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amywritesthings · 1 year

Text

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

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silver-pieces · 1 year

Text

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.

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fluffyprettykitty · 2 years

Text

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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607 notes · View notes

flightlessangelwings · 6 months

Text

Ktober 2023 Day 10- Stripping

Cassian Andor x fem!reader

Word count- 1.6k

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), established relationship, pining, riding, feelings, no use of y/n

Notes- I actually kinda struggled with what prompt to write Cassian for cause I kept changing my mind but then this fell into place and works perfectly! I still maintain that Andor is the best thing Star Wars has done recently I'm obsessed with how amazing it was!! Prompt list made by me! Enjoy!

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

Cassian sighed dejected as he knocked on your door. It had been a long day, and when he hit a rough patch, Cassian usually found himself at your place to seek refuge. You were a comfort to him, even if all feelings were left unspoken. And the moment you opened the door and he saw your face again, all his trouble felt like they melted away just from looking into your eyes.

“Cassian,” you breathed as you stepped aside to let him in, “What happened? You look rough.”

“Things have been difficult lately,” was all he said as he stepped into your apartment.

You guided him into the living space and sat him down on a chair before you sat across from him, “You want to talk about it?” you asked with a pleading look on your face.

“Not particularly,” he sighed. Cassian’s eyes trailed down your figure to your hand, which you had placed on his knee in a comforting manner. He swallowed hard as he felt the warmth spread from his knee all the way to his chest… and to his cock.

Noticing the way he shifted in his seat, you let out a deep breath, “I think I know what you need tonight, baby,” your tone dropped as you saw his eyes widen.

You let go of where you rested your hand on his knee and stood up. When Cassian tried to stand with you, thinking you were going to lead him to your bedroom, you placed a hand on his chest and silently guided him back down to sit. He whispered your name, but before he could ask what you had in mind, you raised a finger to his lips, effectively silencing him.

Cassian both loved and hated how much power you actually had over him.

You flicked something on, and music started to play as you swung your hips slowly to the beat of the rhythm. Cassian looked you up and down, and adjusted his posture to open himself up to you more.

“Like what you see, Cassian?” you asked in a low hum, catching how his jaw tightened the more you shimmied your hips.

“You know what the answer is,” he replied in a breathy tone, as if he was holding himself back.

A smirk lit up your face as you danced your way closer to him, straddling his lap. You allowed Cassian to rest his hands on your hips, gently guiding your motions as you swayed over him. You were calculated in your movements, and made sure to brush against his cock a few times before staying teasingly far at the same time. Hovering closer to Cassian’s lips, you felt his breath on your skin. But, you broke away before you closed the gap.

Cassian let out a frustrated grunt as you lifted yourself up off his lap and continued to dance for him. But, his annoyance vanished when you grabbed your shirt and slowly lifted it up inch by inch to the beat of the music. Teasingly slow at first, you only allowed him glaces of your skin. You wanted to make him wait, you wanted him to want you so desperately that he couldn’t fight his urges to keep his hands to himself.

Agonizingly slow, you started to expose more and more of your skin to Cassian, and you saw the way his eyes darkened with every peak you gave him. Finally, you lifted your shirt up and off, leaving you topless before him. Cassian clenched his fists involuntarily as he raked his gaze over your chest. He had seen you many times before, yet when you stayed sensually to the music that played, something felt different.

You came back to where he was seated and straddled him once more. This time, Cassian didn’t put his hands on your hips, but on your breasts. You moaned softly as he squeezed and pinched at your soft skin, and you arched your back into his grip.

“Cassian,” you moaned as you rocked your hips against his, feeling his cock underneath you.

He breathed your name as his eyes looked up to meet yours. Locks of his hair fell into his eyes, but it only framed his face better. This time, you couldn’t resist and you leaned in and took Cassian’s lips with your own. He groaned into you as you continued to move your hips back and forth.

Breaking away with a gasp, you pushed yourself off of him once more, and you heard his grunt of frustration over the music. You couldn’t stifle the laugh you let out as you turned around and shook your ass for him. Cassian had come to you many times before, and the two of you started an unofficial routine. He came to you when he needed a release, when he needed to let off some steam. And in return, Cassian made sure you were safe from any threats. But this… this was something new and different.

You had never felt this bold with him before. You had never teased him like this before. And you certainly never gave him a strip dance like this before. It was exhilarating watching him fight to hold his composure as his eyes darkened. And something in you told you that he was enjoying this just as much as you were.

Perhaps more.

As you swayed your hips to the music, you hooked your fingers under the hem of your pants and slowly pushed them down. This time, however, you decided not to tease Cassian as much. You kept a slow but determined pace as you shook your ass to the music while you pushed your pants down.

Cassian let out a low rumble as he fought to keep himself seated for the show you put on. You never told him not to move, but like everything with the two of you, it was unspoken. But as your ass bounced out of your pants, Cassian’s cock strained and screamed at him and it became harder and harder for him to stay still.

When you turned back around, you were bare for him, and you kicked your pants away. Your eyes trailed down his seated form and landed on his cock tenting in his pants. “I think I’ve teased you long enough, Cass,” you cooed as you sauntered over to him.

“I would say so,” he huffed in agreement.

You straddled his hips once more, but this time you reached down and freed his cock from his pants. Involuntarily, you licked your lips as it sprang free and at full attention. “Fuck…” you breathed as you wrapped your hand around it and stroked it a few times.

Cassian whispered your name, causing you to pause and meet his gaze, “Sit on my cock,” his tone was low and commanding, yet not harsh. Like it was a question and a statement at the same time.

“Anything you want, Cass,” you moaned as you lifted your hips and lined his cock up with your pussy.

He rested his hands on your bare hips, guiding your body as you sank down onto his cock. You let out a loud moan as you impaled yourself on him and your hands grabbed into his shoulder for balance.

“That’s my girl,” Casssian purred as he let out a gasp of his own at feeling your wet tightness around him once more.

You whimpered as you sat yourself on his lap, his cock fully sheathed inside you. Time seemed to stop for a moment as you met his eyes, and your heart fluttered in your chest. But, Cassian was not yours to have, not really. This was just an agreement between the two of you, just a release.

Feeling the rhythm flood your veins once more, you lifted yourself up a bit and lowered back down. You moved your hips to the beat of the music that still played faintly in the background, and your mind swam in the pleasure that was his cock.

“Fuck,” Cassian hissed as he watched you bounce and rock on his lap. You felt so good, and it took biting his tongue to keep the praises from flowing from his lips.

“Cassian,” you moaned as your eyes fluttered shut and you dropped your head back. You started to lose your rhythm as you bounced on his cock, focusing more on the pleasure than the music.

“That’s it sweetheart,” Cassian groaned as he bucked his hips up against you.

Together, the two of you found a rhythm, and you grinded against each other in desperate need for release. Moans and groans from both of you filled the room and drowned out the music. You moved faster as heat rose in your body and you felt the familiar tingle build within you.

“Cum for me,” Cassian purred.

As if on cue, you came hard, clenching and trembling around Cassian as you screamed loudly. Cassian groaned as he wrapped his arms around you and yanked you close, pounding into you until he too hit his peak. He bit down on your shoulder to stifle his own groans as he spilled himself inside you.

Once the two of you were spent, you collapsed forward into his shoulder. Cassian’s arms stayed wrapped around you, holding you close as you settled yourself on his lap. Faintly, you were both aware of the music in the background, but the sounds of your beating hearts drowned it out.

Cassian wanted to tell you how much he cared about you, how much he craved seeing you time and time again. But, he also needed to keep you safe, and that also meant keeping you at arm’s length. But, at least for now, he could savor the feeling of you in his arms as you breathed heavily. For just that moment, you were his, and everything was perfect.

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kybercvnt · 2 years

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Bargaining

Pairing – Cassian Andor x GN!Reader

Summary – Andor comes to you looking to sell something of his, except he wants to negotiate for more than just credits.

Word Count – 1416

A/N – Immediately after binging the first 3 eps, I couldn't help myself and felt the need to pump something out.

SPOILER FREE

It wasn't a particularly interesting day. Quietness spread throughout the room, with the exception of the ambient chatter of people on the street and the hum of radio music in the corner of your shop. The inactivity of business was a familiar event, and so the work became more of a dull chore than an actual job.

Running a scrap shop on Ferrix was probably the worst idea ever, especially having competition with every other scrap shop in town. It was still a surprise to you that you could still manage to keep the shop afloat.

That was until you saw your regular customer walk in—Cassian Andor—a favourite. He walked under the doorway and spotted you, his cold features warming up when you caught his eye. You glanced at the time from behind the counter.

“You’re late. Thought you’d never show.” You teased him. Cassian had a schedule when it came to visiting your palace of robot parts. Without fail, he would arrive on the hour, except today. Sometimes you weren’t sure if he was visiting for the business, or for the company. Compared to the other myriad of sister shops on every corner, it would make you think he was ripping you off with all the times he dropped by.

“I know, I’m sorry. I had some transport trouble, I’m sorry that you missed me.” He smirked at you and then placed a ship component on the surface in front of you. You raised your eyebrow at him.

“A stabiliser? I’ve got like ten of those,” you scoffed before handling the component and twisting it around. That’s when you saw a small sigil etched into the side of it, “holy shit, is this imperial?” You gawked at the piece of metal. He crossed his arms and leaned back in pride, nodding. “How the hell did you get your hands on this?” You asked him and started twisting it around in your hands, getting a good inspection on the spacecraft part.

“Some old crashed ship a few hours out of town.” He explained, and you returned the stabiliser to its position on the counter.

“How much d’you want for it?” Your fists rested against the table, balancing your weight on them. Cassian contemplated for a second before speaking.

“Five thousand credits.” His words were filled with conceit. You scoffed at the suggestion and slid the scrap closer to him.

“Not a chance.” You replied, and pushed yourself up and rounded the counter, walking past Cassian who was now looking at you, dumbfounded.

“What, why not? This is premium imperial technology, it’s probably worth more than that!” He exclaimed, but you didn’t turn to face him. You picked up a nearby rag on a different table and started scrubbing the grime off of a small heat sink.

“That,” you pointed to the stabiliser in front of him, “my dear Cassian, is empire junk. If they find out that you stole that, then you’ve earned yourself a blaster to the head.” You went back to scrubbing.

“Fine then. Four thousand for the illicit part.” You couldn’t help but smile at his unwillingness to back down. You stopped the scrubbing and placed the items down before spinning around and sitting on the edge of the table with your arms crossed.

Now that you could see him again, you took a long look at his face. His face was surfaced in oil and dirt and his unkempt hair with his growing beard tied the whole ‘rugged scavenger’ look together. Whenever he looked at you, his features would soften and all you wanted to do was to hold his face in your hands and stare into his eyes. The same eyes that noticed your staring, and you snapped out of your daydream from under his gaze. He was flattered, and as a result, he expressed an arrogant smirk.

“Three thousand. It’s almost a decade outdated, not as premium as you think.” You countered, and he clicked his tongue and started to slowly stride towards you. You nearly leapt off your temporary seating when you straightened up. He was very close to you, and you swore you could feel his body heat from the proximity.

“What if I buy this?” He picked up the heat sink you were previously cleaning and shook it in the air, looking at you. You felt his warm breath on your shoulder when he spoke, but you weren’t ready to let him exploit you that easily.

“It would run you about five hundred credits.” He made a mockingly pouting face at your answer. “These are trying times, Cassa.” You clarified. He made a quiet little huff of laughter at your tenacity that made your heart flutter, but he was willing to play this game with you as long as you were.

“You wound my pockets, sweetheart.” You nearly melted on the spot. “I could probably get a better deal with Bix.” You were slightly offended by his claims. So he decided to play dirty, mocking your lack of business as a threat tactic to rip you off further.

“But Bix wouldn’t be your favourite scrapper to visit, would she?” That wiped the smirk off his face, and you found yourself feeling slightly dismayed watching his serious face. You made the terrible mistake of calling attention to his frequent and predictable visits. You weren’t afraid that he would lash out at you—no, you knew Cassian well and you knew he wasn’t one to react violently at you—so that’s what scared you most, the unknowingness of a reaction. He started to lean in over your shoulder, mouth hovering over your ear. Your breath hitched when you felt his body press closer into your own.

“You’re right,” your tensed muscles relaxed, relieved at his words, “she’s not. I’d always pay a little extra to see you.” The feeling was short-lived after he said the last part, and you felt your cheeks grow warmer. He leaned back, catching your eyes once more, and looking at you with a soft ogling, reading your reaction. Your lips were ajar to let your ragged breaths seep through, as he made it difficult for you to breathe all of a sudden. Your body ran its troubleshooting and you snapped back to reality, straightening your posture to exhibit your utmost fakest confidence that you could muster.

“How do I know it works?” You asked, completely ignoring his insinuation.

“I was careful not to disturb the wiring when I excavated it. Want to find out?” He replied.

“Two thousand two fifty and I’ll throw in a full repair check.” You offered.

“Two thousand two fifty, but you throw in a kiss on top of that.” He suggested, and his hands found them on either side of you, resting on the edge of the table behind you. This resulted in him closing the gap between your two bodies, as he pressed you into the surface behind you.

“You could get that for free.” It was like your heart spoke for you, the words rolling off your tongue autonomously. It was all Cassian needed to crash his lips onto yours. You caved into your fantasies from your daydreams and your hands found their way to his beard and you caressed his jaw. In comparison, his hands left the table and found your waist, to which he embraced.

Your lips moved wildly and passionately against each other, he wasn’t holding back any longer. The crush that he had for you expanded every time he walked into your shop, every time he saw you, and every time you spoke. You never did anything specifically that made him fall in love. Since there was barely any business, you basically did most of the cleaning and repairing during the hours he wasn’t there, so he fell in love with you for doing absolutely nothing.

Most of the time, the bargaining would just be an excuse to talk to you longer. He didn’t care about the credits, or the value, rarity, technicality, or whatever. He just wanted to talk to you more.

After a while of a fiery makeout session, he pulled away, leaving you both in a hot and breathy mess. You were disappointed, but welcomed the much needed break.

“Two thousand two fifty. I’ll pick it up tomorrow.” He started to walk backwards, rounding to the exit. “I’ll know to use my regular-customer discount next time.” He winked at you before taking his leave, and left you anticipating your favourite customer’s return.

#cassian andor #cassian andor x reader #cassian x reader #star wars x reader #cassian andor x you #cassian andor x y/n #cassian x you #cassian x y/n #my fics #star wars imagine #star wars x you #star wars x y/n

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feyre-darling92 · 1 year

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Star Wars men: Headcanons

When they’re jealous

A/N: Soo, I was listening to “No” by Meghan Trainor and this idea came.

T/W: a couple of swear words, nothing too serious

Cassian Andor

When he saw this guy approaching you he literally ran to your side

“Hello, beautiful. Wanna dance?” he asked you and you said you already had a date.

He insisted and before you could reply Cassian did

“Actually, she has a date”

His stare could kill

After the guy left his hand was on your waist, holding you close

“Jealous, are we?” you raised an eyebrow amused.

He, of course, didn’t admit it

Neither left your side for the rest of the night

Din Djarin

The man insisted to buy you a drink even though you’d told him you had a boyfriend

When Din noticed he rushed to your side, one hand on your waist and other on his blaster

The sight of the mandalorian was intimidating enough for him to leave you

Let alone a mandalorian who was ready to shoot any guy who flirted with his girlfriend

When Fennec and Boba teased him about it he didn’t say anything, neither admited that he was jealous

However the hand that was always on your waist or on your shoulder suggested otherwise

And of course made sure to show you later how much better he was than him ;)

Obi-Wan Kenobi

You were on a diplomating mission when a general started flirting with you

Obi-Wan couldn’t help but step in

“I believe we should go, dear” he spoke to you with a tone you’d never heard before.

“And you are?” the general questioned.

“A close friend” he forced a smile and with a protective hand on the small of your back led you out of the room.

“A close friend?” you raised an eyebrow, “Are you jealous?”

“No”

“Be careful, Kenobi. Jealousy is not a good feeling” you teased him more

The following night was interesting

Poe Dameron

You were celebrating a succeessful mission and this guy wouldn’t leave you alone no matter how many times you had sent him no

Of course, Poe noticed

“I am sorry, man but do you want me to spell the word ‘no’ to you?”

“Who the fuck are you?” he grinned.

“Her boyfriend” he replied dead serious.

“Well, you should be here”

Poe couldn’t help the punch he send to the guy’s face, breaking his nose

Not before he had punched him on the cheek.

“How many times have I told you that you have no reason to be jealous?” you sighed as you cleaned the wound.

“Sorry” he muttered like a chilld who had been scolded

“You know that I am yours”

Taglist: @stanny-uwu , @hollymac79 , @triumph-of-form-over-content , @michelle-l-a-k , @lovepeaceorelse , @mithicakurogo

#star wars x reader #star wars fanfiction #starwars fanfic #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x you #obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan imagine #obi wan fanfiction #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #cassian x reader #cassian andor x you #feyre-darling92 #feyre darling92

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angelltheninth · 6 months

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Gift Giving with Cassian Andor

Pairing: Cassian Andor x Reader

Tags: fluff, established relationship, gift giving, kissing, sitting in his lap, teasing, making out

Flufftober Day 23: Trinket

A/N: Put a little bit spice in this flufftober prompt, hope you don't mind.

A kiss, a hug, pilot seat cuddles. The three things you always greeted Cassian with. It was the three things he always welcomed no matter how tired he felt, or energized in this case. Stubble prickled your skin as he deepened the kiss and pulled you fully on top of him, "Hold on, need to adjust better."

You had no problem with him moving around under you but it did bring something to your attention, "Is that a gun in your pocket or are you happy to see me?" There was definitely something you were grinding against. Perhaps the reason he was moving around?

"Neither. It's... what I was in town for." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a shining green jewel, "Noticed you eyeing this one at the market. I thought I'd get you something nice for all your effort."

"Did you steal this?" Your fingers skimmed over the shiny, smooth surface, looking at Cassian with both awe and terror, "Cassian, I'm grateful but what if the Troopers arrive? Anyone could have seen you. You could get arrested, again." No trinket was worth him going to jail for.

"First of all I bought this fairly, second no one saw me, and third we'll be out of this System soon. Besides you think I wouldn't risk it to put a smile on your face? You know me better than that love." When people spoke of love making you do crazy things you could confidently point to Cassian as a prime example. "And since I went through all that trouble," Cassian's hands slipped under your shirt, "and this ship is on autopilot, maybe I could get a little something in return. Cause that other thing? It's not a gun."

Of course it wasn't, "Knew you had an ulterior motive. Maybe I should be the one to arrest you for exchanging favors." You slipped the jewel into the pocket of your jacket before you allowed him to take it off, "Get the handcuffs."

#star wars x reader #cassian andor x reader #star wars x you #cassian andor x you #star wars imagine #cassian andor imagine #star wars headcanons #cassian andor headcanon #star wars fluff #cassian andor fluff #x reader #flufftober #fluff drabble

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beskarandblasters · 9 months

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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 🥹🖤

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pedropascallme · 1 year

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Masterlists ♫꒰･‿･๑꒱

Characters I write for + Dos and don’ts

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

Cillian Murphy Masterlist

Metalocalypse Masterlist

Star Wars Masterlist

Smosh Boys Masterlist

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ghostofskywalker · 6 months

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Away From Prying Eyes

Cassian Andor/Reader

Fictober Day 14 of 31

Words: 902

Summary: Everyone thought that you and Cassian couldn't stand each other. In reality, that couldn't be further from the truth.

Cassian Andor Masterlist

You looked down at the assignment on your datapad, eyes widening when you took in one particular name. Groaning, you got up from where you were sitting and stalked through the halls of the base, a scowl beginning to form on your face. Mon Mothma was usually around, but it seemed this time she was nowhere to be found, and no one else seemed to know where she was.

After finally giving up trying to run into her anywhere in the base, you went back to your quarters and typed out a message, hitting send the moment you were done.

Need to talk to you about upcoming mission ASAP. Reassignment necessary.

Barely seconds after you had put the datapad down, it beeped to signify that you had a new message, a response to the one you just sent.

I know why you’re asking this, and the answer is no. You know I wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t the only option left.

You groaned. Usually you were always able to skirt around working assignments with one particular person in the Rebellion, but it looks like this was the first time you wouldn’t be able to shift things around.

In the eyes of the rest of the people on this base, you and Cassian Andor did not get along. You saw him as rude and abrasive, he saw you as confrontational and aggressive, and the two of you simply hated each other. Mon Mothma was probably expecting that message from one (or both) of you when she sent out the list of new reconnaissance assignments and listed the two of you on the same one.

When Cassian entered the dining area, you would get up and leave, no matter if you had finished eating or not. If you had to attend the same meetings, you sat at the farthest points of the table, and you never addressed him personally. People had always asked why you and Cassian didn’t get along, and you always just shrugged, saying that you never had, and there was no use extending an olive branch to someone who obviously didn’t care enough to be cordial.

But what no one else on this base knew was not a word of that was true, and it never had been.

It started out as a joke, when someone had said something about Cassian and you responded with a sarcastic comment. Somehow, word spread across the base about your supposed hatred, and it became part of the collective conscious that you and him didn’t get along. In truth, the two of you were actually friends.

He thought it was funny, and the two of you decided to keep up the ruse.

But soon your friend became your lover, and it certainly was not lost on you that you felt a little bit odd giving him fake glares in the halls and exclusively referring to him by his last name in meetings.

However, it provided an extra level of protection against the Rebellion’s raging gossip mill (you would think that people wouldn’t care about interpersonal drama like this in the current galactic climate, but you were very much wrong about that), so you continued to play along, feeding into the belief that you and him did not get along.

The door to your quarters opened, and you could soon hear the telltale footsteps of your boyfriend.

He leaned down to place a soft kiss to your cheek as he passed by, the scruff of his beard tickling your face slightly as you leaned into the gentle touch. “Did you see the message from Mon Mothma?” you asked, turning to face him.

“I did,” was the response, and a smile crossed his face. “I assume you’ve already tried to get that switched around.”

“Yeah, I have,” you said. “What about you?”

“I’ll probably track her down tomorrow,” he said. “Say something about how there’s no possible way I can work with you and see what she says.”

“According to her message, this seems like something we can’t get out of.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I think with the Empire ramping up their atrocities and we’re going to get a lot busier over the next few months.”

Cassian nodded, and then walked back over to you, gently running his hands over your shoulder. When his fingertips traced your bare skin, you shivered slightly. “That’s why you should take a nap with me right now.”

It was a tempting offer, and one you really shouldn’t have accepted, but you did. The time you spent with Cassian in your quarters (or his, depending on the day) was never anything short of perfect, and you always looked forward to the little moments where you got to shed the pretenses and indulge in the feeling of joy and flood of love that your boyfriend brought forth from your heart.

As you laid there in the bed together (thankfully the Rebellion had a standard bed size that could more than accommodate the two of you), you couldn’t help but marvel at the way you had managed to trick the entire base.

Of course, that could all come crashing down at any minute if someone with a high security clearance walked into your room, but you didn’t really care.

No matter what happened, you would have Cassian by your side, and that was worth every morsel of trouble it could possibly bring your way.

- the end -

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biggestsimponhere · 10 months

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“Would it be a sin? If i can’t help falling in love with you?”

Diego Luna is actually the love of my life fr

#star wars #rogue one #cassian andor #diego luna #javier suarez #cassian andor x you #cassian andor x reader #cassian andor x y/n #dirty dancing: havanna nights #andor show #andor series #sw andor #star wars men

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imagineyourworld · 2 years

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As Long as the Stars Allow

Cassian Andor x Duchess!Reader Warnings: Talk of death, canon typical violence, sexism, smut (including oral, PiV, and slight choking and orgasm denial, thigh riding), possessiveness (from both Cassian and reader) Summary: I honestly don’t have a summary... It’s kind of an enemies to lovers, friends with benefits, fake bodyguard, soulmates story.

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Nothing could ever shake your unwavering loyalty to the Rebellion, or at least that’s what you thought before you met him. Cassian Andor. Infamous rebel spy, ladies man, fighter to his core, and the one person in the Rebellion you hated almost as much as the Empire itself. For quite some time now you have wondered how it was possible for you to get along with every single other rebel, and then you met Cassian and all that went out the window. It wasn’t exactly hate at first sight, in fact the first conversation the two of you had had been good. He was reserved and held back, didn’t tell you anything about his past of his motivation to join the Rebel Alliance, but he was polite, nice, almost flirty. Well, the next time you saw him all that had changed. Cassian had single-handedly managed to make you question whether taking down the Empire was really worth spending time with him. Until said Empire committed another atrocity that is and you realised that as annoying as Cassian might be, it was worth it. For you, your loved ones, your people, and the entire galaxy. “Your Grace, Bail Organa requests your presence in his office,” the voice of your trusted lady drew your attention away from your brooding thoughts. You turned away from the window, the millions of stars outside it, and nodded your thanks to her. You had expected to be called into someone’s office sooner rather than later, after all you had already spent more time on the starship than you liked. Every second you spent with the rebels, even worse on one of their ships, was a risk. You could gather intel at meetings, read classified reports from the Empire only community leaders had access to, help the Rebellion in many little ways, but actually being with them for an extended period of time might draw the wrong kind of attention and blow your cover of neutrality. Your lady following behind you, you made your way to Bail’s office, the doors of which opened the second you halted in front of them. “Please wait here for me, Mira.” With a small curtsy your lady told you that she understood and you entered the office, the doors closing behind you again. Bail Organa stood with his back to you, another human male next to him, and an all too familiar Togruta facing both of them and thereby you. “Y/n, I’m glad you could join us,” Ahsoka said with a smile on her face. You returned the gesture, focusing all your attention on her so as not to stare daggers at the other man in the room, who out of the corner of your eye you had by now recognised as none other than Cassian Andor. “The pleasure is all mine. I didn’t know you’d be here,” you told her as you walked across the office to give her a hug. Despite a ten year age difference you counted Ahsoka to your closest friends, one of the few other women in the Rebellion and someone who had been through more than you could ever imagine. “You’re more beautiful every time I see you,” Ahsoka told you, looking you over. You knew you looked your best today, your white dress flattering your body shape and your hair styled in the newest fashion with a flower native to your planet braided into it. “Doesn’t she?” The last words were directed at the two men in the office, forcing you to stand beside Ahsoka and look at them. “Beautiful like a midnight flower, your Grace,” Bail said with a smooth kiss to your hand. Cassian, on the other hand, didn’t even acknowledge you. Instead he kept his gaze focused on the holopad on the desk. “Enough with the pleasantries now. Please, let’s get to business. What is so important that we had to meet here?” Finally, Cassian looked up, his dark eyes meeting yours in a cold stare. “Why? Did your Grace have somewhere more important to be?” Out of his mouth the honorific sounded like an insult. It was only due to years of education and dealing with condescending politicians that you managed to ignore him and instead focus on the two people in the room you actually liked. “I know what you risk by meeting us here, Y/n, but there was nowhere else we deemed safe,” Ahsoka said. “What we’re about to tell you could change everything.” Her words made you look at the datapad, which displayed a map and a long list of names next to it. It took you a moment to recognise some of them. Bail was on that list, as was his wife Queen Breha and even their daughter, though only just a teenager. Ahsoka, deemed dead by the Empire, wasn’t on it, but you spotted a few other familiar names, friends, other rebels you had only spoken to briefly. Cassian. You looked up from the list and met his eyes. He knew he was on the list, of course he did, maybe that was the reason he was here now, and though you should have expected him to be on the list, especially with what little you know of his past, it somehow shocked you that the Empire was really after him, that one day he might not return from a mission. “Cassian here managed to secure this list a couple of weeks ago. It’s names and last known locations of people the Empire knows or thinks might be a danger to it. Spies, rebels, gang members, everyone who for some reason or other isn’t happy with the Empire.” You looked at Bail as he talked, an unspoken question in your eyes. He shook his head. “You’re not on that list. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t others on which you might be.” You nodded. It had always been a risk to work for the Rebellion, you knew that one day the Empire might find out and you would have to face the consequences. “What’s the plan? Do you want me to hide those people on Kamaanti?” It was somewhat of a rhetorical question, you knew, and everyone else in the room did as well, that you might have been able to hide a few people on your small planet but not an entire list of enemies to the Empire, at least not without getting yourself on that list as well, and getting people killed in the process. “You’re invited to the Empire’s annual masquerade ball, right?” Another rhetorical question. As Duchess of Kamaanti you were invited every year, forced to dance with Imperials, listen to their ideas and how they thought they were the greatest beings to ever walk the galaxy, and in an admittedly clever way kept away from any known rebel sympathisers at the event. “I am.” Bail nodded. You remember, years ago, when he and his family had been invited to the ball as well. That’s where you first met, where you found out that Bail, in his days as a republic senator, had been quite close with your own parents before their untimely death, where he had begun to give you hints of a group of people who weren’t exactly on board with the Empire. The last couple of years the Organas were still invited, as the royal family of Alderaan they had to be, though be it on paper only. Everyone knew that they weren’t exactly welcome, other than you they had never kept their political opinions exactly quiet. “And it is still held in the Great Imperial Ballroom on Coruscant?” You confirmed. “And do you know what lies beneath the ballroom?” You turned away from Bail to look at Ahsoka, who had spoken for the first time in a while. “I don’t,” you admitted after a moment of silence. “But you do, don’t you? You were raised on Coruscant.” Just like with Cassian, you knew only a little about Ahsoka’s past. You knew that she, like Bail, had known your parents before their death, that she was raised on Coruscant, that she kept many secrets she wouldn’t even tell you. “What is now known as the Great Imperial Ballroom wasn’t always a ballroom. It used to be a training facility, which is quite useful since both a ballroom and a training room require soft flooring, big spaces, speakers for music. What are now the guest suites used to be dormitories, and underneath the ballroom, where there used to be storage, are now secret offices. Offices where the Empire does things they don’t exactly want the public to know.” You nodded along with her words. Things they don’t exactly want the public to know, such as writing up lists of enemies of the Empire, basically kill lists. “And you want me to, what, sneak into the basement and delete the list?” It wasn’t exactly madness, but almost equally as insane. Sure, you had an invitation to enter the building, a suite reserved for you just a few floors up, but you had no experience with breaking and entering whatsoever. You were an informant, you could help out with sensitive information, hide a few people if necessary, donate a star ship every once in a while, but you couldn’t break into a top secret office, at least not without... help. Your eyes flitted over to Cassian. That’s why he was here. You were the way in, he was the one to actually do the job. “Delete the list, see if there are any others, and if so delete them as well,” Bail confirmed your earlier question. You nodded along, barely registering his words. Why Cassian? There were dozens of others who could to the job, people you didn’t hate, who didn’t hate you. Why did it have to be him? “I’m sure you’re wondering what Cassian has to do with all of this,” Bail continued after a moment of silence. You scoffed. You liked Bail, you really did, but sometimes he, like most other men, underestimated you simply because of your pretty face and your fancy clothes. “I know exactly why he’s here. I’m the looks, he’s the brain.” Now it was Cassian’s turn to scoff. He glared at you with fire in his eyes. “I wouldn’t exactly say that you’re the looks. More like I’m the brain and the looks and you’re just our way in.” Charming, you thought, rolling your eyes at him. “Have you really thought this through, Bail?” Ahsoka asked, mirroring your thoughts exactly. Bail shrugged. “It’s an important mission and we need our best people on it. I’m sure they can cease acting like children for at least a little while.” Somehow his words struck you. You really were acting like children, weren’t you? Bail was right, this was an important mission and you couldn’t risk it by arguing with Cassian every time he opened his mouth or even just breathed in your direction. With an audible sigh you reached your hand across the desk, offering it to the spy. “Truce?” After a moment of heavy silence, and raised eyebrows from both Ahsoka and Bail, Cassian returned the gesture, enclosing your hand in his. The warmth of it, even in the slightly cold office, took you by surprise, as did the calluses against your soft skin. And yet his hand somehow fit in yours, not quite like a puzzle piece but it didn’t repulse you as much as you had anticipated. You squeezed his hand once, giving him your most dazzling smile, before letting go and turning back to Bail. “So, what’s the cover story? How am I going to get Cassian past security?”

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You were scared. It was a week later, you were on your way to the masquerade ball, and you were scared as fuck. This, though undeniably for a good cause, wasn’t what you had signed up for when you agreed to work with the Rebellion. This was espionage, you were used to sitting behind a desk, typing up neat reports to send to the Rebellion via paper, something that left little to no digital evidence the Empire could trace back to you. “You’re nervous,” It wasn’t a question, Cassian, sitting beside you in the traditional clothes of your personal guard, was simply stating a fact. And yet you couldn’t admit it, not to him. “I’m not.” You glanced over to your driver, the same woman who piloted your starship whenever you needed to leave the planet, who flew you from useless appointment to useless appointment. You trusted her, at least on the basic level you trusted most, if not all, of your employèes, but you couldn’t risk her overhearing anything. “You’re quite observant,” you told Cassian in your most regal voice, the one reserved for strangers and people you didn’t like. Or at least people other than Cassian you didn’t like, he somehow brought out a version of yourself you rarely showed, one that at the same time made you feel unlike yourself and more yourself than you were at any other time. Maybe he just agitated you so much that you lost all sense of self. “I’m your guard, it’s my job,” Cassian replied, the hint of warmth his voice had held earlier gone, replaced by the same professionalism you tried your best to conjure up. You silently cursed Bail for the idea to have Cassian pose as your guard. Admittedly, it clever since it would explain why the two of you would stick together the entire evening, and it was one of only two ways of getting Cassian inside the building. The other being having him pretend to be your date, your boyfriend or even fiancè, which everyone agreed wouldn’t be believable and likely end in injury or death for one or both of you. Moments of silence, in which every single way this mission could go wrong, crossed your mind, until finally the shining lights of the ballroom came into sight. “We’ve arrived, ma’am,” your driver announced. From the way Cassian almost choked beside you, you could tell that he was trying his best to hold back a scoff. A small smile found its way to your lips, it was quite fun seeing Cassian having to deal with all of this. You were raised from birth to one day inherit your mother’s title of Duchess of Kamaanti, to understand, and even appreciate, the protocol that came with the role, the responsibility. But all of this was new to Cassian, and for the first time in quite some time, the first time since he let it slip how he came to leave Kenari, you felt for him. “Let’s go, Cassian,” you said in a soft voice, hoping neither he nor your driver would misinterpret it as anything more than it was, a friendly way to encourage Cassian to get out there and face whatever the evening had to offer. You could hear him take a deep breath before he exited the ship and opened the door for you, allowing you to face the flashing lights and people lined up to watch the guests enter the ballroom. Cassian followed just a few steps behind you as you made your way up the stairs to the main entrance. “There are more witnesses than expected,” he whispered into your ear just as you reached the top step, the one spot where you were unlikely to be overheard by either guards or spectators. His warm breath his your ear and for a moment it made you forget just how cold you were in your beautiful, but quite thin, dress in the Coruscant night air. “That’s just outside, inside there’ll be way less people.” You continued to walk up to the Imperial officer in charge of greeting the guests, one you knew you had met at a previous event but couldn’t for the life of you remember the name of. “Your Grace,” he greeted you with a stiff bow, his expression telling you just how much he despised showing his respect to a woman, especially one so much younger than himself. “Lieutenant, “ you return, guessing his rank based on the medals gleaming on his chest. Cassian stood behind you, no doubt noticing every detail about the grand entrance hall and the man in front of you, taking note of every exit, surveillance camera, and blaster in the area. “And who is that with you?” Despite your best efforts the lieutenant’s question threw you off guard. You weren’t used to having your actions or the people in your company questioned, at least not openly though of course you knew that people talked behind closed doors, not even at an Imperial event. “This is my personal guard. I was assured that you were told he was accompanying me.” Cassian stepped ever so slightly closer to you, something you could only tell by the heat radiating off his body intensifying against your back. You had a feeling that if you played close enough attention you could be able to feel his breath hitting the back of your neck where your hair was pulled up. “You didn’t bring a guard with you last year, or the year before that.” It wasn’t a question but you nodded nonetheless, trying to hide the unease that you felt at realising that among hundreds, if not thousands, of guests the Empire paid close enough attention to you for even the lieutenant to notice a change in your company. “Due to the political climate my head of security thought it wise to have some extra protection.” You didn’t mention the Rebellion, didn’t say that this ball would be a perfect target and it would only make sense for someone as high ranking as yourself to have personal protection. You didn’t need to, the officer, if he knew what was good for him, would let you pass, opting to admit that the situation with the rebels was getting dangerous rather than risking angering you. “Of course, your Grace. An extra room in your suite for your guard has been prepared prior to your arrival.” You nodded, playing the part of snob nobility and not granting him a real answer, as you rushed past him, your skirt flowing behind you as you made your way to where you knew the lifts to be located. “Room 4215,” the lieutenant called after you. Only as the lift doors closed behind you did you dare to let out the breath you’ve been holding. All of this, lying, deceiving, pretending to be someone you were not, wasn’t your area of expertise, and for the first time you really came to admire Cassian for managing it all so effortlessly. “Well, that didn’t go as well as I expected,” you started but before you could say anything else Cassian coughed once, then twice. Your agreed upon singal to tell the other that you were being watched. You turned to face Cassian, who was standing behind you in the corner, trying to get a good look of your surroundings in the process. And there, in the top right corner, was a small camera, almost invisible to the untrained eye. Cassian looked at you as you pretended not to notice the camera, to not let the Empire know that you were well aware that you were being watched. Though this was you in your natural environment, embodying your role as duchess of Kamaanti, you were as tense as he had ever seen you. Granted, he hadn’t spent all that much time with you, but the few times you did see each other you always looked more relaxed. Thinking of the easy smile, comparing your clenched shoulders to your usual posture, brought back memories of your first meeting, and the time directly after it. It was hot, hotter even than the usual scorching temperatures of Jakku, and Cassian longed to get back to the slightly cooler Yavin, or even just a shower to wash off all the sand and dirt clinging to his sweaty skin. He was here to meet an important informant, one he had been told couldn’t risk meeting anywhere other than the middle of nowhere. Wiping sweat from his brow Cassian first thought that the girl he was seeing, probably a few years younger than he himself, must have been a hallucination. There was no way a girl like that, with glowing skin, shining hair, and a radiant smile. “Stars above, it’s a long way from home,” you said as you jumped off your speeder. Those were the words, the signal, that told Cassian you really were the one had was supposed to meet. “Not as long as a desert day,” he replied, telling you that he was the rebel you were told would be waiting for you. You walked closer to where Cassian was sitting in the shade of a giant rock, just as he jumped up to meet you. Up close you were even prettier, despite the sand clinging to your hair and your lips chapped from the dry air, you were a vision. Cassian wasn’t usually one to be at a loss for words when talking to a pretty woman but there was something about you. “I’m Y/n,” you introduced yourself. He repeated your name, trying to get used to the unfamiliar sound. It sounded pretty, sophisticated, like the name out of a fairytale. “Cassian.” You sat down in the shade, pulling a water bottle from your backpack and talking a sip before offering it to Cassian. “What’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?” He chuckled, a sound that had almost become unfamiliar to his own ears. Laughter was hard to come by in the Rebellion but somehow, sitting on this hot as hell planet with you, it came easy to him. “I could ask you the same thing, you don’t look like a rebel. Far too pretty,” he was quick to add before you could say anything. You laughed, a sound he longed for more than a cold shower. How he could feel like this only minutes after meeting you, knowing nothing about you but your name, he didn’t know. Cassian wasn’t a stranger to women, he had a healthy sex life, knew how to make females (and the occasional males) swoon over him, but never had he been so captivated by someone as he was by you. “I’m not exactly a rebel, just an informant.” You pulled a stack of papers out of your backpack and handed them to him. Cassian flipped through them, finding names, locations, reports, and an envelope filled with credits among them. You pocketed your water bottle again before getting up and brushing the sand off your trousers. “Feel free to buy yourself something pretty, Cassian. We all deserve beauty amidst this darkness.” You made your way back to your speeder, leaving a stunned Cassian behind. “And if you’re ever on Kamaanti, feel free to drop by.” And with those words you were off, leaving Cassian to wonder who exactly you were. He didn’t have to wonder long though, once he returned to base Mon Mothma answered the pressing question on his mind. You weren’t just an informant, you were a duchess, nobility, someone who had the power and the money to change the course of the war and yet sat comfortably in your palace, tossing the Rebellion a bone every now and then, probably just to ease your conscience. Cassian didn’t usually blame people for not joining the Rebellion, everyone had their reasons to fight or to lay low, but if someone held the power you did, and yet did little to nothing, he couldn’t help the burning anger. Never mind that you were pretty or funny, inside you were little better than the Empire you didn’t stand up to in favour of your own comfort.

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You exited the refresher wearing your ball gown, your hair and makeup done by the stylists who have left just a couple of minutes ago and your handbag, shoes, and mask waiting for you to complete the look. Cassian, dressed in a smart suit rather than the uniform he had been wearing earlier, sat in the armchair next to your bed, staring at the datapad in his hand. “Careful, I heard they bite when you glare at them like that,” you tried to joke to lighten the mood. His tense shoulders didn’t relax, if anything they clenched up even more as his eyes lifted and he looked you up and down. “How do I look?” The superficial part of you couldn’t resist the question. You knew you looked good, and you knew that if Cassian even tried to deny it he would be lying. But Cassian didn’t deny it, instead he looked you up and down, a sudden heat in his eyes you had never seen there before. You cast a quick glance to the mirror on the other side of the room. Your skin hadn’t magically turned green, not a hair was out of place. The dark blue dress hugged your upper body, hiding all your insecurities in the process, before flowing out in a long silky skirt with a slit up one leg just long enough to be sexy but not too long as to be indecent for the ball. “What’s the matter, loth cat got your tongue?,” you joked as you slipped your shoes on. You bent down to fasten the ties but before you could Cassian’s voice finally sounded through the room. “Let me.” In one smooth motion he got out of his chair and slid onto the floor in front of you, his warm hand gently holding your ankle while the other busied itself with the fastening. You couldn’t deny that Cassian looked good in his suit, just like your dress it brought out his best features, though you did think it was a shame that he had gelled his hair back, suddenly realising just how much you had grown to like the casual hairstyle he usually had. But there was something about him kneeling in front of you, wearing this suit, that had heat racing up your leg from where he touched you right to your core. A tingling sensation all too familiar, yet one you had never experience with Cassian Andor of all people. “Is everything alright?,” Cassian aksed, his voice slightly rough, his accent more pronounced, though you blamed it on him concentrating on securing the overly complicated clips and bows around your ankles. “Fine,” you choked out, a second too late realising that he had been talking about the upcoming evening, the mission, rather than the fact that having him on his knees in front of you did unmentionable things to you. Finally, he let go of your leg and got up, though he was now standing a bit too close for comfort, his face only centimeters from your own. “What do you do if we’re being watched?” You rolled your eyes. Same old Cassian was back, always testing you, believing you to be incompetent. “Cough twice.” He nodded, his dark eyes never leaving yours. “And what do you do while I extract the files?” You crossed your arms in front of your chest, managing to put a bit more distance between the two of you in the process. “Stand guard outside the door.” He nodded again. “And-” You uncrossed your arms again, scoffing as you grabbed the mask from the bed and slipped it over the upper half of your face before tying a bow behind your head to fasten it. “And if someone comes I’ll pretend to be drunk and that I couldn’t find my way back to my room. I know, Andor. I might not be an infamous spy like yourself but I’m not an idiot either.” You tried your best not to frown, not wanting to smudge your makeup, and instead settled for glaring at him. Cassian sighed, putting on his own mask. “I never said you were an idiot, but you spend all your time worrying about where to find money for more of those pretty dresses you always wear.” Now that made you see red. Was that what Cassian really thought of you? After everything you did for the Rebellion, everything you sacrificed, did people, did he really believe that all you worried about were your looks? “Listen here you arrogant bantha shit,” you hissed between your teeth, walking over to Cassian until you were chest to chest, your voice dangerously low. “I worry about money, alright, and yes, sometimes I use that money to buy ‘pretty dresses’ but that’s because it’s what’s expected of me as a duchess. You know why I also worry about money? Because I need that money to pay my employèes so they can feed their families, I need that money to fund schools and universities, to give to those who need it, to buy weapons and supplies for your precious rebellion.” You took a deep breath before continuing, glad that you had managed to stun Andor into silence. “I don’t give a fuck what you think of me, whether you like me or despise me as you so clearly do, but don’t for one second think that I only think about myself. I may not be a rebel in the same way you are but make no mistake, I’m no Imperial either.” You took a step back, refusing to look at Cassian again as you grabbed your small handbag and looked in the mirror one last time before exiting the room, your head held high and expecting Cassian to follow you like the duchess you were. The ride down to the ballroom was awkward, filled with an unknown silence and tension, neither of you daring to say anything. But as soon as your arrival was announced and you entered the ballroom all that disappeared and you were in your element. This, even if you hated every single person in the room, was what you were born and raised to do. You may not exactly enjoy it, but you knew what to expect. You knew what people would ask and how they would answer your questions before they even opened their mouths. It wasn’t like it was with Cassian, who never said what you expected him to and would probably rather eat his own shoe than listen to you. Here, with those sharks and piranhas, you could prove your worth to the Rebellion. “Your Grace, you look stunning,” a young Imperial you didn’t recognise greeted you. He lifted your hand up to place a kiss on the back of it. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure,” you said, at the same time indirectly asking for his name and trying to remind him just how unprofessional it was to just approach a duchess, even as a high ranking officer, without being introduced by a mutual acquaintance. “Captain Flak Romeis, pleasure to make your acquaintance.” His blond hair gleamed under the light as he looked you up and down in what you were sure he thought to be an inconspicuous way. “The pleasure is all mine, captain,” you purred, knowing full well that Cassian, who was standing only a step behind you, held the same title as the slimy Imperial in front of you. “Duchess, it would be a great honour if you granted me a dance.” His overly formal words in combination with the way he still looked at you send icy shivers down your spine, a stark contrast to the heat Cassian had ignited in you just hours before. Speak of the devil, before you could reply to Flak’s request, Cassian’s hand closed around your wrist, tugging ever so slightly in a manner that was no less unprofessional than the Imperial’s behaviour. You turned around to face him for the first time since your argument, his hand still holding your wrist in a firm grasp. “I don’t think it would be wise to dance with him, your Grace,” he whispered just loud enough for you to hear, to smell his minty breath and close your eyes to regain your composure. “And why is that? Surely he doesn’t pose a threat to my safety.” You blinked up at Cassian, urging him to play the guard, not to blow your cover over a simple dance and some nasty looks. “Just one dance,” you said, lowering your voice. “And then we can do what we came here for.” You pulled your hand out of his grasp, placing it on the Imperial’s arm so he could lead you to the dancefloor. “I hope I didn’t just pull you away from your husband,” he said as you got into position, placing one of your hands in his and the other on his shoulder while his other hand founds its place on your waist. “Husband?” You couldn’t help but laugh. Both of you were piss poor actors if people believed that Cassian was your husband. “He’s my personal guard. A bit overprotective maybe, it’s the first big event he’s accompanied me to.” The music began to play and the Imperial took the first steps, leading you into the dance as Cassian watched from the side. Maybe the playing pretend finally got to him because he felt a wave of protectiveness rise up as he watched Flak’s hand drift lower just a hint, as he pulled you closer, as he made you laugh. Cassian knew that you were playing a part just as he was, that there was no way you were charmed by an Imperial, especially one as slimy as Captain Flak Romeis. Though you didn’t believe it to be true, as your little speech earlier had shown, Cassian did think highly of you, or at least of your dedication to the Rebellion. He knew what you were risking, that if you were caught it wouldn’t end well for you, that the Empire would make an example out of the unfaithful duchess. Still watching you float across the dancefloor, Cassian noticed another guard, an actual personal guard, approach him out of the corner of his eye. “You’re fucking her, aren’t you?” The question, and the way in which it was asked, managed something only few people ever managed, it made him lose his focus. Cassian turned to face the other guard, a Twi’lek, dressed in a suit so much like his own. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell,” he continued. “I’m hooking up with my charge as well, though she’s nowhere near as good looking as yours. She really is something else. Is there any chance you’re willing to share?” Though Cassian was no stranger to hooking up with women, sometimes women he had only seen as briefly as the guard had seen you, he did believe that everyone was owed respect, regardless of gender or looks, and you especially. Yes, Cassian himself had difficulties tearing his eyes away from you in that dress, and a fantasy of ripping it off you had crossed his mind, but hearing someone else talk about you like that made him forget your argument earlier, replaced any anger he had towards you with angers towards the guard. “You either leave right now and never look at her again or I’ll find you on whatever backwater planet you live on and break your jaw so you won’t ever talk about her like that again, understood?” The guard didn’t even have a chance to reply before you suddenly appeared in front of Cassian, and as he looked to his side the Twi’lek was gone. A few strands of your hair had fallen out of place and Cassian’s fingers twitched to push them behind your ear. “May I have another dance before the night is over?,” the Imperial captain asked, calling Cassian’s attention to the fact that he was standing right there beside you. Like a bucket of ice water it reminded him of why he had to stay away from you, you were a distraction. A beautiful distraction, but a distraction nonetheless. “We’ll see, Captain Romeis, I tend to retire quite early.” The statement was a polite a ‘no’ as you could manage and luckily succeeded in driving him away, leaving you and Cassian alone. “Are you ready to go exploring, your Grace?”

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The hallway you were walking through was freezing cold, a stark contrast to the stale air in the ballroom, and something that made you appreciate Cassian’s body heat next to you a tiny bit more. “I was sure your heels would give us way but now I’m beginning to think it’s your clattering teeth,” Cassian whispered under his breath. You were about to throw him an annoyed comment about how you dressed for a hot ballroom filled with hundreds of people, not an abandoned hallway that even a droid would catch a cold in, when you felt a sudden warmth around your upper body. You had been too distracted with trying to come up with a witty comment to notice that Cassian, in an act that was as unlike him as dressing up in bright pink would be, had placed his suit jacket around your shoulders. “I-,” you started before abruptly shutting your mouth. Cassian had just done a nice thing for you, now wasn’t the time for sarcasm. “Thank you.” A small grunt was all the reply Cassian gave you. You rolled your eyes at his hot-and-cold behaviour, an act that, as childish as it was, saved your asses. You coughed once. Twice. Cassian looked at you out of the corner of his eye, trying to follow your line of sight without being too obvious. You saw the recognition in his eyes as he spotted the security camera in the corner. “It’s an IB24, it doesn’t record sound,” he told you, his monotone voice didn’t give you any comfort, but it didn’t give you reason to panic further either. “Doesn’t mean it’s safe to talk, does it? Whoever watches the footage could still read our lips.” You put your hands in the pockets of Cassian’s jacket, trying to busy yourself so you wouldn’t begin to freak as another thought settled in your head. “They don’t just see two people who aren’t supposed to be here. Cassian, they’ll recognise us, recognise me.” Your partner scoffed as he reached for the blaster previously hidden by his jacket and shot straight at the camera. “Listen to you, all concerned about your own kriffing wellbeing.” You didn’t waste your breath explaining to him that you, being a duchess and not a spy who made a living by staying hidden, were simply more recognisable. “You’re one to talk, the great spy who doesn’t even see a security camera.” Cassian, who had already taken a few steps towards the camera to knock it down and destroy the chip inside, turned around and came to stand right in front of you within a few quick strides. “Listen, mi duquesita, you cannot fuck with me right now. I need to concentrate if this mission is to be successful, and you’re making that damn difficult.” Though his voice was low, his breath hitting your lips, and his entire being surrounded you in a way that could go south within seconds, you weren’t intimidated. “Trust me, the last thing I want to do is fuck with you. Or fuck you, for that matter.” Cassian leaned impossibly closer, one hand reaching up to cup your chin and lift your head so you couldn’t look away from his dark eyes with a dangerous fire burning within. “Are you sure about that?” The sheer arrogance in his tone brought you to your senses. How dare he? Who did he think he was, who you were? Did he expect you to fawn over him just because he treated you like an equal for a couple of minutes? You took a step back, letting Cassian’s hand fall from your chin, breaking the strange hold he had on you even further. “Let’s just get this over with so we can go upstairs and I go to sleep and dream of being far away from you. With a chuckle so soft you were sure you must have been imagining it, Cassian finally removed the chip from the camera, stuffing it in the pocket of his trousers before tossing you the broken camera. “Hold on to that, will you? Can’t leave any more evidence of our visit than absolutely necessary.” And the rest of your mission really did feel like a visit, like a walk in the park. You found the correct door, Cassian broke in, leaving you standing guard outside, and within a few moments he was back out again, a small smile on his face. “All done, mi duquesita.” There was that nickname again. You wouldn’t grant him the satisfaction of admitting that you didn’t know what it meant, by asking for a translation. You spoke three living and two dead languages fluently, so what if you didn’t speak Cassian’s damned language (both metaphorically and in the actual sense)? “Let’s get out of here.” You began to walk back the way you had come, glad that for once everything seemed to be going quite well, when you turned around, noticing that Cassian wasn’t following you. “You coming?” With a shake of his head he hurried to catch up to you. “Are you in such a hurry because you can’t wait to dance with Captain whatshisname again?” There was an unfamiliar venom in his voice, one you could have sworn was unlike anything Cassian had ever directed towards you. The chance to annoy him further was right there and the words were at the tip of your tongue, but you decided to tell the truth. Partly because Cassian had been a good partner today and you didn’t want to anger him the one time the two of you got along, but mostly because you were simply too exhausted to tell another lie. “I’ll be glad if I never have to see that guy again,” you admitted, pulling his jacket closer around your body as you tried to stifle a yawn. “I was telling the truth when I said that I just want to sleep.” From the corner of his eye Cassian looked you up and down before nodding. “Then let’s take you to bed, your Grace.” You managed a nod, despite the fact that from his mouth the formal words sounded more like dirty talk than anything else. The doors to the lift, which you had reached some time during your conversation, opened and you sank against the wall with a relieved sigh. “I can’t wait to take these kriffing shoes off,” you muttered. Cassian, from the other side of the lift, smirked at you, one eyebrow raised. “Foul mouth for a duchess.” If you only knew, you thought, and you were just about to say it as well, to try and test what it would take to make him lose his cool, what flirting with him would get you, when the doors unexpectedly opened. The second the gap between the two doors was wider than a centimeter, thereby allowing whoever was outside to actually look inside the lift, Cassian jumped away from the wall until he was face to face with you. “We have no idea who’s about to enter this lift,” he whispered. You nodded in response. “Correct.” “We’re on the ballroom floor, whoever it is knows we didn’t just get on, that we’ve come from downstairs.” Another nod. There was no need to interrupt him, not when Cassian was clearly trying to come up with a plan to get you out of this situation. “Do you trust me?,” he asked before quickly correcting himself. “Nevermind, I know that you don’t. But will you play along?” You barely had the chance to nod before Cassian placed his lips right beneath your ear, kissing you softly. The gasp you let out was anything but fake. It was a surprise reaction, and one of unexpected pleasure. His lips were soft, a welcome contrast to the rough hairs of his beard, and his hands, that had found their way to your waist, felt good, great even. As if on autopilot your own hands wandered up his back, settling in his hair, which you finally managed to rough up a bit, bringing it from its combed back style to the wild curls you were used to. “I do hope I’m not interrupting anything.” Your eyes flew open at the new voice, too distracted by Cassian’s lips on your hot skin to have noticed another person entering the lift. Shit, shit, shit, shit. Kriffing shit, ran through your mind. Once again you found yourself on autopilot as you pushed Cassian away from you, ignoring how much you missed his hands, his lips, on your body the second they were gone, as you looked at the other man. “Grand Moff Tarkin, I am so sorry.” You cursed yourself, this ball, the entire galaxy, that the person you had to be trapped in a lift with was Tarkin. You would have even preferred Darth Vader himself, at least he would have put you out of your misery instantly. “Duchess.” Tarkin was too professional to look you up and down in what you presumed to be a dishevelled state, or to really look at Cassian, which you should be thankful for. “I noticed you were arriving from the basement, care to explain why?” “I-,” Cassian began to explain, but for once he actually shut up when you shot him a pointed look. “We were heading back up to my suite, must have pushed the wrong button in a hurry,” you were quick to explain. The lie slipped off your tongue easier than expected, especially considering you were lying to one of the most powerful men in the Empire while standing next to a leading member of the Rebellion. “Yes, I can see that you are in quite a hurry.” Tarkin’s dry tone didn’t give you any hint as to whether he suspected that something was amiss. Cassian, despite his experience in situations like this, must have been feeling the same way, since his arm once again sneaked around your waist as he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. His hand sneaked lower, from your waist to your hip until it rested right on your ass, an act alone that made heat curl in your stomach, but when he gave it a soft squeeze you couldn’t help the small yelp. Well, as embarrassing as this was in front of Tarkin, at least now you had a better chance of actually selling your story. As you tried to think of a way to reciprocate Cassian’s action, and coming up short due to his hand still firmly placed on your ass, the lift dinged. Your breath caught in your throat, fearing that even more Imperials would get on, but luck seemed to be on your side as Tarkin, his eyes like ice, looked you straight into the eyes. “Goodnight, your Grace, sir.” He left without uttering another word and only once the doors closed behind him did you dare to take a deep breath. Though he visibly relaxed, Cassian’s hand never left your body. Instead he leaned closer to your, whispering into your ear in a voice that was nothing if not sinful. “Tell me to stop any time and I will.” Before you could ask what he was talking about he once again caught your chin between his fingers, turning and lifting your head until he crashed his lips against yours. If you had thought his kisses felt good against your neck, they were no comparison to having his lips on yours. They were warm, soft, and as your hands once again found their way to his hair and you gave it a single instinctatious tug, they opened for you, allowing you to let your tongue roam freely across his bottom lip and into his mouth, where his own tongue met yours with enthusiasm. You pressed your body closer to Cassian, needing to feel more, to feel every part of him against every part of you. At the same time his hand left your ass, moving all over your body, leaving trails of hire in its wake, until one hand found its place on your waist, pulling you even closer, and the other began to caress your neck, applying just a tiny hint of pressure. Your eyes, though firmly closed, rolled back in your head as your hips moved towards his, needing more, more, more. Suddenly the lift came to a stop, bringing you out of your haze and reminding you that you needed to breathe. As the doors slid opened Cassian slowly leaned away from you, though nothing more than a sheet of paper would have fit between your bodies even with the newfound distance. “Wanna finish what we started, pequeña?” He didn’t have to ask twice. The fact that the man in front of you was Cassian Andor, the person you hated almost as much as the Empire itself, who got on your nerves and never let an opportunity to show you just how inferior he thought you go by, never crossed your mind. Or at least not in the way that it should. Of course you knew that you had just made out with Cassian, but somehow it didn’t bother you as much as it should. Maybe it was because the entire day he had been decent, if not even friendly, towards you, or the fact that there have been heated looks and touches all day that had seemingly only lead to this, or that you were actually beginning to like him when his mouth was occupied with something other than frowning. “Lead the way, Captain.” The title simply rolled off your tongue, but as you saw the way Cassian’s shoulders tensed as he exited the lift before you, you noted to use it more often. As soon as the door to your suite closed behind you, Cassian turned you around, pressing you to the closed door, as his lips found yours again. The kiss was less heated than that in the lift, more sensual, slower, allowing you to notice all the small details. How soft Cassian’s hair was between your fingers, the scar along the back of his head, the sharp sting as his teeth sank into your bottom lip only for it to be soothed by his tongue. And his hands. Oh, his hands would surely be the death of you. They roamed all along your body, caressing and squeezing, pushing his jacket, that you still had wrapped around you, to the ground, giving him better access to your neck. You couldn’t help the moan that escaped you as he kissed from your jaw down your neck all the way to the beginning of your dress. He leaned back a bit, making your hands fall from his hair, as he just looked at you. Though a moment before you had been sure that Cassian wanted you as much as you wanted him, doubt suddenly began to creep up. “What is it?,” you whispered into the dark room, illuminated only by the city lights outside the window. Cassian shook his head, licked his lips, and shook his head again. “Nothing.” He stepped closer to you again, placing his hands on your waist, his thumbs slowly stroking your sides. “I just can’t decide whether I want to finally take this dress off of you or fuck you in it.” The contrast between his soft caresses, his low voice, and his filthy words, made you clench your thighs together. You were insatiable when it came to this man. “Why not do both?” You bit your bottom lip at the possibility, at the thought of simply feeling more of Cassian’s skin against yours. “Or can you only go one round?” Your bold words shocked you, and it wasn’t until you heard Cassian chuckle that you stopped wanting to take them back. From his earlier actions you had presumed that Cassian would prefer a more submissive partner in bed, and you were happy to take that role, but apparently your banter would have a place inside the bedroom as well as out of it. “You have no idea what I can do, mi duquesita.” His lips found your neck again, gently sucking on the vulnerable skin. “I don’t just plan on fucking you with my cock, I’ll make you come with my tongue first. I’ll have you begging for me.” You rolled your eyes, playfully this time, as you looked at him with a smirk. You had to admit that Cassian really knew how to build tension but you wouldn’t beg for anyone, anything. Instead of giving him an answer your hands reached out for his shirt, beginning to unbutton it to grant you access to his skin. Cassian, for once deciding that helping you would be in his best interest, loosened the tie he was wearing around his neck before pulling it over his head. Finally, you managed to rid him of the bothersome shirt, and get a good look at him. He was well-built, defined but not overly muscular. Scars littered his skin, some large, some small, as well as what seemed to be a rather new bruise. Though you knew that Cassian was in constant danger, that he had probably escaped death more than once, seeing it with your own eyes brought a sense of protectiveness over you you hadn’t experienced before. You lifted your hands to gently stroke across his shoulders, down his chest, lingering a little longer on each scar. You stepped closer as Cassian watched you carefully, taking note of every slight change of expression. “Cassian, I... you’re beautiful.” The words, maybe the truest words you had ever spoken, slipped past your lips. He really was beautiful. Not just because he was handsome, though of course he was, but because his scars told of his struggles, his dedication to the Rebellion, his willingness to risk his life for the good of the galaxy. With soft touches you stroked along every inch of his skin you could reach, hearing his breath stutter as you lips began to follow your fingers. His skin tasted different than his lips, saltier, earthier, but also truer, not altered by anything he ate or drank. You placed a soft kiss just above his heart, looking up at him from beneath your lashes. It was that simply action that broke the spell Cassian was under. He bent down until his lips met yours in another kiss, tongues battling for dominance, until he broke the kiss only to fall to his knees in the next instance. “What are you doi- oh, oh fuck, Cassian,” you exclaimed as it dawned on you. Cassian, on his knees and his eyes focused solely on his task, took your ankles and gently pushed them to the sides, allowing your legs and thighs to spread further. “I told you I’d make you come with my tongue,” he said with a smirk before lifting your skirt and diving underneath. You could barely see him, with most of his upper body hidden beneath your dress, which somehow made it even hotter, leaving you to anticipate his next action, his next touch. Gently he stroked up your legs, alternating between kissing each of your thighs, sometimes adding a little bite to the mix, until he reached your center. One hand placed firmly on your waist he took the finger of the other hand to stroke up and down your covered slit. “Shit, pequeña, you’re soaked.” His finger found your clothed clit and applied gentle pressure, which turned your insides into lava and made your knees buckle. You needed him. Cassian slipped his finger, still just the one finger, underneath your panties until it rested on your skin, right on your lips. He pressed a soft kiss to the skin just above your panties, not moving his finger. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” he reminded you, not giving you a chance to reply before he finally, fucking finally, slipped his finger inside you. The groan he let out at the contact was almost as loud as your own. He moved a bit, trying to get a feel of you, trying to resist to overwhelm you but overcome with desire to feel more of your tight, wet heat at the same time. ”I’ll buy you a new pair,” he said more to himself than to you, and before you could ask what he was talking about you heard the telltale sound of cloth being ripped apart. Cassian had just torn you underwear from your body. Slowly, ever so slowly, he moved his finger, and just as he entered your pussy his mouth came into contact with your clit, sucking once, twice, as his finger began to thrust into you. You had heard talk around the rebels that Cassian had game, that he wasn’t a stranger to taking other rebels to bed or even seducing informants to get what he needs, but you had never really believed any of it. Sure, maybe he had a one night stand every now and then, but so did most people in the Rebellion, you had been so sure that there was no way that Cassian Andor could be as good as the talk suggested. That was until he brought you to a mindblowing orgasm within an embarrassingly short time. “Ca- Cass- Fuck,” you stuttered pressing your thighs against his head, trying to draw him closer as waves of pleasure swept over you. Cassian hummed against your core, taking everything you would give him, still sucking your clit while his hands, though slowing down, massaged your tight walls. As the last of your orgasm ebbed away, Cassian finally crawled out from underneath your dress, and looked up at you still on his knees, wetness coating his mouth, making his beard seem darker than usual. “You ready for me to make you beg?” Despite how quickly he had managed to make you come, and the fact that seeing him like that made you wet all over again, you shook your head. “In your dreams, Andor.” He chuckled as he got up, leaning close to you as his mouth found the shell of your ear. “How did you know what I dream about?,” he whispered, his hand sneaking up your back until you suddenly felt a gush of cold air against your skin. Cassian had, in one smooth motion, pulled the zipper of your dress down. He looked at you, waited for your slight nod, before pulling at the fabric, making the dress fall off your body until it pooled around your ankles, leaving you in nothing but a bra and shoes. “Eres mas hermosa que la luz de las estrellas,” Cassian breathed against your lips. His hands found their way to your breasts, squeezing and massaging, and twisting your nipples just right. “Wait, Cassian, stop,” you gasped as he took one nipple in his mouth through the thin fabric of your bra, sucking in a way that made you see stars. What gave that man the right to be so kriffing good with his mouth? He immediately let go of you, putting some distance between your bodies, though his hand itched to touch you again, even if just to soothe any harm he might have caused. “What is it, pequeña? Did I do something wrong?” He had tried his best to be gentle, to take it slow, not to let his desire overcome him. This was a step in the right direction and he didn’t dare do anything to jeopardize it. You shook your head, your hand reaching out to take Cassian’s, who let out a relieved breath. “Nothing’s wrong. It’s just... Don’t you want me to... You know...,” you said, suddenly shier than Cassian had ever seen you as you motioned towards the obvious bulge in his trousers. Yes, his dick was aching for relief, but he knew that this might be his one chance with you and he wouldn’t blow it by making this all about him and his pleasure. He shook his head. “Not right now.” You raised an eyebrow, waited a moment, as if to get him to admit that yes, he did want you to get on your knees for him as he had done for you earlier. But he didn’t say anything. “Just lay on the bed and let me make you feel good, alright?” It was a question, nothing like the commands he usually spat out at you, and yet you followed more willingly than you had ever done before. Sex with Cassian wasn’t like you had imagined it, not that you had imagined it a lot, but when you heard talk around the rebels you couldn’t help but imagine at least a bit. Also whenever you looked at him before he opened his mouth to snap at you, or when you caught him looking at you like he was right now, as if he was seeing you for the first time. Not to mention the instant crush you had developed after actually meeting him for the first time, one that quickly burned out after your second meeting. You got on the bed, lying down still in your bra and shoes, as Cassian crawled over you, his naked chest meeting your clothed one. You didn’t wait to see what he would do, instead hungry for more, you leaned up, capturing his mouth with yours, returning to the heated kisses from earlier. He returned the kiss with just as much eagerness, licking into your mouth as his hands once again found their way to your breasts. Your own hands wandered across his back, relishing in the feeling of his skin, feeling every inch of softness, contrasted by rough scars. Despite his earlier insistence on wanting to focus on you, Cassian couldn’t help himself and began to move his hips, agonisingly slow, against yours, making your still sensitive clit rub against the fabric of his trousers. Your hands found their way to his ass, using the new leverage to push him further down, to give you more contact where you craved it most. “Cassian, I need you,” you breathed against his lips, trying your best to hold back the ‘please’ that sat on the tip of your tongue. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of begging. He nodded slightly, moving one of his hands from your breast to rub slow circles onto your clit. Your entire body felt like fire, like ice, you couldn’t focus on anything but Cassian’s hands on your body, his lips gracing your neck, his erection pressing painfully hard against your core. Your hands were forced to leave his ass as he sat up on his knees, quickly pulling his trousers and underwear off in one motion, before returning to his position above you, pressing hungry kisses to your lips. “Are you sure about this?” Instead of an answer you moved your hips up, giving Cassian delicious friction as his cock met your wet pussy for the first time. The moan he let out was sinful, pornographic, and you could have almost come from the sound alone. You reached down, feeling his erection in the palm of your hand, giving is a few good strokes before gently placing the tip right at your entrance. “Show me what you got, Captain,” you told him with a smirk. Cassian bottomed out in one swift stroke, not giving you the chance for another witty remark, instead making you moan as he filled you just right. It was a stretch, but not an uncomfortable one, as if he was meant to be right there. You began to move your hips, trying to get Cassian to move as well, to give you more, when he pushed you down with a heavy breath, making you halt your movements. “Shit, pequeña, give me a moment. I need- need to-,” he groaned as you ignored his request, moving your legs this time, wrapping them around his waist, pushing him impossibly deeper into your heat. Cassian looked at you with new fire in his eyes. “You wanna play dirty?” He didn’t give you a chance to respond before he pulled out, leaving only the tip inside of you, and slammed back in with newfound vigour. You didn’t have enough air in your lungs to moan, to even breathe, all you could do was think that you wanted more, needed more, that maybe he’d have you begging for him after all. He set a rough pace, slamming in and out of you again and again until you were finally able to adjust and move your hips in sync with his. Your hands wandered up to his head, pulling him down in a bruising kiss, biting his lips, licking into his mouth. What had started as sex, as making love almost, had quickly turned into fucking, but by the stars it brought you closer and closer to the edge. As you felt yourself nearing another orgasm, needing just a little bit more to push you over the edge, you removed one of your hands from Cassian’s hair with the intent of giving some attention to your aching clit. Cassian, however, quick as a whip, caught both your hands in one of his, pinning them above your head with a shake of his head. “Not so fast. I told you I’d have you begging.” You couldn’t think of a reply, could barely even shake your head, with his fast pace, the way his cock hit that spot over and over again. To hell with your pride. “Please, please, Cassian, make me come. I need it, Captain, I need you.” You felt his cock twitch inside of you, grinning as you had seemingly found his weak spot. Nevermind that begging was something you were usually too proud to do, especially with a man in the bedroom, if it brought Cassian that close to the edge you could use it to your advantage. Add to that your newfound knowledge of how much he liked being addressed by his title and you knew you could tease him for the rest of his days. “You fuck me so good, Captain. Please let me come,” you whispered in his ear. The hand around your wrists began to shake ever so slightly, telling you just how much you were really affecting him. His other hand finally found its way to your clit, rubbing slow circles that rapidly began to increase in speed. You had him right where you wanted him, and he still thought he was the one in control. “I knew you’d beg,” he grinned, supposed victory obvious in your voice. You came. Your vision went white, ecstasy burned through your veins. You couldn’t remember having an orgasm like this ever before. Cassian continued to fuck you through it, his pace never slowing down as he began to near his own end. He began to stutter just as you calmed down, making him lose control for a moment, just long enough for you to gather all your energy and twist your bodies, making you end up on top of Cassian, who suddenly found himself on his back. “Wha- what are you doing?” You grinned down at him as you sat up on your knees, slowly beginning to bounce on his cock. “You didn’t think I would be the only one to beg, did you, Captain?,” you asked in a sickly sweet voice before leaning down again, pressing your tits against his chest, pushing your hips down at the same time as your lips reached his mouth. “I bet you sound real pretty when you ask me to make you come.” Cassian could do nothing but thrust his hips up, unable to regain control as you clenched around him, bringing him ever closer to the edge but not close enough. You continued bouncing, clenching, stroking your clit with one hand while the other was placed firmly above Cassian’s racing heart. You truly were a vision to behold, tits bouncing, face twisted in pleasure, mouth open in a silent scream. Cassian was sure that in that moment he could die a happy man, or almost happy at least, he still needed to come. The thought of releasing inside of you, of marking you where no one else would see it, made him go feral, push his hips up further, faster. And just as he was about to come, you halted your movements. “You didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?,” you laughed. The hand above his heart wandered along his chest, up his neck where it came to rest. You squeezed gently, not enough to make him lose his breath, just enough to tell him that you could, to remind him that you were now the one in control. You began to move again, clenching even tighter around his dick, telling him that you were about to come again while not giving him enough to join you. “Shit, mi duquesita, you want me to beg? Fine, I’ll beg,” Cassian grunted, no longer caring that you were using his own tactic against him. “Please, I beg of you, let me come, make me come. I’ll do whatever you want.” The image of Cassian on his knees flashed before your eyes again. You supposed that having him eating you out once more before you’d have to leave in the morning would be enough to grant him an orgasm right now. Your hand around his neck tightened, as did your walls around his cock. Your bounces became faster again, deeper, as Cassian pushed himself up to meet you halfway. Just as you felt yourself nearing another orgasm a hot rope of cum caught you by surprise, leading you to quickly give way to pleasure again. Coming together with Cassian was almost poetic, your moans, the wet sound of skin slapping against skin, and heavy breathing filled the air before you finally fell down on top of him, utterly spend. Your head came to rest on his shoulder, his now softening dick still buried deep inside of you. Cassian’s hand stroked up and down your back, every now and then playfully squeezing your ass. “That was...,” he began before stopping. There were no words to describe what that was. It was unlike any sex he had ever had. “Yeah,” you admitted, relaxing even more against him. You felt your eyes beginning to drop, your breathing to even, and maybe you had fallen asleep for a little while when you suddenly felt yourself moving. Opening your eyes again you realised that Cassian had carried you over to the bathroom. He put you down, holding you a moment longer to make sure that your feet would carry you, before nodding in the direction of the toilet. “I’ll leave you to it.” He closed the door behind him, leaving you alone in the bathroom, alone with your thoughts. You slept with Cassian Andor. The Cassian Andor, the one you couldn’t stand, who you were pretty sure couldn’t stand you either, and it was good, great even. You let out a sigh as you went about your business in the bathroom, shaking your head as you flushed the toilet and grabbed a clean cloth to at least try to clean the bed enough to sleep in it tonight. But as you re-entered the room you were caught by surprise once again. Cassian had stripped the bed, leaving nothing but the bare mattress, blankets and pillows. He handed you a bottle of water as you stepped closer. “I think it might be best if we both sleep in my bed tonight,” he said as you drank almost the entire bottle in one go. Too tired to argue, to explain why that would be a bad idea, you simply nodded your head, following Cassian to the other room and sitting down on his slightly smaller bed. “Do you need anything else?” You shook your head as you sank down onto the bed, burying your head in the soft pillows. You were fast asleep before Cassian could even turn off the lights.

-------

The next morning Cassian woke to your soft snores next to him. Though he had placed his arms around you last night, you had drifted away from him in your sleep, giving him a good view of your face. You looked younger in your sleep, peaceful, less troubled. Looking at your innocent face now Cassian couldn’t understand how he could once have thought you to be an enemy, someone who only gave the Rebellion just enough to get your own gain. Over time, but especially last night, he had come to realise that he had been wrong about you. He now understood that though you didn’t do as much as you maybe could, it was for a good reason, you couldn’t risk gaining unwanted attention, putting everyone you laid your life on the line to protect in danger. His eyes drifted away from your sleeping face towards the clock on the nightstand, which made his heart race for a whole other reason. You were late. Quickly he got dressed, threw the essentials into a duffle bag, and shook your shoulder. “Wake up, we need to catch the next ship out of here if we’re to deliver the list in time.” You blinked, lights rapidly attacking your eyes, only to see Cassian, already dressed, standing over you. It took you a moment to remember the events of last night, how you had ended up naked in his bed, but once the memories returned, so did your usual anger at him. Was he really about to pretend that last night hadn’t happened? Go back to business as usual? Without another word you threw on your underwear, a pair of comfortable trousers and a simply blouse before taking the bag Cassian offered you and sneaking out of the room together. You tried your best to act as if the man next to you was nothing more than a guard once again, putting on an act for any Imperials who might be watching. “Are you leaving us already?,” the same lieutenant who had greeted you last night asked as you were about to exit the building. You nodded. “There are urgent matters I need to attend to back home. No rest for the wicked and all that.” He seemed to believe you, to not notice the uncertainty in your voice, and let you pass to hurry to the waiting speeder. The journey to Yavin 4, the rebel base you had only visited once before, was uneventful. You and Cassian barely shared more than a few words, though admittedly you were always surrounded by either your staff oder Imperial border controls, which did make speaking about last night rather difficult. Finally at base, having sent all but your most trusted staff ahead to Kamaanti, you turned to face Cassian for what felt like the first time in an eternity. He looked at you, an expression on his face that you had never seen before. His brows were drawn, his lips pressed into a thin line. If you didn’t know any better you would have said he seemed uncertain, nervous almost. You opened your mouth to speak, wanting to set the tone for the conversation. On the way over you had planned it all out, you were going to say that though you didn’t regret anything, and though the sex was great, it didn’t change things between you, it couldn’t. “Captain Andor, Mon Mothma wants to speak to you,” a Togruta woman you didn’t know told him in passing. Cassian’s eyes scanned your face as if to anticipate your reaction. “You should go,” you told him, trying your best not to sound disappointed. Right now you were prepared to have this conversation with him, you didn’t know if you’d be as prepared later. “We’ll talk later.” With a nod and one last look at you over his shoulder Cassian made his way to give the mission report. You’d still be there when he came back, he would only be gone a couple of minutes and it seemed as if you wanted to talk just as much as he did, you wouldn’t run. But ‘later’ turned into days, weeks. By the time Cassian returned from the briefing you were long gone, needed for an emergency on Kamaanti, ironically the same excuse you had given the Imperial lieutenant earlier that day. Cassian couldn’t reach you, he didn’t know how to, the only people in the Rebellion who could actually reach you were Ahsoka Tano and Bail Organa and it wasn’t like Cassian could just go over to either of them and tell them that he needed to talk to you. It wasn’t until almost two months later that he heard from you again. He had just returned from a mission, rather short and easy compared to what he was used to, when he ran into Ahsoka on the way back to his room. “Captain Andor, there you are,” she said more to herself than to Cassian, though he still heard her. “Is something the matter?” The Togruta shook her head, lekkus moving with it. “No, everything’s fine. The Duchess of Kamaanti was just looking for you earlier.” The words caught Cassian off guard. By now he had convinced himself that he wouldn’t hear from you again, that he should put what happened between the two of you in the past. “Where is she?” He knew he sounded impatient, probably shouldn’t talk to Ahsoka like this, but he needed to see you, to finally have that talk he had been waiting for for months. A small smirk found the way to Ahsoka’s lips at his urgency. “She left, she was only here to drop something off.” Cassian nodded, forcing down a sigh. Of course you had slipped through his fingers again. Yet another month went by until he heard from you again. Cassian was called into a meeting early in the morning, earlier than usual that is, and he was just about to close his eyes for a second, just one second, after yet another sleepless night staring at reports and mission plans, when he heard your name. “-and Klieml will attend the dinner, during which there is sure to be talk.” Cassian cursed himself internally for not paying attention that very second. The meeting, though important, didn’t really concern him, not when he had so many other things to do, and some much needed sleep to catch up on. What had they said? Why would they send Janna Klieml on a mission with you instead of him? “Because, Captain Andor, this is an important mission and we cannot risk either of you messing it up with that little feud of yours,” Mon Mothma said matter of factly, making Cassian realise that in his sleep deprived state he had actually asked his questions out loud. Cassian couldn’t do anything except nod. He could argue, try to convince Mon Mothma that he should be the one to accompany you, later when there were less people around. Though even then he had no idea how to convince her, how to explain to her that he didn’t hate you anymore, probably never hated you but only your title and that it was one you actually did your best to use not only to your own, but the Rebellion’s, advantage. “As I was saying,” Mon Mothma continued. “The Duchess will hopefully get valuable information during the dinner while Klieml will try to get General Truks’s staff to talk.” The rest of the meeting went by quickly, Cassian tried his best to pay better attention, to not let your upcoming mission consume his thoughts. But as soon as everyone else left the room he walked straight over to Mon Mothma. “I think I should be send on this mission instead of Klieml. I accompanied her to the masquerade ball a while back, Imperials have already seen the two of us together, if would be less suspicious than having her show up with a new personal guard.” Mon Mothma looked him up and down, clearly trying to asses the situation, to find out Cassian’s motivation for asking for this mission. “Andor,” she finally said. “We both know that the Duchess has a big staff, multiple guards, and that it wouldn’t be suspicious for her to have another guard accompany her, a female guard at that, especially to this dinner. So if you want to convince me to give you this mission you’ll have to give me the real reason you want it.” Cassian, skilled spy that he was, knew that lying would be pointless. Not only would Mothma be able to see through any lie, it wouldn’t get him what he wanted anyway. “I need to speak to the Duchess, we have unfinished business. I also know her better than Klieml, we’ve worked together before and had to come up with plans on the spot. Despite our differences we’re a good team.” He looked her straight in the eyes, not knowing whether he had given her enough to convince her. “I’m going to give you this mission against my better judgement, but know that if you fail there will be consequences, not just for you, but for the entire Rebellion.” Cassian nodded. He had anticipated that much, after all, what mission was without consequences? But if that meant he’d have the chance to talk to you, even if just to make sure that your relationship hadn’t taken a turn for the worse, he’d take it.

-------

Cassian came to regret his decision as soon you he laid eyes on you. He had been waiting in your personal library for you to show up so he could accompany you to the dining room, where you would greet your guest. Finally the door opened and you walked through. It wasn’t your dress that caught his attention, though it was of course stunning, but rather the look in your eyes. “Cassian,” you said, clearly trying not to let any emotions show. He didn’t know what to do other than to repeat your name in the same astonished voice. He cleared his throat. Once, twice. “I don’t think right now is a good time to talk,” you finally said after a moment of silence. “We should talk,” Cassian said at the same time. You stepped closer to him, closing the door behind you, looking the two of you into a room with nothing else but a thousand books. Cassian could smell your perfume in the air, the same scent you had worn that fateful night, the same scent that reminded him of your moans, the taste of your skin. He had to get this off his chest now, otherwise he knew he wouldn’t be able to fully concentrate on the mission. “We have a dinner, a mission, we-,” you stopped talking as Cassian stepped closer, as he placed his hand on your cheek. He began to stroke the soft skin of your cheek, relishing the touch of your skin against his, longing to place his lips on yours once more. “We have enough time for one conversation, mi duquesita,” he insisted. You nodded your head, unable to stop yourself. Deep down you knew, same as Cassian, that you needed to get this out of the way now in order to be able to concentrate during the dinner. “I wont apologise for what happened on Coruscant, if that’s what you’re looking for,” Cassian stated, making you shake your head. You hadn’t been looking for an apology, weren’t going to issue one either. You had spent countless hours thinking of your next encounter with Cassian, planning every single word ahead of time, only to now find yourself speechless in his presence. “I think that maybe it’s good that it happened, that we did what we did. Maybe it was what we needed in order to release some tension.” Cassian could only nod along with your words. He had been thinking along the same lines. As soon as he kissed you for the first time all the tension, the hate, that usually floated between the two of you had disappeared. Maybe that was what your relationship was supposed to be like, heated tension building until you could release it in a physical way. “Maybe we should keep it going,” you suggested, your voice wavering ever so slightly as you spoke again. Though this was something Cassian himself had thought as well he was somewhat surprised to hear it out of your mouth. He gently stroked along your cheek with the hand that was still holding your face. He knew, as did you, that it would be a good arrangement, it would help you release not only the tension between the two f you that endangered neither your own lives nor the Rebellion, while at the same time giving you an outlet for all the stress said dangerous lives led to. “Just casual sex?” You nodded, confirming the deal. “Nothing more. Enemies with benefits, so to say.” Cassian leaned closer, resting his forehead against yours as your hands found their way to his hips. “Are we enemies, mi duquesita?” His low voice and that nickname made you clench your thighs. It brought back memories you really shouldn’t think about right before an important dinner. That’s what was so great about this, you didn’t have to think of Cassian, not the way you would think of a romantic partner, while going about your day to day life, while behind closed doors you could indulge in all the sinful ways he could offer you pleasure. “We’re not friends.” A small smirk found its way to Cassian’s lips as he leaned impossibly closer, letting his breath ghost over your own lips. “No, we’re not friends,” he repeated in a teasing voice that brought a smile to your lips, the first genuine smile all day. “And I don’t think we ever will be.” He pressed a quick kiss to your lips, chaste and almost sweet, but the moment you tried to deepen it he pulled away again. “We’re something else entirely,” he whispered. And just as you were about to reply a knock on the door and a quiet voice from the hallway told you that your guest had arrived.

-------

While a lot could be said about the dinner, it wasn’t boring. General Willem Trusk had recently been promoted and was now an Imperial officer of great standing, highly trusted by Tarkin, and it was rumoured even by the Emporer himself. He was also surprisingly funny and good looking for a ruthless fascist, which you had known before, this being your fourth meeting and second private dinner with him, but it shocked you every time. “I must admit, there is never a dull moment with you, Duchess.” You shook your head as you lifted your wine glass to your slips, trying to hide the small smile on your lips. Sure, he was a terrible person, but he was still a good looking man your age who had just complimented you. “Please, I think we’re way beyond such formalities. I would like for you to call me by my first name.” Other than you Trusk didn’t even try to hide his smile. You knew you had him right where you wanted him. It took every bit of self control you had not to glance over to the corner of the room where Cassian stood, once again wearing the uniform of your personal guard. You knew Cassian would have to leave soon, to mingle with the staff Trusk had brought with him and try to get information out of them, but right now you took comfort in knowing that he was here, and that you had come to an arrangement about your relationship. “You have been kind enough to invite me for dinner twice now, I think it is about time I repaid the favour, though of course I don’t have a palace as grant as yours. There is however a very nice dinner party for high-ranking Imperial officers soon and it would be an honour if you were to accompany me,” Tusk said, looking you straight in the eye while he spoke as if searching for awe in them. “Usually only spouses are allowed to accompany officers but I’m sure they’d make an exception for the Duchess of Kamaanti.” The words echoed in Cassian’s brain as he made his way through the servants’ hallway to the kitchen. Another guard, an actual guard this time, had taken his place, and he was now supposed to get any information he could gather out of the General’s own staff. One was a pretty Twi’lek girl, one he would usually flirt with until she gave him what he wanted, but right now, whenever he thought of a pick up line or anything else to say to her, your face kept popping up in his brain. He finally reached the kitchen, which was almost quiet now that dinner and desert had been served, and it only took him a moment to spot the Twi’lek girl he thought to be his best chance to get information. Cassian grabbed a piece of bread and some cheese from an abandoned plate before making his way over to her. He casually leaned against the whole, breaking off half of his bread to offer to her. “You must be hungry.” Not the smoothest way to start a conversation but better than nothing. But the girl just shook her head. “I was given a good dinner. The Duchess is very generous.” Cassian just nodded. He had barely managed to keep you out of his head for a few moment and yet there you were again. “You’re lucky to be working for someone as kind as she is,” the girl continued and it took all of Cassian’s strength not to roll his eyes. Of course he just had to have chosen the one servant who didn’t enjoy gossip. “Though if all goes to plan of course I will be working for her as well very soon.” This finally managed to catch Cassian off guard. He tore off another piece of bread, quickly chewing before asking whether she was going to quit her job with the General to come working for you. The Twi’lek shook her head with a laugh that seemed genuine, almost as if she was laughing about Cassian. “I meant that surely the will combine their staff once they’re married. I supposed the General will move to Kamaanti to be closer to his wife and-” Cassian held up a hand, interrupting her before she could say anything else. His brain was working so hard there might as well be steam coming out of his ears. Were you engaged to that Imperial? How could no one have told him? Why didn’t you? “I had no idea they were that serious,” he finally said, trying his best to swallow the last bit of cheese despite his suddenly very dry throat. She laughed again and this time the sound was beginning to anger Cassian. “They’re not. Not yet at least, but the General is going to propose very soon. He needs a wife, all the high ranking officers have one and the Duchess is the perfect candidate. She’s powerful, wealthy, beautiful, and he actually seems to like her, something that cannot be said for all married officers.” She spoke matter of factly, as if expecting Cassian to already know all of this. If he really were working for you he probably would, but Imperial marriages weren’t her area of expertise. “Rumour also has it that the General is going to be given some big secret task, so maybe he wants to settle down before that, to have someone to lean on if he is given more responsibility,” she added, and before Cassian could say anything else, try to get any information out of her regarding said task, a young servant boy entered the kitchen, saying that the General was leaving and that you were asking for Cassian.

-------

Cassian slammed the door shut behind him, making you jump from where you sat at you vanity, applying moisturiser. You turned around, a deadly look in your eyes. “You were supposed to be here half an hour ago,” you started. “And don’t slam doors again.” Cassian couldn’t even look at you, not now that he knew that those same eyes had just looked at an Imperial as your potential husband, that those lips had smiled at him, maybe even kissed him. Rage took over his body, rage that he had worked his entire life to keep under control, and yet you somehow brought it out without saying a single word. Or maybe because you didn’t say a word. “When were you going to tell me that you’ll marry him?” The words were out before Cassian could stop himself. You looked him up and down and Cassian couldn’t tell whether you were thinking of what to say or waiting for him to continue. “I wasn’t aware that my personal life was any of your business,” you finally said, getting up from your vanity and pulling on the robe that had been hanging over the chair. Cassian didn’t pay any attention to the soft silk adorning your nearly naked body, nor the thin pyjama that covered very little and even then was almost see through. How could you not see how dangerous a game you were playing? “This isn’t personal, it’s about the Rebellion. What do you think your husband would do if he found out? Do you think he’d be merciful?” You scoffed. With slow steps you walked over to Cassian until you were standing right in front of him, your naked feet touching the tips of his shoes, your chests almost pressed together. “Of course it’s about the Rebellion, what do you think why I’m doing this? I don’t love him, I don’t even like him, but he’s more powerful than I could ever hope to be.” A sad smile crossed your lips. “Can you imagine the information he has? What I could get my hands on as his wife?” Cassian could. As the General’s wife you would have the highest ranking Imperials over as dinner guests, would be part of the inner circle and gain knowledge you simply cannot right now. The rational part of him knew that it was a good plan, and yet he disliked it. He lifted his hand, slowly stroking along your cheekbone with his index finger before cupping your face in his hand and leaning his forehead against yours. “Please, be careful.” He took a deep breath, the words flowing freely from his mouth. “I’ve lost so many friends, good friends, I cannot lose you too.” You lifted your hand to run it through his hair, a gesture so soft it made Cassian sigh due to the comfort it brought. He didn’t remember the last time someone had touched his as gently as you did, the last time someone made him feel as at home as you did. “I wasn’t aware that we’re friends,” you whispered, your lips now ghosting over his own. “Just a few hours ago we weren’t, and until a couple of weeks ago we were basically sworn enemies.” Cassian opened his mouth but before any words could get out you pressed your lips against his, capturing them in a heated kiss. “You’re right,” he panted as he pressed sloppy kisses down your neck, pushing your dressing gown out of the way to gain access to all the skin your pyjama showed. “We’re not friends.” The way he said it set your whole body on fire. In the end if didn’t even matter what you called yourself, all that mattered was the way Cassian made you feel with a few whispered words, with his lips and tongue and fingers. And his cock. You could already feel it pressing against your lower stomach, hard and firm even through the tick material of his trousers. You hadn’t had the opportunity last time but now you were dying to taste him, to bring him pleasure with just your hands and mouth. You no longer wanted him to beg for you, you wanted own him. Just as you were about to sneak a hand to the button of his trousers, Cassian began to suck on the soft skin between your neck and shoulder, a place so obvious and visible you would for sure have to cover it tomorrow. “You’re mine,” Cassian said, his voice loud and clear, as he leaned away to fully look at what you were sure was a hickey that would stand out for days to come. His words made you clench your thighs together, you were sure that by now you had soaked through not only your underwear but also your thin pyjama shorts. The way he looked at you only underlined his words. It wasn’t the look of superiority and ownership with which Trusk had regarded you earlier, it was a look that spoke of belonging, of wanting to protect what was yours, of desire. You didn’t know what to say so you did the only thing that felt right. You unbuttoned his trousers, pulled the zipper down with a loud noise, but your hands didn’t go straight to his cock, which by now you were sure must have been aching. Instead you let your hands roam free under his shirt, feeling his soft skin against yours, running your fingers over every ab and scar before settling one hand on his rapidly beating heart. Cassian, whose hands had fallen to your waist, looked at you. He didn’t do anything, didn’t say anything, he just looked at you. Reluctantly you removed your hands from his chest. You leaned up to press a quick kiss to Cassian’s lips before making quick work his the bothersome shirt, ripping it more than unbuttoning. “Someone’s a little eager,” Cassian finally said. You looked up at him from beneath your eyelashes, trying your best to look innocent, as if you hadn’t just ripped the clothes from his back. “Just trying to get a look at what’s mine.” The words had left your lips before you could stop yourself. Only once you saw Cassian’s soft smile did you realise that you were glad you had said it. Maybe the two of you were nothing more than fuck buddies, but right here, right now, Cassian belonged to you. You finally pushed his shirt out of the way and Cassian did the rest of the work, getting it off and throwing it somewhere, neither of you caring where the bothersome piece of clothing had landed. You looked at Cassian, at how the soft lights in the room reflected in his eyes, on his skin, making shadows appear darker, casting him in an ethereal light. You let out a breath you’ve been holding, the air escaping from your lungs ghosting over Cassian’s naked chest, making goose bumps rise up in the process. You fought the smirk threatening to rise to your lips. It was a unique sort of power, knowing that you could make Cassian feel like this by something as simple as breathing. It had you wondering what else you could to do him. “Take off your clothes,” you whispered into his ear, your voice as seductive as you could make it sound. Cassian didn’t need to be told twice. He kicked off his shoes and socks before quickly pulling down his trousers and underwear in one swift motion. Within seconds he stood before you, no clothes to hid behind, baring it all to you. You pressed a quick kiss to his lips. one of your hands finding his cock at the same time and giving it a few strokes. Already you could feel precum at the tip. You wondered whether Cassian was this eager with everyone he slept with or if you really did hold some unique power over him. His own hands wandered to the bottom of your top, slowly lifting it inch by inch. “Your turn, mi duquesita.” But you only shook your head. You had something else in mind, and a favour to repay, he wouldn’t get you naked this easy. Gently, but firm, you took his hands in yours, removing them from your top and instead leading him over to a gigantic armchair in the corner of the room. This was where you usually curled up with a book, or sometimes with reports late at night when you couldn’t sleep. Cassian understood without needing to be told. He sat down, his knees just far enough apart to allow you to stand between them. You settled yourself on one of his thighs, leaning forward to trail kisses all over his exposed neck, up to his jaw, where his beard tickled your lips in an almost familiar way. Cassian twisted underneath your touch as one of your hands found his dick again, swirling the leaking precum around the tip and giving it a few strokes just as your lips captured his in a heated kiss. He let out an almost needy moan as your tongues met just as you squeezed his cock, a sound that you knew you would do your best to hear again and again. Before you knew it you had swung one of your legs over his thigh and involuntary begun to move, rubbing yourself on his leg, giving much needed relief to your aching clit. You opened your mouth in a breathless pant as Cassian removed one of his hands from your hips, where he had put them to steady you and move you along his thigh at the same time, to sneak it through the bottom of your shorts and panties to your clit. He didn’t circle it like you had expected, instead he gave it a soft squeeze, almost painful but too pleasurable to really notice the ache. There was nothing to be done to muffle your scream. “That’s it, let me hear you.” You continued to move your hands and your hips, your orgasm building quicker and quicker as Cassian caught one of your clothes nipples in his mouth, wetting the material with his tongue before biting down ever so softly, only to soothe it with this tongue once more. In the end you weren’t sure whether it was his leg beneath your pussy, his fingers on your clit, his mouth on your breasts, or the filthy encouragements he whispered that had you unraveling. There was no holding back the moans as you finished, nor did you want to hold them in, not when you could feel Cassian’s dick twitching with every sound from your mouth, with every bit of wetness leaking through your clothes. “That’s it, that’s my good girl.” His lips ghosted over yours, barely touching, just taking comfort in sharing this moment, sharing the same air. “I bet Trusk could never make you feel like this.” And the moment was gone. You sat up straight, tried your best to look as if Cassian hadn’t just rocked your world, as you looked him in the eyes. There was something of defiance in them, as well as something darker, something buried deep inside, that you couldn’t quite identify. “Way to ruin the moment, Andor.” Your hands slipped from his still hard dick and in the next second you got up, suddenly feeling dirty and wanting to be as far away from Cassian as possible. You walked over to your window, wrapped your arms around yourself, as you looked over the darkness outside. A few lamps were illuminating the park beneath your window, in the distance you could see small lights, probably servants smoking. You refused to look at your reflection, instead straining your eyes to focus on anything else, even if it was something as simple as a tree. You had been so focused on ignoring Cassian, expecting him to get dressed and leave the room, that it took you by surprise when you felt warm hands on your cold body. It was only when he wrapped his arms around you, one around your waist and one around your shoulders, and pulled you against his chest that you noticed that you had in fact started to shiver in your thin pyjama. “I didn’t mean to offend you.” You looked at Cassian’s reflection in the window, only to see that he was already looking at you. His grip tightened as he noticed your gaze, almost as if he was afraid you would pull away from him. “We should get away from the window,” you finally said after moments of silence. “Someone might see. It isn’t proper.” You felt Cassian’s chuckle against your back before you heard it. His lips attached themselves to your neck once more, peppering soft kisses along it. “Nothing about our relationship is proper.” You didn’t say anything. Didn’t correct that there was no relationship between the two of you. Instead you looked at him, at his soft brown hair that you had run your fingers through, the small scar above his eyebrow that was probably the result of some daring tale, his beard, that had felt so good against your skin. You knew that you had never truly hated Cassian, had only ever reflected his negative feelings towards you back at him, but now you were beginning to wonder if you reflected all feelings back. Ever since you had last seen him you had thought of your relationship, of when it all went wrong after a first meeting that had left you wanting to see the handsome rebel again. You knew that something must have happened between your first and second meeting and that whatever had changed Cassian’s opinion on you had once again shifted. “Cassian, why don’t you want me to marry Trusk?” It was a simple question, one that you thought you deserved to know the answer to. Now it was Cassian who avoided looking at you. He pressed a kiss to your head before resting his forehead against your shoulder, breathing in your scent, grounding himself in the moment. “I have given so much to the Rebellion,” he whispered into the dark. “And I was glad to give everything I had. I would give my life and do so willingly, but I won’t give you.” You turned around in his arms, forcing him to lift his head and look at you. One of your hands cupped his cheek, just holding him. “I am not yours to give, Cassian.” He leaned into your touch, closed his eyes and nodded slightly. “I know.” He was silent for a moment and you didn’t know what to say either. After what felt like an eternity he continued. “I know it doesn’t make any sense but when I first met you I thought there might be something there, something we could build on. I found myself wishing that we had met under different circumstances, in a different time. And then I got back and I found out who you were, that you carry a title that stands for everything I have spend most of my life fighting against.” You didn’t know what to say. You had always suspected that your title was the reason behind Cassian’s changed attitude towards you but hearing it out of his mouth was something else, it twisted something inside you. Did he still feel this way? “It felt like a future was being ripped from my hands, a future we likely wouldn’t have had to begin with. I thought that you were only helping the Rebellion to ease your conscience, tossing us a bone every once in a while to keep us hooked. And yet I couldn’t help but feel drawn to you. I wanted to hate you, tried to make myself hate you.” You nodded. You had felt the same way. At first you had hoped to find a friend in Cassian but even after a short conversation you could tell that there was a chance the two of you could become something more. And then he changed, he seemed to despise you, and you tried to mirror his behaviour, his feelings, and yet you mourned for what could have been. “I realised that I was wrong the night of the ball, and that I had wasted so much time in trying to hate you. Time we could have spent together.” The look in Cassian’s eyes made your insides melt. He was being honest, vulnerable, putting his heart in your hands. “We don’t even really know each other. You don’t know my mother’s name, I don’t know your favourite colour. Who’s to say that we would even work?” Cassian twisted his head, pressing a soft kiss to your wrist. That simple gesture, the way he made your heartbeat quicken, told you that you would burn down the entire galaxy to find a way for your relationship to work. Cassian Andor had a way of turning off the logical part of your brain. “But I know how you make me feel, how I make you feel. I know that you’re my home, you’re the one thing in the galaxy that means more to me than the Rebellion. I’ve been a fighter my whole life but with you I’ve found peace.” You stepped impossibly closer to him, removing your hand from his cheek in order to wrap your arms around him as you rested your head on his chest, taking comfort in the steady beating of his heart. “We agreed to be casual just a few hours ago, Cassian.” You breathed in his scent, relished in feeling his skin under your hands, your cheek. You’ve heard tales of soulmates, of people bound together by what you parents used to call the Force. They had grown up in a different time, in a time where it was still easy to believe in fairytales and true love, in knights guided by a higher power. You had never hoped to find what they had, the love the two of them shared, had always known that your marriage would be a political one. There was no love under the Empire, only loss. And yet, maybe that was what this was between you and Cassian, maybe feeling drawn to him, knowing that you could easily love him if only you let yourself, meant that you were soulmates. “That was before I knew that I could lose you.” You thought about his words. Yes, you could marry Trusk and be out of Cassian’s reach, but you could also be the one to lose him. He risked his life every day, the scars all over his body told of how often he had only narrowly escaped death. You had seen his name on the Empire’s kill list with your own eyes. “I can’t promise you forever. I can’t promise not to marry Trusk if it’s what’s best for the Rebellion. But I can promise that I’ll be yours as long as the stars allow.” You lifted your head from Cassian’s chest to look at him, only to find his eyes already focused on you. He moved a hand to the back of your neck, gently tracing his fingers through your hair. “As long as the stars allow,” he repeated, whispering the words against your lips, against your neck, as his lips moved down. And even if the stars, fate, the Force or whatever power controlled the galaxy were to decide that Cassian was ripped from you the very next day, at least you were allowed one perfect night together.

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Ok, this was honestly a mess! Not only was it my second (and first published) time writing smut, I also had no idea where the story was supposed to go and it ended kinda weird. I might one day write a part two to make up for that, we’ll see.

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Thanks to @blue-ties-and-green-eyes for helping with the Spanish!

Taglist (I’m just gonna tag everyone who liked the Sneak Peak): @ducktruffles @fandom-switch @fanofverymanythings @moonlightfoxs-blog @leonkennedyslefthand @marvelbros-oneshots @starstriker027 @queenbillie1637 @mushyluvr99 @wwesarahjaneroszko @iovesaint @luthienpallanen @multifandom-loser @gothamincorrect @lunarisnightmare @spectors-film @brittney22 @beautifulfreaklawyercroissant @hiddlebatchedloki @jessi55555 @noeliaxvpelluz @skyemaria91121 @theblondeone-029 @juliette151 @chocogato777 @skyewardsherlock221b

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