There will always be a story to be told

Yasmin | she/her | 30s | Jewish Masterlist AO3: beloved_by_the_moon

[beloved-by-the-moon]

Tease

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!Reader

Rating: 18+

Word count: 1,3k

Summary: you wake up alone again and decide to take sweet revenge.

Warnings: porn with minimal plot, teasing, masturbation, fingering (gloves stay on), one (1) pussy slap, unprotected p i v (armor and helmet stay on), creampie. Established relationship.

“Good morning!”

Unhurriedly, swaying your hips, you step into the cockpit of the Razor Crest, carrying two cups of caf. Din is already in the pilot’s seat, despite the damn early hour. You set the cups on an empty spot on the dashboard and, yawning, stretch sweetly.

“Good morning,” the man’s gaze is already fixed on you: aside from panties and a short top, you’re wearing absolutely nothing else.

“Just the way you love it,” you nod at the hot caf, then take a delighted sip of your own.

“Thanks,” Din swallows, ignoring the drink you made, “what are you doing?”

 “Drinking my caf,” you shrug innocently, causing one of the straps of your top to slide seductively down your shoulder.

“Why aren’t you dressed?”

You hear those low notes in his voice, that familiar hoarseness, and realize that your straightforward plan is working.

You woke up alone again. And yet your man wasn’t even away on one of his missions right now - it was just that stupid habit of his of waking up at the crack of dawn and, as soon as he got out of bed, getting right down to business, depriving you of the morning sex you love so much. Clearing his throat, Din turns away and tries unsuccessfully to remember what he was doing two minutes ago.

“What’s the big deal?” you have the sweetest smile on your face.

“It’s… distracting,” your Mandalorian mutters, feigning annoyance, as if he doesn’t like what he’s seeing.

“Could it be...” you reply, leaning over the sensors and screens, studying the coordinates of the course he set; your lower back arches slightly, your butt temptingly sticking out.

Finally, you feel the sweet taste of victory: a large palm in a glove touches your leg, slowly sliding up the inside of your thigh. Smiling dreamily, you half-close your eyes in pleasure. Din’s hand caresses your soft butt with an air of ownership - he knows it belongs only to him, and that realization turns you both on.

Standing on your tiptoes, you reach for the buttons and switches and engage autopilot, then lock the cockpit door, ensuring privacy for the two of you. And then gracefully hop up onto the dashboard. Your hips end up in the perfect position - right at Din’s eye level, and your bare feet press against the armrests of his seat on either side of him.

“I woke up alone again,” you pout your lips, offended, “I wanted you to be with me so badly...”

“Cyar’ika,” the man exhales guiltily, “I...”

Your pussy involuntarily tightens at that tender name - you absolutely adore it when he calls you that.

“I wanted you to kiss me,” you pull up the hem of your top, baring your breasts with boldly protruding nipples, “I wanted you to caress me...”

Pushing the thin fabric of your panties aside, you slide your fingertips along your exposed, already wet pussy.

Din’s heavy breathing, slightly muffled by his helmet, the way his fists clenched, and the impressive bulge in his pants encourage you to keep going. With gentle, weightless touches, you tease your swollen clit, not even trying to hold back your soft, quiet moans. This little show turns you on just as much as it does him - you could easily cum right now, in front of him.

The palms of your Mandalorian rest on your bare legs - and you spread your thighs wider. Gently sliding two fingers into your needy hole, you throw your head back and let out another desperate moan.

 “Dank farrik!” Din growls, losing his patience and jumping to his feet.

Almost roughly, he snatches your hand away from your dripping pussy, and you gasp,  feeling the touch of his glove’s cool, rough leather against your delicate, sensitive flesh. First, one of his thick fingers  eagerly pushes inside you, and almost immediately a second one joins it. You whine and arch your back; his other hand rests on your waist and pulls you closer.

With a few precise, confident movements, he brings you to an incredibly vivid orgasm; his glove becomes completely soaked with your juices as you cum on his fingers.

Once you stop trembling, you go limp in his arms.

“No way,” Din shakes his head, still holding you with one hand while clumsily unbuttoning his pants with the other, “you’re not getting off that easy now.”

Biting your lip, you smile and nod vigorously, letting him know you’re ready to take whatever he’s about to give you. Last night, just a few hours ago, he, literally folding you in half, fucked you senseless, and now he’s about to do it again. Will you ever get enough of each other? With all your heart, you hope that will never happen.

Din’s cock springs free, the head glistening with pre-cum, and your mouth instantly fills with saliva. You slide off your seat and drop to your knees, but the man catches you and yanks you up sharply, pulling you back to your feet.

“No,” turning you around with your back to him, he presses your chest against the dashboard where you were just sitting, then commands, “legs wider.”

You obediently follow his order.

“Good girl,” he rewards you with a light slap on your pussy. You sob.

The next second, his thick cock fills you, thrusting all the way in to the balls with a single stroke. You cry out loudly, and a gloved hand clamps over your mouth. It smells of you, of your release, and your head is spinning.

Your Mandalorian’s outward restraint, his cool composure, the image of a ruthless warrior who destroys his enemies without batting an eye - all of it melted away like smoke dissipating into the air when the two of you were alone. Din Djarin, the man with whom you shared your bed and your life, was the most tender, the most caring, the most devoted. And he fucked you so good that you were ready to forget your own name.

The other strong hand digs into your hip so hard that it’ll probably leave bruises. He pounds into you, relentlessly, mercilessly; at first you try to move too, to find the right rhythm, but soon you give in and just let him take you however he pleases, and oh, he does it so damn well...

“Din...” you whimper, feeling the approach of orgasm.

“What is it, cyar’ika?” he breathes out, leaning toward you slightly, removing his palm from your face.

“Please… I… I need to cum…”

“What should I do?” he picks up the pace slightly.

“Please… help me… please…”

“Be a good girl and don’t make a noise.”

His fingers find your clit and begin to circle around it lightly and quickly, each movement pushing you closer and closer to that sweet climax. A few more powerful thrusts - and you clench around his cock with a loud moan, defying his instructions. Din curses and follows you, filling you with his hot, thick cum.

It takes both of you a few moments to come to your senses. Din’s flesh leaves your body, and you, feeling hypersensitive, shudder. His sperm, mixed with your own juices, slowly trickles down the inside of your thigh.

“I’ll get a towel.”

“Wait,” you catch his hand, “don’t go, stay with me.”

Din hugs you with a sigh, you press your forehead against the cool metal of his helmet.

“I’m with you, always,” he assures.

“I love kissing my man after sex,” you remark, pouting slightly.

Stepping back, Din removes his helmet, and, pulling you close again, covers your lips with his.

“Just the way you love it,” he whispers into the kiss.

[beloved-by-the-moon]

I hope you're doing alright. I miss you <3

I missed you, too, love!🤍🫂 I'm doing good! Thank you for thinking of me🥹

[writingdose]

being a writer is fun

[raccoonboywrites]

“This character is dead in canon” to you. They’re dead in canon to you. To me they’re fine

[achilleius]

fav character: [kills someone]

me: aw

[titanicnerd-blog]

This is SO Garcia Flynn coded.

[futurewife]

wyatt is like a stupid american mans idea of what women think is hot. flynn is an enlightened tumblr sexyman vision: 6'4, 40+, snarky, morally grey, tortured backstory, sexy accent.

[queenincrimson]

GORAN VISNJIC as GARCIA FLYNN    ⮑ TIMELESS - 2.09

[sunriseinorbit]

This is an appreciation post for the fanfic authors who aren’t included on rec lists

For the fanfic authors who don’t get art of their fics

For the fanfic authors who can’t get to 1000/500/100 hits

For the fanfic authors who don’t get comments/reviews

For the fanfic authors who write for small fandoms

For the fanfic authors who write rarepairs or gen fics

For the fanfic authors who get hate for the ships/characters/fandoms they write

For the fanfic authors who write in English despite it not being their first language

For the fanfic authors who don’t write in English

For the fanfic authors who don’t think anyone reads or likes their work

For the fanfic authors who aren’t big name fans

For the fanfic authors who don’t get requests in their inboxes

For the fanfic authors who can’t write stories that are more than a thousand words

For the fanfic authors who only write one ship

For the fanfic authors who are just starting

For the fanfic authors who have been writing fic for years

For the fanfic authors who use fanfic to practice writing

For the fanfic authors who write self-insert fics

For the fanfic authors who write about their OCs

For the fanfic authors who write to vent or cope

For the fanfic authors who are just waiting for their big break

Keep creating, I love you ❤️

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

finding that one fandom friend that GETS you and your blorbos the way no one else does is a privilege and it will literally change your life

[berkeleygirl3]

[giingerwitch]

Pedro in slow motion is all I need 😍

[reedispunk]

Mine

Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: Joel loses all his self control when you accidentally wear his flannel instead of your boyfriend Tommy’s.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, soft dom!Joel, unspecified age gap, fingering, praise kink, use of pet names

a/n: I wrote this so quick but now I lwk feel bad for Tommy oops

wc: 2.4k

As the early morning sun creeps along the floorboards of the bedroom, you turn in the sheets. “Tommy?” you mumble sleepily when you find his side of the bed empty.

You stretch out, adjusting your eyes to the light as you scan the room. The house is quiet, and you remember now that he told you he had to leave early this morning. You sigh, for once you have no errands to run and no patrol to get ready for; you have yourself a free morning, but Tommy isn’t here to enjoy that with you.

Throwing the sheet off you, you feel a chill against your skin so you pad over to the dresser, taking out one of Tommy’s flannels. You wrap it around you, appreciating the warmth, the softness, and just how snuggly it feels against your skin. You don’t remember ever seeing Tommy wear this, but you recognize it, so naturally the thought leaves your mind as you exit the bedroom and head downstairs in search of breakfast.

"Mornin'," he grumbles, his back to you as he washes dishes in the sink. You pause in the doorway when you realize that you aren’t in fact home alone.

“Joel. Hi.” The hesitation is clear in your voice. Why is he here?

“Don’t mind me; we were out of anything good to eat. Tommy said I could call by here and raid the fridge.”

“Right, of course.” You fiddle awkwardly with your sleeve, unsure what to say, and even though he hasn’t turned to look at you yet, you feel a little exposed dressed in nothing but his brother’s shirt.

Joel fascinates you. He’s significantly older; he’s quiet, never says much, and he always radiates a grumpy energy that keeps you on edge whenever you are around him. But you can’t deny that when you are in the same room, especially when it’s just you and him, there’s a feeling that washes over you that fills your belly with butterflies.

If you were truly honest with yourself, you’d admit that you’re drawn to him; there’s an all-consuming attraction to the older Miller brother that you know is so wrong, and yet you can’t seem to stop. You care deeply about Tommy; what you have with him is good, it’s nice, but sometimes you find yourself wishing for more than that.

There are even nights when you fall asleep beside Tommy and dream of Joel instead. You wake up in the middle of the night, an overwhelming ache between your legs that even when Tommy attempts to relieve, you find yourself closing your eyes and imagining it’s his brother inside you instead. Of course it makes you feel bad; the guilt often eats away at you, and yet every day the craving for Joel only grows and leaves you desperate to know if he feels anything for you too.

Walking over to the cupboard beside Joel, you search for something to ease the pang of hunger in your tummy. In the corner of your eye you notice him glance towards you, pausing his movements at the sink as you feel his eyes examining you. You try to ignore him, turning away as you pad over to the opposite counter.

“What are ya doing?” His voice breaks through the tension. Can he feel it too?

“Making pancakes.”

He scoffs. “No, I mean… why are ya wearing that?”

You look over your shoulder, narrowing your eyes at him. “What do you mean?”

You watch him carefully as he allows his eyes to fall down your body, drinking you in as he leans back against the counter, the bob in his throat noticeable as he swallows.

“Joel?”

“That’s mine.”

“What?”

He nods towards you. “That’s mine.”

Your heart rate rises a little then, your eyes going wide as you realize what he means, and you pull the material further around you.

“I… I don't—" You laugh nervously, the redness creeping up your neck and into your cheeks. “But I found it in Tommy's room?”

“Well, I don’t know what to tell ya, sweetheart, but that’s my shirt.”

“No. No. This is Tommy’s. I’ve seen him wear this.” You haven't; you’re just scrambling to convince yourself that this isn’t happening.

“You’re mistaken. I’d even been looking for that this mornin'. Guess I left it here when I came over the other night.”

“Oh… I’m sorry.”

He tilts his head to the side, a smirk appearing on his lips as he pushes himself off the counter, taking a step closer towards you. "Ya trying to tease me, is that it?”

You blink, your mouth going dry as you try to process what he just said. “What? No, of course not.”

“I think you are. Want to torture me, don’t ya?”

You swallow. “I swear, I didn’t realize."

"Relax, don’t worry; it looks fuckin' good on ya."

You look away, trying to suppress the way he’s making you blush. “Joel…”

"Yeahhhh." His voice deepens then. “Say that again; I like hearing my name on your lips."

You meet his eyes, his words starting to take effect between your thighs. "Don't," you warn. This isn’t happening; he can’t be saying these things.

He takes another step towards you. You feel somewhat intimidated, small even, and yet you want him to continue; you want him as close as possible.

“What?” He asks. “Shouldn’t I say that? Jesus, you’re so innocent it’s adorable.”

“I should go change.” You say quietly and yet make no effort to move.

He ignores you. “Wearing anything underneath?”

“Stop.” His eyes drop down, noticing the rapid rise and fall of your chest.

“Why? Just tell me.”

You swallow again. Don’t do it. “…just panties.”

"Shit, darlin’. You've got my imagination goin' crazy.”

“That’s enough.”

“Fine.” He holds his hands up. “But if I see you wearing it again, I’ll have no choice but to take it off you myself.”

“You wouldn’t do that.” You smile, almost daring him.

“Wouldn’t I?”

“What about Tommy?”

“What about him?”

He makes the final steps towards you then, his hand coming to your waist, guiding you back until you're trapped between his broad frame and the counter. You try to speak, but nothing comes out.

"God, look at ya, such a sweet thing. All flustered, pretending like you don’t want this just as much as I do.” His lips hover above yours. “I’ve seen the way ya look at me… ya just too scared to admit that it’s me you want, not him.”

“He’s your brother, Joel.”

“Quiet.” His finger comes to rest on your parted lips to shush you. Slowly he inserts his finger into your mouth, your lips instinctively closing around it to suck. His eyes turn black then, and he pushes his hips into you, letting you feel what you’re doing to him before he withdraws his finger from your mouth with a pop. “We all desire things we probably shouldn't; that’s why it’s so hard to resist.”

“I can resist you.”

"No, ya can’t. If ya could you’d have left already.”

He’s right. You want this; you're aching for him to touch you.

He doesn’t take his eyes off yours as you feel him reach up between your bodies, his fingers fiddling with the buttons torturously slow until the fabric falls open. He waits a second, a smug grin on his lips before his eyes flick down to take in the sight before him.

“Fuuuuck, you’re so beautiful.” He bites his lip. “If you were mine…” he groans with a shake of his head. “I love my brother, but he doesn’t know how to treat ya right; he doesn’t know how to do the things only I could do to ya.”

The need for him between your legs is becoming overwhelming now; this might be so wrong, but it feels so right.

He reaches up, his finger stroking over your cheek, tracing down your jaw, your neck, until it grazes down over your nipple, making your breath hitch. He pauses there, his tongue dipping out to wet his bottom lip.

"More," you whisper.

“Patience, I’ll give ya more, don’t worry.”

His hand travels further down your body, over your tummy, and finally between your legs and over the damp lace.

“Jesus Christ," he pants. “You’re soaked, sweetheart.”

You move your hips against his fingers, desperately seeking more.

“Let’s get these off.” He pulls at the flimsy material, peeling it down your legs until you're completely bared to him.

He swipes a finger through your juices, up to your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to make your lips part and your head tip back.

“He doesn't get you this wet, does he?”

"Please,”

“He doesn't have ya fuckin' beggin'."

He teases you, brushing over your clit again and again, watching the way your body grinds against his hand and the way you pant his name.

“Don’t stop,”

He leans in to kiss you, pushing your mouth open with his tongue as he finally inserts a finger inside your tight walls. You cry out between kisses, the intrusion deeper than anticipated, especially when he adds a second.

“Good girl, doing so well for me.”

He knows it’s not going to take long; he can tell by the way you’re rutting against him, your whimper steadily getting louder as his fingers thrust quicker.

"Like it, huh?”

You nod.

“Wish it was my cock filling this tight pussy up instead?”

You nod. “Mmmh, I need you, Joel.”

“All in good time, baby girl.”

Then you hear it: the key in the front door.

“Someone’s here!” You panic, reaching down to grip his hand in an attempt to stop him, but he doesn’t let up.

He shakes his head, refusing to give in until you give him what he wants. “Almost there, just a little more.”

You hear the front door swing open as his free hand comes up to cover your mouth. “Don’t make a fuckin’ sound.”

“Hey, I’m home!” Shit. It’s Tommy.

By some miracle, something takes Tommy straight upstairs instead of the few steps into the kitchen, and relief washes over you as Joel continues to drive you towards your orgasm.

He leans in, pressing his bulge into your thigh, his lips tickling your skin as he whispers into your ear, “Cum for me.”

On his command, you grip his bicep so hard as your body begins to jolt violently against him, his palm successfully muffling your moans as he watches you fall apart around his fingers.

He doesn’t stop until he can see you can take no more, finally pulling away from you as Tommy's footsteps begin to descend down the stairs.

Tommy calls out for you again as you scramble to button up the flannel. You turn your back to his voice, hoping he won’t see how flushed your face is when he comes in.

Then you feel it, your boyfriend's hand smoothing along your back as he brushes past you, kissing your cheek in the process, and you hear Joel clear his throat on the other side of the room.

“Heyyyy, you okay?” Tommy asks.

“Mmmh.” You smile, but don’t meet his eyes as the guilt courses through you.

“You look a little flustered; are you coming down with something?”

“Yeah… maybe. I think I’ll go shower and freshen up.”

He tilts his head, trying to get you to look at him, but you don’t. “Want me to join you?” He winks.

“No.” It comes out too fast. Suspicious even.

Tommy frowns. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine.”

The growl of his stomach quickly turns his attention to food, and he turns to Joel. "Have you eaten yet, brother?”

You catch Joel’s eye then, watching as he brings his fingers to his mouth, slowly licking those that were just deep inside you moments ago, low hums escaping him as he tastes you.

“Yeah, just finished up.”

He says it so casually, and you can’t help but think how cruel you both are; Tommy doesn’t deserve this.

Yet despite the guilt, the way Joel still refuses to take his eyes off you starts to stir something inside of you all over again, and you worry that if you don’t leave the room now, it’ll become obvious.

"Wait." Tommy grabs your sleeve as you move away from him, and he frowns at you. “Baby, that’s Joel’s.”

“What?”

He laughs. “You’re wearing Joel’s shirt.”

You look down. “Oh…” you giggle nervously. “Silly me.” Before he can say anything else, you quickly leave the room and run upstairs towards the bathroom to wash away the evidence.

Exiting the bathroom, you fail to see Joel standing right outside until you bump into his chest. You look up at him, a startled look on your face as once again those dark hazel eyes search yours.

“Here.” You whisper, holding out the offending garment that caused all this.

"Keep it," he grunts.

“Are you crazy? I’m not sure Tommy would be too happy about that.”

His jaw tightens. “I’m not sure he’d be too happy if he knew I just made you cum in his own goddamn kitchen whilst he looked for you upstairs.”

You look away, the blush creeping back in. He reaches into his back pocket. "You keep that and I keep these.” You both look down to see your panties scrunched up in his palm.

You shake your head, pushing the shirt against his chest. “You can keep them, but we can never do this again.”

His nostrils flare as he takes your hand, pulling you into the bedroom you share with Tommy, pushing you back against the door.

“What are you—" His lips cut you off, his tongue pushing into your mouth as he grinds his hips into you.

You whimper softly before pushing him back hard, desperate for air. “I mean it, never again.”

"Ya don’t get to tell me I can keep your underwear like some fuckin' souvenir and then tell me never again.” He growls quietly. "Friday. He’s on patrol the entire night, and he’s taking Ellie with him. Come by my place once the sun goes down.”

"No.”

“Excuse me?”

“This isn’t right!”

“I won’t tell ya again. Friday. I’ll be waiting.”

He brushes past you then, opening the door and leaving the room as you stand there breathless and so wound up. You hear him run downstairs, casually saying goodbye to his brother as you stand there wondering what the hell you’ve gotten yourself into.

[beloved-by-the-moon]

Ah, what a treat for this morning!

[crystalline-]

Fleetwood Mac, Rumours Tour, 1977.

[6i]

the art of not belonging anywhere.

[superkometa]

Superhero team as a metaphor for online friendship

[superkometa]

I've known you for years, but don't know your name. I trust you with my biggest fears, but you'll never even know how I look. I wish I could take you to my favourite coffee shop or park, but I'll never be able. If something were to happen to you I would never know. You are one of most important people in my life, I wish I could introduce you to others

[shitpostingkats]

Jake Lockley (2021) appreciation post

[beloved-by-the-moon]

No matter what

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!Reader

Rating: 18+

Word count: <900

Summary: your beloved is coming back to you.

Warnings: no spoilers for the movie! Feel free to read even if you haven't seen it yet. Established relationship; unprotected p i v (while Din in his armor👉🏼👈🏼); oral m!receiving. A small, spicy fic with lots of love💖

Author's note: yesterday I watched The Mandalorian and Grogu. My mind is still somewhere far away from my mortal body, in some beautiful, beautiful place...

You always feel it. You always feel that you’ll see your beloved soon. Usually, you have no objective reasons to assume that this will happen. But you just know. Your heart flutters with joyful anticipation again and again, a dreamy smile doesn't leave your lips, and a barely perceptible warmth spreads deep inside your belly.

When Din appears at your doorstep, he brings with him the spirit of wanderings and distant battles. He smells of gunpowder, metal and leather, smells of his ship. Your palms rest on the armor on his chest; beskar is smooth and warm - heated by the gentle sun of your home planet.

Your fingertips touch his helmet; you can’t see his face right now, but you know with what hungry eyes he’s looking at you at this very moment. His hands lower onto your waist with a pleasant weight, and you let him draw you inside your small, cozy house.

Settling onto his lap, you begin to unhurriedly rid him of his armor. Din lets you do it without saying a word - you’ve done this so many times, he’s lost count. He knows you’ll manage.

The first thing you do is pull off his gloves; his large, rough palms immediately lay on your soft thighs, caressing them - almost timidly. This time, you haven’t seen each other for longer than usual; to tell the truth, he doubted you’d still be waiting for him. To tell the truth, he doubts it a little every damn time. But you’re always waiting for him - how could it be otherwise?

The bandolier and the belt join the gloves on the floor. The details of his armor, forged from beskar, are treated with special respect: you know how significant it is, you know that it is part of Mandalorian culture, a symbol of their traditions, a source of their pride. At that moment, Din quietly calls your name. You raise your gaze.

You don’t need his words - you understand that he can’t wait any longer. Neither can you. Usually, the two of you are in no hurry, savoring every moment of your long-awaited reunion. This time, everything is different.

Undoing his pants, you feel his taut flesh beneath your fingers and lick your parched lips. Lifting the hem of your skirt, you impatiently straddle him, and, pushing aside the thin fabric of your panties, slowly lower yourself onto his thick cock. Din tightly grips your hips, and you hear him exhale heavily beneath his helmet when he fills you completely.

You don’t try to take off his helmet - even though you desperately want to kiss him right now. But you don’t even ask him to do it. You know there are rules. And you know he’ll inevitably do it himself, because you’ve seen his beautiful face so many times. Gently pressing your palms against the metal chest plates, you lean your forehead against his helmet and moan softly.

Your bodies move in perfect rhythm. With every thrust, Din strives to penetrate you as deeply as possible; he can’t, he just can’t get enough of you - this separation has lasted far too long. You cum incredibly intensely and embarrassingly quickly, and your man, unable to hold back, follows you.

In his armor, Din looks incredibly hot - you're driven wild by that combination of power and nobility. And no matter how much you love fucking the Mandalorian in his full gear, what you both need even more is to feel each other.

A fresh scar on his left side doesn’t escape your gaze - it looks like the wound was pretty serious. Biting your lip, you gently brush your fingertips against it. You notice a couple more new ones, but this, the big one, really bothers you. Leaning in, you kiss each of them, silently praying for your love to protect him when the beskar can’t.

Strong muscles tense beneath his dusky skin when your lips touch the bottom of his stomach. Your man mutters that it isn’t necessary, but it’s what you want right now. You want all of him. The tastes of his and your release, which you can feel on your tongue, are literally intoxicating you, and his hoarse moans and his palm on your nape completely driving you crazy.

You make love two more times that night before finally falling asleep in each other’s arms, exhausted but utterly happy. As you drift off to sleep, you feel Din gently press his lips to your forehead.

Waking up in the morning, you find your beloved attentively watching you. Still sleepy, you smile at him, but he remains serious. Your heart sinks, and you snuggle closer to him.

You know he has to leave again - and, obviously, very soon. Obviously, much sooner than either of you would like. This is the way…

And you’ll let him go. You’ll tell him everything you feel, tell him how much you love him, promise him that you’ll always be waiting for him. And then you’ll let him go, knowing that he’ll always come back to you.

He’ll come back to you no matter what.

[backp0rchpoet]

oh this is so sweet . 🥹 and hot of course whew ! 🥵🥵

i can only imagine what it’s like for someone like din to always be pulled away from a loved one for long stretches at a time , but it is such a comfort for him to know that no matter how far he goes he always has a home to come back to , a constant anchor that keeps his compass straight , and always steering his ship back to them .

thank you for writing this ! 💛💛

[beloved-by-the-moon]

You're absolutely right about everything you said! I love how you felt what I wanted to convey in this fic🥹 Thank you for reading, reblog, and your comment! It means the world to me🤍