Bad Day
Bad Day john vincent stories
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A written piece by flickawhip adapted for commaful. read the rest: https://archiveofourown.o...

Bad Day

It had been a bad day, a long, tiringly bad day. All the same Katie knew, if she waited, she would have a way to relax.

She would have John home, John, who loved her so deeply that he always seemed to know when she needed him, even when she couldn’t talk for fear of breaking completely.

Today was one of those days, the girls had been out all day and she had come home to a silent house. She had showered, washing a day of agony away at least a little, but she needed John.

She always needed him but when the day was as bad as today had been she needed him more.

He had come home soon after she had told him how rough her day was, and had yet to make it through the door.

Then, suddenly, the doors slammed closed, the firm click of the lock telling her it was John.

Tears came instantly to her eyes and, speechless, she could do no more than reach for him, almost child-like with desperation.

He had moved to her instantly, scooping her into his lap and curling his arms around her, pulling her in close, cradling her, letting her cry it out.

The tears came thick and fast but dried quickly too, his lips soft in her hairline and soothing her until, finally, she relaxed.

His voice was low, warm and husky and she relaxed further, suddenly tired, overwhelmed by exhaustion and the need for sleep. Soon, she did sleep, safe in the knowledge he wouldn’t let go.

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