#Cassian Andor smut | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pedrito-friskito · 1 year ago

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cassian andor + smut prompt #10

i am a whore <3

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

you called - cassian andor x fem!reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Got everything you needed?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You called, he came.

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

You nod. “Hell of a woman.”

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

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

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

You nod again. “Aren’t you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Anything.”

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

“I promise.”

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

“You never answered me.”

“Huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

And he does.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Cum for me,” he says, and you obey.

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

You call, and he comes.

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

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

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

“I’m not done with you yet.”

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

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tenelkadjowrites · 10 months ago

Text

Reclamation - Cassian x Reader (NSFW)

👰‍♀️Summary: After spending ages carefully constructing a plan to flee from your arranged wedding, it threatens to shatter at your feet. But a mysterious stranger named Cassian may offer a way out...and a deeper personal connection.

👰‍♀️Word count: 6.5k

👰‍♀️Genre & warnings: one shot. smut. strangers to lovers. descriptions of an abusive relationship. mentions of alcohol. reader is in a wedding dress. unprotected sex. some dirty talk. oral sex, reader receiving. use of a knife to cut clothes during sex. creampie.

The contact isn’t coming.

You figured as much over ten minutes ago yet still waited. Your hand is curled around your drink which has formed condensation along the rim, lazily rolling down the glass, colliding with your skin. You’re trying to keep your breathing steady but the nerves are buzzing in your head. The fear is growing, bubbling in your chest.

You need to leave now. If you manage to get off world tonight, you’ll be safe.

Yet you remain rooted to your stool at the cantina counter, staring ahead at the collection of bottles that line the wall. Some of them glimmer in the dim lighting, others give off a bioluminescence that is entrancing and not for human consumption. All of them offer the alluring promise of drinking enough and forgetting your problems.

But you need a clear head tonight, especially if your escape plan is turning to ash right in front of you.

It doesn’t help that the cantina, so quiet every other time you staked it out, is busier than usual tonight. That meant a lot of curious stares at the woman in ornate wedding garb.

You take a small sip of your drink, trying to figure out your next move. But your brain is stuck on the fact that your months of planning, all the sneaking around, the negotiations, finding a pilot willing to piss off one of the most powerful people on the planet, has gone to waste.

The guests will be entering the venue for the wedding now. How much time until they realize you fled? How long until your image is blasted on every port? An hour, two at the most.

The cantina is doused in a blue glow. A band is in the corner, playing softly. Unlike the loud and raucous cantinas that are in the hub of the entertainment district, this one offered a place for private conversation and the easy ability to abscond to the hotel above it. At the time of your planning, it made sense to use this cantina along with the hotel to escape. But now, you wish that there was a cacophony of noise and lights to get lost in.

“Would you like another?” The droid bartender slides over, tilting its head with a small click.

“No,” You mumble and it slides away without another word, going to the next patron.

There is a sense of movement next to your right side as someone sits in the stool. You glance in his direction only to find the man leering at you openly. Your grip tightens on your drink. Impossible they could find me already, you think, wondering how fast the glass could be smashed in his face if he made a move.

His mouth twists up cruelly when he opens it to speak. “Nice dress,” He drawls.

You don’t reply. The droid bartender returns to take his order. Something moves on the other side of you. A quick glance out of the corner of your eye shows a weary looking man, a loose fitting jacket hanging off him, a slightly scruffy beard and mussed up brown hair. He sticks out, just like you do.

He shows no interest in you, lost in thought. You discard the concern about him, instead focusing back on the man who is still gawking at your dress. You removed all the jewels that were laid upon a separate netting that was then placed over the dress, stashed as many as you could in a secret pocket you sewed in the inside of the skirt, and left the rest behind for some lucky person to find.

“Why you all dressed up and alone?” The man asks – he already reeks of alcohol and there is an energy to him that you mislike.

Luckily for you, he doesn’t seem to realize your dress is traditional wedding garb of this area. With the intricately woven long sleeves that puff out a little around your wrists, down to the beading along the bodice depicting two waves coming together which was done painstakingly by hand, ending in plenty of billowing soft blue ruffles that swirled gently when you walked, the dress was beautiful – even more so when the net of jewels was slipped on over your head and laid against the entire length of fabric. There was a large headpiece that came with the dress as well; it was heavy and made your neck ache, dangling with sapphires. That had been ditched back in your quarters.

Since the planet was a seafaring one, the bride’s dress typically illustrated waves crashing together but not done in beading. Nor was the headpiece usually filled with sapphires. That was because you came from a family with a lot of credits – but not as much as your fiancé.

But this man is not only a distraction but possibly will attract more attention than you want. You needed to end the conversation and get out of here quickly.

“She’s not alone,” came a low voice, “She’s with me.”

Both the inebriated man and yourself look over in the direction the voice came from. It’s from the gruff looking man next to you, the one who showed no interest in anything but getting a drink. At some point, the droid bartender had given him a glass of something clear.

You may be sheltered but you aren’t naïve enough to think this gruff man is your savior. He could easily be hopping in just to rob you later. But between your narrow options, you’ll take your chances with him.

“That’s right,” You reply stiffly.

“Bullshit,” The drunk man growls, leaning forward so that a cloud of heavy booze wafts over, “She didn’t spare you a glance when you sat down.”

But if the gruff man is perturbed by the intensity the conversation is taken, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he tilts his face in your direction, looking up from his drink. You are struck by the depth in his brown eyes, so deep that one could get lost in it.

“Not that it’s any of your business but we’re in the middle of an argument,” You say swiftly, tearing your gaze away from him to shoot daggers at the drunken man.

“Which I didn’t start,” The man with the beautiful eyes replies curtly, “But you immediately jumped in with the ‘Cassian, how many times do I need to tell you that my mother is just like that’.”

You pick up quickly on the fact he’s told you his name in a manner that won’t attract attention, easier to pretend familiarity to get this drunk idiot out of here.

“I wish you wouldn’t be so dramatic.”

“Me, dramatic? You’re the one that took off for the closest cantina after lecturing me about being late. Now, we’re both going to be late. I hope you’re pleased.”

You purse your lips together in a motion of displeasure. “Maybe my mother was right about you. She warned me, the first moment we met, that you were trouble. And my life has been nothing but hell since you came into it.”

You can hear the drunken man shuffling off with an irritated sigh. Even so, you continue the fake argument with Cassian until he finally drops the act, his shoulders slumping forward as he resumes his earlier position.

“He’s gone,” He remarks.

You look over your shoulder, relief swooping through your body. You are silent for a minute or so while making sure the man truly left before looking back at Cassian.

“Thanks for your help.”

There is a quick glance from the corner of his eye before offering up a curt nod. The droid bartender circles back around. Cassian motions to send it off but you speak quickly.

“Let me buy you a drink as a thanks, at least.”

“It’s okay.”

“I insist.”

Cassian relents, taking a long swig of his drink to finish it off. He places the glass on the counter with a soft clink and orders. The droid bartender beeps and spins off to go make it. Cassian turns in the stool, his full attention now on you.

He’s handsome, you think out of the blue and then push the thought aside – talk about the worst time to notice such things. You’re supposed to be getting on a ship off planet right now and somehow you’re buying an attractive man a drink – damn it, you just did it again.

Handsome but tired, you amend. There are dark circles under his pretty brown eyes, and a heaviness that clings to his shoulders as if being weighed down by something invisible. His jacket is well worn, fraying at the edges of the sleeves. His hands are dotted with tiny scars, nails bitten to the quick.

Even though Cassian looks exhausted, there is a level of alertness in his eyes that shows that nothing is getting by him. He is aware of every movement, every person stepping into the cantina. This piques your curiosity. You wonder if he has a ship.

“Is Cassian your real name?” You ask, pushing your glass that is now mostly ice water away from you.

“It is. And yours?”

You give your name as the droid bartender returns with his drink. Cassian looks at your glass. “Surely, you’re going to have another. Not leaving me to drink alone?”

You hesitate, knowing time is short. But you are unsure where to go and there is a chance this stranger might have a ship to take you off world.

He picks up on your hesitation. “Somewhere to be?”

“I thought so. But it seems my transport fell through. So, I suppose I can have another drink.”

“Going off world?”

“Trying to.”

“Funny, I didn’t think it was tradition to hold the weddings off world.” His words make you freeze. Cassian motions to the droid, saying, “She’ll have another.”

At first you think that maybe your feeling had been right – Cassian does work for your fiancé and is toying with you before lugging you back to that monster. But he is still at ease, seemingly in no hurry. He catches your expression and waves his hand.

“I’m not here to make trouble. It was merely an observation. It isn’t any business of mine if you’re running out on your fiancé.”

“If that was true, then why step in and help me with that man?”

“Now that had nothing to do with your wedding dress. I was just helping a pretty lady out.”

The droid slides the new drink in front of you before buzzing off. You stare at Cassian incredulously. “Are you hitting on a woman on her wedding day?”

He gives a small shrug, bringing the glass to his lips. “I don’t see the fiancé around,” He remarks before taking a sip.

Your thighs clench, forcing your gaze away from this handsome stranger who knows you’re supposed to be at a wedding but instead sitting here. Logically, if he can tell you’re in wedding garb, so could others. Suspicions could be raised especially with a high profile wedding like yours. And meanwhile what are you concerned with? How attractive he is, how nice his brown eyes are, how strangely comforting of an aura he has.

Since your fiancé had been shoved into your life and the arranged marriage contract signed, every waking moment was about how to escape the chains that were threatening to bind you. The plotting and planning to escape left no room for dalliances. It wasn’t even something that was on your mind.

Yet here you are now, right at the most important moment of escape, and you’re getting sidetracked by Cassian.

You swirl the liquid in the glass slowly, thinking about how to word your next sentence. “You don’t look like you’re from here. How do you know what traditional wedding gowns look like?”

“And what makes you say I am not from here?”

“Your clothes, your posture, the way you’re hunched over your drink so no one will talk to you. We’re close to the port on top of that so a lot of travelers come in. But most of all, your voice. The accent…it isn’t native to here.”

Cassian studies you for a moment. There is a note of approval in his gaze. After a beat of silence, he replies, “I’m just passing through.”

“When are you leaving?” You can’t help but ask.

He leans forward, closer to you than ever. You can see the stubble that grazes his jawline, the depths of his dark eyes and how his hair curls slightly at the back of his neck. You swallow hard, wishing that this stranger hadn’t burst into your life tonight of all nights. Maybe if things were different, you would have been able to take him as a lover, a distraction, for a little bit. But not now…

In a whisper, Cassian goes, “Where are you looking to go?”

There is a hint of desperation in your reply. “Anywhere. But I need to go tonight.”

It is difficult to express vulnerability to a stranger in a cantina. There is always that risk, no matter how small, that he could turn you over to your powerful fiancé. There would be credits in it, after all, to return the bride to the clutches of the groom.

But the fact of the matter is your original plan might have fallen through due to your fiancé’s machinations, leaving you on less time than previously thought. On top of that, Cassian has not given you any mental alarm bells going off. This might be your only shot.

“They’ll be looking for you,” He murmurs, his pleasant expression not matching his words. This man is used to lying, you think. “Checking the ports tonight.”

“They’ll be checking them tomorrow too,” You counter.

“It’ll be worse tonight. They’ll be waiting for you to go off world.”

“How do you know?” You fire back, impatience creeping into your voice.

Cassian brings his drink to his lips, taking a small sip before replying. “I know you’re not getting married to a local farmer.”

There is a thud in your chest at the realization he knows who you are – this man passing through, this mysterious stranger who is good at play acting and has a ship – and if he is aware of who you are, there is no way other people in the cantina don’t.

Your voice is so quiet that you aren’t even sure if Cassian can hear the words. “Are you seriously suggesting I stay here tonight and leave tomorrow?”

“That’s right.”

Your fingers nervously run across the fabric of your dress. You did have a hotel room booked tonight only because originally it was going to be where the pilot was going to hand over a bag with your disguise and new ID card. But I won’t be getting that either.

A thought strikes you. “It can’t be here. If the pilot was compromised, he would turn over the room key.”

Cassian gives a small shake of his head. “No, not here. I have a room.”

Your hands flutter uselessly at your sides. Your nerves and panic are starting to impact your thinking. “How can I trust you?”

“You were going to trust the pilot and that wasn’t a sure bet either.”

“We’d been planning this. I don’t even know you.”

“Then stay here. But I have a room for tonight. We leave first thing in the morning. I can get you off world. I can’t tell you what planet we’re going to. All I can tell you is that it’ll be a lot safer than here.”

The entire conversation was in hurried whispers, bodies leaning together as if two asteroids are about to collide. You realize that Cassian did this intentionally. To anyone staring at the two of you, it looks like lovers making up from the earlier fight. It would be easy to lean into him, pretend you’re leaving the cantina to become intimate. He’s set up the story. It’s up to you if it is to be followed through.

Cassian continues quietly, “They’ll know you’re trying to leave tonight. Every port, every ship, will be searched. Come tomorrow morning, they’ll believe you stayed on world. They’ll tighten security here, start looking in hotels. That’s when we leave.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I’m not sure of anything. But we can say this wouldn’t be my first time smuggling something or someone off world.”

What are your other options? To wait to be discovered, hauled back to your fiancé, forced into a marriage you don’t want with a man who would only torment you? That meant risking it and going with the handsome stranger with the beautiful yet sorrowful eyes is your only option – your only shot at getting out of here.

You tentatively rest your hand on his knee. Cassian’s gaze flicks down to the sight before raising to meet your gaze. “Alright,” You murmur, “Let’s go.”

He takes a swig of his drink, finishing it and pushing the glass away from him. He then slides a few credits onto the bar top, slinking off the stool. He looks down at you and in that moment, you know that you’re risking your future to this stranger – while battling an intense attraction to him as well.

“Follow me,” Cassian says simply.

The sky has streaks of purple through it by the time you reach the hotel with Cassian. It is on the outskirts of the red light district which ended up working in your favour. No one questioned the way you leaned into the faded leather of Cassian’s jacket, the manner in which you’d tilt your head and giggle at something he said (which actually were just quiet directions on where to turn) or how his arm slinked around your waist and his hand rested lightly on your hip.

Admittedly, even given the tense situation that your brain was well aware of sitting in, you are still noticing the stubble along his jaw, his bitten fingernails, the way his hair curls slightly against the back of his neck – all things that aren’t important given the situation. But all the mental lecturing in the world doesn’t stop you from taking note of these things.

Finally, you arrive at the hotel. It is small and nondescript, crammed in between yet another cantina and a droid repair shop that is shuttered. It’s only three floors and looks like the sort of place that people would meet up to have an affair in. In other words, it’s perfect. Your fiancé believed you to be a fool which you took advantage of while plotting and planning your escape. Even now, he is probably confident of finding you at a luxury resort or stumbling into the space port. He wouldn’t believe that you would be someplace like this, simply because he would never go here himself.

The lobby is run down and empty. You wonder if the wedding party has realized you’ve given them the slip. By now, they must know, are probably searching the estate grounds for you, beginning to question the staff. Your fiancé is going to start searching the spaceports, if he hasn’t already, because he would assume you’re going off world. The original plan had it that you would be in hyperspace by the time they realized you weren’t at the wedding. To still be here, in the city, made your nerves jumpy.

Cassian takes you up to the third floor, walking down the hallway together. One light is burnt out, another flickers ominously. You can hear someone having sex in a room when you walk past and duck your face away from Cassian’s, feeling strangely embarrassed. Does he feel your attraction to him? He must find it absurd, given the situation.

He stops at the last room on the right, scans the key card and enters. The doors shut behind you and your eyes get adjusted to the low lights. The room is small, one bed in the centre, one window overlooking a shabby building. The walls are painted blue although the paint is chipping in spots. Blue, blue, everything is blue no matter where I go, you think while pressing one hand against the wave design on your gown.

You realize your arm is still entwined with Cassian’s. With warm cheeks, you separate, dropping the act of being his lover coming to the hotel. Cassian is already going to work, crossing the room and pulling a bag from underneath the bed, rummaging through it.

“We’ll leave tomorrow at the first sign of light. My ship has a smuggling compartment which you’ll use just in case we get boarded. But I have a fake ID and falsified ship logs. Shouldn’t be a problem.”

“What else are you smuggling?”

Cassian looks up, brushing some of his hair away from his eyes. He’s sizing you up, trying to figure out what to tell you, this strange woman in a wedding gown trying to escape her fiancé.

Finally, he settles on, “Some records.”

You slowly walk through the small space, heading towards the window, peering out of it. From here, you can just see the night sky, barely making out the stars. It is dotted with ships leaving and your heart swoops with longing to be safe among hyperspace.

“This is the right choice,” Cassian says gently from his spot near the bed, “I know it doesn’t feel like it. But this has the highest odds of success.”

“I was supposed to be off world by now,” You mumble wistfully.

“Well, you’re not,” He says bluntly, “But you’re alive and you’re not at the wedding. So, you haven’t lost yet.”

You look over your shoulder. Cassian is slipping a blaster from his holster onto the bedside table. His back is to you. His posture is different; he is no longer acting, no longer in a character. Who is this man? You wonder. He’s a good liar, clever, at ease with a blaster and quick to come up with a plan. He isn’t smuggling weapons or drugs but merely records. But you bite off any questions before speaking them. It’s better to know little. To learn more about him meant getting involved and if complications arose, that would be bad for you. Better to focus on yourself and only yourself.

When you turn back to look out the window, you realize the sky is emptying. The last few ships blink out like soft stars exhaling a final breath and nothing else remains.

“They’re shutting down the ports,” You say as your heart jolts, “They know I’m gone.”

Cassian’s voice is closer when he speaks next, eyes to the sky. “Grounding ships…” He glances at you out of the corner of his eyes. “Your fiancé is a powerful man.”

Perhaps a tiny bit more powerful than originally thought. You didn’t think air travel would be cut off. Suddenly, you know that Cassian made the right call.

He senses your train of thought because he leans closer while saying, “This isn’t my first time doing this.”

You tilt your face in his direction. The heat from his body seeps into yours. You wish he wasn’t so attractive. Or maybe you wish to have met him in different circumstances so you could have taken this mysterious stranger as a lover and twiddled away the time sneaking from your fiancé with him.

“Swooping in to save someone from an arranged marriage?” You try to joke but the words come out a bit more fragile than intended. “Because her plan fell apart after so much scheming?”

Cassian’s eyes soften. “It happens to the best of plans. To dwell on what went wrong in the moment…does you no good.”

You like the way he looks at you. Is it because you’ve been looked at with distaste or indifference for so long or because he looks at you so gently? It’s difficult to know – the time with your fiancé and all the struggles you’ve gone through way heavily on you. There has been no time to be in the present moment. Every second is plotting, withstanding, scheming.

But there isn’t anything to do now besides wait for morning…and Cassian looks so inviting.

“Just feels like I never have any time to even dwell on things,” You reply, “I’m running from one plan to the next or one interaction to another, just trying to get through it with as much of myself intact as possible.”

It is the most vulnerable you’ve been with someone in a long time and it’s with a stranger. Maybe that’s why it’s easy. Cassian’s eyes grow distant. You wonder what he is thinking about, what memory is floating to the surface.

Your bodies are close now. Close enough that you could touch him. It’s alluring, the idea of tumbling into bed with him, because he’s here and he’s present and he has those pretty eyes that seem to be holding a similar pain to yours.

“Maybe dwelling in those precious few quiet moments isn’t what we should be focusing on,” Cassian finally says, “Taking those moments and making them our own is what matters.”

Maybe he’s right. Or perhaps you’re both lonely and looking for an excuse. Regardless, you’re not going to overthink or brood on it. Instead, your lips find his, pushing all thoughts of the wedding and escaping out of your mind. Cassian’s hands are on your waist immediately, angling your body towards his. You can feel the urgency in his kiss, the desire to blot out the past and the future – you can feel it because it’s in your lips as well.

The force of the kissing has you up against the wall a few moments later. Your hands are gripping his hair while his tongue is in your mouth. He tastes like the booze from the cantina and you cannot get enough of it. All the time and energy spent in fear and on schemes is wiped clean by the sensation of this stranger’s lips on yours and hands resting on your hips.

You’re tugging off Cassian’s jacket. It falls to the floor, already forgotten. He is fiddling with aspects of your dress but the urgency is growing by the second and the entire thing is too cumbersome to remove. You make an impatient noise in the back of your throat.

“Just forget it,” You say urgently, “Just keep it on.”

Cassian hoists you up onto the small table in the corner, pushing the chair out of the way. It clatters to the floor next to the jacket. His hands are running up along the gown, bunching the fabric in between his fingers as the two of you work together to bring it up around your waist. You’re wearing stockings with pearls running down the sides – more expensive pageantry to show off at the wedding, to deflect from the terror that resided in the bride’s heart.

The two of you are grappling for one another, swept up in the present moment and the relative safety of this run down hotel on the outskirts of town. Cassian’s hands glide up along your stockings, looking for the top so he can yank them down. But the band is buried underneath the layers of the dress.

“Just rip it,” You plead and he doesn’t hesitate, grabbing the stockings and tearing them. The seam splits and the pearls go flying, rolling across the floor and making a mess of things. You don’t even make a mental note to collect them later to sell for money; you’re simply too swept up in Cassian. The remains of the stockings fall off your legs as Cassian is unzipping his pants.

The wedding dress gets smushed in between your bodies as Cassian presses the tip of his cock against your entrance. Your legs wrap around his waist, pushing his length inside you. It’s been so long since you’ve been fucked but judging by Cassian’s impatience, it has been a while for him as well.

He grunts as his cock is engulfed by your warm walls. Your hands grip the edge of the table as he begins to rock his hips while you inhale sharply through gritted teeth at how good it feels to have his cock. After a minute or so of getting used to being inside your pussy, Cassian picks up the speed ever so slightly.

His hands are lost in the many layers of your gown. The delicate beading and pretty imagery isn’t made to be fucked in and you’re running the risk of ruining it. But you don’t care – there is something exciting about being fucked by a stranger in your wedding dress, an act of rebellion you didn’t know was possible.

Each thrust of Cassian’s hips rattles the table against the wall. You’d feel sorry for the neighbors if this wasn’t a hotel that basically existed to be fucked in. You urge Cassian to keep going, your legs bouncing every time he slams his cock in you.

“Is this what you thought your wedding day would be?” His voice is shattered, aching, lacing each word with lust, “Being fucked by a stranger in your pretty dress?”

“You can ruin the thing,” You say with a bitter note, “Just keep fucking me.”

“Gladly,” Cassian grunts.

He pulls out of you then which is the exact opposite of what you want. His cock is slick with your wetness as he helps you off the table and towards the bed. The dress is a bit cumbersome to move on, even more difficult to lay down in. Cassian removes his pants and boxers hastily before climbing onto the bed.

“W-wait,” You remember something with a jolt and Cassian stops immediately while you fumble along the side of the dress. Your fingers slip into the secret pocket and pull out a small switchblade, not wanting it to somehow accidentally hurt either of you.

“Turning your weapons over?” He asks in a slightly teasing voice.

You retrieve the gems from the pocket too, showing them in the palm of your hand before closing it. “Didn’t want to lose these either.” You slip the gems back into the secret pocket.

Cassian makes a noise although you can tell he isn’t interested in the gems nor the switchblade because he is too busy lowering himself in between your thighs. He’s lost among the billowing pieces that make up the bottom of the gown but you can feel his tongue along your skin, moving closer and closer to your pussy.

His tongue probes your slick folds before slowly tasting your hole. There is something dirty about having this man you barely know licking your pussy with the beautiful skirt of your wedding dress splayed out around him. You’re clutching the blanket of the bed while gasping as Cassian’s nose bumps softly against your clit. This lovely dress is not meant for obscene acts in this run down hotel. Your fiancé is tearing the space ports apart searching for you in a wicked frenzy to claim what he thinks he is and meanwhile your head is blissfully blank while Cassian brings the tip of his tongue flat against your swollen nub.

Cassian’s hands are on your thighs, spreading you open wide for him. All you can hear outside of your moans is the dress rustling and the obscene sound of him sucking and licking your clit. He slips a finger inside your wet hole, pumping it hard and fast while flicking his tongue over your clit. Your thighs shake from how good it is and then you’re cumming, losing yourself to the pleasure as Cassian gives one last hard suck on your sensitive clit before untangling himself from the dress.

His hair is a mess and he seems annoyed with his shirt which he pulls over the top of his head, exposing his fit chest and broad shoulders. Cassian doesn’t seem to care he is entirely naked while you’re in a wedding dress – in fact, you’re starting to suspect he’s getting off on it.

Your face is hot and you’re out of breath from the intense orgasm. He attempts to enter you but the dress is getting in the way and he makes an impatient noise. An idea strikes you, one of passion and throwing caution to the wind. You push the handle of the switchblade in his hand.

“Just cut through it,” You tell him, “I don’t care.”

Cassian looks at you with a glint in his eye. He grins quickly and the blade catches the blue light of the hotel room, blinking briefly like a star, before he takes it to the dress. The fabric is delicate and can’t withstand the force of the blade. In only a few seconds, layers of the gown are gone, laying across the bed and falling onto the floor.

There is something liberating about ruining the wedding dress. It is a signal to the universe that things are going to happen due to your own choices, not to survival. Allowing Cassian to cut the dress just to make it easier to fuck is something you decided because you wanted it.

It reignites your passion and you reach for Cassian as he puts the blade away and tosses it aside before propping himself up over your body. Your legs, now freed without the constraining fabric, wraps around his waist and pushes his cock inside you.

The beading of your dress is coming undone, spilling over the bodice and onto the bed. But neither of you care as Cassian slams his cock into you before lowering to press his body against yours. His lips are on your neck, up along your jaw until he finds your lips. His tongue is in your mouth, moans muffled between the two of you. Your hips lift to meet each thrust, taking his cock all the way to the hilt each time.

Gone are the worries of all the plots and plans. Gone is the concern of getting out of here and fear about the wedding. All that exists in the moment is the way Cassian is inside your pussy and the warmth that rolls across your skin.

Cassian’s fingers are on the top of the dress, tugging it down hard enough that a tearing noise fills the room. He exposes your breasts, bringing his mouth to one of your nipples and gently biting down on it. Moans are falling from your lips, urging him to keep going. He switches to the other nipple, swirling his tongue around it before straightening up. He grips your legs, resting your feet on his shoulders as he begins to fuck you in earnest.

You love how it feels to be fucked by him in your ruined dress and judging by the way his eyes roam across your body, he’s enjoying it just as much. Cassian leans forward a little, adjusting the angle of his cock before ramming it hard and fast in your wet hole. His hair has fallen in front of his face and he’s panting as both of your orgasms draw closer and closer.

Just to hear him talk in that sexy voice of his you like so much, you prompt, “You still like my dress after it’s been ruined?”

Cassian hisses sharply and his cock goes all the way to the hilt for a second or two before he pulls out. “I think I like it even more now. Better like this than walking down the aisle.”

You couldn’t agree more although your reply is lost by the next jerk of his hips which hits the sweet spot. Your fingers dig into the bed to hold onto something as Cassian’s thrusts grow erratic and messy.

“Cum around my cock,” He urges quietly, “Let me feel you tighten around me.”

Cassian fucks your cunt so hard and fast that each pump of his hips makes your body jolt. Your tits bounce, squeezed out by the bodice of the ruined wedding dress. This was not how you thought the night would go and definitely not how you thought the dress would end up.

“Come on, pretty girl,” Cassian continues, “Cum for me in your nice dress.”

Your eyes practically roll into the back of your head as your orgasm starts. It’s more intense than the first one and your walls clench around Cassian’s cock. He groans, giving one last thrust before unloading inside your pussy. Spilling out in your hole while you squeeze every drop from him, he moans again, going still. Together, you and this stranger finish.

After a few moments, Cassian gently rolls off you, trying to collect himself. You gingerly stretch out your legs, basking in the afterglow of fucking like that. You tilt your face in his direction. His eyes are closed, hair a mess, toned chest rising and falling as he tries to catch his breath.

Your eyes fall to the window, seeing a sliver of sky.

A small dot is going across it, tracing a steady arc towards the stars, signaling they are no longer keeping ships grounded.

You smile.

Your breathing is unsteady, your legs cramping from being bunched up in the smuggling compartment on Cassian’s ship. Even though ships are being allowed to depart off world, there is extra security and scanning being done. It had been tricky enough to get to the ship without drawing attention, wearing Cassian’s extra clothes that didn’t fit properly and a cloak tossed around your shoulders. Better not to risk it further.

You can hear the low hum of the engine idling but nothing else. It is difficult not knowing how it’s going. Your nerves are swimming in your stomach. You’re picturing getting caught, dragged back to your fiancé. You’re picturing something terrible happening to Cassian because he’s helping you. You rub the palms of your hands against the baggy pants but it doesn’t seem to help.

And then, when time seems to stretch into an eternity, bending and threatening to burst with your impatience, the engine grows louder, a roaring that you can feel across your body. Still, you remain crouched, knowing Cassian made it very clear not to leave the compartment until he came to get you.

Even though you hardly knew Cassian, it hadn’t entered your mind since sleeping together that he would turn you in. He gained nothing from it because he didn’t seem interested in any money. He carried a past within him, just like you did.

The rumbling of the engine changes; it shifts into the familiar sensation of hyperspace. A few seconds later, the door to the compartment opens and Cassian is peering down at you.

He grins.

“Just entered hyperspace.”

Relief bubbles up in your chest and you laugh. He reaches down for you, helping you out of the compartment. You could almost cry due to the intensity of emotions you’re experiencing.

Cassian, with his gentle brown eyes and tender expression on his face, asks, “What now?”

The question is a powerful one. Limitless with the universe at your fingertips. You aren’t sure how to show your appreciation to this man who helped you escape your wedding when the plan seemed to be in shambles.

“I don’t know,” You reply, unable to stop from laughing, “I guess…I guess whatever the hell I want.”

And Cassian laughs too, reveling in your personal freedom that he helped bring to fruition.

the end.

#cassian andor x reader #cassian andor fics #cassian andor smut #cassian fics #star wars fics #reclamation

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silver-pieces · 2 years ago

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.

427 notes · View notes

writingdumpster · 2 years ago

Text

settle down

pairing: Cassian Andor x wife!reader

warnings: SMUT 18+, fem receiving oral, breeding kink, p in v, fingering, size kink, cockwarming if you squint

summary: Cassian gives up his job in the field to start a family.

word count: 4,350 (went a lil crazy)

Cassian had been gone on his latest mission for five weeks. When you got off work he was waiting for you outside the building you worked in. You had practically dragged him home, allowing no time for conversation. You pulled him on top of you when you got into your house. You were desperately kissing him and touching any part of his body you could find when Cassian’s comlink started beeping. He pulled away from you, but you grabbed onto him tightly.

“Kassa, no! Let it ring! Please,” you begged him. Cassian gave you a peck on the nose.

“I’m sorry, my princess. It could be about the mission debrief,” he said as you clawed at him.

“Please, Kassa,” you whined but he detached himself from you and answered the call. You heard him talking indistinctly as you laid on your couch pouting. A minute or two later Cassian came back into the room and started picking up his discarded shirt and jacket.

“You’re leaving?” You complained, sitting up.

“Just for a quick meeting, my princess,” Cassian said. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

“I already know it,” you pouted as you crossed your arms over your chest. Cassian chuckled. He pulled his shirt over his head and then kneeled down to meet your eye. He rested one hand on your thigh and reached up with his other, taking your cheek in his hand.

“It won’t be long, beautiful. I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he said. You broke eye contact with Cassian and looked away from him. You gave a small nod. Cassian sighed but he rose to his feet. He kissed the top of your head and headed for the door.

You sat on the couch and waited. You were so tired of being home alone. You had gotten the home off base to share and you were the only one who was ever there. You loved Cassian and Cassian loved his job and you loved him for that, but you had to admit that there were times when you wished he would just stay home with you. You knew in your heart that Cassian would never be able to take a desk job, and you’d known that when you married him. He had promised to give you a family one day, but you knew your whole life was going to be spent missing your husband. You accepted that. It was the price of loving Cassian, and you would’ve paid any price for the honor.

The door to your home slid open behind you and you heard Cassian unlacing his boots. He came into view and sat back on the couch with you. He had a wide smile on his face. He looked light and happy which was abnormal for Cassian. He pulled your legs up across his lap and rested his hands on your thighs, hands spreading wide to touch all of your body that he could.

“When do you have to leave again?” You asked sadly.

“I don’t,” Cassian said, his smile immovable. You screwed your eyebrows together in confusion.

“You don’t have to leave?” You questioned. Cassian shook his head.

“No. That meeting was for me to sign my discharge papers,” Cassian told you. “I’m taking a desk job,” he finished.

“A desk job?” You repeated. Cassian smiled and nodded. He had been excited to share his surprise with you.

“Yes, my princess. So that we can finally have a family,” he explained.

“You—You’re—What?” You were in utter disbelief. This was so un-Cassian.

“We’ve both wanted a family for a while now, but I’m never home long enough,” Cassian said. “I need to be home for you. For us.” You thought for a moment.

“Cassian, you love field work,” you said.

“I love you,” he said.

“Kassa…you’re not going to be happy,” you started. You wanted him home. Of course you wanted him home, but you knew your husband. And he was not a paper pusher.

“You make me happy,” he said. You shook your head.

“It’s not the same, Kassa.” Cassian gave you a look that you knew meant he wanted you to keep explaining. “You love your life as a spy. You love running from people and at people and fighting and hiding and being in danger. It’s who you are.” You ran a hand along Cassian’s cheek. “And I love you.”

“I love you too,” Cassian said.

“But you won’t be happy if you take a desk job,” you finished. Cassian smiled at you lovingly. You cared for him so deeply and he was acutely aware of how lucky he was to have you in that moment. He knew how badly you wanted him home, but even when he was offering it to you, you were still worrying for him and what he wanted.

“I’ll be happy,” he said. You started to argue again but Cassian kept talking. “I’ve been thinking about it since we got married, but the Rebel Alliance was struggling,” he confessed.

“Kassa, you love being in the field. You can’t sacrifice that.”

“A family with you is worth any sacrifice. My job isn’t even a sacrifice.” Cassian could see you were unconvinced. “I did not quit before because I wanted the galaxy to be safe for our family,” Cassian said.

“So, you want to start a family? Settle down?” You asked in disbelief.

“I have always wanted to settle down with you, my princess.” You pursed your lips as you looked into Cassian’s eyes. You were searching for any sign that he wasn’t sure, that he might regret this later. Cassian could tell what you were thinking and took your hands in his, giving them a squeeze. “I’m sure about this, my princess.”

“You’re really ready for this?” You asked.

“I am not just ready. It’s what I want,” he assured you. He took your face in his hands and tilted your forehead to lean against his own.

“Kassa,” you started, but Cassian interrupted.

“Please, beautiful. I want to be home with you. I want you to have my children,” Cassian pleaded. You nodded, finally sure that he truly wanted this—that he wouldn’t miss his life in the field.

“Should we start now?” You asked with a smirk. Cassian chuckled.

“We could at least start practicing,” he said.

The next thing you knew, both of you were naked and Cassian had you sprawled out on your bed as he kissed up your body from your ankle. His eyes were on yours as he ascended your body, his soft kisses and touches drawing goosebumps to your skin. You reached down and laced your fingers with his messy hair. It hadn’t been cut since the last time you saw him. His beard was scratching against your soft skin. His kisses reached the apex of your thighs. He stopped and started to pull your legs further apart for him but you tugged at his hair to get his attention.

“Just fuck me, Cassian,” you begged.

“I haven’t tasted you in five weeks, sweet girl,” Cassian said. “I need you, please,” he finished. A small moan escaped your lips at the desperation in Cassian’s voice. You nodded wordlessly to give your approval. Cassian resumed his actions of spreading your legs for himself. He pulled them wide and then pushed them up so that you were being folded in half.

“Kassa,” you murmured when you felt his warm breath over your clit. Suddenly you felt his soft tongue dragging through your slit. His movements were slow and decadent. He was savoring every drop of your cum that he could swallow and the taste of your skin on his tongue. He moaned against your cunt as he continued to make his slow and lazy strokes through your folds. He had you moaning helplessly, unable to keep quiet for even a second.

“I love the way you taste,” Cassian groaned against your pussy. His mustache and beard were glistening with your cum when he leaned away from you. “I could eat your pussy all day.” He leaned back down to your cunt. He continued his self-indulgent slurps at your dripping folds, stopping every now and then to suckle at your clit. He was worshiping you as you laid there with your hands clutching at the sheets and mouth wide open in bliss.

“Cassian, I want you inside me,” you called down between your moans.

“Come for me first, sweetheart,” Cassian told you.

“Don’t wanna, Kassa,” you whined. “Want you inside me now.”

“Hold your legs open for me,” he ordered. You sighed dramatically as you took hold of your knees and kept your legs spread wide for Cassian. He released his hold on you since you were now holding your legs open. He reached down with his right hand and rubbed his ring and middle finger over your slit, collecting a bit of your cum on his fingertips. He looked up at your eyes as he pushed his fingers into you, watching the way your face contorted as his fingers stretched you.

“Now you have me inside you, sweetheart,” Cassian said as he leaned back down, reattaching his mouth to your cunt. He moved his fingers slowly but kept them hooked inside you as he put pressure against your spongy walls with every stroke. Cassian was luxuriating in the taste of you as he continued to move his tongue against your body. You were moaning frantically as your orgasm approached.

“Oh, Cassian! I’m so close!” You cried out. Cassian moaned against you. He moved his lips to your clit, sucking harshly as he began thrusting his fingers into you more quickly. You dug your nails into his shoulder as you reached down for any part of him you could find. You were crying out loudly in pleasure. Cassian leaned away so he could watch you. He watched your face scrunch up in pleasure. He watched your mouth hang open while you moaned. He watched your back arch away from the mattress before you reached down to grab onto him.

“That’s my girl,” Cassian encouraged you. “How does it feel?” He asked. He pressed his thumb against your clit.

“It feels—ungh! Feels so—mmm—so fucking good, Kassa!” You gasped. Cassian felt you flexing around his fingers and began moving them more quickly.

“Come, baby.” Cassian didn’t need to tell you. You couldn’t have held back a second longer. You screamed out in pleasure. Your legs began shaking as your cunt flexed uncontrollably around his fingers.

“Oh, Kassa!” You cried. You were making an endless string of unidentifiable noises as you came. You let your hips drop back down against the bed as your orgasm began to recede. You took deep breaths, trying to calm yourself.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” Cassian called down to you after he had given you a moment. He had moved up your body and was pressing soft kisses to your neck and chest. You nodded.

“Yes, Kassa,” you assured him. “Are you gonna fill me up now?” You asked. Cassian groaned at the thought alone.

“Is that what you want, my sweet girl?” He asked you in a low tone. His accent was thicker and his voice was making you weak.

“Yes, Kassa,” you told him. “I want you to get me pregnant,” you finished.

“Fuck, baby,” Cassian cursed under his breath. “I’m going to fuck you till my cum is dripping out of your pretty little pussy.”

“Please, Cassian. I need to feel you,” you whined. You reached down and grabbed Cassian’s cock. You made a few lazy strokes before moving your hands to Cassian’s hips. You were pushing at his body, trying to get him to move to a position so you could get him inside you. He started laughing as he watched your attempts to reposition his body from beneath him.

“Don’t laugh at me!” You snapped. Cassian chuckled as he leaned down to kiss you.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. You’re just so cute when you get this desperate,” he said. You whined in frustration.

“What do you want, Kassa? What do I have to do?” You asked.

“Tell me how bad you want me,” he ordered.

“I want you so fucking bad, Kassa. I’ve missed you so much and I need you. Nothing compares to you,” you moaned.

“How did you do while I was gone, baby? Did you take care of yourself?” Cassian asked. This was a game that the two of you played throughout your relationship. You would tell each other how you made yourselves come when you were apart whenever you got back together. You shook your head in embarrassment.

“Couldn’t come without you,” you admitted. Cassian’s expression softened.

“Aw, baby,” he cooed. He kissed you softly, nuzzling his nose against yours. “I’ll take care of you now. Just relax,” he said. He shifted and you felt the warm head of his cock pressed against your pussy lips. Cassian had never had sex without a condom before. He had a chaotic life and he had never been willing to risk pregnancy before. Now it wasn’t a risk though. It was the intention.

“Fucking hell, baby,” Cassian groaned lowly as he slipped into you raw for the first time. “You feel incredible.”

“Kassa, deeper,” you moaned desperately. Cassian followed your instruction without complaint, letting your plush walls suck him in. You moaned in unison as he pushed all the way into you. Cassian stilled his hips once he was completely buried inside you. Part of your sex routine was always for him to give you a moment after he slipped into you. The confidence he carried himself with wasn’t a coincidence and even after three years you still needed time to adjust to his size. Cassian leaned down to kiss you. You involuntarily clamped down onto his cock and he moaned against your lips.

“Can I move?” He asked. You hummed a yes to him through the kiss. One of your hands wound through his hair and the other was clawing at his back and ass. You felt Cassian’s cock begin slowly dragging out of you. You could feel every ridge and vein in his cock without the layer of latex that usually separated the two of you.

“I can feel all of you, Kassa,” you murmured through your moans.

“I know—fuck,” Cassian gasped as he continued his steady thrusts. “You’re so wet,” he murmured. “Never been this wet before.”

“I missed you,” you whimpered defensively.

“Never have to miss me again, sweet girl,” he told you as he began to speed up his thrusts. You let out a dramatic cry almost immediately, still overwhelmed by your first orgasm. After five weeks without release your first orgasm had opened the floodgates of all that you had pent up. Cassian was grunting roughly as he slammed into you. You could feel him pulsing inside you.

“Ugh, Kassa!” You cried.

“Are you going to come for me again, sweet girl?” Cassian asked. His voice was low and almost threatening. Like if you said ‘no’ you would have regretted it.

“Yes!” You cried out. Cassian’s strokes were growing less and less uniform. He grabbed one of your legs underneath the knee and pulled it up, hitching it above his hip.

“Come. Now.” You cried out in pleasure. The new angle was too much to handle and you slammed into your next orgasm, thrusting your hips up from the bed into Cassian’s body.

“Ohh, please! Kassa!” You whined loudly. Your cunt was flexing and tightening around Cassian’s cock as he continued to thrust into you.

“Fuck, y/n!” Cassian shouted. His hips stilled, but you felt his cock twitching inside you and then there was a warmth filling your core that you’d never felt before. You could hear the sloppy sound of his cum in your wet cunt as he made a few more lazy thrusts before stilling inside you.

“It’s so warm, Kassa,” you whispered as his body weight held you to the mattress. “I can feel it inside me.”

“How does it feel, sweet girl?” He asked. His head was against your chest but he tipped his head to press a kiss to your chin, his mustache tickling your jaw.

“Feels good. I want more,” you told him. Cassian chuckled.

“I didn’t give you enough yet?” He teased you. He leaned up on his elbows so he could look down at you. He kissed the tip of your nose lightly. You shook your head.

“Uh-uh,” you grunted. “You said you’d fuck me till your cum was dripping out of me,” you pouted. Cassian was still buried inside you as the two of you spoke. You could feel the weight of his cock inside you. He had softened since his orgasm, but he was big enough that you could still feel him filling you.

“Is that what you want, sweet girl? You want your pussy to be dripping with my cum?” You could feel Cassian beginning to harden inside you. You clenched down onto his cock and pulled a broken gasp from him.

“Please,” you called. “Give me your cum, Cassian. Let me give you a baby.”

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Cassian groaned as he began thrusting again. He was quickly hardening and he only had to make a couple strokes before he had returned to his full length.

“Thank you, Kassa,” you moaned gratefully.

“So desperate for me,” Cassian murmured. “So needy.” He was beginning to build a slow and steady rhythm when you put a hand against his chest. He had been staring at the part of your bodies where you were connected, watching as his white cum seeped out around his cock as he thrust into you. He looked up at you when you touched him.

“I want to ride you, Kassa,” you said. Your voice was light and warm, sounding almost innocent. Cassian nodded. He leaned down and pressed another kiss to your lips before slipping out of you and turning onto his back. He held his arms out as you climbed up onto your knees. You swung one leg over him so you were straddling him. His thick cock was lying against his muscular stomach.

“Come here,” Cassian called to you. You got your hips lined up with his and he wasted no time in taking his cock and pushing the head inside you. You began to slowly push down onto him, both of you letting out erotic moans. You could hear the lewd sound of Cassian’s cum sloshing inside your wet pussy while you sank down onto him. You stilled as your ass met Cassian’s hips, seated all the way against him. He was deep inside you, his tip prodding against your cervix. You fell forward against his chest, overwhelmed by how deep he was inside you.

“You’re so deep, Kassa,” you whimpered. Your head was resting against Cassian’s shoulder, chest pressed to his. Cassian wrapped his arms around you. One hand settled on your ass, giving it a tender squeeze; The other hand reached up to your back drawing a featherlight line up and down your spine. Cassian began slowly thrusting into you as you laid against his chest. You pushed up from his body so you were upright. The hand on your back slid down your body and settled on your thigh. He squeezed the fat of your leg. He had always been very clear about how much he loved your curves.

“My pretty girl,” Cassian murmured up at you. His hands slid up your soft stomach to cup your breasts. He held their weight in his hands, reaching up with his thumbs to run them over your perky nipples. He whispered something in Kenarian under his breath as his eyes drank in every inch of you. The way he looked at you made you feel like a priceless work of art. You’d never liked being the center of attention, but you loved being the center of Cassian’s attention.

You began moving up and down Cassian’s cock slowly, falling all the way down with every drop of your hips. You pressed your hands against his chest to give yourself some balance as you continued to bounce up and down on his hard length. Cassian’s hands were touching every inch of you he could reach. He leaned away from the mattress to sit upright so he could reach you better.

“I love your body,” Cassian muttered. Your hands fell to Cassian’s shoulders and you started bouncing faster, feeling him poke into your g spot with each rock of your hips. You began rolling your hips and when your hips moved forward towards Cassian’s body you gasped and your hips stuttered, falling still as his cock rubbed against the perfect spot inside you.

“Mmmph, fuck,” you gasped.

“What’s wrong?” Cassian asked, surprised by your sudden abandonment of your rhythm. You took a deep breath and began moving your hips again, searching for the same spot again.

“Nothing,” you murmured. “Just felt good.” Cassian smirked, realizing that his cock had made you feel so good that you had to stop moving. He reached down between your bodies and pushed his thumb against your clit.

“Make yourself come, sweet girl,” Cassian ordered. “Make yourself come and I’ll give you another load.” You moaned out in response and quickly began moving your hips again. Cassian began moving his thumb against your clit, sending electric pleasure throughout your body.

“Ahhh! Kassa!” You cried.

“You can do it, sweet girl,” Cassian whispered against your skin. He sucked at your pulse point leaving behind a small purple bruise. You dragged your nails down his chest as you found the spot inside you that had shocked you. You came undone almost instantly.

“Kassa! Kassa! Kassa!” You chanted as you fucked yourself on Cassian’s cock. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling your chest against his and burying your head in his neck. You were panting, trying to recover from your orgasm. The walls of your cunt tightened down on his cock, trying to pull him impossibly deeper inside you.

“Fuck, yes, y/n,” Cassian groaned. His breath caught in his throat as he felt himself come again. You moaned involuntarily as you felt Cassian’s cum filling you once more.

“Yes, Kassa! Fill me up!” You cried. He thrust up into you a few more times before letting you fall still on top of him. After a moment he rolled you off him and onto your back. He crawled down the bed and kneeled between your knees. He pushed your legs apart and stared down at his prize.

Your pink lips were swollen after coming so many times. There was a thin layer of Cassian’s spend around the lips of your pussy. Your inner thighs and ass were soaked with your own wet release. Cassian ran the tip of his finger through your slit. You whimpered slightly.

“Careful. Sensitive,” you warned. Cassian hummed in acknowledgment. He pushed his finger into you suddenly and as he pulled it out, his cum poured out of you in a quick rush and dribbled down your asshole.

“Oh, fuck,” Cassian groaned as he stared at your bare pussy, marked with his hot cum. “That’s so hot.”

“Do you think it worked?” You asked tiredly. Cassian chuckled. He climbed over your body, his weight pressing against you. He pressed soft and gentle kisses all over your face.

“We can keep trying if it did not,” Cassian said.

“We can keep trying if it did too,” you said with a smirk. Cassian grinned. He kissed your lips tenderly.

“We can never be too careful,” he murmured. The two of you curled into one another’s bodies and drifted off to sleep with smiles upon your faces.

Five Years Later:

“Papa, I’m going to be late!” Your daughter complained. Cassian smiled to himself. It was his daughter’s first day of school. She had been talking about it for months.

“You won’t be late, sweetie,” Cassian assured her. “Sit down.” Your daughter plopped herself on the bench by the door and Cassian picked up her small pink sneakers. He slipped them onto her feet. Just then you walked into the room with your daughter’s lunchbox in hand.

“Pay attention, sweetie. I’ll do the right and then you do the left,” Cassian carefully tied your daughter’s right shoe, describing what he was doing as he pulled the bow tight. Your daughter reached down to her left shoe and clumsily tied the laces. She looked up at Cassian with a hopeful smile on her face as she waited for her father’s approval.

“Like that?” She asked.

“Exactly. Good job, sweetie,” Cassian said with a smile. He looked over his shoulder to see you watching him and your daughter fondly. You approached and handed your daughter her lunch box. She sprang off the bench and grabbed her backpack as well.

“Can I go now?” Your daughter pleaded.

“After you give me and mama a hug goodbye,” Cassian said. Your daughter threw her arms around each of you before wishing you a goodbye and hurrying out the door. The two of you followed her out and watched as she skipped towards the shuttle pick up. Cassian wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him. You slid your arm around his back, fingers tapping a mindless rhythm against his side.

“She’s going to be smarter than both of us,” Cassian said. You smiled.

“She already is,” you replied. Cassian chuckled. He turned his head and kissed your temple lovingly.

“Remember when you tried to convince me to stay in the field?” Cassian asked. You laughed lightly.

“We all make mistakes,” you told him. The two of you watched the shuttle pull up to the stop. Your daughter got to the door and turned back to you. She gave you a toothy grin and an exaggerated wave.

“We did not make a mistake that time.” You smiled softly at Cassian. You leaned up to kiss him tenderly.

“Yeah,” you agreed. “We got that one right.”

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

530 notes · View notes

senselessviolets · 7 months ago

Text

"So come on, mess me up."

Cassian Andor x Original Character

Rated M (Smut/Angst)

Word Count: 4.1k

AO3 Link

WARNINGS:

Unprotected sex, age gap/difference, power imbalance, rough sex, oral (f recieving), taunting, lots of arguing.

Author's Notes:

Song title (and fic very loosely inspired by) "Come On Mess Me Up" by Cub Sport. I'd let this man snap me in half like a toothpick, what more can I say?

Nyla Haccard is the 23-year-old daughter of a high-profile senator from Ralltiir and has secretly joined the Rebel Alliance fight against the Empire. She figures her overly-protective mother would annihilate her for joining the band of rebels, but Nyla knows she'd absolutely implode if she knew the kind of man her daughter had been working closely with for months now.

There was something delectably frustrating about him. It was innate as if his sole purpose in life was to throw me off balance. Our relationship hadn’t begun to take shape until we started being assigned to the same missions. We were efficient and always managed to get the job done relatively unscathed. Our case officer, General Draven, saw value in Cassian taking someone like me under his wing. I’d shown enough promise or they wouldn’t have recruited me in the first place. My family ties to the Senate gave me access that they couldn’t afford to lose.

We represented Ralltiir, hailing from a long line of masons who became wealthy mining the endless deposits of marble embedded in the planet’s core. Regardless of what riches we’d come into; a long successful lineage was the truest indicator of wealth in the Inner Core. It’s why my parents shelled out every last cent they had to send me and my five other siblings to the finest educational institutes across the galaxy. My brothers and sisters all attended university on Coruscant. They dreamed of securing cushy jobs in the Senate all the while playing dress-up as politicians. I made a point of getting as far away from that way of life as I could, begging my mother and father to let me attend Theed University on Naboo. I’d said I wanted to pursue the arts and embrace my creativity. Of course, this was all a lie and a cover to join the Rebel Alliance in the fight to overthrow the Empire.

It was a relatively simple facade to maintain. Due to me being the ‘middle child’ and the most average of the family, I was able to fly under the radar rather easily. The vast amount of space in between us didn’t hurt either. I would have to take the occasional holotransmission and pray they couldn’t hear the loud metal clanking sounds of X-Wings being repaired in the background. Every family gathering—a bornday, Life Day, or some Imperial soiree—was an opportunity. At least that’s what General Draven told me back when I initially joined. Did part of me feel some intense pang of guilt in my stomach every time my mother would wrap me in a big embrace, knowing I was secretly siphoning intel off of her personal datapad?

Of course. But that was a small price to pay for the cause.

Gods know people had given up far more to get to where we are now. Cassian never let me forget that. Any hint of ungratefulness from me and he’d chew me out like there was no tomorrow. This latest briefing was no different. Me, him, and several other rebels were summoned at mealtime. We were meant to be discreet and to keep things strictly on a need-to-know basis which Cassian also hounded me for on the way to the briefing.

“...Draven means it, Ny. He does not want any chatter about this. It stays on the ground floor so no gossiping to your friends about it. Do you got it?” he chastises.

“Oh, I’ve got it,” I say, my eyes finding their way to the ceiling, “Thanks for the much-needed reminder though.”

I pivot through the doorway of the mostly vacant strategy room. Draven, Vesti, Amon, and Zu-Lee stand waiting quietly around the holotable. A figure adorned in white walks into view, right out of the corner of my eye.

“Senator Mothma, I-I wasn’t expecting to see you,” I say, caught off guard by her appearance.

Her presence was rare due to her being an incredibly busy woman but when she was here, you could feel it everywhere else. The energy becomes different. Things felt more certain and objectives became clearer. Mothma was more than pivotal; she was practically the lifeline of the cause.

“...how is your mother?” she asks, giving me a modest smile.

“She is well,” I nod, “Thank you.”

Draven stands up straight, casting the blueprint of an unknown building onto the holotable.

“Well, now that we’re all accounted for…let’s begin.”

///

“This is not gonna work,” Cassian mutters to himself, moments after exiting the strategy room.

I don’t think he had intended for me to hear him because when I intercept him in the hallway, Cassian feigns ignorance.

“What did you just say?” I frown.

“I didn’t say anything,” he says, even quieter.

“Don’t do that. Don’t be like that,”

“Don’t be like what?”

“Like a damn child! If you’ve got a problem with something, how about you speak up and come at it like an adult? Instead of this grumbly mumbly shit you love to pull whenever something doesn’t go your way,”

I can see something snap behind his eyes. I’m sure being deemed a child by someone so much younger than him had to be a major blow to his ego. He takes me by both shoulders and pulls me out of the flow of foot traffic and over to the side. We’re better secluded in the nook we find ourselves in. He briefly looks over his shoulder, ensuring we haven’t caused any disturbance.

“I’ll have you know I didn’t have any expectations for this mission! Any! I didn’t know what base we were meant to infiltrate or which Imperial Officer we were supposed to track down!” Cassian says through gritted teeth, “How could I have any idea what this would entail?”

“Gods, you know what I mean. Just say you don’t think I can handle it. Just say you don’t think I’m good enough for the job—”

“You know that’s not how I feel!” “Then stop acting like that’s how you feel, asshole!”

I storm away from Cassian, not giving so much as a glance back at him. But suddenly my movements are halted and I find a firm hand around my wrist. It’s tight, not enough to hurt or bruise but hard and swift enough to send a shockwave throughout the rest of my body.

“Let go of me,” I say, lowly.

I hardly struggle. His jaw is clenched and brown eyes attempt to pry open my soul. We’re so close, that our breaths repel off of each other. A loose lock of umber-colored hair falls in front of his face—just above his eyelashes—and I try to suppress any sort of expression that follows. I’d be panting from the sheer tensity of the argument but pride tells me to keep it together. I can’t afford to unravel in front of him. Then I’d only be confirming his seemingly preconceived notions of me; that I’m not good enough.

That I’m not cut out for the job.

“Let go of me, you bastard!” I yell, far too loudly.

Silence overtakes the hallway and several passerbys stop in their tracks. I recognize one of them being a sentry from the recon-tower above base. He must be off for the night. I bet this altercation he’s just witnessed will worm its way into his and his pals’s topics of discussion in the Mess Hall later on. My mind is going a mile a minute. I can feel the blood thumping in my ears and the warm red hue that floods my cheeks. Embarrassment was an understatement.

“I said, let go…” I say, sighing as he releases me.

I speed off in the other direction, heading straight for my quarters. I don’t look back until I’m safe and secure behind the sliding door of my barracks. My heart still beats with vigor. A puff of air escapes my lips as I take a few steps forward and let myself fall face-first into my sleeper, groaning into my pillow. Cassian must really be that exhausting because, after a moment, I find myself drifting off.

And away I go.

///

“Ny…Nyla? I-It’s me. Are you in there?” a haggard voice asks behind the door of my quarters, “Nyla?”

My eyes snap and I lift my head begrudgingly.

“No, I’m not. Come back later perhaps?”

“We need to talk. Sooner would be preferred,”

“Maybe I don’t care about what you prefer. Or what you want. So piss off.” I spit.

The doors slide open before I even have time to react. I scramble to my feet as a silhouette–a mere blur in my peripheral—strides towards me. I pivot so I’m facing him. In my sleep, I must have shed a few layers. I’m only left with my bare essentials; attire he’d seen me in plenty of times before aboard his ship during particularly long journeys. I’m not entirely sure how much time has passed since we last saw each other but Cassian’s still wearing the same clothes. His jaw is clenched. There’s a fervor behind his eyes.

Clearly, he came with an agenda.

“Oh, did you not hear me correctly? I believe I said…‘scram’,” I mock, making dramatic gestures in front of his face.

“Enough of that,” he grunts, “You did a real good job making a fool of yourself back there. But then again, you’ve never been the most subtle, have you?”

“Subtle? You wanna talk about subtlety? How many bodies have I had to drag out of sight because you couldn’t show some damn trigger discipline, hm? And you want to paint me as the brash, impulsive one. That’s cute,”

He paces across the room, letting his emotions drive his movement.

“I should never have taken Draven’s offer. Evidently, it was a mistake. Us being assigned together. You’re impossible. You’re immature, spoiled, selfish, and have no grasp of what we’re up against,”

“Don’t you say that! Don’t you ever say that! I know what’s at stake. I know the risks. I’m not in it for the same personal glory you are. Who are you trying to impress seriously? No, seriously. Who? The other girls on base?” I scoff, “Please. If only you knew what they had to say about you,”

“I don’t care about that,” Cassian tries to convince himself.

I saunter closer to his position. His feet stay firmly planted. He doesn’t turn away. Our eyes are locked on one another. I don’t think I’ve ever held someone’s gaze for this long, much less a man’s.

“Sure you don’t,” I say in a drawl, “...y’know, it’s a big galaxy, Cass, but word travels fast. I know your type. I know how the second you see a married woman…you do cartwheels. You’re a complete and total skeeze. Through and through,”

Something shifts within him.

“...what else…what else have you heard about me, hm? Do you think a man like me…the type of man you think I am…would be able to stand this close to a beautiful woman and not be able to resist her?”

“W-Well, I’m not married so…I wouldn’t do it for you, I don’t think,” I say, lowly.

I notice a stray piece of lint on the shoulder of his jacket. Nonchalantly, I go to brush it off of him but Cassian’s reflexes beat me to it. In a split second, his hand has encased itself around my wrist. His reaction startles me so much, that I laugh from the brief terror.

“Gods, would you relax! There was something on your jacket, I was just–”

“Don’t laugh at me like that.”

“...why not? I thought you didn’t care about what women thought of you. Mm, but maybe…maybe I’m the exception…am I just that irresistible, huh?”

I notice his eyes dart slightly down several times. It wouldn’t be until later that I’d realize he was fixated on my lips. His grip on my wrist doesn’t loosen but I’m not exactly itching to get him off of me.

“Well…,” he begins.

“Well, what, Cass?”

“...aren’t you going to yell for me to let go?”

Ignoring the heat from somewhere deep within me, I decidedly pursed my lips, simultaneously sealing my fate. Leading the way, I pull us in the direction of my sleeper. He follows along as if my wrist were his guide. I sit on the edge of my bed, scooting back until we’re both completely on it. He props himself up with his free hand, pinning my hand to the mattress. A slight roll of my hips brings my thigh right into the front of his pants. This simple manuever has rendered him breathless it seems. Those frantic eyes don’t know whether to land on my own or my lips. I choose for him, leaning upwards into a firm but passionate kiss. His eyes flutter shut and I feel his lashes brush against my own. I swear I hear the slightest rasp of a whine in the back of his throat but before I know it—his two hands have found purchase on both sides of my face. He takes charge, his tongue ghosting across mine. I swear I feel lightheaded, even though I’ve done nothing strenuous enough to warrant such a symptom.

“We…,” he moans in between kisses, “...we can’t be doing this,”

My lips find their way into the crook of his neck, grazing my teeth against the firm flesh.

“Why?” I immediately challenge, “Because you’re older…because you’re my superior…because if they found out, they’d find the nearest moon and dump me there? No chance. They don’t give a shit. Are you even listening to yourself right now?”

“Less talking,” he says slowly, dragging his cold calloused hands up my stomach, “...fuck. You’re warm.”

The fabric of my tank top catches on his fingertips and he pulls the shirt above my chest, exposing myself to him. Maybe a more decent man might take a delicate pace but Cassian wastes no time exploring my body. His hot wet mouth is everywhere. I don’t stifle my whimpers in the slightest.

“It’s wrong….it’s wrong to want the things I want from you,” he growls, mouth full of flesh.

“What do you want from me then?”

In an instant, he’s off the bed and using my hips as handgrips to tug me to the very edge so my rear is hanging limp off of it, only held up by his shoulders. It’s a swift and seductive show of strength that I quickly try to take a mental snapshot of, knowing I’ll be thinking about it later. I wonder briefly if it's a technique he mastered over the years spent with many lovers. Beyond the obvious slick gathering between my thighs, my level of excitement only blooms at the thought of what else he might have in store. He makes quick work of my bottoms, speckling my thighs with kisses all over as he traverses upwards to where I want him the most. Sometimes those kisses turn into gentle little bites. I practically squeal at the sensation, giggling as I feel him smile against my skin. I’m too shy in the moment to look down in his direction but I let my hand wander until I feel his umber locks, stroking softly when I find him. And then two chilled fingers run from the top of my mound downwards, pausing to circle my opening.

“This wet already, hm? What? Am I just that irresistible?” he playfully mocks me.

I yank on his hair roughly in protest, to which I receive a light slap on my thigh.

“Hey. Behave,” Cassian says, dipping his tongue into me.

The whine that emits from my lips is so pathetic, that I expect him to give me a hard time about it—maybe do another hilarious impression of me. Instead, he has found far more productive uses for that mouth of his. That mouth I’ve wanted to slap him because of more times than I can count. The same one I’ve fantasized about absolutely devouring me ever since we first met. It was exactly as I’d imagined it.

The heat of his tongue, followed immediately by his cool breath as he inhales before diving in again. Before he inhales me. His head locked between my thighs, driving my lower half upwards as his strong shoulders rise. Clearly, his confidence is growing. I finally am feeling bold enough to look down. All I can see is a head of hair moving rapidly, desperate to keep up with the gyration of my hips. As if he can sense me looking down, he looks up, palming around for my other hand. I give it to him and our fingers interlock.

The intimacy brings me even closer to the edge. Before squeezing my palm tightly, Cassian then brings my hand to his scalp. For a moment I’m confused but then I realize that he wants me to use both of my hands to drive his head further into my cunt. So his hair momentarily becomes reins that I use at my discretion. I’m not gentle, but I’ve more than gotten the impression by now that he doesn’t want me to be. I’m erratic. I’m frenzied. I’m certainly not doing anything to dispel the “selfish” accusation he lobbed at me maybe ten minutes prior.

That feels like a lifetime ago at this point though.

The pleasure growing from my depths is a warm and angry one. I didn’t know I could feel like this; I didn’t know I would like feeling like this. That same pleasure nearly spills over before Cassian positions me once again using my hips. This time he turns me over onto my stomach. The hand he has pressed into the small of my back keeps me in place. His other one is trying to free himself of his trousers desperately. Struggling to undo the buckle one-handed, I sit up, reaching back to offer him a hand of my own. My head bounces down onto the mattress as he swiftly pins both of my wrists to my back and with a grunt, manages to finally rip the belt and his pants off.

“Not going to lie, I figure you’d make me finish,” I pant, “...but only so you could lord it over me ‘till the end of time,”

“Oh, baby. You think I’m done with you?” The combined use of baby and the intrusion of his cock entering me have me moaning wantonly. Cassian slowly bottoms out, jutting his hips so he’s as deep as physically possible. He’s almost flattened himself on top of me, the scruff of his beard prickling at my left ear.

“Would the type of man you think I am go slow like this?” he coos, “Huh, baby? Or would he fuck you hard and rough like he paid for it?”

Cassian’s teeth nip the edge of my ear and I gasp. But the sudden punishing pace that he rails into me with practically has me winded. Every time he collides with my core, I’m left seeing stars. It’s indescribable. Like a flick of spark a flint and steel would give you. It’s hot and blinding and gone in an instant. Over and over again.

“Touch yourself if you need,” Cass rasps, “but I’m not stopping.”

He gives me back one of my hands and I immediately go for my clit. My smaller more acute thrusts are a nice contrast to his more broad, all-encompassing ones. Meanwhile, he’s now moved on to grabbing my shoulders and using those to propel himself rapidly. It’s all so blissful and brutal. I don’t want it to end but I know if he continued like this for an eternity, I’d be broken down to a speck of nothing in no time.

It was almost a guarantee that I was going to be sore tomorrow. Future-Me was probably cursing the Present-Me for allowing him to go at it so hard but that was her problem to deal with. My only objective was to finish myself off before he could. I did not want to give that bastard the satisfaction. But the scent of myself in his facial hair made me realize what a lost cause that was. Before I know it, I’m spasming around him, cursing his name in a series of sobs. My mind goes blank and I’m pliant as he continues pushing into me.

“Where d’you want me?” he says in a tone so husked I can barely understand him at first.

“Want you?”

“Want it. Where do you want it?” he reiterates.

“In me,” I murmur.

“In you? Are you sure?”

“Did I stutter?”

Cassian presses down on me hard as he cums and I groan. I can feel him throb inside of me. His hands now trace along my jaw, finally halting his movements whilst giving me a bit of reprieve. My quarters’ steady silence is soon deafening. We can hear everything; our rampant heartbeats, the wetness connecting us, the sound of skin simply brushing against skin. If he were a lover, it would be a beautiful moment. A moment of reflection, mutual understanding even. A reminder that what we were doing was okay and that we both cared for one another and we were safe.

With Cassian, these were partial truths. I have to suppress the part of me that wishes we were whole, that we had something beyond this shared neverending fight for survival. He gives me a feather-light kiss on the back of my neck. Something so tender that could only come from a partner. Maybe we could pretend. Maybe we would pretend. Show each other a brief devotion and chase off the doubts that swarmed us constantly. Outflank the regret and shame and make them both go darting off in the other direction.

Our greatest fears would fear us instead.

It was a nice escape from the happenstance. Is it strange that it wasn’t until this very moment that I fully processed Cassian being inside of me? Witnessing my most inner self. The man who I’ve wanted to punch more times than I can count. I burst out laughing at the thought.

“What? What is it?” he smiles, lifting off of me.

“Nothing,” I giggle, “It’s nothing, it’s just…you.”

I turn over, sighing a sigh that could only be sighed from a girl who’d just gotten her brains fucked out. Cassian rolls out of my bed and I’m able to finally get a good look at his physique. He’s about as toned as I’d expect him to be and his chest hair is trimmed and neat. It’s a brief spell of sightseeing as Cassian is quick to redress. I hardly have the energy to make myself neat again, instead opting to use my bedding to obscure my lower half. Once I get the notion that he’s about to depart, I stop to query him. Not because I was hoping we would cuddle afterward (I never saw him as the type), but because I was curious what kind of shenanigans he was going to get up to before we’d have to leave in the morning.

“...the U-wing. There’s some upkeep I have to do if we’re to make it off the surface successfully…for the mission,” he answers with a small smirk.

Color me surprised.

“W-Wait, so…you’re gonna let me go through with it? You’re not gonna blab to Draven like you said you would?”

“After having some time to reconsider…and to…cool off, I have had a change of mind,”

“Yeah, I wonder what spurred that,” I scoff, bringing the sheets up over my chest.

“That’s not what I meant, Ny. I-I hold out on you sometimes…because I don’t want you getting hurt. Or killed. I have a lot I carry with me but…I’d rather not add you to that list if you know what I mean,”

I swallow thickly. Finally, some insight. Some clarity into this man’s thought process and psyche. But part of me questions if it’s unveiled itself too late. The damage was done. I lean forward and swing my legs off the side of the bed, looking up at him with doe eyes. He tenderly brushes a few stray locks of hair away from my face.

“...t-that’s fine, Cass. But for this to work, I need you to believe that when the time comes and it's down to the wire and things are looking dark…that I’ll be able to handle it. Handle myself. Handle whatever gets thrown at us. I’d ask you to trust me but...we both know how little weight that word holds in this pursuit. So I’ll ask you instead…can you believe in me?”

A moment of stillness passes.

“Yes,” he says, firmly, “but that doesn’t mean I’m still not gonna do everything in my power to save your skin when the time comes. No matter how much you drive me crazy.”

End.

#cassian andor x f!reader #cassian andor x reader #cassian andor x y/n #cassian andor x you #cassian andor #cassian andor smut #star wars smut #cassian andor x oc #cassian andor angst #star wars andor #andor series #rogue one

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fluffyprettykitty · 2 years ago

Text

Badlands

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Cassian Andor x female reader (no other specifications!)

Word Count: 1200 words

Outline: Your boyfriend and fellow rebel convince you to spend a couple days in the desert to help him with his mission.

Warnings: swearing, drug & alcohol use, oral (f+m receiving) m x m (both men are presented as bi), dirty talk, penetration, rimming, fingersucking, breast worship, a little bit of everything just cause. If I missed anything major let me know.

Author’s Note: who cares about timelines when some people are hot. happy fourth and whatnot!

PS: dividers & banners by @saradika

Main Masterlist ・❥・Cassian Andor Masterlist ・❥・Poe Dameron Masterlist

You can't remember how it all started all you knew was that your head was on Cassian's thigh and his head on Poe's thigh, mouth open sucking on Cassian's cock while Poe was licking your pussy.

It was slow and sensual, a change of pace from fifteen minutes ago when they were both switching positions and taking their turns penetrating you.

In the middle of the desert after a long journey when Cassian told you that an old friend would be joining you in the bewilderment, you could have never predicted this. Not even when you saw them kiss clearly putting on a show for you.

Poe had brought along with him very strong beverages and some herbs that were supposed to be stimulants,' they were supposed to help with your mission. ' The mission that had no details or end goal.

That mission.

Well now as you are kitty licking Cassian's cock while moaning from the pleasure on your pussy coming from Poe's devilish tongue, you knew all that was bullshit.

Once Cassian had found out you were chill with pretty much every single little thing in the bedroom, and after your first successful threesome with a lady he picked up from a casino, he was dying at a chance to bring along his old friend.

Poe was shamelessly flirting with you, licking his tongue all over his lips looking at you, calling you pretty and gorgeous, and petting your hair while looking deep into your eyes. He missed no opportunity to adjust himself in front of you, squeezing his cock when he caught you looking.

Oh, you were drooling.

You knew from the moment Cassian told you to stay inside the tents this morning that he was planning something.

And when Cassian poured half of a bottle of wine down your breasts just to watch your nipples get hard and Poe to chant a prayer, you knew you'd wish to stay in that dessert forever.

Now, Cassian is skillfully sucking on Poe's cock and you try to look saving information in your head for later to suck him exactly as he does to see if he'll notice.

You all looked beautiful like that, in a circle, naked and spent, the soft night light illuminating the tent. It was finally cold enough for you to be able to stay naked without sweating too much, the heat at the dessert was relentless and Poe's teasing all afternoon had driven you insane.

When earlier Poe slipped a thumb inside your mouth and Cassian only chuckled you knew it was about to start. Poe almost ripped apart your clothes trying to get fast access to your breasts. The dripping wine had him feral already and he couldn't wait for any more questions m

For the next half an hour, you were sitting on the couch with two men sucking and pulling on your nipples like their lives depended on your nectar.

The stimulation was insane and your hands gripped at their hair as this image would haunt your days forevermore.

Once satisfied, they both licked and sucked on your clit, their tongues dancing together looking at you, four pair of brown eyes, as if you were their treasure.

And you cummed. Two times one for each guy as they both stayed loyal and focused on their goals. His hands caressing your thighs and your breasts. Some fingers slip inside your mouth from time to time.

And then it was time for their fingers.

Cassian went first looking up at you with a smirk. "She's pretty when you stretch her out. She gets all impatient and whines that she can take it all dry." You rolled your eyes and almost blushed not wanting Poe to think anything differently of you.

"You just take forever. "

"Oh, don't push me, mi amor."

Poe looks at your inviting cunt begging for some extra touch. "I can't blame him though, I've never seen such a prettier girl. Makes me wanna ruin you again and again until you can do nothing but plead."

"Won't take her long. She always thinks she can take some much but. " Cassian continues, his mocking of you building a different kind of fire in your chest. "She always proves me wrong in the end."

You whimper and try to hide your eagerness but when Poe slips his finger inside you, your body naturally grinds on him and that bastard boyfriend of yours laughs out loud.

"She's desperate and yet she's the one always calling me a slut. If I didn't fuck her every hour of every day I think she'd be grinding my jacket whining."

You open your mouth to complain but just like that Cassian pushes his finger inside your cunt, next to Poe's, and the difference in textures has you moaning.

"Oh, she's about to start begging so bad. She won't stop until you shove your cock so deep inside her she's lolling her head."

A minute later and Poe was bottoming out with Cassian shoving his cock inside your mouth almost straddling you not letting Poe win first. Your mouth takes him in with love, your back hitting the low pillows now.

But the way he moaned when Poe started teasing Cassian's anus had you trying to clench on Poe's cock.

Keeping your focus on your boyfriend's cock was hard as Poe was setting a fast and brutal pace.

"Ruin her. If she doesn't choke you're not going fast enough. "

"Her pussy is so wet and tight." His hands are on your hips squeezing the skin between his thick fingers.

"Can barely stay in. Keeps slipping out." Poe complains as he is pushing inside again and then Cassian grabs your head and starts fucking your face allowing Poe to play catch up.

"Breathe through your nostrils. I promise you won't die before taking both of our cocks in your tight little hole."

His cum shooting inside your throat was the only way for him to stop. Rapidly he switched around and started kissing you passionately, tasting his cum in your mouth.

"I'm gonna fill her up, Cass. "

"Oh, I wanna see her leak."

You groaned at his word and Poe completely lost control of his hips as he started using your body as his pleasure.

"I need..." you whine shouted arching your back. "To cum." You rolled your eyes as Poe's thumb came in contact with your cunt. He rubbed it for less than a second and there you were screaming his name.

"Fuck baby, you're so pretty when you orgasm. So dumb fucked. "

And he shoots his load inside you, slowing down his movements shouting your name with a groan before he collapses on your chest.

"Fuck baby, fuck."

And he slipped out of you as he landed by your side wrapping his arms around your chest. Cassian made an enthusiastic sound as he watches Poe's cum dripping out of you and into your thigh.

"You're getting us both tomorrow, mi amor. Gonna have to spend all night stretching you out."

"I'm calling dips on that ass. "

"Not if I get there first."

"If you want some as well all you can do is ask pretty boy."

And that's how the rest of the mission went with those pretty boys taking turns on your holes until you were practically too weak.

Not a bad way to relax though.

If you want to be notified about my future stories please follow my library blog @fluffyprettykittylibrary and turn on notifications!

#selenewrites #cassian andor x reader #cassian andor x you #cassian andor x y/n #cassian andor smut #cassian andor fic #andor fic #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x y/n #poe dameron x female reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron smut #poe dameron x cassian andor #poe dameron fic #poe dameron fanfiction #cassian andor #poe dameron

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darlingdekarios · 1 year ago

Text

to the stars.

rating: explicit. 18+ only. length: 3,976 content: Cassian Andor x f!reader, reader is an Imperial turned spy, dark themes [major death], porn with plot, established "relationship", smut [thigh riding, fingering - receiving, unprotected p in v], kink(s) [spit, overstimulation, choking, scratching, biting]

he will think of you every time he looks to the stars.

“They’re going to kill you tomorrow, which has changed our plans quite a bit.”

The cell door closed behind you, offering privacy with the rebel contained within the walls that surrounded him. He looked up at you from between his brown locks that seemed to grow messier by the day – they’d certainly grown longer in his time spent mostly within the captivity the cell offered. His deep, brown eyes found their way to yours, his own full of questioning at your surprise visit.

“How much is quite a bit?” He questioned, raising upward to sit on the bed rather than remain on his back.

“Quite a bit,” you repeated, hands folded firmly behind your back and face saturated in seriousness. He hated seeing you on edge like this. “I have rigged three explosions on board — one in the hangar bay, one close enough to the bridge to make them nervous, and one…well, here. So hopefully they think you’re dead.”

You were brave, fearless even; if Cassian thought hard enough about it, he may even call your reckless abandon for your wellbeing stupidity, if he didn’t know it was because you just cared so much. Despite the recklessness you regularly showcased it had yet to prevent you from displaying competency — if you set out on a task, you would see results. He’d known of you before he even found himself in his current position – the Imperial General turned Rebel Spy – but no stories could compare to seeing you in the flesh and watching you work.

“What sort of ship did you get?”

“No ship – an escape pod. The explosions are to distract from that.”

“I don’t like the sound of this plan,” he stated, reaching up to run his fingers through his hair. “There’s too much risk, too much left to chance. We should talk about it more.

“I don’t like the sound of you dying tomorrow,” you replied, always quick with a rebuttal. He often wondered if you had intended to be a politician in another life, though he never asked. It was painful for many to dwell in the past, as he expected was the case for you. It was something he could understand. “The plan stays as it is. Have hope, Cassian.”

He nearly relented at the soft reassurance in your voice, at how despite you were clearly just as anxious as he was finding himself you still sought to soothe him. “If they know who organized this,”he began, shaking his head slightly despite his dissipating nerves. “They will kill you.”

“Yes. They will,” you replied matter of fact, having accepted the words already. You’d been doing this long enough to know what a plan like this meant, and he wasn’t even privy to all the details like you were. You knew it would be an argument regardless – holding back some of the information was better for both of you. “We’ll both just have to bring our best.”

“It’s too risky,” he refused to relent, his head shaking firmly again.

“It’s all we’ve got, Cass.”

The silence lingered as he allowed your words to soak in, as his brain tried to quickly think of anything else the two of you could attempt. With just a little more time the two of you could come up with something so much better, so much less reckless – but the time had run out.

“When?” he finally conceded, eyes meeting yours again. There were so many things that he wanted to say to you, so many kindnesses he had intended to thank you for and hadn’t gotten around to.

“First thing in the morning. I’ll come to you when it’s time.”

Months of this were coming to an end. Months of late-night unauthorized visits ending with Cassian buried in you, losing himself in the reprieve you offered from whatever his day had forced on him. Months of both of you pretending that the solace you found in one another was nothing more than a temporary distraction. Soon, though – sooner than expected – he would no longer be able to lose himself momentarily in the bliss of your body. He wanted to tell you everything he admired about you, so many things he wanted to ask, so many things he wanted to know.

It was cruel of the galaxy to bring you together this way, but the fact was unsurprising – cruelty was an old friend to you both.

“What will you do until then?” He broke the silence as you turned to leave, holding a breath as he awaited your response. It seemed selfish to ask for what he wanted given how much you were risking for him today, but he hoped your heart yearned for the same as his in

“My job. Everything must seem normal for this to work.”

“Is it not your job to interrogate me, Captain?” Despite everything, you couldn’t hold back the light smile that formed on your lips as you turned to face him again. He leaned against the wall with one hand resting behind his head, his other hand resting on his thigh as his eyes sought yours out again. The smug expression he so-often wore with you had returned; his lips slightly upturned in a smirk as he patted his thigh twice firmly. “Interrogate me, then.”

There was no use in arguing, because any quarrels you may have presented would be false: you wanted this time with Cassian again before he was ripped from you. Perhaps it was irresponsible, but it didn’t matter – your feet carried you to the bed with no argument. As you climbed into the bed and into his lap, he immediately removed his hand from behind his head, raising it instead to cradle the side of your face and lead you close to him as the other found its regular position on your hip. Your lips chased his, claiming one another in a soft but heated kiss that felt so right it mirrored the cosmos’ aligning stars. His lips parted before yours, desperate for the kiss to reflect his need for you – desperate to commit the feeling to memory on the chance this was the last kiss you’d share for a while.

You’d seated yourself onto one of his thighs due to your quickened, desperate movements and while the kiss deepened by the swipe of his tongue across the seam of your lips, your hips shifted in response, a rush of heat flooding to your core. Cassian knew that movement, recognized the hitch to your breath and the whisper of a moan that was swallowed into his mouth, and it ticked the corners of his lips up into a smirk. Removing his hand from your cheek and sliding his tongue against your own he trailed his fingers down your body until his thumb connected with the sensitive bundle of nerves at your core through the grey pants you wore. You had to pull away from the kiss to moan, your hands suddenly grasping his shoulders to steady yourself as your eyes squeezed shut at his unexpected movement – the exact reason he'd done it. He loved the face you made when he took you by surprise and couldn’t wait to do it in more ways that weren’t restricted by a cell.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead before gliding his lips downward to your neck, pressing gentle kisses as he slowly rubbed a circle with his thumb attached to you. You whined then, eyes fluttering open to a hooded, darkened gaze as you sought his face, finding the softest smirk played on his lips. Your ground your core against his thigh, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as he pressed a kiss to the spot he knew was the most sensitive on your neck.

“Kriff, Cassian,” you moaned, your head rolling back as you began to rub your dripping core on his thigh in slow, intentional movements, gasping when it changed the pressure on your clit.

“I know,” he murmured, pulling your ear lobe between his teeth and guiding your hips back and forth with his tight grip on your waist. “I can feel how wet you are already. Were you wet when you walked in here?”

“Yes,” you gasped your confession, one of your hands sliding to the back of his head and gripping his hair slightly, pulling a groan from his chest. His thumb began rubbing faster circles, pressing against the sensitive nub harder to coax you closer to release. “I didn’t…think I’d get…get to fuck you again.”

A soft chuckle rumbled through him, his head raising to look at your face – cheeks flushed, lips parted, and so fucking beautiful for him already. “That’s what you’re worried about, hmm? Letting your dirty rebel fuck you again?” You could only nod in response. “Not giving you my cock until you cum just like this, Captain.”

You whimpered quietly as he claimed your lips again but found that soon with the combined pressure against your core from his muscular thigh and his pointed attention on your clit, it didn’t take long for your legs begin to shake. As your first orgasm rushed through you moaned into his mouth, pulling his hair slightly as you clung to anything you could to stable yourself.

When you’d finished your release, he wasted no time stripping you, tossing the clothes to the side before he knelt in front of the cot, leaning to trail kisses up your thigh. You whined at his gentle kisses; his hand spread your thighs before he reached to run two of his fingers through your folds, gathering the wetness that had flowed from you moments ago.

“Look at how wet you are for me,” he mused, leaning forward to repeat the action through your folds with his tongue with a low groan. He flicked his tongue against your now overly stimulated clit, smiling as you moaned out his name. “This is what I think about all day in this cell when you’re not here.”

He had no words for you then, the only sounds from his mouth his grunts and groans as he devoured every inch of your cunt, savoring how you tasted and hoping it would linger in his mind. Soon enough he slipped two of his fingers into your wet heat, focusing his mouth’s attentions on your clit to hurriedly coax another orgasm from you. You slid a hand to his head, fingers lacing in his hair and tugging slightly as he sucked on the over sensitive nub, a loud groan sounding in his chest as you moaned his name.

Pumping his fingers into you and curling them to massage against just the right velvety patch in your walls after already orgasming once was too much. Within minutes he had your thighs shaking again, your eyes brimming with tears as a second wave of euphoria washed over you, this secondary wave sending a rush of liquid to his waiting tongue, Cassian drinking in the nectar he’d earned like it was the holiest of communions.

When he’d finished cleaning your still dripping folds, he raised his face back to yours, kissing you deeply as he worked himself free of the uniform he’d be glad to be rid of soon. You took the momentary reprieve to return his kiss as well as you could, breathlessness creating a level of difficulty you were more than willing to ignore for him. When he was free of the uniform you took your cue to begin rolling to your stomach so he could take your cunt from behind as he always did – but today, Cassian’s firm grasp on your waist halted you.

“No, no, no…today I’m looking into your eyes while you take my cock,” he breathed out, basking under the blush that overcame your cheeks and the flash of adoration and confusion in your eyes. Settling between your thighs again he fisted his cock, rubbing the velvet tip through your folds with a quiet, appreciative hum.

As he slid into you a groan was pulled from his chest, his head throwing back briefly before he righted himself to watch his cock disappear into you, connecting a thumb to your clit again to pull a desperate cry from you. When he’d rocked his hips all the way forward and buried every inch of himself in you, he gave moved the thumb in a slow circle to soothe you, shushing you quietly as he ground his hips into yours.

“You don’t understand how fucking pretty your pussy looks taking me,” he breathed out before moving on to what he really wanted, pulling his cock from you only to piston it back into you at a desperate, rough pace. Your hips would certainly be bruised tomorrow. “Open your mouth.”

Barely within reason from overstimulation you could only nod, your eyes hooded and drunk on him as he lifted your hips higher to thrust into you at a better angle, leaning forward and awaiting you to follow his instruction. You opened your lips for him as soon as you’d registered the words and he smirked before spitting into your mouth, the taste of his spit mixed with your lingering arousal covering your tongue. He removed one of his hands from your hips to grasp your neck gently, nodding as his thrusts slowed for a moment – only a moment.

“Swallow,” he instructed again, groaning when you closed your mouth to do as he told and savoring the feeling of you swallowing beneath his hand. He leaned forward to kiss you as his thrusts picked up speed again, immediately claiming your mouth with his tongue. A look of confusion crossed his face as you pulled away from the kiss.

“Choke me,” you breathed out, raising one of your hands to cover his on your throat with a nod. His eyes flashed with something almost uncertain for a moment before you gave his hand a light squeeze, melting away the reluctancy and melding it into desire. His eyes darkened impossibly, his hand applying the perfect amount of pressure to barely affect your air flow, enjoying how your mouth fell open again and your eyes rolled back, your thighs already shaking around his waist. Though no sound came, a third orgasm washed over you, your walls clenching down around him and pulling a moan from his chest. He released his pressure when your walls loosened again and leaned forward to spit in your mouth once more before trailing his kisses down to your neck, immediately biting a mark where he knew it would be hidden by your collar.

Your own hands found a home on his back, scratching down the skin and raising marks – perhaps even drawing a little blood, neither of you cared – as he continued to plant kisses along your neck, his pace unrelenting as he chased more – as much as he could pull from you. The marks you left on one another would serve as a painful reminder of what was to be missed when the two of you were separated.

When he finally raised his head to look at your face he was met with the sight of your eyes welling up in tears again, the overstimulation finally winning. “Are you going to cry for me, baby?” He cooed, slowing his movements for a moment.

“It’s too much, Cass,” you whimpered, the tears finally spilling over and down your cheeks. He leaned forward to kiss them away on each side, though his gentle action was contrasted by his hard pace beginning again.

“It’s not too much, you can take it,” he cooed, his words broken with breathlessness as sweat began to drip from his brow and onto yours. “I know what you can take.”

He changed his angle again slightly to piston the head of his cock against the sensitive patch within you, his thumb now rubbing figure eights on your clit. Supporting you with his thighs he released his other hand, raising it to his own mouth to suck on it briefly before he lowered it to your backside, teasing the tight ring of muscle with the tip of the wet finger for a moment before he slipped it in, smirking as a borderline scream came from your mouth. Thank the stars the cell had been sound proofed for…”torture sessions” long ago.

“I’d take this tight little hole too if your cunt wasn’t so perfect,” he breathed out in his native language though you couldn’t understand him, leaning downward again to press a kiss to your lips. “Next time.”

Your tears were flowing freely now, unpreventable as he began to move the finger in your ass in time with his thrusts into your now well-fucked pussy, his own noises becoming desperate and unhinged as he held off his own release to prolong this as long as he could. Overwhelmed by all of it, by all of Cassian, you could only moan between quiet sobs of over pleasured joy, large tears flowing down your cheeks as you stared up into his face in adoration. Though it was impossible to focus you could quietly hear Cassian shushing you, cooing you into relaxation and attempting to soothe your tears.

“You can take it,” he reminded as he added a second finger to your ass, groaning as your walls clenched around him again and another orgasm rushed through you, your eyes squeezing shut just as tight as your walls clenched around him.

Though he’d always made a conscious effort not to, he was also beyond reason, and the feeling of your walls choking his cock like this had him spraying his own release into you, a groan from his mouth quieted as he crashed his lips into yours. As he finished painting your walls with his seed he kissed you slowly, intimately, like he wanted this to be the kiss both of you remembered. You were certain you would.

When you’d both come down enough, he rolled to lay next to you, watching your chest heave up and down mirroring his own. “I shouldn’t have done that,” he breathed out, obviously referencing where he’d opted to finish. “Was stupid.”

“It didn’t feel stupid,” you managed out between breaths, opening your eyes to flash him a playful look. He couldn’t help but laugh a little, wrapping an arm around your side and pulling you closer to press a kiss to the tip of your chin, then the tip of your nose, then your forehead.

“Nothing ever feels stupid with you.”

The hours that passed next to him were blissful, lying on your sides facing one another as your fingers ran through his hair gently, both of you savoring the feeling. It was as if Cassian didn’t blink a single time, seeking to memorize every detail of your face. While you would have been more than content to lay in perfect silence with him, he insisted you talk – about your home planet, about your family, about anyone you had ever cared for so he could remember your voice; so he could remember you.

“But what about you?” he questioned when the time finally came to separate, his fingers lightly brushing your jaw in a soft embrace. His eyes, the same that had looked at you with such disdain not so long ago at all, now held you with such reverence it was hard to look into them for too long – to be faced with how highly he thought of you knowing how you deserved to truly be seen.

“There’s only room for one,” came your simple reply, the five words carrying more weight than any small sentence had on him before, crushing his heart into his chest. Still, he had to believe there was hope. There always had to be.

“When will I see you again?”

His forehead leaned to yours, his brow pressing into yours as though he was trying to meld the two of you together, to force you to be with him until the end. The galaxy was cruel, a lesson you’d both learned long ago in such different ways, and this moment could not be forever. Nothing so pure as love could blossom under the conditions the two of you had grown in.

“Whenever I look to the stars I will see your face, Cassian Andor,” you breathed, your hands coming to rest on the sides of his neck. Your fingers, normally so steady and certain and calculative, were shaking against his skin, your nerves unhidden for once. Now was not the time for barriers – now was the time to be vulnerable, to show someone the parts of you that had been hidden away for so long.

He closed the distance between the two of you, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that carried much more with it than any other had. As he cherished the feeling of your soft lips against his own, he tasted the salt that filled your tears. Without breaking the kiss, he brushed a thumb under one of your eyes, collecting the tears that gathered there. He had to wonder if the tears were for him, because you didn’t want to be separated from him – or if they were simply because when he was gone, so would everyone on the base that truly knew you. He supposed it didn’t matter.

He broke the kiss to lean his head against yours again, inhaling the scent that surrounded you that he hoped he never had to forget. Hope – he had to have that trademark hope that he so often spoke of – to not resign himself to the mental misery of accepting that he would never see you again. To pretend this could end in anything but was a fallacy, it only made sense that he had to lose you, too – that was the overarching theme of his life. Loss. There were so many things he wished to say, to express, to confess, but none of them came.

You had grabbed his shirt at some point in the embrace and now, though every cell in your body begged you not to, you pushed him through the open door of the escape pod, your eyes finding the last bits of comfort in his. Before you could pull your hand away, he captured it in one of his own, raising it to his lips to press a gentle kiss to your knuckles. His eyes pleaded with you with words he couldn’t bring himself to speak.

You wanted to be this new version of yourself - perhaps the version that had always been begging to come out - beside him. But it was one of you or neither of you, and Cassian Andor was far more important to the galaxy than you would ever be.

You couldn’t stop yourself from stepping forward again to brush your fingertips against his jaw, pulling your other hand free of his at the moment a familiar, electric breathing filled the room.

“Traitor,” came the robotic voice of Darth Vader, your feet carrying you backward and away from Cassian before it was too late. As the door to the pod closed as did your windpipe, the force constricting your breath. From Cassian’s view he could see the man behind you with one solitary hand raised, his helmet hiding the monster beneath.

His fists slammed to the window on the pod in front of him, obvious yelling leaving his mouth as he pounded the glass. The tears in your eyes streaked down your cheeks faster, and despite it all a relieved smile flashed on your face. Your lips moved with words he could not hear as your shaking fist connected with the button before you, sending the pod and the man within free. Though the words weren’t heard, he could read them on your lips as he’d practiced many times before now.

“To the stars.”

masterlist. star wars masterlist.

#cassian andor #cassian andor x reader #cassian andor x you #cassian andor smut #star wars smut #star wars fanfiction

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dameronscopilot · 2 years ago

Text

* = contains smut

// ONESHOTS

yours & mine* - A possessive look flares in Cassian’s eyes as he watches the Imperial general’s filthy, wandering hands touch you. He knows it’s all a part of the job—you’re Rebel spies, you’re undercover. You’re here at this gala to collect vital information. But he hates it all the same.

Open Channels* - In which you learn a lesson about what happens when you forget where you left your comlink.

A Taste* - A mission lasts far longer than it was supposed to, and Cassian shows you just how much he missed you when you get back to the Rebel base.

Off Limits* - When Cassian Andor goes undercover for the Rebellion and ends up assigned to guard the daughter of an Imperial general, he soon realizes he’s bitten off far more than he can chew.

Crossing Lines* (sequel to Off Limits) - With the promise of your long-awaited freedom from the Empire just on the horizon, you and Cassian have a risky celebration the evening before your escape.

Pretending (or not) - Given Cassian’s perpetual distaste for all things merry and festive, his offer to be your fake date for your company’s holiday party is surprising, to say the least.

fell into place* - In which a tight space and Cassian’s firm thigh lead to an inevitable outcome. So maybe you don’t hate him quite as much as you think you do.

// HEADCANONS/MISC. DRABBLES

▸ Forbidden Relationship ▸ Jealous Cassian Andor ▸ Jealous Cassian Andor (NSFW)*

» BACK TO MAIN MASTERLIST

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

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moonlight-prose · 2 years ago

Text

♱ ALL THE KING'S HORSES ♱

a/n: it's october 13th right? totally the day i was supposed to post this? so i am deep in my cassian feels and have been re-watching andor as well as rogue one yesterday. which is why i finally got inspo for this prompt. it's more angsty than i intended, but that always seems to happen. expect me to randomly drop kinktober prompts here and there throughout january, because my brain is slowly waking up.

day thirteen - against a wall + rough sex | kinktober 2022

summary: a near death experience makes both of you realize your feelings for one another.

word count:

pairing: cassian andor x f!reader

warnings: MINORS DNI, cussing, fighting, angst, talk of death, rough sex, emotions.

Traveling in a small ship where tight quarters meant you curling up in a small cot and him taking the uncomfortable cold floor of the ship, made everything harder. You weren’t friends with Cassian Andor. Shit, you were barely even allies. Which is why when he came looking for you by order of the Rebellion, you laughed in his face. Told him to go find someone else to do the Rebellion’s bidding and tried to leave.

The only problem is…Cassian Andor is a stubborn fucker when he wants to be.

Which is how you ended up here. Cleaning blood off your split lip and glaring at him in the hopes of burning an actual hole in his head.

“You were supposed to wait,” he grunted, tossing his bag onto the small but extremely uncomfortable bench that was attached to the wall of his ship. You suddenly understood why he chose to sleep on the floor rather than on this.

“I didn’t have time to wait.”

“That wasn’t your call to make.” You scoffed, turning to stare at the wall. “You could have been killed,” he spit, taking a step forward.

“But the job would have been done.”

There was no hiding how little your life mattered in the span of things. You knew if you died, you wouldn't be honored, wouldn’t be remembered, or even given a funeral. Your death would be a blip on the Rebellion’s radar and an accomplishment on the Empire’s. Going in you knew that there would be a possibility of no one mourning you after you were gone, but you refused to even accept the fact that Cassian would be that person.

He couldn’t be.

“Is that what you think? That your death wouldn’t mean something?”

Standing abruptly, you turned, your face inches away from his. “My death would mean we were one step closer to stopping the Empire.”

His lips quirked, eyes flashing with mirth. It surprised you to see a small glimmer of care in them—a piece of him that actually gave a shit about you. That was hard to come by in a person and having it be absent from your entire life left you craving it more than you wanted to believe. You wanted someone to mourn you. You wanted to be remembered in some way after you were gone. But the thought of it being him left you with a heavy weight of guilt—an ache you didn’t wish to bear.

“Being closer wouldn’t be worth losing your life.”

“And who are you to fucking determine that huh?” Huffing, you tried to calm the anger that wished to rear its ugly head. There was no use getting into a fight now, not when you had things to do. “I knew what could happen on this job and I said yes. So don’t lecture me on staying alive when it was you asking me to follow this plan.”

“You’re going to blame this on me?” He moved closer, forcing you to stumble back until your back hit the cold metal wall of the ship. “You want to put your death on my hands?”

“Cass—”

His hands slammed against the wall on either side of your head, caging you in as his expression shifted to anger. “Fine. But you cannot say your death means nothing.”

“Oh come on Cassian. There’s no need to pretend that you care.” You were prodding at an open wound, but you couldn’t stop. That was the relationship you two shared. You wound each other up so tightly that anything could make you snap, leaving you in a mess of your own making.

“Don’t—”

Your lips pulled up into a sneer. “We both know that I’m here to be expendable. I was going to die either way—”

He gripped the back of your neck tightly in one hand, his lips slotting against yours roughly, catching you entirely by surprise. You hadn’t expected him to kiss you. Fighting happened regularly between the two of you, but kissing…anything to show a small fracture of tenderness was unheard of. Yet you didn’t pull away. You found you couldn’t. He was too enticing to stray from and you craved him far more than you originally thought.

Falling into his hold, you dug your hands into his hair, yanking on the strands and pressing your body even closer. Whether this was born out of the incessant need that hummed beneath your skin or the adrenaline that still filled you, neither of you could say. You wouldn’t be surprised if he regretted this whole fucking thing once it was over. But you refused to go near that topic.

Not when he was slipping his tongue into your mouth and drawing out sounds you hadn’t made in what felt like eons.

“You’re frustrating,” he grunted against your lips, hands yanking at your top as you practically ripped at his jacket.

“Look who’s talking.”

He didn’t respond, his palms sliding down your sides and grinning as your head fell back, a breathy sound reverberating off the walls. Seconds passed by before you realized that it came from you.

You didn’t care if there was barely any gentleness behind his hands, all you could care about was that they were warm and they made you shiver with want. A need to have him inside you stronger than you’d ever felt it before. Sure, you’d known him nearly all your life and once or twice you entertained the idea of being with him, but nothing ever came from those daydreams.

Until now.

“You’re not the expendable one,” he mumbled, helping you to strip off his shirt before he pulled at your pants.

“Don’t lie to me.”

His expression hardened, hand sliding into your underwear that was practically soaked through from your slick. You were dripping for him to a point where heat spread up your neck and face once he realized. Cassian had always been able to carve himself into your heart. Create a spot meant solely for him. It’s how he knew you’d say yes, how he knew you’d be willing to fight alongside him—even be willing to let him touch you like this.

That’s what aggravated you the most. He knew how you felt and never told you how he felt.

His name was a broken plea on your lips, your eyes falling shut as his fingers swiped through your slick, pressing against your clit lightly. It wasn’t enough to ease the throbbing between your legs, barely enough to even count as a touch. He was simply taunting you with what he could do.

“You think I’m lying?” His other hand cupped your chin, tilting your head to meet his stern gaze. “You were never here to die.”

Your lips curved up into a rueful smile. “Then why am I here huh?” Slipping your hand into his pants, you cupped him gently, a thrill shooting through your chest at the sight of him willing and ready in your hold.

He groaned, his lips brushing yours slowly as you stroked him as if you had all the time in the world. You knew how maddening it felt—every twitch of his cock and slight thrust of his hips telling you as much. Except you never let up. He had his chance to tease you and now it was your turn. Although you knew it would never last long, because he grew anxious. The grip on your chin tightened, his lips molding against yours roughly as he took control again—left you breathless and wanting in his hold.

“You’re here because I need you.”

Finally an admission that let you see through his cold exterior for once. A small piece of the truth that he kept so close to him you were afraid you’d never get to see it at all.

Gasping into the kiss, you felt him shove your leg up and around his hips—the tight hold he had on your thigh was bruising. You enjoyed seeing him take control of a situation, but taking control of you. Moving you how he wanted, giving you pleasure how he saw fit, caused heat to pool in your stomach. A moan spilling free as his teeth nipped sharply at your throat.

You helped him shove your pants down while you tore at his. The groan he pressed to your skin sent sparks down your spine and you felt your body go pliant in his hold. He must have felt it too, because he never gave you a chance to wrap your hand around his aching cock. You barely got a glimpse of it before he was lining himself up and pressing into you—a choked keening moan being swallowed by his lips.

“You’re here to save me from myself,” he murmured, shutting his eyes tightly as your walls clenched down around him. Your nails dug sharply into his shoulders to maintain some level of equilibrium in your dizzying state. But no matter how hard you attempted to clutch at him, you couldn’t stop the array of sensations that wracked your body.

You’d never felt so full before. As if he was breaking you in half only to keep the pieces to himself. To save him from himself. They were words that wouldn’t have held meaning to anyone else—simply something to rush out in the heat of passion—but to you…they were the truth. You’d been saving Cassian his whole life. Even if he was the one to pull you out of the physical altercations, you were the one to restore his heart. To remind him that hope remained in his soul even when the sky went dark from the Empire’s shadow.

“Fuck,” you gasped, head digging into his shoulder as he dug his hands even further into your body.

His cock dragged along your walls, each ridge pressing deliciously right where you needed it. You felt the coarseness of his hair press along your clit with each thrust of his hips slamming into yours. It made the breath catch in your throat, the sparks stretching from your core to each tendril of your body. He set you alight with the fire in his veins and you begged him to burn you some more.

Digging a hand into his hair, you yanked his head back until his dark eyes clouded with lust locked on yours. His lips were swollen, cheeks flushed, and face shiny with a thin sheen of sweat and still he was perfect. Pressing your thumb along his bottom lip your breath hitched as he took it into his mouth, sucking on it in time with his thrusts. You wanted to ruin him. To remind him that his heart had always been yours.

Only the way he moaned around your thumb, eyes fluttering shut, his hips stuttering as your cunt tightened around him even further, told you that he knew.

“I’m here,” you breathed, feeling his forehead press against yours, his chest heaving with each gasping breath. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Shit,” he panted. His lips pressed roughly against yours, spit trailing down your chin as he licked deeply into your mouth.

There was no rhyme or reason to your movements—each one a desperate mad pull towards the pleasure you both were aching for. Yet you still remained perfectly in sync. A dance between two people who’s song had always been playing, just never heard before.

“I–” He felt you bear down on his cock, the built up orgasm practically singeing your veins. “I–”

You nodded, lips sliding against his as he sped up, chasing both your releases. “I know,” you replied, the sting of tears burning your eyes. “Me too.”

Finally after wondering for years you understood what he could never say. The words got lodged in his throat each time he looked your way, each time he bothered to hope for something more than this. Sure, you were angry at him half of the time, but it let him know you cared enough to get mad. That you were still with him even if you were apart. He needed you to help him pick up his broken pieces—to replace them with something more than hope.

To finally give him the indulgence of love he constantly pushed away.

“Cassian,” you sobbed, your hips attempting to meet his movements as you finally tipped over the edge.

A ragged grunt was ripped from him as he fell forward, his hand slapping against the wall of the ship. You writhed against him, your body wracked with so much overwhelming pleasure you found it hard to breathe. If you could speak you knew you’d say the three words both of you were terrified to hear and a part of you was glad you stayed silent.

You heard him call out your name through the rushing sound that echoed in your ears. The sound sent a delicious streak of heat down your spine. His cock spurted into you as he followed you off that cliff. Both of you, falling together.

It took a few minutes until either of you were coherent enough to gather your senses and see what came next. Eventually you’d have to talk about what was said, but for now you were content to stay like this.

“Let’s go home,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to your collarbone—your hand running through his hair.

“I’d like that,” you replied, sinking into the warmth his body emitted.

Both of you were surrounded by the reflection of each other’s broken pieces, finally ready to put them back together again.

#cassian andor x reader #cassian andor x you #cassian andor x y/n #cassian andor x f!reader #cassian andor smut #cassian andor #kinktober 2022 #my writing

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pedrito-friskito · 2 years ago

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REBEL SUNS

cassian andor has a bad habit of losing the things he loves.

the tragedy before the tragedy. before scarif, before jyn erso and the death star, fate had something else planned for cassian. something fleeting and fiery, something he could tell himself over and over that he couldn’t have, that he didn’t need. but something he was given, something he lost…you.

full disclosure: this story is sad as hell. there is no happy ending (we’ve all seen rogue one, we know what happens to captain andor in the end). but I wanted to give him something in the interim, something to fuel his rebellious desire a little further, something to show why he built up his walls, what made him the way that he was by the end. but mostly, I wanted to give him hope.

warnings: MY BLOG IS 18+, MINORS DNI (each chapter will have their own, but please start here before you dive into the story) DEATH, canon-typical violence and injuries, SPOILERS FOR BOTH THE ANDOR SERIES and ROGUE ONE (I highly suggest watching both before reading this if you haven’t already - there are lots of easter eggs and references!), mentions/depictions of blood, kidnapping, brief mentions of torture (no depictions), betrayal, mutual pining, smut, unprotected p-in-v, oral (f and m receiving), swearing, jealous!cassian, typical imperial behaviour (read: a bunch of assholes). reader dies in the end, the final chapter is rogue one from cassian’s perspective after the events of this fic. my askbox is always open if you want a heads up on anything else.

chapters + release dates under the cut!

summaries will be posted after chapters are released. chapters with smut are marked with *, chapters eight and nine contain explicit reader/character deaths.

chapter one: (take me back to) the night we met

cassian finds something familiar in the mud, and gets much more than he bargained for.

chapter two: how rare and beautiful it is (to even exist)

you and cassian pull a job for luthen, and something is starting to form between you and the rebel.

chapter three: just my soul responding (to the heavy heart I’m holding)*

things don’t go as planned on hosnian prime.

chapter four: takes one to know one (you’re a cowboy like me)*

cassian lets his emotions get the better of him.

chapter five: (we are all) living in a dream* - TBA

chapter six: there is a light (that never goes out)* - TBA

chapter seven: a sky full of stars (you light up the dark)* - TBA

chapter eight: (goodbye, goodbye, goodbye) you were bigger than the whole sky - TBA

chapter nine: I know the end (the end is near) - TBA

#rebel suns #my fics #cassian andor #cassian andor fic #cassian andor fanfiction #cassian andor smut #cassian andor angst #cassian andor fluff #andor fic #andor fanfiction #cassian andor x female reader #cassian andor x reader #cassian andor x you #rogue one fic #rogue one fanfiction #rogue one #andor #tw: death #tw: torture

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tenelkadjowrites · 2 years ago

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I Want You Back (Cassian Andor x Reader) - NSFW

💬 Summary: When your ex-boyfriend, Cassian Andor, stumbles to your apartment wounded, it brings back not only memories of your time together but a promise of something starting anew.

💬 Word count: 12.7k

💬 Genre & warnings: one shot smut. fem pronouns for reader. exes to lovers. mentions of blood and injuries. drinking. dirty talk (a LOT of it). reader is called sweetheart a couple of times and slut once. oral sex, reader receiving. unprotected sex. creampie.

💬 Tags: @thewonderofkpop - @obligatoryidolblog - @violetwinters - (I’m not doing my usual tag list for this fic given it’s in a different fandom than usual, you can lemme know if you want to be added for any future Star Wars fics)

You stare at the door, holding your breath, waiting. I might’ve dreamt it, you think but the way your heart is racing makes you believe otherwise. Your blaster is cold in your hands, a grim reminder of what you might have to do. The only source of light is leaking through the shuttered window in the living area. Your entire apartment complex is cramped and indoors; only artificial light can enter here.

The knocking comes again. It is heavy, more of a thud. Your chest is like ice, your legs moving forward before your brain can stop it. Living on the outskirts of the galaxy your entire life, you know how to handle your own but that doesn’t mean you derive any pleasure from doing so.

Your finger hovers over the trigger as your free hand slams down on the button to open the door. It glides open soundlessly –

“Cassian?” You blink in shock at the sight of someone you never thought you’d see again in your doorway.

He is slumped against the doorframe, one hand underneath his jacket. There is a sheen of sweat on his forehead, his hair stuck against his skin which has a sickly pallor. He looks as if he is crumbling underneath his own weight.

Cassian tries to smile but it looks forced and pained. “Did I wake you?”

“Uhm, yes. It’s the middle of the night,” You frown, whispering, “You look like shit.”

“I feel like shit. Can I come in?”

Even though he looks like hell, you hesitate. Maybe it is selfish but the last thing you feel like dealing with currently is your ex-boyfriend showing up in your new life, bringing in who knows what sort of hell with him. You had spent so long trying to forget him after things went to shit and now to find him right outside your apartment…

Cassian moves his hand out of his jacket and you can see his fingers are smeared with blood. It dawns on you only then that he is injured. The sight of the blood kicks you into gear from years of training.

“Hurry up before someone sees you,” The words are gruff and unpleasant but Cassian doesn’t seem to notice nor care because he lurches forward on the final bit of energy he has and is over the threshold.

Cassian slumps forward and you catch him quickly before he can strike the floor. The door seals behind him as your blaster drops to the floor when you take on his weight. He is familiar yet different; the weight of him sturdier than in the past, his frame harder, more stubble on his chin than you’ve seen before. It is like looking at a painting through water and trying to make out all the individual bits of what makes it feel so personal.

You manage to get Cassian successfully to the living room before his legs give out. He is splayed on the couch at an awkward angle which you have no time to adjust because you’ve scurried off to find your med kit.

After you told Cassian that the relationship didn’t work, that the chaos burning inside him without an outlet proved to be too exhausting for you, your mind had drifted to him often in the weeks that followed. You wondered what his life was like without you around, wondered if he was happier without you and if he regretted how things went.

It took a long time to get over him. And now here he was, bleeding all over your cramped and small living room in the middle of the night with no explanation – including how he knew that you lived here.

Returning to Cassian, you motion to the jacket that he still has on. “Come on, I can’t see your injury with the jacket.”

Cassian has managed to right himself in the short time you ducked out of the room. He is slumped on the couch, his head rolled back, breathing labored.

Still, he shifts enough to shrug out of his jacket which you take gingerly, making a mental note at how it has seen better days. His black shirt is wet on one side, stuck against his skin. You sit next to him, a twinge of anxiety hitting your chest. Cassian’s eyes are closed, and the sight of this brings back a storm of old memories, none of which you want to linger on.

“Do I even want to know what injured you?” Your voice wavers a little, betraying your nerves. Cassian would normally pick up on such a thing if he weren’t in his current state.

“No,” is all he mumbles.

Tentatively, you reach for his shirt, carefully peeling it upwards to expose the wound. It’s a gash, sticky with oozing blood, dark red smeared all over his abdomen. It isn’t the sight of the wound that sends your stomach churning; you work at the local clinic and have seen similar injuries more times than you can count. It is the fact it is on Cassian that makes anxiety bloom in your chest.

“I don’t have any equipment here and I don’t have any bacta. I can try to get you to the clinic –”

“No,” He rasps out and his hand reaches for yours. His skin is hot, too hot, and you realize he is feverish. “Too dangerous. Do what you can here.”

“Too dangerous? Cassian, what exactly were you doing before you got here? How did you even know where I lived?”

But his head has rolled back against the couch, eyes fluttering closed, too weak to reply. Knowing that you would get no answers now, all you can do is go to work on the wound and hope for the best. Exhaling slowly, you study Cassian’s face for a moment, your chest constricting. You hadn’t ever allowed yourself to think about what it would be like to see him again.

Your time with Cassian was a flurry, the sort of passion and romance that normally didn’t apply to your life. But there was a wildness with Cassian that at the same time meant it was impossible to pin him down. He had no desire for cozy nights in, always on the move as if there were a target on his back, running from his past and sidelining his future. Eventually, it grew more exhausting to deal with that versus the passion, sex and love you felt for him.

But that didn’t erase history nor did it erase your feelings for him. As you work, your mind flashes through a set of memories: seeing Cassian when you were introduced to him, the expression on his face when first kissing you, the way he’d slink into the apartment in the dead of night after doing universe knows what, how he would storm out in the morning when the two of you would fight again, the sex that would follow, only for the cycle to start again. Cassian seemed empty and even your love couldn’t fill it – a hard lesson to learn and one that ultimately ended with you leaving.

And now…

Well, now, it is up to you to make sure your ex-boyfriend makes it through the night.

At some point after patching Cassian up to the best of your ability, you doze off next to him. The next time your eyes open, you aren’t sure what time it is and for a split second, you can’t remember how you ended up on the couch.

But the sight of Cassian brings the memories flooding back, the adrenaline hitting as if you just drank some caf. To your relief, his breathing has steadied. Gingerly, you reach out to touch his forehead. He’s still a little too warm but not as feverish as a few hours ago. Your fingers linger there and you gently push some of his hair off his forehead, studying his face. You wish that there wasn’t this tidal wave of emotions when looking at him, no feelings of fondness, no memories to contend with.

Cassian stirs and your hand flies back to your lap. You hope he didn’t catch your moment of tenderness because you aren’t sure that he would let you live it down. You’re the one that left me, you could hear him say and it sounds so real in your head that you can feel yourself withdrawing.

He shifts slightly as his eyes open groggily. You are busying yourself with the medical kit, getting ready to change the bandage on the wound, knowing that it is a serious injury and needs a lot of tending to. You are aware of Cassian’s eyes on your back, a sensation so familiar that it makes a shiver roll down your spine.

“How are you feeling?” You ask curtly.

“Like shit,” He mumbles.

“You still have a fever. Here, you need another round of medication.” The glass of water is still on the table and you turn to face Cassian, thrusting it at him.

He reaches out and the tips of his fingers brush against your skin. The touch, so minor it is nothing, knocks your insides apart, your heart banging like a gong in your chest.

“I don’t remember…” He takes a swig of the water, stopping to get the medication from you and then takes another gulp, “Don’t remember much.”

“You showed up bleeding all over my front door. I need to change your bandage now.”

“Is it bad?”

“Well, you’re doing a better now than last night so I think you’ll live but the wound can still get infected and your fever hasn’t diminished as much as I would like.”

For some reason, you cannot bring yourself to look at Cassian directly. On top of that, examining him while he’s basically unconscious is one thing. But having him awake and semi-alert as you do so makes you jittery. Gingerly, you reach out, raising up his shirt just enough to expose the bandaged wound. You’re trying not to think about all the times you held onto him here when he fucked you, trying not to remember how he sounded when he was –

“Like old times, huh?”

Your thoughts shatter, quickly flicking your gaze upwards at his face. He’s teasing me, you think half in wonder and half in frustration. You were hoping for more time before Cassian brought up the past even with a small sentence like that.

“You mean when I’d patch you up after a bar fight?” You look away, back to tending to the wound, gently peeling the bandage off.

Cassian winces as it tugs at his skin while going, “Always wanted someone who could patch me up for free.”

“Old habits die hard,” You reply wryly, examining the injury closely although you can feel his eyes on you, “You going to explain how you knew where I lived? Or what happened to injure you like this?”

It still looks bad, you muse, disliking the shiny tautness of the skin around the wound. If only you had some bacta gel…but there is none in your apartment, having used it all up on a small child who got injured in the complex two weeks ago.

There is a pause as Cassian considers what to say. You know he is debating lying because the tiny bits of himself he allows others to see are not given freely. You once had access but in the passing of the years, you don’t know what he feels comfortable with anymore. Cassian is good at gambling, drinking, burying his feelings in the search for fun, in the search for something to blot out the burning in his heart that seemed to spill out of him in a rage against the universe. You have no clue if that’s changed, how much he’s changed, but when your gaze shifts to meet his, the silence seems to grow longer.

“It’s better if you don’t know,” He settles on, a finality in his tone that brokers no further conversation.

You never heeded the tone before and you won’t now. “Are you mixed up in something bad? You piss someone off?”

“I told you, it’s safer if you don’t know.”

“No, you said it’s better if I don’t know. Now you’re telling me that it’s safer.”

You are examining the wound, fingers touching his bare skin, still wishing for bacta gel. You aren’t convinced it isn’t going to get infected by the look of it. Cassian is quiet again. There is something more withdrawn about him now than before although you chalk it up to the breakup.

When he doesn’t reply, you go, “I should really get you down to the clinic and do some proper work on this injury. You still have a fever and I can’t tell if the wound is getting infected. On top of that, it could heal slowly, possibly leave a scar.”

“No,” The word comes out harsh and fast, “No, I’ll stay here.”

Narrowing your eyes, you ask, “Why? Why can’t you come to the clinic?”

“I came here for discretion. Not to be paraded through the town square to the clinic.”

“No one is parading you around, Cassian,” You frown, “What aren’t you telling me?”

“You can bring supplies from the clinic, can’t you? Or are there checkpoints? Will they question you about bringing things from the clinic?”

His tone is leaving you more confused than ever. There is an urgency and roughness to the questions that make you worry Cassian is in over his head although you can’t imagine what a security checkpoint would have to do with anything.

“Typically, no there aren’t checkpoints.”

“There might be today,” He says grimly, “I’ll wait for you.”

“What aren’t you telling me?” You demand yet again.

To your surprise, Cassian reaches out for your hand. He grips it tightly, sending a jolt through your skin that seems to sizzle. He is looking at you urgently and for a split second, you grow fearful that he has truly gotten in over his head.

“The less you know the better. Will you trust me on this? It’s for your safety.”

You want to argue that Cassian doesn’t get to decide what keeps you safe or not. But his eyes, those puppy dog eyes that have driven you around the bend more than once in both sex and arguments, brings you up short. Instead of fighting, you nod once indicating that the conversation is shelved…for now.

He relaxes, leaning back against the couch, eyes closing. His grip on your hand lessens, allowing you to go back to work on doing what you can to clean up the wound and change the bandages before you deem the work complete, standing up.

“I’ll head to the clinic now and come back as quickly as I can. I’m worried about infection settling in if I don’t get some bacta on it,” You grab your jacket, hurriedly getting ready, wondering how quickly you can make the trip.

Cassian says your name softly, drawing your attention. It is strange to see him on the couch; you never once thought that he would be in your new apartment. He has tugged his shirt back down, his skin still looking a little pale. For the first time it hits you that if he hadn’t come to your place last night, where would he have gone? It’s clear that he didn’t want to go to any sort of medical bay or even your clinic. If he wasn’t here, would he be dying in an alleyway somewhere? The thought leaves a bitter taste of fear in your mouth.

“Be careful,” is all he says before closing his eyes.

You give one last look at him and leave.

The walk to the clinic makes it immediately evident that there is something going on. There are imperial patrols on every street, the layer of fear across the city is like a thick cloak, and there are more security checkpoints than ever.

But how did Cassian know? The thought bangs around in your brain the entire walk to the clinic which takes double the amount of time it should. By the time you arrive, your nerves are on edge and you’re in no mood for small talk.

The clinic is quiet this late morning with just one medic on duty, patching up someone’s broken arm. The patient is complaining loudly when you enter.

“Asshole shoved me so hard that I toppled down the flight of stairs by the market. And did nothing about it, didn’t even stop to make sure I was okay! We get punished because some captives escaped?”

As you shrug out of your jacket and your coworker says hi, you say, “Who escaped?”

“You didn’t hear?” That patient’s tone is seething, “Where have you been all morning?”

“Asleep,” You reply curtly, not in the mood to bicker with a stranger, “I don’t work today, just forgot something here.”

Your coworker looks up from the man’s arm and explains, “Someone broke out that small group of rebels being held at the garrison up near the city entrance late last night. They were supposed to be transferred this morning but now they are just scattered to the wind.”

You are thankful that your back is to your coworker and the patient because your face is unable to mask the surprise as your stomach swoops.

Trying to keep your voice as neutral as possible, you reply, “We’re expected to believe just one person broke them out of the garrison?”

“Apparently.”

The patient makes a noise of disbelief. “No way the person survived. I heard they got him pretty good but he managed to limp out of there and they lost him in the city. He’s probably dying somewhere and they’ll find his body soon enough. He’s the reason these stormtroopers are all riled up, pushing people around and breaking my arm.”

“Please stay still so I can finish,” Your coworker sounds a little bitter, adding on, “Regardless of who broke them out, the rebels got away and now we have to deal with the repercussions.”

The blood rushing to your head is very loud. You take a steady breath, packing a few items in a small cloth bag and sneaking some more in the inside pockets of your jacket. If they know Cassian is wounded, these items might raise some red flags. You suddenly understand why Cassian couldn’t leave your apartment and why he told you to be careful.

“Alright, well, I got what I needed. Told myself I’d organize all my medical supplies at my place today and naturally I forgot some,” Your voice is casual as if the extra security and escaped rebels mean nothing to you.

“They’ll find the rebels soon enough. Where will they go without running into a blockade? I don’t think the person breaking them out had any sort of proper plan. Just wanted to stick it to the Empire.” The patient is still babbling and every word about Cassian is starting to make your clothing feel itchy against your skin.

Slipping your jacket back on, you smile blandly at your coworker. “I’ll be around more tomorrow.”

“Bye,” They reply, too focused on the fact the patient won’t keep still.

Leaving the room, you take a moment to collect yourself in the hallway. The idea of Cassian helping rebels escape, the same Cassian who seemed more likely to drink and gamble the night away, is a difficult one to wrap your head around. But there is no other explanation for him showing up injured on top of his secrecy.

You feel a flicker of anger in your chest that he has brought this situation upon you without your permission. You had been living quietly for all this time and now every moment with him around threatens to undo that. But what is the other option? Kicking him out to be caught by the Empire? No, you couldn’t do that, not to him of all people.

Exiting the building, you know that any strange expression on your face, any tension in your shoulders could spark a stormtrooper’s interest in you. Exhaling slowly, you try to keep your breathing steady as the walk home begins. You are hoping to look as nonchalant as possible, someone who is so used to imperial rule that you don’t really question the extra patrols or random security checks. A group of escaped rebels has nothing to do with you.

You are about five minutes from the apartment complex when a security checkpoint before the main entrance into the residential area pops into view. Cursing underneath your breath, you know that to turn around now would only catch their attention. The checkpoint hadn’t been there when you left.

Standing in line, you try to keep your face devoid of worry, coming up with your story about the medical supplies. They know Cassian is wounded. You think of the bacta gel hidden in your pockets. They’re going to question me.

When it is finally your turn, your heart is pounding and the palms of your hands are sweaty. Even so, you maintain an even tone when asked for your name.

One stormtrooper is running your credentials as another begins to search your bag.

“What do you need these for?” He asks, the helmet modulating his voice.

“I work at the clinic in the square,” You explain patiently, “I just keep some at home for emergencies and I like to replenish my supplies every few weeks.”

“Why?” He demands.

“Records are clean,” says the other stormtrooper.

“You never know when an emergency could hit. What if there is no possibility of getting to the clinic? All of us have our own kits in our places for times like that. We usually keep a small travel pack on us as well that needs replenishing.” You slip your hand into your inner jacket, pulling out the health kit from the pocket, hoping that it will be enough to stop them from poking around your pockets.

It is difficult to know what the stormtrooper is thinking as he studies the kit in the palm of your hand. You feel a little ill, unsure what to do if he wants to question you further. But the line behind you has grown as people are grumbling about the new checkpoint.

You want to keep talking but are aware that will only make you look as if there is something to hide. Remaining silent after your explanation, you wait.

“Records did say she works at the clinic,” The other stormtrooper remarks as if to prod things along.

Another moment passes. He’s not going to believe me, not with the timing –

“Fine, go.” He jerks his head towards the residential district.

You nod, making sure to keep the speed of your walk the same, putting your health kit back in your jacket. You can feel the stormtrooper’s gaze linger on you almost as if he regrets letting you pass. Something is tickling at his brain, some question he wants to ask, but it is obvious the other stormtrooper doesn’t see it as he does and wants to focus on the line forming instead.

Once you push past the doors, your shoulders slouch a little, your pace quickening. All you want to do is get back to your apartment. The fear that is hanging over the city today is much worse than usual. It is like the escape of the rebels is going to be made everyone’s problem.

The interior of the complex is flooded with the usual ugly, harsh lighting that your eyes have grown accustomed to. It has many floors, with the small apartments shoved close to one another to hold as many people as possible. The building is run down but overall clean. Every hallway is identical and it is a wonder Cassian stumbled around here and ended up at your place without being caught or reported.

You arrive at your apartment, stepping inside. You hear a familiar sound, immediately causing you to pull out the blaster hidden in one of your pockets, raising it –

Only to see it is Cassian with his own raised. He immediately relaxes upon seeing you.

“Are you trying to kill me?” You snap, your tension leaking out into your words as the door seals behind you.

“Had to make sure it was you.”

He is standing but his legs look wobbly. The entire trip couldn’t have taken more than an hour but he still doesn’t look well. Lowering the blaster, you hurry over to Cassian, ushering him back to the couch, plucking his own weapon from his hand.

Cassian slumps back onto the couch, wincing slightly as he sits, his hand going to his side. As you empty out the medical supplies, you cannot stop from biting out, “Were you going to tell me that you helped rebels escape? Or just bring this hell on me without any warning?”

Cassian is eyeing you carefully, weighing his words. You are frustrated, not only by the situation but this version of your ex that is brand new, doing things you never dreamt he could do.

Unable to stop yourself, the words tumble from your mouth. “Did you think I wouldn’t hear of it? Someone breaking out a bunch of rebels, getting wounded and losing stormtroopers in the city? Did you think I wouldn’t figure it out? There was a checkpoint before the residential district and I think it was only my clean record that got me through because the stormtrooper didn’t seem entirely convinced I needed these supplies just to restock.” Your hands are shaking, you realize, as one of the bacta gels tumble out of your hand and lands loudly on the table. “You just show up here – I haven’t heard from you in years and you think it’s okay to just �� fuck, Cassian, did you think at all of what this was going to bring down on me?”

The last sentence makes his eyes blaze, leaning forward, his voice hot. “You think I wanted to show up here in the middle of the night? That I didn’t consider other options? I had nowhere else to go that would offer safety and someone to make sure I didn’t die in the street!”

“How did you even know I lived here?! What are you wrapped up in that you’re not telling me?!” Your voice is too loud – dimly, you are aware that it should be softer but your agitation is clouding your brain.

Cassian grits his teeth, his hand going to his wound, momentarily thrown off by a burst of pain. You sit down next to him, pulling the medical kit into your lap while gesturing to him wildly.

“Take off your shirt, I need to clean this out again. Properly this time,” You take a deep breath, lowering your voice, trying to collect yourself, “And as I do so, you’re going to explain everything going on.”

Cassian goes to pull his shirt off but when he lifts up his arm with the wounded side, he winces, inhaling sharply through his teeth. You reach out, helping him remove it, refusing to let your brain bring back memories of late nights involving the same motion for very different reasons.

Even so, the sight of Cassian shirtless leaves you briefly flustered and then surprised at the various markings along his arm, some along his abdomen that you hadn’t noticed in the hustle and bustle of tending to the injury prior. A lot of injuries, a lot of scars, a lot of stories here that started after I left. Who is this man in front of you? It no longer feels like your ex at all.

He is looking at you steadily, watching your expression change as you take in the sight of him before he finally says, “You already know the answer to everything you’re wondering.”

“Do you know how dangerous it is?”

“I do.”

“You’re lucky that you didn’t die last night. To break into the garrison like that and come out alive…”

“Because of you,” He shifts slightly, just enough so that he is angled towards you. “I had no plans to see you. I just knew your location as a final emergency plan. I didn’t think I’d use it.”

You want to ask more – how Cassian got swept up in working for the rebellion, why he did so, how much danger is he in regularly – but all the questions seem pointless. Cassian had always been restless, running from the past, ignoring the future. Maybe he just figured out that it was time to stop running. Perhaps it is selfish against the greater cause but you wish he decided to stop running and become a moisture farmer or something instead of a rebel spy leaping into dangerous situations.

Cassian’s voice is soft but firm as he continues speaking, “There were a few more guards at the garrison than our intel originally said. By the time I lost them, I knew I was too injured to go to the rendezvous point. You were the closest person I could get medical assistance from. I didn’t intend to put you in danger or pull you into anything.”

“I know,” You mumble, leaning forward to begin working on his injury, “I just was scared from the checkpoint.”

“I didn’t think they would tighten security so hard.”

“They think you’re still in the city and that you’re dying in a ditch somewhere, easy to find and finish off. Let’s just hope they don’t figure out your identity because they’ll come knocking here first thing.”

Cassian chews on this silently. For a little while there is no noise other than you cleaning out the injury carefully, smearing a goop of bacta gel on top of it and watching it do its work. You feel a tingle of relief knowing that Cassian will recover now without the worry of infection.

“That was a nasty wound,” You remark to finally break the silence, “What happened? Didn’t look like just a blaster bullet.”

“Got nicked by a blaster and then lost my footing, slammed into something sharp, don’t know what it was. Things were a little too frantic to tell and my vision went white. Rest of that is a blur,” He hesitates, “I barely remember making the conscious decision to come here.”

“Old habits die hard, right?” You quote from the morning.

The corners of Cassian’s mouth twist upwards for a moment in an almost smile. “You always were good at patching me up.”

Your cheeks grow warm, much to your embarrassment. Still, you brush the comment off by going, “Well, this was a little more complicated than any of your silly bar fights.”

“Even so, you still took care of it.”

His tone sounds serious now and unable to help yourself, you look at him. It is strange being this close to Cassian again and the fact he is shirtless now truly hits you. All the memories you attempted to fend off come flooding back – the times you’d be in his lap, your fingers grazing along his shoulders, his lips on your neck, his hands pressing against your lower back as he would talk dirty. No one ever quite spoke as filthy as Cassian did, no one could ever make you finish just from talking to you in the manner he did.

But that was the old Cassian, the one who wasn’t working for the rebellion, the one who was in love with you.

“Well, if I ever show up at your doorstep wounded, I expect the same treatment.”

This time he does actually laugh a little, that familiar twinkle in his eyes making your stomach twist. “I don’t think you’d want that. You and I both know my hands aren’t good for that sort of thing.”

The comment knocks the wind out of you. Is Cassian flirting? Or is he simply deflecting? It is difficult to know what he means by such a thing. All you know for sure is that it makes your heart skip a beat and you hate that it does.

“Well, the bacta gel should help a lot, on top of rest and medication. Hope you don’t have any plans because you’re going to be here for a few days.” You stand up, eager to remove yourself from the close proximity of him.

“By that time, they’ll figure I escaped the city and will ease restrictions enough I can slip out.”

“What happened to the others? None have been recaptured.”

“I got confirmation they made it to the rendezvous point. I was the only one who didn’t,” Cassian looks a little awkward before adding, “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable and I’m sorry if I am while staying here.”

“I won’t lie, it is…different having you back, Cass,” The old nickname slips out and you curse inwardly, “It isn’t as if we’ve been talking since things ended. But I’m not going to kick you out in the street to get snatched up by the Empire either.”

He looks relieved. “I appreciate it.”

“Yeah, well…” You trail off, not knowing what to say, “You should get some sleep. It’ll help you heal.”

Cassian nods, stretching out on the couch. He doesn’t even ask for a blanket which only makes you wonder what sort of sleeping conditions he’s had over the past few years. “Good idea.”

You turn around to head into your room, digging around for a few seconds before pulling an old blanket out of a drawer. But by the time you come back to Cassian, he is fast asleep. Clearly, the injury is still taking it’s toll on him.

Standing awkwardly in the living room, the fabric of the blanket soft against your fingers, you stare at your ex on the couch. He hadn’t put his shirt back on and his pants are riding low on his hips. Visually arrested by the sight, you are aware that you’re staring. But your feet are rooted to the spot. How many times have you seen Cassian sleep like this? Hundreds, surely.

But Cassian is different now; physically he is in better shape with scars across his skin and mentally he is more focused and driven on something you didn’t think he’d ever topple into. There is no crossing the living room and waking him up with kisses, not anymore.

Quietly, you place the blanket on the table next to Cassian and go to your room, needing some space from him and the memories.

The next three days involve you trying to spend as little time around Cassian as possible. You spend long hours at the clinic, checking on Cassian before your shift and before bed. Conversations are to a minimum, time with him as short as possible because you grow fearful that the memories are going to blur your present. Your time with him is done and finished. There is no going back, especially now that Cassian is swept up in the rebellion.

One of the driving factors of leaving him was that you needed some sort of emotional stability with the person you’re with. Cassian, with the fire burning in his chest and no focus for it, proved to be too chaotic of a fit for what you wanted. There would be no such emotional stability with Cassian, a hard truth to swallow.

That’s what you tell yourself every night before going to sleep anyway. In the late nights where you can hear Cassian unable to sleep, occasionally caving and watching one of the holos you have, your mind wanders to memories and a warm desire in between your legs. You wish that your body still didn’t respond to the way he looked at you or that just the casual way he hands you a cup of caf in the morning didn’t remind you of all the previous ones spent together.

To make matters worse, you are positive that the amount of anguish Cassian is experiencing from being around you is close to zero. Sure, it was evident the first day or so that he felt a little awkward. But now, he acted at ease in every conversation.

Of course, Cassian had always been an excellent liar, something that would have been honed if he was running around with the rebellion.

All you knew was that if you had to see him shirtless one more time, you might actually lose it.

“It’s healing well and your mobility has improved a lot,” You say one evening, after a twelve hour shift at the clinic, “In a couple of days, you should be good to go. Well, ‘good to go’ as in mostly recovered, not walk out right into a group of stormtroopers.”

Cassian moves his arm a little, leaving you thankful that his shirt is on for this checkup. He then tugs down his shirt to cover the injury. “How is it out there?”

“Loosening up, going back to the regular number of patrols. Give it a day or two and I think they’ll be shifting to scour outside the city for you. There are rumors you escaped,” You hesitate and then ask, “Where are you going to go?”

“It’s better for you not to know. You already know more than I am comfortable with in regards to your safety.” He stands up, moving towards the tiny kitchen.

You bite down hard on your bottom lip, swallowing all the other questions you want to ask. His logic makes sense but suddenly the idea of Cassian vanishing into the void makes you feel…well, you aren’t sure.

Cassian rummaging around in the kitchen draws you out of your thoughts, going to join him. “Can I ask why you’re going through my kitchen?”

“Was looking for, ah, here it is,” He pulls out a bottle of whiskey that you didn’t even remember buying, “Looking for some sort of alcohol. Although I didn’t think you’d own this.”

“You’re drinking?”

“Sure,” He replies, “Where are your glasses?”

Clicking your tongue against the roof of your mouth, you push past him, getting a couple. He arches one eyebrow slightly at the sight of two.

“You never liked whiskey.” He shakes the bottle a little, looking perplexed.

“That was over five years ago. Things change.” Your tone is pointed.

His gaze lingers on your face for a few seconds before going, “I suppose they do.”

And Cassian pours the whiskey into both glasses.

Three hours later, you are very drunk.

One drink led to another, loosening the awkward feeling around Cassian into one of familiarity. The alcohol wiped clean the fact Cassian now worked with the rebellion, wiped out the fear of hiding him in your apartment, wiped out even the breakup five years ago.

At some point during the drinking, you’ve ended up on the floor with your back against the couch. Cassian is next to you, one hand around his whiskey glass although he is slumped forward a little from laughing too hard. Your body is warm all over, a combination of the booze and being next to him.

“Why are you laughing?” You demand even though you’re laughing as well.

“Because the look on your face when I lied to the shopkeeper – I still see it so clearly,” Cassian manages to say in between laughing at the memory of some random drunken incident from a long time ago.

“You’re supposed to let me in on the lies not allow me to walk right into them,” You scold before taking another sip of the whiskey which burns on the way down.

Cassian rubs his eyes to wipe the tears that formed from laughing for too long and looks at you. “You’re right, you’re right,” He pauses for a moment and adds, “I guess I broke that rule again, didn’t I?”

“Yes!” You sit up straighter, ready to lecture him, “You should’ve told me!”

“I didn’t exactly have a lot of time to,” He points out although the edges of his words are slurred from too much drinking, “The whole…injury and fever.”

You nudge him with your shoulder, “The next morning then. Before I went to the clinic.”

“I was afraid about the checkpoints,” The earlier laughter from his voice is gone, and he looks serious now, “It was safer for you not to know much.”

Logically, you know Cassian is right. But you’re too drunk for logic. “I figured I was shut out of things. Of knowing things about your life. Because of what happened between us.”

Had you moved closer to Cassian or had he moved closer to you? Things were difficult to keep straight while clouded with this much booze. Either way, the two of you are close now, as close as possible without touching. You can see the stubble grazing his jawline, the tension in his shoulders that he still carries even now, the way his hair curls slightly against the back of his neck. All familiar, all off limits.

“No,” Cassian’s voice has dropped to a whisper, “You’re not shut out of things. I just didn’t want you in danger.”

“But you’re in danger,” Your words are mushy in your mouth, difficult to get out, “You’re the one going against the Empire.”

“I chose that. I didn’t want to bring you into something without you deciding if it was wanted.”

“We don’t get a choice with the Empire,” You mumble, “Either we go along with the tide to make it easier on ourselves or we try to swim against it. But the Empire in our lives isn’t a choice. It just is.”

You have no idea if what you said makes any sense. But Cassian’s gaze grows troubled. He moves slightly and his hand that was on the floor suddenly touches yours. His skin is warm to the touch and before you can stop yourself, you curl your fingers around his hand.

“You should come with me,” He says so quietly that you have to lean even closer to make out the words, “We need medics. We need people like you.”

“I’m not cut out for that sort of thing, Cass.”

“Yes, you are,” He says firmly.

“Besides, what would that mean? Being around you all the time?” The words flow too easily, loosened by the whiskey, “Seeing you all the time?”

His thumb is grazing the top of your hand now. The small touch is making your head light. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted Cassian more than you have at this moment. But you have no right to him. He is not a part of your life any longer.

“Would that be so bad?” He teases, his voice dropping an octave.

The tone is reminiscent, too reminiscent of what Cassian would sound like before he kissed you. Your body is screaming for him. All thoughts of rebellion and the Empire are washed away with the pure desire that is overwhelming your senses.

Your foreheads are practically touching, lips so close that it would be simple to kiss him. Fucking Cassian had always been the best sex of your life. He knew exactly what you liked, knew exactly how to get you off and fuck, he had a mouth on him that would –

Cassian suddenly pulls away, giving a small shake of his head as if breaking the surface of the water. Shocked, you remain frozen in place, wondering what just happened.

“We’ve both been drinking,” He says in a shaky voice, “We both aren’t thinking clearly.”

You feel wounded at the rejection, your feelings hurt even if a tiny sober part of you is trying to yell that Cassian is correct in neither one of you thinking clearly.

But you refuse to let him know the impact almost kissing him had on you nor the sting of rejection. Pulling your hand away from his, you try to breezily say, “True. I don’t think I’m cut out for the rebellion but I appreciate the sales pitch.”

On wobbly legs, you manage to stand, looking down at Cassian. There is an expression behind his beautiful eyes that you cannot make out but your brain is too hazy to do so anyway.

“I should get some sleep. Goodnight, Cass.”

Cassian, for once, doesn’t have any witty retort or casual goodnight. You leave in silence, wanting nothing more than to have him again but knowing he doesn’t want the same.

In the harsh morning light, you want to hide under the blankets forever given your memory of the night before. The drunken camaraderie had been one thing, even Cassian discussing the rebellion with you was understandable but the almost kiss…

You’re standing under the hot water of the shower, letting it run over your skin in an attempt to batter your headache away. You weren’t scheduled for a shift at the clinic today and Cassian could not yet leave. You don’t know how to spend an entire day around him. You could come up with an excuse to head out for the day but the idea of dodging stormtroopers and dealing with that anxiety doesn’t seem ideal either.

By the time you’re out of the shower, mostly dry and changed in clean clothes, you’re dying for some caf. Taking a deep breath, you step out of your room. Cassian is in the kitchen, his hair mussy from sleep, looking over in your direction sleepily.

“Did you just wake up?” You ask.

He nods, stifling a yawn. “I think I feel well enough to use your shower, if that’s okay.”

“Yeah, of course.”

“I was making some caf,” He presses the button to turn the machine on, “I haven’t drank that much in ages.”

“Me either and now I remember why I stopped,” You rub your forehead, wishing to be rid of the headache.

Cassian seems to hesitant for a moment before changing his mind on whatever he planned on saying, instead going, “I’ll take that shower now.”

He walks by you quickly, almost as if he is scurrying. Could it be he’s embarrassed about last night? Surely not. More than likely, he is embarrassed for you and the fact you almost kissed your ex. Grabbing a mug, you get the caf, standing by the counter and losing yourself in thoughts of Cassian, the past and how he could still elicit such a reaction out of you.

You aren’t sure how long your mind wanders because the next second, Cassian calls out from your bedroom, “Do you have any clothes I could borrow that might fit me?”

“Maybe in the bottom right drawer? I don’t know,” You reply.

There is some rummaging around in your room and then a few minutes later he comes out. The sight of him makes you laugh and he looks perturbed.

“Don’t,” He warns.

“The pajama bottoms are okay but that shirt is way too small for you.”

Cassian looks down at himself. The shirt is probably two sizes too small, sticking to him like a second skin, showing off his toned chest in a manner that would be districting if he didn’t look so ridiculous. He scowls, crossing the room to get some caf.

“I didn’t pack any overnight clothes for the breakout, silly me,” He mumbles.

“We can clean your little rebellion uniform today so you’re not wearing that all day.”

Cassian’s hair is still wet from the shower, his back to you as he drinks his caf. He makes a noise of irritation and rolls his shoulders uncomfortably which only shows off his muscles.

“Forget it,” He finally says to himself and then begins to try to remove the too tight shirt off him.

He manages to get it successfully almost over his shoulders before it is too tight to fully yank off. Even though Cassian being stuck in the shirt is funny, you grow concerned about him opening his wound and go over to help. Reaching up, you successfully pull the shirt off.

“I’ll just wait until my clothes are cleaned,” He says with an annoyed shake of his head.

You are holding the shirt in your hands, trying not to stare at him casually drinking caf in your kitchen while shirtless. You couldn’t handle Cassian drunk, you couldn’t handle him sober – and you had been the one to end the relationship, for fucks sake.

Maybe you are giving off an awkward energy or something because he glances over at you, back at his mug and then back at you. He then puts the mug down with a heavy thunk, moving in your direction.

“What?” He asks.

“Nothing.”

“You keep looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

Cassian is close to you now but this time you’re both sober. You are clenching the shirt in your hands so tightly that you worry about tearing the fabric. Cassian’s chest, covered in large and small scars, tell a story that you have no knowledge of, indisputable proof of the passage of time you play no part in – but the worst part is that you find yourself wanting to know all the stories.

Cassian places one hand on either side of you, gripping the counter. The warmth of his body and seeing him shirtless seems to spark an awakening once more in your body. Your thighs clench and the shirt in your hands becomes some sort of shield between the two of you.

“Like you detest me being here but also can’t stop thinking about me,” He says gruffly, his eyes dropping to look at your lips, his eyelashes wet smears against his skin.

“That’s not true,” You lie weakly.

“Is that why you wanted to kiss me last night?” He says ruthlessly.

You want to melt into the floor and are momentarily struck silent. You don’t know how to respond because your desire for him is blocking out all rational thought. You desperately want to touch Cassian, just to feel his skin underneath your hands, to have his lips on yours once again.

He keeps going, “But you’re the one that ended things, remember?”

“I remember,” You try to make your voice like stone but it sounds frail to your ears, “Don’t act like I don’t remember. You make it sound as if the choice were easy for me, as if it didn’t eat me up inside.”

Cassian leans forward, still not touching you. You think that he is going to discuss the breakup further, talk about how painful it was and how it felt to end things after all the ups and downs.

Instead, as his lips hover just above your ear, he whispers, “Tell me, has anyone fucked you as good as I did since we broke up?”

Your eyes close tightly, your pussy growing wet. His impact on you is dizzying. You hadn’t realized just what he could do to you until after things ended and you slept with others. None had been like Cassian.

“Have any of them figured out what makes you tick? Did any of them realize what really gets you off is a dirty mouth?” His lilting accent mixed with his own desire is enough to make you crumble and beg for him.

“Cass, I…” You swallow hard, trying your best to form a sentence.

“I could hear you tossing and turning last night,” His voice is still a whisper, “Were you remembering all the times I fucked you? All the times I used my mouth to make you cum?”

You’re so turned on that it is impossible to think clearly. Cassian has always used his clever mind to come up with the most filthy dirty talk anyone has ever spoken to you, something that no one has even been able to live up against. You just had assumed that you never would hear him talk like this again.

You manage to wrangle enough brainpower to go, “You wanted to kiss me last night too, didn’t you? That’s why you’re trying to fuck me right now.”

Cassian moves away from your ear. For a second, you wonder if you’ve pushed things too far – hilarious, given the way he is talking to you – but the expression on his face shows otherwise. He is looking at you with pure lust, those gorgeous brown eyes of his so familiar in the way they study your face. His hair is drying slowly, forming those small curls that you’ve grabbed ahold of when he would go down on you.

Yes, the universe knows that you broke up with Cassian. But would it be so wrong to throw that out the window for the day and fuck him?

“You broke up with me, remember?” He repeats carefully, studying your face, “I never stopped wanting you.”

With that declaration, you throw caution out the window, bringing your arms around his neck to pull him in to kiss you. Your lips crush against his as your fingers go to his wet hair, giving it a sharp tug. Cassian groans in your mouth, a sound so familiar that it threatens to devour your head entirely with passion. Your skin is tingling, each nerve in your body awake from a long sleep without him.

You love the taste of him in your mouth and the way his hands press on your lower back so that you are pushed against him. You can feel his desperation, echoing past times of kissing like this. But there is something a little different in Cassian’s kisses now – an edge that speaks to the sort of life he lives now. Danger at every corner, unsure of what the next morning would bring, and how to deal with whatever happens – it shows through his kisses that now have an urgency and wild undercurrent to them.

The two of you are stumbling towards the bedroom, the caf forgotten. Cassian pulls off your shirt and it lands somewhere in the living room. He is stiff against your thigh as he kisses you again, nipping at your bottom lip with his teeth. The back of your legs strike your bed frame and you lose your footing, landing on the bed.

Cassian doesn’t waste any time, undressing you until you’re just in a flimsy pair of underwear. His lips drag against every inch of your skin, his hands electric against your body. He bites down on one your nipples just to make you gasp.

“You remember the one night you wore that tiny dress at the cantina and teased me for hours?” He says as he fondles your tits, his thumbs grazing your nipples.

You did. You thought Cassian was going to bring you home and fuck the hell out of you which is not…exactly what happened.

He keeps going, “And by the end of the night, you were the one begging for me to fuck you.”

Cassian is pulling your underwear off now, tossing them over his shoulder and gently spreading your legs apart. You remember quite clearly how the night went and what he did –

“What did I tell you when we got home that night?” He prompts and when you open your mouth to reply, he talks along with you, “I said I could make you cum with two licks of my tongue against your clit. And I did, didn’t I?”

The memory makes your cheeks hot. At the time, you thought it was typical Cassian bravado. But your orgasm had been so intense that you didn’t doubt he could do such a thing again now.

His hands are rubbing your thighs, very slowly as if there is all the time in the world now to talk to you. “I’ve improved since then so…I think I can make you cum with one lick.”

You scoff, unable to help your bewilderment. “That’s ridiculous even for you.”

Cassian’s grin is so fast that you may have imagined it if you didn’t know him like you do. He straightens up, keeping his hands on your knees so that you’re spread in front of him. His hair is a little messy from the way you grabbed it during all the kissing, his broad shoulders and well toned chest enough to make you want to beg for him just to skip to fucking you.

But you know that he would never do such a thing because he derives too much pleasure in watching you squirm underneath him, too much pleasure in running his mouth off.

“Is that so?” He asks, “Because unless you’ve changed a lot in the past few years, I know that all you need is me talking to get you to cum.”

You don’t reply because what is there to refute? Cassian had always been able to get you off the hardest when he talked dirty, seemingly knowing every word that pressed your buttons the most and made you cum the strongest. No one else figured that out – fuck, you weren’t even aware of it yourself until dating him.

And you’d be lying if you didn’t admit how much it was missed.

“Your pussy is still as pretty as I remember it,” He says almost affectionally, “I wonder if it will still feel as good wrapped around my cock. I used to love when you’d sit in my lap with my cock buried in your hole, remember that?” You breath catches at the memory: the way you would rock your hips against him as his fingers would trail down across your back until neither one could wait any longer and you’d start bouncing in his lap.

Cassian is thinking of that too judging by the way he runs one finger down along your inner thigh, watching the way you shiver. “You know what makes your pussy look even prettier?” He doesn’t wait for your answer. “When it’s filled with my load, leaking my cum. And it always did, didn’t it? Because I made sure to fill up your pretty pussy every time you begged for it.”

It’s striking you just how much you missed Cassian talking in this manner. You realize belatedly that you’d been looking for a lover to talk dirty like this in the years since the breakup but it isn’t just the words that mattered – you wanted Cassian.

You weren’t aware that you’ve been squirming until he goes, “This is difficult for me too, sweetheart,” The pet name he always used for you in bed rolls off his tongue so smoothly that you don’t think he even notices, “Do you think it’s easy for me seeing your pussy this wet for me and I can’t bury my face in it? It punishes me as much as you.”

He isn’t lying. Cassian is partial to eating pussy, another benefit to having dated him, and yet another thing missing from lovers that came afterwards. In fact, being with him again like this is starting to blur out all the very valid reasons the relationship didn’t work out, leaving you wondering why in the universe you thought breaking up with Cassian had been a good idea.

“And you know there’s nothing more I love than worshiping your pretty pink hole,” Cassian goes on, his fingers moving in slow, soft circles against your thighs. “Don’t worry, I remember all the buttons to press with you. I know the way you like to be spoken to and the way you like to be fucked best – soft and slow, right? With me on top, pressing against you as I pump my cock in your tight cunt while I whisper in your ear.”

You can hardly stand the way his tongue isn’t against your clit right now. Every inch of your body is screaming for more alongside all the memories of fucking him. Cassian’s index finger moves tantalizingly close to your clit but he stops just above. His gaze flicks upwards to look at you squirming with one hand clutching the quilt to steady yourself.

“Did you miss me?” He suddenly asks, his fingers resuming their soft trail against your skin, away from your pussy, “Did you think of me, even for a moment, when you fucked someone else?”

It’s unfair of him to ask such questions when your mind is in a fog and you can’t come up with something clever to say.

“I know I probably shouldn’t admit this,” His voice hangs in the air, dangling a confession in front of you, “But I’ve thought of you. I’ve never known anyone’s body like I’ve known yours and I don’t think I will again.”

Cassian’s grip on your thighs tighten, keeping your legs spread. His eyes look like dark clouds on the horizon, a mingle of lust and memories. Your own brain is swirling, wanting more of him, remembering how it used to feel with his cock fully inside you as he rocked his hips.

“I don’t think I’ll ever meet someone else who has a pussy made for me,” He is lowering his face towards your cunt now, his voice even as though he is completely confident in making you cum, “Someone who is my perfect little slut.”

The use of slut sends a shiver through your body immediately. Cassian has always used the word sparingly because it always drives the biggest reaction out of you, your body responding to the usage of the word in dirty talk before your mind can even wrap around it. He wouldn’t devalue the power it has to turn you on by overusing it and since it had been years, the impact of the word makes you gasp –

And Cassian immediately lowers his head, his tongue flat against your swollen clit, giving one hard flick against it. The dirty talk, the use of slut and his tongue has you climaxing immediately in one loud moan. Your back arches, your pussy against Cassian’s face as you cum. Your thighs shake, your eyes closing tightly as his name tumbles from your lips.

It would be impossible for anyone but Cassian to work you up with his words so much that he could make you finish like this. The orgasm is the strongest you’ve had in ages, perhaps since the last time you were with him. It blots out everything but Cassian and when your hips fall back onto the bed, he is looking particularly pleased with himself.

You prop yourself up a little to look at him. Your entire body is tingling as the orgasm fades. Cassian, with his broad shoulders, tanned skin and toned chest, looks better than you can ever recall. Instead of sating your desire, the orgasm only has made you want him more.

He smiles slowly, crawling forward, bringing his body against yours as he speaks, “Well, look at that. I guess I can make you finish with just one lick.”

He kisses you before a reply can be uttered. You can taste yourself on his lips. His stiff cock strains against the pajama bottoms he is still wearing. You are fumbling with the top of them, trying to pull them off. He laughs against your mouth but kicks them and his boxers off swiftly.

Languidly, Cassian brings his body back against yours. Skin to skin like this with him makes your head swim. Your heart is racing, fingertips skirting along his back, feeling the difference in his skin from the years that passed. Your fingers touch bumps and indents in the skin that weren’t there previously, a landscape of time marked on his skin.

When his lips find yours yet again, his tongue in your mouth, his stubble grazes against your skin. You’ve detested the sensation on everyone but Cassian – he was always the exception to everything. Instinctively, you curl your legs around his waist. His cock is at your entrance now. You know how he is going to fuck you – in the slow, soft quiet way he would fuck you after an argument where his voice would once again lull you to an orgasm.

Cassian enters you slowly, allowing you to feel each inch of his girth fill up your hole. You squeeze around his length automatically and his breath catches. When he is finally fully inside, the kiss breaks as he brings his arms underneath your back. His hands grip the sheets near your head. There is not a spot between the two of you that isn’t touching.

Cassian leaves a trail of kisses along your jawline, stopping to tug gently on your earlobe with his teeth. He has not moved yet, remaining still inside you. You luxuriate in the sensation of having Cassian again. Your hands are resting on his broad shoulders, eyes closed with pleasure.

Cassian moves his hips so slightly that if you hadn’t done this with him a thousand times before you wouldn’t have noticed. But the touch is like fire rolling through you – the most wonderful fire possible. You know that you’re whimpering but Cassian has always loved your small noises of pleading.

In a soft, deep voice, Cassian begins to speak honeyed words in your ear, “You remember that week we ran off to Canto Bight? We didn’t tell anyone where we were going, just left.”

You do remember. It was a year or so into the relationship. Hazy with love for one another, there had been no planning involved. Life kept getting in the way and you only wanted Cassian. The week was a blur of gambling, drinking and sex. The memory was something that belonged to a holo, not your own life.

Cassian is still very slowly moving his hips. He isn’t fully thrusting, just making small movements, enough to begin to work you up. His own breathing is shaky as he tries to control himself from pounding into you.

“I remember fucking you in front of the window of the hotel room. Twenty floors up and you didn’t care who saw you,” He goes on in a taunt voice, knowing full well that you love nothing more than being fucked like this, listening to him whisper in your ear, “You had just the necklace I bought you on, draped across your tits.”

“I remember,” You gasp out, eyes fluttering closed at the memory.

“When I came, it was all over your stomach so if anyone was watching they could see you covered in my cum.” Cassian moves a little faster now, fully pulling out of your cunt before lowering his hips to go all the way back in. The slow and deliberate pace is making you squirm against him but he doesn’t alter it.

“And every morning before we left the room, I’d bend you over and fuck you in the shower,” He continues relentlessly, “I’d watch your tight hole swallow up my cock until I’d empty my balls in you. That was my favourite trip, you know.”

You whimper, thighs clenching at the memory. It doesn’t matter how much you wiggle against him, Cassian refuses to change his speed. He knows how to make you cum better than you do.

“Do you remember when I’d cum inside you and then you’d dip your fingers in your cunt to make sure it didn’t leak out? Your pussy always looked the best like that, covered in my load which you smeared across your fingers,” His voice catches at the very end as he goes hip to hip with you, his cock buried in your pussy.

Your hands find his hair, tugging on it anxiously. You attempt to lift your hips upwards to try to meet his movements, a silent plea for more but Cassian brings his own hips downward. You groan at the sensation, your breathing ragged.

“You look the prettiest when you’re fucked out from me,” He continues as if you aren’t begging. But this is how it always goes with Cassian. The fact he refuses to give you what is so desired makes the entire interaction hotter. “When you’re too fucked out to move afterwards, when all you can do is hold onto me and fall asleep,” He moves a little faster now, “Or maybe you look the prettiest when my cock is in your mouth and you’re looking up at me with your beautiful eyes. I love your lips stretched out around my cock, you drooling all over it as you suck me off.”

“Cass,” The name comes out like a broken plea, your fingernails gliding down his back, sure to leave some light scratches, “Cass,” You whine again.

He ignores your begging. His cock moves in and out of your cunt easily because you’re dripping wet for him. You can feel how slick your pussy is when Cassian pulls out all the way and slips back inside, his cock covered in your wetness.

“I’ve missed hearing you plead for me,” He admits, his breathing uneven, “Let me hear you say my name again.”

“Cass – just fuck me, I need – I gotta cum.”

He smirks against your skin, replying, “You just came, sweetheart, you can’t wait a little bit longer?”

You know all too well Cassian can hold off on his own orgasm just to make you wait longer for your own. But the earlier climax has only made you desperately need another, one where he is fucking you and cumming inside your pussy.

“Cass, I can’t wait,” You know that you’re not furthering your cause but your need for him to fuck you into the mattress is too strong, “Just fuck me hard, please.”

Maybe it is that so much time has passed since the last time you slept with him. Perhaps Cassian is just lost in the memories of your time together and he is feeling a little soft. Regardless of the reason, he begins to adjust his position, sending relief through you. Propping himself up above you, with a hand gripping the bedsheets next to each side of your head, he studies you beneath him.

Normally, Cassian never caves. He would keep at his slow pace until you finish. But whether it’s the years or desire, for the first time he submits.

With a jerk of his hips, he drives his cock in your cunt and then doesn’t stop. The entire time his eyes don’t leave your face, studying your ever changing expressions to figure out what speed makes you feel the best. His own breathing is growing ragged from having held back his own orgasm for so long. As he fucks you hard and fast, the bed frame rattling from the sheer force of it, your head rolls back as a long moan of his name escapes from in between your lips.

You are cumming again, raising your hips to meet his thrusts as your pussy tightens around his girth. Cassian gasps and shivers but is still holding back, making sure that you ride out your climax. As you finish, he lowers himself down, curling around your body as he pumps his hips steadily.

“I’m going –” His voice catches, “Fuck, take my load, sweetheart.”

Cassian grunts, spilling out in your pussy. He always came a lot and this time is no exception. You can feel his hot load filling you up as he buries his face in your neck, breathing shakily. You love how it feels to have him finishing in your cunt again and your hands go to his ass, gripping it hard to make sure he stays inside you until he finishes completely.

Afterwards, Cassian pulls out and rolls onto his back next to you, panting. He runs his hand through his hair, eyes closed tightly. You know that you’re leaking his cum and from the two intense orgasms you’ve had, all you can do is lay there and try to collect yourself.

The day just started and it felt as if you could sleep it away.

But the question of what happens now still lingers at your brain.

“And that one?”

Cassian glances down at the top of his shoulder, squinting. “Blaster bolt grazed me… I think.”

“You think?”

“Some of it just…blurs together,” He gives a casual shrug.

The answer as to what happens now ended up being spending the entire day in bed, lazily switching between talking about the past few years and fucking. As evening descends, you are in Cassian’s lap in the living room after having successfully left the bedroom to eat dinner.

Half dressed in his lap, while Cassian is once again shirtless, you are running your fingers across the various scars and marks on his chest. His own hands have wiggled under your long shirt, touching the bare skin of your lower back.

Playfully, you point to the bandage on his side. “That one?”

“Oh, that one? Prison breakout. Going to leave a nasty scar, that one. I don’t think the medic knew exactly how to deal with it.”

“Hey!” You protest although you are giggling.

Cassian smiles, his gaze softening at your expression. He brings one hand upwards to cup your cheek and your laughter dies in your throat as the questions you’ve been avoiding since first fucking him in the morning come bubbling to the surface.

“What now?” You cannot help but ask, “You just leave once it’s safe?”

“Come with me,” He says, “I meant what I said earlier. The rebellion needs medics.”

“I’m not cut out for the rebellion, Cass.”

“If I am, then you certainly are,” He pauses for a second and adds on, “It isn’t just the rebellion who needs medics. I want you back.”

You blink in surprise at his forthcoming nature, unsure how to respond.

He goes on in a clear tone, “I know why we broke up. I get why you ended things. But I’m not like that now. I have something I’m focused on, something that is important to me, something my energy goes into. It isn’t like before…I’m not like I was before. Give me a chance to show you that. Come with me when I leave here.”

Your heart is beating quickly at his serious stare. “You’re asking a lot,” You finally manage to say.

“I know. But I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important to me.”

You know it is a risk and you have no idea how it will play out. But Cassian is correct in that he isn’t the same person he was when you first ended the relationship and this time around him showed you that deep down in your heart you still longed for him.

On top of that, you also knew that the Imperial overreach would only grow worse. Maybe you wouldn’t be on the front lines or running around as a spy but surely your skills could still come in handy.

“Besides, maybe if you had been around all these years, I wouldn’t be so scarred,” He jokes softly.

“Not so sure about that one seeing as you’re going to have a fresh new scar on your side,” You point out.

“That’s just a reminder I’d be dead if you hadn’t answered the door.”

You feel safe and comfortable in his lap like this, your fingers idly touching his chest. He is warm and inviting in a way that he only ever showed to you. But there is a hardness underneath that Cassian always had, now honed like a weapon to be aimed at the Empire.

Cassian is impossible to resist and impossible to forget. You already know what you’re going to say – why dance around it?

“Alright.”

He raises one eyebrow. “Can you be a little more specific? Alright to…the rebellion? To me?”

“To both.”

His shoulders sag slightly with relief and happiness flickers behind those gorgeous brown eyes of his that you’ve been enamored with since the first time he looked at you all those years ago. He leans forward, kissing you softly.

You wrap your arms around Cassian, resting your head on his shoulder and closing your eyes. He is comforting, warm like your favourite blanket and familiar as ever even with all the changes. When his arms circle around your waist, your heart flutters.

This is where you’re meant to be, you think, softening against him.

The universe has an interesting way of having you circle back to the one you’ve always loved.

the end.

#star wars smut #cassian andor x reader #cassian andor fics #cassian andor smut #star wars fics #i want you back #100 notes #200 notes

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crowleywowley · 2 years ago

Text

Two Liars | Cassian Andor x Reader

Summary: two strangers meet in a bar.

Rating: M

Tags/warnings: smut, unprotected sex, genitalia description

a/n: this took me a comically long time to write. I’ve been in such a bad writing funk recently but I did it!!! Dedicating this to my beloved @guess-my-next-obsession for always being so encouraging of my works, I would die without u<3

I’ve never written cassa before so be gentle on me! Enjoy!!!

The brightly colored liquid moved smoothly down your throat, the empty glass clinking against the bar top far too soon after you’d received it. You glanced around the dimly lit room; not much in the way of decor, a few silver couches and tables were dispersed throughout the small lounge. The rounded bar, which was emanating a white glow, was the main source of light in the space, causing most of the patrons to stick to the corners where they could hide under the cover of darkness. You, however, chose to sit right at the source, deciding the best way to stay undercover would be to stay in plain sight. You’d changed your appearance, of course- this time opting for a darker hair color, and a more intense makeup look than you’d ever wear normally. That was what all the rich women on this planet did, anyone else tended to stick out considerably.

As you scanned the room, your eyes drew to a man sitting a few stools away. He was busying himself in his drink, pretending he hadn’t been looking at you moments before your eyes fell on him. He was undeniably handsome, from what you could see- though you couldn’t decide if he was the type to bother with. His dark clothing didn’t look particularly expensive, so you guessed that he was a traveler like yourself, just not masking it as well. Travelers were easy targets, your usual go-to, but on this planet, you knew there were much heavier pockets waiting for you elsewhere.

You looked back towards your own drink for a moment, then decided to glance back over at him. This time your eyes met, and you felt the tiniest hint of a smile pull at your lips. That was all he needed, apparently, before he stood from his chair and moved casually to the one on your left.

“Was wondering when you were gonna come over and buy me a drink.” You drew smoothly, crossing your legs, revealing more of your thigh.

His eyebrows twitched up as a shocked smile came to his face, as if he weren’t expecting you to be so blunt. You liked that.

“Who said I was going to buy you a drink?” He retorted, putting the ball back in your court. This time it was you who raised your brows at him, used to men caving immediately when you got flirty. You liked this even more.

You gave a soft laugh before responding. “Careful now. I could just tell the barkeep that you’re harassing me and get you thrown out,” you tutted.

He inched closer to you. You willed yourself to keep your face even, a smile threatening to crack through during this cat and mouse game. It had been so long- too long- since you’d gotten to act like this. To be the flirty, mysterious stranger in a bar. Life had kept you on the run too much for this anymore.

“No need for that. I’m just teasing.” He shifted so he was facing the bartender, raising his hand to signal the man down before he paused.

“Can I at least get your name?” He asked. “Y’know, so I can know who I’m buying a drink for?”

You turned your torso to face him fully, taking him in completely for the first time. He was even more handsome than you’d imagined when glancing at him from the corner of your eye; tousled hair that had your fingers twitching with an urge to comb it down, rake your fingers through it, and a light beard that you could tell he’d grown to appear older. A sharp nose, resting just under the softest pair of eyes you’d ever seen. They held… something in them, though you couldn’t pinpoint what. Secrets, you decided.

“Lina.”

A lie.

He smiled at you then, those sweet brown eyes crinkling when he did so. But the smile he gave you felt reserved, as if he were holding back what he was feeling. Sussing you out, even. You briefly wondered if he was onto you, but you kept yourself calm.

“A lovely name for a lovely woman.” He responded, and suddenly any suspicious thoughts you’d been having about the man came dangerously close to slipping from your mind as he moved closer to you in his seat, slotting his knees between yours.

You rested on your elbow as he ordered another drink for you, plus one for him. He moved with a cool confidence, the practiced kind. You guessed that he’d worked hard on it over the years, most likely as a defense mechanism. It was a classic trick, and an old one; pretend you know what you’re doing and you’ll get just about anywhere in life. It was one you loved to employ, and had been doing so for most of your life. It was how you’d sweet talked your way into this exclusive, overpriced bar.

When he turned back to you, you spoke. “Well? I gave you my name, aren’t you going to give me yours?”

He chuckled lightly. “My apologies. You can call me Venka.”

Another lie.

You could sense it immediately, one liar to another. There’s always a tiny bit of hesitation when someone gives a fake name, sometimes so minuscule you wouldn’t notice unless you were looking for it. But you felt it in him- he probably rotated through a variety of aliases. The spark of curiosity you held for the man was quickly being fanned into a large flame; who was he? More importantly, who- or what- was he hiding from?

“Mm. Well, Venka,” you poured his not-name off of your tongue with a teasing lilt, “What brings you to Calfa?”

“Ah, just some business. Nothing I want to bore you with. You?” He sipped his drink, raising his brows over the rim of the glass.

You shrugged. “Just traveling.” You kept it short.

He tilted his head slightly. “A beautiful woman traveling the galaxy alone? Seems a bit unsafe.”

“Are you suggesting I don’t know how to hold my own?” You bristled, brows furrowing.

His featured softened as he chuckled again. “No, no. I meant unsafe for whomever crosses your path.” Venka raised his drink towards you.

You rolled your eyes and huffed out a laugh. “Nice save.”

When he smiled at you this time, it felt more real. His chest bounced as he laughed at your words, his head tilted back. As your conversation continued, you were both clearly holding back, unwilling to give up too much of yourself to the other. It was the way you had to be. And yet, even with the restrictions, you were also unwilling to stop talking to him. He was entrancing. You allowed yourself to be charmed by him, whether you meant to or not. Your will was slipping- what was the problem with having just one night of fun?

You knew you should’ve taken the drink and left him sitting there, told him to have a good night, but you couldn’t. Instead, you found yourself with your hand on his knee, slowly inching up his thigh.

“Care for another round?” You purred, leaning closer to him. You could smell him from here; a maddening combination of pine and sage. Cologne he’d probably swiped from someone rich enough to not even notice it was missing.

His eyelids were low, a slanted smirk on his face. “Only if you do.”

Your head quirked to the side as you raised a brow. “Something else in mind?”

When he responded, his voice was low and rough. It sent a chill down your spine.

“We stop dancing around it and go back to your place.”

Heat blossomed through your chest and sizzled down your body. Any inhibitions you’d felt previously were now fully gone- his large hand overtook yours as he helped you step down from the tall barstool. The heels you wore clicked against the metal floor, making a satisfying sound that let everyone in the room know you were on your way out. Though your goal was usually to remain unnoticed, you couldn’t help but feel a smug pride as you soaked in the attention.

Venka’s hand gently floated behind your back, guiding you as you walked together. Not much was said on the short journey to your tiny studio, though an electricity was undeniably thrumming between the two of you. He let you lead the way, leaning against the wall with his hands tucked in his pockets as he patiently waited for you to unlock the door. You stepped in first, motioning for him to come in, before locking the door behind him. You reminded yourself to remain calm- though it was proving to be difficult with the way he was looking at you, brown eyes impossibly dark.

There wasn’t much to the space- a small couch in the middle of the room with an even smaller table in front of it, both provided with the lease. In the corner was a kitchen, white counters and appliances untouched. Towards the back of the space was the bedroom, which you set your sights on as soon as you heard the lock click.

“Can I kiss you now?” He asked, pressing his forehead to yours and slinking his hands around your back.

You couldn’t help but let out a small puff of a chuckle at him asking permission, the intimacy of it warming your heart.

“Yes please.”

You draped your arms over his shoulders, grabbing hold of his jacket collar. He tugged you closer, pressing his lips to yours with a sigh. His lips tasted of the bitter liquid he’d been drinking at the bar; it mixed intoxicatingly well with the sweet nature of your own drink that still lingered on your own lips. Venka- or whatever his real name was, you were finding it harder and harder to care- was a dangerously good kisser. The way his tongue slipped into your mouth felt almost natural, as if it belonged there. He pulled you in closer with a gentle grip on your neck, melding your bodies together.

“You are…” he began as he pulled back from you with a sigh. “A very beautiful woman.”

You bit back a smile. “Flattery will get you nowhere, sir.”

He gave you a smirk. “Whatever you say.”

Stepping back, he slipped a finger under the silver strap of the dress you’d donned. It was overpriced, and most definitely not your style, but allowed you to blend in on a variety of these gaudy planets you tended to haunt, so you kept it around. His eyes were raking over you hungrily, eagerly awaiting your permission to continue- you were very glad you’d decided to wear it tonight.

After you gave him a small nod he continued, sliding the strap down your shoulder and repeating the action on the other side. His fingers were rough in texture, a tell that he was someone who had worked with them a lot, but they moved over your skin with a surprising fluidity and gentle nature. The dress now only clung to your breasts, so you met his eyes and gave a small tug until you were completely bare before him aside from your underwear. He ran a hand down his face, catching his breath a moment, before closing the space between your bodies again and meeting your mouth with his. He kissed you with so much intensity- it was overwhelming and taking over your senses in every way possible. His hands gripped the base of your neck and the small of your back, holding you as if you’d slip away at any moment.

As he kissed you, you tugged on his thick jacket, desperate to shed him of the layers. He obliged happily, not breaking the rhythm he’d made as he shrugged it off. You slipped your hands between your bodies, working the buttons on his chest with an eagerness that was almost embarrassing; you stopped caring when he pressed his thigh between your legs. The fabric was rough- not quite denim, but enough to make your hips roll against it. He smirked against your lips, knowing the effect he was having on you. Not willing to let him win, you pushed off the wall with your foot, catching him off guard and using his surprise to your advantage to switch your places.

His hair had fallen onto his face a bit, framing his eyes and making them appear softer. You briefly noted that he looked younger in this light, before brushing it away from his forehead and getting back to work untucking his shirt and pulling it down his arms. His chest had a light dusting of hair on it, so irresistibly tempting you couldn’t help but place a small kiss to it. From there you set on his pants buckle, one that was overly complicated but you thankfully figured out with minimal embarrassment. You sank down, looking up at him with round eyes, pulling the fabric of his trousers down with you. His bulge was evident- pressing eagerly against the soft fabric of his underwear. Although he was a relatively lean man, you could see that his cock was anything but. It was thick- mighty, even. You stuck your fingers in the band of the garment, pressing a kiss to his clothed member before pulling it down.

His eyes were trained sharply on you, watching your every move. He was waiting, anticipating what you’d do next. You moved deliberately slowly, enjoying being the one in power. All part of the persona, of course- but he didn’t need to know that. As far as he was concerned, this was who you were all the time.

Gripping the base of his stiff erection, you held it in place to take only the very tip into your mouth. Your lips circled around it, and your tongue slid forward to trace a pattern on the sensitive area. You pulled back a moment, keeping his eye, before returning and pulling more of him into your mouth. You began a slow rhythm, sucking him off while moving your hand at the base of him. He was clearly holding back, letting out heavy breaths. His hand had moved to the back of your hair, not pushing on your head, but simply resting there. You were making filthynoises around him- a sultry slurping sound that you knew was driving him crazy by the way his fingers gripped your hair, with a few cooing hums sprinkled in for good measure.

“I wanna hear you,” you purred, pulling your mouth off of him but keeping your hand moving.

He made to reply with a snarky comment, but you cut him off by returning your mouth to his cock, this time with more urgency. Your hand was gliding up and down the length of him, lubricated by your spit, meeting with your mouth rhythmically. Your cheeks were hollowed around him and your tongue was pressing firmly against the underside of the member, dragging up and down steadily. There it was- the thud of his head back against the wall, the muscles giving out under the pleasure. His hand pressed more into the back of your head to urge you on, and of course, you did.

His hips were starting to move of their own accord; a slight twitch that you could feel all the way where you gripped his thighs. Soft, breaking moans were escaping his barely parted lips, and when you spared a glance upwards, you made a mental note to save the sight forever. His long torso flexing towards you, his abs straining as he held himself back. One arm tucked neatly behind your head, the other trying to find purchase in the wall and grasping at it desperately. And finally, perhaps the most beautiful aspect of the picture- his head, tossed back so his curls flopped away from his face, and his eyes drawn in tight. The image sent heat up your spine and warmed your cheeks, urging you on further and further until-

“Stopstop- stop,” He breathed out, gently pulling your mouth away from him with a heaving chest.

You sat back on your knees, taking a moment to wipe the spit from around your lips. “Did I hurt you?” You asked, out of breath yourself.

He chuckled, eyes still closed. “The furthest from it.” After a moment, he looked down at you, his smug smile from before slowly inching its way across his face. He extended an arm and grabbed your hand, pulling you up until you were level.

Gripping your chin between his thumb and pointer finger, he tugged your mouth to his, locking your lips together. You felt the air leave your chest.

“Get on your hands and knees.”

Something in the back of your mind told you to keep up the dominant persona you’d had such a strong grip on before; but the way he was looking at you, somehow both commanding yet comforting, turned that part of your brain off. You only obeyed him, crawling slowly onto your bed and arching your back towards him.

From behind, you heard him hum hungrily. “Mind if I take these off?” He asked, thumbs popping underneath the band of your underwear.

You twisted your neck, just barely able to see him. “Be my guest.”

He smirked, gripping the underwear and sliding it over the curve of your bottom and down your thighs. He ran a hand in the opposite direction, carefully mapping out the expanse of your skin.

“Now, let’s see…” He started, taking his middle finger and dragging it from your ass inwards towards your center. He was met with wet heat, his finger sliding through it with ease. “Ah, did you like sucking me off, pretty girl? You’re soaking.”

Your cheeks warmed- you oddly felt as if you’d been caught. Perhaps your facade was a bit more see through than you’d thought.

A small pinch to your ass pulled you back to the moment. “I asked you a question.”

“I did,” you replied sheepishly.

He chuckled devilishly. He leaned forward, caging you in. He spoke in a hushed tone, the kind that lit your whole body up.

“I’m going to fuck you now.”

His cock slid into you slowly, causing your walls to clench as you let out a throaty moan. Though it was a shallow fit, he still curved into you so fully your eyes rolled back. He was taking it slow, dragging against you. He balanced himself carefully on one hand, using the other to wrap around your stomach and slide up to squeeze at your chest. Oddly enough, what you noticed most in that moment- aside from the way he was stretching you open, of course- was the way he was so warm. It was as if he were enveloping you fully, melding your bodies into one as you gripped at the soft pillowcases beneath you.

He was letting out a series of mmms and ahhs, choral noises to score the way he was drilling into you. You wished he would be louder, though you would take what you could get. You didn’t feel a need to keep quiet yourself, allowing your moans to flow freely, and in turn rewarded by his verbal praise.

“Feels good, huh?” He tutted cockily.

You ground yourself back against him, mouth agape as he brushed against something deadly within you. “F-uck,” was all you managed to reply with.

It was hard to process exactly how much time was passing; all you could clearly feel was him penetrating you so deeply. You were lost in the clouds, gripping at sheets and tears escaping your eyes, when you felt him pat the side of your leg.

“Flip over. I want to see that pretty face.”

In a different context with a different partner, you would’ve scoffed at his command. It was corny and overdone, yet you didn’t find yourself laughing at all. You instead rolled over eagerly, sinking your fingers into his hair and pulling him in for a kiss. Your mouths clashed together eagerly, drinking each other in as if it were your last sip you’d ever take.

“You’re so big,” you breathed out, eyes shutting again as he slid back into you.

It was another corny line, one you usually reserved to inflate the ego of whatever sap you were looking to con that evening. But this time, you meant it. He slid impossibly deep into you, dipping down to lick and kiss at your collarbones.

In this new position, you were able to slid your hands around his sides, moving them down until you could grip at the soft flesh of his ass. It seemed to encourage him, speeding up his strokes when you did so.

“Shit,” you hissed. “I’m getting close.”

“Yeah?” He piped up, quirking his brow at you.

You nodded vigorously. He responded by slipping his hand between you, shuffling his hand around until he found your clit. You sucked in a sharp breath at the contact.

“Is that helping, pretty girl? You like when I touch you?” He soothed, though his voice was tense and strained.

You could only nod again, feeling the first tingling of an impending orgasm starting in your belly. You sank your nails deeper into his skin- it felt like fire was starting to burn through your whole body and you never wanted it to stop.

“Oh my god,” you cried, mouth dropped open and brows pulled together.

“What is your name?” He grunted, the words escaping through his breaths.

Caught off guard by the question, it took you a moment to find the name you’d given him- which one was it? Lia? Heleya? There were too many to keep track of and all of them were the furthest thing from your brain in that moment.

“Lina,” you shot back finally.

He gave you a disapproving grunt, shaking his head. “Your real name.” He looked down at you earnestly, still delivering deep strokes that had any coherent thoughts jumbled and nearly impossible to detangle.

You heart skipped a beat. Of course he was onto you- he was just as much of a liar himself. The two of you had played that game all night.

“Ah- yours first.” You spoke through a moan.

He grinned down at you, and you couldn’t help but let out a breathy laugh before tugging his head down to yours and kissing him once again. It was an unspoken acknowledgement between the two of you; you had to keep your real identity as close to your chest as you could. This lifestyle, this galaxy, was too unsafe to do otherwise. When you broke away, he remained mere inches from your face.

“Not a chance.”

He was beginning to stutter in his movements, while you were still barreling towards climax. You were moaning almost pornographically, the kind of moans that are embarrassing when you remember them in the morning, though you felt anything but shame right now.

“Fuck,” he exclaimed. He was teetering on the edge; you were both waiting to see who would break first. He was getting you dangerously close with every gentle circle of his fingers against your clit.

“Let it go. Fill me up.” You cooed breathily, panting loudly.

“N-no,” he stuttered. He slowed the movements of his cock down, focusing his efforts on you.

As you sucked in more and more air, your hips bucking up, he nodded to you in encouragement. “That’s it, there you go,” he uttered sultrily when you finally broke.

You clenched around him over and over, and while he made a valiant effort to allow your climax to finish before giving into his own, it became too much for him and he began quickly pounding into you before finishing with the loudest moan you’d heard him let out all night. It was a heavenly sound, and one you’d probably store in your mind forever.

“Christ,” you huffed out, laying flat as he removed himself from you. He collapsed on the bed silently, save for small puffs of air leaving his chest.

The two of you remained side by side that way for a moment, completely bare atop your small bed. When your breathing had finally evened out, you turned your head to take in his resting form.

He had several marks in varying states of healing, some as fully formed scars while others were fresh scrapes. Each one intrigued you, and you found yourself longing to trace them and ask for the story. You knew you couldn’t- feelings like this weren’t allowed. Vulnerability wasn’t allowed. But he looked so soft this way. You tried your best to set the feeling aside, choosing instead to curl yourself into his open arm.

His hand wrapped around your shoulder, rubbing it gently. You briefly pondered how strange this was objectively; two people, probably in lines of business much more similar than you realized, finding release and affection before you would both disappear back into the galaxy. It was almost sad, if you thought about it too hard. Perhaps you would settle down someday- as you laid there you allowed your mind to wander to the idea of normalcy, a family. An honest life, not one where you had to hide and find thrills in crime and rebellion. It shouldn’t have been a comforting idea, yet it was always lurking in the back of your conscious.

He rolled over so he could hold you from behind, keeping his arm wrapped so it was tucked under you. He linked your fingers on the other arm, holding your hands against your tummy. Silence was rolling over the room, pulling you into sleep, until you heard him mumble something into your hair.

“What?” You asked croakily, not bothering to open your eyes.

“My name.” He repeated, still at a hushed level. “It’s Cassian.”

You were silent for a moment, letting the weight of his admission sink into your skin. In another other circumstance, this would be the moment you ran. You didn’t need to get personal like this. But in that moment, you made another choice.

“Cassian,” you echoed back, enjoying the way it rolled off your tongue.

Though you shouldn’t have, you couldn’t help it.

You told him your real name.

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Not sure who to tag for this so I’ll just tag my mando ppl!! Feel free to disregard if this isn’t ur cup of tea<3

@guess-my-next-obsession @iamskyereads @grippingbeskar @axshadows @wheresarizona

#cassian andor x reader #andor x reader #cassian andor smut #cassian andor fanfiction #cassian andor fic #andor fanfiction

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