#to be the definitive mccann

[ikealamps]

happy kraken gameday.......

[vanmccannsfridge]

will never understand why van wore a vest at edinburgh when it was freezing but then wore a jumper at cardiff during a heatwave… make it make sense 😭 here’s the worst screenshot ever to prove it 😂

[sokokoko]

Award-winning writer, Colum McCann, teaches creative writing in Hunter College, New York. This text is based on edited extracts from Colum McCann's book, Letters to a Young Writer.

[vampirepirates]

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THE LONG WINTER ( ... ) SANDOR CLEGANE .

Masterlist:

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⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀𝔖andor Clegane saw clearer then than he ever had - Lyarra Stark, the lone wolf, would never last a day in the Lion's den. To hell with it, he couldn't help but think. He cared not about winter - nor the pack surviving. He cared not for the Starks to begin with. What he did care about, was making sure the all-encompasing light of Lyarra's eyes never went out. Not while he still lived. ⠀⠀⠀

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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"

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ORIGINAL CHARACTER - Lyarra Stark. Twin to Lyanna, sister of Eddard, Benjen, and Brandon.

Lyarra Stark of Winterfell would give her life for her family, while Sandor Clegane would do everything in his power to keep her from doing so. ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀

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— ⠀⠀INTRODUCING ⠀THE CAST OF ⠀⠀'THE LONG WINTER'

( any other characters not listed simply are casted with their usual faceclaim, or whatever comes to mind! these are just the /main/ characters . )

LYARRA ⠀STARK ⠀— ⠀THE ⠀LONE ⠀WOLF .

Played by Katie Mcgrath ( ... )

" You cannot ask me to stay — not when my wolf lays trapped in the jaws of a Lion .. "

SANDOR ⠀CLEGANE ⠀— ⠀THE HOUND ⠀.

Played by Rory McCann ( ... )

" Praying to your Gods, Little Wolf? Good, you're going to need them .. "

REYNE⠀ 'STARK' ⠀— ⠀THE ⠀LOST ⠀GIRL ⠀.

Played by Alicia Agneson⠀ ( ... )

" I will never allow my fear to overcome my love. Not while I still live .. "

GOGNI ⠀⠀— ⠀⠀THE ⠀⠀FREE ⠀⠀MAN   .

Played by Travis Fimmel  ( ... )

" I never knew a wolf to accept her cage as willingly as you have .. "

PETYR ⠀BAELISH ⠀— ⠀⠀LITTLEFINGER .

Played by Aidan Gillen ( ... )

" Trust no one — and yet make sure that everyone can trust you. Loyalty kills more men than fealty .. "

LYANNA ⠀STARK ⠀— ⠀⠀THE ⠀LOVED   .

Played by Kaya Scodelario ( ... )

" Compassion came easy to her, Lyarra could recall. She had never met someone with more love in her heart, than her sister .. "

JON ⠀SNOW ⠀⠀— ⠀⠀THE ⠀BASTARD  .

Played by Kit Harrington ( ... )

" I have only known one mother, my entire life. And now I am meant to watch in silence, as she leaves .. "

TYRION ⠀LANNISTER ⠀— ⠀THE ⠀IMP   .

Played by Peter Dinklage ( ... )

" In my experience, it is a far easier feat to make a friend than an ally! So, let's drink, shall we? "

—               Hello! My name is Zevran! I'll try to keep this short for the sake of my sanity. This is my first official fanfic, so bear with me as I work through this. This fic randomly came to my mind a few weeks ago, and I have not been able to escape it. Some things to note before I start this; Lyarra is not perfect. There will be times where she makes brass decisions, says rude things, and very clearly sides with the wrong people. One example of this, is the nature of her friendship with Petyr Baelish. Petyr is not a good person, and I will never deny this! But he is someone that Lyarra cares for greatly, so I will portray their relationship the best I can. Also, I have never read the books. I just started the first one, but considering I am now writing this -- that will definitely be a slow process. My timeline may be messy, especially considering I am creating my own events and timelines. So if I mess anything up, feel free to let me know -- but know I may not change everything.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy the fic -- and feel free to leave any kind of comment!

             Lover, Hunter, Friend, and Enemy — You

             Will always be every one of these.    Lover,

             Hunter, Friend, and Enemy .. You        will

             Always         be          every       one   of these .

             — Fleurie,                               Love and War .

[temperedink]

Rivals thoughts

this man is the very definition of louche - I've never seen someone embody that word so much

Taggie + Rupert 4EVA

can Bella McCann fight? Because she could absolutely be Feyre

Aidan Turner with the mustache is somehow doing it for me in ways I don't understand?

we get it, Maud wears green because she's Irish

CAMERON COOK MY QUEEN

love the brotp between Rupert and Declan, and between Rupert and Lizzie

Lizzie, why on earth are you staying with your terrible, useless, wet rag of a husband?

they could have played this completely over-the-top 80s nighttime soap opera, but there's actual nuance to everyone? Tony is a shithead, but Tennant gives him those puppy dog eyes every now and then and you're like "wait, am I feeling empathy for this jackass?"

it cracks me up that we're all rooting for Rupert when really he's a to-the-manor-born rich white dude who's a Tory and works for THATCHER, ffs -- but it's this weird combo of charm and smarm that somehow works, and Alex Hassell is selling it

[foundtherightwords]

🏛 👑⚔️"Gladiator II": Once More, with Feeling 🏛 👑⚔️

Just got back from my second viewing of "Gladiator II" - I didn't really enjoy it the first time, but I couldn't get enough of Joe, so I had to watch it again. To my surprise, I actually liked it better this time. Now that I'd let go of my expectations, I could just watch it as an action flick and focus on Joe :)

Joe and Fred and Denzel remained excellent.

Also, I thought they looked familiar the first time around, but couldn't place them - it turns out Alec Utgoff (Alexei from ST3) and Rory McCann (The Hound) were both in it, playing Acacius's second-in-command and captain of the Praetorians, respectively. It's both an ST and a GoT reunion!

That's Alexei! Didn't recognize him without his glasses!

Some more spoiler-y thoughts:

The main weakness of the movie is definitely the script. Paul got the short end of the stick because the script totally hobbled him. Either Hanno's true identity as Lucius should have been revealed from the very beginning (so we could understand his rage toward Rome and his inner turmoil when he was brought back as a slave), or the mystery of Hanno's origin should have been built up a lot more, so we would be curious about him, and when his true identity was revealed, it would be much more satisfying.

Acacius is superfluous. There, I said it. I'm sorry, I think Pedro did a fine job, bringing a lot of the much-needed heart and gravitas to the movie, but narrative-wise, his character is a big ole nothing. His role could be combined with Lucilla's without changing anything (the plot to depose the Emperors and the attempt to rescue Lucius, which led to her arrest and eventual execution, could remain the same), and it would keep the plot tighter too. Acacius's execution could be replaced by Lucilla's execution, which would still result in the riots and Geta's death (RIP my beautiful boy🥲), and the climax could focus more on Lucius and Macrinus, since Lucilla's death at the climax was way too quick and didn't make the impact that it should in an already-crowded third act.

Finally, not really a spoiler but I'm putting it here anyway just in case people want to be surprised: the way Geta screamed "Praetoriaaaaans!!!" after this moment made me feel some kind of way...

[squidsquadlove]

Not sure who on Tumblr might have been there for warmups but I wanted to mention that we definitely had some Kraken joining the Oilers with pride tape on their sticks. 🥹 I saw Yanni Gourde, Alex Wennberg, and Devin Shore, and others saw Oliver Bjorkstrand and Brian Dumoulin. We didn't have a good enough view of warmups in the broadcast to see everyone, but I love how many we COULD see. Thanks, boys 🥹

ETA: Jared McCann and Justin Schultz confirmed!

[wishingicouldfly]

Hi. Many larries used the song 7 as a "proof" just because it begins with Larry. I wonder if someone have already took a better look at the lyrics to try and analyze them more globally to better understand the choice. I was always being ambivalent because of the first sentence which gives me mixed feelings.

Hi anon! I’m not the best person for song analysis, but for me it’s not about the actual song lyrics per se. I don't even think songs he's written are "proof" of anything, necessarily, unless they are combined with other evidence/proof.

Surface wise, I think 7 is a song about being separated from the person you love. (Rumored to be about Catfish’s lead singer, Van McCann and one of the Haim sisters, though this post goes down a rabbit hole speculating that it's about Van and his bandmate Larry Lau: A Million Visions and Revisions (The Larry Song by Van McMann.) And well, the song DOES have Larry's name in it, so there may be some truth to that, who knows. This is from Genius: Catfish and the Bottlemen – 7 Lyrics | Genius Lyrics

But as a cover song for Louis, the importance of him singing a song with the name of the relationship he purportedly hates either means he doesn’t hate it or doesn’t care that we speculate about it. He continues to sing the song even with all the speculation.

Just saying the word Larry onstage over 100 times, for me, is proof enough that he doesn't hate it. Is it proof they are together? No. Definitely not proof they are together. It's just one thing in a long list of things that hint at their relationship. He chose that song from literally thousands of songs he could have covered.

I think proof is a slippery slope. We don't really have definitive proof of their relationship, because they are still closeted. I wrote a blog post last year explaining why I think they are still together.

I hope this was helpful.

[door]

8, 19, 22 💜

hiiiiiii pal (end of year asks here!)

8. Game of the year?

Unironically Powerwash Simulator. i think i technically started playing it at the end of 2023, but for the amount of time i poured into it in 2024 it’s gotta go here. the gameplay is perfect imo but the amount of plot, humor, and joy they’ve packed into a game which is 100% powerwashing is incredible. it helped me through a lot of grief and a lot of anxiety and, when paired with an edible, becomes the ideal meditative experience for my brain.

19. What’re you excited about for next year?

A lot of stuff!! Moving into my house and decorating it! i am going to be doing some exciting traveling and seeing a LOT of folks i love. focusing on bright things for my 40th trip around the sun.

22. Favorite place you visited this year?

predictably, a weird house! i went to gloucester, massachusetts specifically to visit Beauport, the Sleeper-McCann House. i had an hour-long tour and found out after that they also give 2-hour long tours, which i wish i’d known because they were physically shoving me out of every room. Beauport was build in the early 20th century by Henry Sleeper, who became what we would think of as an interior decorator, and used the house as a showpiece. He continued to build onto it until he literally ran out of space, so it’s a warren of little rooms and passageways, and each room is never what you expect it to be, but always interesting and deliberate. sleeper was almost certainly queer, which definitely added to the appeal for me, queer architecture enthusiast. you can take a virtual tour of Beauport here.

[omegaremix]

Omega Radio for December 31, 2012-January 1, 2013; #5.

12/31/12 (Soul-Glo Bistro)

Billy Paul “Mrs. Jones”

Ronnie Foster “Mystic Brew”

Soul Children “Move Over”

Isley Brothers, The “Footsteps In The Dark”

Kool & The Gang “Winter Sadness”

Jim Gilstrap “Move Me”

Tribe “Koke (Part I & II)”

Johnny Guitar Watson “Superman Lover”

Marvin Gaye “After The Dance” (INS)

Rotary Connection “Memory Band”

Deineice Williams “Free”

Ramp “Daylight”

Jon Lucien “A Sunny Day”

Bobby Lyle “Night Breeze”

Eddie Henderson “Involuntary Bliss”

Roy Ayers Ubiquity “Time And Space”

Lonnie Liston Smith & The Cosmic Echoes “Expansions”

Ramsey Lewis “Sun Goddess”

Ronnie Laws “Tidal Wave”

Delegation “Oh, Honey”

Les McCann “Flow With The Feeling”

Donny Hathaway “Singing This Song To You”

1/1/13 (Street FM)

O.C. “Time’s Up”

Nas “Life Is Like A Dice Game” (demo)

Ultramagnetic MC’s “Raise It Up”

Boogie Down Productions “Duck Down”

Eric B & Rakim “Know The Ledge”

Lord Finesse “Return Of The Funkyman”

A Tribe Called Quest “We Got The Jazz”

Double XX Posse “Headcracker, The”

Grimm Teachaz “I Getz”

Gang Starr “Mass Appeal”

Organized Konfusion “Why?”

Miilkbone “Keep It Real”

Da King & I “Krak The Weasel”

Scientifik “Lawton”

Q Ball & Curt Cazal “Makin’ Moves” (Smooth VER)

Mic Geronimo “Shit’s Real” (RMX)

YG’s “Groove On”

Funkdoobiest “Dedicated”

Erule “Listen Up”

Mad Skillz “The Nod Factor”

Mad Fam “Dad”

Mood “Hustle On The Side”

Stezo “Bop Ya Headz”

Smoothe Da Hustler f. Trigger Tha Gambler "Broken Language"

AZ f. Nas “Essence”

Wu-Tang Clan, The “Careful (Click, Click)”

RZA “Tragedy”

Big L “Flamboyant”

Lord Tariq & Peter Gunz “This Cold World”

Reflection Eternal “Good Mourning”

Arsonists “Pyromaniax”

Company Flow “Simian D”

K-Otix “Better”

Peanut Butter Wolf f. Planet Asia & Madlib “The Definition Of Ill”

Cannibal Ox “Iron Galaxy”

Solitair “Easy To Slip”

Slum Village f. Old Dirty Bastard “Flexible” (VER)

R.A. Tha Rugged Man “Lessons”

Lo-Down Clique “Mad Fright Night”

Kool Keith / Dr. Octagon “Takin’ It Back”

Yak Ballz “Queens Life”

Sway & King Tech “Enough Beef”

Blaq Poet “Hood Talk”

Black Star “You Already Knew”

Bonus five-hour 'New Year's' broadcast; jazz, fusion, soul, golden-era hip-hop and rap.

[vanmccannsfridge]

another van edit! blu shirt boy!

[your-divine-ribs]

Kinktober ❤️ Cheat

"Bet you wish I could fuck you right here, right now... bend you over this table and take you in front of everyone."

Words: 2.1k // Red Van // exhibitionism

Kinktober Masterlist Main Masterlist

"Do you have a reservation for tonight?" The waiter steps forward, polite smile on his face as he waits for your answer.

"Yes," you say hesitantly, your cheeks flaming as you nervously glance around the packed hotel restaurant. "It's McCann, table for two."

"Ah yes," the waiter replies, index finger sliding down the reservation diary then tapping on a handwritten entry. "Mr and Mrs McCann, table number 15... right this way please. Your husband's waiting for you."

The lies were killing you, even the ones you told to complete strangers, an unsuspecting waiter at this posh hotel who you'd probably never see again. You'd sworn you'd finish it, this illicit fling with your boyfriend's best friend, but yet here you were... sneaking around shamelessly on a 'date night'... the object of your desire just too tempting to turn away from.

You spot him straight away, sitting at a booth tucked away at the back of the room. He's reclined back looking relaxed while you're a bag of nerves, one arm stretched around the back of the seating which slips down over your shoulder as you take your seat in the booth next to him.

"Why the hell did you have to go and book it under that name?" You hiss at him, irritated that your concerns are met with a wide easy grin.

He just shakes his head, unconcerned. "No one knows us here do they? I just thought it'd be nice to pretend... just for one night..."

"Oh so you want to act like a happily married couple then?" You scoff, bristling as you grab for a menu, hoping a glass of something dry and chilled might help to smooth away the edges of your prickly nerves, jolting when you feel a warm hand alight on your upper thigh.

"Yeah... and why not? It's just one night. Let's forget about all the guilt and the sneaking around, just enjoy each other's company without having to look over our shoulders all the time. What d'ya say?"

He smiles at you like it's the most natural thing in the world, the two of you being here in a restaurant booked for a romantic meal for two... and that's just the thing... despite your nerves and guilt it does feel natural. Being with Van just feels right. You hate yourself for feeling that way but you can't deny it.

He orders a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc and you giggle as he mispronounces the name, his fingers jabbing playfully in your side as you tease him before they return to your leg, higher up this time. You feel yourself relaxing, the familiarity of his touch as his fingers flex against your thigh,  chasing away your anxiety.

"I love this dress, you look gorgeous in it. Is it new?" His hand wanders higher, catching the silky fabric and rubbing it between his fingers, exposing your upper thigh.

"Uh-huh, bought it specially for tonight," you tell him, a warm glow filling you as you feel the excitement that's been building for days radiate through your body. "Thought you'd like it."

You nestle closer into his side as the waiter arrives with the wine and you place your order. It's been a long time coming, being able to spend time together just the two of you. It's wrong and immoral and you're sure you're destined to burn in the fires of hell for all eternity for your infidelity but maybe Van's right, maybe it would be nice just to pretend for one night. You can worry about the consequences tomorrow.

"You look beautiful love, but you don't need fancy clothes to impress me. You do know that don't ya?"

You just smile seductively at him, easing your legs slightly apart under the table. "Oh I know, you're more impressed with no clothes... am I right?" You lean over to murmur quietly into his ear as he chuckles. "That's why I'm not wearing any panties..."

"Fuckin' hell Y/N," he gulps, eyes bulging, laugh cut short. "You do realise we're definitely not gonna make it through three courses now you've told me that don't ya?"

It's addictive, the fiery chemistry that sparks between the two of you, the way your body reacts to his presence, the ease with which you can rile him up. You've never been this daring sexually before but you're wild around him, pushing the boundaries, risk the most powerful of aphrodisiacs.

Your starters arrive and they look delicious but you only manage to pick at them. Van has one hand under the table whilst you eat, his fingertips just lightly brushing your inner thigh, a teasing journey that inches slowly towards your aching heat. He can't take his eyes off you, keenly watching your reactions as he makes your breath catch again and again.

"Open your legs for me babe," he says in a low tone and you do as instructed. "Wanna make ya feel good."

The thought of being fingered here in public in the middle of a busy restaurant makes your heart pound and your veins course with adrenaline. As his fingers reach up to brush against your folds you gasp out loud, disguising it with a cough and a sip of wine.

"I can't believe what you're doing to me in public!" You whisper, face scarlet as a seeking finger quickly locates your clit, brushing over it lightly, making you squirm. "Can't you wait?"

"No I can't and don't pretend like you want me to either," he grins back at you salaciously, picking up his wine in his free hand. "Naked under your dress like that? You wanted this you dirty girl so don't act so shocked. You love the thought of sitting here acting all innocent whilst I'm finger-fucking you under the table. You get off on it, admit it.”

"Van!" You hiss loudly, embarrassment flooding you from the roots of your hair down to the tips of your toes which are curling in the confines of your pretty strappy stiletto heels.

"You love it don't ya?" He mutters in muted tones, a fingertip dragging masterfully over your clit as he causally takes a sip of his wine. "Bet you wish I could fuck you right here, right now... bend you over this table and take you in front of everyone. Make you moan my name out loud so the whole room knows exactly who it is that makes you feel so good. Want me to make you come babe? Want me to make you come in front of all these people?"

"Keep your voice down for god’s sake!” You plead, eyes darting about to see if you've drawn anyone's attention.

Of course to everyone else you just look like any other couple here, young and in love enjoying a romantic meal for two, so enamoured of each other that you can't bear to be apart, sitting so close together there's not a inch gap between your two bodies. They don't know the real truth, the sleazy affair you're engaged in, the sneaking and the lying and the conniving lengths you two will go to just to get your sordid kicks.

"You're fucking dripping love," he chuckles lowly, satisfaction evident in the cocky smirk plastered across his face as he runs a finger up and down your slit before slowly pushing inside.

You purse your lips together to suppress a moan as he curls his finger upwards, his hand twisting so he can press his thumb against your clit. He's right, you're already slick with excitement, the rush of being pleasured in public unbeknownst to all these people firing you up.

You try to act unbothered even though you can feel the pleasure mounting, that blissful pressure pulling everything up tight inside like a ticking time bomb ready to explode. You reach for your fork, digging it in your starter, trying to clear your mind but it's impossible. He's just too good at this, his fingertip rubbing up against that mind numbing spot deep inside that makes your jaw fall agape and your eyes roll back in your skull.

"Shit," you choke out, dropping your fork which lands on to your plate with a noisy clatter. Heat rises up your body, your cheeks glowing like a furnace as a middle-aged couple glance over and you shoot them an awkward apologetic kind of smile.

"I can't do this Van, I can't come quietly, it feels too good."

You look at him with pleading eyes, trying to snap your legs shut but that doesn't deter him. He pinches at your swollen clit, the sharp pressure nearly sending you through the roof as he leans right over to whisper in your ear.

"You can do it babe, just keep your eyes on me, breathe through it. I know you're close, can feel you clenching. Can feel your legs starting to shake."

You do as instructed, shifting all your attention to him, looking deep into his eyes, trying to block out the rest of the room. It doesn't help that you can hear the obscene squelch of his fingers plunging into your slick over the background chatter and hum of the restaurant. The pace of his fingers feels euphoric now, hard and fast, the heel of his hand catching your clit just right at every thrust. You feel like you're going to shatter into a million pieces.

"I'm so close," you utter, white knuckling the edge of the booth as he hones in on your most sensitive spot, his drenched fingers rubbing tiny concentrated circles on your bud, your hips rocking in tiny waves under the cover of the tablecloth.

"I know you are," he murmurs, that self-assured tone you used to hate so much that now just makes you want to launch yourself at him and rip his clothes off. "I want you to be a good girl and come for me. Want you to make a mess all over my fingers. C'mon baby, I wanna feel it, let it go."

That tips you over the edge and you fall hard and fast, one hand gripping the table and the other grasping his forearm, your body quaking as your cunt spasms with wave after wave of earth-shattering pleasure. A high-pitched whine threatens to break forth so you bury your face in his shoulder, biting down hard on it, making him hiss.

"Shit babe... that feel good huh?" He chuckles, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, jeans strained and tight at watching you fall apart.

You've lost the power of speech, feeling his fingers slip out of you as you mutter incoherently into the material of his shirt, trying to compose yourself as a loud male voice suddenly booms out from nearby, making you jolt in surprise.

"Is everything okay Madam? Would you like me to fetch you a glass of water perhaps?"

Your head snaps up in an instant to meet the concerned eyes of the waiter who took your order and you straighten up quickly, smoothing down your dress and tucking your hair behind your ears.

"Errr... yes... yes please, that would be nice... thank you. It's a little... errr... warm in here, I just came over a little faint, that's all."

You stumble over your words, willing the fire in your cheeks to subside as you make a show of fanning yourself with a hand. Van's there in your peripheral vision, huge shit-eating grin etched into his smug face as he bites back the urge to laugh. You squeeze his thigh under the table, hard, willing him to display some sort of composure before you collapse into giggles yourself.

"Right away Madam," the waiter replies, his professional demeanour just making it harder to keep a straight face. Then he turns to Van, eyeing his plate of food which has barely been touched. "And you Sir, is everything okay? Did the food meet your expectations?"

Van just smiles, and you watch, gobsmacked as he licks at the fingers he's just been pleasuring you with, a look of intense enjoyment on his face. "Well the first course was delicious, but I think me and the wife might order room service for the rest of the meal. I've got a suite booked for tonight."

Your eyes nearly pop out of your head and your mouth falls agape. "B... but you never told me you'd booked a room?"

"Sorry darlin'," he grins, standing and reaching for your hand as you take it and rise up on shaky legs. "It must have slipped my mind... shall we?"

[stranger-marauders]

unbreakable

four: modern love

chapter summary: When someone forgets to pick her up from work, Kate makes other plans to go home for the night.

chapter warnings: language, steve being a bad friend

word count: 3.7k

series masterlist | masterlist

AFTER A FEW hours of talking, reading, and digging through the records at the bookstore, Kate and Jamie finally closed up for the night.

Work wasn’t so bad whenever Jamie was there, especially when everyone in Hawkins seemingly forgot that the little bookstore on Main Street existed. They got enough business from the occasional person who walked in to buy ten books that the constant flow of cash into the store wasn’t an issue. It gave them an opportunity to ransack the place once they’d restocked it, letting them dig through even the new records and cassettes they’d started selling more recently.

Currently, she was shuffling through the new releases box. 

“There’s nothing in there, promise,” Jamie said, coming up behind her as she shuffled through cassettes. “Unless you haven’t listened to Genesis yet.”

She scoffed. “I’ve obviously listened to Genesis. I even listened to Bob Dylan’s new thing. I just wanted something, you know?”

He shrugged knowingly in response, humming a laugh whenever he picked up What a Feelin’. “And this is what you were looking for?”

“Hell no,” she replied, laughing as she put away the cassette. “Since when have I struck you as an Irene Cara fan?”

He gave her a look of fake surprise. “Wait, you aren’t?”

She rolled her eyes as he chuckled. “Oh my God, shut up.”

“I don’t know, you give me serious Flashdance fan vibes—”

“Jamie, stop!” she replied, shoving him slightly as he laughed even harder. “That is so not funny.”

“No, it absolutely is.”

She rolled her eyes, moving to behind the counter. “Yeah, no, it’s not. I’m already annoyed because there’s nothing good out, and then you accuse me of being a fucking Flashdance fan? That shit’s brutal.”

Jamie gasped dramatically. “Did you just curse on company property?”

She shrugged. “Sue me.”

“Mr. McCann just might.”

Kate, however, didn’t seem to have a care in the world. “Whatever. Let me know when Queen or Fleetwood Mac releases a new album.”

“Of course.”

One of the benefits of their new addition of merchandise was that Kate always knew in advance when albums by her favorite artists, such as Queen and Fleetwood Mac (which most definitely included Stevie Nicks’s discography as well), were coming out. It was something she hadn’t taken light of in years, mostly because they would sell out so fast in Hawkins. Jamie always seemed to keep an eye out for any of them too, just in case something shipped in on her day off.

By the time their shift was over and they’d closed up shop, Kate found her ride was about twenty minutes late, and that was if he was coming at all. Jamie stood outside with her, wanting to make sure she wasn’t left behind.

She couldn’t say she was surprised. It wasn’t like this was a first-time offense, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. Steve had always promised her that he would be there for her, but when he couldn’t even remember to pick her up from a shift that he’d told her not five hours ago he could pick her up from, she couldn’t begin to believe it was true. Now she was stuck out in the cold waiting for a ride that would probably never come.

Kate had told herself for years that walking home alone was better than dealing with her father alone in the car for fifteen minutes. Realistically, if she called, he wouldn’t have answered anyway: he was probably half a twelve-pack deep and watching some old Western or watching Magnum P.I., near close to falling asleep on the couch. She didn’t dare want to interrupt his nightly activities, especially if there was a chance he had already passed out for the night.

“You want me to take you home?” Jamie finally offered, putting his hands in his pockets. “I mean, I don’t mind if Harrington’s busy.”

“N–No, don’t worry about it. It’s completely out of the way,” she quickly explained. “I don’t want you to have to do that just because he forgot again.” She paused. “I’m… I’m sure he’ll be here in a couple minutes, anyway.”

“But what if he doesn’t? I don’t want you walking home by yourself again,” he said, frowning slightly.

“I’m a big girl, I’ll manage.”

He chuckled. “No, trust me, it’s not that. I just… don’t want you to get kidnapped or something.”

“Kidnapped? Since when are there kidnappers in Hawkins?” she asked, stifling a laugh. “Trust me, I’ll live. Even if I did get kidnapped, I’m sure they would immediately get tired of me. Like, they would throw me out of the van before they could even get to Indianapolis.”

Whenever they both chuckled, Jamie spoke again. “I’m serious, though, I don’t mind. It’s ridiculous he makes you wait out here whenever it’s so cold.”

Kate avoided his gaze, sighing as the cold nipped her face and hands. “It’s okay, I’m fine. Seriously. You can go home, Jamie.”

He shrugged before turning to his car, beginning to attempt to unlock his car.

On nights like this, Kate would just tell Jamie that he was probably running late, then would walk home by herself once he left her behind. She didn’t want to bother anyone, nor did she want anyone to go out of their way for her. It wasn’t like there was anyone else to take her home normally. She wasn’t going to ask her dad, and she could only assume that Steve was with that girl Nancy right now, completely forgetting about his best friend once again for the sake of a girl he would forget about next week. On impulse, Kate decided it was much too cold to walk tonight.

“Hey, Jamie!” she said, watching him as he opened his car door.

“Yeah?”

She hesitated. “You still up for that ride?”

He only smiled.

Before taking Kate home, Jamie took her through Burger Chef, and they’d both sat in his car, parked in one of the random lots on the way to her place. 

The last time she’d been alone with him was during Homecoming a few weeks ago whenever they’d gone together. Steve had asked whatever random girl he’d been trying to get with at the time to go with him, leaving her without a date. At first, she wasn’t going to go, but Jamie hadn’t been able to go with anyone either. While it wasn’t a date, per se, especially not in Kate’s eyes, it certainly was an opportunity to get to know him better. 

Now, though, she didn’t exactly know what this was.

She couldn’t get Steve’s words from earlier out of her head. Kate wouldn’t have ever thought that Jamie had feelings for her until Steve had said something to her. Realistically, she just thought that they were good friends, or at least he was a good friend to her. That’s why he got her coffee, hid copies of books and cassettes for her that she wanted, tried to make her laugh… right? She had no clue.

Maybe Jamie did kind of like her. Only a little bit, though.

“You need to start coming in at five instead of six, because that first hour is killing me,” Kate finally said. When he laughed, she scoffed. “I’m not kidding! Mr. Novak came in and talked my head off about World War II books for twenty minutes and it was horrendous. Literally terrible.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes, so please for the love of God, ask to come in earlier. I cannot handle shit like that without some backup.”

Jamie stifled a laugh. “Yeah, if you could get all your athlete buddies to study more, maybe I wouldn’t be stuck at school until five o’clock.”

“All right, first of all, they’re not my friends, they just know me because of Steve,” she said defensively. “Also, that’s literally impossible. You know how long I’ve been trying to get Steve to study?” She went on whenever he shot her an expectant look. “Years. Literal years, Jamie, and it hasn’t happened yet. I can guarantee you these guys are scraping by just enough to stay on the team and graduate.”

“Oh, yeah, I’d buy that.”

“At least you’re doing something to help them, I guess,” Kate said. “I could never tutor them like that. I think it would physically pain me.”

He shrugged. “It’s not so bad. I think it helps some of them out, you know? Not everyone’s as much of a fucking genius as you are. We gotta study hard and hope for the best.”

“All right, genius is definitely pushing it. I just study a lot.”

“Kate, stop it. You’re literally one of the smartest people I’ve ever met.” He paused, pressing his lips together to suppress a laugh. “Even if you don’t like it when grouchy old men ask you about the World War II books.”

When Kate laughed, shaking her head, he smiled. She thought about what Steve had said earlier again whenever Jamie caught her eye again. She hadn’t ever really thought about him in the romantic way, and she certainly didn’t know how to determine if he did have feelings for her or not. She knew that he was a good friend of hers, and he knew her well. She didn’t think that meant that they had to date or anything, because people could be good friends without romantic attraction just like her and Steve, but she hadn’t really thought about him that way. 

She tried to shake the thought of it, but she couldn’t. The more she tried to block it out, the more and more the thoughts flooded her mind.

“Hey, Kate?” Jamie finally asked, snagging her attention again.

She turned to him, her expression soft. “Yeah?”

“Why don’t we do stuff like this more often?”

“Like what?”

He shrugged. “You know, hang out outside of work. Do something other than work. I feel like I don’t even see you at school.”

“Oh. I, uh… I don’t know,” she answered, fidgeting with the blue hair tie on her wrist. “I just don’t want to waste your time.”

“What are you talking about? You could never waste my time.”

She laughed once hollowly. “Right, yeah, totally. It’s not like I made you take me home, buy me food, and potentially get home much later than you normally would.”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. Consider it my treat.”

She sighed, taking the last French fry of hers. “Fine.” After a moment or two, a wave of excitement quickly washed over her. “Oh my God, I almost forgot to ask. When’s that shipment of Pet Sematary coming in? Do you know? Please tell me you know, I’m, like, really worried about it.”

“Sunday morning,” he replied. “Mr. McCann already asked me if I’d unload it all for him. I can pull a copy for you if you want me to.”

She smiled even more excitedly. “Really? Thank… Thank you so much. I cannot tell you how much that means to me, I’ve been waiting for weeks.”

“Yeah, I know. You and Stephen King.” He paused, meeting her eyes for only a moment. “Seriously, though, I meant what I said. We should do this more often.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. This has been, like… really good.” Jamie caught her eyes again, moving closer to her. He cupped her face with his hand before he spoke again. “We should do this again sometime, you know?”

Kate nodded as knots twisted in her stomach. For a moment, she panicked slightly—she knew what was coming next. For once in his life, Steve had been absolutely, horrifically correct, and now Kate was reaping the consequences of it. Her heart rate rapidly increased the closer his lips got to hers. 

Whenever he was mere inches away from her, she pulled back at the last second. “I should probably be getting back.”

Jamie pulled back, dropping his hand from her face. She couldn’t decipher if the look on his face leaned more toward disappointment or confusion. “What?”

“My dad, he’s… he’ll flip his shit. I–It’s getting late, you know?”

He looked at his watch, his eyes widening whenever he realized the time. “Oh shit, yeah, it is.” He quickly cranked the car engine, the radio coming on with it. “Y–Yeah, I’ll take you home.”

“Thanks.”

As he gave a tight-lipped smile in return, Jamie wondered that if he were Steve Harrington, Kate wouldn’t have hesitated to kiss him.

Jamie liked to act like he didn’t see Kate at school, but he certainly wasn’t as ignorant as he let on to be. While sure, he was a year ahead of Steve and Kate in school, that didn’t mean that Jamie still didn’t hear about any time Steve Harrington quite possibly breathed in the direction of someone else, never mind when he walked around with Kate the way he did.

He’d heard the rumors for years, and he’d had to try and act like he didn’t care when Steve had his arm around her in the hallway, making her smile and laugh the way he did. Jamie, however, had to respect what Kate had told him since he had found out that she was best friends with him, and he would never feel any other way about that situation.

He didn’t hate Steve, not in the slightest. He could only hope that Kate truly did like him as a friend and nothing more.

Kate gave Jamie a very short goodbye before jumping out of his car.

Her stomach churned just at the thought of walking through the front door of the trailer. She’d been dreading going home for hours, but now it was even worse because she was getting home so late. Whenever she got far enough into the driveway, though, that fear quickly morphed into something else—her father’s SUV wasn’t in the driveway. When she’d gotten inside after checking the mail and hadn’t found her father attempting to drown herself in alcohol, watching the television until he inevitably fell asleep on the couch, she’d begun to worry for other reasons.

At first, she told herself he probably just got held up at the station. Maybe he was at the bar downtown, enjoying himself with… someone? Maybe he was hooking up with a younger woman again (Hopper loved to act like his daughter didn’t know about those even though she most definitely knew), and this time he forgot to leave a note saying that he’d be back tomorrow. Whatever it was, Kate told herself it was probably nothing. Her father would find his way home somehow, because no matter what, he always did.

She sighed as she set her bag down on their dining room table turned dumpsite, shuffling through the mail. Nothing of importance, thank God. She quickly retreated into her room, even though no one was home except for her. She needed to do something other than worry about her father’s presumably unimportant mail.

After Sara died, Kate found herself in a whirlwind of emotions: nervous, sad, lonely, empty, and all the other feelings that occurred when experiencing grief. At the time, she had run herself ragged trying to find something to do to make the pain go away, or at least temporarily relieve it. Of course, one of those things had been reading. She couldn’t think of a time she’d been without a book, especially not since Sara passed away. It certainly helped explain why she had that enormous bookcase in her room that just about had books falling out of it now—and no, Kate was not going to get rid of any of her books as she had explained to Steve and her father both at least a hundred times.

As the night progressed, her father still out for the night, Kate decided to do something other than read (after finishing her homework, of course). 

Kate had always loved writing. She couldn’t remember when she’d started to pick it up, but she did remember how much she liked it, even in elementary school. Something about being able to synthesize one’s own story, one’s thoughts—she liked having complete control over her stories because that was something that she hadn’t yet experienced in her own life. 

While no one was home to distract her, she’d decided to pull out her notebook hidden in between her mattress and her bed frame, continuing to write in her journal just where she’d left off. She didn’t like to work when her father was home, never mind when anyone else was at the trailer, partially because she didn’t want to have to explain what she was doing to anyone.

It was something of a funny situation, really. Writing had been one of the only things that truly made her feel something since Sara’s death. Besides, she hadn’t been too good at anything else, so it proved as something to do for herself. She didn’t want anyone to read her work, mostly because she didn’t think it was quite good enough for an audience other than herself for the time being. 

What made it odd was that she hadn’t really considered doing anything else with her life, at least not as seriously as she had considered writing as a career path. She knew it was something she’d want to pursue in the feature. The idea that always kept her going, something she always had looked forward to: college. Since she’d been thirteen, all she had wanted to do was go to New York University. 

That was something she hadn’t told too many people in her life. She knew it sounded silly, especially because of her circumstances. Chances were it would be too expensive for her to go to NYU, or her father wouldn’t let her go, or any other reason that could quite possibly come up just to seemingly crush her dreams. She couldn’t, however, stop herself from dreaming about that school.

It wasn’t like NYU was anything to scoff at. Even though she hated telling people she intended to go for creative writing, she knew the school itself had a good creative writing program, and that certainly was something to look forward to. Besides, NYU was home; it was hundreds of miles away from the hellhole that was Hawkins, Indiana.

Even though Diane still lived in New York City, Kate supposed it was still a large enough area where she would never see her mother, even if she wanted to find her. She couldn’t think of a single reason that would make her want to contact her mother ever again. She didn’t want to see her ever again, and she wasn’t ever planning on it.

At least, that was what she could hope for.

At a quarter to eleven, Kate had finally decided enough was enough and called the station.

Normally if she called late at night, certainly around a time like this, one of the night officers would answer the phone, maybe McKinney or Barnett. As the line rang, she tapped her foot impatiently. She was completely surprised whenever Flo, the station’s secretary, answered the phone.

Florence Kelly, better known as Flo, had dealt with Kate’s late-night worrying since she and her father had moved to Hawkins. Kate didn’t like to bother her, certainly not whenever it was late at night like it was now. Whenever she called the station, she didn’t think that she would be the one to answer. Flo normally didn’t stay past six, never mind until past midnight. When she heard her voice on the other end of the line, she immediately felt confused.

“Hawkins Police Department.”

“Hey, Flo, it’s Kate,” she replied quickly, concern lacing her voice. “Have you, uh… Have you heard from my dad? He’s never home later than this without a warning, at least, or something.”

Flo sighed. Even before she spoke, Kate could figure out something was wrong. Her heart rate immediately started to pick up. “Don’t you worry, he’s all right. There’s just a… There’s a missing boy. Joyce Byers’s youngest? Your father’s leading a search party for him tonight. I don’t know when he’ll be home, but he’s safe.”

Kate hesitated. She didn’t know what to ask for clarification first. A missing boy in Hawkins? She hadn’t ever heard of such a thing. While sure, there had been the occasional small-town devastation (for example, the Creel family murders in the fifties), not much else had ever happened to Hawkins, and that was the only reason Kate hadn’t ever lost her mind living there. Hawkins was a sleepy town, and she was perfectly all right with that. “Search party?”

“I’ll be sure to let him know you called, sweetheart.”

She half-sighed. Flo was edging her off the line just in case someone called with information. “All right, thanks, Flo. Talk to you later.”

Flo hung up the phone after a quick goodbye, presumably going on to another task that had something to do with the newly assigned Byers case. 

Now that Kate had the comfort of knowing that her father hadn’t driven himself into a ditch, she should have been fine. In fact, it was quiet in the house, and she had absolutely nothing to do: in theory, she should have been able to go to bed. However, she still couldn’t go to sleep without knowing if he was okay or not. Truly okay, and that meant seeing him with her own eyes. 

As she lay in bed now, she tried clearing her mind but could only think about the small town of Hawkins that she’d called home for the past four and a half years. Never once in her life had anything happened nearly this significant in town, not that she could remember. Questions fired around her mind at a hundred miles an hour, questions about the boy, Hawkins itself; it made her heart rate bounce through the roof. Nothing like this had ever happened in Hawkins, ever, and she was sure of it.

She had no idea how much things were going to change.

next chapter

[obrother1976]

can u make like. ur top 10 books. freak books. anything. kisses your brain

sure!! these r not gonna be ranked bc god knows i could never choose between them & also im gonna be annoying and ramble a bit about every one

death in venice by thomas mann (classic. but its so rich w metaphors and symbolism. if you do read it, i'd recommend reading "the uses of myth in death in venice" by isadore traschen afterwards, bc it does a great job explaining all the freudian allegories and mythological symbolism and u'll literally be tearing ur hair out afterwards over how brilliant thomas mann was)

the carnivorous lamb by agustín gómez-arcos (idc that i've already talked about this a gajillion times on here. its literally the best book i've ever read. i'll forever be obsessed and i wish there was literally anything that could ever hit as hard as this did. if u read it, anon (if u havent already) dont go through the carnivorous lamb tag on here bc u need to experience this without any big prior knowledge. trust me)

erotism: death and sensuality by george bataille (ik im just listing the classics atp. but how could i ever leave that one out. this ones a lot and depending on how into bataille & philosophy in general u are it could be too much. but if u havent already read this one anon, just read the introduction. trust me ure gonna loose it from that alone)

gemini by michel tournier (this one... took me ages to get through it on my first read bc of the way its written, but it was so worth it. not even gonna say much about this one - its basically like if twins by bari wood was good lmao)

incest: from a "journal of love": the unexpurgated diary of anais nin, 1932-1934 (or every anais nin diary ever in general, but this one especially. there was just no one that got it quite like she did)

indecent theology: theological perversions in sex, gender and politics by marcella althaus-reid (sorry for literally recommending theory. im pretty sure u were asking for fiction lol, but this (& althaus-reid in general) is everything to me. if u've any interest whatsoever in theology u should check this one out)

the sluts by dennis cooper (slightly controversial opinion i think? not that the book itself is controversial, just that dennis cooper is very hit and miss at times. this book tho, definite hit. its so intense and convoluted and i loved every second of it. read this before death and sensuality and u're guaranteed to think of nothing else for at least a month)

querelle of brest by jean genet ("those knock-out body fluids: blood, sperm, tears!". kind of a classic since theres also the fassbinder movie but i prefer the book tbh. its been a while since i've read it but it'll forever be in my favourites)

crash by j.g. ballard (yeah ik we've all seen crash but i need more ppl to read the book. hold on actually i need to insert one of my favourite bits from it here:

Reaching through the fractured windshields and passenger windows around me, I marked my semen on the oily instrument panels and binnacles, touching these wound areas at their most deformed points.)

ada, or ardor: a family chronicle by vladimir nabokov (one of the most beautiful books i've ever read. probably not the most helpful recommendation bc im pretty sure its a classic but i cant not mention it.)

also some bonus recommendations of books that didnt make the list bc they're either not freak books or bc i havent read them yet:

christopher and his kind by christopher isherwood (not a freak book. not even remotely. but will forever have a special place in my heart.)

the sparrow by maria doria russell (read this one anon!!! this would be on the list, but im not fully finished w it yet so i cant officially put it in my top 10 yet)

exquisite corpse by poppy z. brite (havent read that one yet but its on my list!!)

autobiography of red by anne carson (not a freak book. beautifully written, a work of art really)

as meat loves salt by maria mccann (havent read that one yet. hoping its as good as everyone says)

skagboys by irvine welsh (one thing about me is that i'll always find a way to mention the trainspotting books)

[silverbastardgoldenfool]

22 and 24! 📚

22. Longest book... According to my Storygraph, Assassin's Fate and The Goldfinch are exactly matched at 864 pages lol. Ass Fate destroyed me anew. The Goldfinch didn't measure up to The Secret History for me but I was really attached by the end and it has stuck with me. I read quite a few chonkers this year, I was really gravitating towards that level of detail and immersion. There were actually several shorter books I read this year where I was just like, damn, this would have been so much better if it was longer!!

24. I actually DNF'd more this year than ever before! Only 4 books lol but that's heaps for me, it's usually 1 per year max. I think it was more than usual because I simply read so much more than usual, and also because I have been in my library book club this year and therefore not choosing all my books. The books I didn't finish this year were:

Apeirogon by Colum McCann - this was a book club pick but I was actually shocked at how impossible I found this book to connect to. It's the story of an Israeli father and Palestinian father who have both lost daughters in the conflict. The problem is, it's told in such a disjointed way that I couldn't actually latch onto anything. It was almost more like a long poem, yet the language wasn't poetic enough to be engaging for its own sake. Ultimately I just felt weird reading something so objectively harrowing that somehow made me feel nothing?? I thought it would be better to save that energy for other books that cover this topic with an approach that I connect with more.

The Ninth Hour by Alice McDermott - another book club pick. This was honestly just boring lol. I forced myself through The Underground Railroad in October and promised myself I would DNF the next book club pick if I wasn't vibing with it. I read 50 pages of this and then felt zero desire to pick it back up again so that was that.

The Book of Form and Emptiness by Ruth Ozeki - I found this in a free little library and gave it a shot, but it just wasn't for me. It wasn't bad at all but just didn't grab me.

This is How You Lose the Time War by Max Gladstone and Amal El-Mohtar - I'm so sorry, I know this book is adored by many, but I absolutely clashed with it. I couldn't have cared less that the plot and world building were vague and confusing, I just found the prose to be really ummmmm..... trying not to say cringe so let's say grating lol. I read it because people had raved about the "lyrical" writing and I just. don't get it lol. The writing was giving me like, 2012 Tumblr writing prompt with 20k notes (not to be overly specific or anything). Just very wordy and quirky, but I was NOT feeling the romance or the drama. One of those books where I really feel like I read something completely different to everyone else lol

Honestly my DNF pile is pretty arbitrary, there are books I completed that I definitely should not have and that I feel just as negatively towards (if not more so) as any of the above (eg: the aforementioned Underground Railroad) so it's hard to pin down why exactly I drew the lines with these ones in particular lol, but there ya go ✨️

[soaps-hoe-141]

Drowning In The Depths

Part 9

Pairing: Captain Price x Male!Reader

WC: 12.8k

Synopsis: Smut, getting a bit more Speck lore for those of you who are now invested in this man because honestly same

Warnings: 18+ Smut I mean it's like half of this chapter, I needed to be fed too, mentions of past traumas

Warmth enveloped you in a cocoon of safety, of happiness. Pulling you so deep into the void of your subconscious it felt like you'd never be able to emerge from it again. “Hey Peaches,” your eyes shot around the dark dome of your mind, looking for the source of that name, that voice. The eyes that stared back at you were so familiar, so blue, but they weren’t accompanied by the British accent you’d grown so accustomed to seeing them with lately. He was American and had dark hair with reddish highlights, his face square as was his jaw, with an upturned nose, and freckles dotting every expanse of skin you could see including his neck and shoulders. 

For the first time you saw his face as you originally remembered it, not the burnt husk you’d been forced to stare at for an hour as they dug you out from under that wall. Not the man who had reached for you while he cried and begged for you to have mercy on him. This was the man who had been your best friend through thick and thin. The man who had let you sleep at his apartment that night your wife had locked you out of the house because she thought you'd been staring at another woman. This was your number two, your right hand, and the team jokester.

A hand reached out for him, the desire to touch him slamming into you suddenly, but he backed away from you with a shake of his head and a sorrowful smile. “Sorry boss. I'm here, but I’m not really…here, Peaches,” it hurt to hear that name come out of his mouth again but God if it didn’t make you smile still. The team would never have dared to call you that name on duty, but when yall were just joking around? It was the only name they seemed to ever remember. As if they'd forgotten you were their boss and would have them running laps the next day until they puked. Peaches, Peach, Peachy, as many forms of that name as they could come up with. All because they’d walked in on you eating a peach one damn time after you’d just gotten out of the shower with a towel around your waist.

Your head tilted and a smile found your mouth as you nodded in understanding, “Figured as much McCann. A man can dream though can’t he?” The other man gave you a full mouthed smile then, teeth and everything. You'd really missed that damn smile these last couple years. McCann’s hands shoved into his pockets as he rocked forward on the balls of his feet and then back on his heels. How did he look so carefree even though he knew he was dead? Hell that was just McCann though, always smiling and itching for a good time.

His shoulders shrugged before he answered in his typical joking tone, “That’s exactly what you’re doing right now, isn’t it boss?” Your eyes darted around the dark expanse of the void of your consciousness before you nodded your agreement. You hadn't realized it until he pointed it out but yeah, you were definitely asleep right now. McCann’s head moved a bit to catch your attention again though before he said, “It has been a while though, hasn’t it?” You nodded again, your smile falling from your lips at the thought before he continued, “It’s ok though.” Inspecting his form closely your head tilted in question as you watched him glance behind you before he added, “Everything’s great boss. Me and the boys are happy, even Xena,” a bark accompanied that and you turned around quickly, surprise evident in your expression.

The warmth that had been encompassing your body dissipated slowly, but the safety remained. Wherever you were you knew you were going to be ok until that warmth returned. Especially when the Malinois reared back on her hind legs and her front paws found your chest. Nearly twelve years old her face was gray and her body had matured, rounding her belly a bit more than when you had first been introduced to her. But Xena still had the boundless energy of a puppy, tail going a mile a minute as you reached for her head but even as you pet it you felt nothing. It chilled your body even quicker as you realized there wasn't any kind of feeling to accompany her, not even as her tongue ran over the skin of your chin.

There was no pressure or warmth of a body touching you, only the sight that your hand was on her face. Before you could dwell on the fact that her paws felt weightless against you though, she was bounding off behind McCann, circling around him to sit at his side facing you with her tongue out as she panted. “Good to hear, Ryan,” the smile on the man in front of you widened at the name. You’d always melted at that smile and it was no different now, “Can I ask you a question though?” His brows rose before he nodded, his head tilting curiously, “What are you doin here, man? I mean it's been two years, kinda late to give me the 'Wasn't your fault, boss'" you mimicked him nearly perfectly as you continued, "Don’t you think?” McCann’s smile seemed to falter then, a look of confusion sweeping over his face.

Did he not know? How could he not know? Please don't make me have to tell him he's dead. “Well, boss," he let out a sigh, "You haven’t exactly thought about us in two years have you? Not since we died,” the deadpan way he said it made your jaw clench painfully. So he did know then, your question had just upset him, or maybe annoyed him. McCann shrugged before that crooked smile found his face again, his joking tone returning a second later, “We knew you’d get there eventually though Peaches. Just didn’t think it would take that long. Guess we should have known though, you were always the type to box it all up for later, weren't you?” You swallowed hard and took a step closer, this time he didn’t back away though, his body steady in front of you.

McCann stood less than a foot away, a few inches shorter than you with that crooked smile beaming up at you without a care in the world. “I’m sorry,” you forced the words out in a cracking voice and the smile before you softened at the sound. You cleared your throat and forced out even more, "It never should have been you, you were always the one that was supposed to get home." That dark haired head tilted, as did the furry one sitting beside him.

His hand found your shoulder and again you felt nothing, no warmth, no pressure, not even when he squeezed your shoulder. It was painful to realize even if he was here, dream or something else, you'd never feel that warm, friendly touch again. Your eyes focused back on his light blue hues before he said, "It was never your fault, boss. It sucked, yeah. I mean it well and truly sucked, but it happens sometimes. War's a bitch man, and eventually it gets us all. It'll even get you one day too, just a matter of when and where, bossman," you let out a pent up breath and nodded back to him. He wasn't wrong, he rarely ever was. McCann might have put on the clown shoes everyday but he was one of the most intelligent operators you had ever seen and had the pleasure to work with.

When he stepped closer to you you nearly backed away, he'd been your best friend in life. While you had always wanted more you never would have dared to betray the wedding vows you took, no matter how you felt about the woman you'd been pressured into marrying. So when his hand cupped your face it shocked you, your mouth opening in surprise and not only because he was rubbing a roughened thumb over your cheek but because you could feel it. It was like he was actually there. Warmth was flooding your body again, the safe haven you'd found the night before had returned it seemed.

McCann leaned forward, his lips pressing against yours in a gentle kiss before he pulled back. You stood there shocked, brows in your hairline and jaw hanging slack. It wasn't him, logically you knew that, your chance with McCann had long since passed. But you'd felt something right then, some kind of tenderness from a human body. A body you were growing to know very well too, those were John's lips you'd just felt.

When you focused back on Ryan he was watching you curiously. That crooked smile was on his mouth again as he joked, "Are ya really that eager there Peaches?" Your head tilted questioningly and his eyes traveled down, staring at the tent in the jeans you were currently wearing. Shifting awkwardly on your feet you huffed a bit and reached down to cover yourself, but he stopped you before you could. "Let me help you with that, boss," he palmed at you through the fabric and you sighed at the sensation. At the thought of him doing anything to you down there.

His hands worked quickly on the buttons and the zipper, pulling at the waistband of your jeans and the underwear beneath it with hurried fingers. Those blue eyes were staring at the tent before flicking back up to find you. Asking you a silent question you weren't sure you knew the answer to. Your subconscious was playing cruel tricks on your mind, and you shut your eyes for a moment, trying to clear your head so you could think. "No," the words came out before you had a chance to really even consider them. And while you rushed the first time you firmly stated it again, "No Ryan. I can't."

McCann's gaze was already on you when you managed to finally look down at him again. His hands wrapped around the bones of your hips as he watched you. "Our timing was always terrible, Peaches. Makes sense we keep the same theme even when I'm dead right?" Pain lanced through your heart at his statement. Hearing him talk so easily about it was enough to nearly send you into the same state you'd been in yesterday. The man leaned into you for a moment, hands still on your hips as he asked, "Does the Brit make you happy at least?" More shock found your expression and you watched that crooked smile spread over his face turning into a cocky grin you remembered so well.

Slowly though you answered him, "He…" John's face flashed in your mind, his little chuckles, his quiet smiles and smirks, the beanie he'd worn at the bar the night you'd first talked to him. It was the little things that brought a smile to your face. Things you doubted he'd even remember, but you did. They stuck in your mind like a glue trap. It was the little things you'd never had before that were what you always thought about. Sure the memory of the amazing sex was nice, but it wasn't just about the sex. Not for you anyway.

A nod finally had your head bobbing as you beamed a smile down at the dark haired man in front of you, "He does yeah. At least I think he does, I've never really felt like this before so I think that's what this is. He's stubborn and fuckin annoying sometimes sure. And Lord does he make me feel good. Ryan, I haven't been this happy in…" Your sentence trailed off slowly as you thought and then finally managed, "Ever." God that was sad. Even when you'd been happy with the SEALs, with your brothers, you'd always known you'd have to go back to her. To that house.

At the end of the day, no matter how much you'd enjoyed your time away she was always waiting for you when you got home with some new complaint, some new gripe. You never could enjoy your time away unless you were on a deployment because otherwise the second you got home all smiles it was like she made it her personal mission to get rid of it. She'd sit you down at the dining room table as she lost her mind because the bulb in the garage went out. Or God forbid she served you dinner. Every time she did you were always afraid she'd do it again. Spike your food with something to get what she so desperately wanted from you. There had been one point in your marriage you'd told her to just go find a man she enjoyed so she'd leave you alone and quit asking you for that. She'd responded by breaking down into sobs asking why you wanted a divorce, and you'd ended up giving in and joining her in the bed that night just to get her to stop crying. Every day with that woman was an exhausting roller coaster of bullshit.

McCann could read your thoughts as he whispered, "Good, you deserve to be happy, boss. Now stop thinking about her. There's a reason we always called her the Warden, bossman, she's a bitch, she doesn't deserve anymore of your attention." You couldn't disagree with him, that woman had certainly always had a way that made her completely unlikable. McCann stepped back away from you slowly, "You keep thinking about her you're gonna kill your boner, Peaches. Now go say hey to your Brit for me. Go on, go have fun," the crooked smile disappeared slowly until you were alone in the black void. You weren't there for long though.

Swirls of heat flooded up to your cheeks before flooding through the rest of your body. It was almost uncomfortably hot but it was accompanied by such a pleasurable shock you gave a small smile instead. Your teeth grazed over your bottom lip, drawing it in as you pushed up into the warm sensation below the sheets. A low hum came from low in your throat, wrecked by sleep and lust in equal measures. Brows raised on your forehead before you blinked open an eye lazily to glance around the room.

Confusion hit you as you looked around the darkness. This wasn't your bunkhouse, it wasn't your room, and it especially was not your bed. Where in the hell were you- A gasp of air into your lungs as a tongue teased at your entrance. Then a low moan echoed through the room as your thoughts went quiet, the tongue continuing its work as their hand pumped up and down your length. Your hands shot down in search of them, but you found only the sheets to wrap your fingers in. “Ohhh,” you breathed out the air you’d just sucked in before lifting your head to look down. The white sheets obscured the large figure between your thighs, but it didn’t matter because when the mouth left your entrance and returned to its task before that you could feel them suckling at the head of your cock eagerly. It was like they were sucking on a damn jolly rancher and it had you both speechless and thoughtless in their ministrations.

When the low hum answered your quiet pants your hips bucked up towards the mouth, searching for more of those delicious vibrations. A hand pressed against your abdomen though and stopped you from making it very far, apparently they wanted you to keep still and they weren’t going to let you have your way with them. Your limbs were still weak and you couldn’t manage to push past the resistance they were pressing down on your hips with. 

You felt the tiniest prick of frustration reach the back of your mind in response, a reaction you couldn't help as you tried once more with a desperate thrust upwards with your hips. The lips wrapped around the head of your cock didn’t deny your quiet request for more this time as you felt the mouth slide down the length agonizingly slow, their hands still holding your hips in place as they went. The tip of your erection hit the back of the person's throat as they held their mouth in place for a moment. Then just as slowly as they had sunk down they slid back up, their mouth pulling off for just a second as their hand took its place on your member.

The flat of their tongue suddenly drug across the head, the tip of their tongue dipping into the slit as your head pressed back into the pillow and your eyes shut tight. Your hand shot to the side of the bed, gripping it hard with a moan that you did your best to restrain and failed completely at. As the lips wrapped once more around you and you suffered pleasurably through another few moments of torturous suckling on the head of your erection you simply couldn’t take it anymore. 

Hurriedly you grabbed at the edge of the sheets and pushed them down over the brunette haired man with his lips currently wrapped around your cock and the slightest hint of red burning his cheeks and the tips of ears. His face tilted up even as his tongue swirled around your member slowly, those blue eyes finding you through dark lashes as his mouth pulled off your length. A string of saliva dripping down his chin that you could see glistening even in the darkness shrouding yall.

A cocky smirk found his mouth as his hand pumped slowly up and down your length. “Why are you awake so early, Love?” His voice was just as sleep wrecked as yours, deeper than normal and scratchy beyond belief after he'd been sucking on your cock for who knows how long now. Oh God you’d forgotten about falling asleep in his arms yesterday. Falling asleep in his bed as he’d hummed in that quiet, rumble and rubbed gentle circles into your temples. His voice penetrated your very soul, it was already deep enough he didn’t need the assistance of a morning voice to help him sound any sexier.

Your head tilted back into the pillows, looking up at the ceiling with a deep intake of breath. Damn his hand felt good. Warm against your skin, pressure firm as it slid up the length and then back down, and the fuckin calluses. God his calluses caught on seemingly every sensitive vein of your erection in all the right ways. Walking the line between pain and pleasure like he always seemed to be doing. “What a fuckin mornin’, hun,” your southern drawl came out in harsh contrast to the way you normally sounded. 

Most of the time you hid your southern roots in the way you spoke, and acted. It wasn’t often you used the phrases and words so common to where you had grown up, all in your attempt to blend in as well as you could. Not until you’d started to feel comfortable and let your guard down, and boy was it down right now. When you glanced back down you saw the smirk that had grown into a full blown smile. The corners of his eyes were crinkled and his forehead was showing off his wrinkles and God he looked like a saint framed by the moonlight, barely filtering in through the window.

As you sat up on your elbows his head lowered again, tongue dragging down your length before he was lapping at your balls. Suckling on them with renewed fervor as your hands curled into the sheets in an attempt not to grab him by the head and attempt to fuck his face again. Another low moan pulled out of your throat before he once more pulled his mouth away. You responded with a quiet, needy whine as you started to shift on the bed, searching for his hand at the very least. 

"Do me a favor?" His question caught you off guard at first and you blinked a couple times before giving him a hesitant nod, a bit worried about what he was going to ask you to do in the middle of this. You doubted you’d be able to do much with how far gone you already were and still weak with sleep. He glanced to your right where the bedside table was and you followed his gaze, "Drink something.” The hell did he just say? You didn’t even have a chance to react though before he continued, “You fell asleep before you could yesterday and I didn't want to wake you up."

You turned your head to glance at the bedside table then, staring blankly at the two bottles sitting there. Was here…serious? Who were you kidding, of course he was serious. This is the same man who’d destroyed you in his car twice and then proceeded to ask if you were fucking hungry. The man had some kind of kink for taking care of you. Was that even a thing? Probably. You glanced back down at him, studying his smiling gaze for a second before you finally turned back to two bottles once more.

One was just plain water while the other was a Powerade. Man he was a fuckin saint. His hand drug up your length slowly, wrapping around you just below the ridge where your head flared out. You couldn’t help the breathy moan you let out as his tongue found the head and shot out, swirling around it as he watched you and then he stopped again. "Oh God," you breathed out and found his burning gaze below you once more, "You- Oh lord-" His hand continued to work you, occasionally his tongue added its support as he licked at the pulsing veins on your shaft in short, teasing swipes of his tongue.

Until he wasn't and you whimpered at the sudden loss of the friction, the sudden loss of him. Your eyes shot down, watching as his head tilted and he glanced at the bottles on the bedside table again. Oh yeah, that's right, he wanted you to drink something. He’d just said that and yet you’d already forgotten about it. This man was one hell of a memory loss drug, that was for sure. You sat up, his eyes following you slowly as yours trailed down his bare back to the waistband of his underwear. The waist you just wanted to grab and hold onto and never let go of.

The man between your thighs started to move then, like he was about to sit up or move from the only place you wanted him to be right then. Your hand pressed between his shoulder blades, stopping him from moving and you muttered, "I'm goin, alright? I’m getting a drink." His lips pressed into the skin along the inside of your thighs as he nodded and waited patiently for you to do just that, and you could feel the hint of his smile against your bare skin. Leaning back you grabbed the Powerade bottle off the bedside table quickly, feeling his hand return to your aching member in response.

Stifling a moan you twisted off the cap, nearly forgetting again that you were supposed to be drinking. Pressing the bottle to your lips and tilting it back you swallowed a sip. The rest happened of its own accord as you downed nearly the whole bottle in one go. Thirstily chugging the bottle as you replenished all of the liquids and electrolytes you’d lost the day before. As you pulled it away from your lips to take a breath his mouth found the base of your cock. Mouthing at it with his lips and tongue as he worked his way up the length, traveling up as saliva trailed in his wake.

When his lips found the head and wrapped around it once more your head fell back at the blissful sensation. God he worked miracles with that mouth.  A tap hit the bottle still in your hand and you looked down with a couple slow blinks before you saw the finger of his freehand pointing to the Powerade with a warning in his eyes. Anything to keep him suckling on you like that. By God you’d give him anything he wanted. The bottle found your lips again as you tilted it back and downed the rest hurriedly.

The second you swallowed though a disgustingly loud moan of need left you as both his hands wrapped around your cock pumping up and down the length as he slid his mouth down to meet them. You didn't have the strength to stay up then, falling back to your elbows slowly and then all the way onto your back once more, the bottle clattering to the floor at the side of the bed somewhere along with the cap.

You couldn’t have cared less though, not while you were beginning to see stars because of him. His hands were working your entire length, enveloping it in that warm, firm pressure as he continued to pump them up and down your sensitive flesh. All the while he sucked the tip of your cock like he was trying to suck a milkshake through a goddamn straw. God the man was sucking the air from your lungs, since when were those two even connected.

Your head hit the pillow again, eyes shutting tight at the hard throbbing that was beginning in your member. Jesus you were getting close, so close you could nearly taste it now. How long had he been down there before you woke up? Shit you weren't even going to last another five minutes at this rate. Your breaths were coming in short gasps as you felt his mouth slip a little lower down your shaft as he removed one hand, tongue pressing firmly against the underside and another explosion of euphoria had you slamming a hand above your head into the wall for support. When he put both hands back along your length was when he really started to go to town. God you thought just the suckling and slow pumping was good?

The moment he added a twist of his hands as they followed his mouth up and then another twist on the down stroke with his mouth trailing behind, you turned into an absolute mess. Groans fell out of you that would have made a whore blush had they been standing within earshot. "J-John," you stammered out and he hummed questioningly, refusing to stop his ministrations.

Fuck you really should have just stayed quiet because now you really were close as hell and you could feel your abdomen tightening in expectation of the release of the building pressure. Your body anticipating the release you so desperately wanted, needed. Before he could hum again you managed to stammer out, "I'm- I'm close, hun. N-Not gon-gonna last if-if you keep-" His hands twisted again on the upstroke, catching right at the underside of the head and you couldn't help yourself but to buck up into his mouth, stopped only by the fact that he was currently double fisting your cock.

A rumbling chuckle found your ears and you looked down. His mouth had pulled off as did his hands and you let out an embarrassingly loud and needy whine into the air with a few quick shakes of your head. Quickly your hands shot down down to grab at his brunette hair, urging him gently back down and thank fucking God he listened and was feeling merciful because you couldn't have taken any edging right then. One hand wrapped around the base, his eyes flicking back up to find you as his mouth slipped back around your length and you felt yourself sink into that wet, warm heat. His mouth was positively sinful.

John's eyes stayed locked on yours as you felt your tip press against the back of his throat, holding your length steady in his mouth as he swallowed around it and then pulled back off. He let you set his pace, your hand still tangled into his hair as you pulled him up steadily and then back down. When your hand fell away he didn't even seem to notice, just kept going at the pace you'd already set for him. "John," your voice came out barely above a whisper, "Oh fuck, I'm close, hun. So fuckin close. Don't stop," he happily obliged, keeping up the steady rhythm and taking you even deeper into his mouth every time, humming every time your hips jerked up into his mouth.

God you were burning up. Sweating so bad you were sure you were going to be soaked by the time this was over. Your hands pulled at the hem of your shirt as the Brit watched with a raised brow until you were raising up again just enough to jerk the shirt off over your head. It found the ground in the next second and the entire time the man never even let up. John was impaling his throat on your length with reckless abandon, sloppily drooling all over you and he felt so damn good doing it. And good God he looked fucking phenomenal, so beautiful.

You gritted your teeth and then pulled your bottom lip in between your teeth, head shaking on the pillow as you fought every instinct not to reach down and just start fuckin his throat. Glancing down at him you let out a pent up breath of air. It was like he could sense when you were looking at him as those blue eyes shot up to find your eyes through those dark lashes. “So beautiful,” you whispered, the hand you’d been bracing against the wall above you dropping back to the bed as you held onto the sheets once more. “Pretty as a fuckin peach with that mouth around my cock,” your moan fell out as he hummed in answer, the corners of his eyes lifting in amusement.

The throbbing was relentless now, the pressure built up so much you were struggling to remember to keep breathing. Your hand smacked against the wall beside you, fingers scratching wildly at the paint as you tried to find purchase on its smooth front, your other hand still digging into the sheets relentlessly. And yet still he didn't stop, just steadily sucked around your length with one hand around it following every movement of his mouth up and down your length. His other hand had moved to hold onto your thigh at some point but now it was trailing lower. Below his mouth and his other hand and you felt the feather light touch of the rough pads of those fingertips against your entrance.

They massaged gently against you, running over the tight muscle before massaging the skin directly between your entrance and cock. Sparks lit up your vision as he did and your back arched at the sensation. Holy- What the heck did he just- And then he did it again, harder this time as his fingers fell into a rhythm. A string of moans left your mouth followed by a loud, drawn out, "Ohhhh fuuuuuuck-" You couldn't even stop yourself, couldn't warn him before it happened.

Right as his mouth came up along your length you came hard. Filling his mouth in pulses as one hand shot to his hair and the other braced on the wall above your head once more, keeping him from pulling off your release filled his cheeks. Your back arched off the bed even more as short gasps filled the air around yall. He swallowed around the head of your cock eagerly, milking you dry until the sensitive nerves couldn't take it anymore, becoming more pain than pleasure now. "Stop, please, oh God, I can't-" Immediately his mouth pulled off in compliance and he sat up on his elbows looking up at you with smiling eyes.

John watched as you caught your breath, the bristly hairs on his chin running over the top of your thigh slowly as he nodded his head, lips tilting down to press a light kiss to your skin. As the heaving of your chest began to slow you felt his nose nudge against the bone of your hip. Felt his body shift over the top of you as he kissed and suckled his way up your now bare torso. A wet tongue dipped between your abdominals, before he nipped at the skin with his teeth and sucked it between his lips. John left hickeys all along the expanse of your stomach, claiming you without either of you really even thinking about it.

When he reached your pectorals he did the exact same thing. Leaving light teeth marks and sloppy kisses along your skin with a pleased smile. His tongue ran between them into the valley of your chest before he suckled at the skin, no doubt tasting the salt of your sweat and he seemed only to enjoy it more. His nose nuzzled against your chest, the tip of it running over a nipple and drawing out a lazy, tired smile from you. When you felt his hips run over your softened member you glanced down between both of your bodies.

John was holding himself over you with a heated look as his hips grinded into you, clothed only in the thin layer of underwear he was wearing. You could feel his barely contained erection running against your own now softened and sensitive member. Hell you could see it plain as day even in the dark. The outline as well as the patch of wetness on the fabric. 

And then he laid down on top of you, driving the air from your lungs for a second before he lifted up to adjust himself and wrap his arms around your torso. His nose hit against your neck and his beard scratched at your bare shoulder as he relaxed on you like you were his mattress and pillow. "John?" He hummed in response to you and you felt the deep vibrations course through your chest before you asked, "What about you?"

You could feel the way his face lifted against your skin and you knew he was smiling, or smirking, one of the two. His lips pressed a gentle kiss against your neck before he shrugged his shoulders, "I'm not worried about it. It'll go away in a little bit." When you didn't respond and instead shifted your hips underneath him he chuckled on top of you, "Not if you keep doing that though. Be still, sweetheart, and go back to sleep. It’s way too early to be awake." You smiled at him and reached up to wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face into his neck.

A huff of surprise left him as you rolled him over, laying your weight on top of him instead as you kissed a trail up his neck, across his bearded jaw, and ended at his lips. Sitting up you glanced at the water bottle still left on the bedside table and your head tilted, "If it's so early where did you get the water and Powerade from?" The Brit ran his hands along your back before lacing them together behind you and turned to look at the unopened water bottle on the bedside table.

John smiled up at you then before pulling at your back to drag your weight back down on top of him, "Got them from the squad room." His answer was simple, matter-of-fact. Yet the knowledge he had traversed in the dark of night all the way across base and back just to get you a bottle of water and Powerade made something in your heart hurt, but in a…Good way? Was that possible?

You leaned down with a light hum of amusement and shook your head as you settled your body back against his, "So you went all the way across base to the squad room just to get me a bottle of water and some Powerade?" His face had buried back into your neck a moment later as he hummed an affirmative against you. Your cheek pressed against the pillow, nose nudging against his neck just as he was doing to you.

His cheek rested on top of yours then, effectively burying your face between the pillow and him and shrouding you in his warmth and the thick scent of oaks and…Chocolate? Dark chocolate, yeah, that was a new one you hadn't smelt before. Typically he smelt more like smoke, he must’ve had himself a cigar before he came back with the scent still so distinguishable on him right now. Your voice quieted and you whispered against his skin, "You're a fuckin dream, you know that right?"

The man huffed in amusement and shrugged, "I don't know about a dream, Love. Pretty sure I'm real," you rolled against his still hard length, cutting off his words with a teasing grind against him. He gasped lightly against your neck at the feeling before growling out low, "I'm tired right now, go back to sleep." Fingers grazed along your back in light strokes. One of his hands wound up in your hair as he massaged the base of your skull as well, trying to put you back to sleep.

You never even stood a chance to stay awake as he pulled the sheets up around your shoulders, shrouding you in his warmth and safety once more. There was no way you could keep yourself awake though, especially not with the way he massaged and his nails drug across your skin with gentle scratches. Slowly your body relaxed on top of him, your arms sliding up around his neck and wrapping him up in a death grip he had no chance to extricate himself from. John wasn't leaving this bed again unless you said he could and you were bound and determined even in sleep to make it happen. And whether you knew it or not, or even if you believed it, he didn't want to be anywhere else either way.

Sleep enveloped you in its embrace for the second time that night. John's cocoon of safety and warmth clinging tight to you like you'd never felt before. How had you ever slept without this? Without him? Oh that's right, you hadn't. Sleep was rare for you nowadays, it had been for a long time actually. The longer you went without having someone to pull against you, or to pull you against them, the worse you slept.

You'd been so devoid of this intimacy for so long it was a miracle you even found comfort in it anymore. Honestly it was a bit of a surprise that you weren’t trying to pry yourself away from him. Maybe you hadn’t known it but you were so touch starved even the part of your mind that told you to keep your distance craved even the smallest touch from him. Peace radiated through you, the pleasantness of his sudden wakeup call still coursing through you warmly. It was fading slowly, you could see the bad thoughts slowly trying to creep towards the light of that dying fire now.

God though, this had to be heaven at this very moment. As close as you would ever get to it anyway. This was the touch of an angel, that was what this Brit possessed and it made part of you begin to worry that you would corrupt him. You couldn't handle doing that to anyone else, not again. No one loved you, and you kept everyone away, it was the way of your world, a solid fact even if it did sometimes become lonely it didn't matter. It wasn’t your happiness that mattered if you cared about someone else, it was theirs. Everything you touched you destroyed, you'd heard it over and over and over again your entire life. And the one thing that scared you more than anything else in the world at that moment was that you'd do it to John too.

Everyone your whole life had told you that you wrecked everything. That you broke it down so completely there was nothing left to even attempt to fix. Like when the tractor's engine had overheated while you were using it and your Dad had smacked you over the back of the head for not realizing it before you'd blown the head gasket. Even at twelve years old you'd been a force of destruction. You should have known not to drive the tractor that long but you'd forgotten to ask. Hell you'd nearly put your family into debt that year trying to keep the whole farm running without the help of a tractor. The work that summer had been back-breaking. Your dad had you pulling you twice the hours of your other siblings, but you couldn’t blame him. It was your fault that yall had been in that mess.

That hadn't been your only fuck up though, it hadn't even been your worst. When you'd missed your daughter's first ever solo choir performance, now that had been a mission you wished you had never come back from. Wished you hadn’t had to see the heartbreak written on your little girl’s face the second your work phone had lit up. You had promised her, promised your baby girl you'd be there for her. And then you'd gotten the call and you watched as she broke down, begging you not to go. Crying and pleading with you relentlessly to be there for her just this one time. Your wife could have done that for hours and you merely would have been exhausted, but seeing your daughter doing the same thing had nearly broken you.

Your wife had just stood there watching and refused to help. Refused to pull your daughter's arms off of your neck, or even to move her out of the way so you could back out of the driveway. It had broken your heart and your relationship with the only lights in your life at the time. Both her and your son had rarely talked to you after that, even when you’d come back broken and nearly dead they hadn’t afforded you the time of day. That had been the straw that broke the camel's back. And when you came home you ended up having to watch your daughter crying in her room while your wife screamed that you had done this to her. God you still felt the sting of her nails in your neck after she'd nearly clawed your skin to shreds that night, not giving a care in the world to the bruises that littered your skin.

There were so many good things you had ruined, so many relationships and people, it felt almost irresponsible to take that risk with John as well. Even the ones you cared about you’d destroyed so completely. And John? He was different, he was, well he was important, more than anyone else you’d met in the past two years, that was for sure. How could you stand to hurt him? To make him think that the job, that your work, mattered more than him? You couldn’t take seeing him cry because you had to leave again and again and again, and you were never there when he needed you.

That risk weighed on you heavily, altering your dreams even as that cocoon of safety pushed them back as best it could. Nothing was indestructible though, not even the comfort John provided. The thoughts made it through the safety net, clouding your mind not in nightmares but in disheartening unpleasantness. Somehow that was worse, you’d rather have been forced to watch tragedy strike over and over again than have the highlight reel of your worst moments playing on repeat in your mind. The reminders that you weren't good, that you'd done so much bad in this world, and that John deserved so much better floated around in your subconscious thoughts. He deserved the world and you couldn't have even given him a pebble you'd found at the edge of a lake without somehow managing to blacken his soul with it.

You were a sickness, an impurity in the diamond that was earth that should anyone have ever tried to grade it, it never would have made it above an i3. You were the inclusion so big and disgusting that it was visible even to the naked eye. The cloud and indents were your heart and mind and not a reputable vendor in the world would have tried to market you to anyone. John deserved someone flawless. Someone who wasn't turned so easily into a wreck as you had been yesterday by something as stupid as a few lost items. He deserved to have someone to cry on, not to have someone breaking apart on him. John deserved someone pure, someone loving, someone who wasn't broken and cracked and falling to pieces already. He deserved a blank slate where he could write his name without having to see the names of those who had come before to shatter the delicate ceramics of your heart.

You didn't deserve him. How could you ever hope to live up to what this man truly deserved. You could never do anything to be worthy of the kindness he'd already shown and you certainly could never repay it. He was better than you. So much better than you. There was no simpler way to put it, you didn't deserve him. And he certainly didn't deserve to have to deal with you.

A sudden shift underneath you jostled you awake. Rough fingertips ran over the skin of your cheek and you blinked open your eyes, trying to clear them as streaks lined your vision. It wasn't just bleariness that was clouding them though. You felt the patch of wetness beneath your cheek. When did you start crying? John was holding your face in his hands, looking up at you with concern and confusion in his eyes.

His thumb ran over your cheek to wipe away the tears as he frowned down at the sight of you once more crying in his presence, "What's wrong?" Well this was embarrassing beyond belief. Two times in less than twenty four hours, really? Get it together Speck. The man had already let you cry yourself to sleep the day before, then he'd woken you up in the middle of the night to give you the best early morning, or was it late night, head of your life. Yet here you were still bawling like a little bitch. When your eyes shut and you tried to hide your face back in the pillow and the curve of his neck, his hand at your jaw stopped you cold. He drew your eyes back to his face and shook his head before whispering, "Tell me. I'm here to listen, whatever you need, Love."

Well that only made it ten times worse. A fresh well of tears were making their way to your eyes and before he could see them you reached a hand up and pulled him down towards you. Your mouth found his hungrily, needing him so completely your entire chest hurt at the thought of not having him. The tip of your tongue teased at his lips and you felt him rut against you in response, unable to stop the reaction after denying himself his own release earlier. You sighed at the feeling of his still covered length grinding against your own naked one.

Your bodies were so entwined as he rolled your both over it was hard to tell where one began and the other ended. All you knew was that your arms were wrapped around his neck pulling him into you with one leg thrown over his hip so he could keep dragging his needy erection over yours. Vaguely you knew one of his hands had traveled down to grope at the plump flesh of your ass while the other hand was against your face, but it barely even registered. His slow grinding against your hips was already driving you mad with desire. Sweat was beading up along your flesh as the heat of the rising sun caught in the room and even the thin sheet was becoming too much.

A finger slid between your cheeks, grazing over the tight entrance he had neglected to fill earlier. Your hips pushed back of their own accord and he smiled against your mouth as he massaged your entrance with a few quick circles before sliding the tip of a rough finger inside of you. A quiet sigh left you before he whispered, "So tight for me, Love. Always so tight for me, yeah?" You nodded vigorously in answer, his mouth a hair's breadth away from yours. He was done pampering you though it seemed as his whispers turned into a quiet growl, "I asked you a question, don't make me repeat it." Oh yeah, you'd forgotten about that. He liked to hear you, your quiet nods weren't going to cut it this time around.

Tilting your head forward to press your forehead to his, your answer danced over his skin, "Always for you. Only ever for you, Angel," he went still the second the word fell from your mouth and you felt your heart stop just as suddenly. You'd messed up. Ah shit, why in the hell did you say that? That's not what he wanted to hear, that was absolutely the last thing he wanted to hear. Always, how do you always do this, Speck? You always fu-

His mouth surged forward eagerly, tying the two of you into another kiss. Passionate and not only wanting but needing to feel your sincerity, your warmth. His tongue slid against yours, the hairs of his mustache scratching against your upper lip and nose, though by now after more than a few days of growth on your face you knew your own beard was beginning to return the favor. Especially when you felt him twitch his nose at the sensation. When he pulled away taking in deep breaths you caught a bright smile as he ducked his head, pressing his whole body forward to bury his red face against your skin.

A laugh fell out of him and you felt his face burning with heat against your neck, his lips pressing into your skin. Finally you asked, "What?" He just let out another light chuckle and shook his head against you, his arms locking you in place against him. Lips suckled at your neck greedily even as your own face heated up with embarrassment. "What's wrong John? What did I do? I'm-I'm sorry I didn't mean-" The brunette pulled back watching you with those still squinted and smiling eyes as he shook his head at you. Stopping your thoughts with another, shorter kiss.

When he pulled away he was still smiling when he managed an answer, "Nothing's wrong, sweetheart." His eyes fell and you saw his beard twitching as he fought to control some kind of reaction. Finally he turned those impossibly blue hues back up to you still smiling wider than you'd ever seen from him, "Can you call me that again?" Your head tilted in confusion as you watched his nearly giddy face.

What did he mean? Was he talking about, "Angel?" His eyes closed as you said the word before he was ducking his red face again, burying his face in your shoulder as he rolled the two of you until you were pressed underneath his weight. "Oh you like being called Angel then, Captain?" You felt him laugh lightly against the slick skin of your shoulder before he nodded. "Alright then, noted, Angel," you felt him shift as he pushed up on his elbows again. His hands grabbed at your cheeks as he stared down at you, like he was investigating the depths of your very soul. God he always brought some new level of intimacy that made you feel…special.

Intent, searching, entranced, captivated, you didn’t know what you were but you knew you liked it. You simply couldn't move, either of you. Watching one another as his thumbs ran over your cheekbones, mapping them out with the rough pads of his fingertips. Your fingers found his sides, running over the muscle between every rib and down to his hips, fingering the waistband of his underwear. The little smile that slowly formed on his face was mirrored by your own. He leaned down slowly, nose bumping into yours as his mouth teased barely an inch above your own. God he was always such a tease.

John needed to get on with this. You were getting impatient now and there was no telling how long you'd be able to keep yourself from absolutely begging for him. "Hey," his head tilted in response, inviting you to continue, "When are you gonna fuck me, Angel?" His tongue slid out of his mouth, running along his lips as he wet them and then his smile turned into a knowing smirk. His clothed hips grinded down into your own naked ones, drawing out a half lidded sigh of pleasure at the friction before his hand was reaching for the bedside table.

Those burning blue depths never left yours as he searched for the bottle he was looking for. Finally finding his query he sat back on his heels, affording you the sight of his glistening body slicked with sweat just as your own was. Your legs were framing his thighs and kept you from closing your legs as he gathered some lube on his fingers. When his fingers disappeared out of your sight you tensed up. It was something you couldn’t stop but he didn’t even seem to notice. The tips of his fingers grazed over your skin, sliding smoothly over the tight ring of muscle as he massaged at your entrance.

As your body relaxed he slowly pushed his finger inside you, earning him a low moan from you at the delicious feel of his digit dragging along your walls. Your cock jumped as you clenched around his intrusion and he smirked at the sight. Pulling his finger out he added a second, slowly working them inside you and scissoring diligently. When he added more lube and curled his fingers up he pressed against your prostate. You gasped at the sensation, abdomen tightening instinctively and your hand reaching for his forearm.

You leaned forward as you tried to sit up and reach for him but he stopped you before you could. John leaned down over you and pushed you back down into the mattress, his mouth finding yours as he continued to run his fingers over the sensitive nerves. Relentless in his desire to hear your quiet moans and needy whines. When his pace began to quicken and he added a third finger, your mouth opened in a silent plea for more, for him. 

"Shh, Love," he whispered against your mouth as he leaned down over you. You sucked your bottom lip in-between your teeth in response, muffling the next moan as his fingers spread you again. Your hands groped blindly for him, finding his chest first and then his sides as you worked your way down, fingers ghosting over the scarred skin of his hip. Slowly you pushed at the waistband of his underwear, wanting to see him. To touch him. To feel the weight of him in your hand and for the love of God you needed him inside you.

A whine left you when his fingers slid out and you whispered, “No, please, I need more.” Your eyes were still half lidded tiredly as he reached a hand down to shove the waistband of his underwear down just enough to free his cock. The weight laid against your own erection as he thrusted slowly a couple times across your sensitive skin. Nevermind, you could wait, you could be patient. Precome dripped into the soft hair on your stomach, leaving a wet trail across your skin. Please good lord just get on with it, John. His head tilted and for a moment you wondered if he could read your mind.

Slowly you felt him sit back on his heels to guide himself down, the blunt tip running over your entrance slowly. You couldn't help but grind down towards him and he let out a light hiss of air as he felt your entrance graze over the tip of his member. Need had wrecked this man after denying himself the first time he'd woken you up. You doubted he would last long this morning. Especially with how hungrily his gaze was watching the way you opened around him as the tip pushed inside. The slight burn made you smile up at him lazily. He stopped as his head slid in and he let out a hard breath before looking up at your eyes.

That look, you recognized that look. You'd only ever seen it on him once before, all those months ago when he had laid you down in his bed and rewritten the entire makeup of your being. When he had gotten you addicted to him in not only just the way he felt seated fully inside you but how amazing he smelled even when he was sweaty and musky and the room smelled of sex. How his eyes burned every inch of skin they landed on. How his smile seemed to light up every neuron in your mind with something you had never even felt before. How his kisses and lightly suckling mouth soothed those scalding patches of flesh left behind by his scratchy beard. Christ the beard.

His hips jerked forward suddenly and you let out a loud groan that was bordering on a near scream. Ecstasy ran through every limb though as he hooked your legs up and over his shoulders before his hips drug backwards slowly. Oh no, not this. There was no way you could stand the slow yet heart racing fuck you knew he could provide, that he would provide. But God you'd missed this you had to admit. This is what had gotten you hooked on him that night. The rough fucks were good yeah but this…this was beyond perfection.

The slow rhythm was already driving you to the edge. No, not yet, too soon. Your stomach tensed, flexing hard and you saw his hand shoot down to the base of your length. A firm squeeze at the base as he stilled and your breaths were coming back in harsh gasp. "Not yet, Love. Let me have some fun with you, yeah?" You barely managed a nod and another breathy moan as his hand unwrapped from your length and ran across your lower stomach. Another deep, slow thrust and he was leaning down over you again.

John folded you in half, legs still hooked over each shoulder as he braced himself on his hands over the top of you. Suddenly his hips slammed flush with yours. His pace stayed agonizingly slow but every time he was about to thrust inside you his hips jolted forward striking home brutally. God he felt so big like this, the burn edging on the line between pain and pleasure. You could feel him brushing against your prostate with just about every stroke with those perfectly aimed thrusts of his and you knew this was going to be the end of you. He was too much, this man was going to burn you up body, mind, and soul.

How were you supposed to keep from cumming when he just kept doing- “Oh fuck,” you groaned as he grinded hard against your hips, pushing you up the bed and almost causing you to hit your head on the wall. “Please, I can’t wait-” he cut you off with a sloppily placed kiss as he resumed his brutal strikes deep within you. You were moaning into his mouth and his throat was producing the same damn noises. John was just as far gone as you always were. Just as close and just as ready.

The man above you was exploring your mouth with his tongue between desperate gasps for air. Your bodies were working together to reach a common goal. Pure fucking bliss. Every breath was in sync, every time you grinded your own hips towards him he was thrusting his own forward with a hard strike. He bottomed out and his face fell forward by yours, his mouth right against your ear as he whispered, “Cum for me, Love.” One of his hands dropped your leg and then found your length, pumping over your sensitive cock in time with every thrust. “Cum now,” your eyes shut tight at the words and instantly your body responded to his demand.

Pressure that had built up released like a snap of a rubber band. You painted both of your stomachs, abdomen tightening and chest heaving as the waves crashed over you. His thrusts never stopped, never even faltered as he fucked you through your high. The man didn’t even stop his hand stroking your cock, not until you groaned out and your eyes began to water. Your fingers reached desperately for his wrist and stopped his hand that was pumping quickly now.

His hand braced on the wall just behind your head then as he buried himself as deep as he could inside you and you felt his thrusts beginning to falter. When you opened your eyes he was already watching you with his mouth hanging open, his face red as he panted. You felt the twitch of his cock inside you, felt his pulse, and you didn’t need to see the need in his eyes to know it was there. He pulled out again and then slammed home, his hips moving faster as he chased his high.

Pulling him down to you, you pressed a gentle kiss to his lips that he tried to return but he merely groaned against your mouth barely a moment later. As you pressed another kiss against the line of his jaw following it up to his ear, burying his face against your neck before he started to suckle at the skin of your neck. Your breath fell out against the shell of his ear with one hand against the back of his head and the other against the swell of his ass. He was moaning into your neck now with need and you felt him falter again as you hooked your free leg behind him and helped to guide him inside you.

A low whisper came out of your mouth against the skin of his ear, “Cum for me, Angel. Let me see the face you make,” you pulled his face back out of your neck, hands cupping his cheeks as you watched his eyes close and the veins of his neck pop as he clenched nearly every muscle in his body. Then you felt the warm spray against your walls as he emptied inside of you, his mouth opening in a quiet groan.

His voice let out a quiet whimper as he rutted up into you in shallow thrusts riding himself through his orgasm as you still helped to guide him with the leg currently wrapped around him and the fingers digging into the flesh of his ass. When you clenched around him he hissed aloud and his head tipped forward, burying his face in your neck. Rough teeth scraped against your bare skin as he tried to come down from the intense high currently coursing through him. His chest still heaving against you and his breath coming in hard pants against your skin.

He released your thigh that he still had hitched up around his shoulder and it fell stiffly back to the bed as your muscles unwound from the tension of being folded up like a lawn chair. You’d never known you were so flexible until you’d met John. Your body would have done anything he asked of it, you were certain. 

When he slid out of you it was obscene the mess you could feel dripping out of your used hole. Not another soul alive could make you do the things he had. Hell not a soul alive had ever removed you so completely of inhibitions and made you want to do what you did with him. Your hands were running through the hairs at the back of his head with gentle fingers as you whispered quietly to him. 

For once it was him on the brink of consciousness and not you. John was completely out of it with his body laid out across yours and suffocating you in the growing heat of the room. The man was working completely off of instinct at this point it felt like. You couldn’t have cared less though. It was John on top of you. It was John who was currently breathing heavily in your ear and kissing at the sensitive spot just behind it while you whispered words dripping like honey in his ear. 

His hips still were rutting into the mattress as if he was already trying to get ready for another round even though you could tell that he was well and truly fucked out right now. “It’s ok, Angel, I’ve got you,” your hands trailed down his back lightly and he sighed against your skin. The tip of his nose grazed over the side of your throat. You could tell he was starting to finally come back to himself when his mouth turned up in a smile against your neck.

Slowly his arms wrapped around your back rolling you over to your side as he settled back on the mattress and tucked you into his side. There was a satisfied smile that turned up the corners of his mouth, his entire face seemingly lit up in the blissful post-orgasmic haze he was currently in. You watched him while his eyes were closed, his thumb running over the curve of your shoulder and as he did you felt the beginnings of your own smile spreading over your face, just as warmth spread through you that wasn’t just the growing heat of the room.

Your hand splayed across the expanse of his chest just in front of your face as you played your fingers through the soft, dark hairs there. A deep hum resonated through him at the touch and you felt him shift against you before he propped his head up with one hand behind his head. The silence in the room was peaceful, just as the natural light coming in through the window was.

A scene from a storybook, that’s what the two of you were. Your bodies were still slick with sweat while you were naked laying against his own barely clothed form. Hell he still hadn’t even tucked himself away yet, the waistband of his underwear just barely pushed down his thighs and over the curve of his ass. Slowly your hand went still against his skin and your eyelids grew heavier as you lapsed into another light nap.

Light streamed into the already semi-lit room pulling you out of the short rest you’d been allotted. Then a familiar Scottish voice broke through the barrier of yours and John’s privacy, jolting you out of the peaceful moment you’d just been sharing, "Price wake up we have a problem. No one can find-" A scream echoed around the bunkhouse as both your gaze and John's flew to the now open door and the dark-haired man currently staring wide eyed in horror and shock a few steps inside of it.

In an instant the brunette beside you was cursing wildly at the Scotsman and pulling his underwear back up into place before he scrambled for the sheets tangled at the bottom of the bed. “What the- Soap what in the fuck are you!?” John was immediately yelling at the young man. In response you rolled to your stomach and shot a quick look in the Scotsman’s direction. The sheets pulled up around your body as John scrambled to cover your naked body for you. All it really did though was tangle around your legs and just barely cover the curve of your backside and the absolute mess that the Brit had made there.

"Johnny!" A worried voice came from just outside the door right before Ghost barreled into the room as well with Ceberus at his side with his lead clipped onto his collar. Oh good Lord it just keeps getting better and better huh? Even from here you could see the Lieutenant's blank and blinking stare as he began to process the scene before him. Well at least until Soap's hand shot up to cover those hazel eyes in an attempt to maintain Ghost’s innocence. Now what innocence that man possessed was a mystery to you, you’d heard what they said to each other while they were doing the same damn thing you and John had just been doing. And it was a lot worse than what you and your Brit said in bed.

Just as quickly as Soap’s hand shot to cover his eyes, you watched a black glove with a skeleton pattern settle in front of Cerberus' eyes even as the dog attempted to move towards you. “Steamin’ Jesus mate, yer geein’ me the boak,” the Scotsman made a gagging noise and tried to force his eyes away but something seemed to occur to him just when he did. Soap blinked between both of you as his eyes trailed down your flesh and stopped where the sheets were just barely covering you.

Suddenly the man gasped in shock as his eyes widened and his mouth opened wide, "That's it! I remember ya now!" You glanced at his pointing finger, almost looking like there was an accusation in his gaze. What the hell was he talking about? Price’s eyes shot to you nervously as he slid to the edge of the bed. 

"Get out!" John’s voice was higher in pitch than you’d ever heard before while Soap was still pointing and shaking his head. The man wasn’t listening to a damn word anyone else was saying. His attention focused completely on you. While you were currently laying naked in the Captain’s bed with only a sheet between their prying eyes and the evidence of what had transpired a few minutes ago.

Ghost peeked around the hand still in front of his eyes and you saw the glare at your naked form even from here, "How the fuck do you know him?" Narrowed eyes shot to the Scotsman then almost with an accusation in them. You couldn’t really blame the Lieutenant, it was weird that it’d taken any of them this long to actually remember you from the bar. It was especially weird that it took you getting naked and absolutely wrecked for someone to finally figure it out though. However Soap was in full detective mode now and he was none the wiser to the angry look coming from the big man behind him or the waves of frustration currently pouring off of his Captain.

He started forward towards the both of you as John scooted up the bed blocking Soap’s view of your face with his almost naked form. "That was you,” he was near shouting at this point as his mind worked and he clarified, “At the bar! The one Price was always watching and whining about. Ye remember Lt," the Scotsman glanced back to gesture between you and Price before returning his gaze to you. "When he was blootert, man would always go on about how he wanted ta fu-" Before the Scot could finish the sentence the pillow you’d been laying on flew out from under your head and into his face, smacking him with a loud thwack!

Soap recoiled from the hit before finding his Captain’s gaze and the dark anger that had settled there. "I said get the fuck out Sergeant," his voice was dangerously low. His eyes turned to Ghost next, "You too Lieutenant, get out of here. Now." Blue eyes flared with nervousness as he watched his Captain before taking a couple steps back to stand beside Ghost again.

The Scotsman glanced your way, just barely catching your eyes around John’s tense form. Just before the Lieutenant, who you could have sworn was smirking underneath that mask, asked, “You want the dog back?” Price was on his feet in a moment as the two started to take off. You watched as they shoved one another towards the door in their haste, dragging your poor dog along behind them.

Price leaned down to grab the pillow off the floor, his eyes shooting up to the two again as Soap stated, “Ya know Cap, good on ya, mate. You’ve been needing a goo-” The big man grabbed the Sergeant’s arm as he jerked him out of the way of another thrown pillow. Soap disappeared around the frame of the door, his loud cackles audible even from where you were still laying in bed.

John stalked towards the door, leaning his head out to yell after them, “Stay out of my bloody room!” The door slammed shut in front of him and you watched as his chin tilted down to let his forehead rest against the smooth wood, shaking his head slowly. You threw the sheets off of you now that the two intruders were gone and slid to the edge of the bed. Standing up you made your way over to him, your brows furrowing with worry when he didn’t turn around to meet you. It was almost as if he was trying to calm himself down after being caught in bed with you.

Slowly your arms wrapped around his torso, your chin resting on his tense shoulder, the sound of your beard scratching against his skin audible and making you file away a quick note that you needed to shave. The second you touched him though it was like his tension began to melt away with your warmth flooding into him. Your fingers interlocked over his stomach, pulling him backwards against you as he let himself go for a moment. Accepting your quietly comforting gestures.

It was a foreign feeling this. There’d never been anyone you had willingly wanted to comfort before. Sure you’d played your role, and you had played it well in times when you had needed to. Like when your ex-wife’s grandmother had passed and she’d needed a shoulder to cry on. This though, it wasn’t anything you felt like you had to do. It wasn’t like you knew John would scream and slap and claw at your heart and skin for not doing it. Hell he probably didn’t even expect it from you with how closed off you typically were around others.

This was something you wanted to do, and not just for yourself but for him. You raised up on the balls of your feet and turned your face to press a quick kiss to his cheek before settling back flat on the floor, your chin still resting comfortably on the apex of his shoulder. Watching the side of his face you saw his chin finally lift again before he turned to find your gaze. “I’m sorry about that. I didn’t think they’d go looking for you so fast. I thought we had more time this morning." His typically upturned features were shrouded in something you couldn't quite pinpoint. The corners of his mouth turned down, the usual crinkle at the corners of his eyes had disappeared.

Your hands released him before you turned him around to study his face carefully. "Don't be sorry, Angel," you whispered with a good natured smile that for once wasn't brought about by some instinctual need for politeness or some kind of joke. It was genuine. And God it felt so fucking good. Reaching for his face your fingers ran through his beard and your palm cupped his cheek before your smile widened and you tacked on, “Not your fault they don’t know how to knock.”

There was a humorous snort from the man before he shook his head again and leaned his face into your touch. “They never learn. Trust me, Love, they never learn.” You sighed at that and then gave him a knowing nod, that was something you understood well. Slowly your arms wrapped around his waist, pressing him backwards into the door as you buried your face into his neck. His arms wrapped around your neck, his cheek scratching against your shoulder as he laid his face on it. Taking in a deep breath you let the smell of him coat your senses, floating out to sea on the wind of subtle cigar smoke and rich oaks.