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not-quite-girl-nor-quite-boy · 1 year

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So, alright everyone. This is an early kinda fic for me. I first wrote this a long long long time ago but I decided, eh why the hell not. So yeah hear you are, apologies in advanced for my shitty spelling, grammar, and my abysmal paragraphing. Anyway have fun <3

This is a djinn fic for cass, it is strong destiel and very whumpy, don’t like don’t read (though I hope you all do both :)

Have fun <3

dean drove conflicted, on one hand it was a freaking djinn, he hated this godforsaken creatures and after what they did to him? Well that's where the profound sense of joy found him, he was begging, to kill one, absolutely ecstatic at the chance to get his pound of flesh. Sam sat next to him in shotgun, researching the lore and Cass sat in the back looking at the sky, fascinated by the myriad of stars dotting the sky, he had always thought they were beautiful, all of space, gods greatest creation, second only to humans.

When they arrived they entered silently, Sam headed up the group and Dean tailed Cass trying to make sure he was safe. Cass hadn't been as blind as dean thought to his little protective measures, he would follow him, push him out of the way of knives, getting himself hurt in the process despite them not being able to hurt Cass. He was starting to get sick of it. He felt like dean didn't trust him, like he thought Cass was incapable. They hurried inside, prioritising speed as well as stealth, and flooded the halls, they checked several rooms before they finally came to a room, at least ten victims were hanging there pale and weak, suspended from handcuffs attached to hooks on the ceiling. Sam and dean began rounding up and unhooking the victims from their places on the roof. Cass stared around the corner trying to find the djinn the others had forgotten about so quickly. He began walking, grateful to be loose of deans shadow. He walked into an office type room, the only sound, the quiet, echoing tap of his shoes against the mouldy wooden floor. He heard his name, dean was calling him from the vic's room, he finally noticed he was gone. Cass turned around to see the tattooed pale skin of the djinn.

"DEAN!" He screamed, the djinns rough calloused fingers pushing against his forehead. Cass felt the poison rushing through his veins like a bullet train, feeling his muscles weaken and his limbs weigh more and more. He took one glance and saw dean rushing through up to the doorway.

"dean..." He mumbled before dizzily collapsing into a heap on the floor, the djinn leaned down and he vanished with Cass, disappeared into a fog, gone.

"NOOO!!!" Dean called as he ran over to where Cass was. Sam ran in through the door.

"what happened?" He asked truly befuddled *(idky I wanted everyone to know I was English here lol)*

"it took Cass! This is why. This is exactly why I tried to take care of -" he cut himself off from the mumbling that followed the initial sentence.

"ok, well I read something in the lore about djinns liking caves and how they moved into buildings to fit in with modern society." Sam explained his voiced laced with remarkably condescending concern.

"so why are we standing here? We have to go!" They darted to the car and started speeding towards Cass.

Cass POV~ dream world~

Cass woke up, he looked around confused, he looked down at himself, he wasn't wearing the clothes he was wearing before, he was wearing loose flannel trousers, and a led zeppelin shirt that looked like Deans. He tried to think, think back to the last thing he remembered, he was dropped by a djinn, he shot up. He looked around for dean, he looked at him, happily surprised.

"Cass hey!"

"where am I, really, out there?" He said, in no mood for the lie's friendliness.

"what- out there? You mean, the djinn? We were worried you wouldn't wake up, that was almost two days ago Cass."

"wha- I, I don't. Dean I don't understand."

"hey, hey, its ok," he sat next to him on the bed, he put a hand to his forehead. Cass looked up at his hand in confusion. "your fever is still pretty high, but You'll be ok. Its ok if you are confused. I'm here."

"since when do djinn's cause-"

"are you tired?" Dean asked cutting him off. Suddenly a wave of dizzyness and exhaustion flooded over him like a tidal wave. He saw his vision blur and himself weaken. He nodded, suddenly subdued and relaxed by dean’s presence not afraid of him, not worrying about the stranger, of the dream world, or dying. Dean hopped in the bed and snuggled into Cass, much to his confusion, Cass looked at him but passed out before he could verbalise any of the myriad of questions floating wavily through his head.

~real world~

He weakly opened his eyes in the real world. He looked around, he saw the djinn,

"where am I?" He mumbled weakly.

"it doesn't matter now."

"what are, what is happening?" The djinn ignored him blatantly.

"what are you? Usually I need several people at a time but you? You're delicious, you have power I have never seen before."

"i am an angel of the Lord. How did you injure me?" He said suddenly noticing the dripping coming from his leg, it splashed slowly dripping into a bucket under his feet.

"pointy, silver thing in your sleeve. I'd best keep my eye out for you lot."

castiel fed him a look of rage and disgust.

"sleep now," he said quietly the blue flame sparking on his fingertips as he reached out and caressed his forehead. He tried to pull away but despite his struggle the flame claims his mind, sending him into a deep slumber.

~dream world~

cass woke up still in deans arms but calmer than before, he leaned into Dean. He felt strange, he looked at dean something was off, he tried to cling on to the memory the djinn but it felt like going up the stairs in the dark and you don't know if there is another step at the top. He tried to clear the smog inhabiting his mind to no avail. He looked at dean, smiling, his closed eyed hiding the forest green emeralds he called eyes. His dark blond hair mixed in with twirls of brown. Hid adorable freckles lightly dotting his tanned face. He slowly opened his eyes looking straight into Castiel's blue ones. He smiled lightly.

"good morning," he said sleepily. "how are you feeling?"

"fine." Cass replied sleepily.

"damn I always hated djinns." He said, his hand on Castiel's forhead. "you're still quite warm. Try to get some more sleep, huh?" Cass looked at him confused.

"I- dean i don't sleep, I'm an angel." Dean looked at him confused.

"i know that cassy, but you're sick, the djinn poisoned you and it weakened your vessel's immune system." Cass knitted his eyebrows, his eyes closed before he could say anything he felt himself shivering, shaking even under the covers. Dean took off his shirt and slipped in with him, taking him into his arms gently Cass nuzzled himself against Dean, trying to absorb his warmth.

~real world~

he felt himself bleeding out, he felt the weakness replacing the blood that he lost, his body was emptying but it was refilled, replenished by his overwhelming sense of tiredness and fear. He was going to die here.

~dream world~

he woke up, he looked at dean's naked torso, he traced the antipossesion tattoo with him finger and he padded his handprint from when he pulled him from hell. Dean woke up to Castiel's hand on his shoulder.

"are you alright?" Cass just smiled at him.

"yeah, i am."

"you're alot cooler now. You feeling better?" Dean asked.

"loads." Cass replied blissful.

"good. You seem happy."

"just content, I feel peaceful." Cass said.

"good. Come on ill fix us some grub." Dean said taking cass' hand and leading him out of the room. He walked with him, unflinchingly, without question. He sat him down in the kitchen while dean started making some eggs, and bacon. He was humming his favourite songs while he cooked and Cass just looked at him smitten. He set down the plate in front of him, he looked at it, then him confused.

"I don't eat dean." Dean looked at him confused.

"just try some Cass." He said with a fake smile, obviously worried about him.

Cass hesitantly ate a small mouthful and smiled, it was delicious, no more molecules just food! It was wonderful, Castiel's smile told dean all he needed to know.

"see I knew you'd love it." Dean said. Cass positively beemed, he ate the whole plate graciously. And requested another. Dean smiled at him and offered it up.

"you really sapped you're strength with that flu didn't you?"

"yeah, I - I guess so." Cass said inhaling the food on his plate.

"so, what are we gonna do today?"

"do we have a case?" Cass asked.

"baby, no you just relearned how to stand ok, we are gonna take the day off." Cass looks at him fazed.

"you... Ok?"

"'baby'?"

"yeah? And..."

"just, that's only for the ca- nevermind."

"...ok... So today?"

"um I... I don't know, what do you wanna do?"

"how about we watch some tv, cuddle up on the couch, popcorn. Horror movies, then maybe you'll understand some references?"

"ok then."

they walked over to the sofa where dean sat, one arms extened. Cass sat on the opposite end of the sofa, confused as to why dean was sitting so openly. Dean looked at him confused, he patted the chair next to him, which Cass looked at confused. He reached over to Cass and slid him across the sofa into his arms, Cass snuggled into Deans chest, it felt right, he always had wanted to, but he assumed it would make dean uncomfortable, he comfortably huddled into dean. While he turned on a horror film called 'carrie', apparently it was a classic. At the end Cass buried his head into dean who paniked and peeled Cass away so the could figure out what's wrong.

"hey, hey, hey, what's wrong?"

"its-its- I- the blood." Cass was in hysterics. He was an angel Of the Lord and as he had once explained to Dean he was gods warrior. He that had seen his fair share of blood spilled and he truly did not wish to see another drop.

"its ok, its ok, don't worry, its not real, its just a film, i got you." Cass sniffled and gasped.

"r-re-really?"

"yeah, cassy, its not real i got you."

"oh-ok."

"do you wanna do something else? What would make you feel safer?"

"no, lets watch more, you make me feel safe." Dean smiled at him, pleased at the comfort he brought him as he switched on something slightly less scary.

~real world~

the boys pulled up, speeding to the cave so helpfully supplied by everyone’s favourite red headed witch. She seemingly had taken a shine to Castiel, or maybe he was a required pawn in a future plot, but either way she was adamant for his safe return.

They hurried inside but stopped short when they saw him.

The djinn stood there gently caressing his forehead with a delicate, yet aggressive blue flame dancing from its fingertips to the angels brow. They cornered and killed the bastard that hurt their friend but not without a few near misses. When they got back over to him the noticed Castiel's condition worsening, his life dripping, pouring out of him, he was pale and tired, his body was weak and breaking. Dean ran over to him, wrapping his arms around him in an effort to take the strain off his arms and wrists where he was tied, suspended off the ceiling. Sam reached up and cut the restraints causing him to fall entirely onto dean who caught him graciously. He adjusted the way he was holding him so he had one arm under his and one under his knees. He carried him into the car, as Sam fished the key out of his pocket without exchanging a word. Once inside dean layed Cass down in the back,his head in deans lap, that is when dean identified the liquid oozing put of him. He clamped down on the wound hard, expecting Cass to resist or struggle. dean was worried when he elicited no such reaction.

Cass was in terrible condition, he was bleeding out and would if he wasn't already poisoned to sleep, he would have long since passed out.

when they arrived home at the bunker several hours later, dean carried cas to a bed while Sam busted out the African dream root and the suture kit for his leg.

he returned holding a mug and a small box. Sam passed it to dean who downed the whole thing while Sam got started on the stitches.

~dream world~

dean honestly had no idea what to expect, he hadnt really given it much thought, he just knew his friend was in trouble and he had to help him. He was shocked when he found himself in the library of the bunker, he walked into the hall relieved and confused when he found it to be the same bunker he lived in, he was at home.

He walked towards the kitchen hearing the humming of his favourite songs, he wondered towards the doing curious. He peered into the room and saw himself cooking over a pan of food and castiel looking at him dreamily. Dream dean turned to face cas who had a big sloppy smile on his face. He handed him a plate of food and they kissed as he put it down in front of him. Dean was shocked.

"Cass…" he said from the doorway. Cass looked over and saw dean, he was immensely confused.

"Dean, what- what is happening?" Cass asked looking back and forth between the two. The real dean answered.

"I'm sorry Cass, I'm sorry but this isn't real. You were kidnapped by a djinn and it was poisoning you but you need to wake up. You need to kill yourself."

"what - I- i don't understand." Cass said looking worryingly close to a breakdown.

"Cass its ok. Sam and i will be there when you wake up. Out there, in the real world. This isn't real, and deep down somewhere you know it." Suddenly the false reality constructed in his mind came metaphorically crashing down around Cass. He remembered the djinn, the bleeding out, the cave. But he didn't want to leave, why would he? He was happy here, he was loved.

"no, you know now, you wont even be my friend, everything will be different, just-just let me be happy, please."

"no Cass, I love you too, I want this."

"I don't need your pity dean, stop lying."

"I'm not!"

"whatever. Please, just let me stay. I'm happy."

"what about me and Sam?"

"you'll be better without me, all I do is screw up."

"no Cass please, you have to come with me."

"no dean." He started to walk away.

"then I'm sorry." Cass turned around, looking at dean. Dean plunged a triangular blade deep into Castiel's heart. Cass looked down in awe, dean killed him?!

he fell to the floor. In a heap. As he did in the real world too. He was in a pile, a mound crumpled on the ground. He instinctively reach for his chest. It was gone, it wasn't real. He looked to dean, who just stood from his chair.

"YOU DIDNT GET YOUR WAY SO YOU KILLED ME?! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!?"

"Cass we need you!"

"Yeah, people often think that about their pets."

"Cass you aren't a pet, you are out friend. Our family."

"you always kill your family when they are finally happy?!"

"Cass-"

"I don't want to hear it." He vanished.

Dean threw up his hands in frustration.

"dude, what happened?" Sam asked absolutely confused out of his mind.

"well, summary, Castiel's greatest wish was us to be together." Dean said with vigour expecting a dramatic reaction from Sam who usually loved gossip like a nine year old girl.

"and..." Sam asked blankly, still confused.

"and? What, Cass loves me and music is just how the government controls our minds? What more do you want?"

"well I just mean, its kinda obvious. Everyone knows, hell bobby knows, did you not?"

"no I did not Sammy!" Dean snapped.

"oh well, sorry man. How do you feel about him."

"well, honestly-" dean was cut off by a major crashing sound from the other room. Sam and dean ran through the halls and around the corner to the source of the noise, guns drawn out in front of them.

Cass POV

he flew over the sky leaving wispy whilte trails of cloud in his wake as he tore through the pockets dotting the sky. He then realised the rapid tiredness overcoming him, he saw himself lowering towards earth without his consent. He felt himself passing out, he didn't like it but he had to get safe, at home. He summoned all his remaining strength and with a single beat of his wings appeared back in the bunker, where he collapsed and passed out finally.

3rd person POV.

dean darted over to Castile's unconscious body crumpled in a he's on the war room floor.

"CASS?" He checked his pulse at rapid speed. It was weak but there. He checked on his now secured leg wound.

"damnit Cass you shouldn't have left, you were bleeding to death like an hour ago, and we have no idea what djinn venom does to angels." He mumbled to himself. He carefully picked up the wounded angel and carried him into the bedroom. He left him on the bed, tucking him in with the covers.

"its ok Cass. I love you. I'll be here when you wake up. I'll explain." Dean whispered to him quietly.

"I love you too." Cass mumbled in his tired delirious state. Dean smiled at him and tucked him in, he laid down next to him hugging him tight and keeping him safe.

A/N: Sorry if the ending is shit but yeah it was written originally years ago and I barely tweaked it to make it make sense tbh. Also I have no idea about djinn lore and do not know if caves are where they frequent, I just needed a setting :).

Despite its age I hope you all had fun <3

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loveofastarvingdog · 2 years

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and i would say all of this…. but i don’t wanna ruin the moment……..

#timothy's txts.#but you CAN’T ruin the moment because it’s not even happening it’s not even real!!!! YOU CAN’T EVEN LET YOUREELF HAVE WHAT YOU WANT WHEN IT #ISN’T REAL #like when dean’s djinn dreams were still unhappy…..#fuck…….#tw swearing #musicnatural #ceilings by lizzy mcalpine #tw caps

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found--family · 3 months

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cas would not kiss dean first. dean would also not kiss cas first. this is their tragedy. but a shapeshifter or some kind of monster clone or djinn dream would initiate the first kiss and they would 100% return it. or the real dean and cas would've just simply fallen together somehow like tripped and fell and gravity would bring their mouths together whoops anyway they'd both take it from there - and that's not fate pulling strings it's just dumb luck for these two dumbasses (affectionate)

#destiel #thoughts #and btw: i don't know why everyone thinks i'm trying to woobify cas by saying he wouldn't kiss dean first.#fact: dude literally waited for death's door to confess his love so he wouldn't burden dean with his feels - but at least he could #use them to save dean. and he thought he couldn't have dean (the one thing he wanted..) which is why he didn't make the first move #bc he thought there would be no further moves. i don't understand what's not clicking. anyway they're both dumbasses #don't bother fighting me i know i'm right

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shallowseeker · 6 months

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It's like a bullet to the heart every time....

everything we ever wanted

ALL ALONG THE WATCHTOWER via @spnscripthunt

#everything *dean* ever wanted anyway #it'd like the djinn dream but with REAL mary instead #and CAS!!!!#what is and should never be #all along the watchtower #spn 12x23 #john cas parallels again #cas to succeed for the family where john failed? nope #OW

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faillen · 2 years

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it's the fact that he had this wish, okay? this wish that his mom never died. and he's never said it aloud, never told anyone.

but he's thought about, he's thought about it so much. he's stared up at motel room ceilings, and sometimes when he's brave enough, he pulls it up, and thinks about all the ways things would be different.

wonders: how would mom look? would i live close to home? would sammy and i still get along? what kinda job would dad have?

he's got. theories. they're not all images of this picture-perfect life. he figures he's gotta level with himself—be "realistic".

and y'know. one of those nights, after a successful hunt, after they've saved someone and it's perfect, he thinks, "god, i wish mom coulda seen us." and he just stops. realizes. realizes that if his mom could, then the person they saved today...wouldn't have been saved.

so the thingsabout this wish is that it only works if he doesn't know that something has changed. and the djinn. the djinn doesn't get its power from you not knowing something has changed—a wish is a drug only when you know it's been granted.

and dean. dean's got this wish, and it's a beautiful, gorgeous life. it's peaceful. safe. happy. there is no fear. but he knows his wish has been granted, that's why this life is so wonderful to him. and it's why he can't keep it. because dean can't escape the knowledge of what's been lost if he has this dream. can't escape the people he's damned. and in realizing that he's left people behind, he is damned.

dean holds the blade up to his heart, and he says "i'm sorry" because now that he knows, there's no turning back. it's a wonderful world, and it should have never been.

#this fucking EPISODE #fai thinking thoughts #i also just keep thinking about the fact that even if he had stayed #he would've destroyed it all #and that's part of the reason why he didn't stay as well #he knew there was no way his subconscious would let him escape his obligation #dean in the djinn dream would've eventually fallen back into hunting #and the guilt would have eaten him alive #the minute he figured it out was the minute he could no longer be happy in the wish #spn #2x20

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bunnysbrainrot · 29 days

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A Lesson in Manners

Relationship: Dean Winchester x f!Reader

Content: Romantic tension, protective Dean, alcohol consumption, a weird guy ft. the way Dean handles it.

Summary: After a long, exhausting day of hunting, Team Free Will unwinds with drinks at a nearby bar. You're enjoying your time until a stranger decides to pester you, but that won't go unnoticed by Dean.

The signature purr of the Impala faded as Dean turned off the ignition, releasing a heavy sigh, a defeated and tired noise. Whatever nasties they have down here in Georgia have been difficult. All signs in this case were pointing to a djinn, but without getting in closer, there was no way to be completely sure.

That risk was left to Sam and Dean, as they had told you yesterday, when the research finally fell into place.

Sam's lips pressed into a thin line as he stared at his laptop screen, his brows twitching. He deadpanned and looked to his brother, "Djinn. How the hell didn't we think of that yet?"

Dean matched Sam's frustration with a scoff. He simply shook his head.

Djinn were unfamiliar to you still. Though you had done a fair bit of research, helpfully guided by Sam, and learned quite a lot. But, you also knew that research and experience were very, very different for a hunter.

"Awesome, so... what?" Dean inquired, raising a brow at Sam. You sat in the small armchair in the boys' motel room, looking between them. "We gonna go into blood-sucking paradise-dream-world again?"

Sam flashed a quick smile, "Let's just hope it doesn't come to that. Do we have any more lamb's blood?"

Dean's expression changed to annoyance, "Not after that dickbag Balthazar used it for that stupid parallel-universe crap." He crossed his arms over his chest and threw his head back in thought. "And where are we supposed to get it, anyway? We're in the middle of friggin' nowhere."

"Cas?"

"If we could even get a hold of him."

"I'm sure he's still listening, Dean. I know he's been here and there for a while, but-" Sam explained.

Whirling to face his brother, Dean countered, "'Here and there'? Sam, we basically wait three to five business days for him to give us anything. If he's so focused on Heaven right now, let him stay up there."

You had seen Dean's rising upset with his friend for a few weeks now, seeing the angel's presence less and less. Castiel didn't indulge any details, and kept recollections vague - but, the lack of transparency had been taking a toll on the group.

He’d been absent for two weeks now. Nothing.

Dean's lengthy sigh showed his stress. He brought a hand up to his brow; Sam rolled his head to stretch his neck in the passenger seat.

"I need a fuckin' beer," Dean breathed.

You laid a hand on his shoulder from the seat directly behind his - Sam was more conversational on long drives, so sitting on the left side gave good distraction in the long hours on the road. Dean craned his neck to you, looking to you expectantly.

Because as much as he didn't like to admit it, Dean craved the moments when you touched him.

You couldn’t tell if you spooked him, judging by the way Dean froze in his seat, eyes boring directly into yours. A grin spread across your face, "Let's get shitfaced."

Dean shook his head and pointed to you, "You don't wanna get to shitfaced level with me, sweetheart. Just a few beers. Plus, I’ve seen you get tipsy even after one."

Each of you started stepped out of the Impala, respectively stretching your achy legs, or arms, or backs or neck and everything else. No matter the hunt, the soreness remained the same. You released a groan as you lean backward, flexing your stiffened spine. Dean neared and landed a gentle pat between your shoulders to get you moving along.

You noticed how quickly Dean pushed ahead to open the front door, before you had the chance to lift a finger. He looked into the cracked door - an assessing glaze cast over his eyes. Always on the lookout for danger.

Who could keep you safer than Dean Winchester?

After all of his impressive feats so far, it’d be hard for someone not to admire Dean. Saving the world was easier on the drawing board, and with having been to hell and back, you couldn’t fathom the willpower he gained to push past it. Not a semblance of that traumatic experience showed in that handsome, stoic face.

Dean pressed the door ajar to make way for you and Sam. You scanned the tables and stools at the bar; patrons scattered around in clusters, each chattering and laughing amongst themselves.

The thick smell of liquor filled the air. You noticed the hints of whiskey, oddly reminding you of Dean, and the way that scent mixed with his cologne. You memorized that smell from his occasional hugs, or times where you’d sit together, and you’d wondered if he could hear your heart hammering in your chest.

Sam led the way toward a taller table in the corner of the joint, settling in a stool closest to the back emergency exit. You eyed the stool at the outer side, but a creeping feeling dawns on you - someone is staring. Settling into your stool, you took the chance to swivel around, looking for the source of that persistent feeling.

At the bar, a man with a scruffy beard had his eyes trained on yours, roving over your form in the chair. You exhaled, fighting back the feeling of disgust, and turned back to Sam, plastering on a terse smile.

“What is it?” Sam asked, his brows furrowing in concern.

You paled slightly, the man’s stare still honed in on your back, “Dude at the bar has a staring problem.”

Sam leaned casually to reach for his pocket, craning his head for a swift second. A glint in his eye told you he’d found the perpetrator. Footsteps approached from behind - a familiar pattern, one you’d heard every day, and without turning you’d known it was Dean. A careful brush of his hand between your shoulder blades eased you, a gentle reminder he was here.

“Bottoms up, buttercup,” Dean teased, placing a shot of amber liquor in front of you, himself, and then his brother.

Three lime wedges rested on a plate, along with a salt shaker. You glance at Dean with a ‘seriously?’ look, and he gave a signature Winchester grin. You did say you wanted to get shitfaced. And hell, it could help with that looming creep. You licked the back of your hand and sprinkled some salt.

“To figuring something out,” you proclaimed, raising the shot glass. The boys follow your lead before clinking them on the table, and tossing their heads back.

The tequila burns the back of your throat, but the lime helps you ignore it. Sam held a steady face while Dean grimaced at the burn.

You giggled softly, “Can’t handle tequila, Dean?”

He flashed a toothy grin, and a quick middle finger. Your giggle evolved into a bright laugh that drew one from Sam, too.

“Bet you couldn’t handle pool, though,” countered Dean.

Sam eyed you from the side and threw a knowing smirk. You’d never back down from a challenge, especially when it was Dean testing you. There was a desire to beat him at his own games, to show him you could match his skill and then some.

Then there was the chase of it - cycles of teasing comments and passing glances, but never a break in the tension.

Your voice lowers, “I’ll take you on any day, Winchester.”

The jest made Dean grin. The chase was on again.

Sam stayed behind when you and Dean claimed a vacant pool table, letting you set yourselves up for the perfect one-on-one.

Dean nodded to you and eyed the cue ball. You bend at the waist over the table, and felt the creeping feeling again. It radiated along your spine to the nape of your neck, as if your body was set ablaze under the stranger’s stare.

Until suddenly, you had company.

“Say, think you could spare me a game when you’re done, beautiful?”

The voice matched the face. It was nasally with a copious amount of douchery; another entitled asshole who got involved when he wasn’t wanted.

Across the table, Dean’s brow twitched.

“Listen bud, we’re just getting started here. Plenty of other folks in here who can play you,” the edge in Dean’s tone was a warning in and of itself.

You hitched a breath awaiting the man’s reaction.

Out of the corner of your eye you spotted Sam sliding off his barstool, slowly making his way closer to your pool table. He idly looked at his phone, but kept a watchful glance.

“I’m sure you’ll have the time for another one, right, baby?” The stranger’s words slurred stupidly. He didn’t address Dean with meeting his stare, and instead fought to have yours. He closed the gap between you two further - the smell of alcohol lingered on him, thick and nauseating.

You bark, “You’ve got ten seconds.”

“Oh…. hic… ten seconds ain’t enough for me, sweetheart..”

Dean’s voice was taunting, probably trying to pull the dickbag away from you, “It’s plenty for us.”

Finally, the man looked to Dean, straightening his posture at the height difference. He was lean, but couldn’t hold a firm stance, by the looks of it. The man scanned Dean top to bottom before turning back to you.

Before crossing a crucial line.

A foreign hand stroked your spine, making you recoil. Anger contorted your features as you warned him yourself.

“Try that again, fucker,” you spat with disgust. You could still feel the touch on your back. Gross.

The man’s lips tug into a smile, and the anger continued to brew. Of course, you were not the only one with that bubbling rage. Dean has closed the distance before you could register he’d moved at all.

Dean loomed over the man with a haunting glare. To add fuel to the fire, the man had the gall to grin at the threat, raising his hands to Dean’s chest.

“Come on, jus’ gavin’ a lil’ fun,” said the stranger.

In one swift motion, Dean collected the man’s wrists with one hand, and delivered a hook with the other.

The blow knocked his head to the side. Other patrons turned to the scene unfolding - some turned back to their drinks, some kept staring. You gasped when Dean landed another strike, sending the man tumbling to the floor with a resounding thud.

“Dean, that’s enough, he’s-“

He didn’t react to your objection.

Behind the commotion, Sam’s eyes widen with shock, though he smiles with satisfaction at the takedown.

A final shove put enough distance between you and the pathetic drunk. You turned to see the bartender giving Dean a stern look, but they return to filling a pint glass.

You panted softly while the stranger walked away, bracing his bloodied chin with his hand. You looked to Dean and found his attention back at the pool table, letting out a frustrated grunt. There wasn’t a way to thank him. No need. The man had made great strides in protecting you, enough to reassure that you didn’t have to offer thanks. It came naturally, protecting one another.

Sam made his way back to the table and returned to his stool, shaking his head in disbelief, a smile on his face.

What a night, right?

It was Dean’s voice that brought you back to your senses. That same voice that calmed you, that ignited your body to its core.

“Alright, sweetheart, you go first.”

——

“Dammit, whathefuck- that isn’t fair-“ you protested. You’d lost, but kept trying to knock the striped pool balls into the pockets, insisting that there was some sort of rule to let you go until you were fully done, including the cue ball.

Sam handed you a glass of water, which you sipped on immediately. Your fingertips slowly grew numb against the cold glass.

Dean chortled as he collected the pool balls, “Shitfaced and pool don’t mix well, do they?”

You let out a tipsy laugh and shake your head at him. The moment stilled, where the rest of the scene faded away. Dean scanned you over, and held a too-long look. A small spark lit behind his eyes.

“Let’s getcha home.”

Thank you for reading! I liked this idea, and I think it could easily have a second part. Vote in the poll or me know in the comments if you’d like to see where this goes!

#fanfiction #supernatural #spnfandom #spn #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural smut #bunny writes #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader

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comphetdean · 2 years

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like. this is the djinn with the other victim. the face-touching is a way to keep them sedated, and it’s seeping into their dreams with ppl touching their faces. (i wonder if those moments are significant irt whether they are starting to wake up? will think abt this further.) but also drives me insnae that this monster like so many others manifests as implied sexual assault. i don’t yet have coherent thoughts on either of these ideas right now, just putting it here so i can come back to it

#the timing of this all is very interesting too. like. time passes faster in their dreams and these face touch moments happen pretty often.#how often does the djinn touch them to keep them sedated? or is it not related to that at all?#maybe the face-touching is one of the last things they remember before going under so it happens often. or maybe dean is special and he's #just extremely touch starved and thats why.#but then WHY have the djinn touch his face too. it has to be related. hmmm #*comphetdean

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theidiotwhowritesthings · 1 year

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In a Perfect World, You Love Me [i]

din djarin x female!reader

warnings: injury, mentions of blood, cursing, derogatory name calling, forced drug exposure, hallucinations, light smut, angst, and some angst, and a little more angst just to top it off (actually this isn’t nearly as heartbreaking as some stuff i’ve written before lol), self doubt, anxiety, also cobb vanth is here. it’s not a warning but i love him so i wanted to mention it.🤷🏻��♀️

word count: 6,961

Summary: On the way to visit an old friend, you and Mando find trouble. Both of you are subjected to a drug that puts you in your perfect world. But, when you can’t tell what’s real and what isn’t, how do you know what to trust?

a/n: bitches be planning out short drabbles about heart break only for it to turn into a long wordy mess. it’s me. i’m bitches. anybody know the show supernatural? it’s a show about like dramatic ass sad brothers who travel the country fighting monsters? (i know you know i’m being sarcastic). i watched that one episode where the djinn puts dean in like a dream world and it inspired this. i wanted to name it ‘din djarin’s djinn dream’ but that seemed a bit too on the nose.

“sometimes it is not love that breaks your heart. it is disappointment.”

-r.m. drake

Grogu was safe. That was the first thought that came to mind. You were so incredibly grateful that Mando had decided to leave the small child with Peli at the shop. It had been a last minute call. Weirdly, you were also thankful that you hadn’t stayed behind. You nearly did. Traveling through the Dune Sea was an absolutely miserable experience between the heat and the sand. It would have been so much more comfortable to just sit in the shop, cuddle with Grogu, and watch Peli con her customers.

However, when Mando mentioned he was going to Mos Pelgo you jumped at the chance to visit Cobb Vanth. It had been ages since you last saw the man, and you were eager to catch up with the marshal. So you climbed onto Mando’s rented land speeder, wrapped your arms around his beskar armor, and the two of you set off. What was supposed to be a simple day trip to greet an old friend and ask for a favor turned into a Maker forsaken nightmare.

Your face was throbbing in pain, you tasted blood in your mouth, and you were fairly certain your right wrist was broken based on the swelling and discoloration. Despite all of that, despite the pain and fear, the thought occurred to you once more. You were so thankful you were here.

“How pathetic.” The smuggler cackled amongst his small crew. “You’re going to protect the Mandalorian from us? You dumb bitch.”

Five dangerous men stood at the rim of the pit you were trapped in while Mando laid motionless behind you. There was a bit of blood pooling from out of the bottom of his helmet, onto the sand, and the only comfort you had that Mando was still with you was the slow rise and fall of his chest.

The smugglers had set a trap that Mando and you had fallen right into. As your land speeder tripped a wire it caused a blast that had both of you falling into a pit. The damned thing was deep enough to leave both of you injured and you prayed that your injuries were worse than Mando’s and he was just out cold for a moment. Your attackers began to argue amongst one another and you stayed on high alert. Mando and you were fish in a barrel. They could rain blaster fire down on you and there would be nothing you could do about it. The only reason you hadn’t grabbed Mando’s blaster to fire up is because you didn’t want to trigger a massacre.

“Shoot her dead then climb down and collect the beskar. Easy.” One smuggler scoffed and pulled out his blaster. You flinched but the loudest of the men, the leader, shoved the blaster’s aim away from you. “What?”

“The moment we try and get off world we’re gonna get stopped by those damned pirates again.” He snapped. “We keep the girl alive and hand her over as the tax we pay to pass free. We keep all the Mandalorian’s armor to ourselves.”

“Who’d want a bitch over beskar?”

“Oh, trust me.” The lead smuggler chuckled and the sound made you cringe. You set your hand in Mando’s gloved one and wished more than anything his grip would tighten around you rather than stay limp. “I know the man running the show right now, and he’s got a weakness for pretty little things.”

You tried to hide the tremble that shook your frame and you whispered for Mando to wake up⏤ for him to hear you. The lead smuggler opened his bag and you grasped Mando’s blaster. As threateningly as you could manage, you barked out. “You come down here and I’ll kill you. You hear me?!”

“Aw, she’s got some bite. Maybe we should keep her instead.”

“Shut the hell up.” The lead snapped and continued to root through his bag. “Where the kriff is that damned spice bomb?” Your eyebrows furrowed. Spice was bad news. It wasn’t something you ever wanted to touch. You had seen what the addiction could do to people, and you had a very bad feeling about what a spice bomb would be. “There it is.”

Panic hit you, and you lifted the blaster to start firing but the leader tossed a glowing red ball down into the pit and the smugglers dove away from the hole. The ball exploded mid way down into a cloud of red dust that rained down on you and Mando. You tried to cover your mouth and nose with the bottom of your shirt, but it was to no avail. Your entire body grew heavy, collapsing on top of Mando’s chest, and a sharp, tingling sensation washed over you before your eyes fell shut.

Din woke with a start⏤ panting and desperate for air. His mind was filled with a heavy fog that he tried to swim through to gather his bearings. There had been a wire. Din noticed it much too late and he remembered the ground swallowing you and him whole. You. Your scream was the last thing he could recall.

His hands drifted to his face and Din hated that it was only then that he noticed he wasn’t wearing a helmet. He blamed the fog. Din scrambled about the soft bed he realized he was tucked into as he searched the space around him for his armor. Din was in a bedroom he didn’t recognize wearing only a pair of sleep pants. Dank farrik. Din leapt out of bed but stumbled rather than landed with any amount of grace. Where was he? Where were you??

He forced himself to take a steadying breath and centered himself.

The bedroom was small. Only a large bed, a clothing dresser, and two nightstands on either side of the bed. The walls were painted a soft blue, two doors leading out, and one wall had a window that spanned nearly the entire length of the room. Din blinked in confusion. Outside was a bustling city with towering pillar-like buildings and early morning light spilling down through holes in the upper shelf casting light on a city that was very much alive. Din knew where he was. He just didn’t know how he got here or how this was even possible.

“Sundari?” He breathed in shock. Din had only seen images of the cities of Mandalore. Sundari, the domed capital city, being the most infamous of all. This must have been a dream. Exactly how hard had he hit his head in the fall?

Din, in all his distraction, hadn’t even noticed the sound of running water until it stopped. He spun on his heel and stared at the door in the corner which must have led into a fresher. Din wasn’t alone. His hand snapped to his hip for his blaster but met air. Maker, he’d be happy when this concussion finally passed. He scanned the room for any kind of weapon he could use and as he grasped the nightstand drawer he froze. Sitting on top of the small table was a holo image being projected up from a disk as decor.

It was a photo of you and Grogu. Din narrowed his eyes at it in confusion. The two of you were at a park of some kind, but he couldn’t recall where or when this had occurred. The door opened, making Din jump in surprise. Fine, concussion or not, he’d fight his way out by hand. However, as if he couldn’t possibly be caught more off guard, you stepped out of the bathroom wearing only a towel.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I wake you up?” You stepped toward him and Din stayed frozen in place. Your hands came up to run across his bare chest before settling on his waist where you continued to trace your fingertips up and down in a repetitive pattern. There was so much happening at once that Din didn’t even know what to think. It didn’t help that the moment your skin touched his, his mind seemed to short circuit. “I was trying to let you sleep in for at least a little.”

Ever since you had confessed to him weeks ago that you wanted more than just a friendship Din had been plagued with dreams of you. Visions of you moaning under him as he buried himself into your warmth, of you riding his cock while his hands explored your body, of him simply holding you in his arms and memorizing your features unimpeded by his helmet. But never had it ever felt this real.

“Din?” You tilted your head. Hearing his name from your lips, he shuddered. How was this happening? You staring up at his bare face and whispering his name in concern.

Din tried to open his mouth and speak, but his voice had left him. When you confessed to him, it had taken every fiber of his being to not react. As much as he cared about you, as badly as he wanted you, he knew it was a bad idea. Din knew he had to draw a line to keep you safe. He was dangerous and Din knew it was selfish of him to keep you and Grogu around despite that. He always figured the two of you would go your separate ways when the jedi were found and Grogu was delivered, but Din would never be able to say good-bye to you if he crossed that line. So he lied. Told you he didn’t feel the same and walked away leaving you teary eyed and broken hearted.

You frowned. Your eyebrows furrowed and he had the overwhelming urge to smooth out your brow with his fingers. Trace every inch of your face with his hands. “You look sad, love.” You lifted your hands to cup his face. “Did you have that nightmare again?”

“Wh⏤What?” Din’s voice was quiet and ragged.

“We’re safe now. You don’t have to worry.” You caressed his cheek. “Me, you, and Grogu. We’re all safe. We have a home. Our days of running are over.”

Din shook his head. “No, no. We were in the Dune Sea. I⏤I missed the trip wire and we fell. You were hurt. We⏤”

“Din, that was so long ago. Out of all the bantha shit we’ve dealt with I’m surprised that memory is the one plaguing you.” You said.

Din pulled out of your arms. “It wasn’t. It just happened. You’re lost⏤ You’re hurt. I have to⏤”

“I’m not lost. I’m not hurt. I’m safe, right here with you, in our home. Grogu is still sleeping down the hall. There’s no place safer for our son and I.” You set your hands on his chest once more. “Grogu with his buir, and I with my riduur.”

Din was so shocked by the Mando’a that left your lips that he didn’t even register the soft kiss you pressed in the middle of his chest. Right where his iron heart would be if he had his armor on. You stepped away from him, walking to the dresser off to the side, and Din watched you go until you let the towel fall from your body. He forced his gaze up to the ceiling to keep from staring. Something felt wrong. Was this a dream? Was he dead?

Din didn’t trust the world around him.

You startled awake. A cloud of panic and fear drowning you.

“Mando!?” The nickname left your lips before you even registered a thought. You scrambled to sit up, arms reaching out to try and find purchase, but it was too dark to see anything. Even without your sight, something felt familiar about the material under your body and the comforting smell surrounding you, but the last memory of the smugglers dropping the spice bomb had too much adrenaline rushing through your body for you to think properly.

The wall in front of you shot up with a metallic click and a light blinded you. Hands grabbed your calves and you screamed again trying to kick them off. “Mesh’la! You’re safe!” Mando’s modulated voice filled the air. “You’re on the Razor Crest. You’re in my bunk.”

Your eyes adjusted to the light and you recognized your setting. That’s why it was familiar. Mando’s scent surrounded you as you were nestled in the blankets and pillow he used to sleep. Standing at the bunk’s entrance was the Mandalorian himself. He looked unharmed, but he always looked unharmed when he was covered from head to toe in his beskar.

“Mando!” You cried in alarm and launched yourself at him. He didn’t complain when you wrapped your arms around him tightly. Mando simply held onto you and kept you from knocking him over. This should be awkward considering how he had bluntly said he felt nothing for you only weeks ago. But, you were so relieved that he was safe and alive that you didn’t care. His hands rubbed your back soothingly as he mumbled soft reassurances. “I thought you⏤ I thought we⏤”

“We’re safe, mesh’la.” Mando replied.

You leaned back and he kept his arms around you. “What happened? The last thing I remember…” It hurt to try and pull the memory out of your own head. Spice bomb. Red dust had rained over you and Mando. You passed out on top of him. “The⏤The bomb.”

“It knocked you out.” Mando said. “My helmet filtered it out, I think. I woke up with you on top of me and the smugglers were climbing down. We fought. I won. Then I carried you back to Peli’s.”

“All of that happened?”

“We’re in hyperspace now.”

“How,” You shook your head, “How long was I out?”

“Two days. The spice hit your systems hard. I was⏤” Mando cleared his throat, the sound scratchy through the modulator. “I was worried about you, mesh’la.”

It was only then you realized you still had your hands resting on his shoulders and he had his own wrapped around your waist as you sat on your knees⏤ the bunk making the two of you eye level. You swallowed nervously. “I, uh, it was you I was worried about. Your head. I thought I saw blood when you were out cold.”

“Small injury. Only took one round of bacta to clear up.”

“Good.”

“You, on the other hand,” Mando mumbled. He brushed his gloved fingers across your face. The touch lingered on your cheekbone. The same one that had hit the ground hard enough to make your face throb. Mando pulled his other hand away to wrap around your non-bruised and non-swollen wrist. How much bacta had he used to get all your injuries healed in two days? “Mesh’la, I am so sorry.”

You shook your head. “None of that was your fault.”

Mando kept quiet, as if he didn’t agree but didn’t know what else to say. The sound of a soft coo made you lean forward and peer around the edge of the bunk where Grogu was standing by the ladder leading up to the cockpit. He lifted his arms and waddled closer. Mando released you to pick the small child up. Grogu whined until Mando set him in your lap and you didn’t hesitate to cuddle the boy to your chest.

Thank the Maker, he hadn’t been with the two of you. You let out another sigh of relief. It seemed like you and Mando had gotten out of the pit by luck alone and you don’t know what you would’ve done if Grogu had been harmed during the whole thing.

“Here. Let’s get you some food.” Mando set a hand on your elbow to help you slide out of the bunk. What caught you off guard was when he let his hand travel from your arm to your lower back as he led you toward the ladder. You couldn’t help but let your eyes wander over his entire frame. Mando was a good man. It wasn’t the shiny, silver metal of a Mandalorian you were attracted to or the reputation of a dangerous and strong bounty hunter. You had fallen for the kind and protective man who hid under both of those roles. Mando’s head turned to stare back at you and a thrill went down your spine. He whispered your name.

You took a step away and cleared your throat. Mando let his arm fall away. Your obsession with him, your stupid idiotic crush on him, had you misreading signals left and right. The only reason you had confessed was because you convinced yourself that he was shooting you lingering looks and that every brush of his hand against you was purposeful and not a mistake made in passing.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled. Mando had made his position clear, and you were done crossing the lines and boundaries he had set.

“Can you get up to the flight deck alright?” Mando asked and you nodded. “I’ll bring you something to eat.”

Mando tilted his head toward the ladder and he waited until you began to climb⏤ as if he was worried you’d fall off mid-way up. When you got upstairs, you settled into the co-pilot’s chair with Grogu in your lap and stared out at the blurring lines of hyperspace. A small smile settled on your features.

The world around you was right again.

Din felt more like himself once he had his armor on. It still felt like the world around him was spinning and nothing made sense, but his beskar was like a heavy, impenetrable comfort blanket. He sat in a kitchen, helmet on, as he stared out at Sundari through a window that sat near a dining table. It seemed the home around him was part of a tower inside the domed city, and Din still couldn’t wrap his brain around that. The sound of footsteps startled him and he turned in time to see you padding down the hall with Grogu in your arms. He pushed to stand⏤ seeing the small child putting him at ease.

“Why do you have your helmet on?” You asked after handing Grogu to him. The child bounced in his arms chanting a recognizable sound asking for food. “Are you leaving already? Don’t you want breakfast?”

Din stayed quiet. You moved around the kitchen with the ease of someone who did this regularly, and he watched you make a meal. It didn’t make sense, he didn’t understand, but he couldn’t deny the attraction he felt toward you being so domestic. Especially after you had just claimed that he was your partner, your husband, your riduur.

“Come here, cutie.” You cooed to Grogu and he let you take the boy from him. You set him in a little high chair and set a bowl of food in front of him. As per usual, Grogu didn’t hesitate to begin scarfing down what was in front of him. You lovingly pressed a kiss to his head then walked over to lean at the corner of the kitchen island next to him. “Din, please talk to me.” He clenched and unclenched his fists. “You’re starting to scare me.”

“I’m sorry, Mesh’la.” He sighed.

You had shifted even closer to the bar stool he sat on. Din tensed when your hands settled on his thighs and you stepped between them. Slowly, you took his hand in yours and began to peel his gloves off. Din sucked in a breath, but couldn’t find a complaint to speak. You did the same thing with his other hand. Finally, your hands rested on his helmet, but you didn’t move. Not until Din gave a small nod. You pulled his helmet off carefully, respectfully resting it on the counter, and Din felt his features soften as he stared at you. Maker, you were beautiful.

“Din, listen to me, I love you.” You said. A pretty smile spread across your features and you took his face between your hands. “But if you don’t tell me what’s going on, I am going to kick your ass.” He chuckled and leaned into your touch. Was Din losing his mind? If this was insanity, it felt so good that Din really didn't think he minded. “Are you… Are you having one of your mornings?”

“One of my… mornings?” Din furrowed his brow.

“You know, when the nightmare doesn’t end.” You whispered.

Din shook his head. “This isn’t a nightmare. It’s a dream. A dream I don’t deserve.” He let his hands rest on top of yours with the plan to pull them away, but he was too weak to actually go through with it. Din sighed, “I lied to you.” A flash of confusion crossed your features. “I said I didn’t care about you in the same way you felt about me, but it was a lie. From the moment you stepped onto the Razor Crest I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind. Mesh’la, you are my world.”

“Din, are you…” You paused then a small laugh left you, “Maker, are you talking about when we were trying to get to Mos Pelgo, still? I confessed to you and then we got caught weeks later and…” You shook your head. “Don’t scare me like that. When you said you were sorry and you lied, I was worried something had happened. It’s just a bad morning. They always pass.”

“What are you talking about?” Din asked.

“Fine. I’ll jump start your memory.” You pushed up on your tiptoes and then sat on his thigh. Naturally, his hands went around your waist to keep you from falling and your hands wrapped around his neck. “You confessed to me. It happened months later. You’re an incredible bounty hunter, but you move slow as hell, Din.” He narrowed his eyes. “It was right after we decided to keep Grogu with us. Become a real family. For the record, it also took you way too long to propose to me too.”

Din could picture it all and it made everything so much more confusing. Had that happened? No. Not yet. Yet? Had he meant to think of that word? Yet? Din wasn’t planning any of that, but it sounded right. No part of him thought he deserved you or Grogu, but Maker this was what he always wanted. It was the life he craved, but was too broken to admit aloud.

“But,” Din tried to find a tether to hold him in reality, “Sundari. We live in Sundari? Mandalore is dead.”

“No, it wasn’t. The poison the Empire caused faded away. We rebuilt.” The sound of a door chime made you glance over your shoulder. “Kriff. She’s here early.” You slid off his lap. “Grogu, we’re gonna be late! Let’s get you cleaned up so Soran can walk you to school.”

Din watched you scoop Grogu up, the boy gave him a wave he returned numbly, and the two of you disappeared down the hall. Were his fears the reason he was confused? What if what you said was right? He was just trapped in a nightmare and it was keeping him from living his life. Din had finally taken the leap, taken the chance, and found his perfect home. Now, his fear was crawling back and trying to ruin it again. Din always did this. He always fought himself. It was why he had denied your initial confession and wasted so much time in the first place.

Moments passed, he could hear you moving around the home with Grogu. Until finally the door chime rang again. Din stood up and faced the hall. Seconds later, you stepped back into view. You gave him a bright smile.

“Alright, where were we?”

Fully accepting this for what it was, Din marched toward you. Your feet came to a stuttering stop and an excitement filled your eyes. You knew what he was doing before even he knew entirely. Din basically tackled you, pressing your body as tight as he could to his chest, and crushed his lips to yours. You responded immediately. Your hands wrapping around his neck as his tongue found it’s way past your lips. Din let his hands trail down your back, over your ass, under your thighs, and with ease began to pick you up. Just like with the kiss, you were on the same page as he was. You jumped just enough for him to lift you off the ground and your legs wrapped around his waist⏤ locking your ankles at his back.

Din had planned to carry you down the hall, back to the bedroom, but he felt you grind against him and that plan went right out the window. He slammed you against the wall, lips leaving yours to trail down your neck. Maker, he wanted you. Keeping you pinned to the wall with his hips, relying on your grip around his waist and neck, Din pulled his hands away so he could grab the collar of your shirt. He ripped it down to the middle of your torso so his mouth could reach your breasts.

“I liked that shirt, you know.” You gasped, but the way you kept trying to find friction against his hard on told him you didn’t like it all that much.

“I’ll buy you a new one.” Din replied before leaving open mouth kisses down your chest. One hand went back to cup around your thigh and the other yanked your breast band down so his mouth could wrap around your nipple. The unholy moan that left your lips nearly made him come undone right then and there.

“You’re going to be late to work. They need you today.”

“Mesh’la, I don’t kriffing care.” Din said after pulling his lips away from your breast. His mouth found its way back to yours and after leaving a messy kiss there he pulled away only far enough to speak. “As far as I’m concerned the only place I’m needed is right between your thighs.”

Din licked into your mouth, and he was startled when your hands untangled from around his neck. Then, with great proficiency, you began to unlatch his armor. His vambrace and left pauldron fell to the ground with a heavy thunk. “How did you do that so fast? How’d you know where the latches were?”

“I’m your wife, dummy.” You unlatched his right one, it joined the other on the floor, then you ripped the cloak out from under the top of his chest piece and pulled down on the collar of his shirt so you could leave too soft, teasing kisses against the hollow of his throat. “Now, either keep carrying me down the hall to our bed or drop me on the floor⏤ I don’t care, I just need you to fuck me.”

Din was not going to make it to the bedroom.

You rose from your seat with Grogu nestled in your arms sleeping. It hadn’t taken long for the boy to fall asleep between the warmth of your arms and the silence of hyperspace. As you drifted toward the door, Mando spoke up.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m gonna put him in his hammock is all.” You whispered.

Mando glanced over his shoulder at you then nodded. “Good. Come back up when you’re done.”

Your eyebrows raised in surprise but you gave him a quiet confirmation before leaving the cockpit. You made your way down the ladder slowly and carefully so you didn’t wake or drop the little green gremlin snoring against your chest. You chuckled and rubbed his back while crossing the cargo hold. When you set him in the hammock, he stirred briefly and you took the time to lightly rock the hammock while humming him a lullaby. Only when you were convinced he had fallen back into a restful sleep did you find your way back to the cockpit.

“He’s down for the count.” You joked and dropped back into your chair.

Mando flipped a few switches on the panel before spinning the pilot’s seat so he was facing you. Your eyes widened and you shifted awkwardly in place. The weight of his heavy stare on you was intense. It burned into you and for a brief second you were sure he could see straight into your soul.

“What’s going on?” You asked. “You okay?”

“I could’ve lost you.” Mando whispered. “I don’t know what I would have done.”

“It’s over, Mando. We don’t have to think about it anymore.”

“It’s not over, mesh’la. There will always be another fight, another opportunity for someone to take you from me.” He argued.

Mando wasn’t wrong. Your lives were a constant battle to maintain the upper hand over all the people trying to take Grogu and harm both of you. It was the exact reason why you had found the courage to confess to him in the first place. You stupidly convinced yourself that you didn’t want to lose anymore time⏤ waste another second. The silence in the cockpit was agonizing. You wanted so badly to break it, but you had no idea what to say to do so.

Luckily, Mando did not have that same problem.

“Come here, mesh’la.” He motioned you toward him with the curling motion of his fingers. You swallowed the lump that had suddenly formed in the middle of your throat like a rock. “Please.” The word was spoken softly, but there was a firm undertone that made it feel less like a request and more like a command. You stood up and took the single shaky step that was required to put you in his reach. Mando’s hands found your hips and he startled you by pulling you into his lap. With a yelp of surprise, you were forced to rest your knees on the outside of his thighs. The moment you were situated Mando spread his own thighs further so each of your legs were pinned between him and the chair and you were even more open to him. “Oh, sweet girl…”

“Mando. What⏤ What are you doing?” You whispered. Your entire face felt hot⏤ kriff, every inch of you felt hot.

He shook his head, his hands roaming up and down your sides, “I never should have said no to you. What happened, it made me realize how much,” Mando raised a gloved hand to your face, “how much I care about you.”

“Wait, really?” You breathed. It was the stupidest kind of response to give and you hated that you just blurted it out. Mando chuckled in response, and you shook your head. “Mando, maybe you’re just… feeling this way because what happened was so fresh. We should give it a little time⏤”

“I spent two days waiting for you to open those pretty eyes for me, sweet girl.” Mando cut in. “I’m not losing another second with you.”

The hand fell from your face to rest on your shoulder and, with the other still on your hip, Mando pressed you down on top of him. He shifted his own hips so he could drag the hard bulge in his pants against your core. A sharp gasp of surprise left your lips. Mando kept you pressed against him and when he dragged his hip against yours again the sensation caused you to groan this time.

“Dank farrik.” Mando grunted as he bucked up against you⏤ this time you moved your own hips to add to the friction and he moaned. The sound of him losing control shot straight to your core and you let your hands rest on his chest so you could grind into him more. Maker, you wanted to hear that sound again.

Mando sat up straight and the only thing keep you from tumbling off his lap was the hand he wrapped around your waist. He reached past you, hands hitting switches and buttons, and suddenly the entire panel of flickering lights went dead. “Mando?” You questioned. He hit one more switch and you glanced over your shoulder to watch as the windows darkened until the lights of hyperspace couldn’t be seen. Nothing could be seen. A hiss of pressure release, then a hand took hold of your jaw to turn you back so you faced forward.

“Mesh’la.” Mando whispered. Before you had only heard his unmodulated voice from a distance, as he was eating out of sight or lying in his bunk with the door closed. But, now it was closer than you could ever imagine. He mumbled your name and you could feel the movement of his lips just barely brushing against yours⏤ his hot breath on your face. “Say you want me, mesh’la.”

You took in a deep breath and nodded. “I want you, Mando. I’ve always wanted you.”

Rather than pressing his lips to yours as you wanted, Mando lifted you with ease and pressed you against the control panel. Something sharp was jabbing you in the back, but you didn’t care. Mando’s leather gloves roughly yanked your pants down, underwear and all. You had lifted your hips just enough to help him, but when you lowered yourself back into a seated position you hissed at the cold metal against your bare skin.

You lifted your hands to find his shoulders, you wanted to feel his face, but Mando’s hands grabbed you by the wrists and pinned them to the panel by your head. He leaned over you and slowly dragged his hard cock, hidden behind his flight suit, against your already dripping wet lips⏤ but it wasn’t the only lips you wanted touched.

“Kiss me, please.” You begged and tried to lift your head to find his, but he leaned back just enough to avoid you. “Mando, I want to feel you⏤ all of you⏤ please.”

“Not yet, mesh’la. Be patient.” His entire weight was pressing down on you. “Good girls are patient, and only good girls get rewarded. Is that what you want, mesh’la? To be my good girl?” You nodded, breathless from the agonizingly slow way he was grinding into you. “Words, mesh’la.”

“Yes.” You gasped. “Please, Mando, please⏤”

“How lucky am I?” Mando hummed. “To have such a pretty girl begging under me. I’ve wanted to make you fall apart since the moment you stepped onto my ship.” You tensed as an alarm began to faintly ring at the back of your mind. Something inside you was trying to warn you. Mando kept whispering loving words on top of you. “You’re mine, mesh’la. You’ve always been mine and you always will be.”

“No.” You tried to squirm out from under him, but Mando was much too large and much too heavy for you to even move an inch. “No, no, no.”

Taking the hint, Mando released your hands and jumped away from you. Breathless, you tried to sit up and gather your bearings. “What is it, mesh’la? What’s wrong?”

“This is wrong.” You shook your head.

“No, it’s right. This is what you want, this is what I want.”

“No, it’s not.” A sob left you. “You don’t want me. You said so yourself. You don’t want me. This isn’t right.” Your head was beginning to pound in pain and Mando’s voice sounded like it was suddenly far away. The cold metal under you was beginning to turn hot and the firm smoothness of the control panel was taking on a new texture⏤ something grainy that shifted under you. The darkness turned to a blinding light and you gasped as pain began to settle into you.

Your face was throbbing, you tasted blood in your mouth, and your right wrist was aching. Now you had a pounding headache as well. You blinked your eyes, trying to clear the blurriness out of your vision, and you saw a man climbing down a ladder into the pit you laid in. The smugglers. The spice bomb. Your hand tightened around the blaster you had taken from Mando and you lifted your heavy arm to fire at the man. It hit him in the back and he fell from the ladder and landed motionless only a few feet away.

You blindly fired shots up to the ridge of the pit. Over and over⏤ not knowing what else to do. You fired so much that you never noticed the sound of someone else’s blaster mingling with yours. A familiar voice was calling out to you, but it wasn’t Mando. Your heavy arm sunk back into the sand, blaster falling loose, and your eyes began to droop in exhaustion.

You wished it was Mando calling for you.

You woke up slowly. Your entire body was sore and it took straight willpower to get your eyes to stay open. There was a thin cot underneath you and a flickering fire ahead of you. A groan fell from your lips as you tried to sit up.

“Whoa, whoa,” A familiar voice said, “Slow down there, little lady.”

“Vanth?” You tried to turn to find your friend, but a warm hand kept you from moving too much. Suddenly, Cobb Vanth was kneeling beside you with a charming grin. Your entire body sagged in relief. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you right now.”

Vanth rubbed his jawline and gave you a wink, “I am much better looking than those damned smugglers, huh? How’d you and Mando get caught up in all that mess?”

“Mando!” You sat up quickly, immediately wincing when a sharp pain shot through you.

“Maker, darling.” Vanth scolded. “Your tin man is doing just fine. He’ll feel just as shitty as you when he finally wakes up.”

You glanced around and just as Vanth said your companion was lying on a small rolled out cot of his own. The firelight dancing as it reflected off his beskar. “He’s really okay? I think he had a head injury.”

“He’s fine. I promise you.” You nodded and Vanth offered you a canteen of water. As he asked, you began to tell him the story of what happened. It didn’t take long until you reached the point of the story that made your cheeks warm. Vanth noticed your hesitance and bumped his shoulder into yours. “Say your piece.”

“They threw a spice bomb and… and some weird shit happened.”

“Yeah, a spice bomb will do that to you.”

“What is it?”

“Depends. What’d you see?”

You paused before shrugging. “I was on the Razor Crest. Traveling with Mando and Grogu. Like always. It was… it felt so real.”

“Probably glitterstim then.” Vanth made you drink more water. “I have no idea how you broke out of it.”

“What do you mean?”

“The drug should’ve put you under. Place you in a happy haze of the thing you want most and trap you there for as long as the drug runs its course. Too much and you can end up dying in that perfect little world.” Vanth explained. “Usually, you can’t get out unless someone hits you with an antidote. Something to cancel the effects of the glitterstim. Unless…”

“Unless?”

“Unless you shock yourself out of it.” Vanth shrugged. “It all happens quick. In the first few minutes you either fall into the spice’s trap or you snap through it. The fact that I saw you wake up and shoot that smuggler is quite the feat, darling. How’d you do it?”

You wrapped your arms around your legs and rested your chin on your knees. The drug in your system deemed your perfect world to be Mando confessing how badly he wanted you. How pathetic was that? You didn’t stay under because even in a drugged out haze your mind knew that it was fake. Mando didn’t want you. Not the way you wanted him. Tears filled your eyes. Vanth didn’t press for you to answer and instead set his arm around your shoulder as a comfort. You leaned into him and fell asleep.

Every single part of Din’s body hurt. It reminded him of when the mudhorn had tossed him around like a ragdoll. Every atom in his body though, despite the pain, screamed danger. Din forced himself to sit up, blaster drawn. He was in the desert, by a fire in the dead of night. Across from him, he saw Cobb Vanth sitting there casually. Din’s blaster was pointed at him, but Vanth just gave him a slight wave.

“Hey there, brother.” He greeted. “You can put the blaster away.”

“What⏤” Din began to ask, but then his eyes landed on you. Your head rested against Vanth’s thigh and he had one hand resting on your shoulder. Part of your face looked bruised and even from this distance he could see your busted lip.

“Smugglers got the jump on y’all. Hit you with a spice bomb.�� Din holstered his blaster and cursed. Dank farrik. Whispers of his dream world lingered in his mind and Din had to shake his head to try and rid himself of the way your lips felt against his skin. “You’re lucky.”

“This is lucky?” Din asked dryly. Maker, his body ached.

“Little lady here broke free of the spice dream.” Vanth said. Din’s eyes widened in surprise. He didn’t know what he wanted to know more⏤ what your perfect world had looked like or how you had broken out of it. Vanth’s hand was tracing shapes on your shoulder as you slept and Din frowned at the touch. Coming from an imaginary world where he was fucking you, his wife, to reality where you were sleeping against another man was jarring. “You got stuck in it. Tell me, Mando, what was your perfect world?”

You were. You were his perfect world.

But, Din couldn’t bring himself to admit that in his current reality.

#the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #mando #mando x reader #mando x you #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x you #cobb vanth #din djarin smut #a smidge of angst #idiots in love #pining

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