#anthony swofford

[jakegyllenbaalz]

jake gyllenhaal as anthony swofford (jarhead, 2005)

[charliehoennam]

the road trip.

Pairing: Anthony Swofford x F!Reader

Summary: Tony and his girl decide to make the best of the time they have to together before the longest deployment he's ever had.

Warnings: nsfw smut, p in v, creampie, oral (both giving and receiving), unprotected sex, language, 18+ ONLY

SHARING IS CARING, SO PLEASE REBLOG

You woke up to the sound of running water coming from Tony's bathroom down the hall.

Being a natural morning bird, you weren't surprised to find his side of the bed empty, but you did wonder if he was able to get much sleep after your lovemaking.

As the warm water rained over his head, Tony closed his eyes dreading the day he'd have to say goodbye. It filled his heart with an agonizing anxiety just knowing that you'd be alone for such a long time.

Although he loved serving his country and following his father and grandfather's footsteps, he'd never thought he'd actually contemplate retiring from the service.

Dressed in only his army green t-shirt, you slid out of bed and knocked on the bathroom door, snapping him out of his dull trance and chasing away his worries. He smiled to himself knowing you were awake and told you to come in.

"Babe? Mind if I take a leak?" you smiled softly grabbing your toothbrush and his toothpaste.

"Not at all, sunshine. Knock yourself out. You wanna join me?"

"Lemme pee first then."

"Just pee in here," he smirked. "I ain't opposed to golden showers."

"Ew, Tony!" your laugh was partly muffled by your brushing as you sat on the toilet to relieve yourself. "I am not going to pee in the shower."

"Not even if it turns me on?"

"Well, I'd have to think about it. I can't just pee on command" you mumbled back.

"You'd really do that?" he asked surprised popping his head out from behind the shower curtain.

"For you, yeah."

"I was actually kidding, but I'm flattered" he grinned.

Despite last night's news, he seemed to be in a much better mood.

Tony was actually just determined to enjoy the day and make it the best you've ever had. You didn't know it yet, but it was going to be a very special day.

You chuckled in response as you flushed and walked to the sink to rinse your mouth.

"I'd do anything for ya, babe. You know that."

"Anything, huh?" he smirked watching you slide his t-shirt off from your body and toss it to the floor. "Why don't you come in here then and do something for me?

His dick couldn't help but twitch at the sight of your naked body. It was just his instinctive reaction to you, but it already had him stroking his cock to harden up.

"You are just always ready to go, aren't you?" you giggled stepping in the tub.

"I can't help myself, baby. Look at you. You're fucking beautiful."

Tony stared at you with hungry eyes as he stepped aside to make way so you could enjoy the water first; his hand never ceasing his movement below his hips as he watched the water trickle down over the curves of your breasts.

"You think so?" you smirked at his eager cock.

"I know so, sweetheart. So fucking sexy and beautiful. But what I really love is knowing you're all and only mine."

You nodded as you closed the space between your body, letting your perky nipples graze his chiseled chest.

"Yes, I am. I'm all yours, baby."

Dipping his head down to kiss you, you welcomed his tongue and let it dominate your mouth.

Feeling his cock poking your belly had your skin burning hotter than the water that now felt cold against you.

Your hand reached down to replace his and continued the firm stroking it as you knelt down.

Tony was so much taller than you that you couldn't comfortably reach his cock on your knees.

Already aware of the height differences between you, he sat on the edge of the tub on the opposite end of the shower with his back against the wall to allow you more comfort.

You thanked him with a smile that melted his heart like a flame held against wax.

He moaned when your tongue licked over the sensitive vein on the underside of his shaft. With his knees spread wide open, he let you effortlessly lull him into pleasure.

You took your time to cover every inch you knew he loved.

You sucked on each of his sensitive heavy balls, using your lips to delicately tighten around them, sending a wave of pleasure through his core to force out a breathless 'fuck' from his lips.

You teased the soft skin between his dick and balls with your tongue until he was begging you to suck him, desperate for your warmth.

Although you knew you could torture him like this, you decided to be nice today and obliged by taking his tip into your mouth. Your head bobbed up and down his deliciously thick and heavy cock as his hands gently gathered your hair to hold it back for you. It wasn't just to help you; he just loved watching your cheeks hollow out and your jaw hang open around his thick dick.

The moans from your throat vibrated down his legs into toe-curling pleasure.

"Fuck, baby. You know how to suck my cock just right" he breathed.

You chuckled muffled by his cock until you lifted your head up to press his tip against your lips to let your spit dribble past your lips, letting him watch his salty precum mix with your saliva.

"Look so fucking pretty with my cock in your mouth. You like that, baby?" he smirked praising you as he stared at your tongue twirling around his excited pink head. "You like sucking my cock?"

"Fucking love it. I love it even more when you come in my mouth. Make me swallow it all."

"Jesus, fuck..."

He gently pushed his dick back into your mouth, even more turned on than before just listening to your filthy words. He couldn't take it anymore.

He stood with your mouth still latched onto his cock and bent his knees for your comfort, urging to intensify the act.

You were so wet and warm on his cock and it drove him wild.

You loved it when he couldn't control himself anymore, surrendering himself to the pleasure.

You reminded yourself to breathe through your nose as his hips snapped ruthless against your face. As you cradled his aching balls, he shoved his cock down your throat over and over and over again, bottoming out completely despite your tearful gags.

Drool dripped from the corners of your lips and onto your chest, drawing strings of saliva and precum every time he pulled your head back before burying his dick down your throat again.

His hand tightened around your makeshift ponytail, tugging at your hair harder as his desire grew more and more with the gagged moans as he stuffed your mouth with cock.

He growled as he finally came in the back of your throat, holding your head all the way down his cock until he was sure you swallowed the large load.

Pulling away to let your breathe, he used his hand to milk the final drops against your red plushy lips and smirked darkly as he watched you lick it up, flaunting the pearly white drops against your tongue with teary eyes locked on his before swallowing it down and holding your tongue back out.

He smiled down at you and stroked your cheek with his thumb

"That's my girl. Taking cock like a champ. Think your pussy can take it well too?"

"Yes, sir" you smirked widely at the thought.

"Gimme a taste of it first, baby."

He helped you back up to your feet and knelt in front of you. Hook your leg over his shoulder, you set your foot against the tub's edge to balance yourself.

"Such a pretty little pussy all for me" he whispered against your mound before delving his tongue into your folds.

If there was one thing Tony excelled at, it was eating pussy. You tried not to think too much about it since it kinda made you jealous. But the way his tongue worked over your sensitive nub and licked your juices from your entrance was enough to silence those worries and make you melt into him.

It didn't take him very long to have your legs spasming from an orgasm, but it gave his body enough time to recover and harden again.

His shit-eating grin showed how proud he was for turning your pussy in a drenched slippery mess of juices.

Holding on your thigh as he stood, he effortlessly lifted the other with his free.

With your hand clasped around the back of his neck, he slid you up against the wall tiles with your legs spread opening over his arms. You slid a free hand down to align his dick to your soaking cunt, allowing him to slip it past your welcoming lips.

"Pussy so wet, it just slides right on in there" he smirked proudly at you.

"Like a glove" you moaned holding onto him.

As he pinned you to the wall, his hips slammed against your ruthlessly.

The bathroom was filled with panting breathy moans, echoing slaps of wet skin-against-skin as his balls smacked against your ass and the metallic rattling of his dog-tags hanging from his neck.

His lips were merciless against yours, mauling them with feverish kisses until your lips were swollen and sore.

He was hitting all the right places; the position he held you allowed him to fuck you raw and deep, tickling that specific spot in your core that made you come undone.

You begged him not to stop. You begged him to cum in your pussy and fill you up again. You reminded him how good he stretched your cunt out.

He tightened the grip on your ass as he held you firmly in place to fuck you harder.

Lowering his head, you followed his gaze to watch his beautifully angry cock brutalize your sopping pussy.

"Y-you fuck me s-so good!" you moaned loudly throwing your head back.

You could feel it building up again. The searing toe curling pleasure was beginning to ripple through from your core, forcing your fleshy walls to tighten around him.

You gasped as your body trembled from the pleasure, but he wouldn't stop. Tony refused to stop until you got what you asked for because his girl always gets what she wants.

"Tell me what you want, baby" he panted watching your breasts bounce wildly with every thrust.

"Fi-fill me up again, T-Tony. Please! Please! Please! Cum in-in my pussy, Tony!"

Hearing you beg sent him over the edge with a husky low growl that sounded as animalistic as the sex.

His hips thrusted into you once, twice, three times as your pussy milked his cock of every drop of cum he could release into your womb.

Stilling his thrusts, he held himself inside your pussy to keep his load in place while he lifted his head to capture your lips in a passionately tender kiss, letting the water rain down over his back to soothe and calm you both from your high.

The intense shower sex left your legs wobbly as you got dressed in a part of denim shorts, a cute flirty top and a pair of low top sneakers.

Tony dressed himself in his favorite jeans and white t-shirt with a pair of black sunglasses hanging from his collar. The most important item was tucked secrely in his bag, hidden away from your eyes.

He thought about leaving it in his pocket, but since you'd be going on ride at the pier, he was worried it could slip out and be lost forever.

Thanks to the late start in the shower, you opted to have breakfast on the road, stopping at the highway Denny's for a quick bite.

The drive to Santa Monica consisted of talk, music and laughter. Having bought a camcorder, you decided to turn it on to film bits and pieces of your road trip.

You'd done it many times before and Tony welcomed it, agreeing that it would be nice to document your intimate moments so he could watch them while overseas or even share it with your family if it came to having one together.

During the drive, you debated which rides and foods to try first, which radio station to listen to, if The Backstreet Boys or Christopher Cross sang 'Sailing' better after singing along to it.

There was never a dull time with Tony. He just felt like home. Like you could talk about anything and everything and still be so interested in everything he has to say.

Tony loved that you were so comfortable and down-to-earth around him instead of constantly worrying about if you looked pretty or how you sounded in sharing your thoughts. He adored that you were willing to speak your mind freely and respectfully debate him if he had an opposing opinion.

You weren't just arm candy to him or someone to flaunt off. You were his best friend; the one person in the world he felt he could be himself around.

There was a level of comfort between you that blossomed organically and effortlessly. Neither of you were afraid to be yourselves because that's what you loved the most.

As you reached the hotel, you realized why Tony hadn't told you anything about it. He wanted to surprise you and he knew you wouldn't have agreed to stay in a fancy hotel only for two days.

"Tony, you said you got us a simple hotel. This is not a simple hotel."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but I just wanted to do something nice for us. It's for a night. Might as well treat ourselves" he smirked slyly as the valet opened the car door for you.

Walking into your room, you were speechless. The room was elegantly simple, but the oceanfront from the balcony was beyond breathtaking.

You instantly gravitated to the balcony and stepped out onto it. Gasping at the view, you held the railing in awe.

Tony followed you quiet and wrapped his strong arms around your waist, enveloping your frame.

"Do you like it?"

"I love it, Tony. But you didn't need to go all out to impress me. I would've been happy with something simpler than this."

"I know, babe. But you deserve more and if I can spoil ya, I will." He smiled as he pressed a kiss to the back of your head.

"I figured we could spend the day today at the pier. Then enjoy a relaxing night in the hotel's hot tub. And relax on the beach tomorrow. What do you think?"

"I love the sound of that."

[gyllenhaalstories]

ANTHONY SWOFFORD DRABBLE

trope: "who hurt you?"

warnings: army/military, sexual harassment, violence, blood. no smut. 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 550

photo credit: iheartjake / divider credits: @/firefly-graphics

notes: thank you to @sizzlingcloudmentality for the spin the wheel activity and for encouraging me to post my results as actual little drabbles. 🥰 thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

I like thinking you guys are strangers, he's seen you around a few times but he doesn't even know your name. You probably work on the base and you're used to getting a flock of starving seagulls whenever you walk around or wait for your food at the cafeteria. And by seagulls, I mean other soldiers and privates and basically all these guys with pent up testosterone just desperate for a glimpse of cleavage. I think it's obvious where I'm going with this.

A party, could be Christmas or New Year who cares. A party happens and everything goes awry. You're not enjoying yourself at all and you're trying to leave but there's this one very insisting guy who just doesn't get the memo. You keep telling him to get away from you, to shut up, to leave you alone or to let you leave at all but he is not budging. The more you tell him to go fuck himself the more riled up and aggressive he's getting. Maybe you insulted him, spat on his face, threw your glass at him, whatever you tried ended up in him grabbing your arm and roughing you up to force himself on you. You manage to run out of the tent where the party is happening and Swoff sees that. He sees that and it makes his blood boil. He can't catch you before you leave, but he makes a plan to find you again.

The next day, he waits for you. You're scared at first but he greets you with: "Who hurt you?". The bruising grip of the drunk guy at the party is showing on your skin and Anthony doesn't want it to get worse. A rough grip is only the beginning.

He's heard about the way the guys talk. They're ruthless. They speak of one another's wives and girlfriends like they're objects they want to pass around. They speak of the women who work on base in such ways that Swoff can't even comprehend how it's so accepted and how people just laugh along. Of course he has made a bunch of salacious jokes before, but he still knows there is a line that should not be crossed.

He insists, he asks you to show him who hurt you. At the second your eyes are done scanning the room and spotting the guy, he stalks him like a hawk until he pulls him outside and makes him regret he even laid eyes on you. Anthony could easily kill him, he won't, but they've all been trained to. Isn't that the goal? Isn't that why he works so hard to climb the ladder being corporal? To serve and to protect? Or was it to destroy and to kill? He scoffs in the guy's face at the antithesis when he punches his nose one last time. He leaves him scattered in his own blood. Lesson learned, or so Swoff hopes for the best.

Anthony finds you again to tell you that the asshole won't hurt you anymore. You're unsure of what he means until your eyes land on his bloody knuckles and the way his biceps have swollen from the effort. Before Anthony walks away, you finally ask for his name. You did not even know the name of the man who defended you.

[jennaajoseph]

❛ Jake Gyllenhaal Icons ❜

ANTHONY SWOFFORD (JARHEAD 2005) ICONS ⸻ ﹙ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘﹚

── ☆

── ﹙౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ CREDITS.﹚. ☆

images — by me.

divider — @/anitalenia.

── ﹙౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ MASTERLIST&INFO.﹚. ☆

── ☆

[wigglywogglrr]

unpopular opinion maybe very popular but bald jake was his best era

[spiderling-pete]

A new little roleplay-moodbard from me and my hubby Anthony x Nico - The medic and the sniper ♥

[shadow-draws-gta]

more Jarhead incorrect quotes because I am still consumed by this movie (in a good way) :)

[caffeineplusmypen]

Christmas in July! Oh yeah...

🎅🎄🎁 HAPPY HOLIDAYS EVERYONE!! 🎅🎄🎁

[famousborntoday]

Anthony Swofford is an American writer and former U.S. Marine, best known for his 2003 book Jarhead, based heavily on his accounts of various situations encount...

Link: Anthony Swofford

[theartofreadingbyroxxie]

10 Buchtitel beginnend mit "J" | Top Ten Thursday №34

Buchtitel beginnend mit "J" sind an diesem Donnerstag gefragt. #TopTenThursday

[caffeineplusmypen]

Gorgeous either way!

#Jarhead

[charliehoennam]

The Letter

Summary: Tony gets the order to deploy well into the relationship with the girls of his dreams and fears of history repeating begin to bubble.

Pairing: Tony Swofford x F!reader

Warnings: a lil smut towards the end (NO MINORS, PLEASE) and unprotected sex in established relationship (wrap yalls willies)

SHARING IS CARING, SO REBLOG!

One early Friday morning, Tony rolled out of bed. He splashed some water on his face, slid into his basketball shorts and sneakers. He then headed to the kitchen to make his usual protein shake.

Just another regular day before heading into work.

Once he was set for his morning jog, he set his MP3 player in its holster and latched it onto his arm, letting the music flow from the earbuds to energize his body.

Tony's neighborhood wasn’t anything too fancy. Fairfield was definitely a nice town to live in with it's growing economy and military influence.

Although he'd grown up in the nice part of the suburbs, he now lived in a less nicer part of town due to military housing. There were definitely worse parts of Fairfield to end up in, so he couldn't complain about the neighborhood. Despite being a little far from town, there wasn't really much to complain about...except some neighbors.

Early morning was his favorite time of day. The air was cool and crisp before the California could fully set out and melt the town away. What he really enjoyed the most was the peaceful calm before the daily whirlwind of routine and people.

Tony wasn’t much of a fitness freak. The Military did help him realize the importance of staying in shape, having strong stamina - something that came in handy when you slept over each other's place - and staying hydrated.

He jogged along the sidewalk, weaving through his neighborhood and panting as he controlled his breathing until his walking break where he would hum out the song he was listening to.

The best thing about this time was that there were very few people who were also up and about.

It allowed him to avoid the flirtatious single (and not so single) women. He didn’t give them much time of day, but he always found it challenging to simply ignore them.

He had been raised by traditional parents and taught to always respect women, no matter what. However, being a heavily influence military town, there were the usual lonely mothers and wives seeking company.

Tony loved you more than anything, so he wouldn't stand for it.

He had already been cheated on and getting over his cheating ex was one of the hardest things he'd gone through, given that it happened while he was on deployment. He couldn't imagine causing that pain onto you or to a fellow marine.

So, as soon as the flirting would start coming from the lonely neighbors that greeted him in questionable silky robes or lacy nightgowns, he’d either excuse himself to extract him from the situation as quickly as possible or avoid stopping, only responding with a nod of his head.

Having you as his girlfriend helped to get away. Sometimes, at least. The more vulgar women brushed it off nothing that could stop them and offered to keep the secret, but Tony wasn’t interested or attracted to anyone else but you.

And, in the cases where the lonely women would try to convince him to come inside for some coffee, he'd simply remind them that he had a girlfriend to pick up to take to work.

You didn't need the ride, but it was a subtle reminder that he was off limits.

Ignoring them that morning was only much easier since his mind wouldn't stop thinking about the following day when he would be taking you to the Santa Monica Pier.

He couldn’t believe you when you’d said you had never been there yet. Although a California native himself, the Santa Monica Pier was known worldwide. It had also been one of his favorite places growing up.

He was more excited to see you that night. He’d invited you to come over to his place to spend the night so you could leave early in the morning for your five-hour road trip.

He wanted to surprise you with freshly made pasta although he knew he was in over his head, but you were worth all the effort.

He took notice that the mailman was already making his rounds around the neighborhood. So, when he came up his street and reached his humble abode, he made a quick stop to check his mailbox.

A couple bills, invitation to magazine subscriptions; nothing out of the ordinary. Until he found an envelope that froze him in place. He didn’t have to open it to know its content, but he did so anyways with the hope that it could be another matter.

His heart sank in his chest.

“Ordered to active duty” he read to himself.

Taking a deep breath to calm his anxiety, he slowly walked back into his house. He read the letter once more, praying the words had magically rearranged themselves to prove he’d misunderstood.

Though it hadn’t been his first time during your relationship that he'd been deployed and you both had been expecting it, this deployment  was different.

He hadn’t expected it to be so long. Both you and him were used to short tours. This time, his stay overseas would be longer than that.

All he could think about was you; about having to leave you for all that time. Although he knew that you loved him, he was terrified to think about what the loneliness could do.

There was no comparison between you and his ex. But he couldn’t stop thinking about everything that had happened between him and his ex; about how she started seeing someone else while Tony was out on his first deployment. Or how she dumped him through a letter while they were miles apart.

You were nothing like her and he tried to remind himself of that. He’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t afraid of history repeating itself.

Despite the growing apprehension within him, he set the letter – along with the other mail – in a cabinet drawer.

‘Out of sight, out of mind’ he thought to himself.

Going about his day, he tried his best to keep the recent news as far as he could from his mind. In spite of his best efforts, he found himself coming back to that damned letter.

On his way from the grocery store, his car rolled to a stop at a red light. Taking notice of a white sign on the side of the street for a jewelry store, he read the words composed of black letters in his rearview mirror.

Every kiss begins with Kay.

It was a little insane when he thought about it. You’d only been dating for a few months.

It would've been a long time for some people, but in this situation, you had barely spent even half of those months together with Tony's tours.

The little time you did have together was precious.

You'd both already talked about your pasts. Tony even expressed how he felt that he had dived into his relationship with Kristina too early.

Though it wasn't any hint towards you, you felt that a subliminal reasoning was behind his sharing it, albeit unknowingly to Tony.

To him, he was sharing his experience. To you, he subconsciously expressing his preference to take his time with what you two had going on. And you were okay with that, given your own experiences.

Every moment with each other was like an escape from the world around you. Every overseas phone call to him made him forget the ocean of sand that surrounded him. Or the highly testosterone-intoxicated base of soldiers he had to live with.

You were his getaway from all his troubles and you felt the same about him.

Neither of you wanted to ruin it with labels, especially since the time you had spent together was still so little. So, you agreed to roll with the punches and enjoy each other while you could, whatever way you could.

Getting married at this point would definitely be premature. However, he wasn’t simply thinking about wedding bells. It was about showing you his commitment.

Forced out of his trance by the honk of the impatient driver behind him, he made a U-turn and turned into the shopping plaza parking lot.

Tony felt a bit out of his element once he walked through the doors. The jewelry store was white – with bright lights and sleek black details and countertops.

He looked around the engagement rings in the glass display cases. His palms were beginning to sweat. It was a leap of faith, but he needed to show how much you meant to him before he left.

He wasn’t expecting you to run off and get hitched at the nearest chapel. The ring wasn’t only a promise of marriage. It was a reason for him to survive out there. Something to comfort you during his absence and subtly prove to others that you belonged to him.

He finally had someone amazing in his life. The break-up with Kristina was painful. They always were naturally, but the way it had been done was what hurt Tony the most.

Discarded. Thrown away after the thrill of her military-man kink had worn off.

He had nothing against 'war bunnies', as he and his comrades called them. As long as they didn’t get his hopes up of still being there when he came home after months of being away. The uniform may look attractive, but the reality of being a military girlfriend or wife wasn’t for everyone.

He understood it wasn’t for Kristina and he made peace with that. But would it happen again? Could you wait for him?

He stood staring at all the different designs and wondered why there were so many.

He believed he had a pretty good idea of what you’d like. Luckily, his savings were quite full to guarantee you a nice ring. But with so many options, he became more and more confused.

It must have been visible when the sales attendant approached from behind the counter and flashed him a smile.

Tony was thankful she had all the patience in the world. He spoke about you with sparkling eyes and profound admiration. It was obvious to her that he was in love and she was committed to finding the best ring within his budget.

He was quite proud of the ring he’d bought for you. It came with a hefty price, but he didn’t care about it. Now, he had to wait for the perfect opportunity to propose and pray that you’d agree.

Once his ring was successfully purchased, he walked back to the car and climbed inside. He stared at the black velvet box in his hands and opened it to find the diamond shining against the black silk inner lining of the box. He deeply felt like he was doing the right thing.

After a moment, he closed the box and tucked it into his pocket before driving home.

You arrived just after work with a plastic bag of wine and dessert, a small travel suitcase of spare clothes, shoes and other personal items.

“Hey, honey. I’m here,” you smiled using the copy of his key to walk into his house.

“In the kitchen, babe!”

Closing the door behind you, you walked inside and set your suitcase in the hallway by the wall. As you reached the kitchen, you found Tony stirring a pot of sauce with a dish towel hung over his shoulder.

Although you were always elated whenever you saw him, watching him cook was quite a heart-warming show. The attention to detail, the suave confidence in his movements were just a couple of characteristics of the touching dedication to one of his few favorite therapeutic pastimes.

However, he was a bit different today.

You could hear him wincing and cursing under his breath before you even walked into the kitchen.

As you rounded inside, he clumsily burned his arm taking out a tray of baked vegetables from the oven. The chicken he’d been grilling on the stove was starting to burn despite his attempt to be as quick as he can be turn it off.

The lack of the usual confidence he presented in the kitchen was very obvious. Something was off about him.

“Hey, you need a hand?”

“Uh, could you flip the chicken over there while I drain the pasta?”

“Of course,” you nodded as you quickly made your way to the stove.

“Sorry dinner’s a bit late. I tried to make it to be ready before you arrived, but I caught got up in some shit,” he sighed annoyed.

“It’s fine, babe. Really. I had a big lunch anyways, but just the smell here is making my mouth water.”

A failed attempted to cheer him up. He didn’t even crack a smile.

“Got us some wine" you continued. "You want a glass?”

“Yeah, I’d love one. I could use a drink,” Tony agreed. He seemed stressed.

“It’s that good wine that we had with Juan and Maria, remember?”

He loved it so much when you’d tasted it at the last double date you went on a couple days ago. You’d taken a picture of the label to buy a bottle for yourselves. Hopefully, that would’ve cheered him up.

“Yeah, I remember.”

You moved the bag you’d set on the counter and pulled out the dessert to set it in the fridge quietly. Then you walked back to pull out wine bottle from the paper bag. He seemed so bothered that you couldn’t help but ask.

“Should I go home, babe? You wanna be alone tonight?” you asked lowly, looking up at him with worried doe eyes.

He took a deep breath in, realizing how he’d be since you arrived.

“No, babe. No. I’m sorry. I just got a lot on my mind.”

He stopped and turned off everything to stand in front of you, holding your hips to give you the attention you deserved.

“I missed you” he says lowly, resting his forehead against yours.

“I missed you… You wanna talk about what’s bothering ya?”

“Nah, not right now. I wanna enjoy tonight with you.”

He smiled, but you could tell it wasn’t entirely sincere. He didn’t want to talk about it, so you decided to go along .

“Let’s open this up, huh?”

He reached behind you to grab the bottle, redirecting the conversation to change the subject.

“Mind getting some glasses for us, babe?”

“Not at all.”

You grabbed the delicate wine glasses and set them beside Tony as he opened up the bottle.

The food wasn’t as good as he usually made it. The sauce lacked a little salt, the chicken was a bit overcooked and the vegetables were slightly overseasoned.

When he asked you how it was though, you smiled and said it was perfect. The last thing he needed was to worry about that too.

Although he was well aware of how the dish tasted, he smiled at your attempt to cheer him up.

After dinner, you sat on the couch talking about your day as you enjoyed the chocolate dessert you’d picked up. He nodded and hummed in agreement, but it was clear he wasn’t really paying much attention.

His mind just seemed somewhere else.

“Alright. Can we please talk about what’s bothering you?” you confessed with pleading eyes that he couldn't resist.He knew he’d have to say it sooner or later.

It couldn’t have been good because he couldn’t even look at you.

“I got a deployment letter today.”

You frowned. It wasn’t his first deployment since you’d gotten together. You couldn’t understand why it was bothering him so much. So, you waited to let him go on.

“It’s longer this time. 3 months longer… Pay will be good though.”

“O-oh, wow... That's longer than usual, huh?”

Your heart sunk. Now everything made sense. The same dread that filled him seeped into the air and infected you too.

Silence hung over the living room as Tony watched you, fearing the reaction he’d expected.

“When do you have to leave?”

“Next week…”

“Then we’ll make the most of this week.”

He could hear the sadness in your voice despite your best attempt to be strong for him and accepting of the situation.

The thought of being apart for so long was unbearable for the both of you. A lot could happen in that time.

There was a bittersweet cloud that hung over that night.

You held each other on his bed and mindlessly watched TV after dessert. Neither of you were really too focused on the movie. You were too busy remembering each other’s warmth, memorizing heart beats and scents that you’d loved so much.

Tears were quietly shed. You could hear his sniffling and he could feel the wet spot on his chest from your eyes. Neither of you wanted to talk about it. It was inevitable and foreseen, but it still made your heart sink low.

You looked up at him and he quickly rubbed the tears away from his eyes. Your hand reached for his cheek and wiped a missed tear drop away with your thumb.

“Everything is gonna be alright. I promise.”

You reassured him with a kiss.

He didn’t want to ever let you go. He gently rolled you over to place himself over you. He deepened the kiss, using his tongue to ask you for entrance to which you allowed. Your parted legs invited him closer as they clung to his hips.

Feeling the cold metal of his military dog-tags dangling on your chest, you carefully pulled them back over his shoulder to rest against his back. Nothing would come between you, not even the military.

The sex was different that night. Tony was different that night.

The thought of being away from you was driving him wild. He wanted to consume you in the slowest way possible so he could savor every second. Every kiss. Every touch. Every moan.

His kiss was slow and passionate. He relished in the faint winey taste of your mouth. Your hands clung on his broad muscular back, roaming up and down to his ass with a firm squeeze when you pulled his hips down to grind against yours.

The sweet moan that escaped your lips when you felt his hardened cock made it twitch against your dampening panties.

He pulled back, standing on his knees, and gazed down at you. His eyes locked on yours as his large hands slowly crept up under the t-shirt you’d borrowed.

“I love you,” he whispered hooking his fingers into your panties.

“I love you so much,” he repeated as he slid them down your legs and off your feet, one at a time.

He admired the glow of the TV light against your skin as he pushed his boxers off.

“I love you too, Tony.” So much that you could cry right there and then.

The thought of him not coming home tormented you from the back of your mind. He had to make you forget about that possibility. He had to forget it for himself.

His kisses down your neck were soft and gentle, in much contrast to the fireworks exploding within you. He slid the shirt up to expose your breasts to himself. The mere sight of such a vulnerable you made his cock jerk harder.

He took your breasts into his hands and delicately suckled on them. He took his time, kneading them each tenderly as he sucked and twirled his tongue around your hard nipples.

Your hands cradled the back of his fuzzy head. Your back arched into him and your legs spread wider. Your pussy fluttered when his dick grazed your folds.

“God, Tony. I fucking love you so much,” you moaned.

Now that it was finally said, he wanted to hear you say it every single minute to remind himself that your heart was his now.

With butterfly kisses trailing down your belly and all around your mound, you chuckled as he teased you and moved down to kiss your inner thighs.

“Gotta kiss you all over first, sweetheart. So you can feel how much I love ya” he smirked widely.

For such grief-stricken news, he felt happy to hear you laugh again.

You laughed as he lifted your legs to kiss the soles of your feet.

“Tony, that tickles!”

“Sorry, babe. How about here huh?” he smiled placing kisses on each of your ankles.

“Tickles a little still.”

He grinned staring down at you, basking in your loving smile and adorable laugh. He continued his trail down your legs and reached the sides of your knees.

“How about on your sexy knees huh?”

“Sexy knees?” you chortled.

“Every inch of you is sexy to me. Even your toe hair.”

“I do not have toe hair!” you laughed as your cheeks warmed instantly.

“It’s okay, baby. I got hairy feet too,” he joked with a laugh.

“You got hobbit feet.”

You watched as he slowly trailed down the inside of your supple thighs.

“Yeah, and you love them.”

“Damn right I do. Every inch of you.”

“You know what I love?” he asked lying down on his front as he gazed up at you. “This right here.”

He licked a strip up between your pussy lips with the tip of his tongue. You moaned and bit your lower lip, closing your eyes for a moment to relish in the warmth of his mouth.

Your hips rolled forward, welcoming his mouth while Tony slid your legs over his shoulder. Relishing in your taste, his hands moved up your torso.

One of them kneaded your breast and delicately rolled your nipple between his fingertips. The other caressed your beautiful belly, grazing up and down to soothe your growing pleasure.

Tony moaned lowly as his eyes closed. He adored burying his face between your legs. His tongue slithered up and down through your soaked folds. His cheeks hollowed as he sucked on your most sensitive area.

“Oh, right there,” you gasped.

The sensation of his rough calloused hands roaming over your body and his mouth working on your pussy had you writhing. You slowly grinded your hips against his mouth, skin hot to the touch.

“Tony, please. I need you,” you pleaded, rubbing his fuzzy head with your open hand.

Tony was as hard as a rock. His cock was throbbing against the mattress, aching to be buried in the sweet cunt he’d just devoured.

You felt like you were floating the clouds.

“I got you, baby.”

Tony slowly moved up and kissed you, letting you taste yourself on his lips. You moaned as you felt him glide his cock between the plush soaking lips of your pussy.

Breaking the kiss for a moment, he reached for the lube in his nightstand drawer and looked down at his cock to guide it into your entrance. He only held himself there, but he didn’t push in just yet, leaving you to clench around nothing as he rubbed his dick with a bit of lube.

He looked back up at you and pushed in slowly, watching your face react to the delicious stretch of his thick intrusion. The pinching of your eyebrows, your eyes shut and mouth hanging open in an O, your body curving and arching at the pleasure.

You looked so beautiful to him. He wanted to see every detail, every reaction to etch the moment into his memory.

While his hips moved slowly in and out of you, he kissed every spot over the skin on your neck and shoulders. His fingers intertwined with yours as he held a hand above your head under the pillow.

He dragged his cock out leisurely and pushed back in with the same unhurried pace until you were entirely comfortable to the stretch and able to take him deeper and deeper.

His hips gave a thrust to bottom himself out, his balls pressed to your perineum. Your pussy was aching for more friction and force. He knew this well; your growing slickness made it more than evident.

The throbbing of his cock and the squeezing of his hand around yours told you he craved the same.

Leaning down to kiss you, he held his cock deep inside you.

“I love you,” he whispered resting his forehead against yours for a moment.

“I love you too, Tony.”

[callsignvenomcod]

a soft life

Prompt: Retired! Simon Riley. A slow life in a Manchester farm.

warning: mentions of PTSD, mentions of cartel related violence, mentions of violence, MDNI.

PS: Opening line is from the book "Jarhead" (2001) by Anthony Swofford.

______________________________________________________________

A story.

A man fires a rifle for many years, and he goes to war. And afterwards he returns the rifle in at the armory, and he believes he's finished with the rifle. But no matter what else he might do with his hands, love a woman, build a house, change his son's diaper; his hands remember the rifle.

Sometimes he could still hear the bullets.

For a long time, it was hard to convince himself he deserved to grow old. It might have been a given fact to some other people but not for those in the military, not for Ghost, at least; not after Tommy and Beth, or Las Almas or Johnny. It took him a lot of time to be grateful to be almost 40. For several reasons, he never saw himself living past 20.

And now he was opening up the crates of the chickens he kept in his very own farm, a piece of land he actually owned, without a mask on, very far away from the bullet sounds and a barrack, from the mud and the camo, away from everything and everyone, not sound in the horizon but the chickens and Riley, the border collie dog he got, barking at a three somewhere in the distance.

He retired the summer he turned 40, there was a ceremony and everything, with Laswell and Price and he got more chest candy that would eventually end up in a wooden chest, never to be seen again, under the bed. There wasn't a reason, he just had to. He was in his prime, physically, but his mind was made of glass lately, everything rubbed him the wrong way, couldn't even train recruits without snapping too hard at them, making them quit, yell at them too much, scare them too much, beat them up to a pulp too much.

Every man in the military had a story. A life before, a life after. And in the middle, sand, or mud, or just camo. A war that last years, a mission that lasts hours. Silence and nosie.

He, like other recruits, like other Sergeants, Lieutenants, Colonels, had shadows over them. It took months for him to stop looking over his shoulder while doing the big shop on a sunday, started going to those overnight groceries store to shop alone instead. The butcher's reminded him both of his adolescence and the carnage he had caused, flinched whenever he saw a mohawk kid walking down the street, looked twice sometimes only to find a stranger.

Sometimes he could still hear the bullets, aye.

He turned in his paperwork and retired silently with lots of medals under his name, lots of dead men and probably women under his knife, missing friends, missing nerves and too scarred to be a model now. Ha.

Oh, and Y/N's wanted to get away at some point anyway.

Y/N. The last drink he never should have had, the cut that made him hide his face, and the party that made him feel his age. Pulp's words, not his. All it took was a few nights shopping at the Tesco she was working in as a cashier, late night shift, for them to become acquainted.

A year of mutual pinning, a single night in which Y/N placed the bourbon bottle and the batteries inside of the paper bag and looked up at Simon, change in hand (because he paid in cash always, no traces behind) and smiled at him. COVID had made it easier to transition from the skull balaclava to a medical mask and then to a bare face, so Simon looked at her behind the black medical mask and stared at her while she opened her mouth.

-Why do bees have sticky hair?

Simon blinked, looking down at her. -Pardon?

No line behind him. It was the first time the cashier talked to him other than "Goodnight" and "Drive safe", or "It will be 5.66, please". There was a faraway sound of some sort of 80's American pop music, something to pass time by. Simon had noticed her since the first time he came into this very same Tesco a few months ago, had noticed how she sang along whatever music was on, how her Tesco blue uniform looked too big on her, making her look insanely small and slinky. He noticed how she was always almost without a medical mask and whenever she used it, it was laced around her chin; he noticed short, clean nails, and a heart necklace over her chest, a pair of dazzling dove eyes, full hips, a belly.

He really noticed the full hips.

The girl fucking giggled and repeated. She must had a bit of Irish in her judging by the sound of her accent. Simon felt as awkward as a teenage boy in front of any girl ever -Why do bees have sticky hair?

The man shook his head, still confused, a quid in his hand.

-Because they use a honeycomb.

Ah, a woman after his own heart. Such a lame joke.

He snorted out a laugh.

It simply slipped and he memorized the name tag before grabbing his shopping bag and shaking his head, hearing her giggle behind him as he exited the store, and he came back two days later after convincing himself he needed two jars of red bean jam instead of the usual one.

Sometimes he could still hear the bullets.

And now she sleeps here; and Simon had stared at her sleeping form wondering how much time it would take for her to start hating his way of loving, of being, how many times he would go silent on the phone, a bad texter, a worst caller, how he hated crowded places and loud noises and most of their dates happened in her flat, when her roommate was out, staring silently at a film on TV, her friends thinking she's getting her brains fucked out by an experienced, older, lust thirst Vet when in reality, Ghost was gathering up the courage to wrap his arm around her shoulders.

And now she sleeps here.

In the crook of his neck, his thigh over his hip, wild hair all over the bed, sometimes inside his mouth because he stopped using a mask a while ago.

In the mornings, tangled in their bed, warm sheets, the soft breeze of Riley sleeping under the bed, her sweet sweat and vanilla scented skin under his, it took Simon a few seconds to realize he was sleeping in the company of someone; in the arms of a woman and in his own bed, a king size bed with soft white sheets that were washed and changed every 5 days, not a twin bed in a barrack, that his years of active service were over, not forgotten, as if, but that he could allow himself to become whatever he might end up becoming if the 141 didn't happened.

-Come here, boy. Come here, Riley. Yeah, yeah...- said Simon scrunching down to caress right behind Riley's ear, the dog sticking out his long tongue and barking of joy mixed with the hyper sense of his breed, the soldier being careful not to break the eggs he held in a small basket. Simon had found him a puppy a few months ago, seemed like years really, in a litter box with 6 of his brothers and sisters, a beat-up cardboard sign reading "For adoption." And Simon picked up the only one with a lazy ear. He knew deep down that Y/N would appreciate that and simply put him in the passenger seat of the black Bronco truck he owned and drove all the way back home. -You're up early, eh? You having breakkie with us?

He had fallen into a comfortable routine now. He would wake up, crawl over Y/N's sleeping figure, careful not to wake her with the crack of dawn, 5AM with the BBC on his headphones, a 6'2 shadow jogging through the hills of the outskirts of Manchester, for an hour only the dark of the road, the eventual baby blue of the sky, the warmth of the sun. Sometimes Riley was up for it, sometimes he stood behind cuddled up in their room. And upon his return he would work out in their driveway for another hour, noticing the growing presence of what the media now called a "Dad Bod" (Y/N's words, not him) and eventually hearing soft barefoot steps coming from the room.

There was tea for two before he had to head out, get some tasks done, and a soft kiss hanging from Y/NS plush lips, and he would always try to push it, try his luck. He would smile against it, whispering "Good morning..." with a lazy voice, hands on Y/N's full hips, kneading them, in need of them, and Simon would press up with hard on against her stomach, while deepening the kiss.

It never failed to make her wet. It never failed to make her forget the kettle on the fire for a minute and simply give into his kiss, his embrace; him, overall. Simon would pick her up, easily, laid her on the counter, and her robe would open for him, with or without his help, and she was always so wet for him, so ready to do it.

-Simon...- she will say. - Breakfast...

And he wasted no time into twisting her words, dropping to his knees as if he was in the presence of a saint, of a virgin, of the end of the world, staring at her glistening cunt first thing in the morning, looking up with the adoration she deserved; she would gulp and argue it was not what she meant but she would recoil and whimper when Simon stuck his tongue inside his cunt anyway, overlapping her folds, blissfully eating her out before the sun was completely out.

The dog kept barking all the way down to the house, past the barn and the driveway, the small stable with the one horse they had, the pen he was building to eventually own sheep, and Simon felt the cold breeze of the early morning seeping through his black knit sweater and his jean jacket, as he walked all the way across the grass fields and into his porch, the swinging chair Y/N liked to read in, in a need of a reparation.

-Right...- he whispered to himself seeing the hammer he left outside to remind himself to fix the damn chair, bloody hell. Riley's nose peeked through the front door, opening it with ease and technique allowing themselves in, and the cold of the outside world was quickly gone.

Simon stepped into a cozy home, with a color palette he would have never picked, all warm yellows and oranges, pinks and whites, and soft cushions, warm blankets, a picknick turntable in the coffee table; and music, soft music he didn't recognize coming from it, a spinning record on it with yellow and pink lyrics, a girl signing about a loved one, and another voice, a present one, horribly trying to sing along.

He snorted out a laugh when Riley started barking and the voice was interrupted abruptly.

-Simon?...- Radio silence. -Babe?

Oh, the sound of his name in her mouth.

He crossed his living room, stepping into the kitchen, holding four eggs in a small bowl, one from each hen they owned, and he stood in the door frame, just a tad taller than him, admiring the view. He had endured white missions in the Russian winter, literal months of the gruesome torture and gory tasks and they all suddenly made sense because there was a girl.

Ah, there was a girl, alright.

Today was English breakfast. No peas for him, no sausages for her. It was stereotypical but easy to make and no one was around to judge them anyway. Next house was a few miles down the road, and even the road was far away, the town was a 30-minute ride. It was their little bit of heaven. The man stepped in, handing her the basket like every other day and kissed her temple, as she grilled some tomatoes slice ups leaning back against him. His hands would find her hips again and she would yawn with intimacy, hair still a mess, thighs still sticky. -Teas on the table, love. It's gone get cold.

-Ah, it's alright...- he said, hugging her tightly, as she kept leaning on him. -Slow morning today, eh...

She had been there and stuck around whenever the PTSD started acting up. She was the one that loved him when he started going fucking mental; and stuck around when she found her burning up SAS gear, a lost look in his eyes as he did so. He would throw in a Ghost mask and watch it burn for a moment, before murmuring a shocked sob and reaching out into the flames to retrieve it. She stuck around while he drank too much bourbon sitting on the porch, skull mask on, his dogs' tags held so tightly his knuckles will go white with force. Y/N even stuck around when the nightmares came, and she would wake up to Ghost whimpering on his side of the bed, breaking a cold sweat, his jaw tight and her brows furrowed, screaming out "Johnny! Johnny!" before waking up in tears, in raged hot tears down his cheeks, short of breath, his head a full of bullet noises and sirens wailings, pictures of his team and the blood and the grease paint. A mess. A shaking shadow.

Every October 11, she will make sure to hold him a little tighter, kiss him a little softer, love him, if it was possible, a little louder.

And she was here now, cooking breakfast, no peas for him; now he was living a soft life, with tea every morning, and a dog named Riley, with soft hands that wondered around his chest whenever he thought about Soap too much, about Gaz and that helo. But she was here now, and she had no sausages today, as they sat down on their small chair in their small kitchen in their small farm. He was living a soft life, and he didn't think of himself as worthy of it, but he must have been done something good to have her cooking breakfast and sleeping in their bed and caressing their dog under the table.

Tomorrow, Ghost would ask her to come out to the porch to find her reading swing fixed and a wedding ring.

She's going to say yes.

He didn't heard the bullets anymore.

_____________________________________________________________

Hello! Venom here.

Thank you so much to anyone that's been liking my story.

Happy 2024!

[missuswalker]

jake gyllenhaal masterlist !

jake gyllenhaal 📼

coming soon…

donnie darko 🐇 *

first girl (smut)

pilot kelson 🍃 *

hot day (smut)

david loki 🔦

coming soon…

elwood dalton 🔗

coming soon…

billy hope 🥊

coming soon…

lou bloom 🎥

coming soon…

sam hall 🌊

coming soon…

anthony swofford 🍾 *

coming soon…

* my favorites

[gyllenhaalstories]

this is so so fun! and i so so cheated! but it's so so okay because the cheat with the spinning rule was about AND for me (confirmed). all is well! but all was not well when i started spinning again and again until i had way too many options. so... i did 5 pairings instead of 3!!! yay me.

thank you for this amazing idea!!! it's so fun to read people's results and i loved writing about these prompts but also it was quite the challenge to write about characters i have never really considered writing for.

warnings: sexual harassment, army, violence, intoxication/drugging, monster fucking cough cough, funerals & death.

Anthony Swofford 💖 "Who hurt you?"

I like thinking you guys are strangers, he's seen you around a few times but he doesn't even know your name. You probably work on the base and you're used to getting a flock of starving seagulls whenever you walk around or wait for your food at the cafeteria. And by seagulls, I mean other soldiers and privates and basically all these guys with pent up testosterone just desperate for a glimpse of cleavage. I think it's obvious where I'm going with this.

A party, could be Christmas or New Year who cares. A party happens and everything goes awry. You're not enjoying yourself at all and you're trying to leave but there's this one very insisting guy who just doesn't get the memo. You keep telling him to get away from you, to shut up, to leave you alone or to let you leave at all but he is not budging. The more you tell him to go fuck himself the more riled up and aggressive he's getting. Maybe you insulted him, spat on his face, threw your glass at him, whatever you tried ended up in him grabbing your arm and roughing you up to force himself on you. You manage to run out of the tent where the party is happening and Swoff sees that. He sees that and it makes his blood boil.

The next day, he waits for you. You're scared at first but he greets you with: "Who hurt you?". The bruising grip of the drunk guy at the party is showing on your skin and Anthony doesn't want it to get worse. A rough grip is only the beginning. At the second your eyes are done scanning the room and spotting the guy, he stalks him like a hawk until he pulls him outside and makes him regret he even laid eyes on you. He finds you again to tell you that the asshole won't hurt you anymore. Before you walk away, you finally ask for his name.

David Jordan 💖 Sex Pollen

Something something he made it home safe from space (and not gangbanged by Calvin the alien). He got to keep a few things from his trip in space, mainly his yo-yo but also... a very limited amount of a foreign substance that Doctor Derry extracted from Calvin. He keeps it in a small bag, he rarely ever reaches out for it except on special occasions. What does it do, you may ask? Not much unless you ingest it. The particules in the air would just make you a bit giddy at best, lightheaded at worst. The effects are more intense in space, he remembered that day when the entire team felt like they were high as Derry explained his discovery. On Earth, they're mainly manageable unless you ingest a considerate amount of it. A wet fingertip dipped into the powder and brushed under the tongue would take you on a wild ride.

One day you ingest it for whatever reason, possibly some experimental treatment very few people have heard of. David retired from active missions in space but he's probably still involved in research to help his fellow astronauts recover from their trip in the void. And through the branches, rumour has it he's trying to reproduce this alien substance to use its benefits to help the astronauts feel better faster after a long mission. It's basically a mood booster of some sort, at least that's what they're trying to develop in the labs. David has the good stuff, the strong stuff, and eventually you meet with him and, hoping to help you with your issues, he offers you to try it. He is not aware of the extent of its powers, but he's aware of it enough to walk you through it. He puts it in your mouth and talks you through every step of it. A feverish warmth in your body, your mind abandoning itself to this urge you cannot fight and resist. You'd be begging for David to help you, to alleviate some of the pain it causes in your core so you can release the endorphins you crave but he would hold back. He would help you, he would assist you, but he would not take advantage of you. When the sex-pollen runs out, he will help you clean up, hydrate and rest. Some sort of one of a kind experience only David can provide.

... Or maybe he did get gangbanged by the alien and inherited some tentacles he has to satisfy every once in a while so they don't cause him harm. He has to sex pollen himself so he can handle the seemingly endless sex drive of Calvin at times (Calvin has his way with David). Perhaps, when the need is too grand for one person to fulfill it, you have to get sex-pollened too so you can both get used beyond your mind and body's limits (Calvin has his way with both David and you).

Tommy Cahill 💖 Childhood Friends to Lovers

I was going to write this prompt whether the wheel wanted me to or not. Any version of friends to lovers screams Tommy to me. Years of secret pining, years of insatiable yearning, years of secret feelings. Years of listening to the same U2 song while thinking of each other!!! The song Tommy introduced you to, the song that might have started it all! You were both waiting to be picked up by your parents after school, Tommy was kicking rocks as far as he could and you were watching him while swaying your lunchbox around. Your respective fathers drove into the parking lot around the same time, windows rolled down, the same radio frequency playing the same song. "My dad likes this song a lot" little Tommy said. "My dad likes it too!" you answered before running to your parent's car as Tommy did the same. You would start to hang out at recess. Tommy was full of energy, he had the best ideas for games. You liked hanging out with him so much. You liked to invite him for a snack after school when your parents let you. He felt more like home with you than with his own family. He had always lived in the shadows of his brother, Sam, except with you. He always wore a beanie on his head even when it was warm. He liked to eat popsicles all year long. He liked sour candies to the point he burnt his tongue with the citric acide. He brought his small collection of Hot Wheels cars to play with you on rainy days at school. You were the only person he invited for his birthday party year after year.

Year after year, Tommy and you were inseparable. Two peas in a pod that, as time passed, got into trouble all of your parents would disapprove of. Your family blamed Tommy for his bad influence, his family blamed him too. You were teenagers, you found new ways to hang out. You would go to the park in the evenings to share a conversation sitting on the swings. You would stay in the school yard to do homework, copying off each other to make up for your weaknesses. You would listen to him while he talked about his father, about his brother. He would listen to you too. You would share his walkman, alternating between who got the headphones to listen to songs you both enjoyed. It became more and more difficult to find time to hang out, you both tried. You tried so hard but it felt as though everything was pulling you apart.

Until you, inevitably, drifted. You focused on your life while Tommy struggled with his. He was getting into fights at school, he started smoking and drinking, he hung out with the wrong crowd. He was a fun and charming guy, everyone loved him. Everyone but his family apparently. It came to a point where you barely saw him at all, he got suspended from school and your parents disapproved of you talking to him even on the phone to catch up on shows you both watched on television or movies you were excited to see at the theatre. Until one day, Tommy disappeared from your life about as suddenly as he entered it. You continued with your projects and he continued with his bad ideas that eventually led him to jail. When you found out about it, you visited him. It was only for about half an hour every month, but you visited him and it felt as though things had never changed between the two of you. You brought your new CD player, the security guards allowed you to let Tommy listen to a recent U2 album you knew he would love. You had pictures developed of your small adventures, of your apartment, of the snowmen you built after a storm. You visited him around Valentine's Day, the last Valentine's Day he spent in prison, and he had bribed a guard so they would buy you a rose at the florist in town. He gave you the rose in the visitor's room and it felt like the most romantic gesture in the world. You almost never missed a visit, if you did he would know about it in advance so he would not get sad. You were the highlight of the several months he spent in jail, the years he spent there until his sentence ended.

Things were not always easy. Tommy had a temper, he had a past with actions you did not always approve of. You had to fight with your family, with the Cahills too so they gave him time to start over. You faced every obstacle life threw his way. When the news broke that his brother was dead, Tommy and you went back to your elementary school. To hang out, to try and remember what it was like to be a kid when your biggest worry was to get as many candies as possible while trick or treating. You watched him as he kicked a rock across the parking lot. You handed him the other earbud connected to your MP3, it played this same song you both loved. Through the years, you guys had held hands and kissed. Silly hand holding all sticky and grimy from a crafts projects at school, silly pecks on the lips after eating cupcakes with too much frosting. Holding hands in high school when you needed support after receiving a disappointing grade. Kissing and laughing about how it was gross to do it with a friend after going for a swing at the park. You had done all of that. But when he held your hand and when he kissed you that night, things changed for the better. It felt as though this kiss spoke for all of the years spent with or without each other, when you were so painfully in love that everyone around the two of you knew it except you.

John Kinley 💖 One Bed

I'm going full sad mode here, but funerals. He's back in America, funerals are held to one of the many men who died under his authority. You're in the family of the deceased guy. John wants to keep it low profile, he wants the focus to be on the man they're celebrating both the life and death of not on the war-hero-but-kind-of-not-heroic-at-all who helped one afghan interpreter get a better life. So he sits towards the back of the church, next to you in fact. You don't talk, it's as if he doesn't acknowledge your presence at all until you hand him you small packet of tissues because you noticed he cried. The funerals end, everyone gathers in the cemetery of endless white graves of all the other fallen soldiers. Except the sky gets dark and heavy, the clouds gather and soon enough rain pours and lightning strikes. Everyone rushes to the nearest restaurants or malls or hotels, for a place to stay dry until the storm passes.

You both end up in the lobby of the same hotel, soaked to the bone from the rain. Phones keep ringing, the computers' system crash from such high demand, the new and modified reservations keep coming in. The hotel manager is trying to calm everyone down and accommodate as best as they can. John, who had already gotten a room, spots you in the crowd. You look distressed. He goes up to you, you tell him you don't know how you can drive home in the rain. He's almost offended you're even considering the option of driving in such weather and put yourself in danger. He offers you to use his room, you can dry up with towels or take a hot shower until the storm passes. Except it doesn't pass. Now, not only are you stuck away from home but you're stuck in a hotel room with a total stranger.

Eventually, night falls and John insists that you get some rest so you can drive home tomorrow. The room only has one bed, not a big one at that either. There aren't enough blankets and pillows to sleep on the ground. John insists he can take the floor if you'd prefer, if it makes you feel safer. He doesn't mind. He's slept on worse surfaces than carpet. That's when you inquire about him. John. As in the Master Sergeant John Kinley? Yes. You feel a bit safer, if he went so far to protect his interpreter, you assumed he was not a bad guy. You both surrender and share the bed, using a decorative pillow as a separation for your peace of mind. Except, you shiver. The cold rain had gotten to you. You shiver and John cannot sleep. John has slept in worse conditions, the loudest noises or the worst smells someone can think of. He has slept surrounded by cadavres after a mission that left him stranded and waiting to be picked up. He's slept through it all (except the emotional turmoil left by Ahmed's uncertain destiny but you don't need to know that) but you shivering and shaking keeps him up. He scoots closer and closer to you on the bed. He puts the decorative pillow between your head and the headboard so you don't hurt yourself. Warmth is warmth, whether it comes from a fireplace or a body, it does the job. He coos at you when you stir in your sleep, he whispers he just wants you to calm down. He rubs your arm, hoping the friction helps your body to warm up and allows you to drift to sleep. You eventually do... John falls asleep too. Holding you, spooning you, keeping you safe.

Elwood Dalton 💖 Fake Dating

This follows the events of that one infamous fight that ultimately ended Dalton's UFC career. They were desperate to improve the public's opinion of Dalton, so people saw him as more than a murderer, so people stopped talking about how he killed Harris in the octagon that night. Many ideas were thrown around: visit an animal shelter and take photos with a funky looking dog, leak a bunch of nudes and make it seem accidental, say he's going to a rehab facility for God knows what. Anything, they considered anything. Brands had ended their contracts with him abruptly, trainers abandoned him, most friends (within and outside of the UFC) left him behind... No one wanted to be around him. No one except you.

Perhaps you were a long-time friend who knew him before he became a notorious fighter, perhaps you were someone who worked with him (assistant? social media manager? nutritionist? a masseuse? skilled trainer who could kick him across the room? professional ice bath provider? you choose). You stayed by his side and watched everyone ditch him in the dirt. His manager (or whatever replacement they got to handle the crisis since his actual representative left as shit hit the fan) came up with this great idea. A new relationship. A new narrative. A new image. After Dalton the fearless fighter, Dalton the rage-filled killer, the world could discover Dalton the loving boyfriend. Dalton could not be more against it, he refuses to drag you into his mess. Your reputation has been affected already, he can't let things get worse. He does not want any of this fake-dating story. But you... You know it would help him. You want to help him.

So you guys start to date. Photos are staged so you post them on your social media, pretending you had been going on several dates with the former fighter. Cute captions, cuter anniversary stories to celebrate months spent together and different milestones in the relationship. Appearances to random events, mostly parties or brand deals when they warm up to Dalton again as they see the traction he is receiving online. You become his arm candy. You can't lie, you appreciate the luxurious treatment but you hate that it makes Dalton so uncomfortable. You knew this fake and extremely public relationship would help him... But did Dalton want to be helped at all? The relationship eventually ends with a photograph of the two of you looking your best. No harm. No bitterness. A mutual agreement your relationship has come to an end. Dalton and you share a moment together, alone, away from cameras and people's nosiness. He tells you that he wants to disappear. That he needs to disappear. You understand and let him choose his fate now that the world sees him as nothing but a furious animal. You let him go. Maybe, eventually, he realizes he made a mistake letting you go too.

i thought i was done but then i was like "aww i didn't get dalton what if i spun one more time in case i got him". and i did get him. <3

i had to research sex pollen because i knew almost nothing about it so i needed some help (fanlore & reddit one of the comments mention this sweet talking through the effects of sex pollen, i didn't even read the whole comment i was sold right away but then i read the comment and it feels like plagiarism oh nooooooo 😭).

this was sooooo much fun! thank you again daphne! i might have girlbossed too close to the sun with the five ideas but i had many more options to pair i could have kept going forever! i love this so much.

Great, now that I have the attention of the right target audience: it's time for another SPIN THE WHEEL - Jake Boys Edition

Spin the character wheel 3 times

Spin the trope wheel 3 times

Pair your characters with the tropes however you like and share in the comments or tags. Got ideas how a combination might turn out? Great, tell us everything!

Choose your favorite trope in the poll if you like (poll under the cut)

have fun (and cheat with the spinning if you want, I won't come for you)

this was inspired by our lovely @harmonity-vibes, I hope you're okay with what I did with your idea

Shamelessly tagging the Crew (hit me up if you want me to stop annoying you):

@gyll-yee-haw @gyllenhaalstories @charliehoennam @harmonity-vibes @jennaajoseph

@billyboyblue@stephendorff @lust4life01 @det-loki @ilovedavidloki

@anunusers @frozen-hearts-club @caffeineplusmypen

The crew=every blog that comes across my dash and interacts with Jake content. If we've never talked: hi! If you want to be part of the crew, dm me. ✨🫶🏻

[jennaajoseph]

ᯓ★ 𝙒𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 ! ⸻ I make fics , moodboards and icons! This blog is pretty much sfw , I write : fluff / angst. I'm not taking requests for any smut fics ! ( keep that in mind when you request ). The reader is either gender neutral or female because I can't write male readers. All contents are mentioned at the beginning of each story.

ᯓ★ 𝙒𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙄𝙣𝙛𝙤. ⸻ Avery / Lux , 8teen , they / them. I'm a new writer so keep that in mind when you read my stuff. English is not my first language ! feel free to correct me if it's needed.

ᯓ★ 𝙒𝙝𝙤 𝙄 𝙬𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧 ? ⸻ Mostly for Jake Gyllenhaal and his characters , but I'm pretty much multifandom so you can request anything ! Personally my other favs : Ewan McGregor , Ryan Gosling ( + their characters ).

ᯓ★ 𝙒𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙨: 𝙮𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙣𝙤. ⸻ I don't think I have anything specific that I won't write for. If I think that your request is comfortable for me to write then I'll do it , if not — I won't. Same goes to the characters , I probably won't write for characters that I don't know , or the ones I don't like , but don't be scared to ask ! I'll politely respond to everything :D

ᯓ★ 𝙍𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙨. ⸻ current status ;

fics — open / closed.

icons — open / closed.

moodboards — open / closed.

( you can request anyone in icons and moodboards too ! )

ᯓ★ 𝙐𝙥𝙙𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙨. ⸻ most recent updates from my page ;

fic — Jake Gyllenhaal as clingy boyfriend — headcanons. !

icons — rusty sabich (presumed innocent 2024) icons !

moodboard — orange pilot kelson moodboard !

ᯓ★ 𝘼𝙨𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙨 & 𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙩𝙨. ⸻ Your ask answers are tagged here or ( #avery's inbox ! tag ) ! Credits : background — demon_1094 on pinterest , divider ( s ) — @/chachachannah , @/kimjiho1

ᯓ★ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩. ⸻ links + summary.

JAKE GYLLENHAAL ↷

Laundromat. — Jake Gyllenhaal x F!Reader | 06.06.2024

↳ Jake spots you doing your laundry.

Make-up practice. — Jake Gyllenhaal x Reader | 08.04.2024

↳ Jake agreed suggested to practice your make-up skills on him.

Surprise ! — Jake Gyllenhaal x Reader | 03.04.2024

↳ You always adored Jake's beard , but one day he surprises you with something new.

DONNIE DARKO ( DONNIE DARKO ) ↷

Black Fingernails. — Donnie Darko x Reader | 16.04.2024

↳ Donnie notices that you painted your nails , and decides to match with you.

HOLDEN WORTHER ( THE GOOD GIRL ) ↷

Home. — Holden Worther x F!Reader | 28.04.2024

↳ Holden comes home after a long time at the mental hospital.

ROBERT GRAYSMITH ( ZODIAC ) ↷

work in progress !

DAVID LOKI ( PRISONERS ) ↷

The beginnings. — David Loki x F!Reader | 31.05.2024

↳ You and David remembered your sweet beginnings together.

HEADCANONS ↷

Jake Gyllenhaal as clingy boyfriend. | 26.07.2024

Hooking up with rusty sabich. | 25.06.2024

ᯓ★ 𝙈𝙤𝙤𝙙𝙗𝙤𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙨. ⸻ links.

orange pilot kelson moodboard. | 12.06.2024

b&w jake gyllenhaal moodboard. | 01.05.2024

ᯓ★ 𝙄𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙨. ⸻ links.

rusty sabich (presumed innocent 2024) icons. | 12.06.2024

anthony swofford (jarhead 2005) icons. | 05.06.2024

jake gyllenhaal coquette bow icons. | 21.05.2024

holden worther (the good girl 2002) icons. | 16.05.2024

! No credits needed !