#f: rogue one
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This time we have a character from a new game and a character from an older game, but both in space!
Yrliet from Rogue Trader and Ashley Williams from Mass Effect.
(here for general tag / here for all round one polls)
#yrliet lanaevyss#yrliet#rogue trader#mass effect#ashley williams#tournament of rpg female romances#round one f
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Hiiiii I’ve actually never done an ask before but saw that you were hoping for some so here goes! What about a sub!Cassian fic where he and reader are coworkers who have lots of sexual tension that finally boils over when reader accidentally catches him masturbating (and then joins in on the fun). May I humbly request that he begs her to sit on his face 🤭
Cassi Baby
Sub!Cassian Andor x F!Reader
Main Masterlist | Cassian Andor Masterlist
Summary: You’re a member of the rebellion at the base on Yavin 4 serving under Captain Cassian Andor. There’s always been tension between the two of you but for the sake of the rebellion neither of you pursued it. But when you stop at his room to ask him a question the tension finally comes to a head.
Word count: 1.6k
Warnings: reader is able-bodied, mutual pining, masturbation, face sitting, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, dom/sub vibes, creampie, no use of y/n
You’ve been stationed on Yavin 4 with the rebellion for a few months now. Mon Mothma, Bail Organa and the other council members are leading the meeting at the base. You’re gathered in the headquarters with everyone and while you should be focusing on what’s being said, you’re focused on a certain someone across the room; Captain Cassian Andor.
You completely tune out whatever Mon Mothma is saying as your gaze fixates on Cassian. He’s paying attention to the meeting; brows furrowed in concentration and arms folded. His own gaze bounces between Mothma, Organa and the other members of the council depending on who’s speaking. And that’s when he catches you staring right at him. He raises an eyebrow at you before his facial expression shifts to a knowing look; the corner of his mouth tucked up into a light smirk. You mirror the same expression back to him and hope no one else in the room catches on.
Before you know it the meeting’s over and you didn’t absorb anything. You’re snapped out of your thoughts when everyone around you starts leaving. He breaks eye contact with you and slips through the doorway among the others. And that little interaction sums up yours and Cassian’s dynamic has been like.
There’s been tension between you two since the day you met him. But neither of you have acted on it. You always assumed he was too professional to do anything about it… or that he doesn’t feel the same way. And you’re simply too shy and intimidated to make the first move. So for months you’ve been stuck in this limbo of longing stares, lingering touches, and unspoken words.
You return back to your room, thinking about what the meeting could’ve been about but also thinking about Cassian. And that’s when something comes over you and your legs are moving before your mind can fully decide whether or not this is a good idea. You walk to Cassian’s room, but for totally innocent purposes. Just to ask him to summarize the meeting for you, nothing more.
You walk to his room and knock on his door, anxiously awaiting his reaction. Will he be happy to see you? Or will he just be annoyed? Maybe you’re just bothering him? You’re coming to see him for professional reasons so there shouldn’t be anything complicated about this. And yet here you are nervous to just ask him a question.
There’s no answer for a while so you go to leave, feeling disappointed. As you’re just about to turn away, the door opens. But he’s not standing in the doorway. You freeze, stuck between two options. You could leave and mind your business. Or you could enter his room without him ever saying you could come in… which feels like a violation of privacy.
But just like earlier your body starts moving before your mind can catch up and you walk into his room, the door sliding shut behind you. There’s a curtain separating the room into two spaces. The front half being sort of a living space and storage area. And the back half you assume is where he sleeps. The curtain is drawn and this is where you really should back off and mind your business.
You don’t though. Instead you softly ask, “Cassian?”
He doesn’t answer so you move closer and place your head by the curtain, listening closely for a response or some sort of sign he’s okay. And that’s when you hear what you think is a groan. Shit, maybe he’s sick. You feel like you should check on him.
But when he lets out another groan followed by your name in a breathy tone, that’s when you decide to just open the curtain and see what’s going on. You peel back the curtain and to your complete and utter shock Cassian’s fine; not just fine, he’s in his bed with his hand around his cock and a humiliated expression on his face.
“I’m sorry!” he says quickly, removing his hand from his cock and hastily trying to put it away.
“Huh? Why are you apologizing?”
“...Because you had to see that.”
“Who said I didn’t want to?” you playfully ask, stepping closer to him.
“Wh-what?!” he says, completely puzzled.
You sit down on the foot of the bed and ask, “What were you thinking about?”
His mind short circuits at your bold question, letting out a string of confused sputtering before finishing with, “W-why do you want to know?”
“I think I have a pretty good idea… but I just wanted to hear you say it.”
“W-What did you hear?” he asks, looking more mortified by the second.
“My name.”
He closes his eyes in embarrassment and groans, cheeks turning bright red.
“Cassi baby, did you need my help?”
His eyes fly open and he couldn’t say please fast enough. But just as you go to grab his cock he quickly whispers, “Sit on my face. Please.”
“What’s that? Is Captain Cassian Andor begging for me to sit on his face?”
He whimpers a little in response. With a sly grin on your face you stand up from the bed, sliding your pants off. He moves lower on the bed so you have room to straddle him. You get on top of him and inch yourself up to face. He sighs at the contact of your warm sex against his nose and mouth. You hover just a little bit, feeling a little self conscious about the smell and taste of you. But the truth is he can’t get enough.
“More, please,” he moans against your inner thigh.
So you sink down a little more and let yourself fully sit on his face. You turn your head and look over your shoulder to get a glance at what he’s doing. And to your delight he returned to stroking his cock. You rock your hips back and forth against his face, his nose rubbing your clit and his tongue lapping at your entrance. You reach your hand down to his hair, gripping his locks as you pick up the pace. He strokes himself at the feeling of your soaking wet cunt on his face. You feel your thighs tense up and you know you’re at the brink of orgasm. With one last movement of your hips you come undone, soaking the lower half of his face. He moans underneath you, eyes closed in pleasure. You turn your head again and get a glimpse of what’s behind you; his hand wrapped around his cock and coated in ropes of cum. The waistband and fly of his pants are covered in his release, too. You get off his face and stand on the floor with shaky legs. The look on his face is one of euphoria but also disbelief; disbelief that this is really happening to him.
“Ready for round two?” you ask, pulling your shirt off over your head.
“Round two?!” he says, sitting up.
You place your hands on your hips. “Unless you don’t think you can go again.”
“No! No, I can,” he says quickly.
“Good. Now get undressed.”
He stands up to take off his clothes, tossing them in a pile on the floor. He looks to you for further instructions.
“On your back again, Cassi.”
He does what he’s told and lays back down on the bed for you. You straddle him and sink down onto his cock, letting it hit the deepest angle inside you before you start moving. You grind your hips against him and place your hands on his chest. His eyes roam your form from your waist to your breasts to your face.
A devious expression spreads out onto his face and he says, “You like riding your captain’s cock?”
As hot as that was, he’s not the dominant one right now. You stop moving your hips much to his dismay and lean forward to bring your face near his.
“What was that? Are you trying to be dominant? Remember you’re the one who begged for me to sit on your face,” you say, sass laced in your voice.
“Fine… Please keep going,” he whines.
“That’s what I thought,” you smugly before returning yourself upright and moving your hips again.
He grabs your waist as you fuck yourself on his cock, his hands gripped the soft skin tightly as he gets closer to the edge. Your own orgasm ripples through your core spreading outwards and your cunt flutters around him. He revels in the feeling of you coming around him before letting go himself, painting your insides with his warm release. You pull yourself off of him and lay down on the bed beside him, both of you staying silent. The disbelief is kicking in for both of you, but especially you this time since the dominant energy is wearing off.
“So… What did you come to my room for?” he asks softly.
“Uhh, just to ask you to summarize the meeting.”
“Why? You were there,” he says. You can tell by his voice that he’s smirking.
“I was just… distracted,” you say, turning to face him.
“Distracted by your captain?” he asks with a shit-eating grin.
“Shut up!” you laugh, playfully slapping him on the arm, “You can be the dominant one next time, I guess.”
“Stop by anytime,” he says, pulling you into the crook of his neck.
“Okay, Cassi baby.”
He groans. You couldn’t resist.
Follow @beskarandblastersfics and turn on post notifications to be notified when I post a new fic!
Cassian tag list: @wannab-urs @readingfan @dinsdjrn @twirl731 @gingaaaaa @thesoftdumbass @hellomoonlightluna @septimaseverina @pedritosdarling @vibrantbirdy @radcollectivesoul @lunapascal
#cassian andor x reader#cassian andor x f!reader#cassian andor x you#cassian andor smut#cassian andor#star wars fanfiction#star wars rogue one#star wars#andor#cassian andor fanfiction
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#F A C E#Andrew Lincoln#*#andygifs#one day your lips will not make me want to bust through a wall like the koolaid man#but today is not that day#hey hey nice eyeballs#time to drown#*david attenborough voice* THE SUN#excuse me but The Nose™#the mold broke.....no it didn't you couldn't even make such a mold#rogue neck fuzzies 💙#his face is so soothing#bless all the lines on your face they're beautiful and sacred
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Saturday Seven 03
Fandom: Star Wars
Pairing : Cassian Andor x F!Reader
Request: No.
Summaries: From this prompt; "You are hot when you are angry."
Warning: Mention of fungus and virus. Bad Writing? Using Y/N. Implying 18+ at the end.
Rate: T
Words: 390
A/N: Finally, I can drag myself to write my own challenging. A little bit change about devider, because the old one is too big.
🌹Click to My AO3
(Divider by @saradika)
“Cassian Jeron Andor!” Y/N shouted out loudly from the bathroom in her and Cassian’s quarter, on Hoth base. She knew she was not supposing to be furious towards him, but this time she really pissed of what he had done. It is just like his second nature before they married.
“What is it, love?” Cassian, who was wearing and apron and standing at the small area, where they could prepare and cook simple meals. He turned around, seeing that she grabbed his towel in her hand. He knew the consequence, sweet and innocence smiling for her should calm her down. But it did not help at all.
“How many times I tell you not to hang your towel in bathroom after you taking a shower!” Y/N frowned, trying not to look into his pair of those big brown eyes (and the glistening in them, sometimes). They almost got her every single time. “Your wet towel is gonna grow toxic fungus! And don’t make me mentioning about bacteria and germs! Are you a nine years old boy…”
Cassian didn’t argue or bicker back like previous. Today was his day-off. He had planned for a long time on spending the precious time with Y/N, nothing could worsen his mood today. He smiled at her while listening to her complaining. His delightful expression made her quirking her eyebrows – demanding for the reason why today he was unusual.
“You know, you are hot when you are angry.” His voice was flirtatious. Just like he said. Her eyebrows, her redden face, her mouth’s thing and her behaviour – it might not amenity in others’ attitude – but for him, they were adorable and pleasant.
“This is not the time, Cass. I really mean it! Do not charm your way out off trouble! The temperature here is proper, it makes fungus spreading and causing virus!” She continually complained, suddenly she was hugged by Cassian. His pointy nose on her cheeks, while his stubble tickling her jawline and the neck. “Cassian! Stop!”
“If you want me to stop, try me, darling.” Cassian saw that she was doing nothing but be grumpy. Finally, he smirked, carrying her onto his shoulder and ignoring her protesting, from a small kitchen to their bed. Of course, she did not stop yelling until he peppered the kisses all over her face and her lips.
Tag : @starwarsficnetwork
#dance me to the end of queue#star wars fanfiction#rogue one fanfiction#cassian andor#cassian andor fanfiction#cassian andor x reader#cassian andor x f!reader#cassian andor x female reader#cassian andor x you#female reader#reader insert#diego luna x reader#septimaseverinawannawrite#saturday seven
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rogue one isnt a horror movie but it sure feels like one when im screaming NO DONT GO at bail organa leaving to go back to alderaan
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STRENGTH AMONG STARS | JEHAATIR (untruth)
a/n: i am making it a goal to post a new chapter every week for this fic. i've never done it before, but hopefully i can actually complete this goal. i'm so excited for where it's about to go (not just because i adore rogue one) but absolutely because i love rogue one. there are also hints in here revolving another star wars character i adore as well! so i hope y'all enjoy!
summary: as jedha is destroyed, you rush to escape. only to land on eadu, intent on stopping one man's mission. but when things go wrong and your mind starts playing tricks on you...you're left to uncover a defining truth about yourself.
word count: 5.1k+
pairing: din djarin x fem!reader (force sensitive)
warnings: not explicit, angst so much angst, a bit of violence, cussing, more angst, and some hints at the future.
previous chapter | next chapter | series masterlist
Stuck in a cell is not how you imagined your life would go. After years of doing your duty, of training to be a Guardian of the Whills and trying to keep the last part of the Jedi safe, it had been ruined. The Empire took over with their new need and interest in Kyber crystals and you were forced out of the temple. You could still recall the faint taste of blaster residue in the air as they took the temple for themselves, in the only way they knew how. Through violence.
There was nowhere to go, no purpose out of life now, and so you were left to deal with the aftermath of things. To somehow find a way past all of the heartache and pain that had been caused on your home—on the people around it. Chirrut remained with you, along with Baze, but all that there would be was just the ruins of what you used to have. A former life that you couldn’t let go, and neither could he. That was all you knew growing up, all that you had to call your own, and now there would be no way to get it back thanks to the Empire and the destruction they brought with them.
Except now you were stuck in a cell as you waited for the next great plan of the two people who dragged you into a new fight. He said his name was Cassian, a Captain for the Rebellion and while you agreed to go with Chirrut, to help them you couldn’t deny that this was a mistake overall. That old feeling, the one you pushed away over the years until it faded had returned, except now it was stronger. The tug in your body that told you to get away from Jedha, to go somewhere else, but you could no longer listen to it, because you were damned to a cell.
Chirrut spoke to the Captain, but you weren’t listening, choosing instead to focus on that feeling again. Trying your best to figure out what it was. Only the more you pulled it towards you, tried to grasp onto it, the more that it faded away. A tempting offer of power, of hope, and yet you weren’t able to reach a single piece of it. What the feeling was you’d never be able to tell, but all you knew was that there was a part of you, somewhere deep down that knew no matter what, you had to reach it. That the feeling was both a part of you as well as everything else around you.
“You mustn’t fight it.” Chirrut had turned to face you.
“Fight what?” You knew he meant that unknown mysterious feeling that continued to creep up the back of your spine. The one that seemed to haunt you constantly for no reason as to why.
“I can see what you are trying to do, and you must not fight it.” He motioned for you to breathe in deeply and you followed suit knowing he’d chastise you if you didn’t. “In order to connect to the Force you have to accept it.”
You shook your head, rubbing at your forehead. “I wasn’t trying to-”
“Don’t lie.” He knew; he always knew. You were raised by Chirrut, taught the ways of life, of how to protect yourself and those around you. He could read you better than you could read yourself.
Falling back against the rocky wall you could feel the defeated feeling wash over you again. Stuck in a cell. That’s how you would end up spending your remaining time in this graveyard of a home that you once held so dear to you. With the remains of what you knew strewn about the place. Things were meant to be different, but instead they continued to get worse. Continuing to take away any small piece of hope you had left within you.
“I don’t–” Taking in a breath you felt the sting of tears that wished to fall. But you refused to let them; not after everything you endured. This would not be what broke you. “I don’t see how I can connect to it. I am not like them, Chirrut.”
He smiled slightly. “Like who exactly?”
“Jedi. I am not one of them.”
Shuffling closer with the allotted room, he came to sit in front of you, hands resting on his knees, the staff placed across them as well. “One does not need to be a Jedi to feel the Force. It is very possible without. But do not doubt where you come from.”
“How am I supposed to doubt it if I don’t know where that is?”
“Did I not raise you young one?” he asked, bringing your attention to him fully. “Did I not train you to be like me? A Guardian? Where you were born, is not the place you come from.”
You knew he was right. Knew that you didn’t belong to the place you were born, but rather to the place that you once called home. The temple would always be your home, no matter where you ended up in this galaxy, even in this small cell it stayed that way. So, you sat upright choosing not to focus on the chaos the Captain was causing with the man in the cell next to you, and closed your eyes.
Small faint pieces of light were in front of you and you waded through what seemed like endless darkness to get to them. The world tuned out, the chaos turned to calm, and suddenly you could feel it; that one feeling you’d been grasping for after so long. It enveloped you, breathed life into you and everything around you, but you could also see something else.
Chirrut’s voice echoed in the back of your mind, something about coming back, but you were too far out. There would be no way to return in such a quick amount of time, and so you remained where you were. Surrounded by the light as you looked up and attempted to make out what was in the sky. Stars were the first thing you could see, their light mixing with the entity that surrounded you, but then beyond that, beyond the hope sat a circular object tainted with nothing but darkness. You could feel it seep into your bones, into everything around you, and all you wanted to do was escape.
Opening your eyes with a ragged gasp, you were pulled back to reality by Chirrut’s hands yanking you up into a standing position. You followed him out of the now open cell, but after what you saw, you knew that you had to get out of there.
“We have to go,” you gasped. “Something’s here.”
He tossed you the staff you built like his long ago as well as a blaster that came from the Captain’s pack. “I know.”
Perhaps he’d sensed it, or seen it somehow. You wouldn’t be able to say, because you were already running out of the place following Chirrut and Baze. The entrance was nearby, only a few feet away, when you felt it. The tug in your gut, filling your entire body until all you could do was wait for the inevitable to happen. A slight tremor in the ground shook the place where you stood, growing larger with every wave, until you had trouble staying upright.
“They’re destroying it,” you whispered to no one in particular.
He heard you anyway. “We must go!”
“What about them?” Someone ran your way, one of Saw Gerrera’s men. You kicked up your staff ready to defend yourself if necessary, but he was already falling to the floor due to Chirrut slamming his own staff into his back.
“They will make it in time. We must go.” He didn’t bother to say anything more and you were meant to follow. What would happen if you didn’t find a way to get off this moon? Would you become a part of the ruins of your home? Become dust just as the memory and legacy of the Jedi did?
“What if they don’t get out?” you shouted.
It seemed that all your questions would be answered in a matter of minutes, because the Captain and the woman he brought with him sprinted out just as you asked. They didn’t wait for you, nor should they, because you were following them as soon as they were out. If you could not be a Guardian for the kyber crystals anymore, you would be a protector for those who needed it most.
However, as much as you prepared for this feeling that had haunted you all those years. Of peace no longer remaining that way, you still lost your breath when it all came to pass. The sight in front of you shattered what little strength you had left—what hope you held in your heart, because you could no longer see the horizon. Nothing remained of it except the ground that now floated in front of you as they destroyed your home, the one thing you had left.
You nearly came to a stop at the sight, willing yourself to keep running, to get off this moon and get somewhere safe. There would be nothing left for you here, but in a way there never was. Not since the Empire stripped you of your duty and forced you out of the one sanctuary you had. Nothing held you here any longer, but the bittersweet feeling of having to say goodbye to the only place you knew broke your heart.
“Go, get on!” the Captain shouted as he sprinted past you.
Leaping onto the ship you helped boost up those who needed it before collapsing onto the ground near the door. An Imperial droid sat up front near the controls, but you couldn’t worry about that. Instead, you turned your attention to the sight of Jedha slowly being turned to ash—to a desecrate piece of rock. You couldn’t hold back the tears anymore—didn’t want to—and so you continued to watch. Even as the ship took off into space, you watched as bits of the moon floated into the emptiness of; the home you had, forever destroyed.
What was there to do now but grieve?
You knew that Chirrut could feel the heartache, the same pain as he felt the moon vanish. No life would be left there—nothing but another graveyard that you both had to come from. How much more of this could you possibly endure? You wouldn’t know, but for now, you wiped the stray tears from your cheeks and settled in for what you assumed would be a long journey. Wherever they were taking you, it didn’t seem like a good idea. Yet none of this was a good idea to begin with.
Closing your eyes, you leaned your head back against the metal wall and hoped for some semblance of sleep. A few hours should give you enough time to feel rested and ready to go. For now, you couldn’t focus on the pain of losing everything. All you willed yourself to do was remember that you still held onto your family—the two people who you knew most in life. Chirrut and Baze lived on and for now...that was enough.
The same feeling from earlier tugged at your gut, pulling you towards whatever light remained and you willingly went along. Chose to follow the light rather than the dark, because the darkness was more than you could bear. It whispered its promises to you—begged you to just give into the pain—but you didn’t wish to have that for your life. Refused to subject yourself to those horrors that awaited you.
Light flowed through you, pushing and pulling all in unison until you felt like you were floating. You supposed that sleep had finally overcome you, because images, voices, places you’d never seen nor been to flooded your mind and you allowed it to happen. Gave into it, because it seemed that only in dreams could you find your light.
“Don’t touch that,” a voice you never heard before echoed in your mind.
“Maybe he likes to play with it, because it reminds him of you...” you replied.
A blurry sight of a man wearing a helmet, turning towards you followed the voices. “He might try to swallow it.”
You were shifting to face a small green creature in a seat, holding a metal ball to his chest. Swallow it? No. You could tell exactly why he wanted it, and could hear the voice of the creature in your head. How? You didn’t know, but it echoed loud and clear as if he was talking directly next to you. He said hello in a soft voice.
“He won’t swallow it,” you murmured, tugging lightly on the creature’s ear, earning a small smile in return from him.
“And you know this how?” The man turned back to whatever he was doing. You couldn’t see beyond him, as if that part of the dream was cut off to you, forcing you to remain in this small moment of peace.
Smiling once more you felt the calm wash over you, giving you something to hold onto. That lost feeling of hope you thought you’d never get back, finally returning and filling your lungs with air. At last, you could breathe again, and feel some part of yourself returning.
“I just do,” you said softly.
Someone tapping your foot stirred you from your dream and brought you back to reality. No longer were you sitting speaking to someone you didn’t know, nor were you attempting to talk to the creature whose name you didn’t catch. Instead, you were back on the ship, back to the reality of a lost home and a new journey on your hands. Chirrut was speaking to the woman who’s name you also didn’t get while Baze made sure you stayed awake.
“Where are we?” you asked groggily, sitting up fully and blinking the sleep from your eyes.
“Eadu,” Baze replied.
“Eadu? I thought we were going to the Rebel base.” You got to your feet and grabbed your staff, seeing that one person was missing in the ship. “Where’d he go?”
Chirrut turned in your direction. “I believe he went to complete his mission.”
“Mission?” you asked, seeing the woman had disappeared as well. Realization dawned on you the second you saw Chirrut open the ship door and get out to follow them. He liked to put himself in the battle, to help people, just like you did, but this was different. This felt different.
Trying to think back to what would have made Chirrut go after the pilot in the first place, you came up blank except for one thing in particular. The Force focused itself around someone who is about to kill—or at least that’s what you’ve been taught your whole life. Realization hit you slower than you would have liked but you were already moving from where you stood. Maker they were going after her father, and you seemed to be the only one with sense enough to remain there on the ship.
“I don’t like it, but Cassian said to stay put.” The droid’s voice came out of nowhere causing you to jump. “They should have just given me a blaster. I could have helped them,” he mumbled.
“He’s going to kill her father...” You knew that you weren’t the only one with that information already, and it had you reaching for the blaster you held earlier. Jumping out into the pouring rain, you didn’t bother with covering up, knowing that you would dry eventually.
The droid called after you, but there would be no point in going back. Chirrut was following the woman and you were going after the pilot. No death would be had today—not if you had any say in the matter, but just as everything happened in the universe, you never had a true say. Not even things that concerned people you cared for. You knew in your heart that Chirrut and Baze would be okay where they were. They had faced far worse. But the pilot, the woman…the fear came off of them in waves. It seeped into the air around them, just as the rain did.
“No one has any fucking sense,” you muttered out, climbing the hill.
Except you froze where you stood, the sounds of battle echoing in the air around you and bringing you back to that feeling of dread earlier that never went away. Forget the pilot—forget the woman—you had to get back to where Chirrut was. Gripping your staff, you sprinted down the hill, trying your best not to slip on the way down and nearly failing. But the need to get to your family overruled your body's wants at this point. So you continued on your way until you saw the flash of orange in the distance, illuminating the rain and rocky towers.
“Chirrut!” you shouted. “Baze!”
Another explosion rattled even you as what looked like X-Wings flew over your head and towards wherever the trouble was. You shut your eyes, focusing on that feeling again, desperately trying to reach it, and hoping with everything in you that the people you loved were safe. All of the chaos around you quieted down to a low hum until you were very aware of the rain hitting your face—soaking into your clothes. Until you could see every stone and pebble on the planet, and you pushed farther, past the point of want into pure need.
“Jyn! We have to go!” the voice of Cassian hit your ears.
“No! I can’t leave him!” the woman shouted over the rain.
“Listen to me. He’s gone.”
You could see them. See her clutching the face of the man who lay on the ground, the life gone from his eyes. You watched as she was dragged away, the heartbreak and pain in her eyes a sight that you knew far too well. The sight hit you in the chest, causing you to reach out to them, but then you felt it. The utter dread from earlier, the fear—all the things you wished to stay away from rush towards you—overwhelming your senses. You were trapped in a pit of nothingness. No longer could you feel the rain or see the planet, let alone them. You shoved your way through it; did everything you could to get away.
The feeling stuck to you, tried to sink into your skin like something that wished to own you. A gasp left your lips as you continued to fight against it, trying to untangle yourself from its grasp, but it was stronger than you could have imagined. The Force dug its way into you, begged, pleaded, pushed into your mind, to your heart.
Just when you were ready to give in, allow it to take over you could see a faint light in the endless sea of darkness. What looked like a hand reaching out towards you? Without a second thought you grasped onto it—felt it drag you out from the darkness.
Falling back onto the ground, the breath rushing into your lungs, you tried to calm the panic that filled your veins. Whoever it was that dragged you out of that pit, they could feel you just as you felt them. Almost as if you were touching their actual hand and you raised your own, staring at the lines in your palm, hoping for answers. But just like everything else…you would get no answers to the questions locked in your mind. Instead, you’d just have to continue to push away the debilitating fear until you no longer felt it.
Chirrut’s voice called back to you as he came down the hill. “Are you okay?”
“What happened?” you asked, scrambling to your feet.
“Are you okay?” He was demanding an answer from you, that much you knew.
Nodding you took in a breath. “I’m okay. I went looking for you and–”
A ship descended behind you and you readied yourself to grab your weapon, but Chirrut’s hand came out to stop you. Cassian and Jyn came up behind you, running with blasters in hand and shouting at you to move—to get on the ship. What choice did you have but to follow? Spinning on your heel you rushed up the ramp, beginning to feel the fatigue from your battle wane on your body. Whatever that force was—whatever it did—you felt as if you could sleep for another day without fail.
Everyone remained silent as the ship went into hyperspace, the grief hanging in the air over everyone’s heads. You looked at Jyn, saw as she stared into space, a look of nothingness in her eyes. An expression you’d worn before. She lost her father, and you watched it happen, unable to do anything but stand there. If only you could help, could do something besides see what you did not wish to bear witness to. But that’s not how things worked.
“You were there to kill my father, weren’t you?” she muttered in Cassian’s direction.
He held no answers, but you could see it. The Force that slowly faded away from him—from his body after the ordeal that went down. There would be no going back from that. No excuses as to why he was there in the first place and even you didn’t wish to know. A pain in your head began to slowly spread its way through your body until you couldn’t discern reality from dreams again. Except you let it happen once more, because it felt better than fighting to stay awake.
“You fought well,” a voice said in your mind.
Could you respond? You weren’t sure. It felt like everything in your body was slowly being pulled apart and put back together simultaneously. But there was no pain in this action, only a tug here and there, a light flashing once in a while.
“This is just the beginning,” he said.
“Who are you?” you called out into the darkness.
Nothing but silence echoed back, but you knew that he hadn’t left. At least not yet. No, he still remained somewhere in this place. Wherever you were. Reaching a hand out you tried to feel for something, anything that would give you a sign that you weren’t alone. That this—whatever it was—wasn't dangerous towards you.
“You’ll figure that out soon enough.”
Figure out what? A flash of blue lit up the area around you, until you could finally see something in front of you. Except you couldn’t see his face, couldn’t discern anything except what looked like a blue sword, glowing in front of you. There was something about the weapon—a certain familiarity to it that had you reaching out for it. What was it about this that drew you closer? That had you wanting to connect to it? But then you understood.
“Kyber,” you whispered.
“A Jedi’s weapon relies on it,” he replied, giving you a moment to take all of this in. “But a lightsaber doesn’t make you a Jedi.”
You knew that already from the stories told to you by Chirrut. Growing up he regaled you with them nightly as you continued to make your wish to the stars. Kyber is what a lightsaber relied on, but you’d never seen one in person, let alone one that felt familiar. Perhaps you were truly dreaming, the exhaustion having gone to your head to a point of hallucinations. That had to be it.
“Who are you?” you asked again. “I feel like I know you...”
The saber was turned off—the light disappearing until nothing but darkness remained once more. He must not have liked the question. Where did you know him from? He felt like an old friend. Someone you should know. The more you dug in your mind for a name, for something other than just emptiness, the more you realized that there were no answers. To any of this. If you knew him, you wouldn’t be able to say how, or when.
“Protect yourself,” he said, his voice beginning to fade into the distance. “Trust only in the Force. It has the answers you’re looking for.”
The ship jolting woke you from whatever dream you were having. You could feel your energy slowly returning to your body, but you didn’t worry about that. Instead, you tried to remember the person who you dreamed of. The voice sounded extremely familiar to you even now as it echoed in your mind. Trust only in the Force? What did he mean by that? The doors opened and you shot to your feet getting ready to head off, but a staff blocked your way.
“What’s going on?” you asked with a smile. “Am I in trouble?”
He waited until the others shuffled off the ship leaving just the two of you. He didn’t say anything else—didn’t tell you what to do—just sat down slowly on one of the cargo bins that the Empire had on before. You could feel something was wrong and part of you didn’t wish for him to say it; wished for him to keep it from you. Yet there would be no keeping from you the things that you had to know. You knew that as well as him.
“When you were born...” His words had you already collapsing onto the bin across from him. “I knew you were different.”
“Chirrut–”
He held up a hand for you to stay silent. “Your mother was young when she gave you to us. And she only had one promise that she was adamant we keep. That you know who you truly are when you are ready to choose.”
Your mother... You couldn’t even fathom the words he was saying to you, but nonetheless he continued.
“There is a reason I always told you to trust in the Force young one. I’ve known for a long time...but something tells me that you know it as well now too.” He heard your sharp intake of breath.
The tears stung your eyes as they fell down your cheeks. “Yes, I know,” you whispered. What had been speculation to you—nothing but utter dreams—was now being revealed to you as the truth. And as much as you wished to deny it, you could no longer do that. You knew that to deny it was to push away everything that made you who you are.
“Do you remember the piece of kyber you carry around with you? The one that you picked up whilst walking through the caves?” he asked.
The same piece hung around your neck on a leather strand. When you were younger, a crystal had called out to you for some unknown reason, and you picked it up. Held it to you and felt that it was yours even before you had touched it. Chirrut told you to keep it with you at all times, to protect it as if it were the most precious thing you would own, because at the time you didn’t know that it in fact was.
“Kyber does not choose just anyone. It called out to you because of what you are. I was not meant to be your teacher for very long, but then again you were never meant to be a Guardian of the Whills.” He reached forward, searching for your hand until he found it and gripped it in his. “You are meant for much more than you know, young one.”
Letting out a choked sob, you smiled at him, gripping onto his hand for dear life. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
Now it was his turn to smile. “I had a promise to keep.” He stood, pulling you up with him. “You are ready to choose your own way.”
“And what about you? Baze? What about the fight?”
He chuckled, walking out of the ship with you in tow. “This fight will continue for many more years than even I. For now, choose to learn more about what you should be, what you always were.”
“Is this you saying goodbye to me Chirrut?” you asked softly.
Turning towards you, he tapped his staff twice on the ground just as he always did; the sound a comfort to you now. “Goodbye? No. You only have to look through the Force to find me, young one.”
“What about what I am?”
“You are afraid.” He could point it out when you didn’t want him to, but at this point you didn’t mind it. “Don’t be. Jedi fear nothing.”
The word caused your breath to catch in your throat. Jedi. Jedi. Jedi. You repeated it over and over again in your head, but still it felt wrong to say, to even think about. You? A Jedi? Part of you expected to see Chirrut burst into laughter and tell you that he was telling another story, but even you knew that this was reality. Everything you questioned—everything you wondered about—it all clicked together seamlessly until finally you felt whole.
Another wave of hot tears spilled over onto your cheeks as one more realization dawned on you. “I’m going to miss you,” you whispered.
He pulled you closer, wrapping his arms tightly around you and giving you a comfort, you would miss. One last memory to hold onto as you did your best to find your path in life. Your path as a Jedi. You dug your forehead into his shoulder, letting a sob go as the pain from the day, from leaving, and having to say goodbye to so much hit you all at once. But he didn’t say anything against it. Instead he continued to let you cry as much as you wished, because in a way…he was saying goodbye to the only child he’d ever had.
The only child he could call his.
“The Force is with me,” he said as you pulled away.
Wiping at your eyes you smiled at him. “And I am one with the Force.”
“And may the Force be with you always,” he replied.
Perhaps this wasn’t truly goodbye. At least that’s what you hoped. Except the truth hung in the air, finally spoken aloud for all to hear. You had a path in life, something to call yours, and as you gripped your staff in your hands, watching as Chirrut walked away towards the entrance of the base. You knew that this would be the right choice for you. The way you were meant to go.
The way of the Jedi.
#din djarin x reader#din djarin x jedi!reader#din djarin x you#din djarin x y/n#din djarin x f!reader#din djarin#the mandalorian#the mandalorian x you#rogue one#my writing
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Presence
Okay, who do I think I am starting a Cassian Andor series?!
Anyway, this is the first part. Stupidly nervous about this. Cassian is hard to write. Star Wars is hard for me to write. But I like challenging myself as a writer.
This is “Presence” - part one.
Cassian Andor x RebelMedNurse
This can be read as a reader insert, but fair warning my reader inserts are much more OCs. Minor reader description. TBH I just love writing in 2nd POV, so I will be describing the “reader” a little here and there but overall, keeping it vague!
Summary: You’re a med nurse on Yavin 4 and you’re terrified of Captain Cassian Andor. His reputation precedes him, obviously. But as you get to know the intimidating rebel leader, you’re surprised at what you find.
Wordcount: 3.4k
Warnings: slight reader description, swearing, mentions of death, slow burn, angst. eventual smut? maybe? light smut eventually? idk rn. HAPPY ENDING BC LIFE IS HARD AND ROGUE ONE IS V SAD AND BEAUTIFUL BUT I NEED COMFORT RN. all my work is 18+, minors DNI
The first time Captain Cassian Andor comes to you in the medical center on Yavin 4, you’re so tired you can barely keep your eyes open.
It’s not your preferred way to meet the highly respected and incredibly intimidating rebel captain, but a crew got in late the night before from a mission that resulted in more broken bones and open wounds than you could count. You haven’t slept. You’ve been running from bed to bed, making sure the operatives are stable and healing. You’ve applied more bacta than you can remember in recent memory, and your medisensor is going to need a new power pack any second.
So you try not to be too hard on yourself when you’re told to treat Captain Andor for a deep cut across his chest, and you’re humiliated immediately at your state. He’s Cassian Andor, after all. Famous within the ranks of the Rebel Alliance, his reputation precedes him. You’ve heard through the few gossiping nurses in the messhall that he’s a deadly assassin and spy and his body count is unmatched. You remember feeling sick and pushing your caf away upon hearing that last part.
You know everyone loves (or fears) Cassian Andor, but as you walk into the med room where he’s sitting on a cot waiting for you, you’re nervous. You’re a nurse in the Alliance, after all - your one job is to keep everyone alive. It seems to be in direct contradiction to everything Andor stands for: death for the cause is unavoidable. It is what it is, seems to be the way of men like Andor.
Which is fine. It should be fine, at least. You’re not a fool. You’re not so naive that you expect some storybook version of what is actually happening - you know death is inevitable, especially for the cause. You know that you are as replaceable as any meddroid - sure, organic medical personnel are fewer and farther between than meddroids in the Alliance, but you are not special. You are not worthy of life anymore than anyone else. You are a cog in the rebel machine. You know what you’ve signed up for.
This knowledge doesn’t make things in war easier to stomach, though.
Since you are a living, breathing human med nurse, you are forced to go into battle. You are on rotation for missions, and you’ve seen the bloodshed and death close-up. You’ve stitched together dying men and women, dying Twi’leks and Rodians, and everything in between.
Loss is embedded in the vey fabric of your being.
It still hurts, though.
So when you look upon Cassian Andor, you are nervous.
He, however, looks like he’s in a shit ton of pain.
Andor hisses and cringes as he adjusts the grip he has on his uniform, clutching the front of it where red blossoms out. Along with his chest wound, he’s pretty banged up: there’s a layer of dirt and grime across the bridge of his slightly crooked nose, his hair is going every which way, he has a beard that looks like it needs trimming, and the beginnings of a bruise on his cheek. You make a mental note to run a diagnostic on his entire person after you’ve tended to the cut that appears to continue bleeding.
“Captain Andor,” you say, grateful that your voice is steady. When his eyes flick up to you, you’re ashamed that your own immediately flick down to the datapad in your hand. You look over his chart. You hate that you’re nervous. “While on your mission you experienced a laceration across your chest? And you landed back on base at 0600?”
Andor grunts a noise of assent and you lift your eyes from the datapad. You’re startled to see he’s looking at you. His eyes are very dark. You have to physically refrain from gulping.
“The medic in the field couldn’t assist with the wound?” Your question hangs for a moment. You see Andor’s jaw tense.
He does his best impression of a shrug - the most he can do in his current condition.
“There was no time,” he says and you immediately notice the rasp to his voice. It’s a low voice, his accent lilting, and Maker this man is terrifying, honestly. You tell yourself to get it together. You tell yourself it’s because you’re so tired, it’s like you’re running on fumes. You tell yourself these things to keep from facing the truth: you’re afraid of Captain Cassian Andor.
You nod, setting down the datapad on the counter, and turn to put on your medical gloves. You take your sonic scalpel into your hand and face Andor again. He’s really doing his best to not show how much pain he’s in, and for a moment your intimidation of him is replaced by annoyance.
Men, you think, internally scoffing. At the end of the day, they’re all the same.
“I’ll need to sonic your uniform off to access the wound without further disturbing it,” you explain, pulling a stool over and sitting down, knee-to-knee with Andor. He nods. “Can you lie down for me?”
He does as he’s told and you’re grateful. You’re not sure what you expected - maybe him putting up a fight? Demoralizing you? Not letting you do your job? You think that’s not very fair of you, all these assumptions about this man. But - again - all you know is that he’s a ruthless killer and spy. These things make him a great rebel warrior. They do not necessarily mean they make him a great man.
When Andor is lying on his back, you begin to sonic open the front of his uniform. He hisses.
“Sorry,” you mutter, your nerves fleeing once you’re actually doing your job. It’s what makes you an exceptional nurse. You can laser-focus on a task, and everything else becomes background noise.
He clears his throat as you work through the front seam.
“No need to apologize,” he says, his voice a bit strained. “You’re doing your job.”
Your eyes flick to his face and you see his are closed, his jaw tense. Another moment and you’ve made it to his waist. You place your sonic scalpel on a tray on the counter.
“I’m going to open your uniform now,” you say. In your experience, it’s always best to narrate everything you’re doing to a patient. “That way I can see how bad the damage is.”
He nods imperceptibly and your hands take the fabric gently, pushing it on either side of his torso as far as possible. Somewhere, in the very back of your mind, you register that Cassian Andor has a very nice chest. Then, you immediately reprimand that tiny whisper because it’s incredibly inappropriate. You feel ashamed you even thought of it.
The laceration itself is thankfully better than you anticipated. The meddroid who had handed you Andor’s chart - being a droid - had delivered in a monotone, so it sounded a lot worse than it actually was. While it is deeper than a graze, it is not going to leave Andor with any permanent damage.
You hold your hands above his chest and meet his eyes. “May I?”
“You really think I’m going to say no?” Andor grits out and you can’t help yourself - you breathe out a laugh. You are shocked when you see the corner of Andor’s mouth twitch upwards. Is…Captain Andor making a joke?
You raise your eyebrows at the man. “I don’t know you, sir. Maybe you would’ve.”
Now it’s Andor’s turn to bark out a laugh and it immediately turns into a groan of pain. You grimace.
“Try not to…do anything,” you mutter as you brace your left hand on the side of his torso, using your right to reach over and grab the irrigation bulb. You point the nozzle of the bulb at the end of the laceration.
“I’m going to cleanse the wound before stitching it together,” you continue to explain but you think Andor’s in so much pain that there’s no way he’s listening. “This is going to sting.”
Andor grits his teeth as you cleanse the wound and once you’re done, you notice his (very nice) chest is rising and falling rapidly - he’s short on breath from the pain. You scoot your stool closer to him - you’re in his space.
“Hanging in there, Captain?” You ask it earnestly but he shoots you a raised eyebrow.
You think he scoffs but that could also be his labored breathing.
“I’ve had much worse,” he says and you look at him, in his big brown eyes and you think I bet you have, you scary son-of-a-bitch.
You clear your throat. You continue your work. Your gloved hand presses down against Andor’s bruised torso and you see his skin jump beneath your touch. You work quickly, quietly, and focused. You know that Andor is a Very Important Person in the Alliance, so you do what you need to do, and quickly.
You’re almost through stitching him when you say, “This looks worse than it is. You’re going to make a full recovery, Captain Andor.”
He grunts, hissing when you pull the last thread through his skin. You reach over to the scissors, cutting the thread off quickly. You bite your lip as you apply bacta spray to the wound, to seal in the sutures. When you flick your eyes back to Andor, you’re surprised he’s looking at you.
You swallow. “Yes?”
He just keeps looking at you and it’s disarming. It’s like he’s studying you, like he can see into your brain and you are a little mortified.
“Thank you for sewing me up,” he tells you and you cannot for the life of you tell if he’s teasing you or earnest.
“It’s my job,” you point out and he nods and begins to sit up. You reach out to help him, your hands taking hold of his left bicep. You find yourself pushing away another incredibly inappropriate thought - that Captain Andor has a nice bicep. What is wrong with you? It’s so insanely unprofessional, you should be fired–
“I think I’m good,” Andor says and you look up at him and realize you’re still holding his arm and okay, now he is definitely teasing you because despite his bruised face you can see the mirth in his eyes. You let go of him as if he burned you with fire.
“Of course,” you say, clearing your throat. You stand up quickly as Andor uselessly tries to cover himself with his torn uniform. You avoid looking at him as you grab the datapad. “You will be cleared for combat within 48 hours.”
Andor grunts and you look over. He’s struggling to somehow cover himself with his tattered uniform. You take pity on the man, pulling a standard black tunic from a drawer.
“I think that part of your uniform is a goner,” you say. He looks at you and you hold up the med-issued tunic reserved for patients. He takes it from your hands. He winces.
“I can help you,” you say. He looks like he’s about to refuse and you refrain from rolling your eyes. “Stand up, will you?”
He stands and you hesitate for just a moment before you remove your gloves. Tossing them on medical table, your bare hands take hold of the shoulders of his ruined uniform and you slide it off his back. You’re standing behind him and you realize you’re very close to him. When his uniform is off, you throw it onto the cot and Andor turns around to face you.
And now not only are you standing close to the man, but you’re facing him as well and he doesn’t have a shirt on. You curse the slight tremor in your hands. He’s just…he’s so much and there are all these stories about him and you try so hard to pretend he’s just another operative.
He’s looking at you as he raises his arms and oh my god, are you fucking blushing? It feels like you are blushing. You avoid his gaze as you lift up on your toes to bring the black tunic over his arms. But he’s taller than you so you have to reach as for as you can to bring it over his head. When the collar of the shirt is brought down and his messy, bedhead hair is standing on end, you realize you’re standing even closer and your chests are nearly touching.
“Careful now,” you say softly, helping his arms through each sleeve. He grunts, the sound either due to pain or annoyance at your instruction, but then the blessed shirt is on but he’s still looking at you, those dark eyes just boring into your own and you have to take a step back because you can feel his body heat radiating off of him and onto you.
Is the corner of his mouth lifting? Are you just imagining that?
“Thank you…” he says, but trails off. He looks at you expectantly.
You tell him your name. You don’t know why you tell him your name but it tumbles from your lips immediately. And yes, now he seems to definitely be smirking as he says it back to you. You think your name sounds really nice in Andor’s voice.
And then he leaves, rapping his fist twice on the doorframe as he exits. He doesn’t look back.
You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding the second you’re alone in the room. You realize you didn’t do the full body scan like you had planned to. You look around for a moment, flustered. You put your hands on your hips.
You think the scariest part about Captain Cassian Andor is how he didn’t seem very scary at all.
* * *
A few days later you are in the messhall in the middle of the night because an operative died on your watch and this one hurt.
She was young. Younger than you by at least five years. She was tiny and small and looked more like a child than you’d ever seen on the field. She’d returned from a mission with a blaster shot through her abdomen. It wouldn’t stop bleeding. You held your hands to her wound as the meddroid buzzed around you, preparing for surgery and then a second later she’d taken her last breath. You swear the blood stains are still on your hands, though you’ve scrubbed them raw.
You stare down into your long-cold caf and you cannot help it. You try so hard to keep the tears at bay but they will up in your eyes and spill down your cheeks without your permission. And since you’re already crying, you put your head into your hands and you just give into the feeling of utter loss. Your shoulders tremble and your nose is running and you let yourself cry, alone, in this empty messhall.
You are tired. You are homesick. You are afraid.
And with the sound of a footstep, you realize you are not alone.
You look up sharply and for a moment you can’t see anything because your tears have blurred your vision. You wipe your eyes and then you see Captain Andor standing in the doorway, his shoulders tense, his hands in his pockets, and he’s looking right at you.
“Sorry, I didn’t–I came for some caf, and you were here,” he explains. He sounds a little nervous but through the fog of your exhaustion and sadness, you don’t register his nerves as strange. You sniffle. You’re mortified.
“I’ll go,” you mutter and you make a move to get up but Andor steps forward and you freeze.
“No, please, it’s fine.”
You make eye contact with him and you see how tired he is. His eyes are bloodshot, he has a full beard, and his hair is going every which way. You nod and sit back down, taking a steadying breath. For a moment you think he’s going to leave and you have no opinion on the matter - honestly, all of this feels a little like a dream anyway. You’re not quite sure you aren’t sleeping.
But then Andor shuffles past you, toward the caf station, and you hear him go about making himself a cup. You take this time to gather yourself, and you’re thankful your shuddering breaths have stopped but you can’t control your eyes. They leak tears down your cheeks and you decide to just let them. It’s like your body is begging for release and you’re too tired to fight it.
Once again, you expect Captain Andor to leave but he surprises you. You hear the chair opposite you creak across the floor and when you look up, Andor is sitting across from you. He wipes a hand down his face and lets out a shuttering sigh and takes a sip of his caf.
He catches you staring at him. You don’t drop your gaze. It’s in the middle of the night in the messhall when most of the base is their barracks - the rules feel different.
Your voice is scratchy when you ask, “Trouble sleeping?”
Andor’s fingers tap on his cup of caf. “Always.”
You huff a humorless laugh. You see the corner of his mouth flick up.
“You?” he asks.
You nod. You think it’s the late hour and the lack of sleep and the weight of grief on your shoulders because you say, “Sometimes it just…feels like a lot.”
It’s a grossly inadequate statement and it can’t possibly capture everything that you feel but Andor doesn’t even blink. He’s looking at you and a shadow of understanding passes over his face.
“Yeah, it does,” he says. His voice is low and gravelly and it’s anchoring you, tethering you to this room. You can feel the floor beneath your boots. You can feel the stiff chair against your back. The coldness of the room caresses your wet cheeks. You’re still crying, the tears falling, but you feel calm. You feel present.
A curl has come loose from your ponytail and you tuck it behind your ear. Andor’s eyes follow the movement. You give him the smallest of grins. Captain Cassian Andor gives a tiny one back.
You don’t say anything for the rest of the thirty minutes you sit together, finishing your cafs. When you’ve taken the last tepid sip, you stand up. Andor follows suit, and you both throw your cups away, making your way out of the messhall and into the moonlight.
“Do you need me to walk you to the barracks?” he asks and it’s such a bizarre question that you can’t tell if he’s joking or not. But he seems earnest, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
“No,” you laugh, because you can’t help it. Why in the world would you need him to walk you back to your barracks? You think it’s a habit leftover from his life before - walking a crying woman back to her room. But that doesn’t matter here. Not on Yavin 4. Not in a war.
He laughs back. If the moonlight was a little brighter, you’d see a blush graze his cheeks, but in the darkness you don’t notice.
“Right,” he says. You stand there, opposite one another, outside of the messhall and it’s awkward for a moment. This is so insane, you keep thinking. You have never been alone with Andor before you sewed him up earlier in the week and now it’s happened twice.
“Okay, well. Goodnight, Captain Andor.”
“Cassian.”
You furrow your brow. “Huh?”
“Uh, just Cassian is fine,” he says, clearing his throat. “Captain Andor sounds like someone I don’t know.”
Your eyebrows raise at this little confession and you feel like you’re seeing this man a little clearer. Like the haze around him is lessening, and he’s a little bit more in sharper focus.
“Cassian,” you repeat, and he’s looking at the ground with a little grin. He says your name back, still looking at the ground, and you’re taken aback by how charming you think that is.
His eyes flick to you once more before he nods, and heads off to his quarters. You watch him for a moment, the moonlight making his silhouette glow a little, and you realize that your tears have stopped.
That night - for the first night in a very long time - you sleep soundly.
#cassian andor x f!reader#cassian andor#cassian andor fanfiction#cassian andor x oc#cassian andor x you#cassian andor fluff#rogue one fanfiction#rogue one#cassian andor x reader
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kissing andor the show on the mouth for not only giving us space lesbians but making them messy and dysfunctional
#like literally some spicier wlw rep#also like i do get the annoyance over the lack of a kissing scene but i'm not super bothered because? no one kisses in this show#no one kisses in rogue one or andor it's not like there's a prominent m/f couple to compare them with#and the show very much does imply they *share a blanket* at the very least so they aren't desexualised or anything#anyway! literally give it up for the lesbians with the trash fire relationship#it's sooo important to me because 90% of the time if there IS a wlw couple it's like.... the background guys who are Pure#the Soft WLW background guys#but vel and cinta guys they have blood between their teeth#there's mess here there's the pressures of a violent world
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I got notes on my Jyn/f!Cassian AU (a different post for it than the one linked, but w/e) and now I'm just like... aww, that was peak happy place.
#i worked on it whenever i had to deal with homophobic religious shit#and also at other times because i was really attached to it! but it was very soothing at difficult times#so i have a lot of affection in addition to the amount i'd have for f/f jyn/cassian anyway#anghraine babbles#the queer rogue one fic#fic talk#nice things people say to me#otp: welcome home
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Contemplating Palamedes thoughts and I feel like the challenge is hitting the exact sweet spot between:
Painstakingly accurate medieval garb (putting the research in cosplaying a researcher)
Extremely boring Rogue One extra*
Guy in your math class who regularly calls things "fascinating" and wears mostly sweater vests
No they don't all have to be literal inclusions but it is very important that the vibes intersect. I suspect it's going to involve a cowl.
#*could have just said star wars extra but rogue one has a particular drab/worn down feels that narrows the aesthetic properly#capturing the weird combination sci-fi/fantasy mix the series has going on is IMPORTANT to me#anyways i don't think i'll be particularly satisfied by the halloween iteration of this costume because i don't have time/energy/money#but i still want to put something together. a rough draft at least#pal cosplay tag#f: life is too short and love is too long
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#hmm#Andrew Lincoln#*#andygifs#these are huge#sorry im not sorry#F A C E#one day your lips will not make me want to bust through a wall like the koolaid man#but today is not that day#the first gif#stop it#now#me @ me: 🔇#rogue neck fuzzies 💙#even his adams apple is nice i hate myself#his eyes are so soothing
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How the Relationship Begins
Fandom: Star Wars
Type: Headcanons
Pairing: Cassian Andor x F!Reader
Warning: Late night writing, so, no beta. Writer is being overwhelm and under Taylor Swift's Lavender Haze (As you can see title's colours). A little bit OOC.
Rate: T
A/N: This idea happened when I rewatch Andor for fourth time. Now, I'm heavily in the writer-block state, but I don't want to abandon this blog. I believe this dilemma is gonna pass, if I keep writing. So, Enjoy!
🌹Click to My AO3
(Divider by @saradika)
Okay, let's start!
You met him on Yavin IV. Both of you were new to the Alliance's main base.
Since it was the main base, that meant you both had to train for necessary skills.
From the Alliance's levels, he was 'good to excellent', while your far-lenght shooting skill was not reaching the requirement. You stayed at training ground, after all new recruits leaved, to improve your skill.
Cassian saw you practising. He volunteered to help you, because he had feelings toward you.
It was the impression at first sight.
He couldn't clearly answer what kind of feeling, but as you were around him, smiling at him and saying thanks, he felt like he was teenage boy - who had a first crush - again.
While you had been grateful for his help and feeling like butterflies were in your stomach, especially when he adjusting your stance.
Not only his help drove you crazy, but also his smiles, his touches and his whispers into your ear - how to shoot and hitting right at the target.
As you hit all targets in all rows, you jumped and hugged him with happiness and exciting.
Yes. It made you blushing hard like tomatoes, while Cassian's heart skipped a beat. So, you two bounced away.
"First time is a beginner luck. You have to practise everyday." He said. "Meet me every day after dinner."
You agreed. You and Cassian kept meeting at training ground, every evening.
And after the semi-private session. You returned to your quater with many questions in your head. The big question was; 'Did you fall for him?'
You shaked them off and switched with the thought until you falling asleep.
Now you had been practising every evening for 2 weeks, until he challenging you to shoot all targets within 30 seconds. You accepted and you did it.
Jumping and hugging him again. But this time you both lingered. His face and yours were close, enough to feel the breathes. His brown eyes bared his soul, you could not fight them.
"Thank you so much, Cassian. I think tomorrow I will pass the test with flying flag." You mumbled.
"I think so, but, why do you looking to another way?"
You still looked down at the floor, almost startling, he was tilting your chin up to look at him. His thumb gently fondled your lower lips, your lips part a little.
"Cassian...I-I.." You stuttered, "I don't know what to say..."
"Kassa, call me Kassa."
Cassian's raptured voice got you, finally you gazed upon him, whispering 'Kassa'.
Like the gravity around you two sent the colossus magnets pulling you both to capture each other's lips.
After few seconds, which felt like hours; you both withdrew for air, leaning the temples together with wide smiles and small laughing.
When you passed the test and registered as an officially rebellion officer, Cassian was waiting for you.
You hopped and hugging him tightly. He praised you and guiding you away from the chaos around hangar and commanding table.
"Would you like to move into my quarter?" He asked, kissing your temple.
"You should ask me out before asking me to move in with you." You teased him. This time was his turn that his cheeks were reddening.
He knew too well, your both works were not certain. The missions after would take his own or your life. Also, his first mission as Captain Andor had been assigned, he must leave in three days from now. So, he had to rush things like this.
But you had a point. He should ask you out for an official date. He made up his mind and asking you to survey the ancient ruins on Yavin IV with him.
You accepted with conditions and terms;
"Okay, I'm going out with you, but about moving in--"
"But what?"
"But after your first mission succeed and our third date. Because I need the assurance that you are gonna return back safe and sound. Promise me."
Cassian smiled sweetly, kissed you before he speaking.
"I'm certainly gonna get back to you, my love, I promise."
Then you hugged him again and kissing his jawline, just like a seal to guaruntee the new chapter and adventure in your both lives was full of happiness, joyous and bright futures. Even those three words did not slip out yet.
#star wars fanfiction#rogue one fanfiction#andor fanfiction#cassian andor fanfiction#cassian andor#cassian andor x reader#cassian andor x you#cassian andor x f!reader#cassian andor x female reader#cassian andor headcanons#female reader#reader insert#septimaseverinawannawrite
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Kinktober 2022/23 Masterlist | Main Masterlist
Summary: Kinktober Day 24 — Tender Sex with Bodhi Rook
Pairing: Bodhi Rook/Reader; fem!reader with no mentions of her appearance.
Rating: Explicit, 18+ (Younglings, foundlings, and cadets BEGONE!)
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, smut; tender sex, unprotected PIV (PRACTICE SAFE SEX), oral sex (f!receiving), “we survived” sex, romantic sex, fluffy bullshit in Kinktober sue me, body worship, Bodhi Rook and Rogue One deserved better, no dialogue.
Word Count: 2.2k
Sam's Pen and Sword Kinktober 2023 Taglist Form
The last few days were a flurry of blurry memories flashing past your eyes at the speed of light. And the way certain parts were illuminated, perfectly clear, and other parts were darkened and hazy definitely reminded you of hyperspace.
Your life in general had practically shot into hyperspace this last week. What had started as a simple mission to Jedha to recover a defected Imperial pilot and the message he carried had turned into a crucial turning point in the war against the Empire.
The sound of the beaches of Scarif echoed in your ears, the crashing of the water on the sound, the mild crunch of boots dipping into the sands and scattering the grains in their determined, rebellious wake.
You could feel the phantom weight of the blaster in your hands, the weight of the vibroblade down your boot, the weight of the bandolier and rifle strapped across your chest and back.
You could feel the lingering tension gripping you — a tension born from not only desperation, but the thrill of battle. The intoxicating idea that this might it.
You could do it.
You could beat the Empire.
And even if you couldn't, you could still give them the proverbial middle finger and drag them down to hell with you.
Now, a week later, the victorious Rebellion had scattered, evacuating Yavin 4 as soon as possible following the destruction of the Death Star. You could see the flash of light still, a glorious sight and one you'd thoroughly dedicated to every comrade and innocent lost to the Empire.
Even before they'd risen to power, the Empire had destroyed the lives of millions. As far as you were concerned, you would fight for them as long as the Empire dared to exist.
You rolled your shoulders against the rising feeling of anger. A lingering thing. The devastation would come later, you knew. The loss of your home of Jedha was a loss shared by many, including Chirrut and Baze. Your family had long been gone but you could remember so clearly the days of walking the streets with your mother, buying groceries for your family. You could remember the days of your father combing the grains of sand from your hair. You still couldn't look at a comb without seeing his smile in your mind.
The destruction of the Death Star flashed across your memory again, pushing away the way you still, all these years later, grieved for your family.
A knock sounded at the door of your new quarters. Until the Rebellion could find a suitable moon or planet to house a new home base, the Alliance was scattered across the Outer Rim, occupying safe houses and outposts until the call was raised saying a new base had been found.
Answering the door, a smile grew across your face.
Bodhi's hair was loose and damp around his shoulders, and he wasn't wearing the usual jumpsuit he'd practically lived in the last week. Between everything that had happened, there'd been no time to stop, no time to pause. From Jedha, to Eadu, to Yavin, the Scarif, to Yavin again, to the siege against the Death Star, to the award ceremony and evacuation, there hadn't really even been time to stop and breathe.
And now, as you looked into Bodhi's warm eyes, you felt as if you were finally coming out of hyperspace and emerging into the calm of the stars.
Bodhi kissed you tenderly. Tension released from him the second his lips touched yours, the contact calming something inside the both of you. His usual anxiousness melted away into a calm, gentle affection, his hands cupping your face reverently.
It felt so natural to kiss Bodhi like this. Tenderly, languidly, slowly. Actually taking the time, as much as you wanted, to express how you felt. None of the frenzied, harried tearing of clothes or mashing of lips as a result of the fear of battle and death and defeat.
You and Bodhi had experienced more than enough battle and death and defeat in the last week. Just as much as you had experienced hope, and determination, and victory.
Jedha may have been gone, and this war with the Empire was not over by a long shot, and you weren't sure what the future had in store for you, but you were here now. With Bodhi.
And the knowledge of that, the sheer relief it brought, sprung tears to your eyes as you basked in his achingly tender kiss.
Inhaling deep against his skin and enjoying the clean scent of him, and the softness of his hair tickling your cheek, you and Bodhi guided each other to the bed.
His weight against you grounded you better than anything else ever had. Ever would. With Bodhi here, you didn't think about the sting of sand or the heat of blaster fire against your skin. You didn't think of the ringing in your ears, brought on by the onslaught of explosions and walkers shaking the beaches. You didn't think of the water lapping against your boots, so warm and sloshing so loud in your ears it felt and sounded more like blood. You could smell him, the lingering memory of the spices of home comforting you instead of distressing you, blocking out the burning, metallic, ozonous scent of space and your burning cockpit. You could feel him, not the rumble of the ship around you as Jedha City collapsed into ash on top of you. Behind your eyes was nothing but blissful peace, not the foreboding sight of a strange, shadowing eclipse on the horizon. His hands stroked along your back, so much more soothing than the onslaught of Eadu's rain. His beard against your skin made you shiver pleasantly, the feeling of it so familiar, and yet so unlike the terrible scratching of your battle-worn fatigues.
Bodhi was here. You were here.
Together.
And you focused on that, preferring not to think about how very close the both of you came to not being here.
Bodhi's hair was silk against your calluses as you pressed yourself into him. Legs entangled, hands stroking and gentle, neither of you were in the mood to rush this.
You could never get enough of this. Never get enough of Bodhi. Sweet, gentle, brave Bodhi. A rebel to the core, this victory would not have happened without him. If he had never defected from the Empire and brought Erso's precious message to Saw Gerrera, the Death Star would still be out there. And more than just Jedha City, Scarif, and Alderaan would have been lost to their relentless pursuit of domination. He was an endlessly brave man who stuttered when he was anxious. An ace pilot who still got nervous when he flew. An Imperial traitor, a rogue rebel. Sweet, precious Bodhi who reminded you of home, of everything you'd lost, and every reason why you chose to fight. Bodhi, who'd been tortured at the hands of Saw Gerrera but had still chosen to join the Rebellion anyway, because he believed in Galen Erso's message, and believed in the cause. Bodhi, who in a moment of panic, had given your crew, your family their name, and piloted you into the heart of a hopeless mission. Bodhi, who wanted to be brave, to do better, to make up for his mistakes, who volunteered for a suicide mission to Scarif, escaped by the sheer luck of a faulty charge, and then jumped right back in when it was time to attack the Death Star.
Just... Bodhi.
You couldn't help pulling away from his kiss, just for a moment, to stare at him. To make sure he was real. He was there with you. He was here.
With you.
Oh, those eyes of his. They not only reminded you of home, but had perhaps become your new home.
You weren't sure what Bodhi saw in your expression, but whatever it was made him bring his lips to your forehead.
A tear fell down your cheek.
Bodhi kissed his way down your features, pressing his lips to you like he was tracing the constellation of your body. Your temple, your cheek, your nose, your jaw, your ear, your neck, your collar, your shoulder, your chest. Down, all the way down your middle, to your waist, where he slid his hands beneath the hem of your shirt to peel it away from your skin.
He kissed his way back up, mapping each new part of you that was revealed to him. He lingered at your collar, nuzzling his face to your chest and listening to your heart beat for him.
He pressed a kiss to your heart, and you swore you fell even more in love with him right then and there.
Bodhi caressed down your body, stroking every dip and curve, his tender kisses following just behind. His touch was warm, but it still made goosebumps and shivers rake your body, the attention gentle, but oh, so thorough. As Bodhi dipped into the valley of your breasts, pressing a firmer, lingering kiss there, you gasped quietly, your knees crooking to cage his slim body between your thighs.
His lips trailed across your breast, tongue darting out to massage across your nipple, and a gasp of his name escaped you.
Bodhi.
He hummed into your skin, nuzzling the warmth of your breast and stroking your skin comfortingly.
Bodhi lapped and sucked at your breasts steadily, enjoying the feeling of your little nipples swelling under his tongue. He released them long enough to watch them pebble even further without his warm mouth worshipping and warming them. He loved the sight.
A warmth had started to build in your core, tightening and curling inside you in an achingly wonderful, slow climb.
His soft hands massaged your breasts as his lips trailed down the curve of your waist. You sighed into the touch, legs falling further open as he slid down your body, until his shoulders were seated between them.
His fingers, soft from the constant wear of his pilot's gloves, popped the button of your pants, lips kissing the skin beneath your navel as he dragged the zipper open.
He breathed a question into your skin, and as you gave your permission, he helped you slip from your pants, him continuing to kiss and worship each new part of you.
Until he decided to worship a more intimate part of you.
His kisses were still so tender and oh, so thorough as he covered every inch of your most intimate areas with affection. His tongue darted out, lapping up your folds, unhurried in his tasting of you. You sighed blissfully, fingers slipping into his silky hair. Bodhi's praise was rumbled into you, before he pressed an open kiss to your clit.
You trembled beneath him.
Bodhi's pace was still unhurried, languorous, but held a fervor to it as he alternated licking through your lips and core to swirling your clit in his mouth with gentle sucks. Your gentle moans mixed with his, both of you contentedly caught up in the other.
Bodhi prodded your entrance with his tongue, one of his soft fingers replacing it seconds later. He slipped into you with ease, your moan louder than before. You felt the curve of his smiling lips press against your clit again, closing around it as he crooked his finger in a massage of your slick walls.
Bodhi. Bodhi. Bodhi. It was a chant encompassing your mind and heart as he brought you to your high, a second finger slipping inside you as he sucked your clit in a wonderful, blissful pulse. You were being consumed by the feeling of his ministrations, caught up in the knowledge that he was there with you, that you were alive, you survived, against all odds, and consumed in Bodhi, and the bond forged in the fires of war and loss and shared hope and impossible victory.
Your walls fluttered as Bodhi coaxed you into a shattering orgasm with nothing other than his tender affection. You trembled and shivered as it raked through your body. Bodhi kissed his way up your shaking body, drinking in your moans and scent. Your voice, your scent, your touch. It all reminded him of how far he'd come, and of home.
You were his home now.
And he basked in that feeling as he slid into you.
As he came home.
So overcome were the both of you, in the feeling of simply being there, in the feeling of each other, the thrust of his hips into yours, the heat of your silken walls around him, his lips on your neck, your hands in his hair, his own cupping your hips and back, your breasts against his chest. It was all so intimate and passionate and still so unhurried.
You didn't know what tomorrow would bring. But for now, you had this. Him, inside you, and you, holding him close.
Bodhi came first, his cum warming your core and heart. It triggered your own release, your walls pulsing around him.
You and Bodhi came down together. His fingers trailed over your curves as he softened inside you. Warm in the afterglow, you stroked his hand into a semblance of order, unable to swallow your smile at the swell of his lips and darkened hue of his gorgeous eyes.
Bodhi returned your smile and brought your lips back together.
Again, you didn't know what tomorrow would brin. If it would bring retaliation, or danger, or a new base, or a new mission. But for now, you had here. And now.
You had each other.
You were home.
Taglist: @twistedstitcher27 @rexxdjarin @frietiemeloen @fivedicksinatrenchcoat @jedimastersovi @hnnybee @sleepingsun501 @virginoliveoil @rosmariner @sunshinesdaydream @adikas-world @theroguesully @dangerousstrawberrypie @kraytclaw @lindsaygallof @misogirl828 @thefact0rygirl @mxkyrie @rain-on-kamino @coffeyorky @iguess-vall
Sam's Pen and Sword Kinktober 2022 Taglist Form
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#sam's pen and kinktober#kinktober#kinktober 2022#star wars kinktober#star wars kinktober 2022#star wars#star wars rogue one#rogue one#rogue one a star wars story#bodhi rook#bodhi rook x reader#bodhi rook x you#bodhi rook x y/n#fem reader#fem!reader#f!reader#bodhi rook deserves better#all of rogue one deserves fucking better!!#and i love one (1) anxious goggles flyboy who listens to his heart and finds courage
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Everytime I hear Riz Ahmed is in something he’s always a sopping wet faguette
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STRENGTH AMONG STARS | KA'RA (stars)
a/n: i plotted this story in 2020 funnily enough and since then i've been debating on even posting it here. except i loved the idea too much to let it go and i finally began working on it again. so after years of debating, i finally figured why not. i hope you enjoy my darlings.
i don't keep a taglist anymore, but instead i have a library blog.
summary: the guardians of the whills. it is a tale known to few, but a legacy beloved by many. the only one you knew.
word count: 1.5k+
pairing: din djarin x f!reader (force sensitive)
warnings: not explicit, tiny bit of angst.
next chapter | series masterlist
One could wonder what a star is made of. Matter? Different pieces of materials all formed together, all combined, working in sync, to bring together the beauty that helps to form and shape the galaxy. That creates parts of the universe as a whole. The small glimmering pieces of light in the night sky that are admired because one can not truly say what they are made of.
Perhaps a wish is to be made on one that falls from that sky, and perhaps it may be granted. One will never be able to unearth the truth of it all, because to do so would be revealing the mysteries of the galaxy.
It was always at night that you sat outside of the temple, eyes trained on the sky, and a wish held in your heart. A routine of sorts that you’d made for yourself, because it kept you busy in a way, even though you had plenty to do. The others would roll their eyes, tell you that wishing upon stars was useless, but they never went against you. Instead, they continued to allow you to sit out there and watch the night sky in hopes that one day you’d join it.
In hopes that one day you’d be among the stars.
“Wishing again I see,” a voice came from behind you.
You didn’t respond, but you smiled instead. He wouldn’t be able to see you smile yet something told you he knew you would anyway. Chirrut sat beside you, his staff resting between his legs as he pointed his head to where he knew the sky was. How he could somehow see without sight amazed you continuously, but he would just tell you that he used the Force to help. That the Force was the one thing that could help.
“What do you wish for this time?” he asked.
Shrugging your shoulders, you focused on the single star that seemed to shine brighter than the others. “To be up there with them.”
He nodded. “To join the stars.”
“Yes.”
“Why is that?” He asked you this every night and your answer always remained the same, but tonight felt different. There was a shift in the air surrounding you, something calling out to you. Unlike before where it remained silent, peaceful, this brought with it the bitter taste of chaos. The lingering fear that things weren’t meant to stay this way for very long.
“I want to know what it’s like,” you whispered. That was true for the most part. You did want to travel the stars, did want to know what it was like to be among them, but you also wanted adventure.
The Temple of the Whills is where you were raised, where you were trained underneath Chirrut to become someone like him. A Guardian of the Whills, protector of Kyber. You were to take over in his spot and while you didn’t mind the duty, while you found peace in the work and pride in the title. You still found yourself longing to be somewhere else; to be something else entirely. Why? You couldn’t say, but it stuck with you day in and day out, until you found yourself outside every night wishing for that exact thing.
“The stars aren’t going to grant you wishes.” He told you out right as always and you knew he did it because you needed to hear it. “Trust the Force young one and you’ll find your path soon enough.”
It rarely made sense to you, why he told you to trust the one entity you couldn’t see or feel, but you didn’t question him about it. He’d been alive longer than you had; seen more than you would probably ever see.
“I thought only Jedi were able to use the Force.” You knew of them, had heard the stories, but you’d never known one personally, never saw how in fact they used the Force. Perhaps it truly was all stories; one’s to keep others hopeful. Or maybe it was the truth, but you’d never be able to find out for sure.
Chirrut smiled. “The Force is all around us, surrounding us. They are able to bend it, use it how they wish, but it is not only specific for them. We as the Guardians of the Whills, the ones who protect the Kyber crystals, depend on it as well. The Force is not a myth as you believe it to be.”
“I don’t think it’s a-”
“But you do. I can tell you do not trust it completely when you should. You, out of everyone in this Temple, should trust the Force.” He tapped his staff on the ground twice drawing your full attention to him. “Many don’t believe in the Jedi’s existence. Do you know why?”
“Why?”
“Because they do not see the Force as something that could be real. This temple houses the Kyber crystals, used in creating a Jedi’s weapon, but it also draws a strong connection to the Force. It is why we must believe in it; why we have to see it as vital in what we do.” His words struck something in you that you believed to have been gone. There were reasons in everything, in why you were raised here, why you didn’t know where you came from.
You sighed. “How do I know that this is where I’m meant to be?”
The doubt probably came off of you in waves, letting him know exactly what you were thinking, but there would be no way to push it away. That’s what you’d done for so long; pushed down the feelings of being lost, of wanting more, because you truly believed this was where you belonged. Except every once in a while, when you would stare up at the stars and make your silly little wish, the doubts would return and remind you of where you were.
“We never know where we are meant to be young one.” He stood from where he sat. “Come with me. You have to finish your readings.”
Glancing up to the sky, you focused on the brightest star you always set your sights on. “I wonder what you are.”
You weren’t saying it to anyone in particular, just to yourself. Perhaps that’s all it would ever be to you. A bright star in the night sky that you spoke to in hopes of regaining something back to yourself. In hopes of knowing who you truly were. That shift in the air, in the Force or whatever it was came back to you again. A new feeling of something coming, but you brushed it off, calling it a figment of your imagination.
It wasn’t that you didn’t want to believe him, you did. Something else entirely kept you from believing that the stories of the Jedi were real, that they were indeed a part of the reality in which you lived. It was that if they were true, then that would mean they were truly defeated. That there only survived a few. And that is what kept you from believing, from putting your complete faith in it, because you couldn’t understand how.
You asked Chirrut once what happened to them, how they vanished, and he told you the truth. He revealed to you about the horrid order that was set into motion, the one that now left you in a galaxy with no protectors. Although you supposed that you were now one of those protectors. The ones who kept the last piece of the Jedi, the last hope they had, safe from the Empire.
Leaving the outdoors, you re-entered the temple and prepared yourself for the amount of reading that needed to be done. Except there still lingered in the air, in your body that faint tug of something somewhere. Telling you continuously that this would no longer be the same. That the pain, the agony that was endured before this would not cease to end anytime soon. But you pushed it away, and focused on the task at hand.
There was no time for hopes that only lie in the graves of former heroes. No time for the suspicions that plagued you day in and day out, because you wouldn’t be able to do anything about them either way.
Stopping in the archway of the entrance you faced that single lonesome star once more. The one that you felt akin to like an old friend you hadn’t seen in quite some time, and you sighed. Let out the air in your lungs, because you hoped, wished, that would get rid of the feeling that continued to linger in your heart. Perhaps one day you could believe in the Jedi, give yourself a chance to understand that they had to have existed.
A small tender feeling of hope rose in your chest the longer you continued to watch the star. “I am one with the Force...” you paused, turning back to the building, to where your future lay ahead of you. “...and the Force is with me.”
#din djarin x reader#din djarin x you#din djarin x y/n#din djarin x f!reader#din djarin x jedi!reader#din djarin#the mandalorian#rogue one#my writing
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One more time, I apologise in advance to my followers for the person I’ll become now that Andor is between us.
#star wars#cassian andor#andor series#disney+#rogue one#incorrect star wars quotes#sorry not even remotely sorry#the three episodes where sooooo f good#i love when star wars but it feels so good to see something more mature
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