#cassian andor needs big hug

[septimaseverinawannawrite]

Don't Leave Me Here

Changing format and style, because I want to keep my motivation strong. 💪👁👄👁

Fandom: Star Wars

Request: Nope. This is the very self-indulgent one shot.

Pairing: Cassian Andor x F!Reader

Summaries: Battle of Scariff brings hope to the Galaxy and the Rebels, but what about the Rogue One's crews, especially with your long-time-crush, Captain Andor.

Contents: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Mutual pining, Friends to lovers, Soft Cassian, Love confessing, Idiots in love.

Warning: Angst. Describing of Injuries, blood, pain and death. Crying. Anxiety. Cliché plot. Writer is being too over emotional and regret nothing.

Rate: M for melodrama

Words: 2,285

A/N: Alternate version of Rouge One 2016's ending. Because I had realised that I didn't write my own. Also, feel a little bit sad, because 2024 is feeling like eternity. But I'm gonna write Cassian's fix-it fan fictions, until I can't write. English is my second Language, please feel free to correct me, and let me know if I miss any CW+TW. Enjoy Reading 😊

🌹Click to My AO3

Death Star Plan was successfully stolen. The battle at Scariff had been considered as a big victory for rebellions. Everyone who stayed at Yavin IV was cheering and crying with joy. Some systems, even, officially declared independents over the Empire’s sovereign right there. Some systems, which tended to give up before, decided to maintain alliances. The spark of flame was reigniting again. The light at the end of the darkest tunnel was like a new dawn — hope.

But it just was at the very first minutes, when the Plan completely broadcast. The Rogue One crews returned with survivors – were not long enough after the battle ended – but mostly were casualties. All Medbay turned into a big, chaotic area; doctors, nurses, medical staffs, and medical droids managed to diagnose every crew’s condition from the worst to ‘nothing much to worry about’.

And the worst, whose state was severe, was Captain Cassian Andor. Y/N’s one of her old and good friends, since she had joined the Rebellions in the first month.

Cassian was a mystery (some even said he was scary), moody, tense and taciturn on the outside – for almost everybody on Yavin IV Base. Actually, he was not. He had a strange humour and points of views toward life, also knowledges in many fields which attracted his team, many women on the base, and Y/N.

As the volunteer at Medbay – after hearing there were survivors – Y/N ran and helped the staffs as much as her strength allowed. First time she saw Cassian, he was covered by blood and wounds, while she was pasting Bacta gel on a supporting crew. She didn’t spare a time to visit him, she must stay outside – standing by. When she finished all the tasks, she noticed that a doctor and assistances had taken care of Cassian already. She was about to visit him in a patient room, but it was forbidden.

Few hours later, the Rebellion Alliances had received the news; Princess Leia was being held in custody by the Empire. Was anything worst happened to the Alliances right now?    

Three days had passed by, Y/N had switched to the ‘autopilot’ mode on working in her station, doing routine. Thanks to all the works which kept her busy until resting time, they also made her forgot what she had dreamt in her sleeping.

On the fourth day, main crews on the cargo ship gradually came to consciousness. Y/N’s good friend at Medbay told her that late morning. She immediately visited them and listening to the incident near the broadcasting tower on Scariff.

Jyn told Y/N everything which Cassian did. She even encouraged her to hold tight on the hope. Chirrut said the force had been staying with Cassian, and the force always worked in many surprising ways. Moreover, the medical staffs allowed everyone, whoever cared about Cassian, to visit him. He was getting much better now, but still unconscious.

She didn’t want to dig up those memories of him being covered by blood and wounds four days ago. Nevertheless, she shook them out, made up her mind, and deciding to see him. Maybe Jyn and Chirrut were right.

            Y/N exited her station to the room where Cassian was placed. She noticed the one and only re-programming Imperial droid on Yavin IV. He stood and starred through the window, seem like he hoped his Captain was waking soon.

“Y/N.” K2SO greeted, “I have calculated the possible that you are going to visit Cassian today, the percentage is…”

“Don’t tell me.” She cut the droid. “Let me go inside without your statistic. My head is aching enough.”

Keying a code, going inside, she cursed herself for being rude to K2SO. Somehow, after visiting Cassian – she would apologise to the droid – since she had forgotten his good intention, underneath the sarcasm.

As Y/N approached the bed, all Cassian’s blood and wounds were cleansed. BPM pulse and body temperature had not become normal yet. He would not wake up within two or three days, according to the report. Numerous I.V.s were still plugging into his veins, also a bandage on his torso.

Y/N sat on a chair beside the bed, examining Cassian’s state closely while she tried to hold back her tears, but it was failed. She could not help herself. All tears ran down her cheeks like a great flood. Four days and three nights felt like months. She let vulnerability got her by sobbing uncontrollably, started talking to him and wishing he could hear;

“Cassian, I know you are willingly to do anything for the Rebellion. I’m really proud. But why do you always run into suicide missions?” Her voice was depressed. “Sometimes, you don’t have to prove that you are one of the best rebel spies by destroying yourself. Mon Mothma and many commanders speak of you highly… even princess Leia…”

Tears still ran down, while she was reaching for his hand, biting lower lip and shook her head.

“I survived the first month because of your helps. You introduce me to many things I know just a bit or haven’t known before, so I can fit in. When I feel down, blue, even black, you cheer me up with your eccentric jokes – and if you are out for a mission, you always say goodbye… this time… you don’t even give me a chance…”

Y/N recalled what was happening when Rogue One recklessly leaved for Scariff, after most allies and commanders objected. She was there. When the meeting ended, she sought Cassian or whoever in his unit. Too late. They had gone.

“I want to blame my stupid brain for bringing the pain that I do not desire to feel. That isn’t a reason. Those words in my mind – I wish I could tell you, after all of these years…” Y/N softly squeezed his hand “Since here we are, only you and me. When you wake up, we are going to be the same. It’s now or never.”

She paused for seconds, took one deep breath, and let all her feels breaking control.

“I love you, Cassian. More than a good friend. I love you with all my heart, my soul, my breath, and my entire existence. You are the one. Every time you come back, I just don’t want to hug you – I want to kiss you like there’s no tomorrow, jumping into you, embracing you in my arms……”

            Y/N kept confessing her feelings toward Cassian until she recognised she was going to weep again. She stopped, stood up, leaned forward to kiss Cassian’s forehead gently, and whispered before leaving.

“Just don’t leave me here…”

            She dried her eyes, leaved Cassian behind, and repressing the desire to look at him again. As she exited, K2SO still had been on the spot. She sighed, walking toward the droid.

“I’m sorry Kay. I shouldn’t say such things. Well, I don’t have any excuse.”

“At least you didn’t hit me. I don’t expect anything. I have calculated, there is a high chance that you’re going to apologise. So, I forgive you.”

Y/N could swear to Kriff that K2SO mentally shrugged, judging by his tone. She crossed her arms and faking a smile.

“Then we’re even.” Looking on the floor, she gazed up at K2SO again. “Tell me, have you calculated when Captain Andor is going to wake up?”

“I did, but I think you don’t need it anymore.”

She raised her eyebrows. The droid did say nothing, just looked into the room. She followed suit, shook her head, and suddenly rushing inside.

Cassian opened his eyes. Blinking rapidly, he glanced around. The last thing he remembered – before everything turning black – was K2SO and Jyn helping him into an escape pod, also thinking about Y/N and regretting that he had not bid a proper farewell yet. And how the Kriff he could be here now, at the medical section on Rebelli—

“Maker!” she exclaimed, stopping him from the train of thought – While she was restraining herself from hugging him.

Cassian swore in his native tongue. Unbelievably, his eyes might be deceiving him – Y/N was here – impossible. This place could be wherever the creatures went after the death.

“No, this isn’t true. Scariff was destroyed by the Death Star… You can’t be here.”

Y/N wanted to punch him in the face, but it could send him back to the unconsciousness again. She tried to keep calm, but instead, her tears explode again.

“Don’t you dare say such a thing—”

His mouth was gaping a little, looking downward at his own body. His torso and his head still hurt. He felt everything which plugged on his arm, thinking backward – moreover, before he could open his eye – he could hear Y/N said something… about the relationship, and love. Especially what he had been holding on for a long time, the same thing she had blurted out. He thought they were an illusion.

He sat up, his back and his bone were cracking loudly. He breathed deeply, restraining all the agony. Y/N supported him; holding his upper body and adjusting pillows.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” He paused, as she was sitting beside the bed, “This mission is important. We must do it fast. That fucking weapon is too dangerous… like I’ve told you before, if we waited for permission, the Empire could be a hundred steps ahead…”

“No hard feelings. You survive, wake up and healing. The Empire is going to fall. Those are all I want.”  

Seeing Y/N sniffed, sobbed and looked down at the floor, Cassian’s eyes were softer than ever. He reached out to take her hand, that grab an edge of the bed, caressing it gently.

“Please don’t cry. Kay tells me once that tears can drain oneself, and… You deserve all happiness in the galaxy.”

She gazed into his eyes. Perplexing spread on her pale face.

“What Kay’s randomly statistic has to do with my happiness?”

Cassian sighed quietly. Smiling, he whispered in Kenari, decided to speak all his heart out.

“Come sitting here.” He patted a space on the mattress. Although she was still dazing, she consented. Here, it was closer than ever, every time they interacted.

“Your happiness is my happiness. Your pain is my pain.”

She gasped. Something was dawning in her mind, but he still kept continuing;

“I thought I was dead or dreaming. It is not. I hear what you have said. I feel all the things you have done. I’m not going to leave you here anymore. I love you, Y/N; with all my heart, my breath, my soul, and my entire existence.”

“Cass…”

“Please don’t leave me here, too.”

His voice was filled with pleading and the utmost longing. His eyes had not brightened yet, but they were brighter than ever – before he disappeared as the council was dismissing.

“I’m not gonna leave you. Ever.”

All the affectionate and things which left unsaid within their eyes were exploding. Her lips were parted – trying to reply – but his hand slowly moving to her face. Caressing it tenderly and trailing downward from her cheek to her chin, he tugged her weave behind her ear. Cassian and Y/N could feel their breaths upon their own skins. Their eyes were exchanging feeling from through all of these years, as she put her hand on his shoulder.

Cassian didn’t hesitate. He leaned in to capture Y/N lips softly. It was like a butterfly pecking on flowers, an index finger touching a velvet cloth. They paused for seconds to catch the breath. She sensed that the temperature in this room was rising and warmer than before.

“I won’t do this again…” He whispered, looked into her eyes and circling his thumbs over her cheek and her hand.

“You don’t have to…”

“I’m not gonna be reckless. I will ask Mon Mothma and other commanders for table-work. More time on base, less time t—”

Y/N sealed Cassian’s mouth with her lips, lightly pushing him back on pillows. His eyes were widening, but he grinned while kissing her back. His hand on hers moved from to the back of her neck, gradually pulling her down to deepen the passionate kiss.

“There is ninety-nine per cent that Y/N is gonna kiss you like this, Cassian.”

Y/N was abruptly jumping back to a chair. She almost fell from a sickbed, as she heard K2SO’s voice. Cassian, also the same, but he gripped a metal beside tightly enough.

“Kay!” Cassian hissed the Droid, who was standing near infirmary’s trolleys.

“Oh, I shouldn’t have disturbed you both, since you have always wished the scenario like this, should I?”

“Go visiting others.” He ordered. The droid did as he was told – turned around and walking out. Both Cassian and Y/N heard K2SO talking to himself, distinctly, like the droid wanted them to hear.

“Humans are such the peculiar life-forms. I will ask technicians on loading how to understand the humankind programme.”

“Maybe I will tell the technicians to not upload that.”

Cassian sighed loudly, shook his head, and turning to Y/N for opinion. But what he saw was she had been covering her face with her hands in shyness.

“No, I’m gonna tell them myself.”

Cassian joyfully laughed. She still sat and posing as the same. If his eyes were not deceived him, he saw the redness on her temple, her ears, and her neck.

“I should tell you how I feel earlier. But, it's okay, you are lovely when you are like this.”

“Stop it.” She glanced and swiftly pressing the comm, calling a doctor, before Cassian could tease her more.

At the point, she didn’t doubt why K2SO just being K2SO. Because the one who had reprogrammed this imperial droid was just the same as him.

Thank you for reading Your likes, comments and rebloggings are appreciated! 🥰🥰🥰

[pumpkin-stars]

Stargazing

Cassian Andor/GN!Reader

Reuniting on an under-equipped rebel base, Cassian lets a secret slip.

@moonlight-prose SURPRISE!! I was your secret santa! I’m so sorry it’s so late, and it’s shorter than I wanted it to be, but it’s HERE! I really hope you enjoy it 🥰🥰

Warnings/Content: fluffy fluff, nothing but fluff! Huddling for warmth, references to there only being one bed, friends to lovers, stargazing, sharing a blanket. Reader has a plate of food but isn’t depicted eating it. Also featuring guest appearances from K2SO and my Droid OC.

Word Count: 1k.

You’re under prepared for the weather, going at lightspeed from a volcanic planet to this floating snowball in a few hours wasn’t the best idea, but you’d had to get out of there sharpish after your cover was blown, a mad dash for the ship (and droid) you’d stashed on your arrival the only way out.

Clover grumbles in binary as she exits the droid-port, complaining about the lack of warning you’d given her to start the pre-flight checks. She stops in her tracks as the large ex-imperial droid greets her, both bemoaning their choice in human companion as you exit the ship, cursing in an instant at the sudden temperature drop.

Cassian’s there to greet you, wrapping a blanket around your shoulders with a smile, “I missed you.”

“Missed you too.” You pull the blanket closer, “Maker, it’s freezing.”

“Perks of living in an old Clone War base,” Cassian grins, “Come on, you need to get warm and then give your report.” He starts walking, expecting you to follow. “Not even gonna give me a welcoming hug?” You huff, going after him. “My hands are cold, I could slip one under your collar you know?”

“You wouldn’t dare.” He stares, eyes wide, “Don’t you dare.”

~~~

You hadn’t dared, just demanded a hug, then headed to Cassian’s bunk where he’d managed to store another big coat for you to slip on. You hadn’t even been due back for another week, so the fact he had it ready was enough to warm your cheeks, even if the coat had to warm the rest of you. 

You hadn’t expected him to be here at all, neither of you having the details of each other’s missions as a precaution should either of you be captured by the Empire, or pirates, or other nefarious groups who might want to jeopardise the Rebellion’s efforts. He’s been here about three days already, arriving just before a large ship full of new recruits - who since have placed dibs on all the nice beds, but he’s promised there’s space on his bunk for you if you don’t mind being squished beside him.

It’s one of the last things you mind, knowing he’s close and safe is truly the most comforting thing you could ask for at the moment, with such a narrow escape just hours before having him at your side is the only thing that stops you falling apart.

Well, that and Clover’s chuntering through the whole journey.

Neither are with you as you give your report in the command centre, it was a need to know mission, and even though it’s over and your droid had been on the planet with you, it’s still judged to be out of their concern.

~~~

Cassian had promised to meet you in the canteen, the small amount of rations allocated to you piled on the plate across from him as he watches the door eagerly, waiting for you.

He missed you terribly, everything around reminding him of you- that trinket in the market, the wind chimes that the local population strung everywhere, the warmth of the sun on his skin… You would’ve loved that planet, and he couldn’t share it with you… probably can’t ever go back there while the Empire still has its strangulating grip on the galaxy…

You’re his best friend, and that’s enough… Even though catching sight of you coming through the canteen doors makes his heart stutter, meeting your eyes and watching as your face morphs from a frown to a smile that rivals the sun of Kenari in its brightness.

“Good meeting?” He smiles as you sit opposite him, a thick coat around you now instead of the blanket. Much better for keeping you warm.

“Mm,” you nod, “Signed off missions for a few weeks. Gotta rest and recuperate, apparently.”

“I’m sure Clover will be thrilled.” He grins.

“Stuck on this planet? I doubt it. She’s so hard to please.”

Cassian laughs, “Hanging out with Kay should improve her mood, hm? They can trade stories about their silly humans.”

“You’re sticking around too then?”

“For a little while. We can freeze together. Or bury ourselves in a pile of blankets.”

“Sounds perfect.”

~~~

The day passes quickly - and not simply because the base is near to one of the planet’s poles and sunlight is limited. The slight amount of heat it provides amongst the ice hills and frozen plains disappears with the light, plunging the ill-equipped base into temperatures that surely must come close to getting dipped in carbonite.

The only benefit to nightfall here - like most deserted planets - is the sight of the stars. And with outside not much colder than inside, Cassian takes the opportunity to sit at the base’s entrance and watch them, a hot flask of Caf cradled in his hands. You join him with your own, side by side, huddled close beneath the thickest blanket you could find.

“Yes!” He rasps, grinning widely, “I wanted you to see this.”

You frown, sparing a glance at him to see him watching the sky. You follow his gaze, squinting as you try to focus on everything but the feel of his thigh pressed up against yours, sharing his body heat… it’s the closest you can get- as best friends… even if you want to scooch closer and end up with your back against his chest.

“Oh!” You gasp, finally spotting it- green and red ripples across the sky, purple in places where the colours bleed together, an aurora bursting to life above you. “Oh, Cassian… It’s beautiful.”

He smiles, staring at the side of your face, “Yeah, it is.”

You scoff, nudging him with your elbow, “Says the guy who saw the Eye on Aldhani.”

He frowns, “Shh. I wasn’t supposed to tell you that.”

“You tell me everything.” You counter, “Most things.”

“Most things.” He nods. Not everything. He looks up at the sky again, then back to you… “You wanna know something else?”

“Hm?” You smile.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

You turn your head so fast you almost give yourself whiplash, staring in surprise, “What?”

“You heard me.” He whispers, suddenly flustered, “I understand if you don’t want to pursue-“

“Kiss me?” You interrupt, “Cassian. Kassa. I know I’m in love with you. Kiss me.”

And so he does.

~~~

Taglist: @the-little-ewok @yours-truly-r​ @princessxkenobi​ @wildmoonflower​ @practicalghost​ @concussed-dragon​ @aurelacrystal​ @salome-c​ @miraclesabound​ @amneris21​ @withakindheartx​ @harriedandharassed​ @alexxavicry​ @honestly-shite​ 

[incognitajones]

A short post-episode vignette for episode 7 of Andor, based on a weird prompt I came across that grabbed me and wouldn’t leave me alone. I’m posting it mainly because it’s already a week late, and because I’m curious whether it makes any sense outside my head... 

[thank you, everyone who commented on this, reblogged, or liked it! I posted a cleaned-up version on AO3]

we will not meet in this world

Cassian wasn’t where he was supposed to be.

Something was off—he could tell, even with his eyes closed. It was too cold and quiet, for one thing, and the sheets weren’t silky smooth. When he opened them, it was darker than the tourist strip ever got, no lambent background glow.

A power outage? No, he could just make out the shadows of a low wood-beamed ceiling overhead instead of the duracrete arches of his hotel room.

This wasn’t where he’d fallen asleep. Shit. 

How the hell had he wound up here? He hadn't taken anything last night, but there’d been a lot of spice floating around at the club... Still, there was no way he could have absorbed enough to black out just from breathing. Someone must have slipped him something, if he was losing time. He closed his eyes again and retraced his steps at the end of the night once, twice, but that only brought him to the place he should have been: in bed with Windi at the hotel.

Someone murmured sleepily, and a body rolled over, away from him. Cassian turned his head and discovered a tousled head of straight hair and a pale-skinned shoulder that definitely didn’t belong to Windi.

He’d fucked up big somehow.

His clothes weren’t on the floor beside the bed, but at least he was wearing someone else’s soft sleeping pants. Another change he didn’t remember.

He slid noiselessly out from under the thin blanket, shivering as his bare feet hit the floor and the chill crept over his bare chest. When had the temperature dropped so low? No window in this bedroom, so he couldn’t tell where he was. Underground, maybe… he’d heard the seedier parts of town were dug back into the cliffs.

The single door opened into a tiny kitchen. One small window showed a square of lights: a glittering grid of city lights below and stars above, divided by the sharp black silhouette of a mountain range.

Mountains? There were no mountains in Niamos—

A dim light flicked on behind him, and he jumped.

“Cassian?” a soft voice mumbled around a yawn. “What’s wrong?”

Fuck. Normally Cassian was an expert at getting out of bed without waking his partners. Another sign he was fucked up. And he’d be fucked over worse if he didn’t figure out who this was and why the hells he’d told them his real name.

He turned, slowly, to look at the woman whose bed he’d woken up in. She was small, wiry muscle and loose brown hair falling into a face that was sweet, pointed chin and snub nose. She could have been any age from twenty to thirty, and she wasn’t wearing anything but a long-sleeved shirt that hung to her thighs and a pair of thick socks.

She knew him, even if he had no idea who she was. He hadn’t blacked out in years. This was not good.

She shuffled across the floor straight to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, laying her head on his chest. Cassian froze, pinned against the counter by her negligible weight. He could feel her breath stirring the hair on his chest, giving him goosebumps. The last time someone had hugged him—just held him—when had it been? Maarva, maybe, the day he got back from prison, or Bix the last time she’d dumped him, when she’d told him he was a mess and needed to get himself together before anyone would want him long term.

“Couldn’t sleep either?”

He gingerly rested his fingertips on her shoulders, trying to seem relaxed. “No.”

“Is it your back?”

There was nothing wrong with his back, never had been, but her casual certainty almost made him doubt. Cassian swallowed. “No,” he repeated.

“I’ll make some tea, then.” The woman released him and moved over to the other side of the kitchen. She reached automatically into the cupboard for a canister of tea and two mugs—her home, then.

Cassian’s eyes jerked around the small space, searching for any other clue, but it was just a kitchen, clean but shabby. He turned his head to look out the window again and his reflection stared back, cast on the dark glass by the light behind him.

That wasn’t him. It looked like him, but the beard he’d shaved off was back again. His hair was longer, brushing the sides of his jaw. And that looked like strands of grey in both.

Cassian exhaled as relief washed over him. A dream, then. Just a dream that was way too convincingly mundane, and he’d wake up in a few minutes only half-remembering it.

The woman sat down at a wobbly table and pushed one mug over to the other side. For lack of anything better to do, Cassian sat down across from her and sipped at it. He wasn’t much of a tea drinker, but it was strong and sweet. Under the table, a pair of feet wound casually around his ankles. His hand jerked, slopping more into his mouth than he could swallow, and he coughed.

She grinned at him and he smiled weakly back. He looked down at his hands wrapped around the mug and his fingers twitched again at the sight of dark lines tattooed around his left wrist, with a coiled knot over the pulse point. A Kenari lifebraid… he hadn’t seen one of them since his parents died.

“You’re really not okay,” she said, and it wasn’t a question. Cassian only shrugged. His brain wasn’t functioning well enough to come up with an excuse that would work. Not that he had to, for a dream.

“Come back to bed,” she said, reaching out across the table and taking his hand. “Staying up all night won’t help.”

She had a matching lifebraid on her own wrist, just visible under the loose cuff of her sleeve.

Cassian hid his face behind his mug and took another swallow of tea. This bizarre dream had turned too intense, giving him what felt like a home and someone who he’d trusted enough to tell about his past—to marry, by the custom of his lost family. Who the karking hell was she? She had enough scars that she could have been a bounty hunter or an ex-gang member, but she didn’t have any visible tattoos except the one on her wrist.

A thin wail came through the closed door and she winced. “I had to jinx it, didn’t I.”

With a sigh, she got up and slipped through the door, leaving it open a crack behind her. She didn’t turn the bedroom light on, but Cassian heard rustling blankets and a soft shushing, interrupted by indistinct hiccuping cries.

Cassian blinked. That noise could only come from a kid—a young one. There was a baby in the other room and he hadn’t even noticed it.

She came back into the kitchen holding a bundle of patchwork blankets with a tuft of dark hair. “There’s dada,” she crooned. “See?”

The bundle looked at him and if he’d been standing, Cassian would have fallen to the floor. Kerri’s dark eyes looked at him out of a scrunched up face that resembled her so strongly it took the air out of his lungs. He didn’t know exactly how old he’d been when Kerri was born, but he’d been old enough to remember her just like this: a chubby, scowling baby with skeptical eyes.

He pinched his wrist under the table, hard. This dream wasn’t entertaining anymore. A quiet life in a small plain room on a cold planet, a spouse… both of them were laughably off base, but a child? That was disturbing.

“Now that she’s seen you, she’s not going back down.” She pushed the bundle at him, setting it in his arms, and he had to accept it or let it drop. He stared down at the baby, its unblinking stare focused somewhere around his chin. Tiny fingers latched on to the edge of the blanket and then splayed out, reaching for his hair.

He didn’t react quickly enough and the baby got a fistful of the ends with a yank. He hissed in pain and grabbed the fat little hand, gently prying it open. The kid wouldn’t let go, but clamped around his index finger and held on. With a bubbling sigh, the heavy head drooped onto his chest.

The woman laughed softly, cupping the back of the baby's head and stroking its back before lifting her hand to push his hair out of his face and behind his ear. Her hand lingered on his cheek. She leaned down and kissed him at the corner of his mouth. “Come back to bed,” she murmured against his beard. “Lie down and stay warm at least. I’ll rub your neck. And if we’re lucky, maybe she’ll sleep…”

Cassian stared down at her. His mind turned over and over itself in a useless circle. He could always come up with the right thing to say, to make people see what he wanted them to, but he was lost. The affection in her eyes and her touch didn’t match anything he was, anything he deserved. Who was she seeing?

The dark lines woven on his arm curled around the baby caught his eye again. A dream, that’s what. No-one else in the galaxy knew what that design meant, no-one would have their love for him etched on their body. Cassian was lonely and stoned and his mind had constructed a flimsy fantasy to comfort him. He might as well sink under and enjoy it before he woke with the worst hangover of his life.

He followed her to the rumpled bed. She sat with her back against the wall and Cassian inched carefully on to the bed beside her, trying not to jostle the baby. She drew him down until his head lay on her shoulder and the baby was nestled between them, fenced from the edge of the mattress. “Rest.”

Cassian wasn’t sure he wanted to. The sooner he did, presumably, the sooner he’d wake up. But his body was already relaxing into the warmth of hers.

She pressed a kiss to his forehead. Cassian could have pretended to be asleep, but instead he turned his head and let his lips brush the skin over her collarbone. The baby snorted in its ball of blankets.

*

The next time Cassian opened his eyes, it was late morning: the fierce sun of Niamos was already lancing in through the half-open blinds. His head ached, his arms felt empty. He rolled over, and Windi was there, asleep with one hand caught under her face.

Things made sense again; his brain wasn’t telling him impossible things, and the hollow carved in his chest was normal. He glanced down at his bare wrist before he got up and went into the fresher. It was time to check on practical things: weapon, credits, anything else that might be useful. The water on his face was cold and bracing, and if he looked worse than usual in the mirror that didn’t mean anything. This was where he belonged.

* * *

The title is from this poem, and the prompt (in case it didn’t come through at all) was “a time travel AU where one character goes 10 years into the future for a night; as soon as they wake up, they’re back in their own timeline”

[buckybarnesss]

No but

Seriously

There's something so so so so HEALING and beautiful about the people of Ferrix welcoming Cassian back with open arms after Maarvas death like!! Yes they overreacted and thought that it was his fault that the Imps stayed at the beginning, but but but

Then they stayed under the Empire's oppressive rule and they realized MAN this SUCKS!!! Oh man this really sucks!!

And then they realized Maarva is sick and they try to take care of her, but they also knew rhat the only person she'd keep herself alive for is not there (AND while I have Many opinions about her but but)

And then she dies, and EVERYTHING stops!!

Everything!! Maarva's boy wants to come back home for the funeral. They make it happen.

They hug him so tight. They ask him what can they do to help. He says he's gonna take on an Imperial garrison by himself, and they say, okay, how can we help?

God this show!!!

bestie you are so right.

it's all about ✨community✨

if i could put a name on one aspect of andor that i truly loved it was how it really put the emphasis on the community over the individual.

the empire is individualistic. it is isolating. it severs one from their community so that they are left without support, without a safety net. they climb over each other, backstab and scheme to curry favor, to get recognition and glory and do not share it.

blevin tells dedra that when she falls she falls alone.

dedra is not saved by anyone in the empire when she's being kicked around and pulled apart by the crowd. it is syril -- someone on the outside that takes the risk to save her because he feels a connection to her.

syril is driven by his lack of community. he's hungry for it. he is consumed by need for it. he seeks it in all the wrong places and for much of the season we see him adrift. we see how little he cares about his mother but how can he when she constantly cuts him to the quick? we see his uninspiring speech to the men he is sending to their deaths because he refused to heed the warning about ferrix doing things their own way and so to feel big and in control he wields his petty authority against others which turns an entire community against him. it's part of why he latches onto dedra the way he does.

the prisoners of narkina 5 escape as a group of people acting as a whole. they are shown helping others climb up to freedom instead of over each other. kino tells them to help each other. on kenari we see the orphaned children had built a community that cared for each other and kassa was taken from that. years later cassian is still deeply hurt by this loss even if he finds another community. we see the people of ferrix rallying together. they warn each other of the pre-mor enforcement, the daughter's of ferrix care for maarva as she dies and ensure the traditional funerary rites are given to her.

brasso i would say is the character that is the biggest part of this theme. his care for cassian, bix, bee and maarva are his entire character. he is kind and compassionate. he saves wilmon from being killed during the riot. he is the one to carry maarva's brick in cassian's stead. this is a man who loves deep, hard and openly. he cares. the rebels are all about community. they are building a network. they reach out to others who feel the same as they do. they say you don't have to be alone in this fight. not to say the rebels do not sacrifice or it is without it's costs but we see it again and again that this is a group who cares about others outside of themselves.

mon mothma continues to try to help the ghorman despite her pleas falling on deaf ears. vel's rebel cell on aldhani takes advantage of a local custom of gathering as a community as cover to do the heist. a custom the empire shows nothing but contempt for whereas gorn and nemik show interest and knowledge of.

luthen's cover is an antique's dealer that sells off people's cultures. remember he tells that one woman she can just make up whatever that language said? his cover is the apathy and disregard the empire has for other cultures.

community is also vital to rogue one.

jyn is a character that is very alone at the start. she is lost in a lot of ways but she gains a community. she gains people. cassian says "welcome home" and even for the short time she has left she has a place amongst these people.

at the very end, on that beach on scarif -- cassian and jyn -- two people who lost everything over and over and over -- they had each other. they reached for each other and held on when the end came. the empire didn't win.

love thy neighbor as thyself and greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends

that is why the empire could never win. not with cassian and jyn, not with ezra bridger, and not with luke skywalker.

[notasapleasure]

Only ever just one night

Andor (TV series), Cassian Andor/Brasso, M, post-season 1, hurt/comfort, FWB with a smidge of regretful angst. 5-6,000 words.

Sometime after season 1. No, I can't remember if they say where they're escaping to at the end of Rix Road, so I just landed everyone in a refugee camp on an unnamed planet.

Cassian's just left a bad job behind, and he needs the kind of rocksure familiarity and comfort that Luthen just doesn't deal in. He knows his handler will track him down, but for just one night he has to snatch hold of the most reliable love left to him.

Author's note: the hug that launched a thousand ships, take two! I kept seeing people talk about how Cass and Brasso have definitely hooked up at some point, and I agree wholeheartedly. I understand there is An Audience for E fic rather than M fic. If the brain worms persist then I'm sure that can be arranged.

"I love him more than anything he could ever do wrong"

- Brasso, quoting Maarva Andor.

Midnight is getting nearer

I see you clearer

Now that you’re gone

The smoke towers rise all in a row

Shifting in the afterglow

I see the light I hear the sound

But I’m always on the wrong side of town

(John Boden - Wrong Side of Town)

---

There isn't really a knock at the make-shift door. More a scuffing of barked knuckles against durasteel, a quiet sigh that seems weighty enough to push the metal sheet aside. Two stumbling, shuffling steps in the dirt -

Brasso's on his feet beside his cot. He's unarmed, but most of the opportunistic thieves the refugee camp harbours don't need more than a quick look at him - and his empty shack - to know it isn't worth it. Still, he's tired, it's kriffing late, and his boiler suit hangs around his waist, half-undone in readiness for sleep, leaving his chest and arms chilled in nothing but a vest.

He holds his breath, a weary retort on his tongue ready for launch - and then he sees half of a shadow appear in the gap between durasteel panels. It's only a shoulder, a bowed head, one leg shaking with effort, one hand clutching the metal for support, but Brasso knows that half-shadow like he knows how to find the flaws in salvaged Beskar. He'd know any fraction of that shadow, and he doesn't hesitate to rush forwards now, his arms opening to catch his guest.

Cassian is shivering and doesn't even look up as he tumbles into Brasso's hold. He buries his face against vest and skin and Brasso feels the cool, damp air of night on Cassian's face and hair and clothes.

"Cass..." the syllable is squeezed from Brasso's lungs by the grip around his body. Cassian may be the worse for wear, but his strength hasn't ebbed. Brasso never could work out where he stored it all in that wirey little frame, but once again, just as it always was, he feels like he's caught in a vice when he's in Cassian's arms - his heart aches and breathing has become difficult.

"I shouldn't be here," Cassian says softly. His head is still pressed to Brasso's chest and his words tickle in the hairs of Brasso's body.

"No..." Brasso agrees. "You should have been on that transport with us. Where did you go?"

Cassian's hands are locked together behind Brasso's shoulders, desperate, honest in a way the rest of him so rarely is. He shifts at last, raising his chin above Brasso's shoulder and leaning his head into Brasso's as he sighs again. "I..." his throat moves against Brasso's collarbone. "I had a debt to pay. I can't stay long. I have to go back."

There's gravel in his voice, it's sandblasted and wind-beaten. The soft Kenari accent - Brasso's known for years it wasn't Festian, and Cass has probably forgotten the time he told him that story - is more pronounced, the way it is when he's tired or hurt or afraid. Brasso tightens his own hold and massages the neck of Cassian's jacket with his big hand. He leans back against Cassian's head, breathes in the familiar and the unfamiliar - there's a smell about a person's hair that's just them, no matter what ointments or perfumes they use after the sonic shower, no matter the remnants of the forge or the scrapyard caught in it. But mingled with that scent, the scent of Brasso's dear friend, there's something sinister. It reminds him of ozone and blood, of the strange sterile odour of fresh-laundered Imperial uniforms.

"You should stay," Brasso says automatically, emphatically, though he understands that Cassian won't. Can't. If he was here to stay, Brasso would have known it already.

Cassian lets out a dry laugh and his body judders in Brasso's arms, so Brasso has an illusory moment of victory, where it feels like he's able to squeeze Cass even closer. "I've brought you guys enough trouble," Cassian murmurs. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come."

"Cass..." Brasso repeats his name with all the gentleness he knows and tries to pry their bodies apart, to get a good look at his friend in the dim glow of the camp light.

It's like trying to get into a clamfruit with his bare hands - Cassian just clings to him for dear life. Whatever he says about the fact he shouldn't have come, he doesn't seem to be in a hurry to leave.

The ache in Brasso's heart is starting to feel like something piercing now, starting to spread through him and mutate into something as near to panic as he's ever felt. What's he worried about? Where Cass has been? Why he's back? What Brasso's going to feel all over again while he's here? He's trapped in Cassian's arms and he can't do anything except hold onto him just as tightly in return.

"Cass, Bix is just next door. Bee is with her. You should see how well she's doing. They're both doing. Wilmon's been helping, he's found a way to juice Bee's charger -" he's babbling and he knows it. Too long like this and he always starts to feel out of his depth, ready to do any rash thing he needs to do to keep Cass with him, to keep him close and talking and to get him to smile up at Brasso with that guarded, mischievous twinkle in his eyes. This is all too much, when - before tonight - Brasso had so little hope of ever seeing him again. But this is how it always is with Cass - he materialises from the dark night when he needs Brasso, and disappears again before he can admit to it.

"Come on Cass, Bix'll want to see you. She'll want to thank you," he tries to extricate himself from the hug once more, and this time Cassian allows him a measure of success.

Cassian steps back a little and looks up at Brasso: ever the thin-lipped, wary-eyed boy, his face gaunt with shadows. He blinks and the shutters he wears over his feelings seem to fall open for a breath - Brasso sees the longing, the thirst for company and for friendship, for love and connection. He also sees the red in his eyes and the blood at his hairline; the bruised cheekbone and the high collar that doesn't quite hide further damage.

"I can't," Cassian murmurs. He holds Brasso's gaze, and all the words they've never needed to say out loud underscore his point. "I don't want to...remind her. Especially if she's doing well."

"Remind her?" Brasso feels the words between his teeth, wavering with horror and protectiveness. One hand is still on Cassian's arm and it grips Cass with contrary force - though Brasso swears his brain is trying to send it signals to let go.

Cassian's lips all but disappear in his grimace.

"What have they done to you? Who did this?" Brasso jogs him a little by that one arm. He doesn't know what he'd do with an honest answer, but he knows he's got to ask nonetheless.

Cassian shakes his head - that funny, rolling movement of his neck where it's like he's nodding and saying no all at once. "Can't..." he begins.

Brasso dips his chin and raises his brows. "Can't tell me? Ok. What can I do?"

Cassian's mouth moves again, a puckered argument between emotions tying up his words. "I know he's going to find me here. It won't take him long," he says hoarsely.

"No Cass, we'll hide you, we'll -"

What else is Brasso meant to say? He's no idea what this is about - the same trouble as before? It's more trouble than a few Ferrixian refugees can do anything about. But he's got to offer anyway.

"No. He'll come and I'll go with him. He won't touch the rest of you. But I just...before I go back, I just wanted to remember what it was like," his voice has gone even quieter.

Brasso frowns kindly at him. His thumb moves reassuringly over Cass's shoulder, his fingers grip his arm and offer strength. "What's that, then?"

Cassian snorts again, no humour in it. But there's that glint in his dark eyes that Brasso's been dreaming about, and his vibroblade-sharp mouth quirks up at the corner. "You remember the nights Maarva and I would row."

The pain in Brasso's heart has become a burning furnace, a roaring white heat inside him. He stares down into Cass's rich brown eyes and gives a brave nod. "I remember. Remember the night Bix kicked you out. And the other one, what's her name -"

"Yeah," Cassian licks his lips nervously and finally breaks Brasso's gaze. "Yeah, that too."

"I'm here, Cass. What do you need?"

Brasso hears his own voice too loud in his ears, too gruff, too ruffled by emotion. His cheeks feel hot, so does the skin above the neckline of his vest.

"Just one night," Cassian says hollowly. He blinks up at Brasso, his eyes unexpectedly glassy.

Brasso merely nods - it's only ever just one night. The first time it happened he believed those words and afterwards, ablaze with memories of that one night, he had come to regret agreeing to it - he'd burned through the long sleepless hours between the first time and the second, convinced that he'd just learned what it was he truly wanted only to be denied any repeat of it. Then there had been a second 'just one night'. A third. Brasso had begun to understand that just one night actually meant something else when Cassian said it. It meant I trust you. I need you too much to ruin it by staying longer. I'll be back. I'll always need to come back.

Brasso brings him close again and Cassian sighs in his hold. They lean their cheeks together and Brasso closes his eyes and tries to concentrate on what he remembers of Cassian from before the job that changed it all: his tense, slim body and his silken hair, the urgency with which he cleaves to Brasso. Not the lingering damage that's been done to him, not the sense that there's some kind of...ownership there never used to be, tugging like a leash round Cass's neck the whole time.

Gently, slowly, Brasso leads him to the bedside and by the glow of the lamp he peels Cass's greatcoat back from his shoulders.

Cass winces but shrugs the heavy, dark cloth back. Here, Brasso can see the waxy darkness beneath his eyes, the subcutaneous blood in the bruises on his hands.

Cass doesn't want to remind Bix of what she went through. Torture. Brasso names it in his mind. That's what she went through and that's what's been done to Cass, too.

Brasso is hot as a forge with anger - if he had the people who did this within reach he's confident he could break them apart with his own two hands.

Cass knows it too and doesn't meet Brasso's eyes as he tugs at the fastenings of his tunic. He flinches and takes a sudden gasp of air when Brasso's patience gives in and he reaches for Cass, taking his biceps in his big hands, bending intently to look in his eyes before he kisses him.

There's no hesitation or surprise in Cass's response - this is what he came for. He's silent, but he leans back into the kiss, all sharpness gone from his lips, tension fading selectively from his muscles.

His fists press against Brasso's chest and then his fingers twine round the straps of his vest. The fabric just stretches when Cass tries to pull Brasso near by it, so Cass has to step into him again, craning up into the kiss, his mouth open, his urgent breath the only sound he makes.

Brasso's not as good at being quiet - never has been, not under these circumstances. He draws Cass into his arms and murmurs sounds of appreciation at the feel of their bodies warming up together. He's firm but gentle with his hands, conscious of the bruising he saw hints of, needing, even so, to let Cass know how much he's loved and wanted.

And he is so very loved.

Brasso's known there's no other word for it since the beginning, really. There's never been anyone else like Cass in his life - anyone he could communicate wordlessly with, anyone he could repeatedly offer everything to, and know that they'd never abuse that offer. He knows Cass has no one else like him either, no one else who can do this and ask no more of him.

They don't speak now - there's nothing to say. When the rest of Cass's injuries are laid bare, Brasso runs delicate fingertips over the bruises, his expression heartbroken. Cass just lifts his hand away, kisses the palm, and replaces Brasso's touch elsewhere on his body. They carry on as before, and Brasso tries, once more, to think of what hasn't changed instead of what has.

Cass still kisses like it's his last night in the universe - fierce and hungry, his beard catching in Brasso's stubble, his moustache tickling his nose. He's still scrawny and still strong - a stitch cracks in protest when he tugs on Brasso's vest again and Brasso lets out a grunt of surprise at the force with which Cass's hand on his arse pulls him close. His fingers are clever, rubbing circles in the hollows of Brasso's spine, in the thick hair at the nape of his neck.

Cass steps back and squirms his arms free of his dark tunic. He holds Brasso's gaze, daring him to look away, to go searching his body for the damage that's been done to it.

Brasso just clenches his jaw, presses his lips together, and waits. Lets Cassian unbutton his own trousers, kick off his own boots, finish this striptease as quickly as he can. Cass's legs shake a little again when he has to put his whole weight on one and then the other.

Cass knows Brasso can see this weakness; he knows Brasso would sweep him off his feet if Cass's pride allowed it.

Brasso's too familiar with this routine to try it - Cass's guard comes down when Cass allows it to, and no sooner. They'll get to that point. Brasso presses his lips together and runs his tongue over them in anticipation of it. For now, he allows himself the softest touch on Cassian's arm, runs his fingers and palm against the grain of dark hairs, up past his elbow. Brasso encourages Cass to come back to him and Cass does, his expression still a mask, still a warning against any attempts to breach his defenses.

Brasso knows that'll change. That's another memory he can bring up: Cass at peace, happy in his arms. Brasso kisses him again, tasting blood and the staleness of deprivation - hunger, thirst, asphyxiation. He's going to kiss him until those flavours are banished, he's going to kiss him until Cassian forgets how they - no point asking who they are, when it comes down to it there's only ever one answer to that - starved him and isolated him and...and whatever else they did. Brasso cups his chin in his hands and feels Cass's body lean into the kiss, into Brasso's hold, drawn in like a wreck in a tractor beam.

Cass's fingers work beneath the hem of Brasso's vest, into the warm waistline of his boiler suit. He pulls the cloth up and Brasso feels that momentary tremor of doubt at the exposure - can Cass really want this? Want him?

It might not be clear from his expression yet; his eyes are low, watching his hands work away at the last fastenings of Brasso's clothes. His mouth is pinched again, but his breathing has picked up speed. Brasso can see that skinny, bruised chest rise and fall in the dim light, can see the hue of Cass's cheeks and tight lips - even if he couldn't see the more obvious sign of Cass's arousal he'd still know.

Only when they're both naked does Cass really come close, really let Brasso hold him like they've both been longing for. Brasso's touch sweeps down Cass's back and then he grips him under the arse and lifts him into his arms. Cass comes eagerly, his tired legs wrapping round Brasso's hips. He squeezes Brasso's body until his exhausted muscles shake with the effort, but Brasso's got him, his slight form is weightless in Brasso's arms.

Cass leans down to kiss him, their heights reversed, Cass's fingers making a mess of Brasso's short, sensible haircut. Brasso can barely taste the blood in his mouth anymore and he makes another tender sound as he lays Cass down on his tiny bed.

The thaw is starting in earnest now - Cass knots his hands in Brasso's hair, leans up into their kisses, pulls at Brasso's lower lip with his teeth and breathes with a ragged sound deep in his throat.

Brasso's worried about his battered body and holds himself above Cass, propped up on his thick arms, his hips slotted neatly between Cass's, though he doesn't let himself push down on the body beneath him.

Eventually, Cass is forced to let out a hoarse whisper: "Closer. Come closer, Brasso..."

The sound of his name on Cass's lips is almost enough to make him obey, but Brasso squeezes his eyes shut and nuzzles Cass's nose between kisses. "I don't want to hurt you, Cass..."

"You won't hurt me." There's no hesitation. Brasso can hear the need in Cass's voice now and he opens his eyes to drink in the expression Cass is wearing. His whole face seems to soften when he's here in Brasso's bed - there's new colour in his warm brown eyes, his cheeks look fuller, there's even the rumour of a dimple by the corner of his mouth. "You won't hurt me," he repeats, smiling.

Ok then - Brasso nods, he knows he looks dazed, like someone's dropped a kriffing anvil on his head. It's always a surprise to him that Cass wants to be here, it's always a wonder.

Cass lies back and pulls Brasso down on top of him and even moans a little when Brasso kisses him and nestles down against Cass's hips. Then that's that - no more dithering for Brasso. He has the lube in a chest beneath the bed and he fishes for it one-handed as he rocks against Cass and Cass arches up into him.

He's as gentle as he can be to begin with and Cass is a whole other person in his arms - all sharp edges gone, all barriers lowered, all disguises dropped. His hands seem to be everywhere at once, covering the territory of Brasso's broad back, squeezing the flesh of his thighs and his flanks, urging him faster, harder, closer.

Gentleness comes naturally but so does the frenzy Cass drives him to - Brasso responds to the open palm that strikes his arse, to Cass's short nails scoring down his shoulder-blades, Cass's teeth on his lip, his earlobe, his jaw. Brasso's sweating like he's been welding parts all day, his blood is pumping faster than its done since the funeral, he can't taste any of the recent hurt on Cassian's mouth anymore - it's just him, stripped of pretence and others' expectations.

He tries to slip a hand between their bodies, to make sure Cass is really getting all the pleasure he deserves from this, but Cass pushes him arm aside. "I don't need it, just you. Just...keep going. Harder." His voice is rough as his beard against Brasso's ear, but he leans his cheek against Brasso's with tenderness even as their bodies move recklessly together.

Brasso used to wonder what Cass was punishing himself for when he asked him to go harder, used to worry that Cass fantasised about Brasso without the gentleness he'd cultivated and nurtured and wore with such dignity and pride. But somewhere along the way he'd realised it wasn't like that at all - it was about Cass's trust in him, about Cass needing Brasso to insist he deserved this love, about Cass feeling it, feeling good, because Brasso could scale his defenses and keep him in a place where he let himself feel it. And it's hard to deny that, for all his prided gentleness, it feels good to know he can push himself with Cassian, to enjoy his body's strength and power in a place that isn't the scrapyard. It makes him ecstatic - the only feeling that's come close was when he'd heeded Maarva's command and kicked that Imp in the chest, smacked that other one in the chops with Maarva's funerary brick. That had felt good. Satisfying. But it wasn't as satisfying as this - Brasso prefers to use his body's power to bring Cassian pleasure rather than to bring pain, even where it's justified.

Cass is silent as ever when he comes, his face in Brasso's neck, his hands clasped behind Brasso's back. He just shudders, his legs tangled round Brasso's body, soft but clinging determinedly to him.

Brasso tries - he always tries - to be as quiet as Cass, but a grunt of effort so easily becomes a whine of release, and he presses his mouth to Cassian's skin to try to stifle the sound. Cass is holding the back of his head and arching into him with a gasp and Brasso feels his own body tremble, feels himself turn to liquid in the heat of the forge, ready to be remade, ready to remake.

They kiss, they're in no hurry to move apart. Brasso rocks his hips gently against Cass and Cass strokes over the scratches on his back and the stinging red skin on his arse. They don't need words for this part either - they'll clean up when they're ready, and then they'll make this narrow cot as comfortable as they can.

This is how it started, Brasso recalls as Cass tucks the thin blanket around them and reaches out to switch the camp light off. He'd needed a place to go when he'd made a fuss at home - he hadn't been letting himself mourn Clem and Force knows, Maarva hadn't been coping well either. He'd needed tenderness, not judgement, kindness without a lecture. He'd needed to sleep without the aid of nog or anything else, and Brasso's big arms were where he found what he needed. It had only been in the morning, when he'd turned to face Brasso beneath the covers and they'd both been blindsided by desire, that this ritual of just one night had really begun.

Now Brasso feels the cold durasteel wall at his back, but Cass's body is warm and vital in his arms, fitting snugly with his shoulder blades to Brasso's chest. Brasso snuggles his face into Cass's soft hair and into the crook of his shoulder, breathes him in, and Cass holds Brasso's arms closed tight around his body.

By the time Brasso murmurs, "Sleep well, Cass," he realises Cass has already dropped off. His breathing is soft and his head is a dead weight on Brasso's bicep, but for now there's no sign of the trauma he must have fled to come here. He's at peace, and that means Brasso can relax too.

The camp is never really quiet, but you get used to the nighttime sounds fairly quickly - none of them interfere with Brasso's sleep anymore. So he's not really clear on what wakes him to the purple darkness of the shack, long before morning comes.

Cass is still there in his arms, still sleeping heavily. So heavily that Brasso's fingers have gone dead and the nerve endings in his arm are tingling in protest. Oh well. It's worth it, Brasso thinks, gazing blearily at the spot where the shadows suggest Cass's cheek is. He plants a gentle kiss there and only then notices that the durasteel sheet he uses as a door was never put back properly. It's not open much, but there's enough of a gap that he can see the cold glow from the distant airbase's flood lights.

His pulse spikes so suddenly and so violently that he's sure Cass will feel his heart like a hammer in his back, but Cass is asleep and doesn't notice the figure at the doorway. Brasso's arm is trapped and he has no weapons anyway - what does this pervert want?

Brasso can't see much - the man (he thinks) is a silhouette, with a scarf drawn up over the lower half of his face. He turns a little to glance down the street and when he does Brasso can see his eyes, and they make him shudder. A spy's eyes. Hooded and expressionless, coldly assessing. Like Cass's were before he came to Brasso's bed.

He swallows bravely and waits to make sure the man knows he's awake, knows he's seen him. Then he says, as quietly as he can, "He's coming back to you tomorrow. He told me he was going back."

The silhouette is still and silent, and Brasso can't see his response. Cass sleeps on, oblivious in a deep rest he rarely allows himself.

Finally: "I know," says the silhouette. "Tell him to come to landing pad 4R-1."

He leaves, and pulls the durasteel across as he goes.

Brasso can hear his blood rush and he begins to doubt himself - what if this man is the one who tortured Cassian? Whose game has Brasso just agreed to play? Scenarios he can't possibly predict run through his mind with futile urgency until he drops off into a shallow, uneasy sleep, and by the time he wakes again it's light and he still has no idea what to say about the figure at the door. It can't have been a dream because the durasteel has definitely been closed with more care than Cass had been capable of last night.

Cass is sitting on the bed, tousled and sleepy-looking. The blanket is drawn round his slight shoulders and he's holding a mug of kaf - in the one mug Brasso owns.

"Are you checking the locks?" Cass asks, amusement making his voice warm, that Kenari lisp now smooth and sweet, polished clean of exhaustion.

Brasso turns from the door and folds his arms. He's wearing his underclothes in a concession to the cold bite in the morning air, and he contemplates saying nothing about the man who was there in the night. Cass seems so carefree right now - his smile is mischievous and his eyes glitter with wit. Maybe Brasso should just let him sort his own affairs out - he comes to Brasso to get away from them, doesn't he? Not because he wants a messenger?

Brasso doesn't give himself a chance to take this thought seriously though - honesty is as crucial to their friendship as anything else Cass comes here for.

"There was someone here last night. I was awake and I saw them."

Cassian's expression clouds over immediately. "What do you mean?" he tries to keep his voice light, but Brasso can already see him rebuilding the walls, bricking himself back into the suspicious, uneasy persona that keeps him safe. "A thief?"

Brasso shakes his head. "One of yours, I think." Whatever 'yours' means.

Cassian's brows rise. His expression briefly echoes Brasso's unspoken aside, but then he tucks his chin inwards indignantly. "Excuse me?"

Brasso sighs. "You said he'd find you. I'm guessing that's what happened. But that's all it is, Cass - a guess. If you don't tell me -"

Cassian tilts his head and gives Brasso a look that says: really? But he doesn't stand or rush to get dressed and leave. He clutches the mug of kaf and frowns.

"What did you see? What did he say?"

Brasso describes what little he saw and what little the silhouette in the doorway said. He describes his voice and his accent, and Cass is already nodding at his kaf.

"That's him, yeah. He can wait a while this morning."

The response surprises Brasso, who finally returns to the bed and sits down next to Cass. Carefully, he reaches over and plucks the mug from Cass's fingers and turns it so he can hold the handle, each gesture gentle and measured. "Want to tell me who he is? What all this is about?" He takes a sip of kaf, trying to act casual about it all.

Cass sighs and leans into Brasso's arm, though he doesn't look at him. "No... it's better if you don't know. I work for him, that's all. He wants a report on the last job."

Brasso glances at him, takes in the indiscriminate bruising on his body. "Hm. The job that you got those from." There's no point making it a question.

Cass snorts and gives a rolling shake of his head. "Of course. It's ok, I did what he needed me to do. The debrief isn't time sensitive. That's why..." he chuckles again at his own expense and looks at his marked hands. "That's why I came. Sorry, Brasso. I know it's not fair."

This really sends a chill down Brasso's spine - he's not used to quite this level of honesty from Cass, definitely not on the morning after. He hesitates, studying the greasy black surface of the kaf, and then he hands it back to Cass and wraps an arm around his skinny shoulders. "Fair? Fark that, Cass. I'm just glad to know you're still alive," Brasso sighs - there was more truth in that than he'd intended, too. "And...and I just want to remind you that if you need help, any sort of help, us Ferrixians won't hesitate, we won't -"

Cass snorts mid-gulp of kaf. "You can't help me, Brasso. And I don't want you to. I want you and Bee and Bix and Wilmon to stay far away from the guy you saw last night. It's not safe to know him."

Brasso notices the phrasing - not to know who he is. Just to know him.

Brasso works his jaw. He knows all about Cass's secrets - they're necessary because they keep his friends safe. But this knowledge is built on an unspoken acknowledgement that Brasso's here to keep Cass safe. Safe from himself, more often than not.

"Cass - you know..." Brasso sighs again. It's meant to be an unspoken knowledge. But something about this time, something about the man in the doorway...it really feels like this might be the last time. Best to be clear about these things, then. "You know I'd do anything for you, Cass?" there's a plaintive note in his voice that he tries to hold back, but there it hangs, needy and desperate as the way Cass holds onto him in bed.

Cassian puts the mug of kaf down next to the lamp. He turns a little and doesn't try to shrug off Brasso's arm, but he grips one broad knee and squeezes it meaningfully. He's not fully retreated into the defensive, closed persona he wears outside Brasso's quarters and there's a care in his eyes that makes Brasso's chest tighten. "I know. I know you would," Cass shakes his head, lifts a hand and cups Brasso's cheek in his palm. "That's why you've got to forget about it, Brasso. He"d take that and he'd use it. It's what he does. All your good intentions, all your kindness - they're his tools."

Brasso covers Cass's hand with his large palm. "What about your good intentions? Your kindness?"

Cass shivers, Brasso can feel him consider pulling away. But he stays, and laughs mirthlessly again, and bows his forehead to Brasso's. "Irrelevant. Long gone. It's all about the bigger picture, Brasso."

Brasso runs his thumb over Cass's hand and the arm over Cass's back tightens to draw him near. "Not long gone. Not irrelevant. Not to me. You wouldn't have come here if that was true, would you?"

Cass's body trembles again and he pinches his lips. He's starting to look haggard and troubled, like last night's spell is wearing off. "I just...I just needed to know if I could still..."

"I know," Brasso murmurs. "I understand, Cass." It's all he's allowed to offer, and he offers it in abundance, arms wide with generosity.

Cass presses their foreheads together and shifts his hand beneath Brasso's, grasping the back of his head and pulling him into a kiss - unexpected, forceful, an assault on Brasso's raw emotions.

He breaks the kiss and stands, looking down at Brasso with the nearest thing to regret in his eyes. "Just one night, remember?"

Brasso nods. He doesn't trust himself to speak, but he watches in glum, thoughtful silence as Cass dresses.

He doesn't look as unsteady on his feet today, that's certain. He's well-rested. Hopefully he's remembered he's more than the husk he needs to be for the jobs he's stuck doing.

As for Brasso - he'll go back to the routine, he supposes. Drinking tea with the other Ferrixians and reminiscing about their old lives. Negotiating to find a way out of this refugee camp and into work that's useful. They've all heard that rebellion is brewing and they're itching to play a part in it - even Bix is fired up by the idea, fuelled by Maarva's message, by her legacy. The hope that the connection she once had on Ferrix - distant, intangible - is evolving into some sort of coherent fight back against the people who since took everything from her is like a rope she uses daily to pull herself back from the horror of what happened. And they all have skills, they all spent their lives working - stagnating here in the camp forever is simply unimaginable, unconscionable.

Brasso looks up suddenly. "Should I tell the others you were here?"

Cassian straightens his belt over his narrow hips and glances sharply at him.

Brasso shrugs and spreads his hands. "I can lie to them, but not about everything, Cass..."

Cassian considers this and then steps over to Brasso, leans down and kisses him again. He lingers, and it makes Brasso want to grab him and keep him there, pull him back down to the bed and hide him from the man he works for. Instead he just grips the edges of the thin mattress and lets out a mournful sound when Cass pulls away.

Cass looks down, breathing hard and acting like it's not showing. "Tell them what you need. I won't be back, Brasso. Keep them safe."

"What about Bee -" he's on his feet. He didn't mean to be, but Cassian's already on the way to the door.

Cassian looks mortified - just for a moment, and then he shuts it down. "I'm sorry, Brasso. I don't have time for goodbyes. You explained to Bee before - you'll have to do it again."

And then he's gone, slipping through the durasteel sheets like they're a curtain he just has to brush aside. Like he's a gas, ephemeral, a spirit conjured from Brasso's dreams.

He stands there for a moment, sore and stunned, and then he takes a deep breath. He's done this before. He can do it again. There's precious little certainty in this galaxy anymore, and Cassian can close all the doors he wants - but Brasso has to believe that Cassian will always continue to find him when he needs him.

[annisthree]

Chapter II: Let go

previous chapter // masterlist // next chapter

Pairing: Cassian Andor x Original Female Character

Word Count: ~5k

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Explicit language, explicit sexual content

Chapter summary: Thanks to the successful interrogation of the Imperial prisoner, Marla's crew has been assigned a new mission. Excited, she begins her preparations - but then something happens that shifts her priorities entirely.

A/N: Cross-posted on AO3 (same username).

For the remainder of the day, Marla attempted to engage in any activity that would somehow calm her down. She started with a walk outside the base, but the sun and the humidity quickly got to her, irritating her even more. She tried taking a nap, but too many people were going in and out of the quarters, talking and making noise. She went down to the cantina to have a drink, but it was crowded, loud and annoying.

By dinnertime, Marla had already accepted defeat and decided to spend the rest of the evening in her quarters, listening to one of her bunkmates talking about another exciting mission they had just returned from.

Maker, she really needed to get off the base before the cabin fever drove her mad.

Opening the door to her quarters, she was immediately hit with a wall of sound: someone was watching a holo with the sound blasting from the loudspeakers; a couple of other people were having a heated discussion about something, and at least two others were having a comm conversation in languages she didn't even recognise.

But one sound came to the forefront as she crossed the threshold and shut the heavy durasteel doors behind her.

'Marla! I was looking for you. Guess what's happening tomorrow,' Aevie's enthusiasm was met with a blank, tired stare. 'We got an assignment! Leaving first thing in the morning.'

It felt like the universe gave her a warm, uplifting hug. Finally.

'There's a data stick on your bed. Cassian just dropped by and left us some files to go through. In fact, you just missed him.'

'Oh no,' there was a hint of mockery in her tone - but she also couldn't stop a small smile creeping onto her face. Suddenly, all of the bleakness of the day got washed away by the prospect of a mission. Even the awkward interrogation (and the even more awkward conversation that followed) became somehow more distant. 'Do we know what we're getting into this time?'

'Vaguely. Seems it's about those security protocols - we're going to... Onatsu? Ontasou? The one with the droid factory. It's gonna be us and one more team. Cassian said the rest is in the files. He also said to make sure you read them.'

'Of course he did,' Marla mumbled, climbing onto her bed and retrieving her datapad from underneath the pillow. 'You know what? I might just do that this time. I could use something to put me to sleep,' Grinning, she turned on the datapad, its blue light washing over her face. 'What time are we leaving?'

'Oh five hundred.'

'Seriously?' Marla's smile vanished instantly. 'Why do we always have to leave at the butt crack of dawn?'

Aevie shrugged, 'Cassian mentioned something about having to do recon before we go in. Personally, though, I think he just doesn't need sleep. He simply walks into his charging station once every couple of days, plugs himself in, and after a few hours, he's good to go again.'

Marla snorted loudly. Oh, yes. Droid-Cassian jokes never get old.

'Thank you. See you tomorrow, then.'

Marla threw her friend a brief smile before she shut her privacy curtain ('privacy' being a big word for what was essentially a rag on a rail). With her datapad on, the whole bunk filled with blue light that changed intensity as Marla scrolled down a wall of text.

As expected, it was wonderfully dull and tiring. After an hour or so, Marla felt her eyelids becoming heavier and heavier, and she changed the position to a more comfortable one, anticipating the blissful embrace of sleep.

But sleep never came. Even as she put away the datapad and closed her eyes, she couldn't quite get her body to drift away. Desperate, she began re-reading the files, which were now even more boring than before - but evidently not boring enough. It was as if she was too tired to fall asleep.

Another hour passed, and all of the excitement caused by the prospect of a mission was washed away by frustration.

Clearly, it would be another one of those nights.

She let out a small groan and ran a hand down her face. Fine. I give up.

 *

 The way to the arms locker was not long, but the base was a maze, so she made a couple of wrong turns before finally stopping in front of a big blast door that meant she had reached her destination. Absent-mindedly, she reached for the door handle, only to find it locked.

Right. The door terminal.

The arms locker held most of their supply of explosives, spare weaponry and anything else that one could need to make that white stormtrooper armour speckled with red. Or disintegrated. With that in mind, only the authorised personnel had access - the entry was restricted with a terminal that required you to scan your palm and enter a code.

There was a small beep as she finished tapping the numbers on the screen, and the door opened. Soon enough, the motion sensors detected her presence, and the entire room lit up, revealing rows of cabinets and shelves filled with their entire supply of weapons.

The door closed behind her as she walked in and began scanning her surroundings in search of a familiar container.

Back in her quarters, as soon as she had accepted that sleep wasn't coming, Marla had decided to start preparing for the mission. She had quietly packed her bag - easy enough, since it was still mostly unpacked after Scen - and then she'd figured she would get some thermal detonators from the arms locker. The mission debrief said it was supposed to be a stealth mission, but she knew she'd feel safer knowing she had a good supply of explosives on her.

And so she ended up in a room filled with weapons, browsing through different containers until she finally found the one that held thermal detonators and put a couple of them in her bag.

She was just about to turn and head for the exit when she heard the door opening. She jumped up and almost ducked behind the cover of a shelving unit before her brain registered that she was not stealing, she was on the base, and she had every right to be here. Old habits die hard.

'You really should get some sleep before tomorrow.'

'You really should mind your own business,' she snarked, at which Cassian just raised one of his eyebrows. Right. Too much. She really should get some sleep before she manages to offend every one of her friends. 'What are you doing here?'

'I'd just finished reading the mission debrief and figured I'd drop by and pick up some--'

'--thermal detonators?' she finished for him, picking up the filled bag from the floor.

A ghost of a smile ran through Cassian's features, 'Thermal detonators. Right. Should have known you would never leave the base without enough explosives to blow up the entire Empire.'

She gave him a small grin, trying simultaneously to fight the inexplicable feeling of awkwardness that slowly began creeping into her mind.

'We could probably also stock up on blaster slugs; I remember Sal complaining he almost used up the entire supply. Seen any?' Marla shook her head, using his suggestion as an opportunity to break eye contact and scan the shelves. 'Right. Well, should be here, let's see...'

With that, Cassian began rummaging through the containers lined up on the shelves behind her, and she followed suit - even though she knew perfectly well they wouldn't find what they were looking for in this section, she just went through all the crates. But it gave her an excuse to turn away from him and pretend to be busy.

All the while, her brain - already clouded by the lack of sleep - began twisting in all different directions, leaving her painfully dumbed down and increasingly uneasy. She was just beginning to start coming up with an excuse to leave when she heard his voice from behind her back.

'What's wrong? Are you nervous?'

She wanted to cry out in despair. Of course Cassian would notice the slightest reaction of her body. He was worse than a fucking medical droid.

Putting all her energy into returning her breath to a normal frequency, she mumbled, 'Nah. I'm not.'

As soon as the words left her mouth, she realised how unconvincing they were. She should have said she was stressed with the mission, or cold, anything. Stupid brain.

The stream of self-deprecating epithets was interrupted by the quiet sound of shuffling on the other end of the section. She froze, suddenly aware of Cassian's body right behind her back. Shit. What was he trying--

'How about now?' he asked, his voice so low it was almost a whisper. He was now close enough for Marla to feel his breath on her neck, and for a brief moment, she felt the way she did when they had injected her with the sleeping tonics back in the med bay: dizzy, surprised and hazy. It felt like someone else was slowly taking over the steering wheel that controlled her movements. It felt like the time slowed down, but it also felt like everything was happening at the same time, so fast her brain could no longer keep up.

It felt like she'd found something she'd lost a long time ago; it felt like excitement and relief and need. Everything at once.

Guided by her instincts, she turned around to face him, and stars, he was so close. And he had that look in his eyes again - the one that was a mixture of provocation and lust.

How do you say no to that?

It was difficult to tell who initiated the kiss - they clashed somewhere in the middle, hastily, hungrily, breathlessly. Marla ran her fingers through Cassian's hair, desperate to keep him as close as possible for as long as possible. In response, he pushed his body into hers, forcing her to take a step back and clash with the shelving unit, filling the room with a metallic clank.

His hands were now slowly travelling down her waist, and she didn't know how long she could last until her legs gave in under her, and she collapsed from all that excitement. She grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him closer, even though they were already pushed into one another, almost melting into one single body.

She was just about to start unbuttoning his shirt when she felt her elbow collide with something hard and heard a click followed by a loud beep. Wait-

'Oh shit. Oh shitshitshit-'

Panicked, she turned around, just in time to see a red blinking light on one of the shelves she had just been leaning on. With shaky hands and a heart in her throat, Marla picked up the thermal detonator and pushed the button to disarm it. The beeping stopped.

Behind her, she heard a quiet chuckle, 'Yeah. Probably not the best place to do this. Let's go,' Cassian rasped. His voice was soft and calm, but she could hear he was just as out of breath as she was.

'Was that an order, Captain?' She was desperately trying to retain her nonchalant and sassy facade, but her brain, her lungs, her stomach - everything inside her was on fire.

And the playful spark that appeared in Cassian's eye just then didn't exactly help. 'No. I know you're not very good with these.'

Marla barked out a short, nervous laugh, feeling a blush starting at the base of her throat, ready to expand to her face.

She should probably take this moment to rethink what she was doing, to play it off as a joke and promptly back out.

But the decision has already been made, hasn't it? Her body had chosen the moment she felt his breath on her neck, the moment she saw the depth of longing in his eyes, the moment her own need took over the steering wheel

Slowly, Marla nodded and picked up her bag from the floor, noting once again the shakiness of her hands.

'Right, let's go,' she breathed out as she felt a gentle push of his hand on the small of her back, guiding her towards the door.

 *

 They walked in silence, keeping a respectful distance that felt comical considering how glued together they had been mere moments ago. Marla walked half a step in front of Cassian in an attempt to avoid the awkward eye contact, so she didn't see his face - but she was sure he kept his expression blank and inconspicuous, just as she was sure she had 'we're about to have sex' written all over her forehead.

Marla tried very hard to recall if she had ever felt more awkward. She didn't think she had.

And there was the tension, too. Between his stiff gait and her shaky breath, the air of anticipation was almost palpable. It felt intoxicating; it felt like a mixture of anxiety and fascination and that restlessness she suddenly realised she'd been feeling constantly for the past couple of weeks. It felt like a grenade about to go off, like she was waiting with her ears covered to be hit by a shockwave, counting the last quiet seconds before everything got consumed by an explosion.

The officers' quarters weren't far, but it truly felt like an eternity. Finally, though, they stopped in front of a door, and Cassian punched in the code.

She hadn't had a chance to see his room since they moved everyone around, but it looked exactly the same way all of his previous rooms did. Tidy. Impersonal. Maybe a bit cold.

But what mattered right now was the fact that it was a single room. The bed was small and probably very uncomfortable, but as the door closed behind them and Cassian finally returned his attention to her, Marla decided that she didn't give a damn.

'I don't think I've ever heard you not speak for that long,' Cassian murmured, with just the tiniest pinch of playfulness to his voice. 'If I knew this is what it takes to shut you up, I would have done it a long time ago.'

Marla let out a chuckle, but it was quickly cut short by him pushing her against the wall. She felt the chill of the stone through her shirt, contrasting with the warmth of her body and sending a shiver down her spine.

She didn't realise how much she needed this. Part of her thought that the night on Scen had scratched that itch - but now, with Cassian's lips pressing against hers, with his fingers sneaking underneath her shirt and brushing over her naked skin - she now realised just how much she had been lying to herself. Suddenly, all of it came back to the surface - the lightheadedness she had attributed to insomnia, the frustration and impatience she was sure was caused by being grounded for too long. All that and the yearning, the hunger, the unbearable loneliness and the need to feel that same rush once more.

Her jolt back to reality came when she felt a slight tug on her tank top, and shortly after - Cassian's warm hands travelling up her stomach, lifting the top inch by inch, slowly, deliberately, with a gentleness that contrasted so starkly with the intensity of their kiss.

After what seemed like a torturous eternity, the hem of her top reached just below her breasts, and soon she was able to catch a deep, greedy breath as he removed it. As soon as the garment got discarded, he cupped her jaw with his hands with the intention of resuming the kiss - but before he did, there was a split second where she could take a good look at him, and the smile she saw made her almost dizzy.

In another (kinder) universe, she would see that smile much more often. But it didn't matter at that moment - stuck between the cold wall and the warmth of his body, she had found her eternity, and it felt like his smile would be the only thing she would ever see.

She let out a quiet, uncontrollable sigh at the contact with his bare skin, pushing her chest into his as if trying to usurp as much of him as possible.

His hands felt like they were made to draw these lazy abstract paintings on her arms, belly, her chest. Yes, this was her forever. Whatever happened next, part of her would always remain stuck in this moment with him, feeling like she was drowning in pleasure, gasping for air, barely able to keep her eyes open. There would be other timelines: one where they part in the morning and fly to Ontasou; another one where something suddenly happens, the base gets attacked, and she never gets to kiss every square centimetre of his body the way she wanted to; maybe there's a version of history where they had never met, and she's still fighting with Saw.

But this was the only timeline that mattered. The one where his lips began their slow, torturous journey from her neck to her breasts, the one where she slid her hands under his shirt to track the familiar outlines of the scars on his back, the one where she was losing patience and wanted more, more, everything.

Marla had to bite back the moan that almost escaped her throat as his lips finally reached their destination, catching one of her nipples and latching onto it.

If there still had been any sanity left in her at that point, it was all gone now. She tipped back her head and arched her back to push into him even more, her fingers tangling his hair in a desperate attempt to keep him exactly where he was.

But eventually, he straightened up, immediately evoking a frustrated sight from deep within her chest - but that was the only sound she was able to make before his lips claimed hers again, and it was passionate, it was dreamlike, but it also wasn't enough, and so she slid her hands down his chest and began blindly fighting with the tremble of her fingers as she tried to unbuckle his belt.

She was almost done and ready to rid him of the remainder of his clothes when they heard a steady, beeping noise - quiet at first, but getting louder and louder. She knew that sound.

'No, come on, you can't just--'

But he could, and he did. He gave her an apologetic look as he slowly pulled away, painfully increasing the distance between their bodies. She wanted to scream with frustration.

Meanwhile, he rummaged through the pile of their discarded clothes, searching for the source of the beeping.

'Captain Andor?'

The voice in the commlink was distorted but still recognisable. Cassian automatically straightened a little, which looked funny considering his messy hair and missing shirt.

'Sir.'

Marla couldn't believe their long-awaited makeout session was being interrupted by Draven. Of all people, the one person who was even more droid-like than Cassian.

'There's been a change of plans. The other team was just sent on an urgent extraction mission, so it's just going to be your crew tomorrow. You're gonna have to be extra careful.'

An idea sprouted in Marla's head, and she almost giggled with mischievous excitement.

'Understood, sir.'

Marla slowly moved towards Cassian, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. As she approached, he gave her a questioning gaze and raised an eyebrow, unsure of her intent.

'We had also managed to gather some intel on the factory itself. I have sent you the updated files.'

Cassian's eyes shot wide open as Marla unbuttoned his trousers and slid one hand under them.

'I-- Thank you, sir.'

Marla inspected his face, looking for a signal that would help her decide her next move. His eyes were now tightly shut, and he was visibly struggling to keep his breathing steady - but there was also that slight grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

That was all the encouragement she needed.

'Any questions?'

Marla suppressed a playful giggle and continued to slide her hand further and further down, until she reached her destination and began slowly stroking his length.

With his eyes still closed shut, Cassian tipped his head back and used his free hand to grab the nearby chair, with an urgency that only confirmed what Marla already knew.

'No, sir. All is-- clear,' the last word came after a slight pause. He was barely holding it together - which was a fascinating sight, especially considering how good he usually was at conceiving his emotions.

'Good. Good luck tomorrow. Make sure to report as soon as you are within a safe range.'

The connection broke with a beep, and Cassian let out a long, loud - and slightly shaky - breath. They stood like that for a moment before he dropped his head back down and opened his eyes, drilling her with his stare.

'You're unbelievable,' he muttered in a breathy tone, with the tiniest spark of playfulness appearing in his eyes. Marla huffed out an involuntary chuckle before she was silenced again by his kiss, and soon enough, they began their slow and blind journey towards his bed.

 *

 Marla awoke to the morning light filtering through the window. The sun slowly rose, casting an orange hue across the room and dancing across her eyelids, coaxing her out of slumber. With a lazy stretch and a deep sigh, she gradually opened her eyes, taking in the sequence of images: the stone ceiling, familiar and yet oddly distant; the walls that were the same dull grey colour she knew so well, but these were somehow emptier, as if the room was more spacious.

And then, her gaze landed on the other side of the bed, and it felt like her heart both sped up and froze at the same time.

He was still asleep, thank the maker. That gave her a moment to piece together the events of the previous night - meeting him in the storage room, the kiss, the awkward walk to his quarters, the other kiss, Draven calling on his comlink and then... oh.

She briefly considered smashing her head on the stone wall behind the bed. Repeatedly.

That was-- suboptimal. It was also everything she had wanted and needed, but at the same time, it would make things that much more awkward - as if they weren't already acting like idiots every time they got within a two-metre range of one another.

Great. Fucking perfect.

As she continued the mental equivalent of self-flagellation, her eyes were drawn to the other side of the bed again, and the sight immediately made her thoughts go blank.

The gentle rise and fall of his chest, the soft exhale of breath and the peaceful expression on his face. All of it was just so... nice. Comforting. Endearing.

No. No, no, no. Don't go there.

Slowly, she lifted a corner of her blanket, praying not to wake Cassian up with any sudden movements. The cold morning air immediately attacked her naked skin, making it even more difficult to force herself out of bed.

But she had to. Somehow, she didn't think a morning cuddle and an honest heart-to-heart conversation would make things less awkward.

Although she wouldn't mind him making her breakfast, just like they do in those cheesy old holomovies. He told her once he used to like cooking, but somehow she never managed to force him to demonstrate his skill in this area - and today, of all days, she would give a lot to experience that. She hadn't had much of an appetite the day before, but a night spent competing in finding creative ways to attain pleasure seemed to have rekindled her hunger.

After a while, she somehow made it out of bed without waking Cassian up. Good start.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted her trousers crumpled carelessly on the floor. A couple of steps further was her top and lingerie. She almost tripped on one of her shoes, cursing under her breath as she looked back at Cassian - but it seemed he was still deep asleep. It took a moment for her to peel her eyes off the sight of his blissfully untroubled expression - but she finally found the resolve to get dressed, cruising around the room to pick up the discarded pieces of clothing.

Sure, she felt guilty, a bit scared and confused - but there wasn't a single regret in her mind. How could she have regrets when it had felt so good, so natural, so right...?

 *

 When she reached the hangar bay, most of the crew was already there, sitting in various positions on the ground next to the Blackbird's open ramp. They were one of the few people around - apart from a couple of overzealous mechanics, the base seemed still asleep, with the cranes standing still and ships bathing in the warm morning light, waiting for their next adventures.

'Marla! Where the hell were you? You didn't come back to the quarters last night...' Aevie's melodic voice was the first sound Marla heard once she approached the group. Other than, of course, loud chewing.

'I wasn't worried,' Zafe protested with his mouth full of food. 'I figured you deserted and fleed the base to join the Imperial forces. Or fell asleep under the table in the Drunken Bantha. Or that loud mouth of yours finally landed you in the brig.'

'You think too much,' Marla snickered, bending over to grab a packet of dried jogan fruit off the floor. Oh yes, food.

'Well, wherever you were, you should be there more often. I haven't gotten that much uninterrupted sleep since we became bunkmates.'

'Shut up,' she mumbled, punctuating the sentence by throwing an empty can of hubba juice at him. In response, Zafe made a theatrically hurt face and attempted throwing the can back at her - unsuccessfully.

'Anyone seen Cassian? He's usually the first one to show up.'

Marla almost choked on a piece of jogan. With all her remaining energy, she tried to shrug nonchalantly, hoping that no one would notice the redness of her ears that betrayed her embarrassment.

'Maybe his charging station broke,' someone offered.

'Or maybe he was picking up supplies so that he doesn't have to listen to you whine about being hungry thirty minutes into the flight,' a familiar voice joined the conversation.

They all turned around to see Cassian leaning on one of the crates with a duffel bag in his hand. Somehow, no one noticed him approach.

'Stars. That's creepy, you know? Sneaking up on people like that. Bloody spies.'

Determined not to make eye contact, Marla locked her gaze on the packet of jogan fruit she held in her hand.

Damn it. She really needed to ask Cassian how he always managed to keep his face straight like this.

'Everyone ready?'

Yes. Marla was so ready. Anything to get busy and avoid further awkwardness.

Marla was just about to turn around when she caught a glimpse of Zafe's expression: he was clearly staring at her, eyes surveying her face as if looking for an answer to something.

Maker, no.

But the universe clearly didn't care about her silent cry because soon enough, the expression on Zafe's face changed from inquisitiveness to understanding, with his eyes widening as he continued staring right at Marla.

Great.

Feeling a flush of shame expanding from her ears to the rest of her face, Marla gave him a pleading headshake, trying to make it subtle so as not to draw the attention of the others. It was bad enough he knew. She didn't need the rest of the crew to start discussing her sex life.

The battle of stares between her and Zafe continued for a couple of more (painfully long) moments before he finally shook his head and shot her a meaningful look. It was clear he wasn't done with the topic, just postponing it to a more convenient moment.

Satisfied (although still a bit shaken), Marla turned around and entered the ship, heading towards the cockpit.

Stars, it was good to be here again. Yes, things were bound to be awkward for the next couple of days. Yes, she should probably avoid being alone with Cassian for now - or, like, forever. But at least she was back in the game.

The leathery padding of the pilot seat felt soft and unusually inviting. Smiling, she sank into the chair, propping her feet on the dashboard and turning her face towards the warmth of the sun that was pouring through the hangar door and through the ship's viewport. It was bright, and for a brief moment, her heart rate jumped up before she realised it was not that recurring nightmare again - she was safe, satisfied, and well-rested.

A sudden wave of realisation hit her - she really was well-rested. And that was because, for the first time in weeks, she slept through the entire night without waking up screaming. Did that mean she was finally rid of that torture or was it only that one night? And if the latter was true - was it because she was so damn tired, or was it because...?

No, she wasn't gonna start thinking about last night again. She couldn't let that ruin the thrill of starting a mission, and even more so - she couldn't let that ruin her focus.

They would have to find a way to pretend none of it ever happened. At least until the mission is over.

[gpoust37]

Rogue One: A Star Wars Story… 6 years later. Well, like, 3 years since I watched it leading up to TROS. But you get it.

In the past 6 years, my opinion on the movie has mostly stayed the same. I like it overall, love the third act, and get triggered when people say it’s the best Disney or overall Star Wars. That remains true today, but I think I am a little more positive on it and can safely say I put it as my 3rd favorite of the Disney era behind TLJ and TFA. For a bit there, I considered Solo being better. but having seen that a couple months ago and seeing Rogue today, Rogue One is definitely better. Still enjoy Solo a good bit though.

Back to Rogue One, overall, it’s good. But that first hour has just never sat the best with me. I never found Jyn to be that intriguing at first. It starts to pick up for me when she is seeing her father’s message. The stuff leading up to that is a bit lacking for me. They present her as this apathetic loner who is just out for herself. But on Jedha, she saves that little girl during the fight, risking her life in the process. Which, I guess could just show that the whole loner thing was just a mask. But I always felt that such an action should have taken place after she heard her father’s message. That should be the catalyst (hahaha get it? Like the name of the prequel book. I’m so clever, clearly) that wakes her up from her apathy and desire to do what’s right at all costs. Based on trailer footage, they seemed to have cut some moment of her being a bit more sassy and potentially cynical. I’m basing this off the “I rebel” line that’s not in the film. Although there is no indication her saving the girl was added later in the process, regardless I feel it makes her arc less interesting if she was that heroic already. Feels like they wanted to make sure she was likable enough rather than give us the story that seems to be there. Her actions after the message all flow better to me. I just ignore her saving a child and her story feels more interesting to me. Not a massive problem but it’s always stuck out as something that lessens the movie for me. I do think we needed a scene of young Jyn and Galen bonding. Something that shows their bond beyond having a nickname. Something that would make sense with Jyn feeling abandoned but still ultimately missing him. Even just a quick scene of him teaching her something on the farm that can show their dynamic. A hug goodbye and a nickname just doesn’t cut it for me. Something to add depth to her seeing him for the first time after all those years.

Cassian falls sort of flat to me. While they do show he will murder even allies, it’s clear he does so because he believes it is the best thing for the rebellion. He does what he feels he must. I never took it as he was some bad dude or anything. Desperate times and all that. So, when he goes with Jyn to Scariff, it just feels like he is still doing what he thinks is right and best for the rebellion. He is willing to do whatever it takes. There is talk of him doing these things due to orders… but he kills the guys at the start by his own choice. He kills one of Saw’s rebels to cause chaos to save Jyn. He disobeys his order to kill Galen. He disobeys the council and goes to Scariff. Seems like he is his own person after all. I do like the scene after Eadu where he says he’s been in the fight since he was 6. It showed there was a story there, we just don’t really get it in the movie at all. I think we needed a bit more for him here but at least the show will give us far more. The sneak peek for Andor was good. I am now hyped to see the show. It said there is a 3 episode premiere on 9/21. Not sure if the three episode thing was announced already. Maybe it was? Anyway, while I like a rebel who will do anything to complete the mission, I wanted something more there and it just wasn’t there.

So with the two leads not doing much for me, particularly in the first hour, that’s a big downer for me, not ruining the movie or anything though. Just lowers the movie for me.

Saw’s portrayal is… odd, if you’ve seen his Clone Wars and Rebels stuff. Though, tbf, the Rebels stuff comes after Rogue One. While the monster clearly broke his mind, the Saw we know from before this would never just give up and wait to die. He would survive and keep fighting. In another version of the film, he would have gone with them and been a role model for Cassian as someone who does anything to complete the mission. But then he goes too far and shows Cassian there has to be a line that they won’t cross. Just feels like a missed opportunity there. Instead he dies because they didn’t know what to do with him? He also could have been another witness to the message and back up Jyn. But nah, just die already.

There are some other things that irk me and kind of take me out of the movie. The blue milk in that opening scene. The movie is filled with Star Wars things we know, I’m not against blue milk. But it’s the fact that it is front and center that just strikes me as odd. The placement just makes me give it a side eye. Just feels silly. Then there is the moment with Ponda Baba and Dr. Evazan. It’s completely pointless. It only serves to have the audience go, “I know who they are!” I hate it. There are so many other things in the movie that make sense to be there based on context. X-wings? Of course. At-St’s? Makes sense. Tarkin? That fits with what we know. Vader? Of course he’d be involved in this stuff. And so on. There is no need to force references in when there are so many that just naturally comes with the time it takes place and the major players involved. The ones that feel forced stick out like a sore thumb.

Then there are just really odd decisions on how things are presented or added on. Like, when Bail steps up during the first meeting at the rebel base and they play the force theme and he says nothing and does nothing of note. I think he has like a line of dialog there? It’s so weird to give him that emphasis for nothing. The 3PO and R2 scene. I hate it. I know it’s only like 10 seconds, but again it just sticks out to me. Contextually they would be there as the ship they are on is present as we see when it break away from Raddus’s ship. But they serve no purpose. Just another “I know them” moment. I don’t like it.

I’m sorry, but Baze is completely useless and should have been cut to give a little more time to the other characters. He’s just along for the ride. His death is the most pointless. His only purpose at the end is to mourn Chirrut. He finds his faith again only to be killed in his next scene. I think it would have made way more sense for him to be the lone survivor. Living on to continue the fight with his renewed faith. But they committed to killing them all no matter what, I guess. Bodhi gets the transmission to Raddus. K2 buys Jyn and Cassian time. Chirrut flips the master switch allowing Bodhi to make that transmission. Jyn and Cassian do what it takes to transmit the plans, knowing they are trapped there to ultimately die. Baze was there because???? Feels like the easiest cut in the world.

Those are probably always going to be my biggest issues with the film. I think everything else works for me. The performances are good despite the material at times. The visuals are fantastic! I probably under appreciate the music. I found the Tarkin CGI convincing. The Leia face felt off to me, although, I swear what I saw today looked like an updated pass at the CGI of her face. I wouldn’t be surprised if this is the case but I haven’t seen anyone else Point it out, so maybe I’m just crazy. It’s so brief it doesn’t ruin anything even if I find it off. I enjoyed Vader here, even the corny choking on your aspirations bit. Raddus is awesome and I loved the hammerhead maneuver. Chirrut and Bodhi work for me. Krennic is decent. The third act is near perfect. Best space battle in all of Star Wars. It leans hard into the wars of Star Wars and works beautifully.

All this to say, I’ll always consider this a good Star Wars movie. But best of Disney or overall? Eh. You’re getting an upset stare from me for that kind of comment. It’s a solid 6th place after episodes 4-8.

I’ve prattled on enough. Sorry for the essay.

TL/DR: This movie is good with some problems but still good. Excited for Andor now.

Okay, one final thought: I think they should have made Jyn and Cassian become a romantic dynamic. People going through something so important together and overcoming obstacles and saving each other’s lives and such would likely draw you to the other person. It is cliche to hook up your two main leads, in this case, I think it would have made sense and stayed true to the original trilogy. It would have been reminiscent of the Luke/Leia and Leia/Han dynamics. Maybe they shied away from it because they knew Rey/Kylo was happening and they didn’t want to have yet another couple dynamic as leads? Feels a lot better than Reylo’s kiss and ending that just kind of dives off a cliff into silly. I dunno. I just think romance and love is apart of Star Wars and it would have made sense here a lot more than in the sequel trilogy and added a little more depth to their characters.

[mari-beau]

PARTNERS - A Rogue One Fanfiction

Written for Cassian Appreciation Week 2021 Day 4: Alliance Intelligence

(I know I missed Cassian Appreciation Week entirely with this one, but it got a little more out of hand than the quick scene tags and etc. Actually, tumblr posting etiquette question: At what point is a fanfic considered too long to post directly and should be hosted elsewhere and linked to? Or is inserting a ‘keep reading’ break enough?)

Title: Partners

Characters: Cassian Andor POV; Jyn Erso, Draven

Pairing: Cassian/Jyn

Words: 2633

Setting: Post-Rogue One, Canon-divergent (in that Cassian & Jyn live)

Summary: Cassian receives his first assignment for Alliance Intelligence after recovering from his Scarif injuries, but something is amiss with Jyn Erso. And something is gnawing at him as well...

Spoilers: Rogue One

Warnings: Our heroes have a little bit of PTSD/Separation Anxiety; Also it’s in a layered/nonlinear narrative format, which hopefully is clear/works.

“Where?” she asked. Was there a desperate edge to Jyn’s voice? Or did he just want there to be?

“You know I can’t tell you where.”

Cassian thought she would at least roll her eyes, if not spout sardonic criticism of Alliance Intelligence not even trusting their own people, not trusting those rebels who’d sacrificed everything for the Cause. But she surprisingly remained silent, pursing her lips and giving a little shake of her head.

“Are you allowed to tell me how long you’ll-” She swallowed, uncharacteristically vulnerable. “You’ll be gone?”

“I’m not sure.” Cassian wanted to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder, but he’d never seen her look so fragile, and he was afraid a single touch might shatter her.

“Okay.” Her response was clipped, even for her, and she just nodded her head, refusing to meet his eyes.

“I’ll be back, Jyn,” he said. And maybe he’d never actually said it outright, but maybe she needed to hear it. “I’ll never leave you behind.”

Again, she only nodded her head, repeating “Okay.”

He gave into the urge, placed a hand on her biceps and stroked her arm through the layers of her thick thermal jumpsuit.

“Are you-” he tried to ask her whether she was feeling okay, but she shrugged his hand off and bolted, leaving him to watch her fleeing back as she disappeared down an icy corridor, blinking in surprise.

…

Earlier…

“Medical informs me you’re cleared for active duty, Captain Andor.” Draven managed to make it both a statement and a question. Of course he was the head of Intelligence, a spy to his very core, working in vagaries. Except when he issued orders. Those were always clear.

“Yes, sir.” Cassian tried to stand at full attention, but the stance honestly put a little too much pressure on his bad leg. If it was just the artificial hip, he’d probably be sprier than he’d been before. But the deep tissue damage was going to take awhile, if he ever did regain the full musculature in his leg, the tendons and ligaments would never be the same. The fractures in his vertebrae and ribs had thankfully knitted back up and neither bothered him too badly. Even with the unrelenting cold of Hoth.

“I have your next assignment.”

Cassian nodded, accepting the datapad with mission specifics. He gave it a cursory glance.

Deep cover.

“Is this a solo mission?” he asked, but pretended to continue to study the information rather than risk revealing his insecurities to his commanding officer. “Or am I going to need a team?”

Maybe just a partner?

“It has to be you,” Draven said. “And only you. They’re your connections. Well, one of your alias’ connections.”

The older man hesitated, not dismissing Cassian, not continuing with the briefing, just standing, waiting. Cassian mustered the best impassive face he could before meeting his commanding officer’s gaze.

“You’re still one of the best agents we have, Andor.”

Cassian nodded his head in silent acceptance of the reassurance.

“When do you need me to leave?” he asked.

“Whenever you’re comfortable enough with the mission brief. But the sooner, the better.” Draven was still studying him intently, with more scrutiny than Cassian had even faced as an undercover spy. “You know where to find me if you have any follow up questions.”

“Yes, sir,” Cassian said, recognizing his dismissal.

Something twisted deep in his chest as he walked away.

He needed to find Jyn and tell her he’d be leaving.

…

That Day on the Beach of Scarif…

“Look.”

It sounded like Jyn’s voice. Was there an afterlife, then? And could Cassian have somehow been lucky enough to be with her there?

No. No, that couldn’t be the case. There was too much pain. If he no longer had a body, then why did it hurt in the way physical flesh only could?

“Cassian!” Jyn’s voice was more urgent and she was squirming in his arms, her hands tugging on the sleeves of his shirt. “What is that?”

He forced his eyes open. It was bright. So bright. Why was she confused? It was Death.

No. No, it wasn’t?

He squinted, blinking his eyes as he looked off toward the ocean, well, where the ocean had been, where the wall of destruction had… stopped?

Jyn looked at him in wide-eyed amazement. “Is that a-”

“Shield,” Cassian gasped, in utter shock himself. “The Empire must have installed an emergency shield to protect the facility.”

“How long?” Jyn was breathing hard, already scrambling to her feet.

“Against that blastwave? Not long,” Cassian said. “Maybe it has dispersed some of the explosive force already but…”

“Come on.” Jyn was standing, leaning down to tug at his arms. He felt like he was ten times the weight he’d ever been on any planet.

“There’s not a lot of time,” he said, hoping she’d understand.

“Which is why you need to move your ass.” Jyn squatted in front of him instead, shoving her arms under his armpits and basically hugging him, she tried hauling him to his feet, but he was dead weight. He hissed with overwhelming pain that was practically blinding, his legs refusing to function. They collapsed back to the sand in a heap.

Jyn got back up, wincing and holding her injured shoulder before she renewed her attempts to get Cassian onto his feet.

It was a herculean effort for his weary body, but he managed to grab her arm.

“Listen to me, Jyn.” She locked eyes with him, and the desperation and pain he found there stabbed him in the chest, hurting worse than his aching ribs. “You have to go. You have to leave me behind. There’s got to be others still alive out there. Find them, get off Scarif. Leave me here. It’s okay. I want you to leave me. Do you understand?”

“No,” she said. There was a ferocious passion in the depths of her eyes, the green gone all steel grey. Any argument he could possibly make, any plea for her to save herself would not be tolerated.

“You listen to me, Cassian Andor.” Her hands captured his face. Her fierceness took away what little breath he had. “We live together. Or we die together.”

This time when she grabbed him, somehow her small body managed to haul him up, maybe she’d somehow given him some of her strength, some of her unrelenting determination, because his legs held... mostly.

…

Present

Cassian found Jyn hiding in a storage room, sitting on a crate with her hands on her knees, doubled over, breathing in big, sobbing gulps of air. He could only stand there and stare in complete shock. Not even on the beach that day had he ever seen Jyn Erso so… such an emotional mess. Angry. Passionate. Vulnerable. Yes. All those things he had seen in her eyes. But this sort of tangible, physical reaction? It was jarring to witness.

And he hesitated. Never hesitate. It could cost lives, the lives of others, your own.

Rushing to her side, he dropped to his knees beside her, the hard ice floor’s impact mitigated by his thick thermal pants.

“Jyn, what is it? What’s wrong? Should I find a medic?”

He placed a hand on her leg, tried to get her to look at him, but she turned away, her breathing still disturbingly uneven, like she wasn’t getting enough oxygen.

“N-no,” she choked out. “Just- Just give me a m-minute.”

“Okay,” he said. “But I’m right here. If you need anything, I’m here.”

A sob escaped her, and then she gasped, continuing to struggle to breath, hyperventilating. Cassian just remained there, kneeling beside her, a previously unfamiliar agony tearing at him, watching Jyn suffer whatever it was she was enduring and unable to help her. But he’d stay there, by her side, forever, if she needed him to.

Her breathing gradually grew placid until she was taking deep, regulated draughts of air. And then those determined breaths evened out as well until she was finally breathing normally. And still he waited.

Jyn swore, wiping at her face before she turned to him, and oh, force, her cheeks were raw-looking with tear tracks staining her skin. There were dark circles under her eyes. She looked exhausted. As if she’d been awake, hunted, for a week. How did that happen in just half an hour or so?

“Can you tell me what’s going on?” Cassian asked. He wanted to know, needed to know, so, “Maybe I can help.”

She nodded but her eyes were bright, welling up with tears. This was Jyn Erso. It took a lot to make the woman cry.

“What is responsible for this? Did someone hurt you?” Cassian could hear his own accent thickening but didn’t care, becoming too agitated to focus on proper Basic pronunciations.

Jyn shook her head but said, “No. Yes… I… fuck. This is so embarrassing.”

“What is it, querida?” He took her hand and when she didn’t pull away, squeezed it, caressed her bare palm with his thumb, noting that her skin was getting cold and he should get her back closer to the core of the base where the temperature was more bearable. “You can tell me anything. You know that, right?”

She nodded. And again, Cassian was struck by how vulnerable the woman was. She always had a deeply hurt portion of her soul, but she seemed incapable of letting it show, even to him. It wasn’t deluding himself, or an over-exaggeration. Cassian knew that her friendship with him was different than any other she’d had in her life. It was the same for him. They finally had someone they could trust wholeheartedly.

But he still held his breath, waiting for her to bestow that trust once again.

She looked down at her hands in his, then to his face, her weary eyes holding his gaze, searching for something.

“You haven’t realized it, yet, have you?” she asked. Cassian’s heart beat faster. Realized what? “Until your Intelligence briefing this morning, we hadn’t been more than an arm’s length apart since Scarif. And force, I’m having a fucking panic attack just at the thought of being separated from you. How ridiculous is that?”

Cassian’s mouth had gone dry. He swallowed and wet his lips before he could even contemplate speaking.

“It’s not ridiculous, Jyn.” Maybe he hadn’t realized why, but that uneasy feeling had been twisting his insides since he’d first left for his briefing. And now, now he couldn’t deny its cause.

Because Jyn was right. She’d basically dragged him bodily out of that massacre, off that cursed planet, held him as he drifted in and out of consciousness until he’d blacked out entirely, to wake up in the infirmary on Yavin 4 with Jyn sitting at his bedside, arms folded on the edge of his cot, supporting her head as she slept. And from there, she had been with him his entire recovery. She refused to leave the room when medical staff or droids checked on him, only turning her back to give him privacy. He hadn’t complained. He hadn’t objected. Even when she set up a bedroll in the corner of his quarters when he’d been released from the infirmary. Even when she wordlessly climbed into his bed to soothe his fitful, painful sleep, even when she helped him dress. And shower. And limp down the corridors to exercise his injured leg. And after he was basically as recovered as he was going to get, she stayed. Always by his side.

The memory that would always forever be seared into his existence slapped him in the face.

“We live together. Or we die together,” he whispered.

Jyn’s pupils dilated, her eyes fixed unwaveringly on his.

“I meant it,” she said quietly. “But I didn’t think…”

Her hand reflexively clutched at the front of her thermal jumpsuit, seeking the only possession she cared about, the only thing she had left of her mother, her father, the only thing she had that was her own, special. But hadn’t she realized?

She had him.

Cassian took a risk, slid his fingertips over her cheek, which was soft and smooth and warm against his doubtless chilled fingers. But she didn’t flinch from his cool touch. Rather, she leaned into his palm as he cupped her face.

“I know,” he said. And he did know, could see the knowledge of it in her eyes, as well. He didn’t much believe in the Force, and despite the kyber crystal perpetually around Jyn’s neck, she had had a hard life, was a survivor, with a practicality that ran so deep it had taken him, a heartless assassin to make her believe in hope again.

Sometimes, though… Okay, often, he felt like that blastwave had swept them away, disintegrated them on the submolecular level. And then somehow they’d reformed. But their atoms had been mixed up, and he was as much composed of her stardust as his own, and she of his.

It was fanciful. And completely unlike Cassian. The Before Cassian. But now, it was absolutely the way he felt. It was foolish to deny it. And from the way Jyn was looking at him...

He leaned in, his nose brushing hers, his lips feathering over hers as he hesitated, waited for any signal from her, acceptance, invitation, or rejection.

It was an exquisite, agonizing eternity.

But then Jyn sucked in a sharp breath, one of her small yet strong hands grabbing the front of his coat, the other the nape of his neck, fingers curling in his hair. She pulled him into her, her mouth crashing against, hard and hot, and needy. Aggressive and tender at the same time. An inextricable mess. It was how they were. It was who they were.

It was perfect.

…

A little bit later...

“You have concerns regarding the mission, Captain Andor?”

Cassian had managed to catch General Draven in the rare moment where the man was actually in his office, sitting at his desk, reviewing… who knew what… intelligence, battle plans… food reserves…

“I do, sir.”

Draven looked up. Cassian had never questioned an assignment before. He’d always been such a good little soldier-spy. Even though it had been costing him his very soul.

Still, even with the feeling of Jyn’s kisses freshly on his lips, the presence of her burned into his entire being, questioning orders made him nervous. Almost as nervous as allowing himself to have wants, a sense of self beyond what the Alliance had given him.

“Well, what is it, captain?”

“I need a partner.”

Draven frowned in thought. “If I recall… the assignment is best suited for a single operative.”

Cassian swallowed but looked his commanding officer straight in the eye. “Then I won’t be taking this assignment. Or any others for Alliance Intelligence. Not unless I can work with a partner.”

Draven stood, did a quick pace behind his desk before he fixed Cassian with a hard stare. “You would desert the Alliance over Jyn Erso?”

Cassian wet his lips. Revealing such personal, emotional aspects to himself was… entirely against his nature. Jyn did not count. She was simply an extension of himself.

“I would choose her.” Cassian held the man’s war-weary, hardened gaze that still somehow seemed to have an iota of softness about the edges. “I have chosen her.”

We live together. Or we die together.

“She’s my partner.”

Draven sighed, but inclined his head.

“I’ll update the rosters. Make whatever alterations to the mission outline you view fit.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I don’t know if you should be thanking me, Andor,” Draven said, but an elusive smirk flitted across his face.

Cassian did not hide his smile as he left, to find Jyn, and to tell her she was the newest member of the Alliance Intelligence unit.

[swanimagines]

What characters are you currently crushing on? (Or platonically if there aren't any) basically, who would make you happy for a one shot for your birthday?

AW???? I literally gasped and almost choked wtf???

(Also just a heads up if it isn’t too much to ask as I don’t know if you’re one of my moots/friends or someone who just wants to make my bday a little bit better, but if you usually write in first person, could you write in second or third person this one time? I hate first person in reader inserts and fiction in general to the extend that I'm too frustrated to read a piece written in first person and wouldn’t want you to write your oneshot in vain.)

I’m not crushing on anyone on this moment, romantically or platonically, as TMR Newt ended so abruptly OKAY SCRATCH THAT KAZ BREKKER HAS MY HEART NOW

I feel like Rupert Travis from Detroit: Become Human is slowly coming back but like DBH fandom is pretty much dying and almost nobody writes for him anyway so I don’t dare to ask him because I don’t know who you are and what characters do you know and the chances that you’d know my dearest birb boi are super small :D) but some of my all time faves I found years ago who still hold a place in my heart:

Heath Ledger’s Joker (The Dark Knight Trilogy)

Jerome Valeska (Gotham)

James Kidd/Mary Read (Assassin’s Creed 4)

Rupert Travis (Detroit: Become Human)

If those won’t match by you, here’s all my crushes along the years in general (I’ll still be your happy girl if you write something with them)

ROMANTIC:

Diaval (Maleficent)

James Kidd/Mary Read (Assassin’s Creed 4)

Wrench (Watch Dogs 2)

Cal Kestis (Star Wars)

Tennessee Kid Cooper (Sly Cooper)

John Murphy (The 100)

Rupert Travis (Detroit: Become Human)

Jerome Valeska (Gotham)

Sid (Gotham)

Ledger!Joker (The Dark Knight Trilogy)

Benny Watts (The Queen’s Gambit)

Kaz Brekker (Shadow and Bone)

PLATONIC:

Ralph (Detroit: Become Human)

Kurt Wagner (X-Men: Apocalypse)

Frodo Baggins (Lord of the Rings)

Zack Addy (Bones)

Cole (Dragon Age)

Newt (The Maze Runner)

But in case you still didn’t find anyone from those lists, you can pick one of these or a group, I’ll still be happy if you’ll write a fic with one of these!

Disney: Kida (from Atlantis), Nick Wilde (from Zootopia), Jasmine (from the new Aladdin) and Diaval (from Maleficent).

Watch Dogs: WD2 gang (Marcus, Sitara, Josh, Horatio, T-Bone and Wrench)!! Also Aiden is cool.

Stranger Things: Steve, Nancy, Robin, and (platonically) the kids.

Star Wars: Luke Skywalker, Han Solo, Leia Organa, Anakin Skywalker, Jyn Erso, Cassian Andor, someone give Bodhi a hug, Rey Skywalker, Finn and Poe Dameron + the droids need hugs ♥

Titans: the main gang + Dawn and Donna

Gotham: Jerome Valeska

The Umbrella Academy: Hargreeves siblings + Lila Pitts

OUAT: Child Henry Mills, but I like a lot of characters in this show and can’t really say anyone from the main cast who I absolutely dislike??

The Maze Runner: The Gladers + Brenda.

MCU: I like pretty much everyone, but for example, I like Peter Parker, MJ, Carol Danvers and Rocket.

X-Men: (Young) Kurt Wagner, Peter Maximoff, (either version of) Storm and (young) Jean Grey.

The Witcher: Geralt, Jaskier, Yennefer and I want to give Ciri a big hug :(

Peaky Blinders: Still picking as to S1, but at the moment pretty much everyone.

Lucifer: Pretty much everyone from the main cast but if you need me to specify some anyway, then Lucifer Morningstar, Chloe Decker, Mazikeen Smith, Ella Lopez and Linda Martin.

Julie and the Phantoms: The boys + Julie Molina

(And always remember that you aren’t obliged to do anything and I’ll be super happy even from a little note which reads Happy Birthday or something!!)

[septimaseverinawannawrite]

Saturday Seven 01

Hello, folks. Meet my own writing's event - the 'Saturday Seven'.

This event is the self-challenging to conquere my laziness procastinating, by writing a seven-paragraphs story, just like Sunday Six. The contents aren't released weekly, due to my careers (I'm really truly sorry.) But, I hope you would enjoy. 😊😊😊

Fandom: Star Wars

Pairing : Cassian Andor x F!Reader

Request: No. But based on this promt; "Just let me hold you for a minute."

Summaries: Cassian has a nightmare, even it is passing by for many years.

Warning: Andor season 1 spoilers.

Rate: T

Words: 190

🌹Click to My AO3

As Cassian reached out for her hands, she had drifted away. He kept shouting her name. Only darkness left, and he always woke up in the middle of the night. Panting, sweating, breathing harder and harder, he sat up. Expecting Y/N to sleep, he was wrong. She sat up just like him.

“Love, I’m alright. Back to sleep.” He said while she had starred at him, concerningly.

 “No, you aren’t.” She pursed her lips. “Kerri, isn’t it?”

Cassian silently replied; nodding. Y/N reached out to grab his hand. She knew by her heart. When he had dreamt about his long-lost young sister back from Kenari, it was an entire nightmare. This time was gravely. She saw the tears on his cheeks. So, she stopped him, beckoning him back to bed.

"I don't understand."

“Just let me hold you for a minute, before you go making yourself busy. Tonight, you need it.”

He hesitated a bit, but finally following her request. She hugged him tightly and caressing his back. He really needed it indeed, since he felt better than the past minutes – he even let a soft sigh escaped his mouth.

Thank you for reading. Likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated! English is my second language. If there are mistakes or confusion, please feel free to correct me. 😊

[andorlorian]

ok because I am mad at star wars: here's what I consider to be canon in star wars, in order from most canon to least canon, based on how much I like it and vibes. I won't be including things that I haven't seen or haven't come out yet. 

(lol this got really long and i want to keep it pinned so i can find it easily to edit so the actual content is going under a read more)

obviously the original trilogy is #1 on this list. it was the Blueprint. and aside from being the first it’s also the best. comfort movies i love them so much

jedi: fallen order (YES it is this high on the list I just finished the game three minutes ago and I'm fully deceased this is probably my favorite star wars thing ever)

rogue one is my personal favorite star wars movie. point blank bar none beautiful wonderful incredible movie. the moment with cassian and jyn at the end, just content to be in each other's space.... I'm in awe. CINEMA. perfection. beautiful.

andor is directly after this because it was absolutely incredible and everything i’ve ever wanted from star wars

revenge of the sith novelization by matthew stover. he invented literature idk what to tell you

2d animated clone wars. it is so fun everyone in that show is girlbossing to the extreme & i love it sm

the mandalorian season 1. stunning spectacular wonderful that’s everything i needed

the clone wars (2008-2020). this show single-handedly saved the star wars franchise which I find fascinating and incredible, and is the reason I now have star wars brainrot. ahsoka is and always has been my favorite out of all star wars ever

the book of boba fett episodes 1 & 2. forever riding the high of boba fett dancing with the tuskens. also i don't remember if boba's rancor was in the first two episodes but he's up here too

master and apprentice. really really good book, claudia gray knocked it out of the park. I love getting to know more about qui-gon and his relationship with obi-wan. also pax and rahara my beloveds

the phineas and ferb star wars special (i'm being 100% serious here)

I'm just going to do all the books at once unless I really like one. (this is also in order.) lost stars by claudia gray, kenobi by john jackson miller, queen's shadow by e.k. johnston, leia princess of alderaan by claudia gray, ahsoka by e.k. johnston

the prequels, but only in the sense that the big overarching plot points are canon to me. like for example anakin and padmé absolutely fall in love but in my heart they way they interacted was much different because george lucas doesn't know how to write romance

star wars rebels (ezra come home I miss u)

tarre vizsla origin story. it doesn't exist yet but I'm manifesting it. I want it so badly tarre vizsla my beloved

the original episode ix script: duel of the fates. while i am aware this is the script for a movie that will never exist or be acknowledged, i just love it so much. rey solana journeys on

solo: a star wars story! I think this movie is really fun and I enjoy it a lot. I really like han's characterization, especially the contrast between where he was at the beginning of this movie and where he was at the beginning of a new hope.

kenobi: meh it was alright. tiny leia was cute

the mandalorian seasons 2-3. now what was all that

the book of boba fett episodes 3-7. haven't watched the most recent episode but holy fuck how did it go off the rails so fast!! I love boba fett sm tho so anything with him has to be higher than the sequels at least

about 70% of the force awakens. this is probably my personal second favorite star wars movie. I love rey and I love finn and I love poe so much

the lego star wars christmas special

about 40% of the last jedi (i actually love this movie but it is very deeply flawed, i would change massive pieces of it if im being honest. it's the new moon of the star wars franchise)

absolutely none of the rise of skywalker except for the scene where rey, finn, and poe are hugging, so relieved to be back together and safe.

the bad batch

honorable mentions include every single thing tumblr user husborth has ever said or written, incorrectdisasterlineage's quotes, and that padmé didn't die in rots and helped to found the rebellion

[regrettablewritings]

If youre still doing the fluff meme, can I please request C, g , J, and X for Cassian andor?

Sure, you’re not too late! Stuff’s below the cut!

C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?):

In a word, terribly. It’s not as though the man has had plenty of opportunities to perfect the art (“There’s no room for cuddling in a war!” you could imagine him saying). You beat him to the punch, though, and insisted you try to squeeze in some cuddling time during the rare moments he was not on a mission, training, attending meetings, or whatever else his “captainly duties” requires of him. Unfortunately, Cassian wasrather avoidant of it; you dared to even accuse him of purposefully looking for ways to stay busy.

And then the Scarif mission happened.

After the injuries acquired, the remaining members of the “Rogue One” squadron were required to take time off to heal, regain their strength, and acquire more proper training. Cassian, to his dismay, was enforced by Mothma to do the former two. Even once he’d left the infirmary to continue resting in his own quarters, the scowl stuck; a stark contrast to the smugness you tried (and failed) to hide. Now he had no choice but to let you cuddle him.

“Hugs can release oxytocin; it’s good for healing!” you insisted to your mean-mugging boyfriend. The most you got was a bemused raise of a brow. “. . . I promise to be careful.”

“. . . You’re going to keep bringing this up, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

At the sound of his exasperated growl, you knew you had won. The careful positioning of your body against his made for an awkward experience, silently but knowingly worsened by the fact that you had to guide him on where to put his hands or what to do if he felt his arm beginning to fall asleep. It certainly wasn’t ideal, but the man was recovering from a wound; you both were on edge. Once he was further along in the healing process, you could count on the awkwardness decreasing as the two of you became more accustomed to one anothers bodies . . .

You counted wrong: He really is just not very good at it. He always felt tense, like he was trying to control everything down to his breathing, yet wasn’t able to control whatever it was necessary for him to loosen up. You made the occasional poke at this (“For a captain, you sure are more of a cadet at this.” “Shut up.”), but ultimately you knew not to give him such a hard time. Like you considered earlier: Cassian grew up in a war all his life; it wasn’t unsurprising for him to be uncertain -- even possibly uncomfortable with cuddling.

Except he’s not, actually: For as rigid as he can be, Cassian actually loves cuddles. He’s a touch-starved bastard, after all. But given how terrible he is at communicating -- especially communicating what he personally wants -- it’s no surprise he doesn’t outright admit to it. He pretends to go along with what you want, but closer to the surface than he would like to admit is the constant desire for your touch. Specifically, from the position of the little spoon. Sure, for the most part, he’ll be the big spoon; it brings about the least mount of suspicion, after all. But every so often, you’ll make a joke about how he needs to ease up on his arm tensing, or else he’ll cramp up. And that’s his golden opportunity.

“Then why don’t you show me how it’s done, Oh Almighty Cuddle Rat,” he scoffs, eyes rolling. He has to fight the urge to come off too eager when the two of you switch positions, with your chest against his back and your arms about his chest or waist. He’s glad you can’t easily see his face from this position, otherwise you’d be able to tell what sort of bliss he’s in. As the little spoon, he feels warm and safe: Two things he hasn’t felt much of in his life. But for as brilliant as it all feels to him, he’s actually not quite brave enough to admit to it.

But that’s fine: You already figured as much.

G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?):

Not especially. Cassian is trained more for fighting when not sniping: ginger fingers in the Rebellion more more reserved for mechanics or medics or people who specialized in acquiring fragile materials for varying purposes. As far as Cassian was concerned, the most careful he really needed to be with his hands was to make sure whatever punches he threw would break only his opponent’s nose and not his own fingers. But one could argue that technically, he was capable of gentleness.

Suffice to say, however, you weren’t entirely convinced: Watching the man you had unfortunately fallen in love with flip his sparring partner onto their back into the dirt with relative ease surprisingly doesn’t scream “thoughtful, careful lover with hands that can sew clouds together” to you. Regardless, you continued to love him, even eventually getting together with him romantically. But for as many things as you entered the relationship confident you could have an effect on, you simply left the expectation of gentleness at the door. Certainly, you didn’t expect outright roughness, but you weren’t exactly going to get your hopes up for him to suddenly have the fingers of an angel.

And for the first bit of a while, your expectations (or lack thereof) on that front were met. It wasn’t until you returned from a mission, however, that you found yourself questioning your ability to make assumptions. You had had a run-in with some Stormtroopers but thankfully managed to escape, albeit at the cost of receiving a cut on your forehead. But considering the alternative, you were grateful. Cassian, however, was less optimistic. His brow furrowed at the bleeding line streaking across the upper right bit of your face.

“C’mon, Cassian, it’s not that bad,” you insisted, trying to walk around him and to the infirmary. He didn’t seem convinced, judging by how he reflected your every side step. Eventually you grew tired of it.

“Seriously, I need to get to the infirmary, I just need stitches, that’s all --”

Calloused. His fingers were calloused. You already knew this, actually, given the few times you had held his hands in private, but feeling them on your face somehow seemed to really get that across to your brain. But in spite of their roughness in texture, the strength with which they held your face in place actually wasn’t especially firm at all. If anything, it was Cassian’s stare that was firm. It studied your every feature intently, their dark color managing to tell you one message from their murky depths: “Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere else?”

Every few seconds, they applied only the slightest bit more pressure to turn your head to a new angle. The inspection only stopped when you felt a new pearl of blood oozing down the side of your face, forcing you to bring about the end with a small cough. To his credit, Cassian did finally listen to you and let you go. You found yourself following the departure of his rough, careful fingers.

He exhaled with acceptance: “Go to the infirmary then; it’s not as bad as it could be.”

You blinked. That was all he had to say?! After all that?!

“Uh . . . But what --”

“I’ll check up on you this evening; I have a council to attend.” He gave you a nod and took his leave before you could even carry on, leaving you to your orders. The entire while the gentle and caring fingers of the medics touched your face, all you were craving were Cassian’s.

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?):

Most wouldn’t consider Cassian a catch to your absolute surprise. That still doesn’t mean you don’t get a little nervous now and then.You know how sophomoric and primeval it is, but you can’t help but narrow your eyes whenever you feel Jyn gets a little too close and personal with your boyfriend. You want to boot yourself up the ass whenever you witness Cassian attempt (and shockingly succeed) at seducing somebody to help him while on an assignment. There’s just no reason for you to distrust Cassian’s loyalty to you. Once he’s committed himself to something or someone, there simply is no other for him!

As for Cassian . . .

No, according to him. It’s so frivolous to worry over things like that; there’s a war going on, he has far better things to do than worry if somebody’s eyeballing you!

. . . Is what he would say if one were to ask him. But if one were to ask K2? It becomes a totally different story.

“Cassian has assigned Corporal Gregginor to lavatory cleanup duty 30% more often than previous chore rotations, ever since he saw him trying to teach you how to improve your aim,” the towering droid reveals to you one day.

You blink before raising a brow. “But . . . He was trying to teach me how to better aim my blaster.” Even without facial expression, you could tell K2 was emoting mischievous intent.

“That’s not what Cassian saw; he saw Gregginor putting his hands on your waist and making you bend over ever so slightly --”

“Okay, okay, I get it!” Your face burned (at the droid’s words, at what you realized in hindsight, at the fact Cassian saw), but decided to think nothing of it. Bathroom cleanup duty was a pain in the ass, certainly, but usually the task was reserved for those who had earned a higher ranking officer’s ire through use of inappropriate behavior or disobedience on a mission. There was just no way a captain like Cassian would use it as punishment for touching all over his woman . . . right?

Maybe not. But as the week wore on, you became less and less certain. For one, you barely saw Gregginor due to Cassian sending him all around base to deliver messages that arguably could’ve waited or been passed on to an even lower-ranking officer -- things like lunch orders or minute responses to words exchanged in earlier counsels. For another, when you did see Gregginor, it was usually at training -- and if he didn’t already look worse for wear, he would most definitely look that way by the end of it.

While it wasn’t unusual for a drill sergeant to call everyone to gather and watch him exhibit a move or attack with a sparring partner, Cassian deciding to fill in nearly every day was quite unusual. He insisted he had new tactics to show when questioned about his sudden decision to grace the group every day. And when questioned as to why he kept picking Gregginor as his sparring partner, he simply answered that he knew Gregginor could take whatever he threw at him.

“Besides,” Cassian would say just before wiping the ground with his opponent, “I’m going easy on him.” For the rest of every session, if your boyfriend wasn’t busy absolutely wasting Corporal Gregginor on the field, he was having him run laps or do an absurd amount of pushups. Finally, you had had enough.

“Okay, Cass,” you lightly glared following a particularly grueling session. “Is there any particular reason that you’ve been trying to make Greggi’s week an entire life’s worth of living Hell?”

Cassian, ever bemused by both unpleasant nicknames provided, responded with equal neutrality: “It builds character. He’s been slacking off, this is to make sure he stays on his toes.” You hummed a note that lacked conviction.

“Oh, really? You sure it has nothing to do with the fact that, in the process of helping me learn to better aim my blaster, he happened to place his hands on me hips to reposition my weight? Nothing at all?”

At the mentioning of the suggestive positioning that supposedly hadn’t gotten Gregginor into Cassian’s shit list, the latter’s eye dared to twitch. You caught it just enough and it gave you enough confidence to believe that maybe you had caught him as well. But, to your dismay, the captain didn’t come pouring out his confessions and regrets and apologies.

“Your aim needed work; who am I to get in the way of that?” he confirmed instead. Your mouth dropped in disbelief; was he really going to play like this?!

“And anyway,” Cassian continued, “stop being so ridiculous. Do you recognize how absolutely juvenile it would be to use my position for something so petty?” As much as you wanted to respond, you honestly weren’t sure how to. If you kept insisting, he’d probably just keep dodging. But if you left it alone, who knows how long he’d keep pulling this shit?

In the middle of your inner debate, Cassian flung his sweat-drenched towel over his shoulder. “Hit the showers,” he demanded. “Clearly, training’s done a number on you.” And with that, he turned to clean himself, leaving you to glare at his retreating figure. You swore you could sense him smirking the entire while.

X = Xylophone (What’s their song?):

Two come to mind:

First and foremost is “See the World” by Gomez, though it’s mainly directed at Cassian. It’s soft and simple, just as Cassian can be unassuming in his desire to not be showy or processed. Plus, the lyrics simply fit:

Day to day, Where do you want to be? ‘Cause now you’re trying to pick a fight With everyone you need

You seem like a soldier Who’s lost his composure You’re wounded and playing a waiting game In no man’s land, no one’s to blame

See the world: Find an old-fashioned girl And when all’s been said and done, It’s the things that are given, not won Are the things that you’ve earned

Cassian has dedicated so much of his life wrapping it around the Rebellion: It’s practically a part of him at this point. The problem is, he doesn’t seem to recognize what a problem this can actually be. He doesn’t think about what this means when the war is over, who he’ll be, who he wants to be. He’s just spent so much of his time composing himself in a specific manner, even at the cost of having very few close relationships or making the ones he does get a bit difficult to navigate. With a song like this, he’s being reminded to reevaluate his stances, to remember that Rebellions aren’t just about fighting: It’s also about fighting for what you want in the future.

He needs to see the world, not just what he’s been assigned to see for recon. He needs to explore who he is or who he may want to be without the Rebellion. He needs to find a non-K2 companion to love and go off exploring with -- Actually . . .

He snaps out of his reverie and glances at you, huddled up beside him. The cot is far from roomy or comfortable, yet you don’t seem to mind it. And, when he thinks about it, neither does he . . .

The runner up: “Cold Cold Man” by Saint Motel. This song doesn’t exactly scream Cassian at first because what you initially hear being screamed is overly bouncy music you can easily dance to. Picture you flailing and jumping and twirling around with a stone-cold Cassian standing in the middle of it all. That’s this song in a nutshell. No, really:

Oh, my love I know I am a cold, cold man Quite slow to pay you compliments Or public displayed affections

But baby, don’t you go over analyze No need to theorize, I can put your doubts to rest:

You’re the only one worth seeing, The only place worth being, The only bed worth sleeping is the one right next to you

Cassian isn’t exactly the most openly affectionate person. He knows it, K2 knows it, everyone knows it. Even his friends poke fun at him about it. And even though you know it yourself, you can’t help but sometimes lapse into moments of doubt: Is he happy with you? Does he intend on actually being with you for as long as possible, or is it more like any port in the storm with you?

Of course, you feel awful for thinking these things: It’s not as though Cassian is purposefully withholding certain affections from you; it just isn’t really a part of who he is as a person to be as forward as the average lover. Repetitive as it might seem, growing up the way he did just doesn’t tend to fair well for one’s ability to properly emote. But he knows this isn’t fair to you. He can’t keep using his past as a crutch.

Hence why once, every bluest of blue moons, you’ll receive a reminder. He’ll awkwardly sway with you, even dare to smile as you dance goofily in your quarters. He’ll initiate the hand holding in a corridor, even if he knows there’s definitely other personnel around. He’ll join you at night to just watch the stars, even if they don’t especially astound him (why would they? You can usually see them on any given planet, especially if you’ve traveled as often he has). He doesn’t make any suggestion that he’s uncomfortable with you shitting between his legs, or that he has an issue with you playing with his fingers. You could’ve honestly called it a great night if it had ended there, with you leaning back against his chest, letting the nice, balmy night air soothe you to sleep.

But it’s the unexpected kiss you feel on your temple that yanks you back. You’re afraid to move, certain that if you do, the mood will be lost and your normally gruff boyfriend will no longer want to keep letting you sit there. It’s only when you feel his arms wrap around you with more certainty that you know there’s nothing to can do in this moment that will make him want to let go. There’s nothing in this galaxy that would make him want another.

You’re the only one worth it all to him.

Thank you very much for asking and for being patient!

[79chevyimpala]

Cwtches

They had just gotten back from the scouting mission assigned by Leia.  Zeb had gone to check-in with his Ghost family, and Kallus went to medical on his own, knowing Zeb would have had no problems manhandling him to the med-droids, and while Kallus loved to be manhandled by Zeb, he was in no mood for the inevitable teasing he would have received from any and everyone who saw.  So he had gone on his own.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27664250

Once Kallus had been cleared by medical, he and Zeb went to debrief Senator Mon Mothma.  She and the rest of command were eager to know the suitability of the scouted location for the next Rebel base.  Zeb and Kallus were of the opinion that the planet they had scouted was inhospitable, but they may have been biased. After the debrief, General Draven took Kallus aside and Zeb decided to wait for Kal outside, just in case the discussion was something he hadn't the clearance for.  "While Operation Fracture was ultimately a success, I regret to inform you that Captain Cassian Andor and all of Rogue One was lost." There must have been a glitch in Kallus' brain, because all he could offer back to Draven was a look of utter confusion.  He thought, if he remembered correctly that Operation Fracture had something to do with an Imperial scientist named Erso, but had absolutely no idea what Rogue One was. If he had been a man prone to dramatics, he would have sighed at the look of confusion, but he remembered that the Captain had already been gone when the shit hit the fan.  He knew no other way than blunt so blunt he was, "Captain Andor is dead.  Draven "The Dick" (as Zeb called him) turned and walked away from a shocked Kallus, and didn't bother to acknowledge the Lasat as he passed by. Zeb could not have cared less about the General, but it should have meant that Kal was right behind, but he wasn't.  'Ok Zeb, someone else probably needed to talk to Kal, no big deal,' he told himself.  Ten minutes went by - no Kal, then it was 15 minutes, and Zeb was getting anxious.  He peeked into the command center and the only people there were there were the command techs.  "Karabast!" "I'm sorry, Sir, I don't know what that means," said the closest tech. "It's probably better you don't, kid." The tech gave him a knowing wink, "Gotcha.  If you are looking for Captain Kallus, he went out that way about 15 minutes ago." "Uh, thanks Mate," Zeb said after he started walking away.  The tech appreciated the gesture, he knew the Captain had something on his mind and hadn't meant to be rude, unlike a certain General.   It always unnerved Zeb when the techs did that.  He should have known better, the ones who were never seen, were the ones who saw everything. The next place Zeb went was Kal's bunk, but Kal wasn't there.  He assessed the situation from what he knew and chose one of the two next logical places to look for a disappeared Kallus.  And he found Kallus exactly where he thought he would, amongst the "clean lines and hard angles" of the Palace of the Woolamander.  "Do I need to go kick Draven's ass?" "Zeb?"  Kallus was confused for a moment before he focused on what Zeb had asked him.  "Oh, ah not this time, he was just the messenger." Zeb knew that tone of voice Kal used.  Zeb did not like that tone of voice Kal used when he thought he hadn't done enough because the outcome wasn't one he had expected, even if he had nothing to do with the original situation. If one was to believe Kallus, he would be responsible for every evil deed the Empire has done even before he joined. He had squatted down on his haunches to be closer to Kal when he noticed something in Kallus' hands, "Whatcha got there Kal?" Without uttering a word, Kallus just handed the object over to Zeb.  After he took it, he sat down all the way opposite Kallus.  Then Zeb looked at what he was holding.  It was a hand held holo projector with a still image displayed.  It took Zeb a minute to figure out what he was looking at, and what it was was a picture of Kal with a dark haired and darker than Kallus skinned man at (and this was the kicker, if he hadn't been looking at it he never would have believed it of straight laced Kal) a tattoo parlor! Before Zeb could say anything, Kallus spoke, "That is Captain Cassian Andor of Rebel Intelligence, a fellow Fulcrum, and the person I defected to," here Kallus had paused briefly, "He was also my only friend after you." Zeb set aside that last bit to examine later, instead he focused on the young man, "He seems really young, he's just a kit like . . ." "Ezra," Kallus breathed, "I had thought the same thing when I met him.  He was only 26." "Was?" Zeb asked knowing he was not going to like the answer. "Captain Andor lead a team to Scarif to retrieve structural plans for what had been being built over Geonosis.  While ultimately the mission was a success, he along with everyone on Scarif were lost." To anyone else, Kallus might have sounded cold, but Zeb (and maybe it was because of his Lasat ears) heard the lilts Kal was trying so hard to hide.  He didn't say anything as he handed the projector back to Kallus, but before Kallus could pull his hand back, Zeb had grabbed Kal's wrist and pulled the grieving man into a fierce hug.  He hoped he could convey all the love and support he had for Kal through the strength of his arms holding Kal tight, and the pounding of his heart. "Ashakrawhante, Zeb."

@comfortember

[kylo-renegade]

Practice- Cassian Andor x Reader

Requested By: Anon.

Request: “Hey I wanted to request a prompt but couldn't decide who I wanted it for. Could you do something with prompt 58 please? With either Luke, Cassian or Poe? Thanks! Can't wait to read more of your stuff!”

Words: 1.9K

Warnings: None, I think?

A/N: So I like this, but I’m still unsure of it. I think that it’s pretty good, but I also edited it a lot. I hope that you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it (which was a lot!)

You woke up more sore than you had been in weeks. Sitting up in bed was a form of torture and you let out a groan of discomfort as you adjusted yourself to sitting position. You blamed Cassian Andor. He had come up with this new, absolutely hellish training program and had asked if you and Jyn would test it out. You knew he was excited about it, so you told your boyfriend yes, roping Jyn into it with you. It was only day 4 and you were ready to call it quits.

There was a loud bang at your door and groaned as you started to shift to the side of the bed.

“One minute!” You called, pushing yourself to stand. You muscles tightened and clenched with every step and by the time you reached the door, not far from your bed, you were ready to sit back down and relax them. You unlocked the door and were greeted by a displeased looking Jyn. She stared at you as she massaged her neck slowly with her palm.

“If I have to do now more day of Cassian’s workout, I’m going to be crippled for life.” She said, walking in. You nodded along with her as the two of you headed to the couch. Plopping down and sighing with relief, you looked at her.

“I hear you Jyn. My body feels like it’s going to explode. Any more working out or training might actually kill me.” You exclaimed dramatically. Jyn rubbed her shoulder as you massaged your sore leg muscles. 

“How many more days of this program do we have?” Jyn asked tiredly. You thought for a minute, before sighing in realization.

“4. It’s a week-long program.” You said. Jyn’s eyes widened as she gently shook her head, wincing every once and a while at the movement.

“No, absolutely not. I am not doing another 4 days of hell. We need to find some way to occupy or distract him. Any ideas?” Jyn asked. You thought for a minute, before shaking your head. You couldn’t think of anything in this galaxy that would stop your excited boyfriend from doing this program.

You and Jyn both jumped (and winced) at the knock at the door. You pushed yourself to your feet, the muscles aching again, to go to the door. It opened to reveal a smiling Cassian Andor.

“Mi Amor.” He said, smiling. You immediately let your face relax into a smile as he stepped forward and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. You would usually hug him, but you couldn’t make yourself lift your arms.

“You ready for another day of training?” He asked giddily. You internally groaned, but after looking at him, you couldn’t find it in you to complain. His eyes were gleaming so bright, so happily. He had a big smile on his face and he looked happier than you had seen him in days. He was happy the training was going so well. You couldn’t crush his dreams, so you simply smiled at him and nodded.

“Of course. I’m more than ready! I’m raring to go!” You said, pumping your fist, only to grimace afterward. Thankfully, Cassian didn’t notice the grimace, simply smiling and kissing you again.

“Tell Jyn to meet down at the training area at 9. I thought before that, you and I could get breakfast?” He asked, smiling hopefully. You melted at the gesture of love, before nodding with a genuine, warm smile on your face.

“Of course we can darling. I’ll be in the dining hall at 8?” You asked. Cassian nodded, before taking your hand and giving it a small kiss.

“Till then, mi amor.” He said, with one last smile, before walking down the hall. You watched him go with a lovestruck smile on your face, before walking into your room, realizing that day 4 was a go. You walked back to the couch and plopped down, groaning as you buried your hand in your face.

“Was that Cassian?” Jyn asked. You nodded, before looking up at her with distress.

“Yeah. He wants to have breakfast with me before training.” You said. Jyn raised an eyebrow at you curiously.

“Alright. Can I ask why you look so distressed?” Jyn asked, observing your face with confusion. You groaned as you ran a hand through your hair, throwing your head back to rest on the back of the couch.

“Jyn, we have 4 more days of this. 4 more days! And I do not have the guts to tell Cassian how I can’t put up with another 4 days. My body is going to shut down and I just really wish we didn’t have to do this anymore.” You explained, hurriedly. Jyn nodded, patting your shoulder as a form of support. 

“I hear you, Y/N. I wish there was some way that we could distract Cassian from training to get a day off.” She said. You nodded, before sighing.

“Me too. But I don’t think there is anything we can do. I guess we’ll just have to suck it up.” You said, trying to stretch out your arms to prepare them for another day of boxing, shooting, and lifting.

“Maybe there is something we can do. Well, at least you can do.” Jyn finally spoke. You looked to Jyn as her eyes opened wide and a grin slowly started to spread on her face. You looked at her, suspiciously. That grin usually was followed by a plan that you didn’t necessarily always like.

“Jyn, whatever this plan is, I’m out.” You said, trying to stand before Jyn pulled you back down to sit, smiling at you as she sat up slightly.

“No, this plan is brilliant! So Cassian is so head over heels for you, so why don’t we use that to get Cassian to give us a break?” She asked, excitedly. You raised an eyebrow at her, a nonverbal signal for her to continue.

“All you have to do is convince Cassian to give us the day off,” Jyn said. You furrowed your brows at her and sighed.

“And how am I supposed to do that? I can’t talk to him about how rough training is, or else I’ll feel awful. I’m supposed to be supporting him, not tearing him down.” You said, the guilt already eating at you. Jyn nodded before she perked up again.

“Maybe you don’t have to talk about training or not wanting to do training.” She said. She rolled her eyes at the look on your face, which was one of confusion.

“It’ll be easy. You just have to seduce him.” You almost laughed as Jyn said that statement, shaking your head at her.

“You’re kidding, right? I’m about as seductive as a cabbage.” You said, sniffling laughter. Jyn pouted at you before crossing her arms.

“Y/N, it’s Cassian. You could wear a trash bag and I think he would still think you were the hottest thing since magma. Come on, just give it a try. For you… for me?” She pleaded. You stared at her face for a second, before sighing and standing up.

“Fine, but if it doesn’t work than I’m not at fault.” You said. Jyn let out a small cheer as you rolled your eyes, a smile slipping onto your face. You walked to your small closet, grabbing one of Cassian’s jackets, before exiting the room to go to your boyfriend’s quarters. His room wasn’t too far from yours, and you could tell by the way he took a second to answer he wasn’t expecting you. He smiled as he looked at you standing at his door.

“Hey Y/N. I thought we were meeting at the dining hall?” He said. You smiled, before stepping into his room.

“I figured I’d come to see you first. Spend some time with you before breakfast.” You said as Cassian followed behind you as you sat on the couch. He sat beside you, smiling still.

“I’d like that a lot.” He said. You smiled at him, your mind racking with how you could manage to “seduce” him into giving you a day off. You scooted closer to him, nuzzling your head into his neck. You heard him give a slight chuckle as you rested your head there, a large arm resting around your waist. You looked up at him and captured his lips with a smile. 

He kissed you back and wrapped his arms around your waist, bringing you closer. You cheered victoriously in your head, as you kissed your boyfriend, arms wrapping around his neck. However, your victory didn’t last for long as he pulled away and started to get you. You let out a small whine as he laughed lightly at you.

“Come on, breakfast awaits us.” He said. You pouted at him as he stared at you. He raised an eyebrow as you looked at him, unmoving.

“What’s up? You love breakfast and normally you’re dragging me there in the mornings.” He said, sitting down. Your mind raced. You tried to find something to do, to say, that would convince him to spend the day with you, but you came up blank. You sighed as you grabbed his hand.

“Cassian, you know I love you a lot, right?” You said. Cassian’s face dropped and you immediately realized what your words sounded like. You squeezed his hand as you smiled at him.

“Don’t worry. It’s just that this training program has been rough, and my body is aching and every movement hurts. Jyn said that she thought that maybe I could convince you to give us a day off, but that obviously didn’t work very well for me.” You rambled. Cassian nodded at your words as you looked him in the eye earnestly.

“Cas, I support you and this training program. But Jyn and I really need to rest otherwise I don’t think I’m ever gonna be able to move again.” You said. Cassian stared at you, before smiling and kissing your forehead.

“Why didn’t you just say so? I’m honestly surprised that you didn’t say this earlier, cause even I’m sore from training.” Cassian said.  A relieved smile spread on your face as a sigh escaped your lips that you had been holding. Cassian grabbed your hands and kissed them.

“If a day to relax is what you need, then I have no problem giving you that. We can spend the day together, just spending time in each others company.” He said. You nodded, standing up.

“I’d like that. Now let’s go get some breakfast, and then we can come back here and cuddle.” She said. Cassian nodded, hand slipping in yours as you walked out of the room on your day off.

Bonus:


“So, what was the plan to get me to give a day off?” Cassian asked as you walked. You scratched the back of your neck, embarrassed, and gave a sheepish smile.

“Jyn said I should try and seduce you.” You said hesitantly. Cassian laughed at your blushing form as you walked.

“Love, I adore you, but you are awful at being seductive.” He said. Your eyes widened as you nodded.

“That’s exactly what I told Jyn!” You said. Cassian laughed as he pressed a kiss to your head and leaned down.

“Besides, I’m always seduced by you.” He whispered. You blushed even harder as Cassian just laughed. 

[joeybelle]

Starlight - Chapter 25

Relationship: Cassian Andor x Original Female Character

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: NSFW, Sexual Content, Strong language

Size: 8600

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Cora woke up completely disoriented. The world was spinning rapidly and a couple of moments had to pass before it stabilized enough for her to realize that she wasn’t in fact moving, and it was just one of the side effects of irresponsible drinking. But that wasn’t the main problem.

The first problem was the darkness. It was pitch black and she hadn’t slept in complete darkness since she’d moved to Yavin. Her eyes were wide open, staring into the nothingness, feeling lost. She knew that even in case of a power outage, the batteries in Ben’s tank would still last for at least a few days. Second, this was definitely not her bed. Not only was the mattress different, but the sheets felt odd against her skin. She splayed her fingers, trying to take in as much of her environment as possible without giving away that she was awake. She had no idea where she could have ended up. Even the vents that constantly pumped air sounded different.

She just laid there unmoving for a couple of minutes, eyes wide trying to adjust to the darkness, but in the end she gathered all her courage to start feeling around. Her throat felt dry and irritated and she really needed to pee, so she had to find out where she was and if it was safe to go look for a bathroom.

She extended her arm and started exploring. Her heart almost jumped out of her chest when she realized that someone was laying next to her in bed, fast asleep. It should have crossed her mind that if she wasn’t in her own bed, it probably belonged to someone else. And it would have been pretty plausible for that someone to still be occupying it. But the feeling of his warm skin against the palm of her hand was so familiar that she instinctively relaxed, even before fully registering that the man next to her was in fact the one and only, Captain Andor.

Cora let out a sigh of relief that quickly turned into a silent laughter. She was a fool. She should have realized the instant she woke up that this was Cassian’s bed because it smelled like him, intoxicatingly so, even with the tang of alcohol covering almost everything else. Panic had taken over for a moment and she froze, as usual.

But why did it stink like alcohol and why was she in Cassian’s bed?

Once she was fully awake the memories flooded back. She’d taken a couple of days off knowing that, as always, she wouldn’t be able to focus on anything on her mother’s death anniversary. Especially since the nights leading to it had been terrible. She hadn’t planned on drinking but she’d woken up shaking in the middle of the night and had trouble going back to sleep. She felt like shit in the morning, and then it even got worse as the day proceeded. So she decided it was time to properly mourn, get this out of her system and hopefully be able to sleep better after. Or at least, feel like shit because of the hangover. She grabbed her bottle of Corellian brandy and hid from everyone on the platform outside, fully determined to finish it by herself. She wondered if she’d managed.

Her memory was a little foggy, but to her surprise she only seemed to have completely blacked out at the end, cause she had no recollection as to how she got in this unfamiliar room. Or she’d fallen asleep, she wasn’t sure. But she remembered Cassian coming to look for her, she remembered telling him the story and the sadness on his face as he listened. She was really happy that he’d come, it helped ease her mind knowing that he was back home, safe.

She inched closer and hugged him, kissing him softly on the cheek. He shifted a little under her touch and Cora froze, hoping that he wouldn’t wake up.

“Morning,” he mumbled, and Cora sighed. “You’re up already?”

“I woke up to pee,” she replied in all honesty and Cassian chuckled, a sound that filled her with warmth.

“Did you find the bathroom?”

“I didn’t want to wake you up,” she said, stretching. “And it’s so cozy in here anyway.” Cassian laughed and turned on a light on the nightstand above their heads. Cora blinked a few times, adjusting to the light.

His room was a lot smaller than hers, Cora noticed looking around. There was a bed, a desk and a chair, a wardrobe and a door that she supposed lead to a refresher. In fact, it was pretty standard for a single room, but Cora had gotten so used to her roomy living space that she sometimes had to remind herself that it had been built with more people in mind than just her.

“I’ll be back,” she said, pecking Cassian’s lips before getting out of bed and heading for the refresher.

Cassian’s room was exactly how she imagined it: neat, simple, with little things that made it personal. There was a pair of old, used boots in a corner of the room, his blue parka was hanging on one side of the door, and there was a blaster rifle leaning on the wall, next to his desk. His desk was also pretty neat, much cleaner than hers. The only things in sight were a datapad, a couple of military strategy books stacked in a corner, and a blaster pistol. Nothing was out of order besides the pile of clothes thrown on the floor.

Cora looked down at what she was wearing: one of Cassian’s shirts, she assumed, and her underwear. She had no idea how or when she’d changed.

“Did we… you know?” she asked, hearing Cassian outside the bathroom. She didn’t mind if they did, but she was annoyed at the lack of memory.

“No, you fell asleep on me,” he answered. “I had to fight you to get you changed.”

“Figures,” she mumbled. “Why does everything stink like brandy? And why am I so sticky?”

“Because you insisted on baptizing us both with what was left in the bottle,” he laughed, poking his head though the open door. Cora groaned, hiding her face in her palms. “Melshi would be proud, you know.”

“No, please! Don’t mention that devil,” she feigned indignation. “You should have kicked me into the shower last night, you shouldn’t have let me soil your sheets.”

“Doesn’t matter, they needed changing anyway. How are you feeling?”

“Surprisingly not as bad as I’d expected,” she said, washing her hands. “I mean I’m somewhat dizzy and my head hurts a bit, but other than that I’m fine. Jet juice was far worse than this and I never drank this much.” She was dehydrated like a raisin. Her mouth was really dry and her stomach a bit disgruntled, but she’d expected to be puking her guts out and wishing an early death after pulling a stunt like that. Surprisingly, none of that had happened yet.

“Yeah, jet juice is terrible. At least the Corellian stuff is high quality. Here, drink this,” he said, handing her a bottle of water.

“Thanks, I was just gonna ask you for something to drink,” she said, taking the bottle to her lips and drinking greedily. “You’re a lifesaver.”

Cassian smiled. He was only dressed in his underwear, his hair sticking awkwardly in all directions, looking sticky and matted. He must have been right when he said she baptised them both, her hair felt and smelled terrible too. She noticed a red and purple bruise on his fingers when she handed him an empty bottle.

“What happened to your hand?” she asked, catching his wrist between her fingers before he had the time to hide it.

“”Just a bruise,” he said, looking embarrassed. “Hammered it yesterday. It’s no big deal.”

Cora let go of his hand, but only after making sure that he was indeed telling the truth. He’d be ok with just a bacta patch and a kiss, for now.

“What’s the time?” she asked, once Cassian returned to the bedroom.

“Very early. It’s still dark outside.”

“Oh.” Her perception of time was completely screwed. She had no idea when she started drinking or when she eventually stopped, but she had vague memories of a sunset. Or she might have dreamt that, she had no idea. “You should go back to sleep, then. Is it okay if I take a shower in the meantime?”

“Yeah, take your time,” he said, picking up some clothes off the floor. “I’ll just tidy up a bit.”

Cora watched him from the bathroom door. She could see a couple more bruises on his skin, but nothing life threatening so she decided this wasn’t the right time to pester him about them. Instead, she allowed herself to be happy that he was back home, in far better condition than other times. She wanted to make the most out of the time spent together, because she never knew when he’d be sent back.

“Or... you could join me if you don’t plan on sleeping,” she offered with a cheeky grin on her lips. Cassian stopped halfway through picking up the clothes on the floor. “Since I doused you in brandy, I might as well help clean you up.”

Cassian smirked and dropped the clothes in the same spot. It seemed they weren’t a priority anymore as he walked towards Cora. His pace was slow, but determined, and suddenly he didn’t remind her of the cute, fuzzy rodent she used to play with when she was a kid. No, he looked like something much more dangerous, something darker, and the thrill was making her belly squirm. Cora didn’t know if she was still drunk or not, but her face flushed in a matter of seconds, and she could feel herself becoming quite lightheaded. Anticipation was making her heart beat faster as she stepped backwards into the cramped refresher, Cassian following suit.

He didn’t wait around, but grabbed the hem of her shirt and in one fluid motion pulled it over her head. Cora shivered when the air hit her skin, but it wasn’t just the cold that was giving her goosebumps. Cassian was admiring her with a hungry look in his eyes, like he’d been starving for her and wasn’t able to restrain himself anymore.

“That didn’t take much convincing,” she laughed, splaying her hands on his chest.

“I didn’t think I’d have to play hard to get,” he said, taking a quick step forward, closing the gap between them and pinning her to the wall.

“You weren’t that easy to get either… historically speaking.” Cora smiled cheekily and sucked in a breath as her breasts pressed against him, her nipples perking up at the contact.

Cassian kissed her jaw right under her ear. “You think so? I thought I was pretty easy.”

Cora nodded and snaked her hands around his neck, pulling him into a long, languid kiss. “You were a nightmare.”

Oh, how she’d missed his touch, his kisses on her jaw, his scent. She’d gotten so used with him being grounded and sharing a bed almost every night that the moment he had to leave once again, the absence was almost physically painful. So she promised herself to make the most of their time spent together, to enjoy every brief touch, every fleeting kiss. Her fingers tangled in his hair as he kissed down her neck, pulling gently to guide him where she wanted his lips. He was obediently following her guidance, kissing, licking and nibbling at the soft skin, before going back up to claim her lips.

Cassian’s hips pressed into hers and she could feel his growing arousal through the thin material of their undergarments. Her hand dropped between them, slowly massaging his cock, feeling it twitch at her touch.

Cassian was patient, almost annoyingly so. He didn’t rush to undress her, instead focused on what was already in front of him. He brushed his lips over her right nipple, slowly kneading her soft flesh, while leaning into her hand for a little more pressure.

Cora hissed once his mouth closed over her nipple, sucking gently. “Should we actually shower?” she asked, a little out of breath. “Before we become too busy to care about that?”

“Mhm,” he mumbled, a bit reluctant to move his lips from her breast, but hitting a switch on the wall anyway.

It was a bit of a shock when the water hit her skin, but it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. She was still pretty dehydrated so she wondered if she could absorb some moisture through her skin like some sort of amphibian. They fiddled a little with the temperature, Cora yelping and giggling whenever it was too hot or too cold, but in the end they found a setting that they both enjoyed. She took off her wet underwear, something both of them forgot to do before turning the water on.

“You know, this reminds me of Samarkand,” she said, slipping her thumbs under the waistband of his boxers and pulling them off. Her heart skipped a beat; the excitement of seeing him fully naked before her hadn’t diminished no matter how often they slept together. “But I think there was even less space on your ship,” she added, trying to hide her blush.

Cassian chuckled. “Yeah, that one’s smaller,” he said, looking around. He squirted some shampoo from the wall dispenser and started shampooing his hair.

“I really didn’t mind the lack of space,” she smiled, spreading some shower gel on his body instead of her own. She had a feeling they wouldn’t be doing much washing, because her fingers kept tracing the outline of his muscles down to his cock instead of focusing on the task at hand. Cassian seemed a little less distracted, taking some more shampoo and starting to wash her hair too.

“Is that so?”

“Mhm,” she purred, closing her eyes and leaning into his touch like a cat looking for affection. His fingers felt so good on her scalp, gently massaging circles into her skin as she left her soapy hands wander up and down his torso. He brushed his lips over hers before going in for a proper kiss. She could taste the faint aroma of shampoo that washed over his face from time to time, but it didn’t matter.

The only thing that mattered was him and the closeness between them, and how good it felt when he let his hands brush down her neck, spreading the perfumed foam all over her shoulders. What mattered were the deep, hungry kisses that meant more than a thousand unspoken words.

Eventually, the shower was forgotten. Cassian had pinned Cora to the wall, hands above her head, kissing and licking across her collarbone, leaving angry red spots whenever he sucked a little to hard. The water automatically turned off at some point, but neither of them noticed, too lost in the heat of the moment to give a damn about what was going on around them.

His fingers inside her were drawing restrained gasps of pleasure from her parted lips. By now he knew her by heart, his fingers almost instinctively finding her most sensitive spots. His palm pressing against her clit was making her tremble, and she kept thrusting her hips forward to meet the movement of his hand. She moaned when his lips closed over her nipple, sucking gently, her mind becoming cloudier with every flick of the tongue, with every curl of his fingers inside.

The tension was rapidly building inside her and it didn’t take long for Cassian’s expert fingers to take her over the edge, her nerves on fire. When he let go of her hands, she let herself slide down to her knees, her legs too wobbly to sustain her weight. She was breathing fast and shivering all over from her orgasm and as she peeked up, she saw Cassian looking at her with a very smug smile on his lips.

“Very pleased with ourselves, are we?” she laughed.

“A bit,” he replied, grinning.

“Well, you should be. A bit.”

She looked him in the eye when she took him in her hand and gave the head a tentative lick. The smug smile vanished in an instant, something more primal taking its place. His hands went to the wall for support and Cora snickered, fully aware that if he knew how to push her buttons, she knew how to make him lose his composure too.

No matter how restrained Cassian usually was, he didn’t try to put up a front when it came to sex. While he wasn’t really vocal, Cora could easily tell when she did the right thing. From the twitch of his cock when she licked the underside to the almost inaudible hiss that escaped his mouth when she took him in her mouth, trying to fit as much as she could without gagging, he was really easy to read. The ridge between his eyebrows accentuated as she flicked her tongue on the head, tasting his precum.

She liked seeing him like that, on the verge of losing all composure, knowing that she was the one making him feel that way. It was one of the very few instances when Cassian dropped his mask completely, letting himself be vulnerable and open, so she kept her eyes open, enjoying the look of complete surrender on his face.

She could feel the tension in his thighs as he tried not to push back into her throat knowing she didn’t like it. Cora did her best to quicken the pace and give him the release he so desperately needed, but Cassian stopped her. It seemed like he wasn’t gonna be as patient anymore, as he helped her up and turned her around to face the wall. Cora brought her hands forward for support and spread her legs to give him better access. She looked over her shoulder, a lascive smile playing on her lips as he hastily positioned himself behind her.

He entered her in one quick thrust of his hips, filling her completely, almost knocking the air out of her. Cora sucked in a breath as he placed soft kisses on her shoulder, allowing her to get used to the sensation of him filling her. It was more a case of mental adjusting, though, her body already ready to have him, but she still enjoyed the tiny moment of stillness, the way their bodies connected and fit so deliciously together, before he started pumping into her.

His pace was rushed and a little erratic, but Cora enthusiastically met his thrusts. His wet skin was slapping against her butt, filling the tiny bathroom with lewd sounds that mixed with the silent gasps of pleasure that sometimes escaped their parted mouths. She was already lost in the pleasure he managed to bring forth. It seemed so easy for him to make her lose her mind, she felt like she was putty in his hands.

It didn’t take long for another orgasm to ripple through her entire body, leaving her lightheaded and breathless and terribly satisfied. He quickly followed, coming inside her with a low grunt, and hugging her tight, his face in the crook of her neck. For a moment, he rested his weight on Cora, completely spent. She entwined her fingers with his, just holding his hand for a while, before turning around and kissing him.

They stayed in the shower a few more minutes as they caught their breath, the warm water washing the sweat off their bodies. Cora had her eyes closed, clinging to Cassian’s frame, her nose touching the skin on his neck. He used the same standard shower gel everyone on base used, but somehow it smelled different on his skin. She sighed, content.

“Do you want to get back in bed?” he said softly in her ear, turning the water off.

“Yeah,” she sighed, content.

Cassian broke away from the embrace long enough to find a towel and drape it over Cora’s shoulders. She smiled when he started drying her hair, she liked it when he took care if her. In exchange, she grabbed the edge of the towel and started patting some of the water dripping off his chest.

“When did you come back?” she asked, running her fingers over his skin along with the towel.

“Yesterday night.”

“How did your mission go?” He passed the edge of the towel over her cheek wiping a drop of water and then kissed the spot. He was silent and his face had gone back to the usually unreadable mask he was wearing in public, so Cora knew not push. “How’s your hand?” she asked instead.

“Pretty good, I’d say.” He lifted his arm to let her look. The injuries he’d gotten on Samarkand had healed properly, especially since he’d been given time to rest. The other good thing about him being grounded—apart from spending a lot of time with Cora—was that he’d been given time for his injuries to properly heal. But even so, injuries like that might still hurt from time to time.

“I’m glad,” she said, kissing his wrist.

Once they were both relatively dry he started looking through the closet for a change of clothes. Cora huffed, a little disappointed. She didn’t mind looking at him walk around butt naked all day long, but she guessed it was time for them to get dressed. She smiled when he handed the neatly stacked pile of clothes to her.

“I hope these fit you,” he said. “Yours are still damp. I’ll put them in a laundry bag and take them to the cleaners in the morning.”

“Thank you,” she said, putting on a shirt that barely covered her ass, and leaving the rest on the nightstand. She’d probably have to walk to her room dressed in his clothes, but if she left early enough no one would see her. Not that she cared if anyone knew about her and Cassian, but she didn’t want it to look like she was parading their relationship. “I didn’t know you were back. If I’d known I wouldn’t have…” The words died down when she tried saying them out loud. “I’m sorry that you had to see me like that,” she said, looking away, but Cassian’s hand cupped her chin and made her look up at him.

“Hey, it’s okay. There’s nothing to apologize for.” He kissed her, pulling her close to his chest. “Everyone has bad days. I’m sorry that I couldn’t do more for you.”

“You listened to my drunken ramblings, that’s enough for me.” She rested her head on his still naked shoulder, breathing in the scent of his skin.

“Don’t say that. It wasn’t just that,” he said, frowning slightly.

“Yeah, you’re right,” she sighed. “But I still shouldn’t have unloaded on you. You have enough things to worry about as it is.”

“I’ll always listen if you want me to. But I might not be the best equipped to help you.”

Cora lifted her head from his shoulder and looked at him. He seemed worried, the crease between his eyebrows pretty visible. She sighed. This was one of the reasons she hated talking about her past, because it always made people worry about her mental health and it annoyed her. Although most of the time she knew they only wanted the best for her, it always sounded patronizing. They never took into account that she was a doctor and she knew how to treat herself.

“I’m fine,” she said dryly, breaking out of his embrace, his touch suddenly overstimulating. “You don’t need to worry about me. I just needed to get drunk, blow some steam, get some things off my chest. I’ll be as good as new this time tomorrow. No more sulking, back to work!” She forced her face into a smile, but it wasn’t genuine. She turned her back to him and headed for the bed, hoping that he would drop the issue.

“Please,” he said, stopping her from advancing my snaking his arms around her chest and pulling her close, “don’t take it the wrong way. I just think you’d feel better if you’d talk to someone.”

“Yeah, I just did.” She tried escaping this embrace too, but as gentle as it felt, he was immovable. “And I feel better, so thanks for that.”

He was silent for a few moments, as if he was considering what to say. Cora could feel the tension in both of them, her own breathing resounding so loudly in the quiet room.

“I just don’t think self-medicating is the solution,” he eventually said, and Cora turned her head to look at him with a frown on her face.

“You know what, I really don’t feel like taking health advice from someone who slaps a bacta patch on a blaster wound and calls it a day,” she said, harshly.

Cassian dropped his arms and took a step back, and Cora felt out of balance without his warm chest pressed against her. It felt cold in more than one way. “I just thought you’d be more sensible than me,” he said, coldly, putting on a pair of boxers and climbing in bed.

Cora sighed and quickly followed, slipping into bed next to him before he got the chance to turn his back to her. She hated arguing with Cassian, but no matter how hard they tried, sometimes they still butted heads. His arm around her back and the kiss on her forehead told her that he wasn’t really mad. And neither was she. But it really pissed her off when people assumed that she wasn’t holding it together. She could handle this by herself, she’d done it for years and was still functional and didn’t like anyone poking their nose into her life and giving her advice. She knew what she had to do, she’d gone to medical school for this.

“Listen,” she said, propping herself onto her elbow, her tone a lot softer than before. “I’m sorry for snapping at you. I know you mean well, but I’m fine, honestly. I don’t want you to worry. I hate it when you worry.”

“What’s wrong with me worrying?” he said, frowning.

“That’s my job!” Cora brushed away a few strands of hair from his forehead.

“Then what would my job be?”

“I’m not sure, but you could start by kissing me.” Cassian’s face relaxed into a smile. He grabbed her waist and pulled Cora on top of him, making her straddle his hips. “Oh, you want me to do all the work? On my day off?” He was starting to get hard once again, she could feel him, but she didn’t mind going for another round.

She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was still so early it could be considered ‘late’, but she wasn’t feeling tired at all. Maybe it was the alcohol still in her veins (she doubted that her body had managed to filter it all so soon) or maybe because she blacked out early in the evening, or the shower, or the sex, but she felt really invigorated. She hated that she wasted a day off drinking her problems away when she could have spent it with Cassian, but there was nothing she could do about that now.

“Do you have to be at work tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled, and for half a second he looked really dejected. Maybe he’d wished they could have spent a whole day together too.

“Can’t you take a day off?” she asked, a little unsure. She knew his work was crucial for the Rebellion, but she didn’t really know what it entailed. “I know a doctor who would give you medical leave if you asked nicely,” she added with a wink.

“You’d do that for me?” he asked, seeming really amused by the thought.

“Of course not,” Cora snorted. “I wouldn’t tarnish my good name giving you fake medical leave. But I know Doctor Crane would.” Cassian laughed and pulled at the hem of the shirt Cora was wearing, prompting her to take it off. “Well, that didn’t stay on long,” she joked, throwing it on the floor.

The way Cassian was looking at her, like he hadn’t seen her stark naked just a little while back, was already making her hot. The smirk in the corner of his lips as his hands went to her hips, caressing her sides was making her belly squirm. She was idly rubbing her crotch against his cock, teasing him, making him grow harder with every roll of her hips.

She leaned down, kissing him lazily. “I missed you,” she whispered against his lips and kissed him harder, not letting him say anything in reply.

He pressed his cock against her crotch, eliciting a gasp from Cora. She tangled her hands into his hair, deepening the kiss as he pulled her closer, her breasts pressing into his chest. His skin feeling hot against hers. His fingers on her back were gently tracing her scar, the skin still a little more sensitive than the rest, despite the bacta patches she kept putting on it.

She sat up, prompting him to lift his hips enough for her to be able to push his boxers down his hips, revealing his cock. She slowly sunk down on him, moaning as he filled her up, enjoying the familiar feeling of him stretching her out.

It was lazy and almost completely involuntary the way their bodies moved together, but they fit so well. There was no urgency, no pressure. Cora was setting the pace while Cassian was looking at her with heavy lidded eyes, his hands on her thighs. He wasn’t trying to rush her, he just caressed her skin gently.

His touch felt so good. He was caring and gentle, and he seemed to really want to slow down and savor the moment. Cora loved it. She’d been so used to rushed sex in dark, cramped corners, that only now was she learning what it felt like to really enjoy your partner, to take the time to know them. To feel them deeper, on a spiritual level.

Because on the physical level, she was already pretty close to paradise. She didn’t know what exactly about Cassian made her so easily aroused, but she was thankful. She got to experiment intimacy and human closeness to another level. She got to look him in the eye as she came, clutching onto his shoulders for support, trembling slightly from the intensity of it all. Then got to feel him tense and fall apart in her hands once he found his own release.

She collapsed next to him, her nerves on fire. She laid on her back for a few minutes, her arm covering her eyes, enjoying the feeling of lethargy that came after a good orgasm. Cassian was silent next to her, still catching his breath, but the silence was a comfortable one.

However, he was overthinking. She could easily tell, once she turned her head to look at him, by the serious expression on his face and the gaze glued to the ceiling. She snuggled closer to him, trying to figure out what was wrong..

“I know that frown,” she said, bringing her hand to his forehead, trying to gently brush away the crease. “What’s bothering you? Is it top secret work stuff?” she asked, but he didn’t reply right away. Moments like these happened on occasion and although Cora would ask, she’d usually get a vague answer.

“I was just thinking about what you told me last night.” He was still looking at the ceiling and Cora sighed. “Do you remember everything you said?”

The jerk knee reaction was to avoid talking about this altogether, but she realized that he deserved more than silence after she subjected him to her drunken confessions. “I think so? I think I blacked out at the end, but everything until that point is still somewhat clear.”

“Do you remember asking me if I’d have to report back on this?” he asked, tilting his head just enough to be able to glance at her. Cora’s heart skipped a bit. Yeah, she remembered that very well.

“I do,” she said, taking a deep breath. “I know I put you in a difficult position,” she forced the words out of her mouth, “and I’m sorry. I should have kept my mouth shut.”

“No,” he said, full of determination. “You needed someone to talk to and it’s my job as a… it’s part of my job to listen.”

“Reporting back is also part of your job,” she said trying hard not to sound dejected. “You shouldn’t have to be put in the position to choose between me and the Rebellion.”

“What?” He propped himself onto an elbow to look at her. “Who said I had to choose between anything?”

Ok, she realized she was being a little overdramatic, but it kinda felt like that. She knew what withholding information could do to someone in the military and considering how much Draven hated her, siding with her might very well end Cassian’s career.

“I don’t have to choose between anything,” he continued, but the apologetic expression on his face made her heart sink. “But I will have to ask if you’d be willing to let me report on some of the things you said yesterday.” The moral battle Cassian was fighting was written all over his face, and Cora hated that she was the cause for it.

“Yeah,” she replied, and felt surprisingly relieved by it. As time passed she’d gotten more involved in the Rebellion and she’d started to feel the pressure of the things she knew and didn’t divulge. She wasn’t sure she had any information they might consider useful, but she still felt like she wasn’t being totally honest. “As long as you leave out the… circumstances in which you got the information.”

“Of course.”

“What do you think is of interest?” She doubted Draven had use for any details regarding her childhood trauma or Admiral Enoch’s bad parenting.

“Anything you might know about Krennic. And Galen Erso.”

Hearing Krennic’s name brought out a new wave of anger, but she had no objection in telling him everything she knew. She’d be very happy if anything she told them could eventually contribute to his demise. The bastard deserved it.

“I don’t know much about Krennic,” she said. “He worked, well, still works with my father I suppose, but I wouldn’t call them friends. I think they were somewhat closer when my mom was alive, I think, or I might have seen him often because I was living on Corinthia, but as I grew up we’d only really meet at formal events. I wish I could tell you more, but I don’t really know much.”

“It’s alright,” he said with a long, heavy kiss on her temple, that made her feel a little better. “What can you tell me about the report on your mother’s death? The project she was working on?”

That sent an unpleasant shiver down her spine and she pressed herself closer to his chest. His voice had the same sharp tone he used for interrogations such a long time ago, but Cora dismissed it as job conditioning. Somehow it sounded weird, considering that they were both naked and they’d just had sex. But now that she thought about it, he would have had a better chance of loosening her tongue when she was imprisoned if he would have thoroughly fucked her before getting to the questioning.

“Hmmm… I’m not sure I have much valuable information about that. I was more interested in what it said about my mom, didn’t care as much about the technical details. But I could try and write down for you everything I remember? My mind is really hazy right now.”

“Don’t worry about it now,” he said. “We can talk about it another time, okay? You’d better try to get some sleep. It’s still early.”

“I’m not tired,” she said, looking at the clock and scrunching her nose. “Yeah, we’ll talk another time,” she said, resting her head on his chest and yawning, despite her previous statement. “I’ll tell you everything you want to know,” she continued, “but I don’t want Draven interrogating me. I don’t like him, he doesn’t like me, and it would just end up in a fight. I’d rather you ask the questions.”

“Of course,” he said, and she could feel his arm around her shoulders tense a little. “I wouldn't let Draven be shit to you anyway. I’m sorry for ever letting him do that to you. But things have changed since then.”

“Yes, a lot of thing have changed,” she agreed. They they weren’t enemies for one, and they weren’t strangers either. She felt like she’d grown a lot since she’d met him, and she was really thankful that he’d barged into her life and changed it completely.

While in the beginning the only thing Cora wanted was to save her skin, gradually she’d gotten more and more invested in the Alliance’s cause. And it wasn’t just because she was in love with Cassian or for her friends’ sake, or because she felt guilty for her and her family’s contribution in this war; no, she was doing it because she knew this was the right thing to do. She wasn’t trying to run anymore, not from herself, not from her father or the Empire.

She knew that Cassian had played a huge role in this. It wasn’t just her love for him, but he inspired her to be better, to fight for what she believed in and to help the ones she cared about. He was the main reason she’d stayed on base even when it had gotten hard and the only thing she’d wanted to do was to give up and run. He’d been her pillar. Somehow, her love for him had made her braver.

“I know this isn’t an excuse,” he said, and Cora could feel the uncertainty in his voice, “I know I shouldn’t have acted the way I did anyway, but It feels even worse now that we’re… here.” He pulled her a little closer, and Cora hugged his chest. “I wouldn’t have done that if I’d ever thought… But I never dreamed that we’d end up… here.”

“You mean, in your bed?” Cora asked with a cheeky grin on her face, tilting her head to look at him.

“Well, yeah,” he said with a breathy laugh.

“What? You didn’t think we’d end up dating?” she said and her heart skipped a beat, so she tried hiding her nervousness behind a joke. “You didn’t like my flirting style? Insults work every time.” Cassian laughed, his chest vibrating under her fingers.

“No,” he said, brushing a stand of hair from her face, his eyes a bit melancholic. “I didn’t think we’d end up dating.” She didn’t remember ever hearing him talk about dating before, and it both excited and scared her. Maybe things had really changed. And maybe it was time they both acknowledged it. “I’d hoped… not at first, but as time passed, I’d hoped we could...maybe.” He laughed, passing a hand over his eyes. “Never thought it would actually happen.”

Cora shifted so that now she was laying on his chest, looking directly at him. “Why not?” she asked, genuinely surprised. She hadn't known if he liked her for some time, but she was pretty sure that she’d been pretty damn obvious about it.

“I don’t know,” he said, brushing his thumb over her cheek. “I guess I’ve just thought I’d always be alone.”

“Well, you’re not alone now,” she said, smiling, kissing his chest above his heart.

“No, I’m not.” He smiled back, tangling his fingers into her hair, holding her close, his arms tightening around her in a protective gesture.

He seemed a bit lost in thought for a while, so Cora settled back into his embrace. It was uncommon for him to talk about himself and what he felt, especially when it involved relationships. But he’d also brought her to his quarters, and even though she could argue that it was just for the sake of convenience, it was still a step forward. He’d slowly, but progressively opened up to her as time passed.

“About this...” he eventually broke the silence, but didn’t finish the idea.

“About what?” she asked, lifting her head to look him in the eye. He seemed a little flustered, but Cora blamed it on the poor light playing tricks on her perception.

“About us?”

A shiver ran down Cora’s spine and she couldn’t really tell if it was a good or a bad feeling. “What about us?”

“Have you thought where this is going?”

She shrugged. “Not really. Forward I suppose?” She had no idea what prompted this whole conversation about their relationship and it was so out of the blue that it scared her a little. Usually these things ended up in a breakup—or at least that’s what she assumed—but there hadn’t been any signs that he might have been thinking about a breakup. She was a little confused. “Are you trying to ask me if I thought about our future?” she pressed, seeing as he didn't seem willing to share what he was thinking.

“Yeah.” He let out a relieved breath. “Do you ever think about our future?”

“Yeah. Sometimes.” She shrugged. “The future in general doesn't look very bright, but I don't know, you give me hope that there might be light at the end of the tunnel after all. Does that sound sappy?” she asked with a smile, and Cassian pressed a kiss on her forehead.

“No, it's not sappy. I think…” A insistent knock knock the door made him forget what he was saying. “Wait here,” he told her, climbing out of bed and putting on a pair of boxers and a shirt.

Cora sat up on the bed, wrapping herself in a sheet and trying to stay as far away from the door as possible. She watched him open it, the light pouring in from the hallway almost blinding. She couldn’t hear what they were talking, but the hushed conversation had a note of urgency that made Cora’s stomach contract painfully.

When he came back, he didn’t return to the bed, instead taking out some clothes from the closet and starting to get dressed. It seemed this was the abrupt end to their peaceful night spent together. Cora sighed, but she was resigned. This was his job, after all.

“That doctor’s note won’t do much good now, would it?” she asked, hopping off the bed and hugging Cassian from behind.

He stopped what he was doing and looked at her over his shoulder. “No, I have to go.” His voice was serious and a little sad.

“Did anything bad happen?”

“I don’t know,” he said, looking down and fidgeting with the buckle of the trousers he was holding in his hand. “I just have to go check something.”

Cora knew she wasn’t going to get more information than that, so she didn’t push it. But she couldn’t deny the sinking feeling that something terrible was about to happen. “I have a bad feeling about this,” she said, resting her forehead on his shoulder.

“Hey,” he said, turning around and holding her in his arms. “Nothing bad’s gonna happen. It’s just a routine mission,” he tried reassuring her, but she knew he was lying—none of his missions were ‘routine’. She smiled nonetheless. “I’ll cook for you when I come back,” he promised, tilting her head so he could kiss her.

“You better!” she said, stealing a couple more kisses. She was going to miss him, like she did every time he was away.

“You should stay here today, get some sleep,” he said, breaking the embrace to scribble a four-digit number on a piece of paper. “This is the access code, in case you wanna go in and out.”

Cora took the slip of paper and stared at it. “What if I make a mess in your absence?” she joked, trying to break the tension, but her voice sounded sad, even to her own ears.

“It needs some cleaning anyway,” he chuckled and went back to dress himself.

She watched in silence as he hurriedly got dressed, holding the sheet close to her body. Her heart ached thinking that in only a few minutes he’d be gone and only the gods could know what he was going to get himself into. She wanted to hug him tight, kiss him until her lips hurt, and tell him she loved him; ask him not to go, to stay a little longer. But she knew that wasn’t possible. So instead he kissed him lightly, taking a good look at him.

“Take care,” she whispered, his hands heavy on her hips as he held her to his chest, the jacket of his uniform feeling rough under her fingers. “Come back safe. I’ll be waiting for you.”

There was a determined look on his face as he nodded and kissed her one last time, before saying goodbye and taking his leave. The blast doors closed behind him, and Cora was left standing in the middle of his room, clutching a piece of paper in her hand.

She considered getting dressed and leaving his quarters right away, hoping there would be less people to witness her walk of shame in Cassian’s clothes, but then decided that she’d rather follow Cassian’s advice and get some sleep. After all, nobody really seemed to care about what her and Cassian were doing, because although she’d been scared of rumours being spread, no one seemed to be talking. Or at least, they seemed to be able to hide it from her, which was the only thing she asked for.

She yawned, stretched her aching muscles, and crawled back into the bed that still held some of Cassian’s warmth and fell asleep almost instantly. She woke up a few hours later, with a hangover.

Not the mother of all hangovers, no, but her stomach still did a double flip when she climbed out of Cassian’s bed. The clock on the nightstand showed that it was almost noon. She only slept that long after a night shift, but if she thought about it, the fatigue level was comparable. She lazily went to the bathroom and then got dressed. What would happen if someone knocked on Cassian’s door, she wondered, only to find her half dressed in his clothes, in the middle of his room.

Right now almost everyone must have been crowded in the mess hall, leaving the hallways deserted, so it might be the best time to leave unseen. Alternatively, she could spend the whole day napping and rummaging through Cassian’s things and leave at night, but her stomach was rumbling and even though right now it was just disgruntled from the excess of alcohol, she knew that at some point she’d have to eat.

She opened the door and was hit in the face by the light coming from the hallway. Her eyes started seeing stars and she could sense the imminent onset of a headache. She groaned and almost went back inside, but instead let the doors close behind her and headed for the med bay.

She looked at her reflection in the glass doors: she was a mess. She looked like a ghost, and a very unhealthy one, with dark circles under her eyes, dry skin and lifeless hair. But what else could she expect after drinking so much? She liked the clothes though. They didn’t fit her properly, after all Cassian wasn’t the same size as her, but he still managed to find something that she could wear out in public for whatever long it took her to go down a few levels. She didn’t even mind the laundry bags she was carrying—the least she could do to pay him back was to drop them at the washer’s.

She sneaked into the med bay hoping no one would see her raid the medicine cabinet. Not that she was doing anything illegal, but she really didn’t want to give any explanations, especially to Aidan, who was covering her shift for the day. Luckily, there didn’t seem to be anyone in sight.

“Party hard last night?” she heard Dr. Crane’s voice from behind her, and her heard almost broke out of her chest. How could these people walk so silently?

“It wasn’t a party, but it was definitely hard,” she groaned, picking a tonic and some painkillers from the cabinet. This was going to make her feel better, she hoped. Only after Dr. Crane started snickering did she realize what she’d said. “The drinking I mean,” she laughed, embarrassed.

“Of course, of course,” the doctor laughed. “I like your style this morning,” he said, and Cora could feel her cheeks starting to burn. “Cassian’s uniform suits you.”

“Well,” she mumbled, closing the cabinet and getting ready to leave the galaxy, “accidents happened.” She lifted the laundry bags, but she had no idea what he got from that, nor did she care, she just wanted to be back in her room, away from people, nursing her hangover. “I’ll be off, then,” she said with a goofy smile, heading for the door.

“Make sure to eat something,” he yelled after her, but Cora just waved goodbye, before nearly colliding with Aidan who seemed to be returning from lunch.

“Morning,” she said on a high pitched tone. It really wasn’t the best day to keep bumping into people, but it was her fault for trying to sneak into dangerous places.

“Morning? It’s noon,” he laughed, but she could feel him eyeing her suspiciously.

“I have no excuse,” she shrugged and hurried out of there, before he could ask her about her disheveled state.

She almost ran back to her quarters, but luckily didn’t bump into anyone else on the way to the underground level. The adrenaline seemed to boost the hangover symptoms, so she drank the tonic and a painkiller, hoping for the best.

She changed into her own clothes after taking a quick shower, planning to spend the rest of the day until dinner huddled in blankets, reading something on her datapad, when she heard a knock on her door. She groaned, hoping it wasn’t an emergency, because drinking the night before had really taken a toll on her.

“Good afternoon, Doctor Enoch,” one of the soldiers greeted her. The serious look on his face sent a shiver down her spine. “Senator Mothma has requested your presence in the war room.”

“Is it an emergency?” Cora asked, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end. She wondered if she should change into her medical uniform.

“I don’t know,” he replied with a shrug. “I haven’t been told anything. But it seemed a bit urgent.”

“Alright,” she said, and stepped out of her room, the blast doors closing behind her. “Lead the way.”

She kept biting her lip on the way up, anxiety growing with every step she took. The feeling that something bad was about to happen was once again overwhelming, and Cora had to make a superhuman effort to keep a straight face.

The war room was full of people, but none of them paid any attention to her walking in. Last time she’d walked in there was a group of people waiting for her to be interrogated. This time their eyes were glued to different screens and no one stopped what they were doing, not even to say hello. She felt a shiver run down her spine.

“Doctor Enoch,” Mon Mothma said, coming into her line of sight followed closely by Draven. “We’re sorry to have demanded your presence on your day off, but we’ve been told that you might have some information on Galen Erso.”

---

Masterlist in bio

[ofstarsandvibranium]

I like Cassian Andor because he looks like he needs a big hug and I would give him a big hug and much more stuff if he asked tbh 👀 but nah he really did it for me in Rogue One. With his whole “rebellions are built on hope” you know he meant that shit. Also, his best friend is a droid basically and one of the best, sassy droids.

Anyone who has a droid as a best friend deserves a hug 👀👀👀 for example....