#as a shadow

[washiinmachiine]

has this been done

[quarantineddreamer]

As a Shadow | Chapter 5 - Beautiful contrasts

Reposting 🥲 Let’s try this again since tumblr hated my tags the first time apparently.

Sorry about that cliffhanger last time, hope this makes up for it (😬😱). I cannot wait to hear your thoughts!! 💙 (Click title for AO3, or read below --please mind the tags on this one. Reblogs, comments, etc. eternally appreciated!)

There is a perfect moment where nothing else exists. All she knows is the tangle of her fingers in his hair, his hands pressing into her back, the movement of his mouth in response to her own, and the fierce burn of the kyber-crystal that rests between them. The hammering of their hearts becomes a chorus that drowns out everything around them until they are submerged completely in one another and the rest of the galaxy has melted away.

Then a pounding on the door startles both of them. “Is this bunk taken?” the muffled voice of a stranger calls.

“Yes!” Cassian shouts instantly, and Jyn gives a soft laugh at his breathlessness.

He shakes his head. “We have terrible timing,” he murmurs.

There is an awkward beat as Jyn sees his eyes flicker over her face, over what, to him, is empty space, searching for her. She moves his hand from where it rests on her hip and guides it up her shoulder and lightly over her face. When he’s reoriented, Cassian closes his eyes and leans forward to rest his forehead against her own with a small sigh.

Jyn takes his hand from off her knee and gives it a gentle squeeze. “I know…” The reality of their circumstances has returned all too soon. What has just happened is incredible, unbelievable really. It’s a gift that might never have been granted before in the entire history of the universe, yet it is still not enough.

He clasps the back of her head, lightly holding her in place against him. “I wish I could see you,” he says quietly.

“I do too,” Jyn agrees with a slight touch of guilt. She knows she’s getting the better end of this deal–the whole ‘dead’ thing aside–because at least she can see him.

“And I wish I could hear your voice…”

That too…

Cassian tilts his head to press another soft kiss to her lips, but as soon as he’s pulled away he’s back again and this time Jyn shifts forward so that her knees are on either side of his hips, pinning him beneath her, their torsos molded together.

Again, the world disappears, as her hands wander over his shoulders and his down her spine. For Jyn, it is impossible to remember the truth of her half-existence. How can she possibly recall a thing as trivial as death when Cassian’s pull is like gravity, bringing her to center? Every part of her comes to life under the heat of his touch, an ember stirred back to flame.

I take back every bad thing I ever said about the Force, Jyn thinks to herself hazily, a shiver passing through her as Cassian’s mouth finds her neck and his beard tickles her skin. If this is what it brought me back for, I should be saying thanks…

Cassian’s hands find one side of her jacket. He is beginning to gently push it off her shoulders when he starts to laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Jyn demands, tapping her hands against his sides.

“You’re wearing clothes.”

“Why wouldn’t I be wearing clothes?!”

“I didn’t realize ghosts wore clothes.” His body shakes as he continues to chuckle at the absurdity of it all.

Jyn gives his shoulders a light shove, but really she is delighting in the sound of his laughter as well as the sight of the lopsided smile on his face, the flush in his cheeks. “You assumed I was wandering around naked this whole time?” she says indignantly, leaning away from him.

“Wait, wait, Jyn.” He wraps his arms around her and pulls her back, that goofy grin still on his face. “I’m not laughing at you. It’s just not anything I’ve ever thought about before. I hadn’t even noticed it, until…”

His hands gently slide under her shirt so that they are against the small of her back, igniting heat where they touch. A heat that spreads through her entire body as he begins to drag his fingers across her skin in slow, enticing circles.

Jyn places her palm under his chin and guides his lips back to hers, wrestling herself free of her jacket and tossing it behind her where it falls silently to the floor.

It feels natural to be held in Cassian’s arms, kissing him. As though their collision was predestined, as inevitable as an eclipse, and she is a dark and solitary moon now encompassed by an inferno of light and warmth.

Her senses are aflame; she breathes in his scent as she runs her lips down his neck, tastes the lingering salt of sweat on his soft skin, feels the tremor that runs through him as she moves across his chest, delights in the low sigh he emits when she teases her fingers through his hair.

“If you’re going to complain about my clothes, I get to complain about yours,” Jyn breathes into his ear, then pointedly begins to play with the collar of the tactical vest he’s wearing.

Cassian willingly rolls the vest (with all its infuriatingly bulky pockets) off his shoulders while Jyn tugs at the hem of his shirt until he’s free of that too. Her eyes catch for a moment on the kyber-crystal that glows against his bare chest, rising and falling with each breath he takes.

‘Hold on,’ she’d told him when she’d placed the kyber in his hands. And he had. The kyber had made it off Scarif, and so had he–which is all she had asked for. But he’s held on to her too. All this time, he’s kept her with him, unwilling to abandon her to dust and shadows.

She’s never had anyone show her such devotion. Never had anyone so steadfast and trustworthy.

But then again, she’s never known someone like him.

She places her palm against his chest and pushes gently until he lies back, his head resting atop the single pillow of the decidedly unglamorous bed. And his hands find her waist, but his eyes are still endlessly searching for her until Jyn softly coaxes his eyelids to close with the tips of her fingers. No more of that…. They’ve found each other, that is enough for now. It has to be. They will take what they can get and run with it, as they have both done throughout the entirety of their lives.

She pulls her shirt over her head, removes her bra, and sends them both to join the growing pile on the floor. Cassian follows her movements with his fingertips, running his hands up her bare sides, palms pressed against her, fingers splayed and lingering over every inch as though he is mapping the surface of her body by feel, committing every detail of her features to memory.

A heartbeat stutters, a hot shiver runs through her, something eager and hungry stirring in her belly when he begins to caress her breasts, his hips reflexively pressing upwards into hers.  

A low man escapes her lips at the feel of his body beneath her, at how hard he’s become from just the contact of their skin against one another. She rolls her hips, his crotch rubbing against her own, and even with the layers of cloth between them, it’s enough to make her bite her lip.

When she continues to grind against him Cassian emits a soft growl and gives her breasts a firm squeeze in response before quickly pulling her down towards him, their lips clashing fervently.

She echoes the rhythm of his breathing, rough and hot against her neck, tickling her ears, bringing heat to her cheeks. He is everywhere, his fingers pressing into her shoulders, his hands dragging down her back till they grasp her ass, pulling her closer and closer still, until she’s lost track of where he begins and she ends.

There’s an electric current rushing through her, a pulse rising to a fervor. Cassian must be experiencing the same, because he leans away, eyes opening as he shakes his head.

“Sorry,” he says in a voice ragged with lust. “Just give me a minute.”

Jyn runs her hands over his torso, fingers teasing over muscles and rib cage, light as feathers.

Cassian shudders and tilts his head back into the pillow, exposing his neck to her. It’s instinct for her to lean over and kiss the hollow of it, to frame his collarbone with her lips and follow the line of it down to the center of his chest where every stunning heartbeat can be felt against her mouth.

“Jyn,” he groans, hips tilting helplessly upwards again.

It’s possible he’s wanted this for longer than she ever realized, and she understands why he’s trying to slow her down, to take a moment to cool off, but she’s never been the most patient of people and she’s not about to start. “It doesn’t matter,” she tells him, slipping her fingers tentatively towards his belt buckle, waiting to see if he’ll tell her to stop. “I want you.” And she doesn’t care how long this time will last, because they’ve never had much of it anyways. Their paths crossed in life in the briefest flash of starlight and was over before it had even begun. If she had known, she wouldn’t have wasted a second of it doing anything less than exactly what they desired.

Cassian sits up to kiss her, cupping the back of her neck with one hand, knotting his fingers in her hair with the other. He parts her lips with his tongue and the taste of his mouth in hers is enough to make her fingers curl with pleasure against his shoulders.

This time it’s him who stands and reaches for his belt. When a moment later he’s finally free of all his layers and standing naked before her all Jyn can do is lean back for a moment, a slanting, pleased smile forming.

He moves towards her, finds her ear and whispers, “Is this what you wanted, Erso?”

She grips his cock in reply and begins slowly stroking up and down. His eyes snap shut, his breath hitches and he sighs in pleasure, muscles dancing as he loses a modicum of composure and leans into her touch. “I think there’s still a bit more I’d ask of you,” she murmurs.

He doesn’t protest when she removes her hand, maybe it’s because even though he can’t see her, some part of him knows she’s stripping the last of her clothes from her body–though she hopes he doesn’t imagine the shaky hands she has to contend with as she does so.

Her foot brushes his leg as she kicks the last layer away. It is Cassian’s turn to guide her back to the mattress, he hovers over her, arms on either side of her head, his outline defined by a halo of light that streams from the ceiling, as though she is casting shadow onto him, drawing out perfect, beautiful contrasts in each of them.

He bends down and captures her lips with his own with a tenderness that makes Jyn’s soul ache. But she hasn’t forgotten her greater goal, if anything her want has shifted to need, and she’s sure that if she’s forced to wait any longer to have him inside her she’s going to implode.

She reaches down in the space between them until she finds the hard length of him, warm and delightfully stiff in her palm, then urges him down towards her opening, long since gone slick with desire. When he finally pushes into her Jyn tightens, her back arching, and they both gasp.

“Cassian,” she breathes, barely able to form his name as euphoria flashes through her, electric and hot.

It takes a minute before he starts moving again, but when he does, it’s all she can do to hang on as waves of pleasure envelop her with each thrust.

“ Jyn,” he gasps her name as though he is drowning in it, as though he’s forgotten anything else. He swears in that foreign language she’s heard from him before, and she doesn’t need to know what it means to tell he’s enjoying himself just as much as she is.

She shuts her eyes and begins to drift in the sensation emanating from her core, building with each passing second. She scratches at the muscles of his back, holding fast to the solid feel of his body under her touch and he buries himself inside her with more urgency.

Cassian’s breath begins to break, his muscles contracting and she can tell he’s barely able to hold back.

She doesn’t want him to either. “Please,” she moans, her own energy reaching a peak just imagining the way he’ll fall apart.

She places her hand against his chest to feel his racing heart and the touch is enough to send him over the edge, crying her name.

Her eyes fly open at the warmth that he spills inside her and his face is one of such intense ecstasy that it sends a bolt of pleasure straight through her. As he rides out the last waves of his orgasm she slips a finger onto her clit, trembling against him as she continues moving her hips against his until she climaxes too, exquisite pulses of elation flooding her entire body in incredible bursts.

Cassian presses his lips to her left cheek, then her right, brushes her nose, and then meets her mouth with his own in a final searing crush before pulling out and collapsing beside her, chest rising and falling rapidly.

Jyn can’t help the breathy laugh she gives. Did that just happen? she wonders.

But her doubts are erased when Cassian’s arm reaches across the bed to find her waist; when he rolls to his side and pulls her close against his chest, his nose buried in the crook of her neck, his beard brushing her skin as he catches his breath. It feels too safe, too substantial, too wonderful to be a dream or a phantom place like Lah’mu.

Cassian’s arms tighten around her. “Don’t,” his voice breaks on the word as he swallows back the hue of pain that threatens to bleed into his tone. “Don’t go anywhere, okay?” he whispers to her softly, some trace of his fear still remaining despite his efforts to hide it.

The kyber necklace is pressed between them, nestled in the crook between her shoulder blades and his chest, warm and reassuring as ever, a reminder of all that has passed and of all that may come.  

Jyn buries herself deeper into Cassian’s embrace. “I won’t…”

[quarantineddreamer]

As a Shadow | Chapter 2 - (Not) alone

Here goes nothing ahhhh -Chapter 2! (Click title for AO3, or read below)

Chirrut is in a wheelchair that Baze pushes and leans on in equal terms. Both have cuts and bruises littered across their bodies and Jyn can tell they are in no small amount of pain, but they still give gentle smiles when they arrive at Cassian’s bedside.

Even though she doesn’t need to, Jyn gets up from her chair so that Baze can use it. As he collapses into his seat their arms brush, but it is clear he does not register her touch–and just another thing she cannot feel.

Cassian’s injured back will not allow him to roll onto his side, but Jyn can tell he’s desperate to turn away from their friends from the moment they arrive. He does everything he can to avoid their eyes, his mask back in place, an extra sullen quality added to it.

“She saved your life, you know,” Baze says quietly.

Cassian’s lips press into a fine line. He’s glaring daggers at the ceiling and it’s clear he doesn’t want to hear any of this.  

“You think you’re unhappy to be here? Try being invisible to everyone,” Jyn grumbles.

Baze gives a heavy sigh. “Melshi said you might be like this.”

“She shouldn’t have done it,” Cassian replies by way of explanation.

Jyn wants to shake him. “Stop that. What I did was not a mistake. I was the reason you were there in the first place– you really thought I’d let you die because of me? Is that the kind of person you think I am?”  

Chirrut makes a disappointed, humming sound. “I don’t think she would agree with that.”

“Thank you!”

Cassian gives a bitter laugh. “Of course not, she never agreed with anything I said.”

“You liked that about her,” Baze comments.

“I did,” Cassian admits quietly and for a moment there is silence between them. “She had a way of getting under your skin, didn’t she?”

“She did,” Baze agrees.

“She should be here,” Cassian says, soft and fierce, with eyes that Jyn fears are close to shedding tears.    

“She is one with the Force, and the Force is with all of us, so she is here,” Chirrut says matter of factly.

“Sure. Something like that,” Jyn mutters. And it’s not that he’s wrong, but she does wonder what Chirrut would think of her current situation, if he would be so keen to trust in the mysteries of the Force if he knew the kind of anguish it was putting her through.

She tries to read Cassian’s face, to determine if he is finding any comfort in the monk’s word, and though his expression remains impassive, she senses that he is about as satisfied with the notion as she is.

Chirrut tries a new approach, “Baze tells me they emptied your pockets before bringing you into surgery and that they found something of hers?”

Cassian tenses and Jyn gets the feeling he’d by flying out of bed right now if his body would only let him. “Scarif… she shoved something into my pocket on the beach. Where is it? Where’d they put it?” he asks, uncharacteristically frantic.

“Don’t worry,” Baze grunts as he reaches for the drawer of the table at Cassian’s bedside. His hand emerges holding a worn cord, a familiar translucent stone dangling from the end of it. “I made sure they put it in a safe place.”

Baze places the kyber in Cassian’s outstretched palm and something in Jyn seems to anchor there alongside it. My necklace…

He stares at it for a moment, runs gentle fingers over its edges with a tenderness that seems to echo on Jyn’s cheek. When he ties the cord around his neck, the kyber falls into place against his chest.

And Jyn’s body begins to pulse with the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, as though it were her own.

For the next several days, Cassian mostly sleeps, still heavily medicated and his body still very much in need of the extra rest.

Jyn, on the other hand, quickly learns that the phrase ‘I’ll sleep when I’m dead’ is a fallacy. The first few times the lights of the infirmary dim, she goes through the motions of settling in a comfortable position, shutting her eyes, but she can’t even bring herself to pretend she’s tired. Her supply of energy is seemingly endless.

She spends the quiet, lonely hours trying to figure out why she is here; even–for one brief, self-conscious moment–tries talking to the Force, ‘So, uh, my mother said you called?’ But it’s useless. If there’s a message to be found it’s an incredibly cryptic one, either that, or the Force is answering much too quietly.

Occasionally she gets up and wanders, never straying farther than the corners of the room, always gravitating back to Cassian’s side. Normally, she would grow bored of this inside of an hour, but death seems to have granted her more patience, and there are plenty of things to occupy her thoughts, to distract her.

The Captain has a steady stream of visitors that she is eager to see. Bodhi, Melshi, Baze and Chirrut cycle through regularly to check on him. Even Mon Mothma and Draven come to speak with him and provide him with updates on the rebellion’s activities since Scarif.

Jyn is thrilled to hear the Death Star plans made it off Scarif, distraught to learn that they go missing when a Princess Leia is captured. Her heart breaks anew when the news of Alderaan reaches the medical wing–she and Cassian spend the day in still and quiet, and she can’t help but ponder the futility of their mission on Scarif. Had their sacrifice been for nothing after all?

But there is overwhelming relief when the plans find their way back to the Rebellion courtesy of the Alliance’s newest recruits, Luke Skywalker and Han Solo. The day they hear about the attack planned on the Death Star, Cassian fights with the medical staff and all of his friends, cursing in frustration and insisting that he is well enough to fly a ship. ‘It’s not like I need to walk –just wheel me onto Rogue One!’ (Nevermind that he’s still recovering the strength to sit upright unsupported for more than a few minutes at a time.)

It’s a bittersweet sight to witness. Bitter, because he is upset about being bedridden and unable to finish what they started on Scarif. Sweet, because Jyn takes his fierce arguing as an encouraging sign.

It’s the liveliest he’s been in weeks.

He’s not eating much. Whether from all the meds they have him on or because he’s depressed Jyn isn’t sure. There’s a good chance it’s both. He picks at his food with little interest, consuming just enough for the infirmary staff to leave him alone. When Bodhi comes by, it’s mostly Bodhi who does the talking, and it’s the same with the others–though maybe he offers Melshi a few more words than the rest.

Sometimes they try to talk about her. Cassian always shuts it down, finds an excuse, steers the conversation towards anything else–even the loss of Kay is a more tolerable topic . Maybe it would lead anyone else to think he doesn’t care that she’s gone. But she knows better. He avoids any mention of her because he cares too much, and he blames himself.

Alone, he spends time staring at the kyber crystal. There’s a desperation to his gaze that she grows to resent. She wants to tell him to let go; she’s not worth all this pain–he shouldn’t feel responsible, it was her choice what she did, and she’d do it again…

And sometimes she does tell him .

But he never hears.

No matter how badly she wants to, she can’t help him now.

Members of the med-core team begin introducing physical therapy exercises to him as soon as possible, hoping for him to regain more of his mobility with time and practice. This, Cassian seems to pour every ounce of his energy into.

She sees the fire in his eyes as he pushes himself to his limits–and then some.

She doesn’t like this either. It worries her. He’s not doing it out of some eagerness to get better, he is punishing himself–she knows it. And if he is cleared to go back in the field, it won’t be the end of it, only the beginning.

Cassian will turn his guilt into a life-long sentence of pain.

What he doesn’t realize, can’t realize, is that she will suffer the same, serving right beside him in misery.  

During the evacuation of Yavin 4, Cassian is amongst the first rebels to leave–along with the others under medical care.

He is wheeled out of the infirmary and onto a waiting ship, and Jyn follows, her body alight with the new energy she finds herself a part of.

Compared to the sleepy calm of the room Cassian has been residing in, it feels like she has made the jump into hyperspace. So many people, and the open space all around them, and the breeze drifting into the hangar from across the jungle. So much life. She tracks Cassian’s movements more automatically than anything else, because she can barely focus, her attention pulled in a thousand different directions at once.

The feeling diminishes once they board the ship and are contained within its walls, only to transform again when they break atmo and enter the cold expanse of the galaxy.

There, she feels like she is living up to the affectionate name her father once bestowed upon her.

She is stardust, swirling, brilliant, multitudes.

On Hoth, Cassian finally gets permission to leave the full-time care of the med-core team and retire to his own room. He’s still tied to base, performing desk duties until he is cleared for action, but Jyn can tell it is a relief for him to know he will be able to have some solitude–there are days she has caught him pretending to be asleep so that no one will approach him.

Melshi has been holding onto his friend’s few belongings and brings them to Cassian. An entire room’s worth of personal effects are packed neatly into a small duffle. It’s a sight Jyn understands well. Her life had always been one easily moved from place to place. The bag is probably full of clothes, maybe a blaster or two. But she wonders if—hidden amongst the folds of the bag–there might also be a token of the past that he keeps with him, as she once did her mother’s necklace.

She never did get to see Cassian’s room on Yavin 4–if he even had one of his own–and so she finds herself curious to see the type of quarters the man keeps. She pictures something spotless with neatly folded clothes, but her imagination doesn’t stretch much further than that, perhaps because she can’t see Cassian settling in one place for too long any more than she could imagine herself doing so.

They enter the room and he throws his bag onto the floor of the small, poorly lit space as the door hisses shut behind them. Against one wall is a narrow bed, against another there is a simple desk. Cassian stands in the middle, expression as inscrutable as ever.

“It’s not so bad,” Jyn says, leaning her hip against the desk. At least, she’s certainly seen worse. “But you have to promise you won’t spend all your time in the dark moping or I’m going to tell med-core they let you go too soon.” An empty threat, of course, but it feels good to say anyways.

Cassian gingerly sits on the bed–she’s noticed his back still has trouble with movements like that–and sighs heavily, his breath fogging the air in front of him in a way that fascinates her, a startling symbol of just how alive he is .

Fingers tangle in hair that has grown longer during his time in med-core care, as he places his head in his hands, hiding his face from view.

“Is this you moping?” Jyn asks teasingly, the same way she would if he could hear her. “Isn’t that exactly what I just said not to do?”

When a moment later he still hasn’t moved, she lets out a sigh of her own–a habit she cannot seem to let go of despite it being entirely unproductive in her current state. “Cass, why don’t you go for a walk or something? Throw a snowball at Melshi or Bodhi for me.”

In the silence of the empty room his jagged breaths echo against the frigid walls. His shoulders start to tremble.

She realizes it is the first time since the news of her death that he hasn’t been under the concerned stare of a friend or medical staff. And because it’s Cassian, it means he’s waited all this time to grant himself permission to feel.

Even now she can sense he does it reluctantly, fights it, like somehow he doesn’t deserve a moment to be vulnerable, to be human.

He looks so lost…so alone, and Jyn thinks she’s never wanted anything more in the world than to be able to tell him he’s not.

She takes a tentative step closer to him. But it’s not enough to simply be close, and she knows it’s never going to be. Not when what she truly wants is to be with him.

Aware of the impossibility of this desire, she settles for lowering herself to the bed to sit beside him. “I’m sorry, Cassian… I didn’t mean to hurt you like this.” She didn’t think she could hurt anyone like this.

She tries to imagine herself in his position. The guilt she would feel would choke her. And she would miss him. Force, she would miss him–it’s a shock to realize just how much.  

There was no logical explanation for it, but from the moment Cassian Andor had walked into her life she’d felt pulled to him, felt seen by him. (The bitter irony of that notion is not lost on her now). He’d understood her like no one else ever had, and she him. Sometimes that knowing was a pain, like when they’d clashed on Eadu. But there had also been a sense it could become something wonderful if there had been the time. There had been the briefest of glimpses of it, in the elevator on Scarif, a question in his eyes that she’d never gotten the chance to answer before…

It had all been stolen from them. All the endless possibilities that might have been, snuffed out before they could even truly begin to unfold. She supposes she should just be grateful for the time they did have; for the incredible fortune they had in getting to know each other at all, no matter how briefly.

Jyn tentatively moves to rest her head on Cassian’s shoulder, gradually settling her weight against him. His hair tickles her cheek. He smells good, like he has been sitting somewhere green and sunlit, and he is warm, and…

Realization dawns, sharp and sudden–a spark catching on kindling.

He is warm.

Her body thrums with the dizzy rhythm of a racing heart as she slowly reaches up to lightly run one of her fingers along the side of his face, a heady sensation rushing through her–the heart stuttering.

His beard is scratchy. She knows it is.

I can feel him!

Cassian springs to his feet–moving with a speed she has not seen from him since before his injuries on Scarif–and turns to look back at the bed.

“Cassian?” Jyn asks hopefully, fighting to temper her foolish desire to pull him back–though admittedly she’s not even sure she could if she tried.

He’s staring at the bed intently, not fearfully, and she wants to take that as a good sign, but he won’t meet her eyes.

“Still can’t see me, can you?”

He shakes his head roughly and lets loose a long, somewhat unsteady breath. This time the mist that curls from his mouth is not something to wonder at. It is a slap to the face, a stark reminder of the divide between her world and his.

She watches as he begins to unpack his few belongings.

She’s fed up with watching.

For one brief, incredible moment she had done more, been more, and now all she feels is the bitter ache of disappointment threatening to overwhelm her.

She tries her best to fight it, to hold onto the memory of his touch against her skin, to hold onto the way he had looked at her on Scarif even as the world crumbled around them…

[quarantineddreamer]

As a Shadow | Chapter 4 - Like sunlight after rain

Happy Friday, here’s an update! It’s a pretty big one so I really hope you enjoy it! 🤞💙 (Click title for AO3, or read below)

Jyn wakes to find Cassian has shifted in his sleep and rests with his arm draped over her, a warm, comforting weight. Her face is pressed against his neck, a handful of his shirt clutched in her fingers, and with every breath he takes she feels the rise and fall of his chest–his exhales a soft whisper in her ear. Caught up in the beauty of these sensations, she doesn’t notice it at first.

She doesn’t notice that she woke up. That for the first time since before Scarif she has actually slept.  

When she finally becomes aware of this fact, it’s just another mystery to add to the list. A mystery she can’t bring herself to care about when Cassian’s beard is brushing against the top of her head, pulling her focus.

She cautiously pulls away and tilts her head to catch a glimpse of his face.

His expression is serene. She can’t remember the last time she saw him looking so untroubled, and a small smile rises on her lips. She allows herself to reach for the bit of hair that has fallen across his forehead and softly brushes it back.

There is a part of her that can’t help but wonder where they would be right now if they both had survived Scarif. Would she still be here, her limbs tangled with his? She’s never been good at staying put–never really been given the chance to practice–and it shouldn’t be difficult to imagine a world in which she somehow messed it all up between them, but it is, because in every version, no matter how she dreams it, the ending is always the same: they are by each other’s side.

Jyn sighs and slowly, regretfully, extracts herself from Cassian’s embrace so that he won’t be alarmed when he wakes up. The moment they are no longer touching, her body loses most of its weight, becoming everything and nothing all at once, her grasp of the world wandering aimlessly. She remains at his side, as close as she can be without making any contact, already missing the way he brings her back to herself, grounds her and makes her seem whole again.

Cassian stirs and opens his eyes, his gaze passing through her.

“Good morning,” she says quietly. And maybe it is all a foolish one-sided game of pretend, but that won’t stop her from reveling in the sight of his hair, messy from sleep, and the creases on his cheek where the pillowcase has pressed. She will relish the fact that he is next to her, that they have passed through the dark together, whether he knows it or not.

There’s something to his stare that Jyn can’t quite place, possibly the remnants of a dream slowly slipping from his mind, and she resists the urge to wipe the slight wrinkle from his brow with her thumb.

“What are you thinking about?”

The wrinkle gets more severe before Cassian finally tears his eyes away from the wall and rolls out of bed.

He begins to work through some of the stretches med-core showed him for his back, wincing and sighing through the cracks and pops that greet him as he moves. Jyn observes from the bed, but her mind is elsewhere, reflecting on the events on Naboo.

When he was safely in her arms it had been easier to forget her concern and her frustration with him. Now, she begins to wonder what his next move will be. With a war going on there will be plenty of other opportunities for him to hurt himself, and what if the next time she’s not fast enough?

“You have to talk to someone about this Cass,” she tells him. “Today. You can’t continue like this.”

He’s at the door, preparing to leave, but his eyes have wandered back to the bed–probably to make sure he has not left anything for the next rebel that will use the room. His hand moves to clutch the kyber crystal that hangs from his neck. The brief squeeze he gives the stone finds its way to her hand as though to give a flash of reassurance. “Okay,” he sighs quietly to the empty room, flipping off the lights as he leaves.

Jyn follows Cassian as he winds his way through the stark white hallways of the Redemption, the ship humming with activity that is uncharacteristically disorganized. Along the way, she spots many tired rebels and an abundance of droids flitting about from room to room, delivering messages, the impact of the unexpected and urgent evacuation of Echo Base rippling through the Alliance’s ranks. She doesn’t envy the tasks ahead of Mothma and Draven; they will have their hands full regrouping and identifying a new strategy to pursue.

When they arrive at the bridge, Cassian catches the arm of a passing lieutenant.

“Captain Andor, um, hello,” the woman says, a bit surprised.

“Have you seen Chirrut Îmwe?” Cassian fumbles his words almost like he’s hesitant to ask. “He’s uh, he’s new. Part of Rogue One? Wears black and red robes, walks with a staff?”

“Chirrut? Really?” Jyn catches a flash of hope daring to rise in her. She had assumed Cassian was looking for Draven, to give his full mission report and update him on the loss of an informant, but if he’s seeking Chirrut then maybe he’s finally going to confide in a friend, get some help.

The lieutenant directs him to a room that has been set aside as a training hall. When they arrive, it is mostly empty and it only takes a moment for Cassian to spot where Baze and Chirrut are perched in a far corner near the window. Baze lifts a hand in greeting when he sees the man headed towards them.

“We weren’t expecting to see you for awhile,” Baze remarks. “Thought you were out on a mission.”

“The mission ended,” Cassian replies vaguely, instantly dismissing the topic.

Jyn’s optimism wanes somewhat. Guess he’s not here to talk about Naboo after all.

“So…” Chirrut taps his staff against the floor. “What can we do for you, Captain Andor?”

“I-” Cassian’s eyes fall to his feet, the certainty with which he entered the room disintegrating.  

Jyn squints at him curiously, his reticence a surprise to her. In spite of everything that has happened, Cassian normally appears self-assured in his actions.

He pushes his lips into a thin line and rolls his shoulders back, seemingly to bolster his resolve. “I actually came to talk to you, Chirrut. There’s…there’s something I could use your insight on.”

“Of course. How can I help?”

Cassian’s eyes twitch in Baze’s direction. “Would it be alright if we spoke alone?” he asks, giving Baze an apologetic look. “No offense.”

Though Baze seems confused, he does not protest. “I’ll be in the mess hall,” he informs Chirrut, and departs with a brief nod to Cassian and a quick mutter about ‘spies and their secrets’ that only Jyn is close enough to hear.

“Baze could help you with what happened on Naboo too, you know,” she says, though she’s still unsure whether Cassian intends to bring it up at all. “Bodhi, Melshi, any of them would. You don’t have to be ashamed. Everyone just wants you to be okay. They care about you.”

“You are unsettled,” Chirrut states.

Cassian blinks, unnerved by the blind man’s astute observation. “What?”

“I sense your hesitation. Your uncertainty.” Chirrut hits the crate next to the one he is sitting on. “Sit, and trust that your thoughts are safe with me.”

His brow furrows, but Cassian does take a seat, leaning forward so that his elbows rest on his knees and he can stare down at his hands as he fidgets, carefully avoiding Chirrut’s gaze.

Which is ridiculous in Jyn’s opinion, because it’s not as though Chirrut can see his face, and if Cassian had wanted to hide any of whatever he was grappling with from someone then he had made a poor choice confiding in Chirrut of all people. The man was about as perceptive as they came–there had been times before Scarif that Jyn felt certain he was reading her mind.

“I…don’t know where to begin,” Cassian admits quietly.

“I find there are no true beginnings and no true ending, time flows as the Force wills it.”

“The mission on Naboo…” Jyn presses, settling herself atop a storage block where she will be able to observe the conversation between them clearly.

“Scarif…”

Scarif? A sharp pang cuts through her.

“Yes…” Chirrut murmurs, placing his chin against the top of his staff, his lips tilting downward as though pulled by the weight of sorrow.

“Nothing has been the same since.”

“I would be surprised if it was. Wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, but…what I meant to say is I haven’t been the same since.”

“Cassian,” Chirrut says gently. “I will sit here with you for however long you want, but I think it will be easier for both of us to understand what you need if you speak without fear.”

“My life wasn’t worth what she gave,” Cassian says on a quick exhale with a fierceness that makes Jyn’s anger flare.

“We’ve been over this, damn you!” she snaps, hands curling into fists.

“That is not for you to decide,” Chirrut replies firmly.  “And there is nothing you can do to change it now.”

“But I would!” Cassian jumps to his feet and begins to pace. “I would because…” his voice goes quiet again, “I don’t want it…I don’t want any of it. Not without–”

“Without?”

He stops and his eyes wander to the nearby window, their dark surfaces become mirrors reflecting the stars beyond. “Not without her…”

And suddenly Jyn is remembering the elevator, the look on his face, all the possibilities she had allowed herself to dream of in that moment under the violent light of a planet unraveling.

“We were practically strangers,” Cassian murmurs. “And I know how crazy it sounds, but I miss her–all the time.”

“I don’t think it sounds crazy at all.”

Cassian turns back to Chirrut, runs his hands over his face and through his hair. He doesn’t lean so much as fall back against the glass behind him.

Jyn isn’t sure if it’s her imagination or not, but she thinks she notices a tremor run through him and wishes she could squeeze his hand to reassure him, same as he had unknowingly done for her that morning.

“Would it sound crazy if I told you sometimes…sometimes I think…” A shaky breath escapes him. “I swear, sometimes I think she’s still here.”

“I told you I would be…”

Chirrut gives Cassian a fond, yet sad smile. “She is one with the Force now so–”

But Cassian cuts him off. “No, you don’t understand, I saw her. In the infirmary. And even after that, I felt like she was with me, everywhere I went. Like she was trying to look out for me. I even thought…there were times I thought I could feel her, like I did on Scarif, like she was here, really here. And on Naboo… Chirrut, I was all alone, but I swear, someone saved me when I–.”

He doesn’t finish his sentence, but the memory replays in her mind against her will. That awful moment when she realized what was going to happen to him if she didn’t do anything. The moment she’d been left with no other choice but to risk damage to his mind in order to save his life.

Cassian raises his eyes to Chirrut, trying to read his reaction, but the warrior monk’s expression remains carefully blank, the slight tilt of his head revealing only that he is deep in tho ught. “I know I shouldn’t have done what I did, but for a moment I just… I remembered waking up after Scarif and seeing her, hearing her. Nothing has felt right since.”

Jyn catches the glimmer of tears as they silently begin streaming down Cassian’s face. “I think I’m losing my mind,” he says in a strangled, despairing voice.

It’s the last thing she would have ever wanted, him in this kind of pain, with this kind of doubt and fear. The sight tears into her, shredding at the fabric of her being with merciless claws. “See?” she says wanting to sound resentful, instead sounding just as broken as Cassian. And she knows the Force doesn’t have ears, but she still needs it to be known, “I’m no good here. You never should have brought me back.”

Chirrut slowly rises and finds his way to Cassian, places a hand on his shoulder. “They say for some that the Force can call upon visitors from the afterlife. The Jedi have written of it.”

“I’m no Jedi,” Cassian breathes, running his sleeve roughly across his face.

“The accounts I have heard detail glowing, blue figures that could move and speak as they did in life.”

Cassian shakes his head helplessly. “That’s not what’s happening to me.”

“Your case would seem to be different, but Cassian,” Chirrut squeezes his shoulder, “that does not have to mean you have lost your sanity. The bond you and Jyn shared was brief, yes, but powerful. I would not be so quick to dismiss what you are experiencing as delusion. The Force is vast and capable of more than we will ever know, perhaps it is trying to show you something.”

It’s difficult for Jyn to tell whether Cassian finds comfort or terror in Chirrut’s words. There is a tension to the air like thunder and a rush of frantic energy pulsing through her.

“What should I do?” Cassian asks.

“That is for you to decide. But my friend, whatever the reality of your circumstances may be, know that what Jyn did, what she sacrificed, was not done without great feeling and thought. It is okay to grieve her loss–as we all do–but she would not want you to suffer alone and in silence.” Chirrut turns his face in Cassian’s direction with a serious, intent expression that tells Jyn the brief mention of trouble on Naboo has not escaped his attention. “However you may feel about what happened, whether you agree with her actions or not, it does not matter. She would be very upset with you if you were to render her sacrifice ineffective now.”

Jyn knows Chirrut won’t feel it, but she is so grateful for his words that she gives him a somewhat awkward, heartfelt hug anyways.

“Thank you, Chirrut,” Cassian says softly, with a contemplative expression. “For your help.”

“Not in silence,” the man repeats more sternly, though there is a warmth to his tone too.

Cassian nods in promise. “Not in silence,” he agrees. “I’ll try to talk with someone.”

Cassian’s next stop is with Draven where he gives his report on the Naboo mission. At the news that an informant was turned, Draven’s expression turns grave. He has many follow up questions for Cassian, who answers each one dutifully until Jyn is left doubting Draven’s time management skills--surely the man has other places to be?

Despite all the digging Draven does and all the information Cassian gives in return, she would not call what Cassian gives a ‘full-report’. He provides no details whatsoever on his mental state and near encounter with death.

Which is why Jyn is extremely eager to see where Cassian heads once he is finally free of his commander’s incessant prodding.

“Bodhi? Melshi?” Someone else I don't know about? She is a swirling, distracted mass full of intruding anxious thoughts, but t he nerves shift instantly to frustration when Cassian walks back to his room from the night before, sees that it is empty, and locks himself away inside.

“Cassian, really?” Jyn huffs, exasperated. “When you said you’d try talking to someone I was hoping you’d mean sometime soon, like, I don’t know, before a nap?”

Who knows when Draven will call upon him again? There is a war going on after all–one whose tides have shifted yet again with the loss of Echo Base. And if Cassian doesn’t talk to someone before then, what will happen on the next mission? There cannot be a repeat of Naboo. The notion fills Jyn with a dread so deep it drags her to the floor where her energy settles amongst faint traces of dust and grime.

The scene is one she’s watched play out what feels like a thousand times since Scarif and Lah’mu. Cassian, sitting there alone and in silence, while she watches and waits, and hopes for him to return to himself.

Despondent, Jyn moves to sit on the bed beside him–as close as she dares, mindful to keep space–and tucks her knees to her chest as she is swallowed by the now awfully familiar feelings of failure and uselessness.

Except, the moment does not follow the same pattern as all the others before it.

Cassian clears his throat—the sound so unexpected it jolts her.

He does it hesitantly, almost cautiously, as though he were half-hoping it would not work. But it does, and his voice, though wavering and soft, is clear when he calls out to the empty room, “Jyn?”

She stiffens, her arms tightening around her legs. Part of her worries again about his sanity, but something feels different. His heartbeat is steady and he no longer seems frightened, more accepting, curious. For the first time, he is the one reaching out to her.

Cassian throws his hands through his hair for the second time that day and mutters something to himself in a language she cannot identify or understand. The words have the inflection of cursing. “This is so stupid,” he groans, a slight crack in his voice. “I’m being ridiculous.”

“Please, Cass?” she murmurs, shifting so that she is perched on bent knees facing him. “I would think it’s ridiculous too, but…” keep going, please… She wants to hear him say her name to her again. She’s never realized before how much that could mean, to be acknowledged and known and spoken to. How such a small, simple act could fill you with light and give you a glimpse into another’s heart.

There’s a flush to his cheeks that is just visible above his dark facial hair, hinting at his self-consciousness. He glances around the room as though to make sure his embarrassment is only his to witness. When he swallows and shakes his head, she is convinced that he has given up, disappointment flashing through her like ice.

Then he looks up, and the warmth of his voice fills the room again, growing in certainty with each word. “Jyn, I… I have so many things I want to say to you. So many things I never got to say to you. We knew how dangerous Scarif was going to be and even if we hadn’t known each other all that long yet, I should have told you how incredible I think you are when I had the chance. I thought it from the moment I saw you, sitting in the briefing room in cuffs. You didn’t seem scared at all . You were defiant and powerful, and, well, okay,” he laughs to himself. “I liked seeing how you talked to Draven, like you had all the cards–even though you were backed into a corner with no way out.”

“Okay, corner or not, we both know I could beat the shit out of Draven any day if I wanted to,” Jyn scoffs, but it hasn’t escaped her notice that Cassian just called her incredible… incredible.

“And then on Jedha, when you saved that little girl? When you saved me,” he gives a crooked smile. “I’d never seen someone take down stormtroopers like that. It was…You’d probably make fun of me for saying this, but I thought it was beautiful.”

She’s not sure what to find funny. If she had blood, she’d be blushing, badly. As it is, her nose wrinkles in response to his description.

“I thought that a lot,” Cassian continues, his voice softening. “Beautiful. But I couldn’t say it to you after Eadu, not with how you looked at me. Not after how I betrayed your trust. And then by the time I thought maybe I’d earned your forgiveness, that I might be able to get away with saying it without you wanting to kill me for it, we were on our way to Scarif…    

“But I guess before any of that, I owe you an apology,” he breathes. “I’m sorry, Jyn. I’m sorry for Naboo, I really am. I’m not trying to make a mockery of what you did for me on Scarif, but…” There are tears tracing his cheeks now, flashing silver as they catch the light and Jyn feels the ghost of them on her own face, tingling. “I got to hold you in my arms once. Once. And then you were gone.

“That’s not how it was supposed to go. On the beach, it was decided, we were supposed to stay with each other until the end. I wasn’t supposed to have to…” Cassian draws a shuddering breath. “I wasn’t supposed to have to face losing you… I wasn’t supposed to be here. Not without you.

“You know I would’ve done the same thing for you though. And I know I need to figure out how to move forward, because you’d be disappointed in me if I didn’t, the same as I would with you if it were me, but… I don’t know how, because you’re the only one I want to talk to about any of this. You’re the only one who I know would understand. I miss you, Jyn. I want you here, with me.” He gives a choked, incredulous laugh. “Apparently badly enough that I’m imagining things and talking to thin air…”

In the silence that follows, Cassian sits perfectly still, as though in anticipation of a response.

She imagines she can hear the nervous humming of his heart. That she can feel her own singing a reply.

And Jyn Erso, who has always moved by instinct–has always pushed forward regardless of if she knew the next step–finds herself suddenly unsure what to do. Stunned by the intense, dreamy sensation that is flooding her body like sunlight after rain, casting a vibrant and blinding radiance over everything it touches.

She’s never been able to read his face with such perfect clarity. It is only easy to do so now–to identify the yearning in his gaze as he searches the room–because she knows. She knows that what she sensed between them, what she thought she saw in his eyes in the elevator on Scarif, is real. And it is here now, in his words and in each of their trembling heartbeats.    

It is reaching for her and even the shadowy veil of death is helpless to stop it.

Even if it would be the wiser action to take, she cannot turn away. Not now.  

Jyn edges towards Cassian until she is close enough that, in another life –a kinder one- he would be feeling the warmth of her breath on his cheek.

She stretches her hands forward to hover over his face, shaking, tentative. Her mind races through possibilities both wonderful and terrible. If I do this there’s no going back…  

Cassian turns, as though he can hear her thoughts and she withdraws her hands before his skin can brush hers. His eyes don’t quite land on hers, his gaze remains unfocused, but for a moment she thinks she can see herself reflected in them, held by the dark warmth of his irises.

Slowly, her palms find either side of his face and press gently against his cheeks.

It’s a wonder to her that he doesn’t startle, but instead leans into her touch as though to assure himself of its existence. “Jyn?” He murmurs her name with a gentle reverence, like it is synonymous with something as delicate and precious as hope.

It is a spark that sets fire to her soul and fuels her courage. She pulls him towards her before it can falter.

She presses her lips to his and what is between them–what they are to each other, what is so powerful it has pulled her from death’s greedy hands–embraces her completely.

Home.

[quarantineddreamer]

*pokes* “Darkly Inspd”. 😏

For you? I will finally post the mood board for this fic (only been sitting on it for a few months....)

[quarantineddreamer]

As a Shadow | Chapter 5 - Beautiful contrasts

Sorry about that cliffhanger last time, hope this makes up for it (😬😱). I cannot wait to hear your thoughts!! 💙 (Click title for AO3, or read below --please mind the tags on this one. Reblogs, comments, etc. eternally appreciated!)

There is a perfect moment where nothing else exists. All she knows is the tangle of her fingers in his hair, his hands pressing into her back, the movement of his mouth in response to her own, and the fierce burn of the kyber-crystal that rests between them. The hammering of their hearts becomes a chorus that drowns out everything around them until they are submerged completely in one another and the rest of the galaxy has melted away.

Then a pounding on the door startles both of them. “Is this bunk taken?” the muffled voice of a stranger calls.

“Yes!” Cassian shouts instantly, and Jyn gives a soft laugh at his breathlessness.

He shakes his head. “We have terrible timing,” he murmurs.

There is an awkward beat as Jyn sees his eyes flicker over her face, over what, to him, is empty space, searching for her. She moves his hand from where it rests on her hip and guides it up her shoulder and lightly over her face. When he’s reoriented, Cassian closes his eyes and leans forward to rest his forehead against her own with a small sigh.

Jyn takes his hand from off her knee and gives it a gentle squeeze. “I know…” The reality of their circumstances has returned all too soon. What has just happened is incredible, unbelievable really. It’s a gift that might never have been granted before in the entire history of the universe, yet it is still not enough.

He clasps the back of her head, lightly holding her in place against him. “I wish I could see you,” he says quietly.

“I do too,” Jyn agrees with a slight touch of guilt. She knows she’s getting the better end of this deal–the whole ‘dead’ thing aside–because at least she can see him.

“And I wish I could hear your voice…”

That too…

Cassian tilts his head to press another soft kiss to her lips, but as soon as he’s pulled away he’s back again and this time Jyn shifts forward so that her knees are on either side of his hips, pinning him beneath her, their torsos molded together.

Again, the world disappears, as her hands wander over his shoulders and his down her spine. For Jyn, it is impossible to remember the truth of her half-existence. How can she possibly recall a thing as trivial as death when Cassian’s pull is like gravity, bringing her to center? Every part of her comes to life under the heat of his touch, an ember stirred back to flame.

I take back every bad thing I ever said about the Force, Jyn thinks to herself hazily, a shiver passing through her as Cassian’s mouth finds her neck and his beard tickles her skin. If this is what it brought me back for, I should be saying thanks…

Cassian’s hands find one side of her jacket. He is beginning to gently push it off her shoulders when he starts to laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Jyn demands, tapping her hands against his sides.

“You’re wearing clothes.”

“Why wouldn’t I be wearing clothes?!”

“I didn’t realize ghosts wore clothes.” His body shakes as he continues to chuckle at the absurdity of it all.

Jyn gives his shoulders a light shove, but really she is delighting in the sound of his laughter as well as the sight of the lopsided smile on his face, the flush in his cheeks. “You assumed I was wandering around naked this whole time?” she says indignantly, leaning away from him.

“Wait, wait, Jyn.” He wraps his arms around her and pulls her back, that goofy grin still on his face. “I’m not laughing at you. It’s just not anything I’ve ever thought about before. I hadn’t even noticed it, until…”

His hands gently slide under her shirt so that they are against the small of her back, igniting heat where they touch. A heat that spreads through her entire body as he begins to drag his fingers across her skin in slow, enticing circles.

Jyn places her palm under his chin and guides his lips back to hers, wrestling herself free of her jacket and tossing it behind her where it falls silently to the floor.

It feels natural to be held in Cassian’s arms, kissing him. As though their collision was predestined, as inevitable as an eclipse, and she is a dark and solitary moon now encompassed by an inferno of light and warmth.

Her senses are aflame; she breathes in his scent as she runs her lips down his neck, tastes the lingering salt of sweat on his soft skin, feels the tremor that runs through him as she moves across his chest, delights in the low sigh he emits when she teases her fingers through his hair.

“If you’re going to complain about my clothes, I get to complain about yours,” Jyn breathes into his ear, then pointedly begins to play with the collar of the tactical vest he’s wearing.

Cassian willingly rolls the vest (with all its infuriatingly bulky pockets) off his shoulders while Jyn tugs at the hem of his shirt until he’s free of that too. Her eyes catch for a moment on the kyber-crystal that glows against his bare chest, rising and falling with each breath he takes.

‘Hold on,’ she’d told him when she’d placed the kyber in his hands. And he had. The kyber had made it off Scarif, and so had he–which is all she had asked for. But he’s held on to her too. All this time, he’s kept her with him, unwilling to abandon her to dust and shadows.

She’s never had anyone show her such devotion. Never had anyone so steadfast and trustworthy.

But then again, she’s never known someone like him.

She places her palm against his chest and pushes gently until he lies back, his head resting atop the single pillow of the decidedly unglamorous bed. And his hands find her waist, but his eyes are still endlessly searching for her until Jyn softly coaxes his eyelids to close with the tips of her fingers. No more of that…. They’ve found each other, that is enough for now. It has to be. They will take what they can get and run with it, as they have both done throughout the entirety of their lives.

She pulls her shirt over her head, removes her bra, and sends them both to join the growing pile on the floor. Cassian follows her movements with his fingertips, running his hands up her bare sides, palms pressed against her, fingers splayed and lingering over every inch as though he is mapping the surface of her body by feel, committing every detail of her features to memory.

A heartbeat stutters, a hot shiver runs through her, something eager and hungry stirring in her belly when he begins to caress her breasts, his hips reflexively pressing upwards into hers.  

A low man escapes her lips at the feel of his body beneath her, at how hard he’s become from just the contact of their skin against one another. She rolls her hips, his crotch rubbing against her own, and even with the layers of cloth between them, it’s enough to make her bite her lip.

When she continues to grind against him Cassian emits a soft growl and gives her breasts a firm squeeze in response before quickly pulling her down towards him, their lips clashing fervently.

She echoes the rhythm of his breathing, rough and hot against her neck, tickling her ears, bringing heat to her cheeks. He is everywhere, his fingers pressing into her shoulders, his hands dragging down her back till they grasp her ass, pulling her closer and closer still, until she’s lost track of where he begins and she ends.

There’s an electric current rushing through her, a pulse rising to a fervor. Cassian must be experiencing the same, because he leans away, eyes opening as he shakes his head.

“Sorry,” he says in a voice ragged with lust. “Just give me a minute.”

Jyn runs her hands over his torso, fingers teasing over muscles and rib cage, light as feathers.

Cassian shudders and tilts his head back into the pillow, exposing his neck to her. It’s instinct for her to lean over and kiss the hollow of it, to frame his collarbone with her lips and follow the line of it down to the center of his chest where every stunning heartbeat can be felt against her mouth.

“Jyn,” he groans, hips tilting helplessly upwards again.

It’s possible he’s wanted this for longer than she ever realized, and she understands why he’s trying to slow her down, to take a moment to cool off, but she’s never been the most patient of people and she’s not about to start. “It doesn’t matter,” she tells him, slipping her fingers tentatively towards his belt buckle, waiting to see if he’ll tell her to stop. “I want you.” And she doesn’t care how long this time will last, because they’ve never had much of it anyways. Their paths crossed in life in the briefest flash of starlight and was over before it had even begun. If she had known, she wouldn’t have wasted a second of it doing anything less than exactly what they desired.

Cassian sits up to kiss her, cupping the back of her neck with one hand, knotting his fingers in her hair with the other. He parts her lips with his tongue and the taste of his mouth in hers is enough to make her fingers curl with pleasure against his shoulders.

This time it’s him who stands and reaches for his belt. When a moment later he’s finally free of all his layers and standing naked before her all Jyn can do is lean back for a moment, a slanting, pleased smile forming.

He moves towards her, finds her ear and whispers, “Is this what you wanted, Erso?”

She grips his cock in reply and begins slowly stroking up and down. His eyes snap shut, his breath hitches and he sighs in pleasure, muscles dancing as he loses a modicum of composure and leans into her touch. “I think there’s still a bit more I’d ask of you,” she murmurs.

He doesn’t protest when she removes her hand, maybe it’s because even though he can’t see her, some part of him knows she’s stripping the last of her clothes from her body–though she hopes he doesn’t imagine the shaky hands she has to contend with as she does so.

Her foot brushes his leg as she kicks the last layer away. It is Cassian’s turn to guide her back to the mattress, he hovers over her, arms on either side of her head, his outline defined by a halo of light that streams from the ceiling, as though she is casting shadow onto him, drawing out perfect, beautiful contrasts in each of them.

He bends down and captures her lips with his own with a tenderness that makes Jyn’s soul ache. But she hasn’t forgotten her greater goal, if anything her want has shifted to need, and she’s sure that if she’s forced to wait any longer to have him inside her she’s going to implode.

She reaches down in the space between them until she finds the hard length of him, warm and delightfully stiff in her palm, then urges him down towards her opening, long since gone slick with desire. When he finally pushes into her Jyn tightens, her back arching, and they both gasp.

“Cassian,” she breathes, barely able to form his name as euphoria flashes through her, electric and hot.

It takes a minute before he starts moving again, but when he does, it’s all she can do to hang on as waves of pleasure envelop her with each thrust.

“ Jyn,” he gasps her name as though he is drowning in it, as though he’s forgotten anything else. He swears in that foreign language she’s heard from him before, and she doesn’t need to know what it means to tell he’s enjoying himself just as much as she is.

She shuts her eyes and begins to drift in the sensation emanating from her core, building with each passing second. She scratches at the muscles of his back, holding fast to the solid feel of his body under her touch and he buries himself inside her with more urgency.

Cassian’s breath begins to break, his muscles contracting and she can tell he’s barely able to hold back.

She doesn’t want him to either. “Please,” she moans, her own energy reaching a peak just imagining the way he’ll fall apart.

She places her hand against his chest to feel his racing heart and the touch is enough to send him over the edge, crying her name.

Her eyes fly open at the warmth that he spills inside her and his face is one of such intense ecstasy that it sends a bolt of pleasure straight through her. As he rides out the last waves of his orgasm she slips a finger onto her clit, trembling against him as she continues moving her hips against his until she climaxes too, exquisite pulses of elation flooding her entire body in incredible bursts.

Cassian presses his lips to her left cheek, then her right, brushes her nose, and then meets her mouth with his own in a final searing crush before pulling out and collapsing beside her, chest rising and falling rapidly.

Jyn can’t help the breathy laugh she gives. Did that just happen? she wonders.

But her doubts are erased when Cassian’s arm reaches across the bed to find her waist; when he rolls to his side and pulls her close against his chest, his nose buried in the crook of her neck, his beard brushing her skin as he catches his breath. It feels too safe, too substantial, too wonderful to be a dream or a phantom place like Lah’mu.

Cassian’s arms tighten around her. “Don’t,” his voice breaks on the word as he swallows back the hue of pain that threatens to bleed into his tone. “Don’t go anywhere, okay?” he whispers to her softly, some trace of his fear still remaining despite his efforts to hide it.

The kyber necklace is pressed between them, nestled in the crook between her shoulder blades and his chest, warm and reassuring as ever, a reminder of all that has passed and of all that may come.  

Jyn buries herself deeper into Cassian’s embrace. “I won’t…”

[quarantineddreamer]

Can I hear about "Darkly Inspd" please?

Thanks for the ask, friend! The idea for this fic came to me after watching Wander Darkly. The actual title for this fic is going to be As a Shadow but I've also been referring to it as my ghost!jyn story. It's been a real challenge to write honestly, very different from anything I have done before! Posting a snippet below 😬 (there's also a moodboard here)

Cassian stirs and opens his eyes, his gaze passing through her. 

“Good morning,” she says quietly. And maybe it is all a one-sided game of pretend, but that won’t stop her from reveling in it. In the sight of his hair, messy from sleep, and the creases on his cheek where the pillowcase pressed. She will relish the fact that he is next to her, that they have passed through the dark together, whether he knows it or not.   

There’s something to his stare that she can’t quite place. Perhaps it is the remnants of a dream slowly slipping from his mind. She longs to wipe the slight wrinkle from his brow with her thumb. 

“What are you thinking about?”