#john kinley

[gyllenhaalstories]

FIREWORKS — JOHN KINLEY 🎆

summary: does john ever feel like a plastic bag drifting through the wind, wanting to start again? yeah, probably. but this fic isn't about john's existential crisis. it's about keeping his mind occupied during the fireworks of the 4th of july.

warnings: smut (teasing, masturbation, fingering, edging, orgasm control, penetration, outdoors sex). 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 2680

gifs credits: @/pedropcl (cropped) / divider credits: @/firefly-graphics

notes: i finally wrote for john (big thanks go to @sizzlingcloudmentality for helping me out with your amazing suggestions)! it's not the idea i've attempted to write like 4 times, but it's an idea. that's gotta count for something 🫡 thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

"The truck is loaded and ready to go." John's smile faded when he saw the new bags waiting for him by the front door.

"Just in case." You justified without being prompted to.

"We're leaving for the weekend, honey." He bent over to unzip one of the kaki Duffel bags, he pulled out several mismatched fuzzy socks. "We don't need all that. Wait... Is that a candle?"

You nodded proudly when he held up the glass jar. "We agreed to have a relaxing weekend getaway. Candles are relaxing. Look! That's your favourite scent too!"

He grinned at the attention and closed the bag after securing the candle deep into the clothes you packed just in case. He stood up with the bag on his shoulder. He held on the strap with one hand and grabbed yours with the other, dragging you out of the house before you came up with the idea to bring the appliances too.

John shut the tailgate and walked around the pickup truck to open your door, making sure you got in just fine. After a peck on your cheek, he closed the door and made his way to the driver's seat.

"Do you think there's gonna be a lot of traffic?" You buckled your seat belt at the same time as John did. "People go crazy around this time of year." John shot you a look that meant to say when did they not?

"We're not taking the highway." He engaged on the street and made a few turns you did not recognize as your usual route.

You trusted him. He knew his away around endless deserts and bushy hills, this would be no different especially since John had helped you to plan this weekend getaway. You found a secluded Bed and Breakfast, hours away from the house. It seemed cozy, you were lucky to reserve a room during the busy weekend.

The village was so small, there was not a single activity planned for the Fourth of July. You could have told him you were both going camping without electricity or running water and he would have accepted the invitation. He would have accepted anything just to escape.

Your mind wandered while John kept driving into the sunset. You wondered what food they would serve for breakfast, what the backyard would look like. You hoped they had a garden. You wondered if this would become a yearly tradition, where the managers would recognize you and fold your towels into pretty swans before your arrival. You hoped it did. You wondered what John was thinking about, you turned your head to admire him.

He felt your gaze on him, he grinned. "Everything alright? Did we forget something?" He marked a pause, he turned on a different road. "Let me guess, you wanted to bring the lawn mower?"

"We don't even have a lawn mower."

"Shit, we forgot to buy one?" He chuckled. "The trip is ruined."

Your heart skipped a beat at the sound of his laughter. A rare treat. A smile lingered on his lips, growing wider when he set his hand on your thigh. Your hand covered his and your eyes did not leave his handsome face for dozens of miles.

He could feel you were getting bored. He was too, quite frankly. At a certain point, the scenery blended into one blurry painting of trees and run-down houses. He knew the destination was well worth the hours of driving, but he would not despise a change of view. In the meantime, John distracted himself with caresses and squeezes on your thigh. One moment his hand was down to your knee, but then it would move back up and his fingers would attempt to disappear between your thighs.

You shifted on your seat, trying not to let those touches get to you too quickly. You still had a long way to go, but if John kept teasing you it would be impossible to resist. His hand hovered until you settled down so he could place it back on your thigh with a firm grip. You spotted a lonesome traffic light in the distance.

"Is everything alright?" John asked again, glancing in your direction with a faint frown.

"It will be soon." You said with a smirk that did not go unnoticed.

John looked ahead, squeezing your thigh harshly. His hand pushed further up, but you closed you legs around him too tight to let him move. He scrunched his nose at the sudden, but small, frustration.

Your prayers for the green light to turn red were heard and you unbuckled your seat belt as soon as the truck went immobile. "Unlock the door." You demanded.

John did not budge, pretending he did not hear you.

"Unlock the door, please."

The lock clicked. You slid down the passenger seat, your skirt riding up while you did so. John watched you while you slammed one door, opened another. He turned his head while you clumsily climbed on the back seat of the truck.

"Nothing wrong with being the passenger princess," You answered the question he did not dare to ask. "I just wanted a little more space."

His face was still lit up by a bright red hue when you found a comfortable position. John put two and two together, indulging in your shenanigan without any hesitation. He focused on the road again, darting his eyes on the rear view mirror. "A little more to the left," you scooted. "Perfect."

The light turned green and the engine roared while John kept driving. You pulled on the the seat belt so it was loosely attached around you, giving you plenty of room to move. You spread your legs open, finding a position that was both comfortable for you and easy to admire for John.

"You're playing with fire." John scoffed.

"No, I'm trying to distract you from the fireworks." You corrected him and earned a grin in response. "The least you can do is say thank you."

"I'll thank you when I'll be satisfied with my distraction." You leaned forward, a playful slap landed on his shoulder. "Hey!" He adjusted the mirror so it hit the right angle, then he winked at you.

You sat against the large back seat. You ran your hands over your thighs, in the places John had touched. "How much time do we have left?"

John flicked his wrist, trusting his military watch more than the clock of the truck. "About an hour." He estimated based off the number of miles indicated on the last road sign.

Your fingertips drew abstract patterns on the inside of your thighs, approaching close to your core. You hummed, thinking about a plan to make the fun last. Your breath hitched when you reached the wet fabric of your panties.

John's breath hitched too when he caught a glimpse of you, staring at him while you pushed your panties to the side. He missed what happened next as the road became sinuous for a moment.

You brought your middle finger to your lips and licked it, eyes still glued on your man. The pad of your wet finger pressed on your clit. You moaned out his name while you began to rub in circular motions.

He caught you while your head fell against the back of the seat. His own jaw dropped slowly while he watched the expression on your face as you picked up the pace. The pickup veered into the other lane for a quick second, John straightened it up.

You stopped abruptly. "Be careful." You warned him.

"You're being dangerous." He warned you, too. He gave you time to settle down, to get further lost into your pleasure after your heart had skipped a beat in fear.

He stared ahead, now you were the one watching him. You watched as John blinked slowly. As his knuckles turned white from the tight grip on the steering wheel. As his Adam's apple bopped while he swallowed thickly. As a loose strand of hair escaped the sunglasses perched up on his head.

His voice drew you out of your fixation. You made him repeat himself.

"You're not cumming 'til i say so." Somehow, that did not make you stop. You rubbed more, more, more, and you pulled away right on the edge of your orgasm. "Good luck with that, babe. 'Cause we both know you won't last."

You exhaled, coming down from your first edge. "We both know you won't last either."

John's silence proved you right. Though he showed more patience and restraint than you expected. He coaxed you through some of your edges, reminding you to pull away at the right time and telling you that "you look so fuckin' pretty for me, that's it, fuck yourself good".

The more praise you earned, the harder it became to hold back. His words toyed with your mind, making it so incredibly difficult to not give in. To listen to his order and not cum until he commanded you to. This particular edge gave you a rough time, your fingers barely stroked your clit that you were about to burst into an explosive orgasm. You tensed on your seat, eyes shut and with a breath stuck.

John glanced at the mirror and saw you. He saw you were about to tip over the edge. It was written all over your face that you could no longer resist your own release. "Don't you fucking dare." He clenched his jaw and pulled over in a swift turn of the steering wheel. You shifted in your seat, causing you to stop at the perfect time. "You're not cumming. Not without me." He put on the brakes and lost no time to get out of the vehicle.

"Took you long enough." You spoke when the door opened before you. John reached into the car to remove the seat belt. He gave you a stern look that made you smile from ear to ear. He was just so fun to mess around with, until he was not... But you did not feel like pushing his limits too much tonight. You could save that for another time.

John helped you to scoot closer to the edge of the seat, he stopped you from closing your thighs together. Finally, he could touch what he had been craving. His fingers worked you close to another edge. And another. And another. Until you were writhing for him on the seat, until he was sure you had left a damp spot on it. He wanted to test your limits, just a bit, just for fun.

"No, no, no." You gripped on his forearm, trying to pull him away.

He grunted in satisfaction, you followed his command and he did not even need to remind you. "That's my good girl." He captured your lips with his, his beard tickled your skin. Like a magnet, he attracted you out of the pickup until your feet met the ground.

His tongue explored your mouth while his hands gripped on your hips. The second you pulled away to catch your breath, he made you spin on your feet. The buckle of his belt rattled while he rushed to pull down his pants and underwear just below his ass.

You bunched up your skirt for him, propped your leg up on the step. You earned a low, rumbling grunt as a reward when he pushed his cock in your wet pussy. In return, you moaned out his name again and caused him to bottom out inside of you.

"Got yourself ready for me, huh? Is this what you wanted all along?" The bruising grip of his rough hands on your hips made you wince. "You wanted to get fucked by the side of the road like a whore." He pulled out, then rammed himself all the way back in. "That's so cute."

His left hand abandoned your hip to travel up your sides then your shoulder. Until he found the back of your head, he pressed you down against the seat. With his other hand, he guided you to meet his thrusts. At any moment, someone could drive by. Not that you had seen many cars thus far, but it was a possibility. It added a whole new dimension that both John and you found pleasure in.

The show you gave him from the back seat, paired with palming himself over his pants, had gotten him riled up to the point he knew he would not last long. He wasted no time and enjoyed the feeling of your clenching walls to the fullest.

"Just like that! Keep... Fuck! Keep going." You snaked a hand underneath your body until your fingertips reached your clit, barely brushing over it to take you closer to your release.

Suddenly, John’s thrusts stopped. He turned his head to the side and watched as the sky was illuminated in the distance by red, white and blue fireworks. He took a second to admire them then he continued to fuck you, picking up the pace. So that you would moan louder. And louder. And louder. Until you were all he could hear.

The skin of your ass slapped against his thighs, adding to the obscene sounds. Your noises covered up the explosions of the fireworks.

"Thank you." John broke the silence, slowing down. He dragged his hips back and forth, making you feel every inch of him.

"What for?" You mumbled. You revelled in the way John’s cock stretched your tight pussy. Your slick walls clenched on him even more.

He punctuated his thrusts with grunts. He leaned forward, pressing down on your back and trapping you against the car seat. He whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "For being a good distraction."

"Good enough to let me cum?" Your voice cracked.

"Damn right." John smiled on your cheek while he pressed a kiss on it. "Cum for me, let me feel you."

The sky turned pitch-black again as if nothing happened. As if the fireworks travelled all the way to your core while you came for John. Stars spun around your head, you still saw them when you closed your eyes.

John saw them too when he spilled his cum inside of you, coating your walls white. He stilled, replacing the sound of your skin slapping by his addictive grunts of pleasure. Slowly, he stood up straight, careful not to his his head against the door frame. He was even more careful when you did the same, his hand protecting the back of your head.

"Well..." You chuckled, coming down from your high. "The whole point was to avoid the fireworks. Should we just cancel and drive back home?" You would be disappointed not to visit the Bed and Breakfast, but you would understand if John preferred to stay home.

The unpleasant thought of unpacking the multitude of bags you lovingly forced him to bring along crossed his mind. His lips curled into an upside-down smile. "Let's just keep driving." He glanced down at your wrinkled skirt. His hands disappeared under them to rip your panties from you as you gasped at the gesture. With a proud grin, he walked around the pickup and sat behind the wheel again.

You regained your place as the passenger princess. Your eyes were glued on John as he engaged back on the road. He pressed a button, the window on his left slid open. He stuck his hand out and, with a shit eating smirk on his face, he let them go. Your panties drifted through the wind.

He chuckled when you abruptly turned to look at the side mirror. You distinguished a drop of red on the blackness of the asphalt that blended with the sky. You scoffed in disbelief while your panties disappeared into the landscape.

John's hand regained its place on your thigh, more so between your thighs. He groaned at the soft, slick skin under his fingertips. He dragged his hand up until it reached the familiar heat of your core. "Yeah, let's just keep going."

[charliehoennam]

take it all.

A/N: Promised @juniebugg I would follow up on this little blurb so here it is! ngl, i got mad horny writing this. i think it'll show lolololol hope u like it. please reblog, yall. sharing is caring.

Warnings: smut, no protection (wrap it up and stay safe), cumplay (i think?), language, NOT SAFE FOR MINORS

Word count: 1,332 (got a lil carried away but this aint nothing compared to the sfw alphabet head canons i got in the works for David Loki. If anyone would like to read that, lemme know!)

SHARING IS CARING, SO PLEASE REBLOG

John couldn’t look more relaxed. The sunshine radiating in from the window behind the couch felt warm against your face. His head fell back against the couch with a long moan as he watched you through his lustful half lidded blue eyes. Calloused fingers combed through your hair, pushing it away from your face. Praises fell from his lips like constant prayers, encouraging you to continue as your cheeks hallowed against his harden dick. He was so turned on. You could feel him twitch in your mouth as you bobbed up and down, sucking his cock.

Releasing his shaft with a wet pop, you let your hand substitute your mouth and wrapped it around his shift to soothe him. He was so close to cumming, but you had other plans for him.

“God, baby. That was fucking close” he panted softly with his legs spread wide open.

You giggled and slowed the pace of your hand to calm him, peppering kisses up the soft flesh of his thighs. When your lips latched around his left ball, he used every drop of restraint in his bones to control himself.  He was ready to cum right there, but he couldn’t let the fun be over already. His eyes darkened as he felt your tongue against his skin as your lips pressed to add just enough pressure to deliciously tease him. He adored the tinge of pain rising through his body, heightening his pleasure even more.

The mere sight of his mouth gaping open in an O shape when your hand gave his tip a squeeze along with your mouth on his balls - altering from left to right and right to left to ensure they’d both receive the deserving attention -  left your pussy tingling. You could feel your wetness slipping from the entrance; your pussy lips were slick and coated in his saliva as they rubbed smoothly against each other, aching for his cock as you relished in the taste of his saltiness. The pressure in your core kept building and building as you felt the ghost of his tongue probing your pussy. You closed your eyes for a moment to remember the burn of his thick beard as his mouth engulfed your cunt, devouring and savoring your taste. Your clit began to throb just thinking about how it tingled when he sucked on it.

“Come up here” he ordered in a soft voice.

As you moved to straddle his lap, his hands were quick to slide under the fabric of your oversized sleep shirt. Really, it was just an old Metallica t-shirt that used to be his until you’d started living together in your first apartment.

You didn’t even see where the shirt had fallen to. All you could concentrate on was how warm and wet his mouth felt latching on your nipple. Your chest arched instinctively into his touch, splaying your breasts to the warmth of the sun and his saliva. His hair was soft to the touch as your fingers immediately tangled in his rich brown locks. You leaned your head down to watch him hungrily suck your tits. The minty scent of his 2 in 1 men’s shampoo filled your nostrils. His large hands kneaded your breasts as he altered between them until he finally pulled back.

“These are so fucking beautiful, you know that? Could suck your tits all fucking day.” He grinned mischievously as his hands shook your tits, making them jiggle for his amusement. “Goddamn, baby,” he whispered slipping a hand down to feel your drenched pussy lips, “you’re fucking soaking for me. I wanna see this. Lay down for me?”

His shit-eating grinned grew from ear to ear once you laid back on the couch. He moved to kneel on the floor between your legs, his sweaty hairy chest glistening in the afternoon sun. Your pussy gushed being on full display for him. With the kids, the auto-shop and the house to take care of, you and John had been restricted to quickies in the laundry room of the house or his office at the shop after closing time. It’d been a while since you were able to get as naughty as you wanted to. But with the kids away at school, John’s time off and your long absence of sexual satisfaction at each other’s hands, you could not pass up the opportunity.

“Missed this pussy so fucking much. Feels so good, all wet for me” he mumbles too focused admiring your cunt as his thumbs pulled your lips apart only to squeeze them back together teasing your clit with the pressure of his thumbs. His cock slid between your lips as he smirked widely, watching how his teasing actions made you squirm and grind you against his dick. You needed the friction; you were about to burst inside with arousal brimming at the edge of your control.

“Easy, sweetheart. I’ll give you what you want. Lemme play a bit huh?” He chuckled lowly with his eyes fixed on how your pussy lips engulfed him, sandwiching his dick between the slick folds.

“Look how pretty you look with my cock like this. A little cock sandwich,” he chuckled at his own joke, tapping your sensitive nub with the heavy hard head of his shaft.  “I think I might just cum in your pussy and on it too.” You nodded smiling widely at the thought of your cunt being coated in his seed.

His hips moved back as his hands held your knees back, folding you in half to keep your pussy on display for him. You could scream from excitement. Just feeling his cock easing its way into you was enough to get you off at this point.

“F-Fuck. Nice and slow. I love watching your wet pussy swallow this cock. Wraps around it so good,” he groaned staring at your puffy lips as he bottomed out with his groin pressed to your cunt. “Play with your tits for me, sweetheart?”

How could you not when he asks with such a sweet soft voice?

His hips pulled back out slowly until he was all the way out and pushed back into your pussy painstakingly slow a couple of times. Then, he pushed back in with a hard thrust that made your body jerk. You began to beg and he smirked watching your face as you spread your legs as wide as possible.

Your breasts bounced wildly as his hips sped up. Your slick became audible as your pussy squelched around his cock and stuck to the skin of his groin. You’d never looked more beautiful to him than now, with your pussy full of his cock, taking in every inch as your tits jerked in circles from the harshness of his hips. The only moments he could tear his eyes away from your body was when they closed, trying to hold back his orgasm.

His movements grew harder and untamed. He was as close as you were. Watching your hand rub your clit as his cock pounded your wet flesh, the loud echoing slaps of skin, the panting and moaning of your despair growing louder, it was all too much. You felt the pressure explode inside you and released your orgasm on him, legs trembling from the overstimulation. Fingers tightening against the supple flesh of your thighs, he finally gave in and coated your walls with his cum with a wild growl.

He pulled his cock out carefully, trying to keep his white load in your open hole. Using his tip, he pushed the pearly white cream from your hole and spread it up and down over your swollen folds to coat you inside and out.

“My girl, my wife, and now my little filthy fucking cumslut” he chuckled breathing heavily as he leaned to kiss you tenderly, holding your face in his hands like a precious jewel to be admired.

“Good thing the kids have soccer practice after school ‘cause I’m only getting started.”

[meau666]

need him

[redchikittymeow]

Guy Ritchie's The Covenant

[saintlopezlov3r]

John Kinley🦂

Guy Richie’s The Covenant

[sizzlingcloudmentality]

wip wednesday

Thanks for the tag @guiltyasdave 💛

This week I actually have two active wips. The first being angsty Frankie Morales and then my first testing the waters for a Jake Gyllenhaal character (John Kinley, my beloved)

My take on bfd!John Kinley

Oops, what's that, a secret Rusty the Bitch project

[just-just-gyllenhaal]

[hulia-711]

[diver5ion]

[randomrichards]

THE COVENANT:

Afghan translator

Helps Sergeant through hostile lands

Who in turn saves him

[redpool]

This movie looks like it's going to be heavy for a Guy Ritchie movie.

[gyllenhaalstories]

JOHN KINLEY DRABBLE

trope: one bed

warnings: army/military, death, funerals, storm. 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 800

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'm going full sad mode here, but funerals. He's back in America, funerals are held for 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 to 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 your small packet of tissues because you noticed he cried. The funerals end, everyone gathers in the cemetery of endless white graves for all of 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 Kinley. 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. He insists he does not move when he sleeps, but he understands you need the mental barrier. You both fall asleep, things seem to go smoothly.

Except, you shiver. The cold rain had gotten to you. You shiver and John cannot sleep oddly enough. 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 uncontrollably keeps him up. He scoots closer and closer to you on the bed. You just don't stop. You don't even seem to notice your body is shaking. He puts the decorative pillow between your head and the headboard so you don't hurt yourself. He scoots even closer until his broad chest presses against your back. 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, noticing his presence, he whispers he just wants you to calm down. You're too tired to hesitate, you're too tired to tell him you'll be okay. He rubs your arm, hoping the friction helps your body to warm up and allows you to drift to sleep. He presses more against you, you can feel his warm skin through your clothes. He feels like a radiator. He stays right here with you until you fall asleep again. You eventually do... John falls asleep too. Holding you, spooning you, keeping you safe. Neither of you move that night.

John wakes up first, his body conditioned to wake up at ungodly hours. It takes a moment to process the presence of a stranger in his bed. As much as a person he cuddled to sleep can be a stranger. You snore softly, sleeping soundly. He takes a few deep breaths and he feels his eyelids getting heavier. A little longer won't hurt. Holding you a little closer won't hurt either.

[charliehoennam]

A/N: no hate on Carol, she’s a sweet lil babe. this can be read from her pov too. just crushing on this man. might a smutty follow-up. lemme know if you’d like to read it or if you enjoyed. feedback is always welcome. please reblog if it’s positive! apologies if any mistakes are found.

Pairing: John Kinley x gn!reader

Word count: 1,180

SHARING IS CARING, SO PLEASE REBLOG

Sleeping in the same bed with John was usually amazing. The warmth that radiated from him was a constant and pleasant reminder that he was there. After so many nights spent thousands of miles apart, your only desire was to hold onto him and never let go.

You knew what you had signed up for when you met. His commitment to his honor was one of the first things you learned about him and it was one of the many reasons you fell in love with him in the first place. How could you ask him to change what you loved about him? So, you supported in every decision he made renew his contract with the army; smiled through the hurt you knew the lonely nights were bound to bring upon receiving every deployment date. It was an emptiness no video call could fill. But you needed to be strong. John had enough to worry about overseas. You didn’t want to add to his burden and being with the children demanded strength.

John’s last call had still been taking a toll on his mind. Relieved know Ahmed and his family were finally safe, it wasn’t enough to make the nightmares disappear. He lost his entire team within minutes. One by one, the smiling faces of dumb joy became another folded flag and dog-tag to be handed to family. Though he knew the risk – everyone knew the risk – the camaraderie they shared and the unique bond of relying on one another to survive couldn’t be vanquished as quickly as their lives were. That bond couldn’t allow them to simply not grow attached. That bond haunted John.

Some nights were better than others. Most often, he was able to leave his inner demons at bay long enough to rest his mind. But every now and then, they would find a way to sneak past his defenses and line their traps to ignite the ambush. Tonight, was one of those nights.

You could hear his heavy breathing as you slowly came to, shedding the exhaustion from your body as adrenaline begun to take its’ place. As you opened your eyes, he shot up from his pillow leaving behind a wet print on the fabric. His long sleeve pajama shirt had already been soaked from the cold sweat that seeped through his clothes.

Once his eyes scanned the environment, he quickly processed the fact that he was home and that he had been dreaming. Dreaming was a far stretch. In his mind, he was back there in midst of combat bracing himself for the blunt contact of the back end of a rifle.

“Fuck…” he whispered under his breath as he ran a large hand over his face, frustrated with his own mind. He wished he could just cleanse his head of that moment. He rarely relieved that close call now, but when he became prisoner of it, it felt like never-ending hell.

He felt the bed shift beside him and peered over his shoulder at you. Guilt merged from his fear.

“Shit. I’m sorry, babe. I’m good. Just go back to sleep.”  It was useless. He knew you wouldn’t.

Pushing the covers off of him, he stood and walked out of the room to make his way to the kitchen for some water. Carrying his glass in hand, he slid the backyard door open and stepped outside for some air.

It was like clockwork. Water, fresh air and space were all he needed to calm down but he always came back for you like you were the cherry on top. You took advantage of the moment to strip the bedding, flip the mattress and set clean, fresh bedding for him. Propping your pillows against the headboard, you sat and laid back on them as you heard his calm footsteps returning.

His big blue eyes found yours and he couldn’t be more grateful to have you. Without a word, you turned the bedside light off and patted the space beside you with a tired smile. He smiled to himself as he walked over and climbed back into the bed, nestling himself against your side. Your arms wrapped around him as he rested his head on your stomach.

“Thank you.”

“You got nothing to thank me for.” You replied combing your nails through his dark luscious hair as his arm stretched across your torso. With his hand on your hip, his fingers stroked the soft skin there as he took in your scent.

“No. I do. I got so much to be thankful for.”

You smiled to yourself, but stayed silent after that. Words weren’t needed to let him know you were there. He could feel your devotion with every stroke through his hair. You tried to stay awake as long as you could for him, but you eventually ended up falling asleep before him. He couldn’t blame you and felt relieved that you could rest. He still felt guilty for waking you and keeping you up. But truth was he was right where he wanted to be. Safe in your arms.

You woke up the next morning in a panic, fearing you’d overslept. Did the alarm clock even ring at all? Because you didn’t remember waking up to shut it off. And you wouldn’t have simply gone back to sleep. You couldn’t; it was a school day. Shooting up to your feet, you quickly raced to your daughter’s room to wake her up, but you found the bed empty. The result was the same in your young son’s room. You frowned to yourself confused as you walked to the kitchen – the scene that explained their absence. The dirty dishes from breakfast tossed in the sink, the empty box of frozen waffles, the pan of leftover scrambled eggs now cold on the stovetop. John must’ve taken the kids to school. The note you found on the counter with John’s unique handwriting confirmed it. With a relieved sigh, you unplugged your phone from its’ charger and called your husband.

“Hey, honey.”

“Good morning, sunshine. You sleep alright?” The passing sounds of cars and horns in the background made you aware he’s driving.

“Yeah. I found your note. How’d the kids go?”

“Smooth sailing, sweetheart. I left you a plate in the microwave.”

“Oh, thanks. I’ll just heat it up. Why didn’t you wake me up though?”

“I wanted to let you sleep in after night. I know I wore you out.”

“You didn’t wear me out. Not like you usually do” you smirked.

“It’s never too late, baby” he chuckled smirking widely. “I’m stopping by the store to pick up more waffles for the kids. Any special requests?”

“We could use more milk, coffee and eggs. Oh, and pasta for dinner tonight.”

“I’m on it. Anything else?”

“Not that I can remember, but I’ll text you if I do.”

“Alright, babe. I’ll be home soon.”

“Thank you, John. For covering me today. I promise I’ll make it up to when you get home.”

“Oh, yeah? How’d you plan on doing that?”

“I’ll wear you out this time.”

[varunamatya]

“Unveiling the Power of Narratives: Crafting Your Success Story in Your Life's Journey"

In the realm of cinema, we often find ourselves emotionally invested in the journey of characters like John Kinley, the hero in films like “The Covenant.” The moment he goes back to assist his interpreter Ahmed, we feel a surge of concern, a desire for him to triumph. But have you ever pondered why an audience, essentially strangers to these characters, roots for their success? The answer lies…

[existential-queeer]

You mean to tell me that Evan Buckley AND Benedict Bridgerton came out as bisexual....all in the same year??

AND Francesca's awakening/gay panic?!

HAPPY PRIDE MONTH MY BEAUTIFUL GAYS

[everything-redacted00]

I miss my wife John, I miss him a lot