Chaotic writer and artist ♫ 21+ ♫ Trans women are women ♫ Masterlist ♫ Guidelines ♫ General writing tag is #nille writes ♫ One Piece Reader insert blog is @quartermera
Hi! May I please request an angst fem x reader for Cassian where both have strong feelings for one other but they continue to avoid how they really feel because of their responsibilities to the Rebellion. They have small moments that toe the line of friend and something more, but both are ultimately to scared of losing the other, so they hold themselves back from anything more.🙏
Hi Anon! I just posted it :>
As per the last one shot, I wrote an author's note to explain my choices, but I hope you will like it nonetheless! ^^
Fandom: Star Wars
Ship: Cassian Andor x Reader (gender and race neutral)
Word count: 1.4k
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, slight angst
Warnings: blaster wound
Summary: When you get shot during a mission, Cassian takes care of you methodically. Feelings cannot get in the way.
Anon asked: May I please request an angst fem x reader for Cassian where both have strong feelings for one other but they continue to avoid how they really feel because of their responsibilities to the Rebellion.
You clenched your jaw, teeth grinding, muscles aching. Despite your ragged breaths, you tried to steady your heart beat. The white lights fixed into the ceiling of the ship stared back at you as tears threatened to flow. Sweat rolled down your back to meet the cool metal of the hull. Breathe in, hold, out. Yet the ache, the burn remained.
Worrying your lip, you lowered your head to see the extent of the damage delivered by the blaster shot. Your legs were spread out in front of you. A clean circle had been bitten out of the fabric of your pants. Behind them, charred skin peaked out. You sucked in sharply. You had seen worse, but never on yourself. This was different.
You bunched up your sleeves and wiped the sweat off your face. You would need to see clearly for this.
Just as you prepared to drag yourself to a more suitable location, hurried steps resonated against the grated floor.
“How are you?” Cassian asked, immediately crouching next to you.
“Fine,” you replied through gritted teeth.
“Don’t move,” he ordered before taking off again.
You took in a deep breath and started undoing the belt around your middle, continuing with the top of your pants. The wound was midway up your thigh. It could not be treated without improving access to it. Cutting was an option, of course, but that would have ruined an otherwise perfectly fine item of clothing.
Cassian returned with a medpac and laid it down next to you.
“I’m gonna need your help,” you admitted, swallowing.
He nodded, lips tight.
You lifted yourself off the ground, groaning and grimacing, arms trembling. The grated floor pressed its pattern into your palms. Cassian’s hands worked fast pulling the trousers down to your knees. The fabric rubbed over the wound, shooting a spike of pain down your leg, and you had to hold back a scream.
Cassian remained quiet, concentrated. When you lowered yourself back in place, your head lolled back against the hull. The fresh metal was sending a pleasant cooling sensation down your back. You started closing your eyes, but Cassian grabbed your shoulder.
“Stay with me,” he ordered.
And when he saw that you were still awake, he returned to the task at hand. He pulled a pair of gloves out of medpac and put them on. Then, after looking over the wound, he opened a can of bacta salve and generously spread it over the charred skin. You sighed in relief, but could not stop your leg from shaking, your body still running high on adrenaline.
“Can you raise your leg?” Cassian asked, grabbing a roll of bandage.
You did not answer. Your leg would not respond. Instead, you bit your tongue and hooked your fingers behind your knee to pull it closer. It was not much, but Cassian made the space work. Without another word, he wrapped the bandage around your thigh with precise, experienced movements. When he was done, he removed the gloves and looked up to meet your gaze.
“Can you stand?”
You swallowed.
“I think so.”
“Alright, let’s get you somewhere else.”
Cassian Andor was not a man of many words. You had learned that over time. Yet you had never seen him so terse.
He crouched next to you, his arm snaking between you and the wall while yours wrapped around his neck. One hand met your own by his shoulder, the other held securely onto your side.
Cassian nodded. Are you ready?
You nodded back. Yes.
A deep breath and Cassian was pulling you up. You helped as you could, pushing away from the hull and onto your unwounded leg. You started shaking again, the whiplash of the adrenaline peak suddenly draining you. Nevertheless, you clenched your jaw and moved along.
Cassian led you to the cot at the back of the ship. Next to him, you hopped on a single foot. You held onto everything you could on the way there: handles, boxes, counters; anything that was protruding from the walls. Cassian’s breath became laboured as he carried you. You turned to him, but his eyes were pointedly fixed forward, a crease between his brows.
You counted down the steps to the cot.
10 meters.
5 meters.
2 meters.
In front of it, Cassian pulled your arm over his head and helped you sit down. You breathed in deeply.
“Lie down.”
You obliged. The mattress and pillow were stiff, but the relief of any kind of strain on your leg felt like a blessing.
Without a word, Cassian undid your shoes and pulled them off. He grabbed the blanket at the foot of the cot and covered you.
“How are you?” he asked as he tugged the sheet around your shoulders.
You blinked slowly, fighting off sleep.
“Better.”
And with that word came a kind, grateful smile.
“Thank you.”
Cassian nodded but the furrow in his brow had not left his features.
“Get some rest,” he suggested. “I’ll get us home.”
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
When your eyes fluttered open, they were met with the same blinding, white neons. The air smelled of bacta, a clear reminder of your situation.
You reached for the bandage around your leg. Gently, you brushed over the spot where the blaster had hit. You winced. The skin was still tender, painful.
Yawning, your lips cracked. You were parched.
The ghost of a smile crossed your features when you noticed it: a glass of water was waiting on the table beside you, your shoes organized neatly underneath it.
You pulled yourself up right and downed the small glass. Tentatively, you folded your knees. Your body responded normally. Cassian’s first aid had been effective.
You pulled your pants back up before putting your feet on the cold ground. Slowly, you pushed yourself off the bed. The wounded leg was still sore, but you could stand. It was enough for you.
You slipped on your shoes and made your way to the front of the ship. You did not rush, instead paying close attention to each step: Was your thigh still aching? How much? Where? Was it getting worse? You knew how valuable such information could be to a professional medic, would any ever auscultate your thigh.
Cassian was sitting in the pilot's seat. He looked over his shoulder as you approached.
“How are you feeling?”
“Better,” you reassured him, “I can walk now.”
“I see,” he agreed, the hint of a smile crossing his lips.
You swallowed, leaving you in a moment of silence.
It was your duty to report back to Luthen after missions — not just successes, but also failures, hiccups. While the goal had been attained, there were few things he hated more than news of a crossfire. Especially since it had been your fault.
“Thank you, Cass,” you declared in earnest.
Cassian brushed you off.
“I did what I had to.”
Your eyes found the floor and you smiled to yourself. So typical of him…
Cassian always looked after you. He was the only reason you had not died during a mission.
“You know,” you started before you could think it through. “I…”
Cassian called your name. His tone was gentle. You met his eyes, full of familiarity again at last. He had left behind the fears and worries that had kept him focussed and composed earlier. You had wondered what it would be like to wake up to meet those eyes every morning. You still did.
“In a different world,” you said before trailing off again.
It was so difficult to put words on it, even more so knowing they would amount to nothing. Your relationship with Cassian had always been special. You had been able to play off each other right from the start, fitting together like matching puzzle pieces. Alas, you had signed off your lives to a cause greater than either of you.
“I hope you’ll be there,” you started, looking down, “if I ever get shot again.”
At that Cassian chuckled.
“Maybe just don’t get shot at all.”
“That would be better, wouldn’t it?” you agreed.
Your eyes met his, soft and capturing the hint of a smile. The corners of your own lips turned up.
There were a thousand words you could have said. But none that mattered. Because your lives weren’t just yours anymore, if they ever had been. Nonetheless, you could not help the beat that your heart skipped when Cassian, facing the infinity of space, quietly whispered:
“Me too.”
A/N: I know, I know, it's again not exactly what was asked but! To be fair, the request was on the "vague" side, in that you can show Cassian and the Reader being close but avoiding their feelings in many different ways. So of course Reader had to get hurt! (Btw Anon, this is in no way a critique of your request, I was super happy when I got it bc angsttt)
I also kept the Reader gender neutral, cause I only assign a gender when it's plot-relevant (or NSFW) and I didn't think it was here, but that's just personal preference and my way of doing things.
Anyway, as always, please let me know your thoughts 🫶
Next Cassian one shot coming up soon (somehow still managed to make it fit in one timeline)! We're looking at 1.3 - 1.4k words. And of course it's hurt/comfort!! 🥳
Could you possibly write an "only one bed trope" for Spike x Reader?
Love your writing! :)
𝐖𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐘𝐀'
━━ 𖹭.ᐟ
⋆ 𐙚 ˚. 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 spike x reader / 0.6k words
⋆ 𐙚 ˚. 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 one bed trope
⋆ 𐙚 ˚. 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 awh, thanks! i hope u like this one!!
♡︎ 𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ♡︎
Spike’s crypt is the last place you ever thought you’d spend the night—and yet, here you are.
Your apartment’s off-limits for the time being, thanks to some soul-eating monstrosity which you had literally no business meeting on your way home from Buffy’s place.
Giles insisted you stay somewhere “secure,” and despite your many (loud) protests, here you are—safe, sound, and surrounded by cobwebs.
You’re perched awkwardly on a beat-up couch that looks like it’s been rescued from a junkyard sale. It creaks ominously every time you shift, and you're convinced Spike dragged it here from someone’s abandoned apartment.
You hug your knees to your chest and glance around the crypt, debating whether it’s morally wrong to snoop in a vampire’s things when he’s not looking.
Let’s be honest—Spike’s a mystery wrapped in leather and attitude, and you’re half-convinced that deep down beneath the bravado, there’s a big softie waiting to be uncovered.
Before you can move an inch toward the oak bookshelf, Spike saunters out from behind his makeshift bathroom setup.
“Bathroom” is a generous term—it’s really just a dingy corner with a chipped tub, a sink older than yourself, and a room divider he probably lifted from a Chinese restaurant.
He emerges barefoot, a towel slung low on his hips, damp curls clinging to his forehead. He tosses you a lazy glance, cigarette already dangling from his fingers, that ever-present smirk tugging at his lips.
“Lookin’ a bit stiff there, luv,” he drawls, lighting up like he owns the damn moon.
You roll your eyes, already over it. “Oh, shut up, vamp boy.”
He just chuckles, that low amused sound that always makes you feel like you’re the punchline. He sinks onto the bed with the grace of a cat, towel somehow managing to cling on for dear life. He takes a drag like he’s got all the time in the world—which, technically, he does.
“C’mon over, darlin’. I don’t bite—unless you ask real nice.” He winks, and you shoot him a look so deadpan it could stop his undead heart.
“No, thanks. I prefer distance.”
Spike only grins wider, clearly enjoying himself. “Don’t be such a prude, sweetheart. That couch’ll do ya’ no good. You’ll sleep better over here.”
His tone dips slightly, not quite teasing, not quite soft either. Something in it makes your shoulders ease just a little.
You huff out a sigh and drag yourself off the couch with theatrical reluctance. He pats the spot next to him like he’s inviting you into the most luxurious five-star suite.
“Lifted this mattress straight from a showroom,” he says proudly. “No one’s broken it in but yours truly.”
“Oh, of course you did,” you mutter, sitting beside him with a frown you don’t fully mean.
He laces his hands behind his head, watching you with that amused glint in his eye. You keep your gaze fixed on the cracked ceiling, trying to ignore how the crypt suddenly feels... less oppressive.
“I won’t touch ya. Promise,” he murmurs, and for once, there’s no smirk—just something almost gentle in his voice.
You turn away, curling under the thin blanket, mumbling, “Shut up,” but your tone’s lost its bite.
Morning doesn’t arrive so much as drift in slowly—filtered weakly through a grimy window near the heavy crypt door. There’s no birds singing, no breeze from the morning air. Just cold stone and colder silence in this tomb.
And something holding you.
The first thing you register is the chill—an arm slung around your waist, cool fingers resting against your stomach. Cold breath tickles the back of your neck in slow, even puffs.
Yeah, you think groggily, so much for no touching.
Fandom: Star Wars
Ship: Cassian Andor x Reader (gender and race neutral)
Word count: 1.3k
Genre: Hurt/comfort, fluff
Warnings: alcohol as a coping mechanism
Summary: You were off duty, and Cassian was off planet. So you found your way to a bar, sat down and drank.
Anon asked: may i please request cassian finding reader drunk at a bar during/after their mission and he goes to take care of them. with maybeee a sprinkle of drunk confessions if its okay??
Your mouth was pasty as you ran your tongue over your lips, the aftertaste of your last drink still sticking to your throat. You tried to swallow it away but it stuck, as thick as honey. Eyes closed, you breathed in the saturated air — smoke, sweat and liquor caused you to cough.
Rubbing your eyes with your thumb and index finger, you frowned. How long had you been there? Squinting, you looked for a clock, an open window, anything that would help you estimate the time. Slowly, you spun the bar stool and your head with it. You held tightly onto the counter, afraid of tumbling back.
The crowd was as varied as the states of drunkenness that exist, although you could not spot anyone sober. This was no place one went to for a fun night with friends — it was a bar to drown away your sorrows and regrets. With its buzzing lights and sticky floors, it was no wonder you had wandered there.
“Another round?” resonated a voice behind you.
Careful, you spun further until you faced the bar again, and the now very tall alien resting their hand against it. You opened your mouth to answer but instead came out looking like a fish out of water.
“I think it’ll just be water for you,” they declared, not awaiting your answer.
You frowned. You wanted to shout. You had not come here for water. You wanted to forget, to escape the anxiety that twisted your bowels with each passing hour without news from Cassian.
Every mission had been a challenge since your move to Yavin. You could not accompany him. The Rebels deemed you more valuable on site, not built for spying. At the point you had reached, mistakes were not allowed anymore. Everyone had to play to their strengths. Cassian’s were infiltration and manipulation, yours were communication and organization.
But tonight you were off duty, and Cassian was off planet. So you found your way to a bar, sat down and drank.
The host placed a glass of water in front of you and walked away.
Staring into the clear liquid, your throat started burning.
What if this was the time Cassian did not make it back?
You worried your lower lip and hid your face behind your hands. Your eyes grew moist, but you bit back the tears, grinding your teeth together. You had to keep it together.
Swallowing a dry lump, you shuffled your pockets. It was time for you to retreat into the safety of your home and sleep the alcohol and the pain away. The cool metal of the credits found your palm and you abandoned a handful on the counter. Not one to turn down a drink, you threw back the glass of water and slammed it down.
Legs shaky, but determined, you stood up from the stool, holding onto the seat and the counter. One step after another, you slumped towards the exit. You focused on the floor and correctly putting one foot in front of the other until a shoulder collided with yours.
You looked up, ready to cuss out whoever has done that. Instead, you stumbled and noticed the floor getting closer. Until it wasn’t. You had stopped. Mid-air…
“Woah there,” a familiar voice came up next to you.
Strong hands pulled you up by the shoulders. You blinked, attempting to regain focus over your sight as the world spun around you.
“Cassian?” you mumbled.
He looked you over and his brow furrowed.
“How much did you drink?” he wondered, voice tense.
“A glass of water,” you joked. “Before that I don’t remember.”
He sighed, but did not comment further.
“Let’s get you home,” he breathed. “Can you walk?”
You nodded slowly.
The journey back to your shared quarters was quiet. Your eyes alternated between your feet and Cassian’s handsome face. He had grown a stubble during his absence. You liked how it looked on him. His gaze was serious and closed off however, which you liked much less.
You tried not to pay it too much attention, your mind still blurred by liquor. Yet you knew he was upset because of you. Without warning, the tension in your stomach returned. You wanted to apologise, to cry, to run away, and bury yourself in his arms. You had missed him so, as you always did.
You licked your lips, bit your tongue. Your throat was tight with regrets.
However, with each step, you could feel yourself regain consciousness. The glass of water, the fresh air, the exercising were all helping you resurface. By the time you reached your quarters, you almost felt like yourself. You noticed then how he had never let go of your hand since you left the bar.
Not daring to meet his gaze, you squeezed his fingers.
“How are you feeling?” Cassian wondered.
You shrugged: “I’m okay.”
You sighed.
“I’m sorry, Cass.”
He did not reply immediately, instead squeezing your hand in return.
“Me too.”
You frowned and tentatively looked up at him.
“Why?”
“I know that you hate when I leave.”
“It doesn’t mean you have to apologise,” you countered. “The Rebellion needs you, you’re the best-”
“You also need me.”
Your jaw tightened. How you wished he was wrong. How you wished you could lie and tell him no. But Cassian had always been able to see right through you. He turned to face you fully.
“I just worry so much,” you confessed, voice tight.
“I worry too,” he admitted in turn. “Every time I leave, I worry about you.”
You frowned.
“I worry that the Empire will find you while I am gone, that I won’t be there to protect you.”
You swallowed and bit back tears for the second time tonight.
“I love you,” you whispered, afraid that your voice might break if you spoke any louder.
“I love you too,” Cassian breathed, pulling you closer.
He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and kissed the side of your head. A palm rubbed slow circles against your back.
“Let’s go sleep?” he suggested, barely above a whisper.
You nodded into his coat.
“But first,” he said, pulling away to meet your gaze, “more water for you.”
You chuckled but did not oppose him. Inside your barracks, you allowed Cassian to lead you to the dinner table, and sat down without protest. He returned from the small kitchen with a fresh glass and a portion of biscuits.
“It’ll absorb the alcohol,” he explained, eyes tender.
You smiled as he sat next to you.
Opening the foil, you could not help but ask: “How did the mission go?”
Cassian hesitated. He rubbed a hand over his chin, scratched his stubble.
“I’ll have a lot to report tomorrow.”
You nodded and bit into your snack. It was then that you noticed the deep pockets under his beautiful eyes, the flatness of his hair, the slump in his back. You worried about what this prolonged fight was putting him through.
You dove into your packet of biscuits and handed one to Cassian. While he tried to turn it down at first, he accepted when you countered with: “When’s the last time you ate something?”
You finished your meager dinner in comfortable silence, your feet meeting under the table. When the glass of water was empty, Cassian led you to the bedroom. There, you changed quietly. While a thousand quips usually ran through your mind at the sight of Cassian’s muscular back, this was not one of those nights. All you wanted was for you to return to home — in each other’s arms, peacefully.
When you met his gaze in bed after he pulled the duvet over you, you finally realised it: he was home. He was safe. He was here. And as you fell into the darkness, the last thing you felt were Cassian’s soft lips upon your forehead.
A/N: Hey Anon! It's not completely what you had requested. It's also not completely what I had originally imagined. I thought of something more lighthearted that would include a drunk confession. Buuut then the angst got to me and I thought it'd be cute to set this one in the same timeline as Midnight, sooo it's a pre-established relationship. I'll still try to write something lighter for Cassian next time, but it's not my fault he brings out my dormant hurt/comfort side xD
Fandom: Star Wars
Ship: Cassian Andor x Reader (gender and race neutral)
Word count: 1.3k
Genre: Hurt/comfort, fluff
Warnings: alcohol as a coping mechanism
Summary: You were off duty, and Cassian was off planet. So you found your way to a bar, sat down and drank.
Anon asked: may i please request cassian finding reader drunk at a bar during/after their mission and he goes to take care of them. with maybeee a sprinkle of drunk confessions if its okay??
Your mouth was pasty as you ran your tongue over your lips, the aftertaste of your last drink still sticking to your throat. You tried to swallow it away but it stuck, as thick as honey. Eyes closed, you breathed in the saturated air — smoke, sweat and liquor caused you to cough.
Rubbing your eyes with your thumb and index finger, you frowned. How long had you been there? Squinting, you looked for a clock, an open window, anything that would help you estimate the time. Slowly, you spun the bar stool and your head with it. You held tightly onto the counter, afraid of tumbling back.
The crowd was as varied as the states of drunkenness that exist, although you could not spot anyone sober. This was no place one went to for a fun night with friends — it was a bar to drown away your sorrows and regrets. With its buzzing lights and sticky floors, it was no wonder you had wandered there.
“Another round?” resonated a voice behind you.
Careful, you spun further until you faced the bar again, and the now very tall alien resting their hand against it. You opened your mouth to answer but instead came out looking like a fish out of water.
“I think it’ll just be water for you,” they declared, not awaiting your answer.
You frowned. You wanted to shout. You had not come here for water. You wanted to forget, to escape the anxiety that twisted your bowels with each passing hour without news from Cassian.
Every mission had been a challenge since your move to Yavin. You could not accompany him. The Rebels deemed you more valuable on site, not built for spying. At the point you had reached, mistakes were not allowed anymore. Everyone had to play to their strengths. Cassian’s were infiltration and manipulation, yours were communication and organization.
But tonight you were off duty, and Cassian was off planet. So you found your way to a bar, sat down and drank.
The host placed a glass of water in front of you and walked away.
Staring into the clear liquid, your throat started burning.
What if this was the time Cassian did not make it back?
You worried your lower lip and hid your face behind your hands. Your eyes grew moist, but you bit back the tears, grinding your teeth together. You had to keep it together.
Swallowing a dry lump, you shuffled your pockets. It was time for you to retreat into the safety of your home and sleep the alcohol and the pain away. The cool metal of the credits found your palm and you abandoned a handful on the counter. Not one to turn down a drink, you threw back the glass of water and slammed it down.
Legs shaky, but determined, you stood up from the stool, holding onto the seat and the counter. One step after another, you slumped towards the exit. You focused on the floor and correctly putting one foot in front of the other until a shoulder collided with yours.
You looked up, ready to cuss out whoever has done that. Instead, you stumbled and noticed the floor getting closer. Until it wasn’t. You had stopped. Mid-air…
“Woah there,” a familiar voice came up next to you.
Strong hands pulled you up by the shoulders. You blinked, attempting to regain focus over your sight as the world spun around you.
“Cassian?” you mumbled.
He looked you over and his brow furrowed.
“How much did you drink?” he wondered, voice tense.
“A glass of water,” you joked. “Before that I don’t remember.”
He sighed, but did not comment further.
“Let’s get you home,” he breathed. “Can you walk?”
You nodded slowly.
The journey back to your shared quarters was quiet. Your eyes alternated between your feet and Cassian’s handsome face. He had grown a stubble during his absence. You liked how it looked on him. His gaze was serious and closed off however, which you liked much less.
You tried not to pay it too much attention, your mind still blurred by liquor. Yet you knew he was upset because of you. Without warning, the tension in your stomach returned. You wanted to apologise, to cry, to run away, and bury yourself in his arms. You had missed him so, as you always did.
You licked your lips, bit your tongue. Your throat was tight with regrets.
However, with each step, you could feel yourself regain consciousness. The glass of water, the fresh air, the exercising were all helping you resurface. By the time you reached your quarters, you almost felt like yourself. You noticed then how he had never let go of your hand since you left the bar.
Not daring to meet his gaze, you squeezed his fingers.
“How are you feeling?” Cassian wondered.
You shrugged: “I’m okay.”
You sighed.
“I’m sorry, Cass.”
He did not reply immediately, instead squeezing your hand in return.
“Me too.”
You frowned and tentatively looked up at him.
“Why?”
“I know that you hate when I leave.”
“It doesn’t mean you have to apologise,” you countered. “The Rebellion needs you, you’re the best-”
“You also need me.”
Your jaw tightened. How you wished he was wrong. How you wished you could lie and tell him no. But Cassian had always been able to see right through you. He turned to face you fully.
“I just worry so much,” you confessed, voice tight.
“I worry too,” he admitted in turn. “Every time I leave, I worry about you.”
You frowned.
“I worry that the Empire will find you while I am gone, that I won’t be there to protect you.”
You swallowed and bit back tears for the second time tonight.
“I love you,” you whispered, afraid that your voice might break if you spoke any louder.
“I love you too,” Cassian breathed, pulling you closer.
He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and kissed the side of your head. A palm rubbed slow circles against your back.
“Let’s go sleep?” he suggested, barely above a whisper.
You nodded into his coat.
“But first,” he said, pulling away to meet your gaze, “more water for you.”
You chuckled but did not oppose him. Inside your barracks, you allowed Cassian to lead you to the dinner table, and sat down without protest. He returned from the small kitchen with a fresh glass and a portion of biscuits.
“It’ll absorb the alcohol,” he explained, eyes tender.
You smiled as he sat next to you.
Opening the foil, you could not help but ask: “How did the mission go?”
Cassian hesitated. He rubbed a hand over his chin, scratched his stubble.
“I’ll have a lot to report tomorrow.”
You nodded and bit into your snack. It was then that you noticed the deep pockets under his beautiful eyes, the flatness of his hair, the slump in his back. You worried about what this prolonged fight was putting him through.
You dove into your packet of biscuits and handed one to Cassian. While he tried to turn it down at first, he accepted when you countered with: “When’s the last time you ate something?”
You finished your meager dinner in comfortable silence, your feet meeting under the table. When the glass of water was empty, Cassian led you to the bedroom. There, you changed quietly. While a thousand quips usually ran through your mind at the sight of Cassian’s muscular back, this was not one of those nights. All you wanted was for you to return to home — in each other’s arms, peacefully.
When you met his gaze in bed after he pulled the duvet over you, you finally realised it: he was home. He was safe. He was here. And as you fell into the darkness, the last thing you felt were Cassian’s soft lips upon your forehead.
A/N: Hey Anon! It's not completely what you had requested. It's also not completely what I had originally imagined. I thought of something more lighthearted that would include a drunk confession. Buuut then the angst got to me and I thought it'd be cute to set this one in the same timeline as Midnight, sooo it's a pre-established relationship. I'll still try to write something lighter for Cassian next time, but it's not my fault he brings out my dormant hurt/comfort side xD
i LOVEEE the recent fic u wrote with Cassian, such a beautyyy *chef’s kiss* and i saw that ur requests are open >:)) may i please request cassian finding reader drunk at a bar during/after their mission and he goes to take care of them. with maybeee a sprinkle of drunk confessions if its okay?? i js love this man sm i miss him
Thank youuuuuuuu, dear anon!
I just posted your request. Like I say in my author's note at the end, it's not really what you requested or what you had originally envisioned. Nonetheless, I hope you will like it!
Fandom: Star Wars
Ship: Cassian Andor x Reader (gender and race neutral)
Word count: 1.3k
Genre: Hurt/comfort, fluff
Warnings: alcohol as a coping mechanism
Summary: You were off duty, and Cassian was off planet. So you found your way to a bar, sat down and drank.
Anon asked: may i please request cassian finding reader drunk at a bar during/after their mission and he goes to take care of them. with maybeee a sprinkle of drunk confessions if its okay??
Your mouth was pasty as you ran your tongue over your lips, the aftertaste of your last drink still sticking to your throat. You tried to swallow it away but it stuck, as thick as honey. Eyes closed, you breathed in the saturated air — smoke, sweat and liquor caused you to cough.
Rubbing your eyes with your thumb and index finger, you frowned. How long had you been there? Squinting, you looked for a clock, an open window, anything that would help you estimate the time. Slowly, you spun the bar stool and your head with it. You held tightly onto the counter, afraid of tumbling back.
The crowd was as varied as the states of drunkenness that exist, although you could not spot anyone sober. This was no place one went to for a fun night with friends — it was a bar to drown away your sorrows and regrets. With its buzzing lights and sticky floors, it was no wonder you had wandered there.
“Another round?” resonated a voice behind you.
Careful, you spun further until you faced the bar again, and the now very tall alien resting their hand against it. You opened your mouth to answer but instead came out looking like a fish out of water.
“I think it’ll just be water for you,” they declared, not awaiting your answer.
You frowned. You wanted to shout. You had not come here for water. You wanted to forget, to escape the anxiety that twisted your bowels with each passing hour without news from Cassian.
Every mission had been a challenge since your move to Yavin. You could not accompany him. The Rebels deemed you more valuable on site, not built for spying. At the point you had reached, mistakes were not allowed anymore. Everyone had to play to their strengths. Cassian’s were infiltration and manipulation, yours were communication and organization.
But tonight you were off duty, and Cassian was off planet. So you found your way to a bar, sat down and drank.
The host placed a glass of water in front of you and walked away.
Staring into the clear liquid, your throat started burning.
What if this was the time Cassian did not make it back?
You worried your lower lip and hid your face behind your hands. Your eyes grew moist, but you bit back the tears, grinding your teeth together. You had to keep it together.
Swallowing a dry lump, you shuffled your pockets. It was time for you to retreat into the safety of your home and sleep the alcohol and the pain away. The cool metal of the credits found your palm and you abandoned a handful on the counter. Not one to turn down a drink, you threw back the glass of water and slammed it down.
Legs shaky, but determined, you stood up from the stool, holding onto the seat and the counter. One step after another, you slumped towards the exit. You focused on the floor and correctly putting one foot in front of the other until a shoulder collided with yours.
You looked up, ready to cuss out whoever has done that. Instead, you stumbled and noticed the floor getting closer. Until it wasn’t. You had stopped. Mid-air…
“Woah there,” a familiar voice came up next to you.
Strong hands pulled you up by the shoulders. You blinked, attempting to regain focus over your sight as the world spun around you.
“Cassian?” you mumbled.
He looked you over and his brow furrowed.
“How much did you drink?” he wondered, voice tense.
“A glass of water,” you joked. “Before that I don’t remember.”
He sighed, but did not comment further.
“Let’s get you home,” he breathed. “Can you walk?”
You nodded slowly.
The journey back to your shared quarters was quiet. Your eyes alternated between your feet and Cassian’s handsome face. He had grown a stubble during his absence. You liked how it looked on him. His gaze was serious and closed off however, which you liked much less.
You tried not to pay it too much attention, your mind still blurred by liquor. Yet you knew he was upset because of you. Without warning, the tension in your stomach returned. You wanted to apologise, to cry, to run away, and bury yourself in his arms. You had missed him so, as you always did.
You licked your lips, bit your tongue. Your throat was tight with regrets.
However, with each step, you could feel yourself regain consciousness. The glass of water, the fresh air, the exercising were all helping you resurface. By the time you reached your quarters, you almost felt like yourself. You noticed then how he had never let go of your hand since you left the bar.
Not daring to meet his gaze, you squeezed his fingers.
“How are you feeling?” Cassian wondered.
You shrugged: “I’m okay.”
You sighed.
“I’m sorry, Cass.”
He did not reply immediately, instead squeezing your hand in return.
“Me too.”
You frowned and tentatively looked up at him.
“Why?”
“I know that you hate when I leave.”
“It doesn’t mean you have to apologise,” you countered. “The Rebellion needs you, you’re the best-”
“You also need me.”
Your jaw tightened. How you wished he was wrong. How you wished you could lie and tell him no. But Cassian had always been able to see right through you. He turned to face you fully.
“I just worry so much,” you confessed, voice tight.
“I worry too,” he admitted in turn. “Every time I leave, I worry about you.”
You frowned.
“I worry that the Empire will find you while I am gone, that I won’t be there to protect you.”
You swallowed and bit back tears for the second time tonight.
“I love you,” you whispered, afraid that your voice might break if you spoke any louder.
“I love you too,” Cassian breathed, pulling you closer.
He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and kissed the side of your head. A palm rubbed slow circles against your back.
“Let’s go sleep?” he suggested, barely above a whisper.
You nodded into his coat.
“But first,” he said, pulling away to meet your gaze, “more water for you.”
You chuckled but did not oppose him. Inside your barracks, you allowed Cassian to lead you to the dinner table, and sat down without protest. He returned from the small kitchen with a fresh glass and a portion of biscuits.
“It’ll absorb the alcohol,” he explained, eyes tender.
You smiled as he sat next to you.
Opening the foil, you could not help but ask: “How did the mission go?”
Cassian hesitated. He rubbed a hand over his chin, scratched his stubble.
“I’ll have a lot to report tomorrow.”
You nodded and bit into your snack. It was then that you noticed the deep pockets under his beautiful eyes, the flatness of his hair, the slump in his back. You worried about what this prolonged fight was putting him through.
You dove into your packet of biscuits and handed one to Cassian. While he tried to turn it down at first, he accepted when you countered with: “When’s the last time you ate something?”
You finished your meager dinner in comfortable silence, your feet meeting under the table. When the glass of water was empty, Cassian led you to the bedroom. There, you changed quietly. While a thousand quips usually ran through your mind at the sight of Cassian’s muscular back, this was not one of those nights. All you wanted was for you to return to home — in each other’s arms, peacefully.
When you met his gaze in bed after he pulled the duvet over you, you finally realised it: he was home. He was safe. He was here. And as you fell into the darkness, the last thing you felt were Cassian’s soft lips upon your forehead.
A/N: Hey Anon! It's not completely what you had requested. It's also not completely what I had originally imagined. I thought of something more lighthearted that would include a drunk confession. Buuut then the angst got to me and I thought it'd be cute to set this one in the same timeline as Midnight, sooo it's a pre-established relationship. I'll still try to write something lighter for Cassian next time, but it's not my fault he brings out my dormant hurt/comfort side xD
Fandom: Star Wars
Ship: Cassian Andor x Reader (gender & race neutral)
Word count: 1k
Genre: Fluff, very minor angst
Warnings: none
Ao3 link: here
Summary: You cannot sleep. But neither can Cassian. So maybe it is time to turn on that old radio in the safe house?
Your palms rested onto the chilled windowsill, the cool material numbing your fingertips. A shiver ran along your arms and up your spine. With every breath, fog appeared upon the glass, before disappearing almost immediately. You were cold. Yet you did not wish to move.
Everyone was asleep. Everyone but you.
It was hard to believe Coruscant could ever be peaceful. Yet, in that moment, as you looked out the window of the safe house, you felt appeased. The city was quiet, with only a handful of lights fighting for your attention. The whites of a passing vehicle here, the yellows of safety there. No shouting. No rumbling. Nothing.
Until the sound of bare feet brushed against the floor. A click. Then, a dirtied and damaged recording of a pleasant melody, that had been covered up by parasites. Before long, two warm hands came to gently rest upon your shoulder blades.
"I couldn't sleep," you mumbled without turning.
"I know," Cassian answered in a breath, causing the hairs on your neck to stand. "Me neither."
He leaned closer against your back, brushing your upper arms with his palms. Slowly, he kissed the base of your neck.
"You're cold," he remarked.
You nodded: "Just a little."
"Do you want a tea?"
"No, thank you."
Moving closer still, Cassian's arms wrapped around you. One snaked around your belly while the other met your hand on the windowsill.
"Your fingers are frozen," he pointed out. "Are you sure about that tea?"
You recognized the concern in his voice, the edge it took when he worried about you.
"Yes, I'm sure," you replied gently.
You could not blame him for being cautious. Not after everything you had already gone through.
Staying close, you spun in his arms. You rubbed a finger against his cheek, feeling the prickly hairs of his beard. It had been a while since you had seen him clean shaven. After a moment, you dropped it to join your other hand on his chest. The rhythmic beats of his hearts pressed into your open palms. He was alive. And he was here with you.
However, the deep bags under his eyes worried you, reminders of the countless sleepless nights. Yet, his brown irises looked upon you with the same tenderness they always held.
You breathed in and your back hit the cool windowsill. A new chill ran up your spine from the contrast.
"Just hold me close."
Cassian chuckled: "That I can do."
He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and pulled you in as you snaked your arms around his middle. You buried your nose into his neck and breathed him in. The scent of the bed sheets you had been sharing still clung to him. You rubbed your cheek against the soft material of his shirt.
You recognized the familiar pressure of a kiss being placed upon your head. A smile tugged at your lips through the haze. Meanwhile, the radio kept playing that same slow melody.
Left. Right. Left. Right.
You closed your eyes and sighed.
Left. Right. Left. Right.
At first discreet, you started swaying.
Left. Right. Left. Right.
Cassian's chest rumbled against your own as he chuckled.
"You want to dance?" he asked.
You noticed the smile in his eyes when you met his gaze.
"It's been a long time," you pointed out.
"It has been," he agreed. "Too long."
He pulled you in to peck your lips. Then, not looking away, his hands traveled to your waist. Your own fingers laid upon his shoulders.
Cassian led your movements, swaying and spinning you to the rhythm of the crackled music. He guided you away from the window to the center of the room.
For a moment, everything was normal. You were with Cassian. You were dancing. You were happy.
You smiled when he pulled away to make you turn under his hand, fingers never completely letting go. When you spun back to him, he enveloped you in his arms, your back pressed against his chest now.
You peeked at him over your shoulder. How you had missed to see him smile with that playful glint in his eyes. Your heart ached. You could not imagine anyone else in his shoes. Only Cassian could make you feel at home so suddenly.
He pressed a kiss to your cheek and you came to a still. The melody quieted. It was over.
But you refused to move. Your eyes locked with Cassian's.
"Please tell me it will all be worth it."
He nodded, almost imperceptibly.
"It will."
You spun to face him once again and buried yourself into him. You never wanted to let go. Cassian was your home.
You remembered the days and nights in Ferrix. You remembered the times he would disappear and leave you worried; the days he came home covered in bruises, the nights you spent cleaning them. You remembered the evenings spent drinking in bars with friends, the melodies that swept you off your feet, the hearts in Cassian's eyes.
You could not help but miss it all.
"Let's go sleep," he offered, voice quiet and tender.
You nodded, nose pressed against his shoulder. After a final squeeze, you let him go. Cassian turned off the radio. The safe house was once again just as quiet as the city.
Holding your hand, Cassian led you to the bed. He lied down next to you and covered you with the sheets. After pulling his pillow close to yours, he pressed one last kiss against the back of your hand.
"Goodnight," he whispered into your skin.
"Goodnight."
Your palms rested onto the warm mattress, the soft material of your pillow welcoming you. A shiver ran along your arms and up your spine. You could feel Cassian's every breath against your neck. But you were not cold. You were comfortable, at home in the arms of the man you loved. And you did not wish to move.
Everyone was asleep. Everyone including you.
A/N: This was my first time writing for Star Wars. I just binged all of Andor and I will probably do a Rogue One rewatch some time soon to complete the experience. But needless to say, I was hooked. And of course, Diego Luna won my heart (again) with his portrayal of Cassian.
Since I've been daydreaming a lot about slow dancing with him, I figured it was time for me to put digital pen to paper and share it with others ^^
Please let me know your thoughts :)
Fandom: Star Wars
Ship: Cassian Andor x Reader (gender & race neutral)
Word count: 1k
Genre: Fluff, very minor angst
Warnings: none
Ao3 link: here
Summary: You cannot sleep. But neither can Cassian. So maybe it is time to turn on that old radio in the safe house?
Your palms rested onto the chilled windowsill, the cool material numbing your fingertips. A shiver ran along your arms and up your spine. With every breath, fog appeared upon the glass, before disappearing almost immediately. You were cold. Yet you did not wish to move.
Everyone was asleep. Everyone but you.
It was hard to believe Coruscant could ever be peaceful. Yet, in that moment, as you looked out the window of the safe house, you felt appeased. The city was quiet, with only a handful of lights fighting for your attention. The whites of a passing vehicle here, the yellows of safety there. No shouting. No rumbling. Nothing.
Until the sound of bare feet brushed against the floor. A click. Then, a dirtied and damaged recording of a pleasant melody, that had been covered up by parasites. Before long, two warm hands came to gently rest upon your shoulder blades.
"I couldn't sleep," you mumbled without turning.
"I know," Cassian answered in a breath, causing the hairs on your neck to stand. "Me neither."
He leaned closer against your back, brushing your upper arms with his palms. Slowly, he kissed the base of your neck.
"You're cold," he remarked.
You nodded: "Just a little."
"Do you want a tea?"
"No, thank you."
Moving closer still, Cassian's arms wrapped around you. One snaked around your belly while the other met your hand on the windowsill.
"Your fingers are frozen," he pointed out. "Are you sure about that tea?"
You recognized the concern in his voice, the edge it took when he worried about you.
"Yes, I'm sure," you replied gently.
You could not blame him for being cautious. Not after everything you had already gone through.
Staying close, you spun in his arms. You rubbed a finger against his cheek, feeling the prickly hairs of his beard. It had been a while since you had seen him clean shaven. After a moment, you dropped it to join your other hand on his chest. The rhythmic beats of his hearts pressed into your open palms. He was alive. And he was here with you.
However, the deep bags under his eyes worried you, reminders of the countless sleepless nights. Yet, his brown irises looked upon you with the same tenderness they always held.
You breathed in and your back hit the cool windowsill. A new chill ran up your spine from the contrast.
"Just hold me close."
Cassian chuckled: "That I can do."
He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and pulled you in as you snaked your arms around his middle. You buried your nose into his neck and breathed him in. The scent of the bed sheets you had been sharing still clung to him. You rubbed your cheek against the soft material of his shirt.
You recognized the familiar pressure of a kiss being placed upon your head. A smile tugged at your lips through the haze. Meanwhile, the radio kept playing that same slow melody.
Left. Right. Left. Right.
You closed your eyes and sighed.
Left. Right. Left. Right.
At first discreet, you started swaying.
Left. Right. Left. Right.
Cassian's chest rumbled against your own as he chuckled.
"You want to dance?" he asked.
You noticed the smile in his eyes when you met his gaze.
"It's been a long time," you pointed out.
"It has been," he agreed. "Too long."
He pulled you in to peck your lips. Then, not looking away, his hands traveled to your waist. Your own fingers laid upon his shoulders.
Cassian led your movements, swaying and spinning you to the rhythm of the crackled music. He guided you away from the window to the center of the room.
For a moment, everything was normal. You were with Cassian. You were dancing. You were happy.
You smiled when he pulled away to make you turn under his hand, fingers never completely letting go. When you spun back to him, he enveloped you in his arms, your back pressed against his chest now.
You peeked at him over your shoulder. How you had missed to see him smile with that playful glint in his eyes. Your heart ached. You could not imagine anyone else in his shoes. Only Cassian could make you feel at home so suddenly.
He pressed a kiss to your cheek and you came to a still. The melody quieted. It was over.
But you refused to move. Your eyes locked with Cassian's.
"Please tell me it will all be worth it."
He nodded, almost imperceptibly.
"It will."
You spun to face him once again and buried yourself into him. You never wanted to let go. Cassian was your home.
You remembered the days and nights in Ferrix. You remembered the times he would disappear and leave you worried; the days he came home covered in bruises, the nights you spent cleaning them. You remembered the evenings spent drinking in bars with friends, the melodies that swept you off your feet, the hearts in Cassian's eyes.
You could not help but miss it all.
"Let's go sleep," he offered, voice quiet and tender.
You nodded, nose pressed against his shoulder. After a final squeeze, you let him go. Cassian turned off the radio. The safe house was once again just as quiet as the city.
Holding your hand, Cassian led you to the bed. He lied down next to you and covered you with the sheets. After pulling his pillow close to yours, he pressed one last kiss against the back of your hand.
"Goodnight," he whispered into your skin.
"Goodnight."
Your palms rested onto the warm mattress, the soft material of your pillow welcoming you. A shiver ran along your arms and up your spine. You could feel Cassian's every breath against your neck. But you were not cold. You were comfortable, at home in the arms of the man you loved. And you did not wish to move.
Everyone was asleep. Everyone including you.
A/N: This was my first time writing for Star Wars. I just binged all of Andor and I will probably do a Rogue One rewatch some time soon to complete the experience. But needless to say, I was hooked. And of course, Diego Luna won my heart (again) with his portrayal of Cassian.
Since I've been daydreaming a lot about slow dancing with him, I figured it was time for me to put digital pen to paper and share it with others ^^
Please let me know your thoughts :)
Fandom: Star Wars
Ship: Cassian Andor x Reader (gender & race neutral)
Word count: 1k
Genre: Fluff, very minor angst
Warnings: none
Ao3 link: here
Summary: You cannot sleep. But neither can Cassian. So maybe it is time to turn on that old radio in the safe house?
Your palms rested onto the chilled windowsill, the cool material numbing your fingertips. A shiver ran along your arms and up your spine. With every breath, fog appeared upon the glass, before disappearing almost immediately. You were cold. Yet you did not wish to move.
Everyone was asleep. Everyone but you.
It was hard to believe Coruscant could ever be peaceful. Yet, in that moment, as you looked out the window of the safe house, you felt appeased. The city was quiet, with only a handful of lights fighting for your attention. The whites of a passing vehicle here, the yellows of safety there. No shouting. No rumbling. Nothing.
Until the sound of bare feet brushed against the floor. A click. Then, a dirtied and damaged recording of a pleasant melody, that had been covered up by parasites. Before long, two warm hands came to gently rest upon your shoulder blades.
"I couldn't sleep," you mumbled without turning.
"I know," Cassian answered in a breath, causing the hairs on your neck to stand. "Me neither."
He leaned closer against your back, brushing your upper arms with his palms. Slowly, he kissed the base of your neck.
"You're cold," he remarked.
You nodded: "Just a little."
"Do you want a tea?"
"No, thank you."
Moving closer still, Cassian's arms wrapped around you. One snaked around your belly while the other met your hand on the windowsill.
"Your fingers are frozen," he pointed out. "Are you sure about that tea?"
You recognized the concern in his voice, the edge it took when he worried about you.
"Yes, I'm sure," you replied gently.
You could not blame him for being cautious. Not after everything you had already gone through.
Staying close, you spun in his arms. You rubbed a finger against his cheek, feeling the prickly hairs of his beard. It had been a while since you had seen him clean shaven. After a moment, you dropped it to join your other hand on his chest. The rhythmic beats of his heart pressed into your open palms. He was alive. And he was here with you.
However, the deep bags under his eyes worried you, reminders of the countless sleepless nights. Yet, his brown irises looked upon you with the same tenderness they always held.
You breathed in and your back hit the cool windowsill. A new chill ran up your spine from the contrast.
"Just hold me close."
Cassian chuckled: "That I can do."
He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and pulled you in as you snaked your arms around his middle. You buried your nose into his neck and breathed him in. The scent of the bed sheets you had been sharing still clung to him. You rubbed your cheek against the soft material of his shirt.
You recognized the familiar pressure of a kiss being placed upon your head. A smile tugged at your lips through the haze. Meanwhile, the radio kept playing that same slow melody.
Left. Right. Left. Right.
You closed your eyes and sighed.
Left. Right. Left. Right.
At first discreet, you started swaying.
Left. Right. Left. Right.
Cassian's chest rumbled against your own as he chuckled.
"You want to dance?" he asked.
You noticed the smile in his eyes when you met his gaze.
"It's been a long time," you pointed out.
"It has been," he agreed. "Too long."
He pulled you in to peck your lips. Then, not looking away, his hands traveled to your waist. Your own fingers laid upon his shoulders.
Cassian led your movements, swaying and spinning you to the rhythm of the crackled music. He guided you away from the window to the center of the room.
For a moment, everything was normal. You were with Cassian. You were dancing. You were happy.
You smiled when he pulled away to make you turn under his hand, fingers never completely letting go. When you spun back to him, he enveloped you in his arms, your back pressed against his chest now.
You peeked at him over your shoulder. How you had missed to see him smile with that playful glint in his eyes. Your heart ached. You could not imagine anyone else in his shoes. Only Cassian could make you feel at home so suddenly.
He pressed a kiss to your cheek and you came to a still. The melody quieted. It was over.
But you refused to move. Your eyes locked with Cassian's.
"Please tell me it will all be worth it."
He nodded, almost imperceptibly.
"It will."
You spun to face him once again and buried yourself into him. You never wanted to let go. Cassian was your home.
You remembered the days and nights in Ferrix. You remembered the times he would disappear and leave you worried; the days he came home covered in bruises, the nights you spent cleaning them. You remembered the evenings spent drinking in bars with friends, the melodies that swept you off your feet, the hearts in Cassian's eyes.
You could not help but miss it all.
"Let's go sleep," he offered, voice quiet and tender.
You nodded, nose pressed against his shoulder. After a final squeeze, you let him go. Cassian turned off the radio. The safe house was once again just as quiet as the city.
Holding your hand, Cassian led you to the bed. He lied down next to you and covered you with the sheets. After pulling his pillow close to yours, he pressed one last kiss against the back of your hand.
"Goodnight," he whispered into your skin.
"Goodnight."
Your palms rested onto the warm mattress, the soft material of your pillow welcoming you. A shiver ran along your arms and up your spine. You could feel Cassian's every breath against your neck. But you were not cold. You were comfortable, at home in the arms of the man you loved. And you did not wish to move.
Everyone was asleep. Everyone including you.
A/N: This was my first time writing for Star Wars. I just binged all of Andor and I will probably do a Rogue One rewatch some time soon to complete the experience. But needless to say, I was hooked. And of course, Diego Luna won my heart (again) with his portrayal of Cassian.
Since I've been daydreaming a lot about slow dancing with him, I figured it was time for me to put digital pen to paper and share it with others ^^
Please let me know your thoughts :)
I recently binged the shit out of Andor and now Star Wars is on my mind.
So if anyone has requests for Cassian Andor or Obi-Wan Kenobi (yes, just those 2 for now), please send an ask through and I'll look at it in the morning!
cassian andor (star wars) with gender neutral, spy!reader. sfw (sex mentioned but not described!). inspired (vaguely) by “stars” off pinkpantheress’ fancy that album. diego luna the man that u are… basically, he hooks up with you, falls in love as you spy for him, but the ISB starts getting on your ass. + masterlist.
. . . there he was again, trying to reach you through your encrypted comlink. it’s his fourth time trying to contact you this week, and your fourth time ignoring him.
you’d met cassian andor at a club after work. you’d been hoping to let loose after yet another stressful day at the imperial security bureau. you weren’t even supposed to be caught in a place as rank and low as a nightclub, but there you were, job be damned, sitting at the bar and checking out any man that passed by you. he’d slid over to your side, introducing himself as varian skye; the two of you hit it off right away. one drink led to another — one thing led to another — and the next thing you knew, it was morning time and he was gone, leaving you nothing but a cheeky note thanking you for the intel you’d given him on the empire.
you’d unintentionally became an inside spy.
you could’ve stopped. you could’ve kept the whole shameful night as a secret you’d have to carry for the rest of your life. you could’ve left varian skye behind. but you didn’t. when you got a strange call through your comlink a week later, you answered, your heart stuttering at the sound of cassian’s voice. he asked you to be an informant. his informant, he said. you agreed before he could even try to sweeten the deal. his voice was all the persuasion you needed to defect. it wasn’t like you’d ever held on strongly to imperial values anyways.
two days after that call, he came by your place and stayed the night. one thing led to another, again, though this time when you woke the next morning, his body was still holding onto yours. he left after breakfast, then, two weeks later, called you for information before coming back over. the cycle repeated, again and again — a cycle of giving away secrets, then desperately mimicking domesticity with a rebel you hardly knew. you grew closer to cassian with each visit, eventually even learning his real name (and mocking him over his fake one). cassian learned about you, too. your past, your family, your scars, what you liked and disliked… “you get more interesting each time i stop by,” he murmurs playfully one night, leaning over to kiss your forehead before sleeping.
things weren’t perfect. it never could be, given the circumstances. but you both were content enough with what you had and with each other — at least until the imperial security bureau had started targeting you. it began with a check of your things one morning, a “spontaneous security check”. then suddenly there were new people walking the same routes as you when you’d make your way home. a new face appeared in the office across from you, their smile not entirely friendly and their eyes far too calculating. you decided to cut contact, at least for a while, for the sake of you both. it was something you wouldn’t cave on.
something you shouldn’t cave on.
as much as you shouldn’t, when cassian tries to contact you for the fifth time, you cave.
“i’ve been dealing with other informants, you know,” he hisses out as soon as you accept his call. he’s upset, rightfully so, and you can almost see his furrowed brows and annoyed look.
“how’s that going for you?” you ask, glancing out of one of your windows and taking in the setting sun.
“poorly,” cassian spits out, “what’s the deal? we had an agreement.”
“they’re everywhere, cassian,” you murmur into your comlink, turning away from your window, “spies. not just for me, not anymore, but for everyone. it’s getting darker here, in the empire. it’s not safe to talk, even now. i’ve been marked. half my department’s been marked.”
he pauses before responding. “you think they bugged your com?”
“they might’ve. i don’t know —” you begin, only to be cut off by cassian on the other end.
“i’ll be there in ten minutes.”
you frown. “are you listening to me? i said it’s not safe, i’ve been targeted! i can’t tell you anymore about the emp—”
“don’t test me. hang up your com,” cassian orders.
“you’re ridiculous.”
he scoffs, “and you’re in danger. i’m on my way.”
he said ten minutes, but he arrives at your door in eight, his hair messy and his brows tightly knit together as he looks you over. he takes hold of your arms, holds your hands briefly before letting go.
“i’m getting you out of here,” cassian mutters, “pack. now.”
“they don’t have anything on me.” regardless, you move to your bedroom, looking for a suitcase. you’d pack up just to ease his nerves, then talk him down if you could.
“you don’t know that. no suitcases — kriff’s sake, essentials,” cassian says, running a hand through his hair before walking over to you, “we’re leaving tonight.”
“i never said it was so bad i had to evacuate, cassian! if i leave, i can’t come back,” you protest, turning to face him.
“then don’t come back! stay with me, be safe.” cassian grabs hold of your shoulders, keeping a firm grasp on you as if you could disappear at any time. “look, this, us, we are more than just bodies looking for comfort, we’re something real. not just the sex but the comfort. the breakfasts, the talking, the way you smile at me and the way i hold you, it’s all real. it’s real to me.”
he leaned down, his eyes meeting yours. his gaze was intense. fraught, and yet almost reverent. he looked at you as if you held the stars in your eyes. “the empire has taken almost everything from me. even more than you know. i won’t let them take this too. you’re coming with me,” he insists, cupping your cheeks in your hands. he stares at you, waiting for a reply, biting his lip and hoping you don’t push him away.
you nod some, “okay, cassian.”
his voice, shaky and desperate, was all the persuasion you needed.
this is more exploratory but i do think cassian’s voice is sooo… ngh.. so he gets the song with the little phone call in it. ++ i think cassian’s voice wld be good for phone sex, i might write that one day. i know comlinks dont work exactly like phones but a lot of things are simplified here for convenience LOL i mostly just wanted to try portraying cassian just for funsies.
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