#f!cassian andor

[zingsthings]

breathes in deep the air

So Cassia watches her partner take a man out at the kidney, and lift up a hand, and run its back over her sweating forehead, and twist around to give a really unfair view of her abdomen, and glance over like she knows that Cassia’s half out of her exhausted mind with desire, and Cassia loves her. And she wants. And she wonders.

or, Jyn Erso and Cassia Andor try something new.

chapter one: the comet brings no fear / no, i gaze joyfully In which: Cassia is besotted, Jyn absolutely bodies some Pathfinders in a sparring match, and Cassia, as is her wont, thinks too much. And so we lay our scene.

chapter two: and this bright star / having traced its parabola In which: Jyn is… excited, Cassia Worries Too Much, and Jyn contemplates vulnerability-her-beloathed. And also her lover's hands.

chapter three: with inexpressible speed / through immeasurable space In which: Jyn gets a chance to be all sorts of tactile, Cassia has an excellent time and brings up a Topic, and Jyn has emotions, which is honestly very rude, as a concept. Also, we earn our E rating.

chapter four: seems suddenly / to have stopped In which: yeah, this is the highly emotional facesitting chapter. Have fun!

[betty-fran]

I stand this morning with a difficult message. I believe we are in crisis. The distance between what is said and what is known to be true has become an abyss. Of all the things at risk, the loss of an objective reality is perhaps the most dangerous. The death of truth is the ultimate victory of evil. When truth leaves us, when we let it slip away, when it is ripped from our hands, we become vulnerable to the appetite of whatever monster screams the loudest. This Chamber’s hold on the truth was finally lost on the Ghorman Plaza. What took place yesterday… what happened yesterday on Ghorman was unprovoked genocide. Yes! Genocide! And that truth has been exiled from this chamber! And the monster screaming the loudest? The monster we’ve helped create? The monster who will come for us all soon enough is Emperor Palpatine.

[hanalghilan]

Diego Luna as Cassian Andor (2022)

[timetodiverge]

"You're coming home to yourself. You've become more than you fear. Let that protect you." -Cassian in Andor Season 2, Episode 1

(my andor gifs)

[senselessviolets]

"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.

[prophetkristy]

Anyway, that final walk swagger through the Yavin base, amirite? I gotta give up looking for a gif of it and go to bed because I already chose sleep over diving headfirst into the undeniably best Star Wars movie….

[selfship-help]

cassian andor stimboard for 🕷🐶 anon! with brown, amber & coffee stims

x | x | x x | x | x x | x | x

[septimaseverinawannawrite]

Saturday Seven 03

Fandom: Star Wars

Pairing : Cassian Andor x F!Reader

Request: No.

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

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

Rate: T

Words: 390

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

🌹Click to My AO3

(Divider by @saradika)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tag : @starwarsficnetwork

[could-they-be-a-pro-wrestler]

HIGHLIGHTS FROM THIS EPISODE OF FRIDAY NIGHT PUNCHGROUND

THE UNEASY ALLIANCE OF TEAM V

Previously, during Fictional Survivor Series, Evey Hammond (V for Vendetta) had to abandon the match when she learned that V was attacked backstage by Red Skull (Marvel) and his HYDRA minions.

It is now known that Red Skull has been targeting ABW wrestlers who are associated with the left. V was the first to be attacked. Weeks later, Red Skull ambushed Elliot Alderson (Mr. Robot). And then weeks after that incident, Red Skull attacked Cassian Andor (Star Wars).

During this episode of PunchGround, Red Skull turned his sights on Zaheer (The Legend of Korra). Unlike last time, Zaheer had help. V, Elliot, and Andor all rushed in to drive off Red Skull and his HYDRA goons.

Although Red Skull was forced to retreat, it was clear that the men in the ring were only allied because of the Red Skull situation. Although each man distrusted their current allies, the two who had the most beef were…

[sambargestuff]

Remember when that interviewer thanked Diego for getting the Death Star plans, and Diego said, "Well, you should thank Jyn"?

Yeah. Good times.

i'm also very annoyed about how the symbolism of cassian's character was handled throughout this season. in rogue one and going into season two, the great tragedy of cassian was that he was no one at all -- destined to go unremembered and never live to see the world he gave everything to create. he had been through hell and back not because it had to be that way but because he was brave enough to choose hell in hopes that it might make a better tomorrow. and then he was wiped off the map and the men who destroyed the death star using the plans he stole never knew his name.

according to andor season two, though, cassian was always meant to be on scarif because he's a "messenger." he has lampshaded plot armor until he can die the way he was born to die, because it was always his destiny to make sure those plans made it off that base. also, he is survived by his partner and a child he never knew about, solidifying his legacy. this... is silly. it is beyond noble for cassian to make the willing choice to be forgotten in service of a greater cause. i'm much less compelled if the story is about cassian unintentionally being dragged to his death by fate and then getting remembered as a hero.

[zingsthings]

stopped for me

(part 2 of the brilliant comet)

"It's a graze," Jyn mutters against Cassia, once she can trust her voice to be steady. "It almost wasn't." "I'm still here." Jyn untangles their fingers and cradles Cassia's face with both hands. Cassia's hand remains pressed against her beating heart. "You're still here," she echoes, words still tinged with disbelief. "Yeah," says Jyn, "we are," and kisses her.

or, Jyn is not dead, Cassia is not alright, and they both learn some things about the mutual value of sweat. And walls. (The rest of Rogue One is pleased for them, but wishes they'd figured this out absolutely anywhere else.)

A belated little treat for @brynnmclean's birthday! THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU for your encouragement and advice and friendship, and of course also for being one of the writers who got me into this fandom in the first place. You're a gem. Enjoy the angst and smut!

(Technically this is also my similarly belated entry for Day Four of Rebelcaptain Fix-It Week, for the prompts "how they work together on missions" and "dance". Well. For a certain value of dance.)

[andorsdoll]

Like A Vow || Cassian Andor x Reader

Summary: You’re reckless. He pretends not to be. It wasn’t supposed to mean anything. But Cassian Andor notices everything—especially you.

Word Count: 2.8k || Warnings: coworkers to lovers, super soft angst, smut at the very end, cassian is so tired but so in love, rough sex, oral(f recieving), p-in-v(unprotected), creampie, etc.,

Author's Note: First ever smut in my 20 something years of living and of course I choose Cassian for this. Are there any Cass stans out there? 🥲 Feel like nobody ever talks about him but he's so important to me. After this fic, I'll probably take a breather as I don't really have much else planned besides a few messy drafts. Anyways, if there's a single Cassian lover out there who reads this and enjoys it, it'd make my heart absolutely soar. Thx 4 reading, everybody!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　

You weren’t expecting a warm welcome.

The Rebellion didn’t deal in courtesies. Every outpost, every mission—it was about efficiency, survival, and who was still standing at the end of the day. But still, you were expecting something more than this.

Cassian Andor doesn’t even look at you when you step into the command tent, at first. He finishes reading whatever’s on the datapad in his hand, brows furrowed, jaw set tight. You wonder if this is just how he always looks—on edge and bracing for impact. When he does look up, it hits you like a punch to the stomach. He looks at you like you’re a problem. Like you’ve already made a mistake by being here.

It’s the first thing you notice. Not his sharp jawline, not the rough stubble shadowing his face, not even the way he stands—feet planted, arms crossed, every muscle taut with something unreadable.

No, the first thing you notice is the weight of his gaze. Suspicion. Guarded. Calculating.

They had sent you here with little explanation—assist Captain Andor, integrate into the missions, follow his orders—but no one warned you that he’d look at you like this. Like he’s waiting for you to prove him right. You press your lips together. You were clearly not the ally he was hoping for. Tightening your grip on the strap of your bag, you speak for the first time, "You think I'm a liability."

Cassian’s steady gaze stays on you. “I think I don’t know you.” His eyes sweep over you, assessing. “But you’re not easy to trust.”

You've heard that before, from officers who kept one hand on their blaster and the other one ready to push you out of the way. From commanders who never let you forget what you used to be before the Rebellion.

You take a step closer, letting the fire in you flare just a little. “Guess you’ll just have to keep an eye on me then.”

Cassian’s jaw tightens. But he doesn’t step back. Though he doesn’t say anything after that.

━━━━⊱︎⊰━━━━

Weeks later on a mission, your boots are soaked through and the wind cuts sharper than it has any right to. You’ve been through worse—nights sleeping under damp tarps, mornings where frost settled into your boots before you could even lace them. But something about tonight’s cold sinks straight to your bones.

Now you’re standing in the cold pretending it doesn’t bother you. And Cassian notices. Of course he does.

He shrugs off his coat and tosses it at you with a flick of his wrist. You blink down at it, then back up at him. “I’m fine.”

“You’re shaking.”

“I’m—”

“Put it on.”

His voice is firm, but not unkind. Like he’s made a decision and arguing won’t change it. Annoyingly, that tone of his sends heat straight to your core, even as your breath fogs in the freezing air.

You stare at him a beat longer, breath puffing out white clouds, before exhaling sharply and sliding the coat over your shoulders. It smells like blaster oil and heat and the weight of him—sharp, worn, unmistakably Cassian.

━━━━⊱︎⊰━━━━

It takes a few days to make it to the next fallback point. The terrain is rough, the weather brutal, and morale is low. But it’s Cassian you’re watching. He’s quieter. He won’t look at you for long. He barely speaks unless it’s to give an order. And somehow that grates on you more than all the orders he’s ever given.

The fourth night, after yet another bare-bones meal for dinner, you slip away from the firepit and follow the faint sound of water. You find him standing knee-deep in the river, arms tense, shoulders bare under the moonlight. Cassian turns when he hears you. “You’re supposed to be sleeping,” he says.

“So are you.”

He doesn’t argue. You glance at the bruises across his ribs. The streaks of ash on his jaw and the ripple of tension he always wears on it like armor. “You’re hurt,” you say softly.

His gaze flicks to your arm, still bandaged. “So are you.”

You step into the river without thinking. The water is cold, biting at your skin, but you keep going until you’re close enough to reach for him. Your fingers skim over his shoulder, across a bruise forming high on his chest.

Cassian exhales, eyes fluttering shut for just a second. Then—soft, almost careful—“Don’t move.”

You don’t ask what he means. You don’t have to. His skin is warm under your palms, your gaze observes his face when he drags you a little closer. Your thumb traces a cut along his jaw. But, he catches your wrist. And then his lips brush the inside of your wrist, so lightly you could lie to yourself and say it was nothing.

“Cassian…” you whisper.

He stays quiet. He doesn't kiss you, even though deep down you want him to. Just presses in—closer than before—close enough to catch your breath, and stays there. And in the silence, only the night answers back.

━━━━⊱︎⊰━━━━

The next mission isn’t long, but it’s long enough for you to notice the way Cassian's eyes feel on you when you’re not looking. Enough for you to realize what’s been holding him back isn’t doubt but worry. Not about you. For you.

You’re crouched behind a low ridge one night, surveying a mining compound, and you can feel the air between you charged and tight.

“You’re quiet,” you murmur.

“I’m thinking,” Cassian says.

“About?”

“Extraction routes.”

You glance at him. “Liar.”

He doesn’t deny it. Just says, “You’re not easy to ignore.”

You blink, then look back toward the compound. You don’t answer—just let the corner of your mouth lift, and hope he catches it.

“You’re reckless,” he says after a moment.

You huff a quiet breath. “So are you.”

“Yeah, but you’re new.”

“Yeah, but I’m not stupid.”

“No,” he says after a pause. “You’re not.”

You watch him from the side. “Are you always like this with new people?”

“I usually don’t care about new people.”

You go still. Cassian’s eyes flick toward you. “I notice everything. You should know that by now.”He stands up, lingering just a little bit closer.

That night, you patch up a graze on his shoulder. He doesn’t pull away when your fingers brush skin. He watches you with his jaw tense like always.

When you’re done, he says, “Thank you,” and your chest aches with the effort of pretending it means nothing. But you’re both pretending. And the cracks are starting to show.

━━━━⊱︎⊰━━━━

The mission’s gone sideways in too many directions, and you're running out of clean shots and clean exits. But what gets under your skin isn’t the enemy fire, it’s the way Cassian keeps pushing ahead like you’re not right there beside him.

You cover him. Twice. He doesn’t acknowledge it. Just reloads and barks for you to move faster.

By the time you reach the rendezvous point, your heart’s hammering, your thigh’s bleeding, and your patience is gone. “I had that angle,” you snap as you duck behind a crate.

“No, you didn’t,” he fires back, checking the charge on his blaster. “You hesitated.”

“I was covering you.”

“I didn’t need covering.”

The tension crackles as loud as the blaster fire behind you. You don’t look at each other, you don’t have to. The frustration between you is too sharp, too close to something else.

Later, back at the safehouse, frustration follows you both in. He slams the door harder than necessary. You drop the intel onto the table harder than you should.

You don’t speak. But it’s all sitting there, tight in your chest, waiting to blow and the silence between the two of you gets heavier by the second.

━━━━⊱︎⊰━━━━

The mission went to hell. Again.

Cassian’s bleeding from his lip, your boots are caked in dust, and the intel package you weren’t supposed to have is now sitting in your bag—because you grabbed it first. He didn’t.

“I had it handled,” he snaps as you storm into the safehouse. “You didn’t have to blow our cover.”

You rip off your gloves. “You were pinned with a blaster at your neck. Forgive me for improvising.”

“You didn’t listen,” Cassian growls, flinging his arm out like he’s one second from losing it. “I told you to wait for my signal!”

You toss your gloves to the floor, scoffing. “You would’ve been dead if I had, Captain.” Your voice cuts—sharp and aimed to hit.

His eyes narrow. “You think you’re clever.”

You step in, a bit closer, voice steady. "No. I know I am.”

And then he breaks, finally. One second of silence and he’s on you, mouth crashing into yours like he’s trying to shut you up, like it’s the only way left to speak or reason with you. It's everything that’s been coiled tight between you two breaking loose all at once.

His hand grabs the back of your neck, anchoring you just before you’re slammed against the wall, breath knocked from your lungs, his mouth crashing into yours like he’s done pretending. Fingers in your hair, body pressed tight to yours, his lips trailing fire down your jaw and neck, every inch of space, gone.

“You don’t think. You act," He reprimands while he keeps trailing down, suckling, "Like you’re not mine to worry about,” he mutters against your skin.

“I’m not yours—” A moan from your lips cuts you off before you can finish when his mouth finds the curve of your neck and lingers there, sucking slow and deep until the skin heats beneath his tongue and you know it’s going to mark.

“You’re just pissed,” you breathe, thinking maybe this is fury, maybe it’s impulse, maybe it’s everything all at once.

“I’m in love with you,” he bites out. “It’s the same thing.”

Cassian’s chest rises fast against yours. He doesn’t pull back. You try to say something. Anything. But your voice falters again, and all that comes out is breath.

He reads that like a signal. One second you’re standing, the next he grips your thighs and lifts you, carrying you across the room with staggering purpose. You barely register the room spinning around you before your back hits the cot, frame creaking beneath the weight of your bodies.

He’s hovering over you, the heat radiating off of him. His breath, hands, mouth, are all over you like he’s making up for every second he had to wait.

His hands are rough where they want to be, but loving where they linger. He shoves your shirt up, palms your breasts, thumbs working slow circles until you arch into him. He strips you down fast, dragging your pants off with a growl, and you can barely think while you undress him too.

His mouth trails along your stomach, down your thighs, and when you whimper, when your hips lift instantly for him—he presses you down with both hands.

Steady. In control. Maddening.

His eyes drop—and for a moment, he just stares. Like the sight alone took the breath from him. His mouth parts, jaw slack, eyes glazed with something close to awe. “Perfect,” he whispers, almost like it wasn’t meant to come out. “Look at you…”

He lowers himself again, breath warm against your thigh, lips ghosting over your skin as he settles between your legs. His tongue starts slow and focused. You gasp as his tongue begins to lap up every bit of your slick. And when you moan this time, it's his name. But it sounds like a plead and it only makes him hungrier.

He devours you like he’s starving. Like he hasn’t tasted anything real since the war started. Like you’re the first thing that’s made him feel full in a long time.

His tongue moves slow at first with long, deliberate strokes from bottom to top, savoring every drop like it’s keeping him alive. Then faster, more focused, the flat of his tongue dragging over your clit with maddening precision, again and again, until your hips jerk under his mouth. He groans into you, the vibration sending sparks through your spine.

And when you're gasping, legs trembling, everything unraveling, you fist your hand in his hair and yank. His head lifts fast at that. He's looking at you with heavy lidded eyes, his lips glistening, chin wet. He’s drenched in you, mouth parted like he’s still tasting you. The look in his eyes is wrecked and ravished, like if you gave him one more second down there, he’d never come back up.

But you don’t give him the chance. You tug him higher, guide him with shaking hands. He groans when your fingers wrap around his length as you angle your hips and drag him toward where you need him most.

And then, he sinks in slow and deep.

When he finally bottoms out, his eyes are searching your face like he’s afraid he imagined it. Your cheeks are flushed, lips parted, eyes glazing over with pleasure—you look like everything he never thought he’d be allowed to have.

“Feels like..” he whispers, voice shaking. “Feels like you were made for me"

He pulls out slow—torturously slow—and then thrusts back in hard, with a sharp snap of his hips and you break open beneath him, undone and unfiltered.

Your breath’s caught somewhere between a gasp and a moan, but you still manage to say his name—barely audible, but a tantric prayer. He says yours in return, like a vow, like it's the only thing grounding him.

The cot rocks beneath you with every thrust, steady and relentless. Cassian's hands stay locked onto your waist while he fucks into you like he’s making up for every second he had to pretend this wasn’t real. Every thrust gets rougher, deeper, like he wants to live inside you.

You’re already close, the pressure building fast. Your nails dig into his shoulders, your breath catching on every thrust. “Cassian—”

He groans when you say his name like that, desperate and broken. His hand snakes down between your bodies, fingers circling your clit without hesitation, firm and focused. “I’ve got you,” he rasps. “Come for me.”

And this time, when he gives a command, it’s not like the others. Not barked out in the field, not clipped and tactical. This one’s just for you, just for now.

And you obey. It hits hard—your whole body arching, clenching around him, mouth open in a moan you can’t even bite back. He watches you fall apart like it’s the most important thing he’s ever seen. Like he’d die to make it happen again.

“Fuck—you’re squeezing me so tight" he mutters, voice unraveling. You grab his face and make him look at you. “Finish inside me.”

His jaw clenches, like he’s trying to hold it together. “You want me to?” He asks, looking down at you, so fucking beautiful, afraid that wanting it this much might break him.

You nod, eyes never leaving his. And that's all it takes for Cassian to let out a low, guttural groan while his rhythm falters. His hips snap forward once, twice, then he buries himself deep, gasping your name like it’s the only word he remembers.

He stays there, buried deep, breathing like he doesn’t want to leave this version of himself. One of your legs is still wrapped around his waist, trembling but holding him in place, like neither of you are ready to let go.

You can feel him still inside you—thick, spent, warm. His release already starting to leak out of you and around him, sticky and slow between your thighs.

“You’re reckless,” he mutters. Though it sounds like affection when he says it this time.

You hum against his skin. “So are you."

And still, he doesn’t move.

The room is quiet but the soft sounds of the cold night outside echo. The wind, the faint hum of crickets, and the distant rustle of leaves. It all feels far away. Like nothing exists outside this cot, this breath, this moment.

Afterward, when you’re trembling and tucked into his chest, you let yourself sink into the warmth of him. He feels solid, quiet, and safer than anywhere you’ve been in a long time.

Your voice is barely above a whisper, almost shy. “I didn’t mean that thing I said earlier… about not being yours.”

He kisses your temple. “I know.”

[coline7373]

Exactly.

The break-down from humanity is so thorough evil has becoming boring.

It's why it's so chilling.

Andor portrays the evil of fascism in such a mundane way.

No villages get burned down, no planets destroyed by big lasers.

Instead it’s families torn apart by incarceration. Permits being denied for the funeral of a community leader. “he says it like it is.” Power-tripping cops on a shakedown. The shepherds don’t get torched like Owen and Beru, they get forced to labor for capital. The civilizing weight of banal industrialization.

Fascism isn’t bombastic spectacle in this show. It’s just fucking boring.

[viharker]

Echoes a multichap fix-it fic by @viharker

“What happens next?” she asks after a while, after she’s convinced herself that she won’t burst into tears. He squeezes her hand; her stomach drops. “I wish I knew.” - They could have died. They should have died. But Jyn and Cassian survive the Battle of Scarif, only to find that the lives that await them on the other side are far more complicated than they anticipated.

Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Category: F/M Fandoms: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types, Andor (TV) Relationship: Cassian Andor/Jyn Erso Characters: Jyn Erso, Leia Organa, Vel Sartha, Cassian Andor, Bix Caleen

Language: English Published: 2025-05-17 Updated: 2025-05-17 Words: 1,069 Chapters: 1/11

[septimaseverinawannawrite]

How the Relationship Begins

Fandom: Star Wars

Type: Headcanons

Pairing: Cassian Andor x F!Reader

Warning: Late night writing, so, no beta. Writer is being overwhelm and under Taylor Swift's Lavender Haze (As you can see title's colours). A little bit OOC.

Rate: T

A/N: This idea happened when I rewatch Andor for fourth time. Now, I'm heavily in the writer-block state, but I don't want to abandon this blog. I believe this dilemma is gonna pass, if I keep writing. So, Enjoy!

🌹Click to My AO3

(Divider by @saradika)

Okay, let's start!

You met him on Yavin IV. Both of you were new to the Alliance's main base.

Since it was the main base, that meant you both had to train for necessary skills.

From the Alliance's levels, he was 'good to excellent', while your far-lenght shooting skill was not reaching the requirement. You stayed at training ground, after all new recruits leaved, to improve your skill.

Cassian saw you practising. He volunteered to help you, because he had feelings toward you.

It was the impression at first sight.

He couldn't clearly answer what kind of feeling, but as you were around him, smiling at him and saying thanks, he felt like he was teenage boy - who had a first crush - again.

While you had been grateful for his help and feeling like butterflies were in your stomach, especially when he adjusting your stance.

Not only his help drove you crazy, but also his smiles, his touches and his whispers into your ear - how to shoot and hitting right at the target.

As you hit all targets in all rows, you jumped and hugged him with happiness and exciting.

Yes. It made you blushing hard like tomatoes, while Cassian's heart skipped a beat. So, you two bounced away.

"First time is a beginner luck. You have to practise everyday." He said. "Meet me every day after dinner."

You agreed. You and Cassian kept meeting at training ground, every evening.

And after the semi-private session. You returned to your quater with many questions in your head. The big question was; 'Did you fall for him?'

You shaked them off and switched with the thought until you falling asleep.

Now you had been practising every evening for 2 weeks, until he challenging you to shoot all targets within 30 seconds. You accepted and you did it.

Jumping and hugging him again. But this time you both lingered. His face and yours were close, enough to feel the breathes. His brown eyes bared his soul, you could not fight them.

"Thank you so much, Cassian. I think tomorrow I will pass the test with flying flag." You mumbled.

"I think so, but, why do you looking to another way?"

You still looked down at the floor, almost startling, he was tilting your chin up to look at him. His thumb gently fondled your lower lips, your lips part a little.

"Cassian...I-I.." You stuttered, "I don't know what to say..."

"Kassa, call me Kassa."

Cassian's raptured voice got you, finally you gazed upon him, whispering 'Kassa'.

Like the gravity around you two sent the colossus magnets pulling you both to capture each other's lips.

After few seconds, which felt like hours; you both withdrew for air, leaning the temples together with wide smiles and small laughing.

When you passed the test and registered as an officially rebellion officer, Cassian was waiting for you.

You hopped and hugging him tightly. He praised you and guiding you away from the chaos around hangar and commanding table.

"Would you like to move into my quarter?" He asked, kissing your temple.

"You should ask me out before asking me to move in with you." You teased him. This time was his turn that his cheeks were reddening.

He knew too well, your both works were not certain. The missions after would take his own or your life. Also, his first mission as Captain Andor had been assigned, he must leave in three days from now. So, he had to rush things like this.

But you had a point. He should ask you out for an official date. He made up his mind and asking you to survey the ancient ruins on Yavin IV with him.

You accepted with conditions and terms;

"Okay, I'm going out with you, but about moving in--"

"But what?"

"But after your first mission succeed and our third date. Because I need the assurance that you are gonna return back safe and sound. Promise me."

Cassian smiled sweetly, kissed you before he speaking.

"I'm certainly gonna get back to you, my love, I promise."

Then you hugged him again and kissing his jawline, just like a seal to guaruntee the new chapter and adventure in your both lives was full of happiness, joyous and bright futures. Even those three words did not slip out yet.

[bigolidioot]

Okay this is super random and I might not follow through with it but would anyone be interested in a Cassian Andor x F original character soulmate au? It's been bouncing around in my head for a while.