#mature and healing love

[heels4milf]

Mature is better than teen

[thatbuddie]

[shirks-all-responsibilities]

I was really struck by these lines, pondering how there’s nothing quite like finding someone who feels like a treasured safe haven when you’re with them, a home in the deepest soul-reaching depths of the word, to have that person be someone who loves you deeply…

“Not like before, not in desperation, or anger, or fear. None of those emotions are present, here, safe and surrounded by everything you call home, held by one you love and who loves you…Yes, love is simple compared to this, this fullness, this sense of belonging. This sense of home.”

For both of them it much be such an achingly beautiful thing to feel, for the first time in their lives…it’s a feeling that feels so much more grounded, so deeply at peace, consoled and soothed to the center of one’s self…there’s something about this infused in this whole finale of a chapter for me. These kind of deep, soul-touching feelings are so much more quiet and profound than the intensity of heart-bursting emotional feels that don’t quite reach those depths. When I got to the part where Tionas laid down on her stomach with her back bared so openly for him, I got very quiet and very still…there was such a profound reverence I felt, what a powerful moment, it meant so much, was so transformative and healing. And then to transition into the intimacy that follows, his chest against her back, the eye contact…HOLY FKN INTIMACY?????? I need a new word to even begin to convey that kind of intimacy??? The English language is FAILING meeeee?? And that short line, “Your world is filled with him,” just about says it all for me? How it conveys how he is literally everything to her, in all senses? Encompassing literally EVERYTHING?

And look, the sexytimes are hot as always but now they are Profound Sexytimes™, which sounds ridiculous 😆, but like…again English why are you failingggg meeee?

“It’s more than just physical want. It’s something else entirely, an intuition, pulling you together. Weaving through the air, your touch, your shared breath, your heartbeats, frantic for more. Pressing deeper, through emotion and thought and consciousness into the very core of your being.”

I LOVE how this feeling is so evident in this chapter, after the build up of the story so far, of how everything for these two is going so far beyond the surface level, beyond emotional swells and BIG grandiose feels that can seem like they are the deepest one can go, to some far deeper level of the CORE of their selves. The way the tears gently stream down her face, the energy of the chapter…it’s like there is this gentle, slowed down undercurrent to the energy of everything here, that these two have earned after their long journey...a sort of paradoxical calming when things reach their greatest profundity. 😊

And in the context of Profound Sexytimes™, you had to go and just DROP THIS LINE THERE, ALL CASUAL LIKE:

“Another small wave of pleasure courses through your limbs, trembles in your thighs, and he opens his eyes, gaze meeting yours as his glistening tongue laps up your slick, brows creased in utter indulgence.”

Brows created in utter indulgence?? BROWS CREASED IN UTTER INDULGENCE?????? UTTER?? INDULGENCE?? Oh my GODDDD, like, the slow pacing of how this sentence unfolds to end in such POETRY and how LOST Din is in the moment is JUST…ENGLISH WHYYYYY.

“You’re reaching for him, fingers tracing his features. He closes his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, blinking them back open to meet your gaze and your heart stutters with a jolt of something so pure it must be joy.”

And THIS moment, kinda like the one above in that WHAT IS IT ABOUT seeing a person open their eyes from a state of closure, about gazing at them at that very moment of opening, connecting with them, ahhhhh it’s so precious!! And that “You’re falling, sinking into those dark brown depths ...” OH THIS just says EVERYTHING about what she’s feeling at that moment.

That “You’re ok” Din says near the beginning, what he is actually saying and what she’s feeling is 1000 times deeper. And that ending, “Yeah. Everything is perfect” WAS PERFECT. Simple, incredibly meaningful and calm, a feeling she’s never had until then…it’s everything that she’s feeling wrapped up in one short phrase. I was smiling at that closure, loved it my friend.

You should feel SO PROUD of finishing this fic, of writing so many words, and sharing this beautiful story with us? I can't believe it's over! I knew it was coming and it feels like such a perfect closure, but I still can't quite believe it!

To close, here is a live snapshot of me basking in the Profound Feels™ this chapter and closure of this fic inspired in me:

🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

The Fifth Step - Chapter Thirty-Eight

Part of The World Is Light, Embodied.

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 6100

Warnings, etc.: smut, like hella descriptive but you should anticipate that by now, and FEELS, tender smutty feels, omg the FEELS, I just think it needs to be noted a few times given how much there is, a little bit of angst at the beginning but that clears up real quick, sweet moment of domesticity for our perfect little family 🥰

Notes: This is it. The end of The World Is Light, Embodied. I’ve added a note to the end of this chapter because I can’t contain myself (shocking, I know) and it ended up being way too long and wordy (also shocking) but in summary, I love you all.

Mando’a translations at the end of the chapter.

Please check out the Series Masterlist page for more info.

Ok. Deep breath. Go.

You’re hovering. 

You know it, there’s no real reason for you to still be here, leaning against the wall of the hold, watching the kid sleep. 

The hold of the ship is almost pitch-dark as the last few minutes of the day cycle tick away. Now that the kid is down, you should be moving through your usual nighttime routine - tidying up, reviewing what needs to be done tomorrow, getting yourself ready to slip into bed with Din once he’s done in the cockpit. 

But something stays your feet, holds your gaze fixed to the slight rise and fall of that little chest. 

An archetypal protectiveness, a need to have the kid in your line of sight, to know that he’s safe. 

Even now, when he’s snug in his hammock, snoring lightly, tiny clawed hand curled around his stuffed frog. 

A tightness in your chest tugs at your heart, making it skip against your ribs, events of today flashing across your thoughts. 

He came so close to…

And you…

Boots on the ladder draw you out of memories. 

Din steps off quietly, obviously taking the silence in the hold as proof that the kid is asleep. He moves toward you with that familiar confident grace, beskar glinting in the dim lighting, stopping when he’s close enough to rest a gloved hand on the small of your back. 

You lean into the touch, but it’s not enough, that tight feeling constricting your lungs and your body instinctively turns to slip your hands around his waist and pull yourself into his embrace, tuck your nose into the curve of his neck just as you’ve done countless times before. His hands glide over the span of your back, one pressing you to him and the other cupping the back of your neck.

Your muscles release, and you sink into the moment. The tight feeling strains, pulls, snaps and every emotion trapped within floods your system. 

Not like before, not in desperation, or anger, or fear. None of those emotions are present, here, safe and surrounded by everything you call home, held by one you love and who loves you. 

It’s a simple acknowledgement of the events of today, and those primal instincts, that drive to protect and survive that razed your veins with adrenaline and left you feeling unmoored. 

A recognition that experiencing those emotions is part of the life you live. A life you choose to live, because even if you are left drifting, uncertain, you will always come back.

Din will always guide you back home. 

He bears your weight easily as you lean into him, tears sliding down your cheeks, dampening the cloth of his cowl. 

It’s quiet, just the hum of the ship’s engines vibrating along the edge of silence. For a long moment, there’s only you and him, only the barely-there pulse of your heartbeats pressed close together, seeking each other through layers of cloth and beskar. 

The torrent of emotion slows eventually, lessens to a trickle that allows you to direct strength back to your limbs, pull back from Din to stand on your own two feet again. 

His hand on your neck slides around to cup your jaw, tilt your face as his hidden gaze takes you in. “You’re ok, kar’ta.”

There’s an insistence in his words, a strain in his modulated voice that brings fresh tears to your eyes. 

You nod once, smile weak but reassuring. “I’m ok.”

A sharp exhale crackles through the modulator then he’s moving, hands leaving you to grasp his helmet and pull it off and you get a glimpse of those eyes you’ve been wishing to see again all day before he’s kissing you. 

It’s soft and firm and frantic and steady all at the same time, his lips pressing so gently to yours while his hands grasp desperately at your waist, as if he’s afraid of hurting you and losing you at the same time. 

You press yourself full-length against his frame, shiver as the cool of his breastplate seeps through your shirt, and sift your fingers through his hair, cup the back of his head and return his kiss with resolution, conveying your silent reassurance. 

I’m ok.

The bone-deep tension he’d been holding releases in a tremor that runs through his body into yours and back again, reverberating, growing until both of you are trembling with the need to be as close to one another as possible. 

Everything blurs, the lines between you and him disappear, his actions become your own, and you can’t tell who’s hand reaches behind you to key shut the bunk door, who’s feet guide the other’s down the length of the hold, who’s voice murmurs pleading sounds against who’s skin.

It’s more than just physical want. It’s something else entirely, an intuition, pulling you together. Weaving through the air, your touch, your shared breath, your heartbeats, frantic for more. 

Pressing deeper, through emotion and thought and consciousness into the very core of your being.

It’s a single beat of a moment in time, only a few minutes at most, but it feels like eternity. 

In flashes, pieces of your individual physicality come back - the cold durasteel at your back as he presses you to the wall of the hold, the scrape of his teeth over your bottom lip while he kisses you deep, then the shift of your weight when you push back, turn and twist until you’re both moving again, heading for a destination only vaguely marked in your mind, somewhere soft and safe that you can fall into with him. 

You suddenly stumble, waver as your knee bumps into something - the edge of the bed.

A pause, then, a slowing of breaths and heartbeats, a calming of the frenetic energy. 

Din’s grip on your waist holds you steady as you rebalance, come back into yourself, look down at the dim shape of the bed in the dark of the hold. 

Was it only this morning you were slipping into wakefulness in this bed for the first time, awareness slowly pulling in sensations of warmth and safety and comfort, of Din?

When you’d sat on this bed, met his gaze and spoke words that bound you together in a way that transcends intimacy and connection?

A blink and you’re suddenly back there, in that moment, full of everything you’ve ever wanted but could never find hope for. 

You turn back to him, cup his face in your hands, trace the curve of his jaw with a thumb, push the memory of the words past your raw throat. “Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar’tome.”

His fingers flex, smooth over your hips, his voice rasping with the echo of your own emotion. “Mhi solus darasuum.”

A faded moment from the past flickers across your thoughts. In this very place, when you had realized happiness wasn’t a distant concept, it was something you could have, if you let yourself have it. 

“How do you say ‘forever?’”

Pressing a kiss to his mouth, you stay close, let him feel your soft words. “We are one, forever.”

He returns the kiss with a small sigh. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You let the smile curve your lips, let joy swell behind your ribs, every emotion close to the surface, ready to burst out at the smallest opportunity. 

“Can I… can I turn on the lights?” 

The words are hesitant, you immediately jump to reassure him. “Din, I will never ask you to, but I will always welcome the chance to see you.”

This time his kiss is firmer, a growing passion behind it that makes your head spin. Then he’s pulling back, pressing a command into his vambrace and the lights of the hold blink on and -

Pfassk. 

You’re reaching for him, fingers tracing his features. He closes his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, blinking them back open to meet your gaze and your heart stutters with a jolt of something so pure it must be joy. 

The words fall from you with a shake of a giggle. “You’re so kriffing pretty.”

A blush dusts his cheekbones, crease forming between his brows as the corner of his mouth pulls up in bemusement. “And that’s funny?”

“Kinda.” You let the giggle loose, smoothing back an errant curl from his forehead. “People think you’re some serious, scary Mandalorian but you’ve got those eyes and -“ your thumb dips to trace his bottom lip - “these lips that practically beg to be kissed and -“

He silences you with those lips on your own, the vibration of his own embarrassed laughter shifting his chest under your palms as you hook your fingers over the edge of his breastplate to pull him close again. 

A low sound rumbles in his throat, and he grasps your hands, guides them to the straps of the breastplate. Your breath hitches as he helps you unlock the clasps, a moan following quickly when his tongue coaxes your lips apart and slips inside. 

He repeats the motion with his pauldrons, moving your fingers with his, but you’re distracted, hands twitching, practically useless as his mouth takes yours, nipping and lapping and pulling. That frantic energy swirls through your core, pushing arousal to the forefront. 

The whimper that slips from you when he pulls back makes him still, look at you, gaze deep and all-consuming. Taking you in, from your clenching hands to the fast rise and fall of your chest, your swollen lips and eyes probably already hazy with want. 

An answering want flares in his own gaze. 

Then it’s a flurry of movement and he’s alternating between layering kisses on your mouth and the curve of your neck and removing his gear and armour. You try to help, fingers fumbling with the clasps and straps, focus wavering with each kiss that curls your toes in your boots until he’s slipping his flightsuit off his shoulders and letting it fall to the floor and tugging his underlayer shirt over his head and -

Crikking hells. 

Golden skin fills your vision, firm planes of muscle and the slight swell of his stomach and you can’t breathe, your entire body is frozen, thoughts trying to piece together the significance of this moment, of seeing this part of him you’ve never seen before, but all you can think is -

“Mesh’la.” You murmur the word as your hands glide over his chest, marvelling at the combined sensations of his skin under your palms and the sight of his muscles twitching beneath your fingertips. 

Need sears hot through your core. 

A rough whimper buzzes under your hands and he suddenly yanks you close, kissing you hard enough to make your knees bend with the force. 

Another shift and he’s pushing you back, down, a hand moving behind you to brace your weight as you fall onto the bed, his lips following yours. 

Your thighs part automatically, boot catching on the edge of the bed, and you groan in frustration, all of a sudden aware of every layer of clothing you’re still wearing, unnecessary barriers between your skin and his. 

He pulls back, and a thrill of arousal curls into the growing heat of your desire at the fierce intent in his expression. His movements are quick and precise, pulling your boots off and tossing them aside, slipping his fingers under the hem of your leggings and underwear and tugging them down your legs and away. 

Then he’s kneeling, not on the bed but on the floor, and his large hands grip your thighs, haul you to the edge of the mattress and push them apart. 

Oh kriff -

Anticipation shivers down your spine, cool air swirls over your pussy, arousal arcs up in reaction -

His eyes are so dark, a brown that’s almost black, drawing you into their depths and you can’t look away, pinned in place by that gaze as he lowers his mouth, as his plush lips part, as his tongue slips out to swipe over your clit. 

Crikking hells -

The moan that pushes from your chest sparks a flash of something in his eyes and he laps up the length of your cunt, tongue dipping inside to flick over your fluttering entrance, lap up your arousal already gathering there. 

Your fingers fist into the blankets at your sides, a breath-taking wave of pleasure rolling through you. “Din -“

He groans in response, presses a wet kiss to your clit before swirling the tip of his tongue around it, then pulling it between his lips, the brown of his irises darkening impossibly more and you can’t, it’s so much, feeling the swipe of his tongue over your clit and the gentle suck of his lips and seeing those eyes, deep and devouring, watching you lose yourself. 

You whimper, a wordless cry, your head falling back and eyes squeezing shut against the swarm of overwhelming pleasure radiating from your cunt, you hands tugging uselessly at the blankets as if they could keep you grounded and suddenly he’s shifting, his fingers twining through yours, gripping tight as his tongue slides down through your folds in a long, slow glide that sends a rush of slick from your core and sparks of blinding pleasure up your spine. 

Again, he laps thickly at your entrance before pulling your clit in between his lips and pressing -

Your back arches sharply, words stuttering gasps. “Yes oh pfassk so good feels so good -“

He hums low and the vibration resonates through your core, pushing your pleasure higher. His lips press, rolling your clit between them with a barely-there suck and -

Your entire body shudders, fingernails digging into the backs of his hands. 

Again and again, the press and pull -

Pleasure burns bright, building higher -

One of his hands leaves yours and a fingertip slides through your folds, presses to your entrance, and your hips instinctively rock forward, pushing it in with the motion -

He groans long and low as your cunt clenches around his finger, draws it in deep, and his tongue circles hot and firm over your clit and yes -

Lights flicker along the edge of your vision and your free hand dives into his hair as he slides another finger into your pussy. 

He starts a rhythm, a barely-thrust with a crook of his fingertips along your inner walls and a squeeze-pull of his lips on your clit and you cry out, nails digging into his scalp, pleasure building up and up, higher -

Your voice cracks, pleads. “Din I’m gonna -“

His growl rumbles through your core, shoves your pleasure to the edge and a pulse of his fingers on that spot inside you is enough -

Bright wet heat -

Your body shudders through the wave, cunt squeezing his fingers tight, clit throbbing under the wet pressure of his lips and tongue as you come. 

The drop punches the breath from your lungs, curves your back into your body with the force of it. 

He withdraws his fingers and grips your thigh, smearing slick along your skin as he drags his tongue over your entrance, moans into your still-fluttering cunt. 

You prop yourself up on an elbow, some urge driving you to look -

Crikking hells. 

Another small wave of pleasure courses through your limbs, trembles in your thighs, and he opens his eyes, gaze meeting yours as his glistening tongue laps up your slick, brows creased in utter indulgence. 

You’re falling, sinking into those dark brown depths and you need -

A sound full of raw desperation squeezes from your suddenly tight chest and he reacts immediately, rising up to press you back down into the mattress with a deep kiss that steals the end of your cry, fills your mouth with the taste of your own pleasure. It’s grounding, the weight of his chest on yours, but you need more -

Hooking your legs around his thighs you twist, push, and he rolls onto his back, hands curling around your waist to pull you with him. 

A warm throb of fresh arousal pulses in your core as you settle, straddling his hips, his cloth-covered cock pressing tight to your cunt. 

He grunts and rocks up, grinding his arousal along your wet heat. You bite your lip against the urge to close your eyes, sink into the delicious friction, keeping your gaze steady on his as your hands smooth down his chest. 

Broad expanse of glowing skin, accentuating undeniable strength, unmarred by the few scars that are evidence of his ability to withstand, to succeed. 

To survive and live. 

The skin of your back prickles with an awareness that sinks deep into your thoughts, pulling something you’ve been trying to understand for a long time to the surface. 

Your scars, those thick lines scattered across your back - they don’t mean what they used to. 

Now, they’re just another part of you that you want to share with him, the last of your secrets. 

You want him to see you. All of you. 

There’s no hesitance, only absolute certainty. 

You grasp the hem of your shirt, pull it up and over your head, toss it away. 

The hands on your thighs grip hard as he stills beneath you. Those beautiful brown eyes are fixed on yours, wide with something like awe. 

Your hands slip behind your back and unclasp your bra, and the cool air swirls over your bare skin, pulls your nipples tighter. 

He swallows hard, the rise and fall of his chest noticeable - he’s seen you like this before, but not quite, not without the security of your shirt covering your scars, and his voice holds his awareness of how important this moment is. “Tionas…”

You take his hands, bring them to your chest, press those long fingers over the swell of your breasts. “It’s ok.” A flash of memory, Mando’a words rise to the surface of your thoughts. “Gar haa’taylir ni, Din.”

His gaze softens, then he’s sitting up, one hand sliding around your back while the other cups your breast and his lips capture yours in a firm kiss. 

The glide of his warm hand over your naked back sends a shiver down your spine. Your hips roll with it, your cunt grinding over his cloth-covered cock and he groans into your mouth, thumb brushing over your nipple before pinching it between his fingers. 

Oh pfassk -

He shifts, lips leaving yours to trail along your collarbone, tongue flicking out over the curve of your breast. 

Your instinct is to let your head fall back, close your eyes, lose yourself in feeling but you can’t, your gaze fixed on the way his plush lips close around your nipple, how his large hand cups your other breast with restrained want, so obviously cautious not to squeeze too hard, how the curve of his jaw shifts as his tongue works over your breast. 

He nips lightly with his teeth and pleasure shivers through your body. 

Yes -

Your fingers dive into his hair, nails dig into his scalp and he grunts, nips again and the lightening-hot sensation arcs down your spine, hips rolling with its force, amplifying it as the head of his cock catches on your clit and sends tiny sparks across your hips. 

He laves at your nipple, hand on your back pushing to press it further into his mouth as he sucks gently, and it’s so good and your entire body shudders at the sudden weight of your need, cunt clenching around aching emptiness. 

Your fingers tug on his curls, unsure if you’re trying to bring him closer or pull him away so you can kiss that perfect mouth of his. 

Another roll of your hips, his cock twitches against your folds and he pulls off your breast, presses his forehead to your chest as a rush of your hot slick soaks his underlayer. “Fuck, I need to be inside you -“

You rock your hips into his again, panting at the drag of wet fabric over your sensitive clit. “Yes, please -“

His answering moan crackles along your damp skin and he pulls back, looks up at you and kriff he’s so beautiful, expression pulled tight with want and pupils blown wide, lips swollen with his efforts to pull pleasure from your body. 

Pfassk. You want him so bad it hurts.

And you want to give him all of you. 

His brows pull together in confusion as you shift off his lap, out of his embrace, until you cup his face in your hands. Pressing a soft kiss to his lips, you meet that dark, deep gaze. “I want you to make me feel you everywhere.”

Understanding blooms in his eyes as you slide up the bed, holding his gaze until you turn away, lay down, settle on your stomach into the well-worn blankets, curving your arms to pillow your head. 

Air ghosts over the heated skin of your naked back. 

He’s silent behind you, but his hands immediately settle on your hips, warm and reassuring. You can feel his gaze, tracing the scars cutting up the skin of your back, but no fear grips your heart, no shame curls in your stomach. 

It’s ok. You’re safe with him. 

A movement, he kneels between your thighs and you spread your legs further to accommodate him. 

His hands slowly shift, sliding up your sides, coming together over your shoulderblades. 

You close your eyes, arch into his touch. 

A soft kiss, the barely-there press of lips to the small of your back pulls a whimper from your throat. 

Another, and another, tracing your spine, up between his hands, blessing your scars with love and acceptance so profound it wraps around every memory you have of receiving them, of hiding them, and blurs the edges until the memories no longer hurt. 

He pauses at the nape of your neck, resting there, breath warm as it drifts down your back. 

No words break the silence, but they don’t have to. 

There are no words to suitable for this moment, anyway. 

His hands sweep down your back, and the bed shifts with his weight. 

You look over your shoulder to see him standing, hook his thumbs into the waistband of his underlayer pants and pull them down. 

A surge of want curls your toes, clenches your inner walls. 

Long legs, toned thighs -

Pfassk -

His cock, golden skin flushed at the tip, glinting with the wet proof of his arousal -

Your mouth waters, your clit throbs -

You’ve felt it, heavy in your palm, warm and smooth on your tongue, thick and full in your cunt but now you know -

Even his cock is pretty. 

He moves, kneeling back between your thighs and your gaze is caught by his again, that look of concentrated focus back on his features, and a rush of heat floods your core. 

You rise up on your elbows, reach back a hand to guide his mouth to yours, push every emotion - gratitude, awe, love, trust - into your kiss. 

He returns it, moan filling your mouth as you part your lips, glide your tongue along his. 

His chest presses to your back - pleasure goosebumps over your skin, feeling his bare warmth on yours - and you gasp, breaking the kiss to pull back and just look at him, wonder at the intimacy of this moment overwhelming your focus. 

The soft depth in his eyes tells you he feels it, too. 

A gentle kiss between your brows and then he braces himself on one hand, the other sliding down between your thighs to -

Kriff -

Your moan shifts to a whimper at the end, the head of his cock dipping through your slick folds feels so good and you need -

Arching your hips, you curl your fingers around his wrist, tugging lightly. “Please, Din, need you.”

A shift and -

Your mingled sounds of pleasure catch in the small space between you as his cock notches into your entrance, pushes inside -

Yes yes more -

The stretch bows your back and pulls  him deeper -

He sinks home with a low groan, free hand pressing over your collarbone, head falling to the crook of your neck. “So wet and warm, feels so good, fuck -“

Your inner walls flutter, cunt begging for friction, and he draws back, slow and steady, sending curls of pleasure through your core. “Yes like that -“

Thrust deep -

The head of his cock grinds over something that shoves a cry from your throat, ripples pleasure through your core. 

He does it again -

Again and again -

Your orgasm blossoms bright out of nowhere -

Oh pfassk -

You grip his wrist hard, head dropping to the blankets as pleasure blasts through your limbs. “Din I’m -“

Words choke off with the next thrust and you’re suddenly right there, at the edge, and it’s big and -

His hand slides to your shoulder, holds you in place as he thrusts quick one two three -

Bright wet heat -

Pleasure whites out your vision and squeezes the breath from your lungs and your cunt so tight around the thick of his cock -

Your arms give out under the weight of it but he holds you there, grip firm on your shoulder as he fucks you through it -

He buries deep, hips pressed tight to your ass, stilling, and finally the wave crashes over you, rolls through your body, tenses every muscle until it breaks. 

A last pulse of pleasure and you’re trembling, something like a sob muffled in the blankets against your lips as he eases you down. 

Your senses are scrambled, scattered, blurred with the aftershocks that keep quivering through you. 

Gradually they pull back together, focused on the singular point of his lips, soft and pressing gentle kisses along the span of your shoulders. 

You reach up, curl your fingers through his hair, turn your face to find those lips with your own. 

He kisses you so softly, and love pulses through the warm bright thing in your chest. 

His cock twitches against your sensitive inner walls, still hard and thick, deep in your cunt. 

The primal need to feel him, feel everything crawls through your senses and takes hold. 

Your teeth graze his plump bottom lip. “Need you, love. Fill me up with you. Gedet’ye.”

He hisses as you clench around him, hand shifting to press over your heartbeat, pull your weight back against him as he thrusts again, a sharp snap of his hips that ripples pleasure through your body. 

Crikking hells -

He picks up a rapid pace, one that jolts hot sharp pleasure into your core with each slap of his hips against your ass, each shove of his cock deep into your cunt. 

Pleasure builds up and up, more and more -

Yes yes yes -

Another thrust another again -

He pulls back just a bit, his free hand cups your face and you look up at him, your gaze meets his and -

Time stands still, thoughts flickering randomly through the pleasure haze. 

Deep brown, warm and full of something profound -

More than simple love -

Is love simple?

His thumb brushes over the curve of your cheek, through the moisture there -

Are you crying?

Yes, love is simple compared to this, this fullness, this sense of belonging. 

This sense of home. 

The peripheral of your vision catches the glow of his bare chest, shoulders, the soft fall of his hair, the play of muscles in his arms as he flexes his hips against yours again. 

Your world is filled with him. 

Senses fragment, each pulsing through your veins and pushing your pleasure higher. 

The warmth of him, bare skin pressed along your naked back -

Slick slide of his cock pushing apart your inner walls, slotting into the place imprinted with the shape of him -

Wet sounds of the suck of your cunt trying to pull him deeper -

Ache of your thighs as they flex, arch your body into his, silently begging for more, more -

It rips through you suddenly -

Your pleasure, bright hot -

He growls, brow creasing and eyelids fluttering and he thrusts hard again and again and -

Hot slick wet -

Your core floods with warmth, his and yours, pleasure combined -

So good -

Perfection -

Both of you pulled together, entwined. 

No more barriers, no more secrets. 

Souls laid bare and embraced with compassion, understanding. 

This moment anchors in place, frozen, and you know that even when time starts again, a part of you and a part of him will be here, always. 

The release crashes on you both, a drop that shudders through you and has you falling into the blankets, his body splayed over yours, warm weight pressing you into the mattress and surrounding your senses with him. 

A breath. A beat. 

Time moves slowly, lazily pulling you along. 

Pulses steady, pleasure-haze clears, contentment settles in. 

Din sighs gently, his chest shifting against your back and he kisses the curve of your shoulder. “Kar’ta isn’t enough. You’re more than my heart, ner runi.”

There’s a reverence in his voice that threatens to close your throat without you even knowing the meaning of his words. 

You turn enough to look at him, cup his face, trace the laugh lines around his eyes with a fingertip. “What does it mean?”

His eyes meet yours, warm and steady. “‘Ner’ is ‘my.’ And ‘runi’ is an old word, not used often anymore. But it’s the only one I know that comes close to what you are to me.” 

He leans down, kisses your lips, lingers there. “‘Runi.’ It means ‘soul.’”

The warm bright thing in your chest swells, presses against the inside of your ribs until it hurts. 

Tears sting the corners of your eyes as you push out words that have been quietly swirling at the back of your mind for a long time now. “How do you say ‘stars’ in Mando’a?”

A pause, his gaze flickering over your features. “Ka’ra.”

You kiss one of those bare patches along his jaw. “Do you remember -“ a hitch in your voice, those tears clenching your throat - “when we sat in that clearing, and I told you how much the night means to me? How I looked at the stars since I was a child?”

His gaze soften. “Of course, tionas.”

Your smile is automatic, an intrinsic response to the term of endearment. “Din, you’re what I looked for. In the night sky.”

A tremor runs through him, understanding widening those beautiful eyes. 

You stroke along the curve of his jaw, watching the path of your fingers. “In those dark places where there was light that my eyes couldn’t quite see. You were there. The home I was searching for. The stars I was meant for.”

Emotion shimmers over his gaze and you blink back your own, push the last words out. “You’re my stars, Din. Ner ka’ra.”

He kisses you, soft at first and then firm, with a familiarity that makes the warm bright thing in your chest expand, grow, encompassing your body and reaching for his. 

It’s a moment full of eternity. 

He pulls back, rests his forehead against yours and everything is in his dark gaze. “I was there, ner runi. And now I’m here, where I will always be. With you. Darasuum.”

“Mhi solus darasuum.” You echo back his words, full of an everything of your own. 

He smiles - blinding bright light - and then his lips are on yours. 

It’s perfect. It’s everything. 

His arms come around you, ease you onto your side, and you settle into the bed, back against his broad chest. 

You reach for his hand, thread your fingers through his and tuck it over your heart. “I like Mando’a, it’s a beautiful language. Will you teach me more?”

A pleased hum against your back. “What would you like to learn?”

The thrill of anticipation, playfulness, pulls a laugh from your chest. “I’m sure you can guess.”

He sighs, but there’s no weight to it, sound full of the same lightness you feel. “Shabla. Probably the crudest curse word. Don’t use it around other Mandalorians, it can be taken as an insult.”

“Noted. Can’t promise I won’t though, if we see Cranky Pants again.”

This time his sigh is exasperated, but still rooted in that effervescent joy running through your own veins. “Mir’sheb.”

*****

It’s late. There’s a heavy sort of silence laying thick in the air, the kind that can only be found in the depths of night, when every living thing around is at its quietest - limbs and muscles relaxed, heartbeats and lungs moving slow and steady. 

You open your eyes, blink against the pitch-dark of the hold. Something pulled you from sleep, but it wasn’t a sound, or a movement - it was something internal, an urge, a need. 

For what?

Din is sleeping beside you, arm heavy and warm across your waist, cheek resting on your shoulder, breath ghosting over your collarbone. All it takes is a subtle motion and your nose is buried in his sleep-mussed curls, lips pressed to the top of his head, breathing in the scent of him. 

You close your eyes, your thumb lightly stroking circles where your hand rests on the arm over your waist, silently ask the part of you that brought you into wakefulness. 

This?

Did you need to feel him, reassure yourself that he’s here with you? Thoughts flick back through the night, smile curving your lips as memories of beautiful brown eyes and golden skin and words laced with emotion float through your mind. 

Still, that strange compulsion doesn’t cease, swirling and incessant, making your legs twitch with the urge to move. 

Din shifts, breath stuttering, his arm tightening to pull you closer as if sensing your sudden desire to get up.  

Your heart flutters with the gesture, at his obvious inherent need to keep you close. But you can’t resist the call any longer.

Gently, you ease yourself out of his embrace, murmuring soft reassurances when he half-wakes, slip out of bed and dig for your shirt and underwear in the piles of clothing scattered over the floor. 

He sighs heavily, and the blankets rustle as he settles back in. 

You bite your lip, hold back the giggle that threatens to slip free. 

The fact his bounty hunter instincts didn’t instantly shift him from sleep to full awareness is a testament to how the events of yesterday - and your activities tonight - exhausted him. 

It’s sweet, endearing. 

And too kriffing cute. 

The durasteel is cold on your bare feet, your shirt barely keeping out the chill of the air, goosebumps prickling over your skin as you make your way down the length of the hold, letting your instinct take you where it will. 

You can’t really see much but memory moves you past obstacles, sidestepping storage crates and skirting around the corner until you find yourself coming to a stop in front of the kid’s bunk, keying open the door and turning on the light inside the small space. 

The flood of dim light barely illuminates the hold but you can clearly see big, amber eyes blinking at you, large pointed ears lifting with excitement. 

You smile, reach into the hammock and scoop him into your arms, pitching your voice low so as not to disturb the heavy quiet surrounding you. “Hey, kiddo. What are you doing up?”

The kid coos softly, tiny clawed hand curling into the cloth of your shirt, eyes bright and clear of any sleep fog. 

“Figured you’d be exhausted like your dad.” You huff a laugh. “Figured I’d be exhausted, too, actually. But here we are, huh?”

He babbles in the way you know means he’s happy, and it’s infectious, pulling another laugh from you. 

A barely-there sound behind you, the step of someone who can move with complete silence but doesn’t want to startle you. 

The kid squirms in your arms, lifting himself to look over your shoulder. You follow his gaze, pulse fluttering when the dim light glances off the familiar helmet, outlines the tall, broad frame dressed in black underlayer. 

Din slides a hand across your back, soothing, and tweaks the tip of the kid’s ear. “Everything ok?”

The sleep-rasp of his voice through the modulator sends a shiver down your spine, and his fingers trace it with obvious affection, palm settling in the small of your back. 

You look down at the kid, smile when those bright eyes turn back to you, wide and full of the same emotion pulsing through the warm bright thing in your chest. 

Leaning back against the steady warmth of him, you take a deep breath, let it out, and sink into the sense of home that surrounds you. “Yeah. Everything is perfect.”

*****

Mando’a translations

Tionas - question

Cyar’ika - sweetheart

Kar’ta - heart

Mesh’la - beautiful

*****

I’M NOT CRYING YOU’RE CRYING

Jk I’m definitely crying 😭

I want to take this opportunity to say thank you to everyone who reads this fic. The fact that you’re willing to give these characters some of your precious time is incredibly humbling as a writer.

Those of you who interacted with this fic with likes and empty reblogs - I want you to know that I saw every single one, got worried when you didn’t like or reblog it in the timeframe you usually did because I thought either I had completely bungled the chapter or something bad had happened to you. Please know you were seen and appreciated. 

Those of you who comment, dm and generally scream into the void with me about this fic - there are no words to describe how much you mean to me. Your comments are direct fuel for my motivation and I reread them when I’m at my lowest. 

I have more to say to those who supported this fic from the beginning through to its completion, but I’m saving that for another post, so for now just know that you have given me the strength to reach this point, where I’m writing a thank you at the end of the first novel I’ve ever completed after several failed attempts to do so throughout my life. Your contribution in the form of your unwavering support makes this as much your achievement as it is mine. I couldn’t have done it without you. Thank you ❤️

- Davnitt

[fantasticwombatpoetry]

Happy Sunday 😊 to yall 😘 Reblog my pictures and like and Reblog

[sapphic-agent]

Meanwhile:

We big chillin

[shannonsketches]

I grabbed a bunch of caps for that last post so here's a few more in my favorite genre of bejíta

[itseasierthanithought]

Safety in his arms

Maturity in his words

Purity in hus soul

Love in his actions

[natureselements]

Today’s good mood is sponsored by heavy metal 🤘

[shamebats]

"What a gift it is to talk with someone who's interested in your inner experience! Instead of feeling strange for having certain feelings, you feel understood because the other person resonates with what you're talking about on an emotional level. When emotionally mature people find you interesting, they show curiosity about you. They enjoy hearing your history and getting to know you.

[...] "They like your individuality and are intrigued by the ways in which you're different from them. This reflects their desire to really get to know you, rather than looking for you to mirror them."

[…] "In the climate of such interest and acceptance, you'll feel that you can be completely yourself and may find yourself telling the other person things you hadn't planned to or sharing a personal experience that you usually keep to yourself. You'll also notice that the more you share with such people, the more they share with you. That's how true intimacy develops and flourishes.

Once they trust you, they'll engage in clear, intimate communication and let you into their inner world. If you've been emotionally neglected in the past, this may be a new and exhilarating experience for you. You'll also discover that when you feel distressed, emotionally mature people don't pull back. They aren't afraid of your emotions and don't tell you that you should be feeling some other way. They embrace your feelings and like learning about the things you want to tell them.

And you will want to tell them things. It's wonderful and validating to find someone who really listens."

— from Adult Children of Emotionally Immature Parents by Lindsay C. Gibson.

[solarasole]

Wearing my favorite heels to walk all over you

[dirtytransmasc]

scenario based on my atla/Avatar Spider au:

The first time Spider enters the Avatar state is when the humans return to Pandora, their flaming ships bringing inferno like wildfires to Eywa's forests act like a comet, and the boy loses control, and the only way to protect him from himself was for Eywa to induce the Avatar state so his body could withstand the way his own flames reacted. He ends up in the center of some of the worst of the flames, engulfed, but shielded by a sphere of his own flames, stone, and air, as he draws water up from the soil to soften the wildfire's rage.

When the infernos die down days later, he rises from the ashes barely scathed, ready to make himself known as the Avatar, despite his fear and the hostility he knows he'll face as an "abomination to Eywa's blessings". But he doesn't care. He's too angry, his eyes and stripes still glowing, the rage of thousands of centuries of warriors and healers and mothers and fathers and devotees coursing through him.

But he is young. He has had no teachers. So his anger only takes him so far, and very few trust him enough to allow him to truly partake in the battles and planning, not within the Omatikaya anyway, seeing him as some cruel hoax formulated by the humans.

The second time he enters the Avatar state is the night the recoms lay their filthy hands on his baby siblings. He rages. Beyond rages. His power comes in the form of animalistic rage. His eyes and stripes white out. One second his siblings are held in bounds, the next they're free and he's yelling at them in a voice they don't quite recognize to run. Then he is gone, his anger quickly spent, leading to his capture, but not without fight. The recoms never expected to deal with a fire bender like themselves, let alone the Avatar.

The casualties left behind that night were his doing.

The third time he reaches the Avatar state is the night Neteyam dies. The boy was a healer, but not with water. He had no teachers to show him the way of using it to heal. He had no herbs or plants at his side that he recognized as Neteyam bled out before him. He screamed to Eywa for help, for the strength and skill to heal his brother. He pleaded for her to force him into the Avatar state so he could keep his brother from slipping away. But she couldn't save him, not this time. She wanted to, but she could not allow him to upset the balance.

Neteyam dies as Spider weakly, despite all of his might, holds an orb of faintly glowing water over the hole in his chest, as his eyes track over the burns left by over eager fire benders with no true skill. He dies as Spider screams and begs. The one time he needed his blessing, his curse, his punishment, his reward- Whatever anyone wished to call it -to do Hun why good, it could not save his problem.

Instead it comes the moment it is too late to do anything, enough rage and grief and hurt pooling in his chest as Neteyam's eyes glaze over and Neytiri begins to scream and his Father's voice begins to mock. That is when he rises to the ground in a cast of white light. He ravages the ship. He isn't alone, but he claims his casualties.

It takes a very long time before he ever allows himself to enter the Avatar state again, and he learns to never depend on it. For anything. And while his faith in Eywa is not lost, it is jaded, because she blessed him with a curse, whether she meant to or not, and couldn't even answer his one prayer.

[thebeautyofanoracle]

[maream2636]

2024.5.9

I can't say it's a good day. I gave my cats to my dad's friend and I'm in a bad mood now. I need some time to get over it. I also realized that I'm spending a lot of money for food while there are cheaper alternatives. Out of my sadness, I started writing a short story for children about the adventures of a cat named honey. I will post it on Amazon. But what made my mood better was a Korean series called Monthly Home Magazine. It's funny. The kind of stuff we consume really affects our psychology.

•writing (done)

•Sports exercises (Not done)

•save money(done)

•prayers (not done)

•reading(done)

🎧~Ways by Roman Lewis

[femmefatalevibe]

Do you have tips on how to be emotionally mature?

Remember that everyone is ultimately out for themselves. They don't think about you and your choices as much as you think they do. Make taking care of yourself and advocating for yourself your #1 priority. While you should be respectful and show empathy for others' circumstances, your life is meant to be lived for you.

Don't take people's comments or actions personally. Almost none of their responses are a reflection of you or your character. Most people's actions are a reflection of how they see themselves. When people reveal their true colors, believe them. Proceed with this information in mind – whether it's a friendship, professional opportunity, romantic endeavor, familial tie, etc.

Set boundaries and non-negotiables for yourself. Don't overextend yourself to seek approval or validation as a means of dictating your self-worth or value to others. Learn to trust your gut instincts, and remain mindful of your energetic limitations. "No" is a complete sentence. It is not selfish to stick to your non-negotiable habits (bedtime, workout schedule, etc.) – these practices are a sign of self-respect and self-love. Speak your mind (with tact) and stand your ground. You owe it to yourself to live the life that you want.

Know that the only constant in life is change. People and opportunities will come and go with age. Enjoy the moments and experiences you get to enjoy with others or alone. Relationships are meant to last for a season, a reason, or a lifetime. Not every impactful connection is meant to last a lifetime, but you shouldn't invalidate the lasting impact of certain temporary connections – they most definitely can change your life.

Remain selective about those you allow into your life and the company you keep. Embrace the quality over quantity approach when it comes to choosing the individuals who deserve to be in your inner circle. Don't disclose information you wouldn't want in writing to those who have yet to earn your trust. Cut ties unapologetically with people who choose to tear you down or disrespect you. You win in life when everyone you're close to is supportive and committed to cheering each other on in all of their life goals/milestones.

Learn to accept and explore discomfort. Growth requires change, and a side effect of change is discomfort. Accept that the circumstances are presenting you with an opportunity in life to level up. Breathe and take things one step at a time. Sometimes, you don't need to know the big-picture meaning of the conversation or task in front of you. Focus on what's in front of you – using good judgment and critical thinking skills – and figure the rest out later.

Set your future self up to win. Eat a healthy diet, move your body, save and invest, read books, build your professional and social networks, and upskill professionally and interpersonally, go to the doctors annually (all the major ones – primary care, dentist, gyno, dermatologist) or whenever an issue presents itself to nip it in the bud early.

Remain curious. Don't act on baseless assumptions. Ask someone about the intention or emotions behind their actions before creating a conflict or making accusations. Accept wishful thinking for what it is – especially when it comes to romance and professional endeavors. A job offer doesn't exist until it's signed and sealed in writing. Relationships come with exclusivity, clear and regular communication, and no issues with public knowledge or a title.

Reframe mistakes and failures as life lessons. These opportunities inspire self-reflection, performance evaluation, and introspection. Use these experiences to help you map out your next moves and strategize your actions toward success.

Creating life milestone timelines is useless. We all have our own history, circumstances, goals, and personalities. Individuals born in each given year are not a hivemind. Don't compare your journey to others. We are all on our own paths with different significant milestones at different points in our lives.

Embrace your desires. Indulge your adult self and inner child. Explore the pleasure of getting to know yourself – your likes, dislikes, values, preferences, and turn-ons/turnoffs in every area of life. Allow yourself the time, space, energy, and resources you need to satisfy your authentic self. Don't compromise your identity for the approval or praise of others. Learn what you want and be unapologetic for satisfying your own needs. Discover, experiment, play, test, learn, and re-evaluate as needed. Gamifying your life helps free you of societal expectations of what it means to be a certain age, gender, or personality based on your nationality, profession, sexuality, socioeconomic status, etc.

[stardustrevvolutionn]

Let's talk about emotional stability

In order to ground and use coping skills, the most beneficial tool accessible is the concept of emotional safety & security.

What emotional safety and security looks like:

am I safe enough in this moment?

Is there something safe I can look at?

Is there something safe I can listen to?

Is there something safe I can feel?

Is there something safe I can think about?

Have I done this before?

Can I do it again?

What are the steps?

What do I do if I can't do it?

How do I comfort myself through this moment?

How do I feel about myself during these moments?

How do I feel about my successes?

How do I feel about my failures?

What are my self fulfilling prophecies?

How aware am I of my past interfering with my present?

What are my triggers?

What are my disengaging strategies for when I feel triggered?

What are my coping skills?

What are my safety plans?

Is there someone safe I can talk to?

Is there something new I can try that helps me feel safe?

What does feeling safe mean to me?

What types of things make me feel safest?

What types of memories make me feel safe and warm?

Who makes me feel safest?

What can I do to make myself feel safer?

Sometimes it's not necessarily the coping skills but rather the lack of emotional safety and stability, aka the presence of chaos, in our lives that prevent us from using the coping skills. This becomes the obstacle.

In these moments it can be beneficial to reinforce the emotional safety and stability by addressing the darkness in some direct way.

"This [insert chaos here] is a trigger. I feel _____ when I am triggered. This trigger hurts me. I don't like engaging with this trigger, so I will [insert coping skills here] when I encounter this trigger."

Mantras, deep breathing, and other coping skills, something to directly call it out and bring awareness to the panic and anxiety of feeling fear and unsafe during these moments can help increase the awareness of why the coping skills are necessary and needed in these moments.

Then we sit with the discomfort of needing to change the environment, change the chaos into peace, and try something new. Sitting with this discomfort can give you a foundation to build something new with.

Hope this might help 🌟

🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟

🌟 Gold star effort 🌟

🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟

[myfatherwasapredator]