#just take care of myself. it’s just hard. I feel so guilty

[werebutch]

My dad won’t leave me the hell alone . I know that he’s prone to paranoid delusions but it was a lot easier to deal with when it was something like being convinced he’s a demon sent from hell. How am I supposed to convince a man his bitch ex wife and his bitch daughters aren’t plotting to ‘split his family up’ as he puts it. He is so convinced there’s no arguing. And if I refuse to argue he will yell more and tell me how I have no argument because I know he’s right. I know I shouldn’t react to that but it makes my blood boil 😐

[whentherewerebicycles]

.

[dogearedheart]

8i've been thinking about the last asks i got today. and i think it's better for me to take a step back from this account. i know the anon didn't mean anything by it, but i still feel like i am being a negative presence on here and weirding people out with who i am is nothing i want. so, i am not deleting or anything. i am just gonna be less present with sharing personal things or leaving tags. I'll probably be more active on my second account where i don't have that many followers :)

[mutalune]

hey siri how do I stop feeling gutwrenchingly anxious in the guilt way for using the treatment methods available to me to not be in constant misery

[sleepdeprivationandcoffee]

If any of you plan on having kids, please for your sake please have a good support system. I mean people who will take kiddo for a few hours so you can sleep/clean/relax without stressing, people who will help with chores and help pick up the slack when you start feeling worn thin, and people who will encourage and remind you that you’re doing great. It’s so so so hard when you can’t get the help you need.

Future parents, please do this for yourself. Please ask for help and build yourself a safety net of people you trust to care for you like you would care for them.

[hexgh0ul]

Once again thinking about how I am always cleaning up after and taking care of everyone and just once would like to either be cared for or at least just left the fuck alone

[babybarbies]

can i skip to when im 40 and im ok

[leebrontide]

Every single time I see a take that amounts to "if you write about X happening, or like fiction where X happens, you like X" I'm reminded of this one time I was at a casual friends house as a young kid. We were in her room, pretending to "be orphans" escaping from an evil orphanage and having to take care of each other and fend for ourselves. It was all very Little Orphan Annie/All Dogs Go to Heaven and based on the 80s pop media.

And this girl's mom comes in, hears what we're playing and gets all MAD and UPSET. She says that if we play act something, it's because we want it to happen. So her daughter must WANT HER TO DIE.

First off lady, we were 6 year year olds, so take it down several notches. We barely had a concept of mortality for fucks sake. She made us feel so guilty and ashamed, because she was taking our game personally.

Now I have a 5 year old. And sometimes she looks at me and says "pretend you're dead, and I have to -" Whatever it is. Some adult task she's assigned herself.

And it's just so transparently obvious that she's practicing the idea of having to do things on her own. Which is exactly what 5 year olds are supposed to do. I actually find it very flattering that the only way she can envision me not being available to help her is to be literally deceased. Otherwise, obviously, she wouldn't have to do scary hard things alone.

It's a natural coping mechanism. She's self-soothing about what would happen if I wasn't there by play-acting independence in a perfectly safe environment. She's also practicing skills she needs, and making up excuses for practicing them on her own, without taking on the responsibility of being able to do them by herself all the time yet.

Humans mentally rehearse bad this in their brains all the time. We can do that by ruminating- going over worries over and over again, which tends to lead to anxiety and helplessness and depression. Or we can do it with a sense of play- by recognizing that the fiction is fiction and we can dip our toe into these experiences and expose ourselves to bad things without actually being injured.

My daughter does not want me dead. And I don't want bad things to happen in real life. But fiction and pretend help me face the horrors of the world and think about them without collapsing or messing myself up mentally.

[cloudd-nyne]

.

[shadow4-1]

I'm just imagining having spent the night with a lover who isn't in the 141, only to wake up the next morning and there's in intervention waiting for you in the rec room.

Like, at first you're just confused. But when Price opens his mouth to ask you about how you slept...you have a bit of a meltdown. Why does it matter? Why is everyone staring at you? What's going on?

Soap grabs the collar of your t-shirt and pulls it down so everyone can get a look at the dark hickies dotting your neck. You slap his hand away, tears in your eyes.

"So all of you can do whatever you want? Sneak bitches on base and fuck around at all the bars we pass through! But I'm not allowed to do anything with someone I actually like?!"

It hurts. It feels like you're being stripped bare in front of them.

Price sighs, his gaze softens. It's obvious he doesn't want to have this conversation but something you've done has given him no choice. Soap just stands a few feet away, chest puffed out, eyeing you with a strange annoyance. You know if you try to leave he'll stop you.

"You are...not in the same position as us." Price tries and winces. He's obviously not putting his thoughts into soft enough words, but he continues. "You are...it is our responsibility to keep you safe."

"Safe? You're trying to keep me safe?" Your voice is raised higher than you've ever raised it at Price. "Safe by what? Fighting off all the guys at the bars? Safe by spreading lies about me to all of the PMCs and the other Task Forces?"

Price just closed his eyes and set his jaw. He had to know about the subterfuge you'd been experiencing for well over a couple years now. Everyone in the room was guilty as charged.

"You're and asset. And you're also a liability." Ghost speaks up, eyes narrowed, stance way too relaxed against the metal folding chair he sits in. "Do you remember what happened to the 7th Division?"

Saliva pools in your mouth, a sudden queasiness filling your stomach. Yeah, of course you remembered. Their beloved medic had been kidnapped by a group of angry drug lords using a mercenary group as their muscle. The 7th Division had gone in guns blazing to get their member back and well...they'd been wiped out. And their star medic they'd sacrificed everything for? She'd been brainwashed and inducted into the very agency that stole her away.

KORTAC

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" You mutter. "Please tell me you're not."

"We can't have you fraternizing with anyone." Price states smoothly. "As our medic, you have a responsibility to us, your team. We can't have you getting caught up in something bigger."

"I understand what you're saying, but can't you see how ridiculous this is?" You try to reason. "I'm human, I have- god this is embarrassing. I h-have wants and...needs, just like you guys."

The silence is loud. You can't meet anyone's gaze. Price steps closer to you, swallowing hard. His next few words are spoken softly, conspiratorially.

"All of your needs will be taken care of. We will never let you suffer by yourself."

Price cocks his head to the men before you both. All of them straighten beneath his gaze. Price places a hand on the small of your back.

"Whatever it takes." He commands them. "I better not hear or see anything. Do I make myself clear?"

A trio of "yessirs" bounce off the white walls. Price just smiles and nods. He pats your back.

"There we go. You'll be fine." He sighs. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to talk to your guest."

Your eyes widen, your throat drops into your stomach.

"Wait!"

"We've got ye, Bonnie. You n' all yer needs."

Six hands are on you from several different angles. Their massive frames block out the fluorescent lights.

"Ah, where are you goin'?" Gaz chuckles, his arm wraps around your belly.

You try to run after Price but the rec room door is slammed shut and locked. You try to push the closest man away, but he just grins down at you.

[mattybsgroupie]

birthday | matt sturniolo

contents: established relationship; oral (f receiving); praising; degradation; restraining; p in v; creampie; use of “y/n”; dom!matt

- ♡ -

notes: good evening my loves! i hope we’re still celebrating matt’s birthday around here cause i only got the motivation to write after receiving this request and i’m finally feeling better so expect many fics coming. yes i am doing a lot of dom!matt but i promise i’ll go back to my sub!matt agenda after posting part 2 of secret (yes, with that thing y’all asked for). thank you for being so patient with me and for all the love, you guys are the best. not proofread as usual, please excuse any mistakes! enjoy <3

requested by: the sweetest @ivammbb! this request made me so happy and i really hope you enjoy it sweetheart!

- ♡ -

“i already said no y/n, stop trying” matt hissed as my digits ran through the veins of his neck, going upwards to caress his beard. i really was trying my best — we couldn’t celebrate his birthday properly, and now matt insisted he didn’t want anything. i pouted at him, pretending to be upset that he was punishing me.

“stop” he said again, this time in a softer tone. i knew he wasn’t actually mad, he just wanted to see me suffer a little bit. “you know i can’t resist when you pout like that” he grabbed my jaw with his long fingers, tilting my chin up so i’d look at his blue eyes. matt smirked as i parted my lips, my breath getting heavier with the thought of him holding my neck with the same pressure he’d kept my jaw locked.

“you wanna make up for it? for being a brat and not giving me a birthday gift?” i nodded eagerly, adjusting myself on his lap. matt closed his eyes for a second with the sudden movement of my ass over his covered cock, which i could feel becoming harder under me.

“fucking behave” he said while placing his thumb at my lower lip, playing with the flesh before intruding my mouth, resting his finger against my tongue, expecting me to start sucking.

i latched my lips around his knuckle, swirling my tongue the same way i used to do with his dick. matt brought his index near my lips, exchanging the fingers inside and pushing it deeper down my throat. i wanted to be good. i needed to be good for him, to show him how guilty i felt for not celebrating his birthday on time.

“atta girl” matt praised, sending a shiver down my spine as he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, letting me rest my cheek against his free palm. “are you gonna be good for me?”

“yes” i mumbled, touching his wrist, silently asking for permission to remove him from my mouth. i guided matt’s hand to my breasts, allowing him to cup my titties as i leaned forward, brushing my lips against his.

matt took my lips to himself in a hungry, passionate kiss, full of longing and desire. his hand quickly slipped under my t-shirt, dragging his large palm along my tummy, tracing its way up to my bra, which he attempted to unhook several times.

“don't you wanna take a look at it first?” i asked in the midst of our kiss, tugging at the hem of my t-shirt and teasing him. matt rested his hands on my thighs again, eventually stroking my hips and trying not to press too hard, unwilling to let out the desperation that the twitching cock under me revealed.

i took my top off, showing him my new lingerie — one i had bought just for him, for his birthday. his eyes widened for a second before giving me a naughty smirk, admiring the pink pattern of the fabric and the ruffles that adorned my breasts. “you look so pretty”, he whispered, biting my earlobe.

“there's more”, i said as i wrapped my forearms around his neck, moving closer to his chest. he slid his fingers into my shorts, squeezing my ass and playing with the fabric of my panties.

i careful lifted my ass up, granting him access to remove my shorts before pressing my weight down on him again. i was only wearing the lingerie set now, feeling confident that he had enjoyed the surprise. my panties also had a bow that matched the details of my bra and matt rapidly changed his expression when he noticed that my underwear was already soaked.

“how long have you been planning that, hm?” he asked while sealing his lips on my bare skin. i already knew that i wouldn't be able to celebrate his birthday on time, so i had been saving this set for a special occasion. “naughty girl” he didn't need the answer. he was aware i had spent way longer than i should have.

“you still need to be punished, baby” matt said, stopping the kisses on my neck and looking at me with faux sympathy. i denied it with my head once again, matt clicking his tongue on the roof of his mouth in disapproval. “yes, don't be a brat. even though you look beautiful right now, you were a bad fucking girl to me”. fuck, i loved when he talked like that.

matt flipped our bodies, getting on top of me, leaving me completely at the mercy of his will. he was still fully dressed, not caring about how much his drooling cock marked his pants, the pre-cum stain appearing on the grey sweater.

his digits traced my body, gently caressing my thighs before resting his face on my hipbone, giving kisses that soon turned into love bites. matt moved to the insides of my flesh, making a hickey that only he would be able to see later. i desperately brought my fingers to his brown locks, silently pleading for some attention on the part he hadn't even gotten close to.

matt stuck out his tongue, giving a long lick over the wet patch on my panties. i could see him smirking as soon as my fingers tangled in his strands, pushing his head down to stay in place and finally eat me out.

“i'm not taking it off babe” he said, cutting my expectations but soon raising his index, pulling the seams of my panties aside, exposing my swollen pussy. “look so pretty like that, my good little slut” his words made me hold back a moan and shift my hips downwards, begging for a bit of friction.

matt adjusted his position between my legs, still pulling my underwear aside and holding my hips with both hands before bringing his face closer to my clit. he let out a thick string of saliva fall down from his lips, spitting against my heated clit before sucking on my lower lips, rolling his tongue through my wet folds. as my legs began twitching, matt focused his attention on my clit, swirling his tongue around it and sucking harder.

“stop squirming around” he muffled, sending a wave of vibrations through my pussy, making my hips buck upwards as the knot in my lower belly started to get tighter. “fucking whore, can't even control yourself?”

“‘m s-sorry! fuck!” i whimpered, trying my best to stay in place. matt clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth once again, disapproving my behavior. he gave one last lick on my folds, gradually removing himself from my heat and making me groan from the lack of stimulation.

“on fours. now.” he demanded and i crossed my legs, bringing my foot to my ankle and caressing it, teasing him. “you wanna play so fucking much?” matt hissed, standing up on the bed with both knees and reaching for something in the first drawer of the nightstand. “i'll tell you one more time, y/n. turn over”

“what if i don't?” i didn't even notice that the words had slipped out of my mouth, startling myself when matt revealed a silk ribbon that we only had used a few times, usually to blindfold each other on sexier nights.

i thought that was about to happen, he’d blindfold me and fuck me relentlessly. instead, he grabbed my thighs and flipped me over on the bed, pressing my chest against the mattress, forcing my back down so my ass would remain up. he gave me a hard slap, causing me to moan as i felt the warm tingle of his palm making my blood rush.

“you're such a slut” matt said, and even though i couldn't fully see him anymore, i knew he had a wide grin on his face. still standing on his knees, matt hovered over my body, taking one of my hands and placing it on my lower back. i whined, realizing that he was about to tie me up and restrain my movements.

he reached for my other arm and pulled it together with the previous one, gathering my wrists and quickly tying them with the pink silk ribbon that matched my lingerie. matt didn't tie it too tightly — i knew he wouldn't hurt me — but the feeling of giving him total control of my body made my pussy clench again, my juices dripping through the cloth.

“didn’t even wanna take this pretty little thing off” he talked about my panties as he touched my waistband, gently allowing it to slide down my thighs. he squeezed my ass once again, spreading my asscheeks apart as he took his cock out of his pants, guiding it near my pussy.

matt brushed his shaft against my entrance, and dragged his dick along my folds, pushing its throbbing tip on my clit before returning to my hole. “don't wanna hear a word, alright?” he warned me, starting to bury himself inside of me.

i couldn't stop a groan from rising in the back of my throat as he entered me completely. matt was huge and he didn't give me time to adjust to his size, bucking his hips forward, one hand gripping my arms back while the other supported my body so i wouldn't fall on the sheets beneath us. nevertheless, his moves were smooth and steady, not wanting to cum too fast after being away for too long.

“matt, mhm-” i attempted to speak, receiving a deep thrust of his length, making me squeeze my eyes shut as my wrists frantically struggled to be freed from his grip, which only got tighter. “please!” i managed to cry out, pushing my hips back, receiving a moan from him.

“y/n, fuck” he grunted, lowering his body closer to mine, almost gluing his chest to my back. matt started to kiss my shoulders and every piece of flesh his lips could reach, his pace now becoming faster and sloppier, not being able to keep a proper rhythm as my walls clenched against his drooling cock.

“cum-” i panted, “wanna cum, please”

“you think” matt started “you deserve” he continued, bucking his hips forward as he spoke, “to cum?” i couldn't form a single sentence anymore, my mind becoming foggy as i tried to hold my approaching orgasm.

my legs had no strength left and i knew the only reason i was standing was because his large hand held me up. “can’t even speak?” i denied with my head, my parted lips letting out loud cries.

“cum for me” he demanded and i thanked him mindlessly as my orgasm crashed down on me, the waves of pleasure causing my body to tremble and bounce on his cock, also leading matt to his climax, cumming long, thick spurts inside of me.

“that’s it princess, making a mess on my cock like the good slut you aren” his dick twitched as his release filled me up, a few last truths to help him finish off.

matt slowly pulled out, making me whine as i felt the mixture of both of our releases dripping down my thighs. he chuckled at the scene, finally letting go of my wrists and allowing me to rest. matt lied down next to me, his hand caressing my body as we both took deep breaths, slowly coming back to our senses.

“happy belated birthday baby” i whispered, receiving a giggle from him as he moved closer to me, opening his arms so i would snuggle into his chest.

“you’re the best gift i could ask for” he said, kissing the top of my head and smiling, finally forgiving me for not being there on his birthday.

- ♡ -

taglist (drop a 🌸!): @thepubeburgler @submattenthusiast @pearlzier @mattsfavbitchhh @her-favorite @bugeyedgrl @mattslittlecumsslut @sturncakez @riowritesitall @joemamaaa42069 @mattsturnswife @sturnsmia @sturnthepot @mattscoquette @sturniolofandomthings @conspiracy-ash @ilovemattsturn @lizzymacdonald06 @sofieeeeex @blahbel668 @fratbrochrisgf @bagsbyclair0 @sturnobsessedwh0re @cayleeuhithinknot @sturniolo04 @1c3b4th @mattsfavbigtitties @bellassturniolo @sturnsxplr-25

[imsilay]

SMARTY

NSFW! mdni +18, cw: toxic!König, jealous!König, pussy slapping, König punishing the reader and he isn’t gentle… possessive behavior, manipulating?

word count: 1.8k

summary: König wants you all for himself so he made sure you only want him.

art cr: temir03_bek

The coffee shop had perfect coffee and a wonderful view. Your friends surrounded you and some of them were close. So close that he had to clench his fist to not break that arm around your shoulder. He didn’t like when someone else touched his belongings. The urge to lock you in and hide from the whole word was wandering in his mind. He warned you. He warned you so many times before. He didn't like your stupid friends. Why would you need them anyway? You had him and he was enough. How could you be so carefree, letting them touch you while knowing it drove him insane? Why couldn't you understand that you're his and his only? Was that how you welcomed him after his long mission: Ignoring him and chatting with your friends instead? It was supposed to be just the two of you, not your stupid friends constantly stealing your attention from him. He squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath to soothe his violent thoughts about the arm around your shoulder. Once he was feeling calmer, he approached you. When your eyes met his you knew something was wrong. You shrugged off the arm around your shoulder as you swallowed thickly. He leaned in and whispered to your ear. “I’m tired.” a wave of relief washed over you when he talked you with a sweet tone, you still couldn't shake off the feeling that something was off. Despite the feeling, you smiled and waved goodbye to your friends.

The moment you walked through the front door, he immediately locked up and hid the keys. Your brows furrowed in confusion and anxiety as you watched him closely. "König, what are you doing?" you asked, nervous as your gaze locked onto him. "I don't like them." When he crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, his huge arms and veins made your heart skip a beat. "Who are you talking about?" you mumbled, feeling even more nervous as you grasped at the sides of your shirt. His gaze lowered to your hands and then back up to your eyes. He sensed your anxiety and was annoyed that you were standing away from him. If you ask him the best way to calm down was letting him take the control of everything. “You know who.” his tone was calm but cold and distant. It made you even more nervous. You felt like you did something wrong. You felt guilty but you didn’t stepped back. “Care to explain why you don’t like them?” you crossed your arms, imitating him. One of his brows raised and he looked you up and down. The sudden attitude taking him by surprise. “Because…” he sighed and sat on the couch. “They stole your attention from me. I want you all for myself.” he said casually. Before you could say anything, he grabbed your hand and pulled you into his lap, making you straddle him as your legs wrapped around his waist. You tried to get up but it was useless against his strength. "I can't just ditch them and focus on you." you said, rolling your eyes. His attempt to stay calm and patient was failing miserably as you got on his nerves. "Mine." he growled into your ear, squeezing your thighs tightly, his frustrations growing. “Let go of me.” you scowled when he grabbed your thighs harder. “Du gehst nirgendwohin.” (You’re not going anywhere.) he growled. He was risking everything to just to be with you. And yet you’re here arguing with him like the brat you were. You continued to squirm, testing his limits. He took a sharp breath with irritation. A hard slap landed on your face, making your ear ring. It was the last thing you’d expect. His large, calloused hand caused too much pain that your lips quivered and eyes filled with tears. when you surrender König kissed your cheek softly. “Do you understand now, Maus? I don’t want you to be close with them. You’re only mine.” he whispered. You nodded. He leaned in and kissed the mark he left on your cheek. “Du bist mein.” He mumbled rapidly and kissed it once, twice, three more times, as if to apologize for hurting you. “Such a good girl.” he purred in delight when you submit him. His hands caressed your back as he kissed wherever he could reach on your face and neck. Showering you with kisses before he ruin you.

You wanted to run away but you couldn’t bring yourself to leave him. He was your everything. The thought of living without him made your heart ache. Even if he hit you, you knew he loved you and cared about you deeply. He just wanted to keep you safe, right? You hesitated to understand his morals after what happened today. Your body trembled ever so slightly and he noticed it. He noticed everything about you. Any subtle movement would catch his eye. He adjusted your position on his lap. Now you were leaning back against his chest and your legs were draped over his. "Are you afraid of me, Maus?" He whispered into your ear. "I'm not." you murmur with a pathetic attempt to sound tough, but your voice is almost above a whisper. “You should be." he responded, wrapping his big arms around your waist and pressing your back against his chest tight. Your breath hitched. You felt so small as his body covered yours, like a warm blanket. The sting of his slap still lingered on your cheek even after all those kisses. He doesn't regret it. In fact, both of you know you deserved it. You should’ve known better than making him jealous.

He kept holding you in his arms with iron grip, as if he was afraid that you'd leave. He was indeed afraid of someone stealing you from him. “Do you love me, Maus?” his whispered. Your body tensed when his hand slide down your body. His face was buried into your neck, his lips pressed to your pulse. You knew where this was going. König had a strange way to punish you, very strange. But tonight was different. His hands weren't gentle as they were before. It took you long to respond. He didn’t liked it. The room was quiet but your heart was beating loudly in your ear. “I love you.” you finally breathed out. His grip loosened ever so slightly. He smiled against your neck. “Ich liebe dich auch, Maus.” he whispered and kissed your pulse. He always loved the feeling of your pulse under his lips. You trusted him enough to be vulnerable with him even when you knew he could break a man’s spine without effort. It gave him a feeling of control over you.

Eventually his hands arrived at destination. Your back arched against his chest but he pulled you still with one of his arms around your waist. “But i still need to teach you a lesson, Maus.” He tugged your pants down revealing your cute little cunt and panties. His middle and index finger rubbed at your clit through the thin fabric of your panties making you squeeze your thighs together. “Nein, Maus. Open them wide f’me.” he whispered in a threatening tone. You did as he said. Who you were to deny him? He kissed your pulse again. The room was now filled with your little whimpers. His eyes never leaving your pretty cunt to watch how wet it got when he played with you. “Always so sensitive.” he purred. How do you think he would let anyone touch you when you were this responsive? What if they -even accidentally- made you feel like he did? The thought of another man or woman touching you made him see red. He ripped your panties and shoved his fingers into your tight hole. Like he was in a hurry to prove you he was the best. His fingers curled inside your walls and hit all the spots he knew by heart. Your back arched and hands grabbed his forearm but he bit your shoulder making you let go immediately. “Braves Mädchen, let König take care of your needy cunt.” he mumbled as he fingered your dripping hole in a brutal pace and rubbed your clit with his thumb. The pleasure was too much to bare. You tipped your head back on his shoulder. His gaze turned to your face and he watched how your face twisted in please. “So suß.” he cooed and kissed your chin. “Your friends are useless, Maus. They’re nothing compared to me.” he mumbled as he frantically fingered you. His lengthy and thick fingers easily making you squirm. “They’re not useless. I love them.” you managed to process his words and mumble an answer. Your walls clenched around his fingers signaling that you’re close. “Ja, really? More than me?” he stopped his fingers but still kept them inside you. You whined and tried to rock your hips but his arm around your waist pinned you to his chest. “Answer me, Maus.” he pumped his fingers into you once drawing a whiny moan. “N-no.” you whimpered and dug your fingers into his thighs. “Please don’t stop.” you pleaded as your hips moved by its own chasing that sweet release. He wouldn’t let you have it now. You have to squirm more and beg for it. “Benimm dich, Maus.” (Behave.)

his fingers slowly moved in and out as his arm kept you still. It was almost painful that how slow he was. “Promise me you will never see them again.” he mumbled with a dark voice. You shook your head in protest. You didn’t wanted to lose your friends just because he said so. A hard slap landed on your dripping cunt making you jolt with pain and taking you by surprise. A gasp escaped from you. His big hand covering your pussy when he hit you again. His palm now covered with your slick. “Use your words. Tell me you don’t love them, you don’t need them.” he growled and hit your clit. Your eyes went wide and hips twitched. But his strong arm kept you in place. Not leting you move away from the punishment. He hissed when he saw how red your puffy lips become with just a few slap. “Do you want me to bruise your little cunt?” he hissed then another hard slap landed on your cunt. You shook your head desperately. “I’m so sorry. I-i hate them.” You did your best to not cry but the teasing was too much. You felt like you could cum with just his big, calloused hands slapping your wet cunt. “König please.” you whimpered and buried your head into his neck. “I only love you. I promise.” you cried. He kissed your exposed neck and his fingers caressed your abused pussy. “Braves Mädchen.” he purred. It was enough for him. The way you begged and claimed you only loved him made his cock throb in his pants. He pushed his fingers into your tight hole and picked up the pace. “Let go Maus. I know you’re close.” he mumbled as he watched how you dripped from his fingers to couch. All the slapping and teasing made you weak. So you cum, hard. You didn’t knew if it was because the way he kissed your neck or his skilled fingers.

a/n: please support me by reblogging, if you liked the content ofc <3 your comments also makes my day :*

i have no idea what i just wrote- confession: i’m too lazy to write aftercare :’)

tags

@sanzuandmikey @leeeenistop @0151imagayone @0mint-chocolate0 @wybwtjmiadz

also i post everyday -sometimes 2 posts in a day- so if you follow me i won’t disappoint ;)

[rockingbytheseaside]

✦ The Strong and The Feeble

(Il Capitano with sick reader / tw: general description of illness, coughing, or physical pain. sfw)

Imagine Il Capitano with a sick darling, one whose health is often at risk. Your condition has been chronic for as long as you remember since your well-being is susceptible to common ailments and pain. And yet, it never hindered Il Capitano’s admiration towards you. Instead, it only amplified his urge to shield and protect you.

Imagine the mighty Harbinger returning from a prolonged expedition, his strides cutting through the secluded snowy terrain to reach a quaint manor on the outskirts of Snezhnaya. The mere sensation of the crisp taiga air beckons him to yearn for the upcoming warmth of your arms. Capitano barely has a moment to enter the manor and hand in his coat to the servants when a familiar voice calls out – “Is that him? Is he home already? Capi…!”

Imagine Il Capitano opening his arms and rushing to scoop you, both in worry and longing to feel your body against him. It appears that today is one of your brighter days, as you allow your weary body to move forward and welcome him directly instead of remaining in bed, even when a retinue of worried maids are trailing behind you. But expending your energy is no longer a worry, as Capitano effortlessly lifts you in a tender embrace with his armored hands.

“My beloved, I missed you dearly… But you shouldn’t overexert yourself just to welcome me. Save your energy for me, sweetheart.”

But you never allow your mood to change along with your ailments. Bedridden or not, you always greet your Knight despite your conditions. He doesn’t deserve to feel any more worry from your demeanor than he already does when he is away at work. Unbeknownst to you, Capitano sees right through you and the lengths you go to conceal your coughs, troubled breaths, or fatigue.

Any day that Capitano makes it back home is a celebration. He misses you terribly, and his Fatui expeditions became a driving force to work hard for you. He’ll return home with rare herbs, expensive medicine, or anything that your condition might require. Even when he is on a mission abroad, his mind keeps conjuring ideas on what unique gifts and books he must search for.

Imagine how Capitano’s prolonged mission heightened his worry for you. Thus, once he's settled at home, no longer donning his armor, Capitano will personally step in to take care of you. His hand is always protectively sweeping over your forehead and hair, ensuring your temperature is in check. He'll often dismiss the servants so he can bring you hot beverages to ease your sore throat. Only after confirming you've taken your medication and are resting on fresh sheets will the typically composed Harbinger release a sigh and join you in bed.

“Dear, you just got home. You mustn't trouble yourself so. You know I can take care of myself if needed to… I'm not that helpless, Capi.”

Il Capitano would apologize, tighten his arm around your shoulder, and softly nuzzle his face to a tender kiss on your cheek. However, internally, he is sighing wistfully, because he knows that on sunny days there are looming shadows as well. Sometimes, your illness takes a toll on you, your voice becoming hoarse and your coughing more frequent. Moving or even lifting your head would cause a headache, but the Harbinger never backs away in such circumstances.

You can barely speak on those days. But even as you lay in bed Capitano can tell you feel guilty and try to dismiss his aid. You even try to conjure up a weak smile. A smile that brings the Harbinger to his knees, kneeling beside your bed and silently cursing whatever celestial fate allowed you to suffer so.

"Shhh... sweetheart. I know you despise it, but you must comply to drink this medicine. I will not let ailments win over you."

Imagine how Capitano would never trade any paradise for seeing you smile on the rare days that you feel better. You try to move around, dismissing any help from the servants. Capitano would step in, link a protective arm around yours, and take you on a stroll in the manor's garden. The imposing Captain would make sure his steps are slow and careful so you won't feel rushed. However, the opposite always occurs. Keen to use the most of your condition today, you keep rushing off ahead of him.

Imagine Il Capitano rushing after you gently, catching you before you accidentally trip or fall from your childlike sprints. With a single arm around your torso, he easily picks you up from behind. His tender warnings go unheard as you giggle joyously. A rare and merry sound for him.

If the Snezhnayan weather allows it, he brings a designated blanket to drape over your legs, ensuring your comfort as the two of you spend the entire morning outdoors. He’d hold you close, sharing tales of his battles and missions. But what’s the point of talking about work when you can’t even accompany him and all he does is fight for the sake of returning home – to you.

Who has the right to define what constitutes strength and weakness? Perhaps for some, physical prowess and overcoming adversity may epitomize the ultimate warrior, while the opposite rings true for the meek. Nonetheless, a certain Harbinger will argue against it. For even he weakens at the sight of your unwavering smile, whenever you are at your worst condition. Or when you muster the deepest courage to get up on your own instead of seeking help. Who is he to boast as the strongest person in Teyvata, when every day you fight to survive?

Hence, imagine the 1st of the Fatui Harbinger lowering his head in reverence for you. Despite your bewilderment in his manners, he seeks your embrace so he can hear that heartbeat safe and beating, praising each day he gets to hold you in his arms. -

[alchemistc]

i like your voice in person

Evan's staring at the bed like he's trying to navigate a minefield.

Six months ago that would have sent Tommy on another journey of self-deprecation, a reminder that he'd known Evan wasn't ready for this, known this was a possibility, but Evan, for all his own insecurities, knows what the hell he wants and if he'd felt even an ounce of pressure or remorse up to this point he'd have said something long before now.

Sometimes Evan likes to work it out himself, and sometimes he needs a little nudge, and Tommy watches the head tilt and the angle of his pursed lips for cues as he settles under the sheets.

"Something on your mind?" he prompts, and Evan blinks, like he hadn't realized he'd gotten lost in his thoughts.

"Uh...nothing, maybe."

"Sounds like something, probably."

Evan's smile tilts up at one corner, and he settles on the bed a little stiffly. "It's nothing major. Just. Something I've been thinking about?"

He can feel his brows jumping, can see the way Evan takes in the look with a fond expression. Evan steels himself for something -- they're still muddling through past experiences and learning how to be a bit more intentional in some of their conversations, because they both have a bad habit of reverting to flirting and deflection.

"You remember what we talked about last weekend?"

Tommy can genuinely remember about 93 percent of what he and Evan talk about at any given time, which is an astronomically high number and not at all an exaggeration. He'd be embarrassed about it if he didn't have clear evidence that Evan was as deep into this as he was.

They talk a lot, is the thing, about inconsequential shit just as much (definitely more) than the important stuff. They talk far more than Tommy can remember talking in any other relationship he's been in. But Tommy can pinpoint the exact one he means.

"You mean the roles thing."

Evan hadn't been a stranger to a little daddy talk in bed when they started to explore it, and he'd brought it up right at the start for a reason, but Tommy had taken a while to come around to the realization that Evan had sort of internalized the 'I don't have daddy issues' of it all in a way that Tommy hadn't actually meant it. There'd been little things, here and there; like Evan reaching a door before him and then bashfully waiting with it half open like he'd made a misstep; like twisting his mouth a little funny when he snatched the bill from the table before Tommy could get it. Little things.

Things that, in the abstract, yeah, Tommy liked to do for his partners, but in reality weren't actually that big a deal to him.

He'd needed to clear the air.

Evan nods. Curls a hand around his knee before he shifts his body so that he's facing Tommy. "So, I like taking care of people."

(A conversation, a month ago, Evan grimacing around "My therapist says I have to stop calling myself a people pleaser in a derogatory way.")

Tommy hums, something to remind Evan he's listening.

"And I guess I sort of built up this idea in my head that that was like, a hard stop with you."

("Everyone likes being taken care of sometimes, Evan.")

"And I'm not -- I'm not upset at you, or like, feeling guilty, I just -- I've been thinking about it, and I feel like I forgot to ask you how you wanted to be taken care of."

The thing with Evan is that no matter how often he'll deflect with a joke, when he wants to say something serious he's blunt as hell about it. There might be some hemming and hawing to get there but sometimes he says things that just make Tommy wonder if he'd ever actually learned how to say things before Evan.

"I don't really have a list, babe," he says, and then sort of hates himself for it. Deflect, distract, hey baby how about I blow you about all these big feelings inside my chest I can't articulate.

Evan, though, Evan squinches his eyes and runs a heavy hand through his hair. "I...sort of do?"

"Lay it on me."

Evan grins. "That's actually one of the things on my list."

Tommy blinks. Tries to figure out that trail of thought, but he's coming up with nothing. "Okay, can you expand on that?"

"Like --listen, you know I'm a huge fan of being the little spoon. I'd let someone put screws back in my leg just for continued little spoon privileges. But sometimes I miss being the big spoon, and in my head the idea sounded so stupid to bring up but now I'm wondering if, like, maybe I've just been denying you the joy of being the little spoon?"

Tommy thinks of Evan's hands spread big and warm across his belly, of knees tucked up behind his, warm breath on the back of his neck like when Evan stumbles up behind him in the mornings whining about coffee, and maybe he blue screens a bit because he's never actually dated someone so close to his own size, because there's always been an assumption at the outset that he wouldn't want that.

Alex had been a little too into the same dynamic he'd seen Evan stumbling through, and Colin had hated sleeping with someone's flesh touching his own. Beyond that he hadn't really dated anyone long enough to really form a preference.

Maybe Kara might have been willing, back when he'd been closeted enough to pretend it wasn't an effort to get it up when she had his dick in her mouth, but they'd been young enough that staying the night wasn't really a consideration.

"And like -- listen, I don't necessarily prescribe to gender roles as a thing in general, but a few weekends ago I spent like twenty minutes staring at a bouquet of flowers in Trader Joe's and convinced myself you wouldn't like the gesture so I didn't buy them but you have a few vases in your moms old china cabinet and the moment I remembered them I felt stupid for not buying the flowers."

There's something curling tenderly underneath Tommy's ribcage that he's not sure he's ever felt quite like this before. It's not new, exactly, but it seems to be thrumming particularly hard tonight.

Three months in, Tommy had gotten the man-flu from hell, temperatures so high he'd been grounded and sent packing to rest it off, and he'd texted Evan a jumbled mess of barely discernible things when they'd tucked him into the Uber.

Evan and Bobby had made chicken noodle soup at the station and Hen had sent Evan off with a laundry list of things he could do to help drop the fever, and Tommy had spent the duration sulking and glowering and dragging himself out of bed every time Evan had wanted to change the sheets, to keep Tommy as comfortable as he could, but when Evan had caught it four days later he hadn't hesitated to do all the same shit with gusto. Evan hadn't been particularly grateful either, because neither one of them liked being laid up when the world was out there waiting for them, but he'd at least had the grace to not be an asshole about it.

He had, though. Been grateful. A little awestruck, too, at the mere idea of someone so unafraid of just being there through all the moaning and groaning and hacking and coughing, keeping the tissues from piling up on the bedside table and switching out cold packs to the freezer so he always had one ready in case he wanted it. In the clarity of a full day without fever making his brain feel like cotton candy he'd stared down at a sleepily wheezing Evan and known he could absolutely lose his heart to this man.

"Also I don't want to toot my own horn here but I give excellent foot rubs, and I feel like there's about a million other things I've just been -- holding back from doing?"

"Because of the role thing, or because all your stupid exes told you you were needy?"

It's not a night to pull punches. Also Tommy wants to send thank you cards to every single one of them and attach them to boxes with a bark scorpion inside.

"Both," Evan says without a second of hesitation. His smile crinkles at the corners of his mouth, and Tommy is suddenly annoyed with the space between them. When he holds out his hand to tug Evan into him, Evan melts into it for the space of a moment before he pulls back. "I actually kind of desperately want to be the big spoon right now, if that's something you'd be into." Evan had definitely clocked the look on his face when he'd mentioned it, but he's keyed into the way Tommy checks in and reciprocated in kind since the start of this, so.

Tommy peels his glasses off, snags his bookmark to keep his spot in the monstrosity of the Wrangler maintenance manual he'd stopped being cagey about the fifth time Evan caught him flipping through it, and watches Evan settle comfortably into bed next to him. The problem is, Tommy actually isn't sure where to go from there, which is a ridiculous thought to have because Evan hadn't either and he'd figured it out just fine.

"How do you want me, Buckley?"

The roll of his eyes is so bitchy that Tommy has to remind himself that for all his people pleasing attributes, Evan Buckley is, at heart, a huge fucking brat. Evan tugs and twists and maneuvers his arms and Tommy sort of sinks into it, head tucked in the crook of his shoulder, draping his leg over one of Evan's when he shifts his knee pointedly, a massive, unruly breath escaping Tommy once they're all done shifting.

"You should absolutely try out the rest of your list," he murmurs into the space where Evan's shoulder meets his neck. "Although you don't need to woo me anymore, I'm actually fully wooed."

Lips against his crown, pressed tightly enough that he can feel the smile against his scalp, Evan chuckles. "You don't know how good my wooing is."

The fingers shifting up and down his arm feel somehow different, from this position, even though Evan has done it a hundred times before from the spot he likes to claim with his head right over Tommy's bleeding, three-sizes-too-big-for-him heart. It's ridiculous, and it shouldn't feel any different, but it does. He wants to be greedy with it, soak it in and then never let Evan do this again because he finally understands the appeal and he doesn't want to deprive Evan that.

"This is nicer than I expected."

Evan's soft laugh ruffles his hair, and Tommy wonders if he's dumb enough to ask Eddie how long he should wait before he can reasonably beg Evan to spend the rest of his life with him.

"Save the reviews for when I actually spoon you. It's gonna rock your world." His hand drifts up, fingers digging into the dimple of Tommy's skull.

The hum in his throat has a mind of it's own, going thin and reedy and --

Evan pauses, and Tommy can practically see the gears whirring in his mind, because this is new information.

To both of them, actually, but Tommy doesn't have time to process it because the fingers on the back of his skull spread and sink deeper, just enough pressure to be more than a glancing ruffle, and Tommy can't quite help the way he tilts his head back into it, or the way he hitches his leg to press his groin a little more firmly to the outside of Evan's thigh.

They're both too tired for it to really mean anything -- both off 48's and a fumbled round in the shower while they were already bone weary -- but Tommy wants the reminder for them both when they wake up in the morning.

He can feel his eyes drooping the longer Evan scrubs his fingers against him, and the thought pops into his head as he's drifting off. He doesn't want it to disappear into the fog, though, so he murmurs it into the soft, warm skin of Evan's neck. "I like camellia's. White ones."

Evan hums, and Tommy just knows that the moment he drops off, Evan will be reaching for his phone to google the language of flowers.

[akawrites000]

casually caring for someone (2) - a prompt list

one handing the other their jacket because they're feeling cold. "are you cold? here, take my jacket."

B's jacket looks too big on A, making them look more smaller than they are. 'they're adorable', B thinks. A looks at them a little cluelessly, struggling to wear it properly. B just sighs, fond, and helps them out.

A and B introducing each other to new experiences, making each other's lives more fulfilling. "here, I got this for you"; "do you want to go there with me?"

A knows B loves sweets so gets them sweets from their hometown and B looks like Christmas came early. "are all of these for me? you're the best!!" A just smiles fondly at them, nodding happily.

A and B go out with B's friend, who walks a little too quickly. A can't really keep up, but they try, not wanting to bring it up and make the third person feel uncomfortable. B notices, walks slower to match A's pace and gently alerts their friend - "hey C, can we walk a little slower?"

one invites the other over to an activity that they know they'll like, to cheer them up, make them smile or just to spend more time with them.

giving each other compliments that go beyond the surface/looks, choosing to compliment them about their personality. "I like the way you pour your heart into everything you do"; " i don't know what it is that you're doing, but keep doing what you're doing - just keep being yourself"; "I'm able to be myself with you and it feels nice."

one staying back after their lecture to wait for the other (and sometimes pretending that they weren't waiting for a long time, to not make the other feel guilty).

A wants to host B for a change because B does that for them all the time. They're seriously amazed and in awe of B's ability to host, that they become nervous when the time comes. "hey, relax, I came here for you, so you should just be yourself."

A and B hang out at a common friend's house, and B chooses to leave earlier than A. Before they go, they make sure to tell their friend, "please make sure A gets home early and safe."

A and B go to shop for some clothes, and A waits for B right outside the dressing room while they're trying on their clothes. When B comes out, a pleasant smile pulls on their lips to see A still waiting for them. "It's your turn now," B says, placing a gentle hand on A's shoulder, "I'll wait for you right here."

A considers themselves as a soft-spoken person, they don't really raise their voice and because of that, they often feel like they're not heard, or like they have to say something more than once to be heard. it makes them really insecure and they try to be louder, but it's still hard for them to do it most of the time. B always hears them though; reacts even when A calls out for them only once and it never fails to warm A's heart.

When A and B are part of group discussions, one always makes sure that the other is heard / has a chance to give their opinions. "Hey A, what do you think about this?"; "I think B hasn't had a chance to give their opinion yet".

(y'all really seemed to like this one a lot, so here's a part 2! I hope you'll enjoy this one too <3 thank you for all the love and support 💗)

[prentissluvr]

hold me, it's enough — sam winchester

cw : gn!reader, hurt/comfort, established relationship, descriptions of physical assault, small injuries, blood, pet names (baby, honey), barely edited, 1.6K words. requested !

prompt : "who did this to you?"

the cruelest part about tonight is the way you have to call sam to come pick you up, like you’re some child who’s gotten sick at school. it’s embarrassing and makes you feel guilty because your call woke him up. he’d gone back to the motel early to sleep after a long hunt; took the impala after dean disappeared with a girl, leaving you alone in the bar with your own car in the parking lot.

he answers after four rings, voice a little husky from sleep as he says your name questioningly into the speaker.

“hey, sam,” you respond, sighing quietly to yourself, “sorry to wake you, but i– i can’t drive myself back to the motel… any chance you could pick me up?”

you hear the rustle of sheets from the other end of the line, and you assume it’s sam sitting up. “yeah, of course,” he agrees easily, already up and looking for socks to put on. you can’t see the light frown on his face as he picks up on all of the little nuances in your voice. “you don’t sound drunk. baby, is everything alright?”

you figured he’d ask, but the expectation doesn’t remedy your hesitation to answer. “i… sort of got into a fight. hit my head real hard and i don’t think i should be driving.”

the split second after your answer is enough to show you sam’s surprise. “jesus, honey, are you okay?” he asks, worry making his voice thick.

“yeah, yeah, i’m okay. promise,” you reassure him. he takes a moment to consider your words; whether you’re lying for his sake or if you’re actually okay. your voice is clear and, though a little tired, sounds like you’re just fine. you don’t seem dizzy or out of sorts, and sam takes that as a good sign considering it was your head that you hit. so, he relaxes just a touch as he climbs into the impala. you hear the car door opening and shutting through the phone speaker.

“so, you got into a bar fight?” he asks, a touch of amusement in his voice. he’s still worried about you, but that wasn’t news he expected to hear tonight, or really any night at all. sure, you never back down from a fight, but you’re certainly not the type to start one either.

you roll your eyes a little at his tone. “sort of. the guy deserved it. i elbowed him in the guts and he shoved me. he looked utterly terrified when i stood back up and he saw the look in my eyes,” you describe, humor finding its way into your voice at the end.

sam wants to give a little laugh at your joke, tell you that he can imagine the man running away with his tail between his legs just from the look in your eye, but he’s still stuck on the fact that he shoved you. on the fact that he did something that warranted you to resort to physical violence. 

he clenches his jaw before asking, “did he try to touch you?” his voice is low as he presses down on the gas harder.

wishing your comment about the man’s scared look would have been successful in distracting sam, you sigh. sometimes, sam is too damn smart and he thinks too damn much.

“he got a little handsy, but i took care of it,” you reassure him. “it’s okay. pretty sure i scared him off so bad he left the bar.”

sam grits his teeth, trying not to react too strongly in a way he knows you won’t like. “i’m gonna beat his sorry ass.” he settles for angry, but not too much, and not even possible since the fucker’s already gone.

“yeah, i know,” you sigh into the phone.

the bar’s only ten minutes from the hotel, and sam gets there faster than that. he walks into the establishment, eyes scanning the crowded place to find your familiar silhouette seated at the bar, your left elbow resting on the counter and holding a rag and plastic bag filled with ice to your head. he rushes towards you, swiftly maneuvering between tables and moving bodies.

he says your name a few steps before he reaches you, as to not startle you, placing a worried hand on your shoulder blade when you turn to look at him. he sucks in a sharp breath when he sees your face. there’s drying blood streaking down the side of your face, and your eyes betray that you’re much more shaken by the incident than you were letting on over the phone. he curses your talent in sounding much more okay than you really are. his jaw clenches and his eyes are worried and angry.

“who did this to you?” his voice is rough, the words forced out through gritted teeth as he fights to stay gentle. you sigh at his words, able to tell immediately how angry he’s feeling.

“he’s gone now,” you say gently, secretly relishing in how protective he is of you. you instantly feel safer, much more secure with him in front of you. “i’m okay,” you say, knowing he needs to hear those words. “i promise. you know that head wounds always look worse than they are. and i wasn’t lying when i said that my glare scared him completely off.”

sam wants to tell you that he’s going to find this sorry excuse of a man, that he’s going to yell at him and hurt him and show him how horrible of a mistake he made by messing with you, but he won’t say all of that. though he’ll certainly think it. he is thinking it. but he knows that’s not what you care to hear, knows that anger is not the face you wish for him to wear.

“i believe that,” he finally settles on saying, voice softening just a little. “let’s get out of here. clean you up. there’s blood all over your face.”

you nod. another time you might quip ‘i know. it’s my face, i can feel it.’ today, you just let him place his hand on the small of your back and lead you out to the familiar black car. neither of you have to say anything to agree that you’ll come back for your own car in the morning.

sam’s silence is large, and yours is heavy. they stretch alongside each other, running out on the road with the spinning tires and escaping through the half open windows so that when sam sits you down on the edge of your shared bed, they’ve almost run out. each silence lasts until he sits next to you, first aid kit in hand, and he gently cups your face to turn it towards him. your eyes are a little shiny, and his face softens.

“i’m sorry this happened,” he whispers. “i shouldn’t have left you alone.” that’s when it hits you how guilty he’s been feeling this whole time, thinking about how nothing would’ve happened if he stayed.

“no,” you shake your head. “no, sam, this wasn’t your fault.” your voice is full of conviction as you say this, because it’s true. “you couldn’t have known this would happen. you only left because you know that i can take care of myself, and i did. i took care of it, and it’s over now. and i’m okay.”

“honey,” he chides, wishing you’d admit to him how you really feel. though he might start crying himself if he has to keep looking at you with so much blood on your face, so he takes the wet cloth he prepared in the bathroom and begins to gently wipe at your bloodied skin. the redness comes off easily, but he still hates the sight of it on the white cloth. “just because we deal with monsters and demons and horrible shit all the time doesn’t mean that creepy, pushy men are any less gross and scary than they really are. just because you can deal with it, doesn’t mean you should’ve had to.”

you purse your lips, then swallow against tears. the feeling of that man’s hand grabbing your wrist hard is still so visceral, and the way that you’d been so taken by surprise that his strength sent you sprawling to the floor still makes you feel sort of embarrassed. and sam’s soft hands and gentle reassurances are so contrasting, so good to you that it makes you a little emotional. 

unconsciously, your own hand drifts to the opposite wrist where the man grabbed you, the sleeve of your dress shirt wrinkled and skin tender from how strong his grip was. the movement catches sam’s eye, and his gaze darkens once again when he realizes how you were grabbed. you see the anger and guilt resurface on his features and you gently grab his wrist instead.

with confidence, you guide his hand to yours and hold it there, looking him right in the eye. your eyes swim with faith and sincerity as you wordlessly tell him that you trust his hands on you, on the places where you’re bruised and bloody.

“it’s okay,” you say, voice hushed and assured. “this… it’s enough, sam. it’s all i need.” just these few words tell him that you don’t care that he wasn’t there when it happened, that his care and comfort in this moment are enough to make it better. that his understanding and worry and protectiveness still mean so much. that things happen, but you’ll be okay so long as he’s there to hold you in the aftermath.

so he does just that. he cleans and dresses your wound, and holds you close on the edge of the bed until you ask to go to sleep. then he holds you under the covers, pressing gentle kisses to your forehead and whispering sweet things, until there’s nothing but soft darkness and his touch left, and you’re asleep.