your eyes, a hand going to your mouth on instinct, fingertips trailing where he had his mouth on yours.

“Enough!”

Kino’s bark gets everyone’s attention instantly. The chatter dies down.

You open your eyes, and Keef is staring at you, a hungry look in his eyes. Heat rises to your face.

“Everyone knows what the plan is. Yes?”

Mumbles of men in agreement echo through the hall. You tilt your head, trying to discern any information you can, but pick up nothing. Nothing except that Keef looking towards Kino’s cell with fire in his eyes - tense, almost like hope, but darker.

Anger.

“Good. Now’s the time to rest. Tomorrow, we fight.”

A chill runs down your spine.

He’s shirtless in the morning.

Instantly pushing yourself up, your gaze locked on his chest, his stomach v, his arms, you catch his attention with the sudden movement.

He snaps his gaze to yours, pausing mid-stretch. His arm pulled across his chest, braced against his other arm to stretch his shoulder, the ropes of his biceps on full display for you.

“Hi,” you say.

Your swear his mouth curves just slightly, a twitch in his face, and he nods at you.

“Hi.”

All the blood in your body has left your brain. You continue to stare at him like an idiot while he does some basic stretches, before the lights flick to white, and Kino yells his daily on program! while Keef slides his shirt back on.

You fall in line in front of him.

He stands closer to you than normal, pressing his up front against you, his breath fanning against the back of your head as he leans in. His lilting voice sounds lowly in your ear, a lilting, baritone sound. “Remember what I said?”

Your eyes flutter shut at the sensation. “F-Follow Kino,” you manage to stutter out.

He hums in approval. “Good girl.”

Your thighs clench together.

He’s getting more bold in front of the others, more playful, and you can’t help but feel excited and nervous by the shift. Why has he stopped hiding?

The line starts moving forward, and you follow the person in front of you to the showers as normal, trying to focus on anything but what he just said.

He thinks there’s a chance you could both escape, you think, and then immediately regret that line of thinking. But it’s too late. That future you imagined - the one that he planted in your mind with his words, shifts, and suddenly he’s there beside you in each vision, relaxing, laughing, grinning like an idiot.

Fuck.

The shift begins, the men exchanging knowing glances that have anticipation and dread growing in your belly. You know what this is by now, you’ve put the pieces together despite their weird reluctance in telling you.

This escape plan is really happening.

The new prisoner arrives shortly after your shift begins, and when Keef returns from the bathroom soaking wet, you barely have time to react before shit hits the fan.

Obeying Kino’s orders, you watch as together the other prisoners hijack the lift and short out the entire system - no more hot floor.

As he reaches the top, Keef turns back to pin you with a wild, furious look in his eyes that fills you with fire. He jerks his head for you to follow him.

So you do.

You climb. You run. You follow.

A guard catches you and tries to pull you away, but Keef is there in a flash of red and the smell of burning flesh, grabbing you by the hand and telling you to run as the man slumps to the ground.

The loading platform ends in a sheer drop to the sea. Your stomach drops as you pull back, glancing around as others begin to jump.

This is insane.

“I can’t swim!”

You barely hear Kino say it over the sound of the wind and the other prisoners, but then he says it again, and there is no doubt.

You step up beside him. “Me neither.”

Keef stares at you in shock.

And then he’s gone.

One of the men drags him off the edge by accident, and a shriek escapes you. “No!” but you can only watch as he disappears from sight.

A second goes by, then two. More men rush past.

There's nothing but the sound of blood pumping in your ears. No matter which way you think about it, if you follow, you're dead. There's no way you can swim that far, and if Keef tries to help you, he'll probably just die with you.

You fall to your knees.

Others race past you still, flinging themselves off the edge one by one. Kino stands by your side, watching them with an empty gaze.

“What do we do now?” you ask, and find yourself subconsciously cradling your arm, the soulmark on it beginning to throb painfully. Follow Kino, he said, but you’re not sure Kino has any moves left. There’s none you can see; no way to survive.

Maybe you should just jump anyway and let fate decide.

“Nothing.” Kino looks down at the gun in his hand. “We’re going out, one way or another.”

You nod and take in a deep breath of salty ocean air. “Agreed.”

He says nothing.

“Ah!” Your soulmark throbs again, and you grip your arm, hissing through your teeth. “Fuck off!”

“Sorry?” Kino growls.

"It’s uh,” you pull back your sleeve to him, “my soulmark.”

He blinks. “Damn. Keef?”

“Yeah.”

“That explains you two then.” He nods, casting his gaze out to sea. “I... I have a family.”

You peer up at him.

“I just wanted to see them again.” He looks down at the gun in his hands again.

“At least you know you tried,” you offer. “Sometimes...” Keef’s words ring true, pouring from your lips even as you hear the memory of his words spoken in your mind. “...that’s all we can do.”

The two of you linger in silence. Below you, the forms of men swimming away from the prison spread out, reaching towards the horizon. The soulmark on your arm is aching something fierce now, calling you to the edge. But it’s the realisation that Keef must be feeling this pain too, that hurts even more.

You hope he is trying anyway, down there, despite the pain.

He’s probably thinking the same thing about you.

Damn.

You stand. “Give me the gun.”

Kino hands it to you without even looking, his eyes remaining fixed on the horizon.

You turn around, facing the inside of the prison, and point the gun at one of the panels of the wall. The sound of the blast almost deafens you.

The panels sizzle where the blast hit, but as you approach, you can see them peeling away from each other at the seam. Without hesitation, you wedge the barrel of the gun in the hole, and with all your strength, try to peel the panel off the wall.

“What are you doing?” Kino growls.

You glance back at him with a half-cocked shrug.

“Finding something that floats.”

Wet.

Cassian’s fingers close around sand. His lungs are on fire, exacerbated by the stinging salt he inhales with each breath. Everything hurts.

A shadow relieves him from the sun. He looks up and for a moment, it’s you, the beautiful image of you reaching down for him tilting this world on its axis. Then he blinks, and Melshi comes into focus.

“We need to disappear,” he’s saying, scanning their surroundings.

Cassian tries to push himself up, but there’s a terrible ache emanating from his soulmark. It was easy to ignore in the sea - everything hurt. But now it spreads through his body, an urging like no other to wade back out into the dark waves - to go back for you.

He wants to punch the man who tackled him off the edge. Whoever it was. But as soon as he hit the water, swimming was the only way to survive.

“Did ya hear me? Keef?”

With a grunt, Cassian sits up and brushes off his hands, wincing when his arm throbs with the movement. “Did anyone else make it?”

Melshi squints. “If they did, they didn’t follow us.”

Yeah, that’s what he thought. Even if, by some miracle, you did make it, you could be miles apart, with no way of finding each other.

It would be enough to know that you survived, but he’s never been that lucky. No. He thinks of you, of your tentatively hopeful expressions that get him through the day, that beautifully trusting look in your eyes right before he kissed you, and has to tilt his head back to prevent his eyes from watering.

His soulmate. Dead.

He thought that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance he could save you.

“Keef.” Melshi stoops down beside him. “We have to move.”

“What do you know about soulmarks?” he murmurs.

Melshi sighs. “You’re dehydrated, mate. C’mon.” He goes to lift him up.

“No - no!” Cassian resists, pushing Melshi away and scrambling to his feet. He shoves back his sleeve and bares his soulmark. “I need to know! I need to...” He cuts himself off with a grimace as pain pulses through the mark.

Melshi stares at the mark, wide-eyed. “No shit. The girl?”

Cassian can only nod. “She doesn’t even know - my real name.” He chokes the words out past tears. “I thought I could save her. But she’s... she’s probably dead by now.” It feels like he’s separated from his body, like someone else is saying these things.

“Wouldn’t you know?”

Cassian stills. “What do you mean?”

Melshi hesitates.

“What do you mean?!” He grips at his hair, heart thudding in his chest so hard it might burst. “How would I know?!”

“I don’t know! It was just a story, back home - people said the marks are like homing beacons. So if she’s dead, your mark would... stop working.” He cringes, muttering, “it sounds stupid when I say it like that.”

Cassian looks down at it the throbbing, aching mark. He focuses on it, and - there - the throbbing pulls towards the sea.

He looks out at the waves. “She’s alive.”

His legs carry him forward, back into the sea. The sound of Melshi yelling behind him is a distant worry over the beating of his own heart, the very blood in his veins burning to get to you.

Then arms close around him, pulling him back. “You’re insane!”

He snarls and shoves Melshi back. “Get off me!”

“You’ll die!”

“I have to go back!”

Melshi lets him go. “Okay okay, just - just think about this! You’re no use to her dead.”

“You don’t get it. You don’t understand. If she’s alive - ”

“If she’s still alive, she’ll need more than just one man swimming out to rescue her!” His gaze darts down. “Is it getting better or worse?”

“What?”

He points to Cassian’s soulmark. “It’s painful, right? Is it getting worse?”

Cassian looks down at it. “It’s been about the same for a while now.” Fucking painful, but, “...maybe a little less than before. I don’t know!”

Melshi nods. “So she could be getting closer.”

“If that is how it works.” Instinct - the mark - tells him it does, but the panic in his chest won’t go away. He needs to see you. “So what do I do then? Wait around for her to find me? She can’t swim, so how - ”

“I don’t care!” Melshi interrupts. "But if you don’t return to shore with me, I will knock you unconscious and drag you back.” There’s a deadly serious look in the man’s eyes.

The ache within him isn’t going away. He’s not sure how much more he can take. But Melshi is right - it would be a death wish to swim back.

The prison is a blip on the horizon. Could you have really made it, somehow?

Melshi eyes him aggressively, waiting for him to make a move.

Cassian raises an eyebrow. “You really care about me that much?”

“You’ve been a bloody pain in my arse, but you were instrumental in our escape, so I figure I owe ya.”

With a nod, he looks back towards land, skimming his fingers over the waist-high water. “We wait here then.”

“They’ll be sending ships looking for us.”

“I won’t go any farther inland.”

Melshi shakes his head. “Fine.” With a splash, he begins wading toward the shore. “Then we’d better find some shelter for the night.”

It’s midnight. Probably, anyway. Cassian has no sense of time here, except that it's been dark for a while.

He sits with his face tilted up to the stars. The sea breeze is a cool rush of air, swaying the tree above and rustling his hair across his face.

He needs a haircut again.

The mark on his arm has steadied to a slow, aching pulse every few seconds, nothing more than the sensation of a mending bruise.

Melshi is right - he can feel it in his veins that you're getting close.

So he's waiting.

Sleep will not come to him tonight. Like you, it eludes him, and in its place, the unnatural sense that something is missing.

It's subtle, at first. A crashing of waves that don't fit the slow, steady beat he's been listening to all night.

Then, the sound of voices out there. A man's, deep and grating, and yours.

He'd recognise it anywhere.

He peers around the tree, out towards the sea, and sees a shape floating on the water.

“Melshi.” He hisses his companion’s name, getting up. “Melshi! It's them.”

“Huh,” Melshi starts, half awake.

“It’s them. I’m going to get her.”

He groans, shifting his arms up to cover his face. “They’re actually here? Wha’ are the chances? How?”

“I don’t know.” Breathless, Cassian turns toward the sea, towards the place his soulmark has been calling him towards all night. “But I’m going to find out. Come on.”

He runs to the water.

Sand sprays beneath his feet, then water splashes, and then he’s wading, then swimming, towards it. The shape blotting out the stars on the horizon morphs into two silhouettes sitting on some kind of raft. They’re slowly paddling their way towards the shore.

Cassian wants to weep with joy when he hears their voices - first Kino, then you.

“Is that - ”

“Keef? Keef!” you cry out, your voice hoarse.

His palm collides with the raft - a smooth white panel, and there you are, sitting on one side with a salt-streaked, wind-struck, beautiful face, staring down at him in wonder.

“Well shit,” Kino croaks, glancing at you. “You were right.”

Your hand rests over your soulmark as you stare down at Cassian.

Stars. There is so much he wants to say, but none of it seems like enough for this moment. He doesn’t want to take his eyes off you - he can’t.

But as the waves gently rise and fall, Kino clears his throat pointedly. “Much as I love being surrounded by water...”

“Right, right.” Cassian grabs hold of the panel. “I’ll take you to shore.”

The soft strokes of the sea abuts his efforts as he pulls the raft behind him, until the sea floor shallows out and he can put his feet beneath him.

“You should be good now. You can stand,” he says, instantly returning to your side of the raft. “Melshi’s with me, on the shore.”

Kino nods, sliding off the edge. “We should bury the panel.”

“Agreed.”

You hesitantly dip your legs in the water, and Cassian places his hands on your waist ready to help you down. “I’ve got you.”

In the darkness he can barely see your face, but he could swear there’s a heat reflected in your eyes.

It feels good, coming to you aid on instinct. Putting his hands on you.

As he holds you steady, you gently slip off the edge of the raft and collide against him with an oof as you land.

Despite his exhaustion, his shaft hardens. To go from be denied his soulmate for so long, to this...

“Here,” he says, roughly pushing the panel towards Kino, his eyes never leaving your face. “Go see Melshi. We’ll catch up.”

The man grunts something, and begins to wade to shore with the panel, and then he’s forgotten as Cassian is drawn back to you on instinct.

His arms tighten around your waist, and he opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. He’s struck.

You cup his face, gaze flitting between his eyes and his mouth, your breaths mingling, and then suddenly he’s pressing his mouth against yours.

You let out a cute little gasp against him, and his chest flutters, as you yield to him.

Yes. He burns with the rightness of this moment, and yet braces you against him as he deepens the kiss, like he’s afraid you’re going to slip away. He doesn’t quite believe you’re real yet.

Your fingers dig into his hair, and he likes it, the way you pull him into you with the same hunger and desperation he’s feeling.

“Cassian,” he breathes suddenly, pulling back for a moment, his forehead pressed against yours. “My real name is Cassian.”

“Cassian,” you repeat, and then your mouth curves into a smile - a fucking smile.

He almost groans. His soulmark pulses warmly against you. “You’re alive.”

“Yes,” you breathe, nodding against him.

“You’re my soulmate.”

You nod again, clinging tight to him. “Yes.”

A low, reverent chuckle escapes him, and you let out a light giggle in response; together relishing in the intimacy of this moment.

And then you cant your hips, and his laugh turns into a groan, a new kind of bliss making itself known in the hardening of his length beneath his pants. He thinks he’s never seen anything as beautiful as the look in your eyes. Full of passion - a beautiful, twisting flame, but also, understanding. You barely know each other, and yet it’s like your souls know each other intimately; bound together by something greater than either of you can fathom.

With a swift motion, he sweeps your legs out from underneath you and hitches your thighs around his waist so you're floating in the water, anchored in place by him alone.

You press yourself into him, arching your back and leaning forward to brush your lips against his.

He kisses you with all the fervour and unfulfilled need building inside him. His hands come around your ass and dig in, tugging your crotch against him so you can feel his hardness.

Another heady, submissive gasp escapes you against his mouth, and when your legs open further to let him settle against you, he's done for.

“I know you’re probably tired,” he murmurs, “and we should probably get to shore, but I...”

You're nodding before he even finishes the sentence, making his heart soar with the needy look in your eyes. “Yes,” you breathe. “Yes, yes, please, Cassian, please.”

With a breathless laugh, he drops your thighs and takes you by the waistband of your pants instead.

Together, you work to pull it off of you. It’s awkward, messy, not how he imagined this going, but it doesn’t matter. The mood is playful as you struggle to pull your pants off beneath the water - you, bracing yourself on his shoulders, and him, trying to pull it off your legs and getting splashed in the process.

But then suddenly you’re fully naked from the waist down, and your laughter quietens as you draw close to each other again.

He can’t see your naked lower half beneath the dark water, but he can feel when you wrap your legs around him again.

Slowly, he places his hand on your bare thigh, treating the moment with all the reverence of a ritual, his soulmark tingling in anticipation and sending a shudder through his body.

With his other hand, he cups your face, searching your gaze.

“I’m clean.”

“Same.”

“Birth control?”

Something like pain flickers in your eyes, and you shake your head. “Not since... before.”

“Right. Of course.”

He hesitates.

The two of you just escaped prison, and if he’s learnt anything, this is not the kind of galaxy he wants to risk bringing a child into. He’s not even sure if he’ll survive tomorrow.

“What do you want to do then?”

“We could die tomorrow.” You shift in his arms, pulling yourself flush against him until his hardness presses firmly between you. “Fuck it.”

He tilts his head, a slight grin curling on his face. Stars, when you say it like that... With a clench of his jaw, he pulls you down slowly and impales you on his hardness.

His head falls back. You’re fucking tight. A raw, incredulous groan rises from his throat.

Your reaction has his head spinning - fingers winding through his grown-out hair and pulling desperately against him. He loves little hiss you make.

“Look at me.”

Your eyes flutter open to meet his gaze and his seed almost spills, only holding himself back with the barest restraint. Must savour this moment. Finally being inside you - his soulmate.

He pulls you in for a hungry kiss. Heat rises between your bodies as you give yourself over to his touch, opening your mouth into his kiss and arching your back for him.

It’s too much. Unable to stop himself, his hands grip you by your thighs and he fully impales you, forcing your tight, inner channel muscles to give way and let his shaft thrust full inside you.

You brace his shoulders and writhe in pleasure. “Oh, Cassian, please, m-move - ”

That’s all he hears before his instincts take over, and he uses all his strength to thrust, desperate to wedge himself so far inside you he’ll never leave.

He plants his feet on the sea floor and braces you against him as you cant your hips for him. Your bodies are working overtime to create that toe-curling friction, thrusting into each other with bruising force, the waves splashing and breaking over your entwined forms.

Your mouths clash in a tangle of heated, desperate kisses that burn him from within. The tension is pulled taut between you, soulmarks thrumming in time with each other as you desperately unite your bodies as one.

He rocks his hips up between your open legs and hits home harder and harder with each slosh of the water. His hands grip you by the back of your shirt, fingers scrambling against the fabric to pull your body down as hard as he can.

Your head lols back in the water, a gasp escaping your throat. “Cassian! Don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop - oh!”

He grunts in approval. His hunger for you grows, seeing you so vulnerable like this for him, desperate to hold out as long as he can to pleasure you. His thrusts grow even more frantic and sloppy - a fast, brutal jerking rhythm of pounding up into your cunt.

“My hope,” he murmurs in Kenari, barely hanging on to his sanity. “Better than anything I’d ever dreamt of.” He drinks in the sight of you, wet and vulnerable and all his, and his hardness gives a heady warning pulse of heat. He groans. “You’re everything. You’re mine.”

You let out a whimper in his arms, and then you’re tensing, your thighs, clenching around him with newfound strength.

“Cassian,” you moan through gritted teeth, “Cassian!”

The first jolt of pleasure wracks through his body without warning. At the realisation that you’re climaxing, he’s had it - he can’t hold back anymore.

He groans in disbelief. His brows draw together, the deep, intense, deliberate jerking of his body against yours faltering as pleasure takes over. A sound comes out of him, a mix between a desperate plea and praise, and then he’s coming inside you.

Fierce, intense waves of heat pulse into your raw, messy, clenching cunt.

His pleasure deepens as you open your legs even farther to receive his spend inside you. With a growl, he pulls you against him and jerks his hips against you once more, finishing himself off.

“Yes,” you moan, leaning forward and pressing your forehead against his. The change in angle shields your face from the starlight, but the sound of your shuddering, desperate pants of breath are clear as day. You’re high on this shared bliss together.

“Don’t want to wake up,” he murmurs against your lips.

“You think I’m a dream?”

He traces up your arm and wraps his hand around the back of your neck. “You’re too good to be real. I’m not that lucky.”

You chuckle. “You are now.”

“We’ll see.”

It isn’t until the next morning, when he opens his eyes to the first rays of sun and you’re still there, asleep in his arms, that he finally allows himself to believe.

#andor bingo #andor #andor smut #andor fanfiction #star wars #star wars smut #star wars fanfiction #cassian andor #cassian andor smut #cassian andor fanfiction #cassian andor x reader #cassian andor x you #cassian andor x y/n #soulmates #soulmate trope #soulmate fanfiction #soulmark #soulmarks #soulmark trope #soulmark fanfiction #sil's writing

[beskarandblasters]

Is That a Blaster in Your Pocket or Are You Just Happy to See Me?

Din Djarin x Cassian Andor x Poe Dameron x F!Reader

Part two of What Happens on Coruscant, Stays on Coruscant

Main Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist | Cassian Andor Masterlist

Author’s note: A little celebration piece for 1k followers! I hope you all enjoy! This can be read without reading part one but you might enjoy their dynamic more if you have 🖤

Summary: Mando, Cassian and Poe come back to The Big Bang on Coruscant for another good time with their favorite girl.

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: reader is able-bodied, canon divergent, no one knows Din's name, foursome/group sex, sex work, reader has an alias she uses at the brothel (Nova), voyeurism, oral sex (male and female receiving), vaginal sex, double vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, nipple play, cum eating, two positions, dirty talk, slight degradation, pet names (angel, sweetheart) Din being shy but also rough, Cassian being a simp and Poe being a slut, no use of y/n

“I can’t believe you talked me into doing this again,” Mando sighs, walking down a familiar street in the lower levels of Coruscant. 

“I didn’t have to talk you into it. You saw how into you she was last time so don’t act like you don’t want this,” Poe shrugs. 

“I didn’t need any convincing,” Cassian chimes in. 

“We know, Cass. You practically fell in love,” Poe teases. 

They continue their walk to The Big Bang, the street just as desolate as the last time they were here. They stop at the front of the brothel which looks freshly redone and Mando says, “At least they fixed up the place a little bit… Has it really been that long since last time?”

“Way too long,” Cassian says. 

“You two are killing me. Mando’s acting like he doesn’t wanna be here and Cassian’s falling in love with a prostitute,” Poe mutters, rolling his eyes and walking past both of them and entering through the door.

Cassian and Mando follow him inside to the lobby, walking to the counter at the back of the room where Salva’s standing yet again. 

“Welcome back Mr. Damon! And I see you brought Mr. Andor and Mando with you again.”

Poe hears a deep sigh slip out from underneath Mando’s helmet but chooses to ignore it. 

“Nice to see you. We’re here to see our favorite girl, Nova, again,” Poe says, finishing with a wink. 

“Well let me see if she’s ready, boys,” she says, slipping out from behind the counter and going down the hallway. 

She reaches your room and knocks. It’s been a slow night for you so you answer the door rather quickly, leaning in the door frame and smiling at her.

“Got someone for me?”

“A real treat. I have Mr. Dameron, Mr. Andor and Mando for you in the lobby,” she says, her face breaking into a big grin.

“You already know my answer,” you say coyly.

“Girl, I got you. I’ll go get them,” she says, leaving to retrieve them from the hallway.

Salva holds the curtain aside and says, “She’s all yours, boys! You can pay at the end this time. Same room as last time.”

They slide past her and walk down the hallway while you take the opportunity to look yourself over in the mirror before they reach you. It’s been a few months since you’ve seen them last. Normally, you’re not self conscious with a client but for these three you want to look and feel your best. Tonight you’re adorned in a red matching bra and underwear set. You hear a knock on your door so you get to the bed in the middle of the room as fast as you can, crossing your legs and calling, “Come in!”

The door opens and you’re greeted with Poe and Cassian’s grinning faces and Mando’s stoic helmet. 

“Poe, Cassian, Mando,” you say, nodding at each of them and adding an extra emphasis on Mando. 

They step in and the door closes behind them, Cassian and Mando standing awkwardly tensed up. But Poe saunters over to you confidently, sitting beside you on the bed. One hand palms your thigh and the other lightly grasps your chin, turning your face towards him.

“Miss us, sweetheart?” he asks.

“You bet I did,” you reply, “How did you want me tonight?”

“Well let’s see… Mando got your pussy last time so now I think it’s my turn. You want her mouth?” he asks, turning his gaze towards Mando. 

“What- uhh…”

“It’s all yours if you want it, Mando,” you tease.

“S-sure,” he says, the modulator amplifying his stuttering. 

You lay down and he moves to the side of the bed, standing by your head.

Poe stands up, places his hands on his hips and says, “Well what do you think, Cass? Wanna take her pussy at the same time?”

“Mhm. But she needs some extra attention first,” Cassian responds, falling to his knees by your legs and spreading your thighs apart. He slips off your underwear and brings his tongue to your clit, swirling around it in small circles. A moan slips out as you turn your head to face Mando, whose cock is pitching a tent in his flight suit. 

“Aw Mando… Is that a blaster in your pocket or are you happy to see me?” you tease, batting your eyelashes at him. You can’t skip out on an opportunity to tease the quiet bucket-head.

He pulls his cock out and now that it’s up close and personal with your face this time you can see how large it is, making you a little intimidated to take him in your mouth. He gives you no time to think, though, bringing the tip of his cock to your lips. You open your mouth and let him thrust in and out you, tears springing in the corners of your eyes. 

Poe sits beside you on the bed and slides a hand underneath your bra, playing with your nipple as you suck Mando’s cock and have your cunt licked by Cassian. Cassian’s tongue moves to your cunt, leaving his nose by your clit. You arch your back and grind your hips against his face, making his nose stimulate your clit perfectly as his tongue laps at your cunt. 

The tip of Mando’s cock grazes the back of your throat repeatedly as he fucks your face. Your jaw starts to hurt from opening wide enough to accommodate his girth but you ignore it, marveling at how fast he can go from shy to dominant, taking over without so much as a complete sentence from him. 

Eventually the muscles in your core tighten up in anticipation of a large release. Your back arches even more as your orgasm washes over you, your hips grinding erratically against Cassian’s face. Your cunt completely soaks the lower half of his face as you come down from your high. 

Just as you finish Mando's coming in your mouth, must’ve been triggered by watching you cum. His warm release drips down the back of your mouth and you swallow as much as you can before he pulls out. You look at his cock now that’s not in your mouth and it’s still rock hard, the remnants of his orgasm leaking from the tip. 

Cassian finishes lapping up your wetness before pulling away and sitting beside you on the bed. You catch your breath and ask, “Okay… what’s next?” feeling a little winded from the intense orgasm from Cassian and Din’s cock down your throat.

“You said you wanted both of us in her pussy, Poe?”

“Yeah, why not?” Poe responds, a smirk growing on his face.

“Okay, so how do we-” Cassian starts but you cut him off.

“Cassi baby, you want me on top of you?” you ask sweetly.

He couldn’t say yes fast enough, standing up to take off his clothes before laying on the bed next to you. He gives his cock a few strokes as you move to straddle him. You sink down onto his cock, letting it hit the deepest angles inside you. Poe stands at the opposite end of the bed, removing his own clothes as he says, “Think you’re gonna need some lube, sweetheart.”

“In the top shelf by the mirror over there,” you respond, not breaking eye contact with Cassian as you sit with his cock buried inside you. His hands move behind your back to unclasp your bra, tossing it beside the bed and rubbing small circles around your nipples with his thumbs. 

Poe grabs the bottle of lube and spreads it on his cock before kneeling behind you on the bed. You lean forward so that you’re face to face with Cassian, kissing him as Poe slowly enters you. It hurts just a little bit at first but as Poe thrusts in and out gently you feel your walls stretch to accommodate both of them. You continue making out with Cassian, small moans and gasps slipping from your lips with each movement from Poe. His hands grip each of your asscheeks as he curses underneath his breath. 

But your face is pulled from Cassian’s much to his chagrin as Din pulls you into his cock, rock hard and already ready for round two. Cassian’s mouth moves to the spot where your jaw meets your neck, licking and nipping at the soft skin lightly. 

Poe slaps your ass and says, “Look at you. Filthy girl taking all three of us at the same time like an angel,” finishing his sentence with a sudden snap of his hips. You moan at the praise as best as you can with Din’s cock in your mouth. His gloved hands grip each side of your face as he fucks your mouth for the second time tonight. Your eyes gravitate to the stone cold stare of the visor as he pushes his length into you unforgivingly. You can only imagine the smug look he has on his face underneath the helmet as he makes a mess of you, tears rolling down your cheeks. 

The new sensation of two cocks inside your wet cunt brings you to the brink of orgasm. Your walls clench each man’s cock as much as it can before fluttering rhythmically around them. You cry out at the intense orgasm, one you had never thought possible. But your cries are cut off by Mando’s cock spilling cum down your throat. He keeps your face flush against his groin and the tip of his cock nestled in the back of your mouth. It’s too much and you go to pull away but he keeps his grip on your head tight, looking down at you and commanding, “Take. It.” most likely through gritted teeth. 

He finishes coming and finally relieves you, backing away from the bed and putting his cock away. You bury your head in the crook of Cassian’s neck as you continue to be railed by both of them. 

“You’re doing so well, baby,” Cassian praises. 

With one final thrust Poe arrives at the edge of release himself, pulling himself from you swiftly and painting your backside in his cum. He pumps every last drop from himself and gets off the bed, leaving Cassian left to finish with you. He moves and pins you underneath him, driving his cock into your mess of a cunt. He manages to pull one final orgasm from you, your cunt fluttering around him and left completely exhausted at this point. He pulls out at the last second he could before spilling his load into you, opting to instead coat your stomach in ropes of cum. 

He collapses on the bed next to you and catches his breath. Poe moves to get dressed and says, “Well you outdid yourself this time, Nova,” pulling on his pants.

“Th-thanks,” you say, sitting up and still sort of out of breath. 

Cassian and Poe finish getting dressed as Mando stands awkwardly by the door, hands crossed in front of him. 

“Well thanks for a good time, Poe, Cassian and Mando,” you say, looking at the three of them. 

“We’ll be back, sweetheart!” Poe says, shooting you a quick wave and disappearing through the door. 

Mando hits you with a quick “bye” and nod of his helmet before following Poe, back to his awkward and shy self after destroying your throat. 

As for Cassian he gives you his signature kiss on the hand and says, “Until next time, gorgeous.” 

And with that you’re alone. You collapse on the bed and remind yourself to tell Salva you’re done for the night. 

The three men return to the lobby and stop at the desk to pay.

“Have a good time, boys?” she asks slyly.

“Oh you bet,” Poe answers for all of them.

“Well that’ll be four hundred credits each!”

They pull the credits out of their pockets and place them on the counter for her. She slides them into her hand and asks, “And anything for a tip?”

They sigh and pull out more prompting Salva to say, “Very generous tips… She must’ve really taken care of you all.”

Poe lets out a chuckle and says, “Mhm. See ya next time, Salva!” before leaving with Cassian and Mando. 

As soon as they step out onto the street Cassian says, “That was-”

“Amazing,” Mando finishes.

“Aw you’re coming around, Mando,” Poe teases.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Mando grumbles, leading them back to the docking yard, each of them thinking about when they’ll be back… and maybe even separately next time. 

Part three: One Man Wolfpack

End note: Thank you all for supporting my silly little stories 🥹🖤

Follow @beskarandblastersfics fics and turn on post notifications to be notified when I post a new fic!

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#din djarin smut #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x f!reader #cassian andor smut #cassian andor fanfiction #cassian andor x you #cassian andor x reader #cassian andor x f!reader #poe dameron smut #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron x f!reader #star wars fanfiction #cassian andor #din djarin #poe dameron #andor fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfiction

[moonlight-prose]

♱ ALL THE KING'S HORSES ♱

a/n: it's october 13th right? totally the day i was supposed to post this? so i am deep in my cassian feels and have been re-watching andor as well as rogue one yesterday. which is why i finally got inspo for this prompt. it's more angsty than i intended, but that always seems to happen. expect me to randomly drop kinktober prompts here and there throughout january, because my brain is slowly waking up.

day thirteen - against a wall + rough sex | kinktober 2022

summary: a near death experience makes both of you realize your feelings for one another.

word count:

pairing: cassian andor x f!reader

warnings: MINORS DNI, cussing, fighting, angst, talk of death, rough sex, emotions.

Traveling in a small ship where tight quarters meant you curling up in a small cot and him taking the uncomfortable cold floor of the ship, made everything harder. You weren’t friends with Cassian Andor. Shit, you were barely even allies. Which is why when he came looking for you by order of the Rebellion, you laughed in his face. Told him to go find someone else to do the Rebellion’s bidding and tried to leave.

The only problem is…Cassian Andor is a stubborn fucker when he wants to be.

Which is how you ended up here. Cleaning blood off your split lip and glaring at him in the hopes of burning an actual hole in his head.

“You were supposed to wait,” he grunted, tossing his bag onto the small but extremely uncomfortable bench that was attached to the wall of his ship. You suddenly understood why he chose to sleep on the floor rather than on this.

“I didn’t have time to wait.”

“That wasn’t your call to make.” You scoffed, turning to stare at the wall. “You could have been killed,” he spit, taking a step forward.

“But the job would have been done.”

There was no hiding how little your life mattered in the span of things. You knew if you died, you wouldn't be honored, wouldn’t be remembered, or even given a funeral. Your death would be a blip on the Rebellion’s radar and an accomplishment on the Empire’s. Going in you knew that there would be a possibility of no one mourning you after you were gone, but you refused to even accept the fact that Cassian would be that person.

He couldn’t be.

“Is that what you think? That your death wouldn’t mean something?”

Standing abruptly, you turned, your face inches away from his. “My death would mean we were one step closer to stopping the Empire.”

His lips quirked, eyes flashing with mirth. It surprised you to see a small glimmer of care in them—a piece of him that actually gave a shit about you. That was hard to come by in a person and having it be absent from your entire life left you craving it more than you wanted to believe. You wanted someone to mourn you. You wanted to be remembered in some way after you were gone. But the thought of it being him left you with a heavy weight of guilt—an ache you didn’t wish to bear.

“Being closer wouldn’t be worth losing your life.”

“And who are you to fucking determine that huh?” Huffing, you tried to calm the anger that wished to rear its ugly head. There was no use getting into a fight now, not when you had things to do. “I knew what could happen on this job and I said yes. So don’t lecture me on staying alive when it was you asking me to follow this plan.”

“You’re going to blame this on me?” He moved closer, forcing you to stumble back until your back hit the cold metal wall of the ship. “You want to put your death on my hands?”

“Cass—”

His hands slammed against the wall on either side of your head, caging you in as his expression shifted to anger. “Fine. But you cannot say your death means nothing.”

“Oh come on Cassian. There’s no need to pretend that you care.” You were prodding at an open wound, but you couldn’t stop. That was the relationship you two shared. You wound each other up so tightly that anything could make you snap, leaving you in a mess of your own making.

“Don’t—”

Your lips pulled up into a sneer. “We both know that I’m here to be expendable. I was going to die either way—”

He gripped the back of your neck tightly in one hand, his lips slotting against yours roughly, catching you entirely by surprise. You hadn’t expected him to kiss you. Fighting happened regularly between the two of you, but kissing…anything to show a small fracture of tenderness was unheard of. Yet you didn’t pull away. You found you couldn’t. He was too enticing to stray from and you craved him far more than you originally thought.

Falling into his hold, you dug your hands into his hair, yanking on the strands and pressing your body even closer. Whether this was born out of the incessant need that hummed beneath your skin or the adrenaline that still filled you, neither of you could say. You wouldn’t be surprised if he regretted this whole fucking thing once it was over. But you refused to go near that topic. 

Not when he was slipping his tongue into your mouth and drawing out sounds you hadn’t made in what felt like eons.

“You’re frustrating,” he grunted against your lips, hands yanking at your top as you practically ripped at his jacket.

“Look who’s talking.”

He didn’t respond, his palms sliding down your sides and grinning as your head fell back, a breathy sound reverberating off the walls. Seconds passed by before you realized that it came from you. 

You didn’t care if there was barely any gentleness behind his hands, all you could care about was that they were warm and they made you shiver with want. A need to have him inside you stronger than you’d ever felt it before. Sure, you’d known him nearly all your life and once or twice you entertained the idea of being with him, but nothing ever came from those daydreams.

Until now.

“You’re not the expendable one,” he mumbled, helping you to strip off his shirt before he pulled at your pants.

“Don’t lie to me.”

His expression hardened, hand sliding into your underwear that was practically soaked through from your slick. You were dripping for him to a point where heat spread up your neck and face once he realized. Cassian had always been able to carve himself into your heart. Create a spot meant solely for him. It’s how he knew you’d say yes, how he knew you’d be willing to fight alongside him—even be willing to let him touch you like this.

That’s what aggravated you the most. He knew how you felt and never told you how he felt.

His name was a broken plea on your lips, your eyes falling shut as his fingers swiped through your slick, pressing against your clit lightly. It wasn’t enough to ease the throbbing between your legs, barely enough to even count as a touch. He was simply taunting you with what he could do.

“You think I’m lying?” His other hand cupped your chin, tilting your head to meet his stern gaze. “You were never here to die.”

Your lips curved up into a rueful smile. “Then why am I here huh?” Slipping your hand into his pants, you cupped him gently, a thrill shooting through your chest at the sight of him willing and ready in your hold.

He groaned, his lips brushing yours slowly as you stroked him as if you had all the time in the world. You knew how maddening it felt—every twitch of his cock and slight thrust of his hips telling you as much. Except you never let up. He had his chance to tease you and now it was your turn. Although you knew it would never last long, because he grew anxious. The grip on your chin tightened, his lips molding against yours roughly as he took control again—left you breathless and wanting in his hold.

“You’re here because I need you.”

Finally an admission that let you see through his cold exterior for once. A small piece of the truth that he kept so close to him you were afraid you’d never get to see it at all.

Gasping into the kiss, you felt him shove your leg up and around his hips—the tight hold he had on your thigh was bruising. You enjoyed seeing him take control of a situation, but taking control of you. Moving you how he wanted, giving you pleasure how he saw fit, caused heat to pool in your stomach. A moan spilling free as his teeth nipped sharply at your throat.

You helped him shove your pants down while you tore at his. The groan he pressed to your skin sent sparks down your spine and you felt your body go pliant in his hold. He must have felt it too, because he never gave you a chance to wrap your hand around his aching cock. You barely got a glimpse of it before he was lining himself up and pressing into you—a choked keening moan being swallowed by his lips.

“You’re here to save me from myself,” he murmured, shutting his eyes tightly as your walls clenched down around him. Your nails dug sharply into his shoulders to maintain some level of equilibrium in your dizzying state. But no matter how hard you attempted to clutch at him, you couldn’t stop the array of sensations that wracked your body.

You’d never felt so full before. As if he was breaking you in half only to keep the pieces to himself. To save him from himself. They were words that wouldn’t have held meaning to anyone else—simply something to rush out in the heat of passion—but to you…they were the truth. You’d been saving Cassian his whole life. Even if he was the one to pull you out of the physical altercations, you were the one to restore his heart. To remind him that hope remained in his soul even when the sky went dark from the Empire’s shadow.

“Fuck,” you gasped, head digging into his shoulder as he dug his hands even further into your body. 

His cock dragged along your walls, each ridge pressing deliciously right where you needed it. You felt the coarseness of his hair press along your clit with each thrust of his hips slamming into yours. It made the breath catch in your throat, the sparks stretching from your core to each tendril of your body. He set you alight with the fire in his veins and you begged him to burn you some more.

Digging a hand into his hair, you yanked his head back until his dark eyes clouded with lust locked on yours. His lips were swollen, cheeks flushed, and face shiny with a thin sheen of sweat and still he was perfect. Pressing your thumb along his bottom lip your breath hitched as he took it into his mouth, sucking on it in time with his thrusts. You wanted to ruin him. To remind him that his heart had always been yours.

Only the way he moaned around your thumb, eyes fluttering shut, his hips stuttering as your cunt tightened around him even further, told you that he knew.

“I’m here,” you breathed, feeling his forehead press against yours, his chest heaving with each gasping breath. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Shit,” he panted. His lips pressed roughly against yours, spit trailing down your chin as he licked deeply into your mouth. 

There was no rhyme or reason to your movements—each one a desperate mad pull towards the pleasure you both were aching for. Yet you still remained perfectly in sync. A dance between two people who’s song had always been playing, just never heard before.

“I–” He felt you bear down on his cock, the built up orgasm practically singeing your veins. “I–”

You nodded, lips sliding against his as he sped up, chasing both your releases. “I know,” you replied, the sting of tears burning your eyes. “Me too.”

Finally after wondering for years you understood what he could never say. The words got lodged in his throat each time he looked your way, each time he bothered to hope for something more than this. Sure, you were angry at him half of the time, but it let him know you cared enough to get mad. That you were still with him even if you were apart. He needed you to help him pick up his broken pieces—to replace them with something more than hope.

To finally give him the indulgence of love he constantly pushed away.

“Cassian,” you sobbed, your hips attempting to meet his movements as you finally tipped over the edge.

A ragged grunt was ripped from him as he fell forward, his hand slapping against the wall of the ship. You writhed against him, your body wracked with so much overwhelming pleasure you found it hard to breathe. If you could speak you knew you’d say the three words both of you were terrified to hear and a part of you was glad you stayed silent.

You heard him call out your name through the rushing sound that echoed in your ears. The sound sent a delicious streak of heat down your spine. His cock spurted into you as he followed you off that cliff. Both of you, falling together.

It took a few minutes until either of you were coherent enough to gather your senses and see what came next. Eventually you’d have to talk about what was said, but for now you were content to stay like this.

“Let’s go home,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to your collarbone—your hand running through his hair.

“I’d like that,” you replied, sinking into the warmth his body emitted.

Both of you were surrounded by the reflection of each other’s broken pieces, finally ready to put them back together again.

#cassian andor x reader #cassian andor x you #cassian andor x y/n #cassian andor x f!reader #cassian andor smut #cassian andor #kinktober 2022 #my writing

[angelltheninth]

SFW Masterlist Part 4

DC COMICS

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader - Shelter in the Rain

Dick Grayson x Fem!Reader - On the Dance Floor Our Hearts Beat as One

DC Characters + Tie on the Door

Clark Kent Saves You When You Get Kidnapped

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader - Keep a Cool Head on Your Shoulders

DC Characters Flirting with You

Jason, Dick, Wally and Clark Laying Their Head on Your Lap

Kissing Kara Danvers During an Argument

MCU

Sam Wilson with an S/O who Has Wings Like Him

Cuddling with Bucky Barnes

King Valkyrie x Fem!Reader - A Touch Too Gentle

MCU Characters + Love Hotel

Eddie and Venom with a Affectionate Partner

MCU Character Protective Levels

ARCANE

Arcane Women with a Touch Starved Reader

Secret Relationship with Cassandra Kiramman

Arcane Women as Lovers

Taking Care of Jinx

Caitlyn x Fem!Reader - If Looks Could Kill

Night Routine with Vander

Reunion with Vander

Vi x Fem!Reader - And They Were Cellmates

CRITICAL ROLE

Vax'ildan x Reader - Meeting of Fates

Percy de Rolo x Fem!Reader - Overwhelmingly Yes

Things Percy Does That Make You Swoon

Vax Playing Hard to Get

BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA

Class 1-A Boys Being Protective of You

Helping an Injured and Flirty Keigo Takami/Hawks

Polyamory and Kissing with Bakugo and Izuku

BNHA Boys Being Kabedon'd

Polyamory with Izuku and Bakugo when You're Jealous

BNHA Boys Kabedoning You

Izuku, Bakugo, Shoto and Kirishima + Fanfic Tropes

TWISTED WONDERLAND

Twisted Wonderland Dorm Leaders with a Protective S/O

Twisted Wonderland Men + True Loves Kiss

Twisted Wonderland Men Teasing You

Riddle Rosehearts x Fem!Reader - Riddle Me Your Heart

Savanahclaw Men when You Sneak Into Their Room

Idia Shroud x Fem!Reader - Burning Blue Hot

Twisted Wonderland Men + Pick Up Lines

Secret Relationship with TWST Dorm Men

Leona Kingscholar x Fem!Reader - The Lion King's Fangs

AVATAR

Rivals to Lovers with Lo'ak

Neteyam Being Protective of You

Lo'ak with a Human S/O

Netheyam and Lo'ak Having Their Neck Kissed

Aonung x Fem!Reader - Stars in the Ocean

Neteyam and Lo'ak with an S/O who Gets an Avatar

Neteyam and Lo'ak when You're Curious About Their Fangs and Tails

Jealous Neteyam and Lo'ak

Patching Up Injured Neteyam and Lo'ak

Aonung with a Curious S/O

Cuddling with Neteyam and Lo'ak

Neteyam x Fem!Reader - Little Soldier Boy

Domestic Headcanons with Aonung

Neteyam and Lo'ak with a Human Girlfriend who Wants to Kiss Them on the Lips

Love Triangle with Neteyam and Aonung

Teasing and Flirting with Avatar Men but They Get Handsy

Neteyam Meets Your Parents

Tsundere Tsu'Tey Being Teased

GENSHIN IMPACT

Genshin Men Caught Under the Mistletoe

Scaramouche Asserting Dominance

Genshin Men when They're Flustered

Jealous Al-Haitham Headcanons

Spending New Years Eve with Genshin Men

Genshin Men Being Sick

Genshin Men Carrying You Around

Childe x Fem!Reader - Warmth of His Smile

Kaeya, Diluc, Childe and Zhongli Getting Hugged

VALORANT

Yoru, Phoenix, Sova and Chamber when You Wear Their Clothes

Valorant Agents + Mission Injuries

Valorant Agents Cuddling with You

Yoru, Phoenix, Sova and Chamber Giving Hickies

Valorant Ladies when You Faint

Yoru, Phoenix, Jett and Harbor React to Your Angsty Confession

Viper Wanting Cuddles

CALL OF DUTY

Ghost and Alejandro when They're Away for a Long Time

Task Force 141, Alejandro and Rudy when You Dress Sexy for Bed

Task Force 141 Being Homesick

Call of Duty Proposal Headcanons

Mutual Bodyworship with Simon Riley

BLUE LOCK

Itoshi Sae Marks You as His

Kunigami Rensuke Being a Clingy Sleeper

Boyfriend Bachira Headcanons

Bachira Reacting to Your Confession

Playing the Pocky Game with Itoshi Sae

Blue Lock Team Reacting to You Wearing Their Jersey

Blue Lock Team when You Get Wet From the Rain

Morning After with Team Blue Lock

Kunigami Rensuke as a Superhero

Blue Lock Men as Dads

STAR WARS

Anakin x Reader - Shut Me Up with Your Lips on Mine

The Bad Batch Being Protective

Touch Starved Din Djarin Headcanons

Din Djarin Melting when You Kiss His Hands

Gift Giving with Cassian Andor

A SONG OF ICE AND FIRE

Harwin Strong x Fem!Reader - Your Handsome Rescuer

Daemon, Harwin and Aemond Being Clingy

Daemon Not Being a Morning Person

Possessive Daemon Pins You in the Hallway

#wednesday x reader #bnha x reader #twst x reader #avatar x reader #genshin impact x reader #blue lock x reader #hotd x reader #got x reader #mcu x reader #dc x reader #valorant x reader #star wars x reader #cod x reader #critrole x reader #arcane x reader

[septimaseverinawannawrite]

Don't Leave Me Here

Changing format and style, because I want to keep my motivation strong. 💪👁👄👁

Fandom: Star Wars

Request: Nope. This is the very self-indulgent one shot.

Pairing: Cassian Andor x F!Reader

Summaries: Battle of Scariff brings hope to the Galaxy and the Rebels, but what about the Rogue One's crews, especially with your long-time-crush, Captain Andor.

Contents: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Mutual pining, Friends to lovers, Soft Cassian, Love confessing, Idiots in love.

Warning: Angst. Describing of Injuries, blood, pain and death. Crying. Anxiety. Cliché plot. Writer is being too over emotional and regret nothing.

Rate: M for melodrama

Words: 2,285

A/N: Alternate version of Rouge One 2016's ending. Because I had realised that I didn't write my own. Also, feel a little bit sad, because 2024 is feeling like eternity. But I'm gonna write Cassian's fix-it fan fictions, until I can't write. English is my second Language, please feel free to correct me, and let me know if I miss any CW+TW. Enjoy Reading 😊

🌹Click to My AO3

Death Star Plan was successfully stolen. The battle at Scariff had been considered as a big victory for rebellions. Everyone who stayed at Yavin IV was cheering and crying with joy. Some systems, even, officially declared independents over the Empire’s sovereign right there. Some systems, which tended to give up before, decided to maintain alliances. The spark of flame was reigniting again. The light at the end of the darkest tunnel was like a new dawn — hope.

But it just was at the very first minutes, when the Plan completely broadcast. The Rogue One crews returned with survivors – were not long enough after the battle ended – but mostly were casualties. All Medbay turned into a big, chaotic area; doctors, nurses, medical staffs, and medical droids managed to diagnose every crew’s condition from the worst to ‘nothing much to worry about’.

And the worst, whose state was severe, was Captain Cassian Andor. Y/N’s one of her old and good friends, since she had joined the Rebellions in the first month.

Cassian was a mystery (some even said he was scary), moody, tense and taciturn on the outside – for almost everybody on Yavin IV Base. Actually, he was not. He had a strange humour and points of views toward life, also knowledges in many fields which attracted his team, many women on the base, and Y/N.

As the volunteer at Medbay – after hearing there were survivors – Y/N ran and helped the staffs as much as her strength allowed. First time she saw Cassian, he was covered by blood and wounds, while she was pasting Bacta gel on a supporting crew. She didn’t spare a time to visit him, she must stay outside – standing by. When she finished all the tasks, she noticed that a doctor and assistances had taken care of Cassian already. She was about to visit him in a patient room, but it was forbidden.

Few hours later, the Rebellion Alliances had received the news; Princess Leia was being held in custody by the Empire. Was anything worst happened to the Alliances right now?    

Three days had passed by, Y/N had switched to the ‘autopilot’ mode on working in her station, doing routine. Thanks to all the works which kept her busy until resting time, they also made her forgot what she had dreamt in her sleeping.

On the fourth day, main crews on the cargo ship gradually came to consciousness. Y/N’s good friend at Medbay told her that late morning. She immediately visited them and listening to the incident near the broadcasting tower on Scariff.

Jyn told Y/N everything which Cassian did. She even encouraged her to hold tight on the hope. Chirrut said the force had been staying with Cassian, and the force always worked in many surprising ways. Moreover, the medical staffs allowed everyone, whoever cared about Cassian, to visit him. He was getting much better now, but still unconscious.

She didn’t want to dig up those memories of him being covered by blood and wounds four days ago. Nevertheless, she shook them out, made up her mind, and deciding to see him. Maybe Jyn and Chirrut were right.

            Y/N exited her station to the room where Cassian was placed. She noticed the one and only re-programming Imperial droid on Yavin IV. He stood and starred through the window, seem like he hoped his Captain was waking soon.

“Y/N.” K2SO greeted, “I have calculated the possible that you are going to visit Cassian today, the percentage is…”

“Don’t tell me.” She cut the droid. “Let me go inside without your statistic. My head is aching enough.”

Keying a code, going inside, she cursed herself for being rude to K2SO. Somehow, after visiting Cassian – she would apologise to the droid – since she had forgotten his good intention, underneath the sarcasm.

As Y/N approached the bed, all Cassian’s blood and wounds were cleansed. BPM pulse and body temperature had not become normal yet. He would not wake up within two or three days, according to the report. Numerous I.V.s were still plugging into his veins, also a bandage on his torso.

Y/N sat on a chair beside the bed, examining Cassian’s state closely while she tried to hold back her tears, but it was failed. She could not help herself. All tears ran down her cheeks like a great flood. Four days and three nights felt like months. She let vulnerability got her by sobbing uncontrollably, started talking to him and wishing he could hear;

“Cassian, I know you are willingly to do anything for the Rebellion. I’m really proud. But why do you always run into suicide missions?” Her voice was depressed. “Sometimes, you don’t have to prove that you are one of the best rebel spies by destroying yourself. Mon Mothma and many commanders speak of you highly… even princess Leia…”

Tears still ran down, while she was reaching for his hand, biting lower lip and shook her head.

“I survived the first month because of your helps. You introduce me to many things I know just a bit or haven’t known before, so I can fit in. When I feel down, blue, even black, you cheer me up with your eccentric jokes – and if you are out for a mission, you always say goodbye… this time… you don’t even give me a chance…”

Y/N recalled what was happening when Rogue One recklessly leaved for Scariff, after most allies and commanders objected. She was there. When the meeting ended, she sought Cassian or whoever in his unit. Too late. They had gone.

“I want to blame my stupid brain for bringing the pain that I do not desire to feel. That isn’t a reason. Those words in my mind – I wish I could tell you, after all of these years…” Y/N softly squeezed his hand “Since here we are, only you and me. When you wake up, we are going to be the same. It’s now or never.”

She paused for seconds, took one deep breath, and let all her feels breaking control.

“I love you, Cassian. More than a good friend. I love you with all my heart, my soul, my breath, and my entire existence. You are the one. Every time you come back, I just don’t want to hug you – I want to kiss you like there’s no tomorrow, jumping into you, embracing you in my arms……”

            Y/N kept confessing her feelings toward Cassian until she recognised she was going to weep again. She stopped, stood up, leaned forward to kiss Cassian’s forehead gently, and whispered before leaving.

“Just don’t leave me here…”

            She dried her eyes, leaved Cassian behind, and repressing the desire to look at him again. As she exited, K2SO still had been on the spot. She sighed, walking toward the droid.

“I’m sorry Kay. I shouldn’t say such things. Well, I don’t have any excuse.”

“At least you didn’t hit me. I don’t expect anything. I have calculated, there is a high chance that you’re going to apologise. So, I forgive you.”

Y/N could swear to Kriff that K2SO mentally shrugged, judging by his tone. She crossed her arms and faking a smile.

“Then we’re even.” Looking on the floor, she gazed up at K2SO again. “Tell me, have you calculated when Captain Andor is going to wake up?”

“I did, but I think you don’t need it anymore.”

She raised her eyebrows. The droid did say nothing, just looked into the room. She followed suit, shook her head, and suddenly rushing inside.

Cassian opened his eyes. Blinking rapidly, he glanced around. The last thing he remembered – before everything turning black – was K2SO and Jyn helping him into an escape pod, also thinking about Y/N and regretting that he had not bid a proper farewell yet. And how the Kriff he could be here now, at the medical section on Rebelli—

“Maker!” she exclaimed, stopping him from the train of thought – While she was restraining herself from hugging him.

Cassian swore in his native tongue. Unbelievably, his eyes might be deceiving him – Y/N was here – impossible. This place could be wherever the creatures went after the death.

“No, this isn’t true. Scariff was destroyed by the Death Star… You can’t be here.”

Y/N wanted to punch him in the face, but it could send him back to the unconsciousness again. She tried to keep calm, but instead, her tears explode again.

“Don’t you dare say such a thing—”

His mouth was gaping a little, looking downward at his own body. His torso and his head still hurt. He felt everything which plugged on his arm, thinking backward – moreover, before he could open his eye – he could hear Y/N said something… about the relationship, and love. Especially what he had been holding on for a long time, the same thing she had blurted out. He thought they were an illusion.

He sat up, his back and his bone were cracking loudly. He breathed deeply, restraining all the agony. Y/N supported him; holding his upper body and adjusting pillows.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” He paused, as she was sitting beside the bed, “This mission is important. We must do it fast. That fucking weapon is too dangerous… like I’ve told you before, if we waited for permission, the Empire could be a hundred steps ahead…”

“No hard feelings. You survive, wake up and healing. The Empire is going to fall. Those are all I want.”  

Seeing Y/N sniffed, sobbed and looked down at the floor, Cassian’s eyes were softer than ever. He reached out to take her hand, that grab an edge of the bed, caressing it gently.

“Please don’t cry. Kay tells me once that tears can drain oneself, and… You deserve all happiness in the galaxy.”

She gazed into his eyes. Perplexing spread on her pale face.

“What Kay’s randomly statistic has to do with my happiness?”

Cassian sighed quietly. Smiling, he whispered in Kenari, decided to speak all his heart out.

“Come sitting here.” He patted a space on the mattress. Although she was still dazing, she consented. Here, it was closer than ever, every time they interacted.

“Your happiness is my happiness. Your pain is my pain.”

She gasped. Something was dawning in her mind, but he still kept continuing;

“I thought I was dead or dreaming. It is not. I hear what you have said. I feel all the things you have done. I’m not going to leave you here anymore. I love you, Y/N; with all my heart, my breath, my soul, and my entire existence.”

“Cass…”

“Please don’t leave me here, too.”

His voice was filled with pleading and the utmost longing. His eyes had not brightened yet, but they were brighter than ever – before he disappeared as the council was dismissing.

“I’m not gonna leave you. Ever.”

All the affectionate and things which left unsaid within their eyes were exploding. Her lips were parted – trying to reply – but his hand slowly moving to her face. Caressing it tenderly and trailing downward from her cheek to her chin, he tugged her weave behind her ear. Cassian and Y/N could feel their breaths upon their own skins. Their eyes were exchanging feeling from through all of these years, as she put her hand on his shoulder.

Cassian didn’t hesitate. He leaned in to capture Y/N lips softly. It was like a butterfly pecking on flowers, an index finger touching a velvet cloth. They paused for seconds to catch the breath. She sensed that the temperature in this room was rising and warmer than before.

“I won’t do this again…” He whispered, looked into her eyes and circling his thumbs over her cheek and her hand.

“You don’t have to…”

“I’m not gonna be reckless. I will ask Mon Mothma and other commanders for table-work. More time on base, less time t—”

Y/N sealed Cassian’s mouth with her lips, lightly pushing him back on pillows. His eyes were widening, but he grinned while kissing her back. His hand on hers moved from to the back of her neck, gradually pulling her down to deepen the passionate kiss.

“There is ninety-nine per cent that Y/N is gonna kiss you like this, Cassian.”

Y/N was abruptly jumping back to a chair. She almost fell from a sickbed, as she heard K2SO’s voice. Cassian, also the same, but he gripped a metal beside tightly enough.

“Kay!” Cassian hissed the Droid, who was standing near infirmary’s trolleys.

“Oh, I shouldn’t have disturbed you both, since you have always wished the scenario like this, should I?”

“Go visiting others.” He ordered. The droid did as he was told – turned around and walking out. Both Cassian and Y/N heard K2SO talking to himself, distinctly, like the droid wanted them to hear.

“Humans are such the peculiar life-forms. I will ask technicians on loading how to understand the humankind programme.”

“Maybe I will tell the technicians to not upload that.”

Cassian sighed loudly, shook his head, and turning to Y/N for opinion. But what he saw was she had been covering her face with her hands in shyness.

“No, I’m gonna tell them myself.”

Cassian joyfully laughed. She still sat and posing as the same. If his eyes were not deceived him, he saw the redness on her temple, her ears, and her neck.

“I should tell you how I feel earlier. But, it's okay, you are lovely when you are like this.”

“Stop it.” She glanced and swiftly pressing the comm, calling a doctor, before Cassian could tease her more.

At the point, she didn’t doubt why K2SO just being K2SO. Because the one who had reprogrammed this imperial droid was just the same as him.

Thank you for reading Your likes, comments and rebloggings are appreciated! 🥰🥰🥰

#cassian andor fanfiction #cassian andor x reader #cassian andor x f!reader #cassian andor x you #cassian andor x original female character #cassian andor angst #cassian andor fluff #cassian andor hurt/comfort #cassian andor imagine #cassian andor needs big hug #he is soft please hug him #reader insert #female reader #your original female character #star wars fanfiction #rouge one fanfiction #andor fanfiction #cassian andor #septimaseverinawannawrite

[thescarletfang]

Ok I’ve started a Cassian x RebelMedNurse fic and I’m nervous but excited - here’s a sneak peek! Nervous!

#cassian andor fic #cassian andor x reader #cassian Andor x you #cassian andor x f!reader #nervous af #CAN I DO THIS

[fluffyprettykitty]

Cassian Andor NSFW alphabet

Pairing: Cassian Andor x female reader (no other specifications!)

Word Count: 2300 words

Warnings: multiple sex positions, come feeding, praise, creampie, exhibitionism, sex toys, oral, fingering, nipple play, rimming, finger sucking. Let me know if I forgot anything major!

Author’s Note: I really wanted to do it so thank you for the encouragement ;)

dividers by @firefly-graphics ​//​ banners by @maysdigitalarts

Main Masterlist ・❥・Cassian Andor Masterlist

NSFW UNDER THE CUT. MINORS DNI.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Cassian is doting and caring after the act. He loves taking his time smothering you in kisses and running his fingers through your body. There’s something about that intimacy that fills his heart with joy and cannot stop slowly breathing close to your ear as he pulls you closer and closer. He also likes it when you run your fingers through his hair, loving that familiar intimate touch. Cassian also loves helping you shower after the act, caressing your body and lathering it slowly until he makes sure you are clean as you can be. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Cassian does love his face and his hair a lot. He likes also his scruffy beard and loves nuzzling against your neck or cheek or even when you caress him in tender moments. As for the women, Cassian does not have a preference per se, he is just a woman lover through and through and loves being able to caress and touch your body any way he likes discovering what is the most unique thing about you. Cassian also is obsessed with your lips, he loves kissing, he loves making out and he loves the sticky sounds that come with it.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Cassian likes cumming everywhere basically. He loves shooting on your face, and loves it when he paints your breasts with it, and also loves it when he can double finish inside you and watch it all leak out. He also loves feeding you his cum with his long fingers. Is a mental image that stays with him for days and days. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

The dirtiest secret that Cassian keeps to himself is that he loves it to eat your ass and he also loves it when you do it for him. Is very rare and he loves knowing someone else can make him such a mess like this. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Cassian is very experienced. He could not be more experienced, his reputation is well and known along the lands and he has nothing but satisfied partners, his only problem is that he never stays long enough to stick around. But he takes his time, for your pleasure, delaying his as long as you are pleading and begging for no more. He loves knowing he has that effect on you. Also, there is no move, no kink, and no activity that Cassian hasn’t already done or isn’t game for. Cassian in a very well-experienced lover and he never minds taking the lead or taking a seat back depending on the situation.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Riding. He loves you on top of him, breasts bare, hands on his hair, pulling them as you are trying to fuck yourself on him. He of course prefers making no effort at all just watching you struggle. Once he has enough of your performance, he loves pinning you down and grabbing your wrists as he fucks you animalistically against any surface. Also, he loves it very much to fuck behind a door, standing up, with your leg around his back. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Cassian has humor, he knows how to laugh at the funny moment or recite a funny story to have you loosen up easier. He knows how easily one joke can turn into him sliding a finger inside, so he never misses an opportunity to do so. And he also loves hearing your laugh during the act, watching you so happy as he is staffing you fully.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He is as groomed as his life allows him to be. Obviously, there is hair everywhere on his body but his hygiene is the best it can be. He likes taking care of himself and cleaning himself, even if he skips the colognes because he is not living a fancy life out there.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Cassian is romantic during the act because it’s a rare moment where he gets to be as free and as loving as he can be. He kisses you between anything and praises you and repeats words of affirmation and love all the time, worshipping you and the world in every aspect. But he also keeps it rough at the same time. He manages to balance it out perfectly. Showing his affection to you is his favorite thing to do during the act. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Cassian prefers real sex instead of masturbation and is never hard enough for him to find someone but in the moments that he does, he does it slowly, preferably listening to an old voice message of yours or finding a picture of you. His head is full of thought as he brings both hands, one on his cock, one fonding his balls, grunting as he cums. Especially when he has you on the other line of the Comcast link.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Cassian has many kinks. He loves bondage, he loves grinding, he loves your breasts, he loves fucking your ass, he likes some pain, he likes watching you cry from too much pleasure, he loves spanking you, he loves it when you choke him or tie him up. He loves the sloppiest blow jobs and fingering you with his gloves on, shoving his cock between your breasts, and then facefucking you. He loves it in any way he can find and loves switching you but he also loves commanding you and watching you do exactly as he says. He also likes it when you blindfold him and all he can do is anticipate your next move, He also likes it when you are fully naked, riding his thigh while he is all dressed up. And creampies. Basically, he likes it all.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Beds and of course the cockpit. Always the favorite place for any pilot. But mostly he likes doing it in close proximity to being caught, in alleys and behind the bar and mostly behind closed doors and even right where you wouldn’t expect one to. One palm over your mouth and his cock deep between your ass cheeks and into your pussy fucking you fast.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Cassian is one of those people who is always horny, maybe is the way he lives, and the danger that comes with it but he is always thinking about it in some way. So is not hard for him to get turned on at all. But he does love it when you call his name, something so intimate and yet familiar about it.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

He doesn’t have many turn-offs, but he won’t ever do something you wouldn’t want him to do. 

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He both loves giving and receiving. He likes spending hours eating you out with your legs trying to push his head in and of course he loves watching you gag on his cock, trying to swallow him whole. He is quite an expert at it, pussy eating by now, and is one of the first things he does during the act, he never proceeds to fuck you without at least one orgasm before he gets his cock inside you. He uses both his fingers and his tongue, wanting to have you as wet as possible before he makes a move. One hand always goes up to your breasts squeezing them as the other one has fingers shoved inside you, the tip of his tongue flicking your clit. On the rare days he gets to eat you out for more than an hour, he cums like that shooting inside his pants. Some other times though he is even stroking his cock as you are drowning him with your thighs. Now when it comes to him, he is also cool with whatever you are comfortable with, if you don’t like it fast he will go slow. Even if he likes guiding you on his cock, he also wonders what you can do on your own so a lot of times he just relaxes and watches you do all the work. 

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Cassian can be anything he wants at the moment. Sometimes he likes it slow, sometimes depending on the day he had he likes it rough, and other times he likes barely moving all night as he is circling your nipples with the tip of his tongue. After a bad mission, he will take his frustration out on you, and on a good day, he will fuck you senseless out of happiness.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He likes quickies. He doesn’t mind at all, having some for a little bit until he can get more later or even on the days he won’t. He also doesn’t mind giving you some as a treat. He could do it several times a day if there is no premise for the night or a couple of times till he can. 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Cassian is always game to experiment. He loves taking risks and trying new things. He loves knowing as much as possible as there is to know about the act and he loves trying new things and even new places. He also loves breaking in things and furniture like this.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Oh, Cassian can last. He can last well. He loves taking his time when he can to fuck you and pleasure and he almost always wants a minimum of two rounds if he sees you can keep it up he loves amping that to four. Those rare nights where he reaches seven times are his favorite though but it does take hours.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Well, depending on the narrative whether they exist or not in the universe, Cassian wouldn’t hesitate to use one. He knows the device could be beneficial to the overall experience and he does put your pleasure first and always. Now when it comes to sensory deprivations and tricks he is the first to suggest using them because it’s something he prefers. Whether on him or on you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Cassian loves teasing because he knows he will be fucking and commanding you later. He is going to start by whispering inappropriate things in your ear, making lewd comments, and very rarely touching you because he knows you’d find his voice more compelling for that and he also likes to smirk and wink or even lick his lips together. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Cassian can become loud if he wants to. Most of the time he might try to keep it quiet because the walls are never thin but when he can let loose, he makes sure anyone could hear him. He loves to speak during the act because he is overall a talker and between praises and degrading words, the biggest sound that hangs off his lips is your name. A constant repeat of it is like a prayer. He also has an extremely performative face during the act making you want to watch his expressions. 

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Cassian loves dancing. He loves to watch you move and swing for him and then give him a lap dance. He loves and craves it but he never ever asks for it. He loves the whole act of you grinding on him and him groping you as you go and likes it even more when all of this is happening during a public appearance. He is pretty exhibitionist like this. He loves the risk of being caught, knowing just three seconds ago he was just cumming inside you while now he is casually talking to someone else.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Cassian has a good physique. His body is overall lean and muscular with various scars covering from his harder days. The occasional tattoo symbolizes something important for him and of course, his favorite part is the marks frpm your teeth on his neck. 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Cassian possesses a very high sex drive. He can keep at it for hours and he is always somehow up for it. He would never say no to a quickie, whatever body part it required, oral or physical sex. He likes it often so he almost never says no to it. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

Sex is Cassian’s biggest stress reliever. It doesn’t take him long to fall asleep afterward, holding you close to his arms and rocking you slowly as he whispers sweet melodies against your ear. He loves the romance and the intimacy of the act because he doesn’t get enough love often so he makes sure to savor these rare moments as much as he can. When he falls asleep, he is usually naked with his cock still deep inside you and you sprawled on his naked chest, his hands keeping you warm. 

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