#but when you get home you suddenly have this fear
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Happiness is a Butterfly
It's been literal months since I read @ceilidho's divorce AU and guess what it is still rattling around in my brain because it is just scrumptious.
This is what I vanished to work on lol
Pairing| John Price x F!Reader Rating| E Word Count| 10.6k Kinks/Content/Warnings| 3rd person reader, Post Divorce John Price x Wife!Reader, Attempting to co parent, John is obnoxiously agreeable until he no longer wants to be, there is the s l i g h t e s t mention where reader is worried John might snap but he doesn't scout's honor, squirting, unprotected PiV, blow job, face sitting, unplanned pregnancy, childbirth, reproductive coercion if you squint, baby trapping if you squint, it is a lil dubby because John doesn't do anything behind Reader's back but he steamrolls the fuck out of her into getting what he wants lmao
The words choke in her throat like they don’t want to leave.
Maybe that’s a higher power giving her just one last out to change her mind- to not say the four words that will upend the lives of everyone in the household.
She can barely bring herself to look at him.
In the decade they’ve been married his temper has never been something she’s been afraid of, but in that moment it is all she can think about; every headline she’s ever read of a soldier snapping and killing his wife and children floating in her mind like a neon sign flashing danger.
She’s never feared his temper but she’s also never croaked out the words I want a divorce to him before either.
Her arms cross over her body as her gaze settles a bit off to the side of him. Everything about her body language is closed off and cagey as he looks up from his desk- no doubt having been mentally preparing for another round of come to bed, love - in a minute darling, almost done only to be caught off guard by the actual request.
He doesn’t answer her as he sits back in his chair, looking at her.
She chooses now to choke out the words because she really doesn’t think she has it in her to say the words with him standing. He’s sitting- still imposing as ever even if he’s always been magnanimous around the house- and she’s on the other side of the room avoiding eye contact.
He stands, still silent as the grave, before walking towards her in slow, measured steps and coming to a halt right in front of her. The ground has become absolutely fascinating as she refuses to meet his gaze.
As his hand raises she imperceptibly starts to shift, but absolutely nothing escapes John’s notice. “Don’t,” he starts before clearing his throat, his tone softer as he speaks again, “Don’t do that. You know me better than that.”
This time she doesn’t move as he goes to cup her face- takes her chin in hand and forces her head up. “Look me in the eye and say it again.”
It takes a moment for her to scrape together her nerves, eyes picking up off the floor to meet his. She’s not sure entirely what she expected but she thinks she assumed there’d be more of a reaction. He’s watching her- thinking- as she stumbles over the words.
Doubt twists in her gut as once again she squeaks out “I want a divorce.”
“Is there someone else?” he asks evenly.
“No! John I’d never-” It’s true; ever since he’d turned her head all those years ago she’s been blind where other men are concerned.
“Okay,” he soothes with his thumb against her cheek and she’s suddenly aware that this is probably not how this conversation should be going. “I believe you. Are you sure this is what you want?”
She’s been agonizing over this for months. She’s not even sure what gauntlet was thrown down to make her say enough is enough and have today be the day. Nothing spectacular has happened.
Maybe that’s reason enough. His job is always just the higher priority. While he always ensures his family is cared for while away, he drops everything for work in a way that simply isn’t reciprocated at home. Even when he’s physically here he spends so much time locked in this damn office he might as well be back at base.
Nothing has changed after begging and pleading and she is tired with a bone weary ache.
Are you sure this is what you want? Echos in her head while he awaits an answer.
“Yes.” No. “I’m so tired of being alone,” she confesses. “I’m tired of constantly having to beg you to be here even when you’re home. If I am going to be by myself raising the boys then I just need to be by myself.”
He doesn’t seem surprised by the words in the slightest. Probably because they’ve been having the same argument for years. This is not the first time she’s been frustrated with his job.
“Okay,” she can’t believe her ears with his easy acceptance. “If this is what you want, then okay.”
She sobs- alone- in their bed like the entire situation isn’t her fault, burying her face in the bedding to stifle herself from the kids. John’s gone.
Everything goes about as smoothly as it can. John doesn’t fight her on anything. With his schedule there’s no point in ironing out a visitation schedule through the courts. They agree to just work it out when they can, given how he can be called away at a moment’s notice.
They’re adults. They can handle this.
Once her nerves settle from the initial shock of actually saying the words to him, and she’s had a few days to think on his reaction, she decides she’s pissed.
The easy acceptance ruffles her feathers in a way she can’t put to words. She gave him a decade of her life, a home, three children- has kept everything running seamlessly while he jumped in and out of their lives to answer the call of duty and he didn’t even try to fight for her.
If he was being sullen or grouchy with her it would be easier to process everything- all the things set into motion that she started.
Perhaps she’s projecting. But he just acts like nothing is amiss as he comes by to pick up the boys or drop them off or just stop by to spend time with them.
She wakes up on the 15th and right on time she is awoken by a ding from her phone.
Perhaps, she thinks, it is a lapse in judgment to kick him out for not being around, given that she’s now cut into what already little time he has to spend with them. Isn’t that the focus of her argument? That it’s too difficult for the boys?
Their boys- three of them, each one a head taller than the last- are understandably devastated and struggling to deal with very big, very complex feelings that result in major meltdowns and fights. They blame her and they’re not wrong.
Then one day, when old habits die hard and she confides in John tearfully one day as he’s returned from his latest deployment to see them, while she can’t say it stops all together she can say there’s a marked improvement when they come back.
What did he tell them?
Her phone dings on the 1st like it always does every other week and her agitation is palpable.
She doesn’t even need to look at the notification.
John isn’t missing a beat this entire time and he’s driving her crazy.
The notification is from the bank, of an entirely too large deposit to an account that only she has access to. John’s name is not on it and he can’t touch anything in it.
He can however put money in it.
He is as steadfast and agreeable as always while stubborn enough to just bulldoze into getting his way.
She knows she should be grateful. That so many ex husbands abandon their children and former wives in favor of some shiny new girlfriend. That it would be so easy for him to throw her “if I'm going to be by myself then I'm going to be by myself” back in her face.
Her career had been put on hold with the boys. When everyone was older and in school and didn’t need her so much the plan had been to go back. And then John had kept putting babies in her and the timeline got pushed further back with the subsequent births of their two youngest children.
It would have been so easy for him to tell her to just figure it out herself, that this is what she wants and she can navigate life on her own just fine.
Instead he deposits entirely too much money into an account he can’t access.
She’s not sure why today is different, but she hits her limit and calls him. They’ve never actually spoken about his little transactions.
“You alright, then, love?” She remembers deciding to pick her battles and not harp that she’s not his love anymore.
“What are you doing?”
There’s a brief pause.
“…I’m on base? About to take my lunch, actually. Maybe you can -“ she cuts him off before he can get any further.
“I’m not calling to ask about your day and you know it,” she snaps irritably. “I’m asking about the deposit. What are you doing?”
John, once upon a time, used to tease about his spoiled, hot headed wife. She knows she is being the epitome of spoiled and ungrateful but come on- no one is this agreeable about a divorce. She doesn’t trust it.
“I have no idea what you mean, love.” He assures her good naturedly.
“You have no idea how several thousands have been deposited into my account?”
She wants to reach through the phone to strangle him when she hears that even tempered laugh of his.
“I know how the money got deposited, love- I did it myself. I don’t know why you’re questioning my motives. We both know you haven’t worked outside the home in years- you need money to keep everything going.”
“John, it's too much. I know you know how much I spend in a month!”
He sighs. She can picture him sitting at his desk on base. Sprawled out in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“I don’t want you making decisions out of desperation.” He responds evenly. “The plan wasn’t for you to go to work until the youngest one’s in school next year. You’ve been out of the market for years, I can only imagine an employer trying to use that to short change you.”
He lets out a sigh, and she feels something akin to guilt for freaking out on him.
John’s always been the one to make the best out of a shit situation. To try to steady the boat in the storm. Even when his own wife (ex wife) is the one making waves.
“I don’t want you making decisions out of desperation,” he repeats. “I just want you to be able to raise the boys comfortably without worrying about making ends meet.”
The something coils tighter in her gut.
“I’m sorry,” she apologizes.
“You’re alright, sweetheart,” he assures her and once again she has to bite back a not your sweetheart anymore.
“Now,” there’s the slightest shift to his tone and feels herself falling back into old habits again. As keyed in to him as a dog awaiting her master’s command. “What I was going to say earlier- I’m about to take my lunch. I would appreciate it if you could bring me the boys. I’d like to see them today.”
She can’t very well tell him no now can she?
The boys are her heart and soul but she sees them for exactly who they are- three rambunctious little spitfires always up to something. Good boys, but curious and mischievous. The curse of having smart children.
Until they’re on base at least. All three are quiet as church mice, gathered behind their mother and peering at the soldiers from behind her skirt.
She can’t truly correct the guards at the gate when they greet her as Mrs. Price- she hasn’t changed her name and isn’t sure if she’s going to.
It’s not hers anymore, but it’s still her boys’ name and things are easier. She’d likely have to retrain herself to respond to her maiden name.
The boys are hot on her heels until they stumble across John- as soon as he sees them, dropping a knee with open arms the trio are off like a shot as peals of “Daddy!!” fill the air.
“You can just call me after you’ve finished lunch and I can come get them,” she states amicably, watching John as he wrangles the three of them. The sooner she can get out of here, the better off she’ll be (because God help her, watching him with their oldest two was how she ended up pregnant with the third, and watching him with them now just makes her yearn for something she no longer has any claim to).
Immediately the three boys are protesting, albeit not quite as vocally as they normally would.
“Mummy, no!” “Mum!” “But it’ll be fun!” the trio state their cases to varying degrees.
John shushes the three of them gently to keep them from winding up too much before turning to her. “Come on now, sweetheart, for old time’s sake, hm?”
Their little three stooges voice their approval of that idea, chiming in with various degrees of “Yeah!”
Ultimately it’s the desire to keep her children complacent that has her agreeing. She doesn’t want a scene.
Unfortunately, a (albeit mild) scene is what she ends up having anyway.
She knows (is hopeful, at least) that her oldest doesn’t mean anything by it while they’re waiting for their food and asks “So what time are we going to nana’s later?”
Her eyes snap to him about the same moment as John’s snaps to her, and she’s deliberately trying to avoid his gaze.
Why, oh why, could he not have asked either before or after lunch?
“We’ll probably get ready after we go back home.” she’s careful to keep her tone neutral.
“How fun,” Ah shit, she can hear the suspicion in John’s voice. “Any reason in particular, or just a fun weekend?”
“Just for the night. Mum’s picking us up tomorrow. Right Mum?”
The server chooses that moment to bring their food, which gives her a moment to figure out how the fuck she’s gonna weasle out of this conversation.
“Yes, I’ll come get you after breakfast.”
“Could have called me.”
“That didn’t seem appropriate. They’ll be fine with my mum.” Her gaze drops to her plate, knowing full well if she looks up that his eyes will lock on hers.
“Don’t see what’s inappropriate about me watching my own kids.”
It’s not that she’s happy to squabble with John where the kids have a front row seat, but there is a dark part of her that delights in watching him. He has been obnoxiously agreeable this entire time and the cracks are showing. It makes her feel like she’s dealing with another human being, because she knows she’s got her moments where she loses her mind during all of this and it’s beyond frustrating that he is so dauntless no matter the circumstances in every situation.
“It’s not-” Jesus, does she tell him? What does that conversation look like? “I have plans tonight.”
John is not a stupid man and she can see the moment he realizes she’s not planning a girl’s night out for herself.
That she hadn’t thought it appropriate to ask him to take the kids so she can go on a date with another man.
“I’m watching them,” he asserts before returning to his plate.
“John-”
“I said I’m watching them,” his tone is softer, but leaves no room for argument. Conversation over.
There’s nothing wrong with her date. He is well mannered and polite, attentive when she speaks. No obvious red flags- he doesn’t dismiss her stories, doesn’t shirk back at the mention of her three children, isn’t rude to the server and isn’t texting on his phone opposed to actually engaging with her.
There is nothing wrong with him and for an idle moment she pictures what her could have been like had she married a man like him instead of John. The 9-5, the set routine, the security and reliability of knowing that he is coming home at his regular time and he’ll be there for the boys various sports and activities.
And yet all she can think of is John, who is sitting in their home, watching their children. Of the late night returns from deployment where they’d have their stolen alone time- quiet as church mice so as not to wake the boys who most assuredly would not be going back to sleep if they knew their father was home.
Of the delighted squeals of their children when they come into the room to wake her for breakfast only to find him in bed like nothing was amiss.
(And yes there was always the heartbreak that followed him walking out the door, the anxiety between phone calls that would brew until she once again could assess that he is alive and not dying blown to bits on the other side of the world)
There is nothing wrong with her date but he is not John, and that is an obstacle he will never be able to overcome.
She is safely deposited on her doorstep with polite pleasantries. She thinks he knows, has a kind smile and understanding eyes as she carefully tells him I’m sorry, I thought I was ready but I don’t think I am.
Someone will recognize him as a catch but John never let go of the hold on her heart. Someone will want this man but all she wants is John.
It’s not as late as she thought it would be when she comes home- a fact that John immediately comments on when her eyes land on him while searching for him.
“Well that didn’t last long.” The air feels different from before she left home, and she stands stock still as he rises off the couch and strides towards her.
“I,” she starts and stops, choking on the words. Why the hell did she ever agree to letting him babysit again?
Yes he’s the father of her children and yes she wants him to spend time with them whenever possible but this is just so incredibly awkward for her.
“I don’t think I’ll be seeing him again,” she finishes lamely.
“I would imagine not, if the date ended that quickly. We were always out for hours, weren’t we sweetheart?”
She can’t quite get a read on him but the entire tone of the conversation is… odd. Hell, the entire conversation is odd.
John is not one of her girlfriends for her to cheekily report back how her date went. He’s her ex husband for God’s sake.
“We were,” she agrees amicably- mind spinning with memories of the various times they had stumbled into bed early in the morning, or crawled into the backseat of John’s car like horny teenagers or-
One moment her thoughts are full of the various times John had folded her up like a piece of paper, and the next she’s aware that he’s closed the distance between them while she’s distracted.
“Makes me wonder if that was your plan all along,” he ponders out loud. She squeaks in protest, rooted to the ground and not even attempting to put more space between them.
“Was it? Having me home with the kids while you were out with another man?” His tone holds far more warmth than one would expect of a man all but accusing his (ex) wife of being a hotwife.
John’s hands grip at either side of her hips, thumbs rubbing in affectionate circles. She doesn’t quite know what to do with her own- she can feel the shift in the room. She hasn’t been with anyone since the last time they slept together, and there’s only so much fucking herself can due to take the edge off.
She can’t mimic the weight of a man’s body on top of hers- of his voice rumbling in her ears, the body heat radiating off of him as he coaxes one orgasm after another out of her.
She doesn’t want just a man though, in the broad scope of the term. It’s John.
He stops stroking at her before making a few deliberate swipes. It dawns on her that he’s feeling at the seam of her lingerie set underneath her dress.
“What’s this?” He asks, hands roaming and squeezing at her sides- possibly seeing if he can gauge which set is hidden away by feeling how the fabric wraps around her.
It’s a new one. While she hadn’t been sure about sleeping with her date, the thought of wearing lingerie that at one point had been meant for John felt wrong.
There’s a part of her willing to admit that at the rate things are going, he’s likely going to be christening this one also by the end of the night.
“Were you planning on showing this to him?” John’s enjoying torturing her- dangling the man she wasn’t ever all that interested in just to bait her.
“No, I-,” she hadn’t really thought about it. There was no plan. She was going on a date, so she put on lingerie like she always has.
Like she always did- for him. John would make a game of figuring out which set she had on.
“I just want you,” the truth bubbles out of her throat unbidden.
John descends on her like a man starved- fingers digging into her hips with a grip that she knows is going to leave bruises later.
“Bed,” she mumbles between kisses. Given how John immediately starts herding her backwards towards the bedroom, he’s clearly on board with this plan.
Once the door is shut, the pair cross the room before collapsing against the bed.
Clothes are shed in a hurry, pried off with little regard as they’re shucked to the floor.
“This one looks lovely on you,” John murmurs in praise against her skin as he gropes at the lace adorning her body, dropping to his knees on the side of the bed.
God has she missed this- missed him. The feeling is clearly mutual from the way he busies himself between her legs, lips peppering kisses across her inner thighs quickly while he makes his way towards the spot she wants him most, the gusset of her thong pulled aside.
Just as his breath is fanning over the core of her he pulls back slightly. Her thigh twitches in frustration, so close to finally having the nirvana of his tongue lapping at her only for him to have to be a tease.
“Has anyone else gotten a taste of this sweet cunt?” He asks, eyes on her with an intensity that has her squirming.
“No! There hasn’t been- John, I swear I haven’t-“ she protests.
“I believe you,” he assures her.
She probably should ask if the same could be said for him- for her own sake if nothing else. But she’s already made a slew of questionable decisions that haven’t gone the way she wants, and she errs on the side of not asking questions she doesn’t want an answer to.
Her eyes roll immediately once his mouth is on her. His hands grip at the underside of her thigh, holding them apart to give him unfettered access.
“John,” somehow she can’t quite wrap her mind around the fact that he’s got her back in their bed. Everything is novel and familiar at the same time, and she is overwhelmed by how easy it is to fall back into old habits.
He pulls away just long enough to speak, “I missed you so much,” before going back to eating her out.
John is a man on a mission, and he is familiar enough with her body to know exactly how to get her where he wants her. He also knows all of her tells- God damn him. No sooner has he dragged her to the precipice of her orgasm does he sit back, content to let her dangle but stopping just shy of letting her finally topple over.
“Wh-why?” She whimpers, lust, anticipation and disappointment curling in her gut.
He’s so gentle with her when he takes her left hand in his own, thumb running over her knuckles in soothing movements.
“Where’s your ring, sweetheart?” his question is a non sequitur if she’s ever heard one, head spinning trying to catch up through the haze of pleasure she’d been drowning in just a moment ago.
“My ring?” She mimics more on reflex than anything else, mind still reeling to catch up.
“Yes, sweetheart, your ring.” He repeats, eyeline following hers as her gaze shifts to the jewelry box sitting on the vanity.
There’s no written standard on how long to keep your ring before getting rid of it, and she hadn’t been sure about it. Figured she could always get rid of it later- when it’s never a question of if she’s making the right decision. Even with the ink dried on the paperwork finalizing their divorce, the ring feels like the final nail in the coffin for their marriage.
So she put it in her jewelry box, where it is safe but out of mind and she could worry about it later.
She never thought for a second that ‘later’ would arrive in the form of her ex husband telling her “Go get it and bring it here.”
It’s a beautiful ring; everything she ever wanted growing up. The cut, the size, the setting- John did a lovely job when he picked it out all those years ago.
Gonna be an officer’s wife, sweetheart he’d told her after she’d accepted his proposal. Gotta look the part.
Surely no one can blame her for not gnashing at the bit to part with it?
She hesitates for a moment before ultimately deciding to just do as she’s told- John didn’t tell her to put it back on. So she holds it pinched between her thumb and pointer.
In an alternate dimension, where she’d gone back with her date and let him charm her out of her new lingerie, there would be some insecurity over her body. Bringing three tiny lives into the world takes its toll in the form of stretch marks and loose skin and some extra weight that just clings to her like a needy toddler- but any time John has seen her naked, he is as moon eyed as he was the first time all those years ago. Like he can’t quite believe his luck and he’s not entirely sure she’s real.
Tonight is no exception. As soon as she’s in arms reach his hands settle on her hips, pulling her closer to him.
“We’re going to lay some ground rules, and then I’m going to fuck you into the mattress. Am I clear, pet?” Warmth and affection roll off of his tone in waves despite his words. All she can do is nod dumbly.
“This,” John takes the ring from her before sliding it back on her finger,” stays where it belongs. Right here.”
He pulls her even closer- she has to crane her neck to look up at him. “There’s no more dates with other men. That stops tonight.”
Another easy acquiescence. She nods in agreement.
He spins her slowly, facing away from him and then pulling at her hips so she’s sitting on him. She starts to hover, holding herself up until he swats at the side of her ass. “Now is not the time to play with me,” he warns.
She settles, feeling the mattress dip underneath their combined weight. John clearly has a plan in mind as he guides her to spread her legs, a chill running up her spine as the air laps at her wet cunt. His erection presses heavy at her ass, trapped between his body and her own.
His left middle and ring finger tap at her lower lip and she opens her mouth on reflex. John doesn’t even need to tell her to suck, tongue laving over the thick digits automatically, the same way she would his cock.
“I’m not mad,” he whispers in her ear, pressing a kiss to her temple. “You tried and tried to tell me, and I didn’t take you seriously, did I?”
She can only assume that this is all rhetorical- that there’s no way he can expect an answer out of her considering she’s gagging on his fingers.
“As soon as you told me you wanted a divorce in my office, I knew what it was. You needed my attention, and I wasn’t listening. I don’t blame you. Hell, I practically forced your hand. So I’m not mad,” he reiterates.
“But you’ve got my full attention now, lovely- I can promise you that.”
She twists as much as she’s able, watching John out of the corner of her eye while still sucking; her tongue tasting the metal of his ring as it ran along the base of it.
“We,” he pulls his fingers from her mouth, grinning when she chases his hand slightly, “are going to work this out. I love you, and I have no intention of letting another man raise my children.”
It would be easy to say the arousal dripping from her is left from when John’s mouth was on her, but that would be a lie. Him taking her in hand- literally- and telling her he has no intention of letting her go is definitely doing it for her.
Wet fingers grab at her jaw and turn her head, making her melt into his hold as he kisses her. “There’s my good girl,” his voice is a rumbling timber purring in her ear.
She whines when those two fingers trace down her body- an appreciative squeeze of her breasts trailing to grope at her ass before finally slipping between her legs.
“John,” his name is a whimper against his lips as she wiggles in anticipation.
“So impatient,” he admonishes gently as he works his fingers inside of her.
Warmed by their body heat, his ring isn’t cold against her skin by any stretch of the imagination. If anything, it feels like a white hot branding iron everywhere he touches. That tonight is a reclamation as much as a reunion as he crooks his fingers inside of her.
It was easy to ignore the need that burned in her at night. She’d run herself ragged during the day chasing after children and keeping all her ducks in a row. With John gone, it was easy to shove the desire down and ignore it.
But oh now that he has her in his arms, fingers buried in her as he works her closer to her peak? She feels like she’s on fire. Greed burns at her insides, needing more. Nothing short of climbing inside of him would abate the desire roaring in her body.
Her hips cant in short motions, following the movement of his hand eagerly.
As reluctant as she is to stop kissing him, she can feel a crick in her neck starting to form from keeping her head turned for so long.
Her head lulls against his shoulder when his free hand slips under the lace of her bra and grips one nipple between his middle finger and thumb, his pointer finger teasing the hardened nub in a way he knows drives her absolutely insane.
“Oh my God,” she squeaks just a breath too loud, her hand immediately clamping over her mouth as John pinches her nipple just shy of pain in reprimand. “Not too loud,” he reminds her, mollified when she nods in acknowledgement.
He’s got her panting in need in record time, a small part of her suspicious that he’s going to stop her short of her climax again. The anxiety only serves to fuel the fire burning in her gut, giving the final push to tip her over the edge.
Apparently neither trust her ability to be quiet when her climax hits, because John’s hand abandons teasing her breast in favor of also making sure her cries are muffled. The other is soaked as she squirts, twitching and bucking in his hold.
“Need to shove your face in a pillow,” he comments dryly, a shit eating grin on his face as he takes in her blissed out expression.
He knows her inside and out; knows exactly how long she needs to recover before he’s tapping at her side and prompting her up. “Get on the bed and lay on your back.”
She complies immediately on shaky legs, standing to turn and crawling to the middle of the bed.
John is just as delicious now as he was over a decade ago, and her brain threatens to short circuit watching him crawl over top of her. There’s more grey hairs and fine lines creasing around his eyes, and her heart still thrums in her ribcage like a hummingbird.
She relaxes against the mattress, trusting entirely that John has everything handled. He positions her how he wants, settling between her legs and rubbing the tip of her cock against her wet entrance.
“Please, John, I can’t wait anymore,” she begs, feeling like she’s about to lose her mind. The edge should be taken off considering John’s rather patiently gotten her off already once, and yet if anything it just makes her more frantic. As much as each swipe of his cock against her swollen clit sends tingles of pleasure up her spine, she’s gagging for him and running out of patience.
“You are a spoiled thing,” he admonishes good naturedly like he hasn’t made a habit of indulging her every whim and desire in the past decade up to and including getting a divorce.
“We might have our problems, sweetheart, but being able to fuck you right was never one of them, was it?” John teases as he lines himself up with her. She shakes her head in agreement. If she’s being truthful, that’s partially what had stayed her hand for as long as she had. The frustration with his work being so all consuming it was like his mistress had been a slow boil for quite some time. For years John would mollify her by fucking her into submission- and she has a sinking suspicion that their youngest was an attempt to get her to let up on the subject.
His generosity in the bedroom stems from equal parts wanting to please, and the pragmatic aspect that he is not a small man, and it’s usually easier for everyone involved if he gets her off before attempting penetration.
It’s like they haven’t missed a day- it takes a few thrusts to get her body to spread for him and then all the blood on John’s body dives south for the wet, warm cunt wrapping around his cock.
“This pretty cunt’s got me like a vice, sweetheart,” he praises, leaning down to kiss her.
“I missed you so much,” she whines into the kiss. “It feels so good.”
“I’m not gonna last,” he grunts against her neck, each clap of his hips against hers earning a whine. “You divine creature- got me wrapped around your finger, don’t you?”
An entire relationship’s worth of orgasms makes it so she doesn’t begrudge him that he’s going to be a quick shot tonight. His earlier statement is correct- if there is one thing the man knows how to do, it’s fuck her within an inch of her life. He’s proven that time and time again.
If anything, given their time apart, it appeases some of her anxiety- he must not be getting any from anyone else if he’s already this close to finishing.
“Look at me,” he instructs and she complies immediately. One of his hands strokes her face while his other arm braces his weight above her. “Tell me you love me.”
Her answer is immediate. “I do! John, I love you. I love you so much!”
His hips come to a halt against hers as he grunts against her neck in pleasure. “My perfect girl,” he praises, hands stroking at her sides as he comes down from his high.
She’s so caught up in the lust of the situation that it takes a second for reality to come knocking on her door. “Shit! Pull out!” she tells him, trying to scramble out from underneath him.
“What?” In all their years, ‘pull out’ has never been one of the instructions. He complies even as his brows knit in confusion.
“I haven’t been keeping up with my birth control!” Despite John’s easy assurance that he can just stroll in and assert that they are going to work through things (and she does want to)- adding a new baby on top of their mess will not help get shit sorted out.
Once again, his unflappable attitude has its way of driving her absolutely insane. “Bit late for that, innit? You’ve already had 3 of mine, what’s one more at this point?”
“One more at this point is exactly the point!” she tries to reason.
“We did say a girl would be nice,” he reminds her.
“That was before we got a divorce!” she hisses, trying to be mindful of her volume lest she wake their children.
“That’s nothing but paperwork, pet. We can have it sorted by the time you’re due.” John can tell he’s truly gone and wound her up more than he meant with that, immediately shifting gears to try and settle her back down.
“Okay, too much. I’m sorry. Come here,” he guides her to lay down, which she does albeit with a fair amount of suspicion.
John wisely chooses not to agitate her further or do anything that could be considered pushing in his luck (like, say, pointing out that despite her protests about another baby, she’s not said a peep about the cum dripping from her).
Instead he draws her up into his arms, sticking his nose firmly in her hair.
For a long moment it’s quiet, nothing but the sound of their breathing in the late night.
It catches her off guard when the tears come unbidden. One moment she’s happily lazing in her (ex-turned-hopeful-once-more?) husband’s arms, and the next she’s sobbing uncontrollably.
They’ve been through enough that it shouldn’t embarrass her. For fuck’s sake, she’d vomited all over him during the birth of their second son. But she feels like an exposed livewire sobbing over nothing and without warning.
“What’s wrong?” John mumbles as he wakes half-way, pulling her closer to him and stroking her back to console her.
“I mucked everything up,” she chokes out, burrowing her face against his neck. “I didn’t even want this, I just didn’t know what else to do!”
He shushes her gently, petting at her in an attempt to calm her down. “I meant what I said, pet. I know things have to change, but at the end of the day it’s just papers. We’ll get everything fixed back in its proper place.”
She doesn’t remove herself from the spot on his neck she’s nestling against, but quiets down and eventually they both fall asleep once again.
When she wakes again, she feels far more level headed- although neediness eats away at her. It’s like her body is craving to make up for lost time for the months they’ve been apart.
She can’t help herself as one hand trails down the thick hair dusting his torso, pressing kisses against his neck. Even in his sleep John responds to her touch- pulls at her to be closer to him, huffing as his dick twitches in interest.
It only takes a quick lick of her palm and a few strokes to have him stiffening in her hand.
The dried spend on the inside of her thighs is enough of a reminder, even if she’s feeling affectionate this morning, that she’s going to have to figure something out for her birth control.
For the morning at least the answer to that is easy- still working her hand in slow motion up and down on his shaft she kisses a trail down his neck and working her way south.
The movement is enough to have John stirring with a sinful groan in the back of his throat.
“Well good morning, gorgeous,” he greets, voice clouding in sleep in a way that makes her just want to sit on his face.
Humming out an acknowledgement, she continues to work her way down his abdomen. She does give in to the impulse to nip at the base of his happy trail, delighting in how he sucks back away from her teeth only to push at her head immediately after.
“Bad girl,” he admonishes with no true venom in his voice “Keep those teeth to yourself, hm?” he advises with an affectionate swat to her ass.
Rather than crawling down him, she’s got herself angled perpendicular to him. All the better for him to pet her with one hand while the other encourages her to take him in her mouth.
The moan he makes as she bobs her head is sinful, and she presses her thighs together and shifts her hips to get whatever little bit of friction she can- an action that doesn’t go unnoticed by John.
“That pretty pussy of yours needs some attention, doesn’t it sweetheart?” he asks, a warm hand running down her spine and trailing across her ass until he starts to tease her.
She works with a sense of urgency, even with John taking his time playing with her. They should have another hour or so to themselves before the boys wake up, but they’re also no strangers to a mad scramble under the covers with an unplanned interruption.
“Fuck,” he bites out a curse, hips flexing underneath her. That’s all the encouragement she needs to redouble her efforts, the hand not supporting her weight wrapping around him and stroking to help get him there faster. Despite their years together she’d never quite been able to take all of him down her throat.
“Look at me,” and the eye contact is all it takes for her to feel him stiffening beneath her. “Gonna swallow for me, sweetheart? Yeah, that’s my good girl- keep those eyes on- fuck,” he grunts, his climax hitting.
She’s well versed in swallowing his seed as he cums- keeps up the suction even as his orgasm tapers off just to see how long it takes him to grab her by the hair and pry her off of him.
“Sit on my face. And don’t even think about fucking hovering,” John orders and she complies immediately. His teasing while she’d blown him leaves her a horribly needy mess- None of the pent up lust releasing yet, although anticipation has her scrambling back up the bed and straddling his face.
He pulls at her hips, locking a forearm around her like he wants to make sure she isn’t going to change her mind and start teasing him back.
And fuck does that man know exactly where to lick and suck to make her eyes roll. One of her hands gripping the headboard for dear life, the other one buries itself in John’s hair. He takes direction like a champ, following the not-so-subtle cues from her as she pulls him where she wants him.
“Please, please, please,” she babbles breathlessly as he gets her teetering over the edge, only to release his hair in favor of clamping her hand over her mouth as her orgasm washes over her.
Her legs are weak as he guides her back down before getting her on her back and kissing her until she’s breathless. As engrossing as their make out session is, neither one particularly cares that they can taste themself on the other.
Eventually the pair wear themselves out, calming down from their earlier romp and managing to get into the shower and cleaning up.
It’s only after they’ve escaped the pull of their marital bed, as the water washes the lust out of her system that the reality of the situation comes knocking again, insistent.
“I want this to work, John.” She wants to melt at the way his expression softens at her.
“I do too, sweetheart- you have no idea how much.” A sigh escapes her, already fearing that they’re back on their loop that’s been the routine for the past decade. “What’s that for, hm?” he inquires.
“I want this to work, John,” she repeats “but things have to change. I mean it.”
“ I know you do,” he assures her, reaching down to kiss her temple. “I believe you.”
She’s uncertain if her refusal to be mollified is her winding herself into a snit again, or because she’s justified in the knowledge that this isn’t the first time they’ve had this conversation.
Especially when his palm drops to hover over her belly.
“You can’t try to get me pregnant if you’re not retiring from the field, John,” she asserts. “I can handle the boys, I cannot handle a fourth baby by myself.”
And much like a kind stranger trying to lure a skittish stray dog into their car, John hums in agreement.
Retirement from the military as a whole, she knows, is far too much of an ask. John has spent his entire adult life serving and it will probably take a career ending injury to get him to agree to retire outright. However she’ll happily settle for him promoting high enough that he’s not one of the first people contacted when they need boots on the ground. She just wants her husband home. She’s paid her dues being the sweet housewife raising the kids alone while he plays hero on the other side of the world. He’s beyond capable of climbing the ranks to one that involves less clandestine missions and more paperwork, and it’s absolutely infuriating that he hasn’t.
(She knows it’s not entirely a blind devotion to country and crown and preventing acts of terrorism, and the fact that he enjoys fucking off to who-knows-where at the drop of a hat- never knowing where he’ll be 24 hours from now at any given time, and he doesn’t want to give that up yet. She tries not to think about it too hard though, otherwise she’ll melt down like chernobyl.)
The hot water runs out before John’s refractory period, which is a good thing for her sake because she’s a scatter brained mess right now. The man’s not 20 and she doesn’t begrudge him the time it takes to recuperate, but she’s swinging wildly between being sappy and sentimental and wanting back what she had, and knowing full well she needs to get a grip before she does something stupid like letting John talk her into trying for a girl.
By the time they dry off and dress there are three hungry boys who are in for quite the surprise to see their dad come morning. No doubt there had been a reasonable expectation that John would leave in the middle of the night after they went to bed.
John keeps the boys distracted and out of her hair as she gets their breakfast sorted.
Before the divorce, the pair of them would go about their separate routines; making their morning caffeinated beverages of choice, idly commenting on the latest news headline, alternating getting things sorted for their children.
Now John hovers. Like he’s not entirely certain if he wants her out of his sight. He wrangles the boys to their seats as she gets their food, but it’s like one eye is kept trained on her.
Before the divorce, her children would make their protests- high pitch peals of ew! (The youngest, she suspects, merely imitating his older brothers who get a kick out of their parents' displeased stares) if they witnessed any displays of overt affection. While of course anything where they could see was kept G rated, once the boys thought something was funny they committed to the bit entirely.
Now, while she’s distracted by John giving a chaste kiss to her temple and running his hands up and down the sides of her arm, she realizes that the boys are as silent as the grave. Three sets of owlish eyes watch them intently before comically making a big show of going back to their breakfast as they realize they’re caught.
“John,” she starts quietly, eyes watching the boys before shifting her attention back to her husba- ex-husband. “We really need to talk about this. Actually talk.” Not just fuck each other silly - she knows they’ll just slip back into old habits. They need ground rules.
She knows how her husband works. If she can wrangle him into actually agreeing with a discussion, that is workable. John’s got his quirks and idiosyncrasies that she’s learned over the years. He won’t outright lie to her, he won’t go back on his word if he commits to something. But he will push and widdle and chip away at her to keep her compliant and happy enough to get off his dick (usually by putting her on his dick. Or mouth. Or hands. Or-
Anyway.)
“We will, sweetheart. Let’s just get through breakfast, hm?”
It is so familiar and yet still so different. The boys are running a mile a minute, eagerly soaking up the additional time with their father (the guilt gnaws at her- knows this could just be a normal morning. Had she either never divorced him, or kept him firmly away. This hemming and hawing that feels inevitable can not be good for the boys).
Screentime is a bit of a hot topic, but they need the boys content and quiet long enough for them to speak without interruptions.
The eldest is a bit too old for the target demographic for Bluey, but his handheld console is enough to keep him entertained.
She can’t help but feel like her oldest boy and John are conspiring- John firmly telling him “Your mother and I need to have a little talk with no interuptions. You keep an eye on your brothers, got it?” only for the oldest to salute him with a “Yes, sir!” that has John grinning as he herds her towards his office with a hand low on her back.
The click of the door sliding shut is as loud as a gunshot.
“I know I pushed too far,” John begins. The pair of them stand in front of each other. “You kept asking for the same thing over and over again. I never thought you would actually leave, but I can’t say I was surprised when you asked for a divorce. You were trying, and I wasn’t listening. I meant what I said last night. I’m not mad.”
It…. stings. Knowing the truth the whole time- John thinking he can just wait her out. That he can lean on her despite her protests and eventually she’ll give up. But it’s a dull pain, considering it’s something she’s lived with for years. She’s well familiar with it.
“So why? Why let it get that far. I know what you do is important. I know it’s selfish to ask you to give that up, but we’ve got three kids, John. You want a fourth! It is so hard to be the one who stays with them when you leave. They don’t grasp the situation. They just know that their dad’s gone and they miss you. And I cannot breathe when you are deployed and sent off to fuck-knows-where dealing with some of the most violent, dangerous groups on the planet. What if you don’t come home? How am I supposed to raise them without you?”
Sharp words coming from the same woman who kicked John out. But it’s the same story he’s been hearing for the better part of decade ever since their first was born. He can likely recite her speech from the heart at this point.
Like always, John is steadfast in the storm no matter how far into orbit she flies. He’s well acquainted with her whims, and knows just how easy it is to rile her up and yet also knows exactly how to bring her back down.
At the moment her expression is similar to that of a wet hen’s.
“I didn’t think you’d leave.” It’s the truth and she knows it and it pisses her off. “I knew you weren’t happy with it, but overall we were happy with each other. I wasn’t cheating on you. I’m not a mean drunk. I might be absent at times but I’m not cruel. I keep you happy in bed. You want for nothing. The boys know I adore them. Every marriage has its problems. I thought we both understood that the nature of my job is ours.” He sighs, rubbing a hand down his face.
“I didn’t know what else to do,” she reiterates, and she’s not sure if her voice warbles from how angry she is at the confirmation that he thought he could wait her out until he felt like retiring (or, more likely- she buries him), or at herself because she picked him and how mad can she be when he’s been honest about his work from the start.
There’s no clear cut villain. John is right. His job has weighed down on them since the beginning. In the beginning she thought she could handle it. But three children later and she’s begun to realize- far too late- that it’s so much. Subjecting them to something they never asked for because they were born into this schedule where John is beholden to Kate fucking Laswell more than his own family (peace and love to her- she’s great but she is the walking representation of everything they are struggling with in their marriage).
Her mind is a jumbling mess, like twine that’s interlocking and needing to unravel. There’s no clear cut path forward. She will go absolutely insane if things continue on the way they have been, but the time apart has shown her that she doesn’t really want to separate from John. No other man can even come close to him.
“So now what do we do?” she asks.
John steps closer to her, reaching to run his knuckles across her cheek in affection. “I want to come home, sweetheart.”
“It’s not that easy.”
She expects some sort of protest. Some sort of Yes it can be, and she’s not sure if she’s got the mental fortitude to continue holding her ground. But she knows that nothing will change if she lets up now. This is the moment where she either needs to throw in the towel, or maybe- just maybe there’s a chance.
They’ve made it this far. But she is so tired. She can’t go back but she’s got no idea what’s ahead or how long it will take to get there.
“I know. All I’m asking for is a chance.”
“It is your last one John, I swea-” She’s always hated that stupid fucking movie trope where the man shuts the woman up by kissing her. Yet here she is, her (fragile) attempt at a stern warning cut off as John snatches her up and pulls her to him.
After last night, one would think they’d gotten enough of each other to not be groping at each other like animals in heat.
Mother fucker he’s doing it again. He doesn’t fight as she pulls away, though those pretty blue eyes are blown showing where he would have been heading had she not stopped him.
“I mean it, John. You said you want this to work, but I need to see changes. You need to be home and not fucking off half away across the world at the drop of a hat. I need to be able to make plans and know that you will be here.”
“Anything, sweetheart. I just want my family back. I swear, I’m listening this time. I’ll figure it out.”
The lust has calmed from his eyes as he approaches again, making her look up at him. “You remember our little conversation from last night?”
He looks as serious as a heart attack, and there was a lot said last night.
She’s taking too long to answer, as he continues unprompted. “I know you’re not going to sign the papers overnight, and I’m fine with that. But your ring stays on, and there are no more dates with other men. You are mine. You are not single, and I expect you to act like it, hm?”
The chaste kiss to her temple is a sharp juxtaposition to the severity of his tone. He certainly doesn’t need to tell her twice.
“I promise,” she assures him, seeing how the intensity drains out of him as he’s mollified by her words. “I know I don’t have a right to ask, but did you- was there-” the words choke as she stumbles over them. She can’t be mad. She’s got no right to- they are divorced, and he (was) single and free to do as he pleases. But the idea of John drowning his sorrows in another woman’s body makes her want to claw someone’s eyes out.
And she really should have asked before he fucked her without a condom, but hindsight is 20/20.
Despite her inability to get the words together in the right order, John seems to know her question. He pulls her close to him, tucking her under his chin.
“No, sweetheart. There was never anyone else.”
The knot in her gut unwinds a little bit. “I love you, John. I’m sorry it came to this.”
“We’ll fix it, sweetheart.”
For a moment they stand there in the quiet, but there was no telling what sort of trouble their little trio might get into if left alone for too long. When John unlocks and opens the door, they both raise an eyebrow at the sight of their youngest dashing off around the corner.
Like the three little troublemakers had tried to listen through the door (which they would not be able to do- because she has tried once or twice), and the youngest was too slow to keep up with his brothers who are perched on the couch for all the world like they never left it.
The older two try to play their hand at staying cool, although the youngest boy is giggling- enjoying his “game” of teaming up with his brothers to try and pull a fast one on their parents.
“Do you have to leave?” The question from their oldest is deliberate, and succeeds in distracting them from the fact that their kids were definitely trying to eavesdrop on a conversation not meant for young ears.
“Not today,” John answers, ignoring the sharp look she shoots his way.
It’s a delicate balancing act as they stumble through picking up the broken pieces of their marriage. John can’t prove that he’s controlling his work hours unless she lets him in the house, but does give him shit about not moving in too soon. She doesn’t want him getting comfortable or complacent and back sliding on his promise.
Of course, John gets his lick back. There had been a stern conversation about condoms until her birth control is in hand.
Only to find out at her appointment that they can’t give it to her because she’s pregnant.
Mother fucker. Damn that “one shot, one kill” motherfucker. Their one slip up was the only discrepancy since they have gotten back together- that has to be when she conceived. Why did she fall in love with a sniper?
John is ecstatic with the news, as are the boys. She feels like a wet, disgruntled hen.
The new baby throws a wrench in her plans, but she can’t quite find it in her to be too disappointed once the shock wears off. John had been set on another baby, chattering on and on about how he hopes it’s a girl. They would have had another baby at some point, it’s just a bit sooner than she was anticipating.
No doubt for the boys, the new baby is an assurance that their parents aren’t staying separated. In their simplistic view, that’s as good as ink drying on paper that they’re staying together.
At her scan when it’s revealed she’s carrying boy #4, John kisses her temple and tells her how happy he is.
The youngest daughter that he’s got his sights set on is shelved for the duration of her pregnancy, not another peep of it mentioned.
A girl would have been nice, but she’s well experienced with wrangling John Price’s sons, and no doubt this one will fall into the group just fine.
John’s got quite the track record of giving her pretty babies, which everyone praises and compliments when the little man finally makes his arrival.
When he is home (which has been substantially more, she has to admit), he’s an active and involved father who’s besotted by his children and happily splits night duty with his exhausted wife. Keeps the older boys in line and behaving.
She doesn’t sign anything until John has a signed transfer request. While he’ll still be working in counter terrorism, and still be very close with the 141, his job no longer mandates he ups and leaves at the drop of a hat.
They celebrate quietly. Friends and family have made their opinions known about the back and forth tentative future of their marriage (mostly a well intended shit or get off the pot), and they elect to drop the boys with John’s parents to have a weekend for themselves.
There are no lusty slip ups and everything is followed to the letter but she wants to kill John when he grins at her positive pregnancy test.
Everything can fail, it seems. John merely commenting “Maybe this one will be a girl”, showing his hand that he hasn’t quite given up his dreams of a youngest girl to round out their gaggle of boys.
She doesn’t want to know the gender this time around, which John grouses about but ultimately accepts.
When Lt. Simon “Ghost” Riley promotes to a new rank, John is the one the man calls to ask him to participate in his ceremony.
She’s still in her second trimester, not quite teetering into her third just yet. John wants to bring the kids. If the third trimester exhaustion had stuck yet, she likely could have begged to be left out and he likely would have acquiesced. And the boys usually know better than to try anything when on base with John.
The day comes and she feels like a walking stereotype of an officer’s wife- gaggle of kids clinging to her skirt, the newest baby still clinging to her, and an unmistakable pregnancy bump.
“Cookin’ another boy in there, Mrs. Price?” Soap asks good naturedly while they’re waiting.
“Not quite sure,” she answers, eyes on her three more mobile kids making sure they’re settling in and behaving. “John’s been itching for a girl since before this one came,” she gestures to their youngest in her arms.
“Well, hopefully it’a girl then for yer sake- man’s gonna give ya a football team at this rate!” the Scot laughs, chortling at his own joke. There are times when she sometimes wonders how someone as charming as Johnny Mactavish got wrangled into clandestine counter terrorism missions, but then she remembers that as much as he can charm a bird from a tree, it’s comments like that that skirt just too comfortable that yes, he’s probably got a few screws loose. (She sometimes wonders about Kyle too, who is giving Johnny a “fucking really??” look, but can’t quite pin anything. The man is perfectly mild mannered and respectable, and she knows that their work can warp someone given enough time.)
“Hopefully so,” she answers amicably. While her pregnancy has been blessedly uneventful, she’s already over it and will be perfectly happy with this being her last.
Something tells her that John is going to get his wish, one way or another though.
Age in bio/pinned or I will block you ♡
#captain john price#John Price x reader#john price x you#captain price smut#dub con#dark!fic#<- that is just my typical 'catch all' blocklist tag for anyone who doesn't wanna read anything dark/dubious/etc.#I am being conservative with using the tag pinky promise#my writing
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I've been listening to the prophecy by taylor and i have thoughts, so bare with me on this one.
some people might look at this thing like a superpower, like something cool to trick people with or scare the shit out of them.
tommy thinks of it more as a curse than anything else. a punishment from above— maybe he's done awful, terrible things in some pasts lives and now he's paying the consequences.
truth is, he doesn't know. he can guess, can try to feel his way through the dark like a lost, blind man, but he's probably never gonna know why he is the way he is, why he can see the things he sees.
it started around the time he was nine, he thinks. when he went to hug her grandma, and suddenly he had this vision— like a short movie playing in his head, of how his grandma would die.
tommy hugged her and then there it was in his mind, he could hear her heartbeat and saw her laying in bed, so calm and at peace in her sleep, when her heart slowly stops.
tommy remembers crying out, screaming, pulling away from her in fear, much to the confusion of everyone in his family. his grandma was okay! she was right there! no one believed him when he told them what he saw, what he felt.
(nana june died that very night, in her sleep. just like tommy predicted.)
tommy realized pretty quickly that this was not something he could share with anyone else. not when he ran into his teacher at the grocery store three weeks later and saw how the woman would die in a tragic car crash in just a couple of weeks. not when he kissed a boy for the very first time when he was sixteen and saw he would die from a freak accident at a football game, of all places— a fatal hit to the head would be the end of a life cut too short.
his life became a swirl of death and fear and loneliness.
he pulled away from everyone. what was the point anyway? if he knew the end of their stories? why get atta hed, get close, when he knew the specific details of their deaths and would have to bare that weight on his shoukders all on his own?
(he made the mistake once of falling in love when he was in college. with matthew— a guy who would die of old age, at ninety-five years old. at home, holding the hand of his husband... that was definitely noy tommy.
it was okay. he figured he could have some fun and enjoy whatever time he could. but it only earned him a broken heart and matthew calling him a freak when tommy explained why he couldn't say i love you to him, why he couldn't truly commit.
he has trusted matthew with his deepest secret, with this curse that tommy has no other choice but to live with it. and it ended up in tears and half the campus thinking he was a psycho.)
since then, tommy vowed to never make that mistake again. to keep his distance with people.
and he's been successful, for the most part. he has some friends, of course, but he doesn't let his relationships get too deep, keeping everyone at arm's length.
it's for the best, really.
and he's... not happy, but content. maybe. comfortable.
until evan buckley comes crashing into his life, figuratively and literally speaking.
the guy is— adorable.
tommy has no other word to describe him.
evan is energetic and enthusiastic, passionate about every single thing he says and does. he's reckless and loud and everything's tommy has soent a lifetime running away from.
when buck touches him for the first time, it sends electricity to every one of his nerves. it's intoxicating and amazing and warm, and tommy never wants it to end.
then, the curse kicks in. a little later than usual— as if mocking tommy, almost. teasing him with a tiny taste of what normal looks like and then reminding him he can never have it, not for real.
the first time buck touches him, it's at chimney's wedding— he's drunk and sweaty, cheeks pink and flushed and a boyish smile plastered on his face. he practically draps himself next to tommy's side, leans all his weight against him as he hums the lyrics of the song plahing in the background out of tune.
it's fun and heavenly for a couple of seconds, until tommy gets the vision.
buck in a month, maybe a month and a half. hanging from the firetruck ladder as the sky falls around him, lightning striking him right in the chest and making his heart stop.
#idk what this is tbh#im probably gonna keep writing it tho#maybe(????#evan buckley#tommy kinard#buck x tommy#bucktommy#kinkley#bucktommy fic#bucktommy wip#911 fic#911fic#911 wip#911 abc#911 on abc#april rambles#my writing#april writes
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growing pains : act three, part eighteen (2/2)
series synopsis : people say that you’ll experience three kinds of love in your lifetime. the first is an idealistic love, the kind that feels straight out of a fairy tale. the second is the hard love, the kind that will leave you with lessons about yourself and the love you want and need to experience. finally, the love you never see coming. this is the story of your three loves.
pairing : svt 97 line x gn!reader
genre/s : non-idol au, coming of age, angst, fluff, my attempts at humor
act three, part eighteen (2/2) wc : 1k
act three : the unexpected love ➤ part 18 : it's all in the timing
after years studying and working abroad, yn is finally back home to a new job and new faces. all they want now is to focus on nothing else but their career and one of their coworker’s friends, minghao, makes it all the more interesting.
previous ➤ act three, part eighteen (1/2)
next ➤ act three, part nineteen
growing pains ➤ masterlist
you don’t know if it’s by drink four or song fifteen that you decided you need some fresh air.
it was rather easy to slip away unnoticed. seungcheol was basically pouring alcohol straight into people’s mouths, a line had formed in front of him and he was more than happy to pour some into his own. soonyoung and dino were dancing their hearts out to whatever pop song seokmin and jihoon were singing along to. even as you exited the doors, with every step you took, you could hear the unrestrained laughter, the lively chatter, the thump thump thumping of the bass from the abnormally large speakers.
yeah, it was easy to slip away unnoticed.
at least, you thought so until you hear distant footsteps grow louder and louder until you could feel a presence behind you.
the corner of your mouth twitched upwards, tilting your head up to the clear sky.
“what are you doing out here?” the words fall past your lips and into the still night air. “you should be drunk or on the dancefloor. or both.”
minghao chuckles, soft and serene, taking a couple of steps forward until his arm brushes against yours. “i could ask you the same thing, you know. this celebration’s partly for you.”
“i know.” you let out a breath, refusing to look at him. even though you know he’s looking right at you. his gaze has always been intense, and for a time you found it quite intimidating. it used to feel like he was examining you, scrutinizing every quirk of your brow or purse of your lips.
but now it felt like an entirely different thing. almost comforting.
he’s studying you, feeling out how you’re feeling with every word and breath that escaped you, yet you know you have nothing to be conscious of.
“i get it,” he stuffs his hands in the pockets of his trousers, “it’s nice out here.”
“mhmm.” you hum, and there’s a part of you that expected your heart to thump out of your chest. for you to hear the ringing of its beating in your ears, so loud that you couldn’t quite ignore it. but it’s not there. it’s quiet, tranquil, at peace.
no panic, no uncertainty, no fear.
it’s the feeling you once felt with seokmin, before time and distance had shaken the idealism of young love.
it’s the feeling you chased after, the feeling you craved in mingyu, in a period in your life when you would have given him the world. only if he had asked.
“what are you thinking about?” minghao nudges your shoulder, eyes expectant and his head tilted to the side.
you blink and a beat passes. then another. and another.
the word slips past your lips before you could even have the time to process it. “you.”
minghao’s breath hitches, and suddenly he’s all too aware of his own body. he feels his breathing, the air that’s coming in and out of his lungs. he hears his heartbeat ringing in his ears, thumping to the sound of your voice. he notices the palms of his hands, cold, needing the warmth that emanated from yours.
it’s a common feeling when he’s around you.
there’s always a rush of feelings, emotions, that courses through his veins. awe, hope, intrigue, delight, sometimes even tinges of fear and anxiety. how could a single person make him feel so much?
he fights the smile that’s threatening to spread across his lips, “what about me?”
“sometimes,” you pause, and your mind flashes to the past few months you’ve spend with him. the times he’s helped you out professionally and personally. the late nights you’ve spent together, going over raw shots of a shoot you had previously done. the early mornings spent running through now familiar city streets, discovering little cafes and restaurants you never would have known existed. the afternoons running random errands, from grocery shopping to laundry.
for a moment, you’re taken back to several years ago. to a park in new york city. to a stranger handing you back your camera after he had spent two days trying every possible phone number combination.
“i look at you and i think,” you exhale. no turning back now. “here you are. where have you been? i’ve been waiting for someone like you.”
heat rushes to minghao’s cheeks, and once again you’ve made him aware that his heart is beating, blood is rushing through his veins. he’s alive, and he knows he is because he feels.
there will never be a word that will fully capture just how much he feels for you, but he’ll try his best.
“i adore you.” his thumb gently moves on your cheek, his free hand grabbing the edge of your coat to pull you closer to him. “and if it’s any consolation, i’m sorry it took me so long to find you again.”
“i forgive you.” a laugh escapes your lips and you rest your forehead against his.
you wonder what your life would have been like if you met him earlier, if he had gone to the same high school as you. or perhaps if you had met him in your college years, if you had kept contact after he had returned your camera.
there’s really nothing to forgive.
there’s only so much to be thankful for.
to fresh-out-of-high school you and seokmin for taking the leap and chasing after your dreams, even if it meant potentially losing the romantic relationship you had built.
to post-college you and mingyu, for loving each other enough to let go of each other too.
to the you of today, who didn’t stand their ground on a misguided first impression, to keeping an open heart and mind to grow and learn.
“do you really?”
minghao’s voice pulls you back into reality. you nod.
“hm. maybe i should take out on a date, just to be sure.” his lips brush past your ear, breath warm on your neck, pulling back to ask, “what do you say?”
“i’d like that a lot, hao.”
from reese, with love <3
the words 'i like you' and 'i love you' don't feel enough for ynhao... they just know
anyways, it's currently 12:15 am and i was going to sleep but i got way too excited so i'm posting this now! i know this has been a long time coming for ynhao, i hope i was able to them justice.
thank you for reading, just a couple more parts to go :) all the replies/rbs/asks are always appreciated. i'm going to sleep now hehe i'll see you in the morning and i hope you're all doing well <3
also i cannot get spell out of my head, help!
#🎐 — growing pains!#seventeen x reader#minghao x reader#seokmin x reader#mingyu x reader#seventeen imagines#seventeen fluff#seventeen smau#seventeen series#svt x reader#svt imagines#svt fluff#svt smau#svt series#minghao imagines#minghao fluff#minghao smau
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Adventures in Babysitting - Steve Harrington x female!reader - Chapter 17
Chapter Summary: After finding out more information about Vecna, you and your friends prepare for the worst, and tensions rise as you mentally prepare for the possibility of a future without you in it.
Content Warning: swearing, general angst, mentions of sex (like nothing graphic or explicit), Jason being a dick, Upside Down scary shit, existential dread
Word Count: 7.7k
Author’s Note: Hey guys! I’m so sorry that this took so long for me to get written! I am home for summer now, so I’m hoping to have some more down time to write, so hopefully the next chapter won’t take so long! I also am curious as to what you guys think I should do with the story regarding the fact that season 5 isn’t out yet…should I go on hiatus until season 5 drops or would you rather me write an ending with season 4?
Message me to be added to the taglist and get updated when the next chapter is posted! I highly recommend this if you want to keep up with the story since I don’t do regular updates!
Series Masterlist | Part 16 | Next Part
***
Steve felt your body go limp as you dropped the makeshift rope, your head lolling backwards as you collapsed towards him. His heart stopped as he swiftly set you down on the floor next to him, pulling back to look at you.
He felt sick to his stomach when he noticed the way your eyes were rolled into the back of your head, and he felt like he was suffocating on the ash that drifted in between the two of you.
“Y/n,” he shook your shoulders, desperation lacing his voice. You didn’t respond, the only indication that you were still there was a slight whimper that escaped your parted lips. He shook you more aggressively and felt like he could vomit at the way your body caved to inertia.
You were somewhere else.
“Y/n, baby—stay with me!” Steve shouted, his voice cracking as fear invaded his tone, “Wake up, y/n! Wake up!”
His eyes were welling with tears and he felt like his legs were going to give out as panic began to fill his chest. He felt like he was drowning. You had always been his lifeline and he felt like he was watching you fade from existence. Blood started to drip from your nose, and he gently wiped it away, breaking down at the sight of it.
“Come on, y/n,” he sobbed as he pulled you closer, trying to shield you from the dangers of this strange world. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” he whispered into your neck as he buried his head there, placing a small kiss against your skin.
He heard arguing above him, and his attention was momentarily pulled back towards the world he was trying desperately to get you back to.
“Madonna, Blondie, Bowie, Beatles—Music! We need music!” Robin’s voice rang out, and he heard the clatter of mixtapes falling to the floor.
“This is music!” Eddie shouted back.
Suddenly, Steve remembered the walkman in your pocket, and his fingers furiously pulled at the ziplock bag. His hands were shaking and he cursed himself as he struggled to get the bag open. He placed the headphones over your ears, hitting play and turning the volume up. He could hear the music faintly playing and watched as your eyes continued their rapid movement side to side underneath your eyelids.
He held his breath, hoping that something—anything—would change, and he thought the world was ending when it didn’t.
But then, suddenly, your eyes shot open as a gasp escaped your lips. You began falling backward and Steve barely had time to wrap his arms around your back to slow your fall, dropping to the floor with you.
You panted and your whole body trembled at the horrors you just witnessed. Vecna—or more accurately Henry Creel’s voice still rang in your ears as you hyperventilated, trying to push the images aside. As you began to settle, another voice filled your consciousness.
“It’s okay, baby. I’m here. I’m right here,” you looked up to see your boyfriend’s big brown eyes staring down at you with concern and love and all the words he still had yet to say to you.
Your terrified expression broke into one of great sadness as tears began to fall down your face while sobs wracked your tired frame.
“Sweetheart,” Steve’s voice was a whisper as he wiped away your tears, neglecting the ones that were falling from his own eyes. He cradled your head in his hands and you melted at his touch. In this moment, it was just the two of you; nothing else mattered and nothing else existed.
You took in the sight of Eddie’s denim vest draped over his shoulders, your eyes drifting to his bare arms and the blood and dirt caked against his skin. “We have to get out of here,” you whispered, your fingers gripping into his bicep.
With that, Steve swiftly stood up, and helped you back onto the makeshift rope. You felt his hand on your ass as he pushed you up, trying to quicken the pace at which you climbed. You saw the way your friends stared at you from the real world, concern lacing their features. As you crossed the threshold between the Upside Down and your world, you felt your stomach drop as the gravity switched directions. Your heart jumped to your throat as you free fell for a moment before hitting the springy mattress with the questionable stains.
You didn’t lie there for long before Robin grabbed your arm, pulling you to your feet and into the tightest hug she’d probably ever given you. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying not to cry at the horrors you’d just witnessed as you held on to her. You released a breath you didn’t even realize you’d been holding as you heard a soft thud behind you, knowing your boyfriend had made it safely out of the hell that you’d just been stuck in for far too long for your liking.
“We can stay at my house tonight,” Max spoke up and you broke away from Robin to face her, “my mom should be gone until tomorrow afternoon so we should be fine.”
And with that, you all quickly made your way over to Max’s under the cover of night. Once you got there, everyone spread out as much as possible in the small home to camp out to sleep and Steve and you curled up together on the floor in the living room.
You shut your eyes tight as you tried to tune out the ticking of a small clock on the living room shelf. You buried your face in the crook of Steve’s neck as you both drifted off into a restless sleep.
***
The next morning everyone gave you a bit of space and no one really talked much, giving you a bit of time to cool down from the events of the night before. When you were finally ready, you all huddled up in the living room and everyone waited with bated breath for you to explain what you saw.
You cleared your throat before you spoke up. “He…showed me things that haven’t happened yet. The most awful things. I saw a dark cloud spreading over Hawkins. Downtown on fire. Dead soldiers. And this…giant creature with…a-a gaping mouth, a-a-and this creature wasn’t alone; there were so many monsters—an army—and they were coming into Hawkins, into our neighborhoods…our homes.”
You could barely get some of the words out, taking a deep breath before you continued. “And then he showed me my parents, and-and you guys and you w-were all….” Your voice trailed off as a lump formed in your throat, unable to say the words, afraid that you would speak it into existence. Tears began streaming down your face and Steve was quick to try and ease your pain.
“Okay, but…he’s just trying to scare you, baby. Right? I mean, it’s not real,” he tried to be the voice of reason, but his tone showed his lack of confidence in the truth he was trying to present. The real truth was that none of you knew what was going on, what would happen next.
“Not yet,” you whispered through teary eyes, “but…but there was something else. He showed me gates. Four gates, spreading across Hawkins. They looked like the one outside Eddie’s trailer, but they didn’t stop growing, and this wasn’t Upside Down Hawkins, this was our Hawkins.”
You looked between your friends, each one’s face twisted with worry and fear. The kids all looked so much older, the weight of the world constantly on their shoulders aging them, causing them to grow up too fast. You pushed the thought down as you continued. “Four chimes. Vecna’s clock always chimes four times. He’s been telling us his plan this whole time.”
“Four kills, four gates, end of the world,” Lucas spoke up, elaborating on your explanation.
“If that’s true,” Dustin took over, “he’s only one kill away.”
You felt everyone’s eyes turn to you, and you shrank under their stares, knowing that you were next.
“Try them again, try them again,” Steve looked at Max and she rushed to the phone. Max fingers worried at the cord of the phone before she hung it back up and turned around.
“Rang a few times and then went to busy signal,” she announced.
“Maybe you punched it in wrong, just try again,” Steve pushed, desperation lacing his tone.
“I didn’t punch it in wrong,” Max rolled her eyes.
“Dude I think she knows how to use a phone,” Dustin defended the redhead.
Max dialed again anyway, hanging up the phone with a resounding clang before turning around with a look that screamed I told you so plastered across her face. “Same shit.”
“I told you, Joyce has this telemarketer job. She’s always on the phone, Mike’s always whining about it,” Dustin explained.
“Yeah, but the phone’s been busy for, what, three days now? That’s not Joyce. No way. Something’s wrong,” Max countered.
“Whatever’s happening in Lenora, it’s connected to all of this,” you spoke up. “But Vecna can’t hurt them…not if he’s dead. We have to go back to the Upside Down.”
Steve and Eddie both immediately voiced their disagreement, Steve standing to put his two cents in.
“Woah, woah, woah, let’s think this through,” he put his hands up in a pacifying way trying to calm down your impulsivity.
“What is there to think through?!”
“Y/n, we barely made it out of there in one piece!”
“Yeah, because we weren’t prepared! But this time we will be. We’ll get weapons and protection, we’ll go through the gate, we’ll find his lair, and we’ll kill him.”
“Or he’ll kill us!” Steve yelled back at you. “The only reason you survived is because he wanted you to. He’s not scared of us and I’ll be damned if I let him have a chance to hurt you again. No, not happening.”
He said the words with such finality, but you opened your mouth to argue with him again, anger boiling below the surface. Before you could speak, Robin spoke up.
“We learned something new about Vecna/Henry/One…He’s a number like Eleven, only a sick, evil, male, child-murdering version of her with really bad skin, but-but my point is, he’s super powerful. He could turn us inside out with the snap of his fingers, it is not a fair fight.”
“So why fight fair?” Dustin interjected, “he’s like Eleven but that gives us an upper hand. We know Eleven’s strengths and weaknesses. When El remote-travels, she goes into this sort of trance-like state. I bet the same is true of Vecna. When he attacks his next victim, I bet he’s back in that attic, physical body defenseless.”
“Defenseless? Yeah? What about the army of bats?” Steve gestured to the deep bruising around his neck from his last encounter with Vecna’s very present defenses.
“True. We’ll have to find a way past them. Distract them…somehow,” Henderson replied.
“And, uh, how do we do that exactly?” Eddie looked like he was damn near close to killing the boy.
“No idea. But once they’re gone, he doesn’t stand a chance. It’ll be like slaying sleeping Dracula in his coffin.”
“That all sounds good in theory, but there is no pattern to Vecna’s killings. I mean, at least not one that I can decipher. We don’t know when he’s going to attack next. We don’t even know who he’s going to attack next.” Robin countered.
“Yeah we do,” you spoke up, “I can still feel him. I ditch Kate Bush and I draw his focus back to me.”
“No way in fucking hell!” Steve was quick to cut across the room to approach you. “He’ll kill you!”
“I survived before, I can survive again…I-I just need to keep him busy long enough so that you guys can get into that attic.”
“There’s got to be another way,” Steve pleaded, grabbing your hands in his, his thumbs gently rubbing over the back of your hands.
“Maybe there is,” Dustin spoke up. “Y/n, other than last night—which was clearly just a scare tactic—the last vision you had was in the cemetery, right?”
“Yeah?” Your words came out as a question, not quite following the fast paced turning of the gears in the young genius’s mind.
“Well, then maybe he isn’t after you anymore…I mean, you basically found the antidote. He can’t get to you with that music playing, so maybe you don’t have to be bait at all…maybe he’s moved on to someone else.”
“That’s so highly hypothetical, Dustin. I mean, we’re not in a position where we can operate purely on a hunch!” Robin exclaimed. She wanted nothing more than for it to be true, for you to be safer than you had been, but it was too big a risk to take.
“Think about it! If Vecna was going to kill y/n, why didn’t he just do it last night? They all spent hours in the Upside Down yesterday, and he didn’t even try to get her until the very end to send a message! We’re all so convinced that Vecna isn’t scared of us, but maybe—even to just a small degree—maybe he is.”
“He’s always been two steps ahead of us,” you spoke up, your voice quiet but sure.
“Exactly! And I can’t help but think that he is expecting us to fawn over y/n, trying to keep her safe to prevent the end of the world while he’s just gearing up to cause it somewhere else.”
“I mean, I gotta say, that kind of makes a shit ton of sense,” Eddie supported the boy’s hypothesis.
“But what if we’re wrong?” Steve questioned. “What if we’re wrong and Vecna is still coming for her and she fucking dies? What then?”
“If we don’t do anything, it’s the end of the world either way; it’s just a matter of time,” you replied. You sounded so confident and your words seemed final. He knew you were stubborn enough that once you settled on something, there was no way that you were budging on it. It was something he loved about you—your pure grit, your determination—but he couldn’t help but hate it in this moment.
Eddie had moved across the small living room, pulling a thick phonebook from the highest shelf. He quickly thumbed through it and brushed past you, dropping it down on the table with a satisfying thud.
“Check this out. The War Zone,” he pointed to the bottom left corner of the page, “I’ve been there once. It’s huge…they’ve got everything you need for, uh…well, uh, killing things, basically.”
“Do you think fake Rambo has enough guns there? Is that a grenade? I mean how is any of this even legal?” Robin inquired, critiquing the advertisement in the phonebook.
“Well, lucky for us it is, so…this-this place is just far enough outside of Hawkins. As long as we steer clear of the main roads, we oughta be able to avoid cops and, uh, angry hicks,” Eddie explained.
“If we’re trying to avoid angry hicks, maybe we shouldn’t go to some store called the War Zone,” Erica spoke up.
“Normally, I’d agree with you but we need the weapons so I think it’s worth the risk,” Nancy replied. She sounded tired and you couldn’t help but feel the same. You wished you could just be young adults who had to worry about normal things like figuring out what you wanted to be, what you wanted to do with your lives. Not trying to determine if a calculated risk was going to get you killed.
“Is it worth the time though? It’ll take all day to bike there and back,” Dustin pointed out.
“Who said anything about bikes?” Eddie chimed in.
“You got some car we don’t know about?” Steve questioned.
“It’s not exactly a car, Steve. And it’s not exactly mine, but uh, it’ll do,” Eddie smiled and you knew you were all in for a hectic, chaotic time. “Hey, Red, uh you got a ski mask or a bandanna or something like that?”
And that’s how you all ended up sneaking around the trailer park following Eddie Munson in a Michael Myers mask…which somehow wasn’t the weirdest thing that this group has had to do for the sake of the greater good.
Eddie rounded the corner around an RV and slid open a side window before hoisting himself through it. Steve followed suit and helped pull you through the window, steadying you as you dropped very ungracefully into the vehicle.
Eddie began pulling at wires under the dash and Steve watched him work with a concerned confusion plastered across his face. “Where’d you learn how to do this?”
“Well, while the other dads were teaching their kids how to fish or play ball, my old man was teaching me how to hot-wire. Now, I swore to myself that I wouldn’t wind up like he did, but now I’m wanted for murder, and soon, grand theft auto. So yeah, I’m really living up to that Munson name.”
“Eddie, I’m not sure I love the idea of you driving,” you spoke cautiously as you leaned into Steve’s back to join the conversation happening at the driver’s seat.
“Oh, I’m just starting this sucker. Harrington’s got her, don’t ya big boy?” And just like that, the RV revved to life, and the owners of said RV began banging on the sides of it, screaming at you to get out. You felt bad, like really bad, but you kept reminding yourself it was for the greater good as Eddie and Steve swiftly switched places.
“It’s just a car,” Steve whispered to himself, trying to psych himself up before yelling back to the other passengers of the now stolen vehicle “everybody, hang on to something!”
“Drive, Steve! Drive!” Dustin’s voice rang out and he didn’t have to tell Steve twice, as he put his still bare foot on the gas, taking off out of the trailer park.
“Shit they look pissed,” Lucas pointed out, watching as the RV’s owners tried and failed to run after their vehicle.
“Well, it’s not every day that you lose your house and your car in one fell swoop,” you cringed at how awful your actions were, hoping that you’d somehow be able to return the RV undamaged but that was unlikely given your present predicament.
“Hold on, hold on, hold on!” Steve shouted, making a sharp turn. You nearly would’ve fallen out of your seat if it weren’t for Eddie’s quick reflexes as he grabbed at the collar of your shirt, pulling you back towards him.
What had you gotten yourselves into?
***
Everyone was asleep in the back, catching up from the eventful night that you had the day prior. Naturally, you couldn’t sleep, so you found yourself sitting in the passenger seat next to Steve, and you couldn’t help but feel wistful for the way it all felt so normal. You had fallen into a comfortable silence, until Steve broke it as he spoke up.
“You know, it’s silly, but I…I’ve actually…I always had this dream that I’d have this really big family. I’m talking, like, uh, a full brood of Harringtons, like five, six kids.”
“Six?!” You asked incredulously.
“Yeah, six of ‘em. Three girls, three boys…and-and every summer, I figured all of us Harringtons, we would pack into something like this and just…see the country. You know, the Rockies, Grand Canyon, maybe Yellowstone. And then end up in some beachside town in California, spend a week parked in the sand…learn how to surf or something.”
Your heart was beating a million miles a minute. You and Steve rarely ever talked about the future because everything always felt so precarious. The most you’d ever talked about was wanting to simply have one together. The fact that he’d been day dreaming about a life was almost too much for you to handle. You thought about Vecna and your visions and your headaches and your eyes began welling up with tears at the very real possibility that it would be someone else giving Steve the life that he wanted, the life he deserved.
“That sounds nice,” you whispered through your watery eyes.
“Baby,” Steve noticed your tears, reaching over and putting a hand on your thigh to comfort you. “What’s wrong?” There was a lump in your throat and you couldn’t quite get the words out, so Steve jumped in, trying to make you laugh. “I mean, I guess the six kids part is a bit much—a bit tear inspiring—so maybe I should’ve held that detail back, you know? I’ll work up to it once we already have a few little Harringtons of our own, what do you say?”
If it were under any other circumstances, his effort to make you smile would’ve paid off but instead, it just made you cry harder, considering this future that you were damn near sure you wouldn’t have.
Watching you react like that was sending Steve into a spiral. He wished he could go back and just keep his damn mouth shut because maybe you didn’t want that. Maybe you didn’t want a future like that with him. Hell, maybe you didn’t even want a future with him at all.
He knew that you loved him, but he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe you were falling out of love. You had been through so much together, but this shit was so much fucking worse than what you’d been through before. Maybe you were realizing that he wasn’t the one for you…that he wasn’t enough. There’s nothing like a series of near death experiences to make someone rethink all their life choices.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, quickly getting up and moving to the back of the RV, needing some space. Robin had been awake and overheard the conversation the two of you had just had, her heart breaking for her best friends. She’d be damned if she let this blip break up her favorite couple, so just like that she gave Eddie a swift kick to the shins.
“Ow! Robin! What the fuck!” He exclaimed, the abrupt wake up something he was not happy about.
“We’re putting out fires okay? I need you to go talk to Steve and keep him from going fucking crazy.” This was a divide and conquer situation.
Eddie noticed the way you sat in the back corner, sniffling and staring out the window. “Trouble in paradise?” He asked.
“Yeah, but under these conditions, I’d hesitate to call it paradise.”
With that, Eddie made his way up to the front of the RV.
“What do you want, Munson?” Steve groaned, gripping the steering wheel tighter as he tried to keep his anger in check.
“Nice to talk to you too, Harrington,” Eddie rolled his eyes.
“I’m sorry, I’m just really not in the mood to fucking chat right now, okay?”
“You need to chill out man.”
Steve stared incredulously at the long haired freak in front of him. “Did you seriously just fucking say that to me? Munson, I’d like you to tell me how the fuck you think I should just chill out. It’s not like I’m barefoot, driving a fucking stolen RV to a store called fucking War Zone, and the world is fucking ending, not to mention my girlfriend is basically fucking dying…oh, and if we end up getting out of this shit storm okay, I think she’s going to dump me anyway…so forgive me for not being fucking chill.”
The words dripped like poison from his lips, but he kept his voice to a seething whisper so as not to upset you further. He could hear your soft sobs from the back of the RV and his heart ached as he tried to figure out where he went wrong.
“What the fuck are you talking about, Harrington?”
“What do you mean?” Steve answered Eddie’s question with a question.
“Like yeah, yeah, yeah, all that shit you listed is, well, pretty fucking shit…but there is no way in hell y/n is going to dump your ass.”
“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” Steve rolled his eyes, aggressively flipping on his turn signal as he pulled up to another side street.
“I don’t think you know what the hell you’re talking about, man. I don’t think I’ve ever seen two people as in love as the two of you dipshits are, and considering you’ve faced the end of the fucking world more times than I can count, I’d say that your relationship outlook is pretty fucking solid.”
Steve sighed, debating whether or not he should open up to Munson. He didn’t really like Eddie all that much before all this shit, but he was learning that the metal head wasn’t as terrible as he thought. Besides, half of his hatred was no doubt misplaced jealousy over the fact that you had been tutoring him and spending extra time with him. Despite this, Steve decided to take the calculated risk of being vulnerable.
“We were sitting up here talking…and-and I just brought up how, in the future, it would be nice to have some kids of our own and pack up into an RV like this and travel the country…and…ugh, and then she just started crying! And, yeah I did say that I want like six kids—“
“Six kids?!”
“Yeah, it’s a lot, but that’s besides the point. And! And I made a joke about it, because yeah it is a fucking lot, but that just made her cry harder and I feel like the only explanation is that maybe she doesn’t fucking want that with me, and she just isn’t ready to rip off the band aid yet. I mean, I know we love each other, but maybe she’s realizing she doesn’t love me like that, you know?”
Eddie sat there quietly for a second considering what his newfound friend just said. I mean, Steve’s thought process did make sense, but Eddie thought back to the conversation you had with him; the one where you told him that you were pretty confident Steve was the one. Eddie swore himself to secrecy, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t put his two cents in.
“Look, there’s no way she doesn’t want to spend the rest of her life with you dude. She is head over fucking heels for you, trust me,” Eddie started out, “Besides, you guys haven’t been officially dating for that long anyway…I don’t see something happening in that short amount of time that would have caused her to change her mind like that. No way, man.”
“I don’t know,” Steve mumbled, and Eddie could tell he was holding something back.
“Spill it, Harrington,” when Steve looked at him hesitantly, Eddie rolled his eyes. “Dude, I’m a wanted man and the whole fucking town hates me. Who am I going to fucking tell? Besides, bro code and all that patriarchal shit.”
Steve looked over his shoulder. You were still locked in a pretty serious and hushed conversation with Robin, so he felt a bit better about the fact that you wouldn’t overhear what he had to say.
“If you tell anyone, I’ll fucking kill you myself, understand?” Eddie nodded, and Steve continued, “okay…we…um, you know how we broke into the high school to find all those files and shit?”
“Yeah…?” Eddie replied, not quite sure where this was going.
“Well, that night, y/n came back to my place to spend the night because she had her first vision and we needed to talk a lot out, and….well, and we had sex.” Steve whispered the last part so quietly it was barely audible.
Eddie stared at him like he was a fucking idiot. “Okay….? And….? You two have been dating for like eight fucking months. You had sex. I don’t get what the big deal is.”
Steve rolled his eyes, trying not to flush with embarrassment about giving Eddie Munson of all people the intimate details of his love life. “We had sex for the first time, okay? So yeah, it’s a pretty big fucking deal,” Steve defended himself.
Eddie looked absolutely dumbfounded. “So you’re saying that you, King Steve, have been dating a girl for eight months and you haven’t fucked her until like a few days ago? I’m sorry man, but I have to call bullshit on that.”
“I swear, dude. Y/n hasn’t really dated anyone before so it was her first time, first time, so we were waiting until she was ready.”
“That had to fucking kill you, man. I’m surprised you waited that long at all,” Eddie tried to hold back a chuckle.
“Hey! Knock it the fuck off, Munson!”
“Was it good?”
“I’ll pull over right now and beat the shit out of you. I’m not fucking joking.”
“Well I am, so you can chill the fuck out,” Eddie laughed. “I still don’t see how this has anything to do with her potentially wanting to dump you.”
“Well, it’s just a change, you know? Like what if she didn’t like it and—and…I don’t know, the spark is gone?”
“Dude, respectfully, that’s surely not the case. There’s probably a shit ton of women in Hawkins who would be lining up just to sleep with you, so there’s no fucking chance that she’s going to break up with you because you’re bad in bed.”
“I did not say that I was worried I was bad in bed; don’t put fucking words in my mouth.”
“What a fragile little ego you’ve got,” Eddie teased, “no dude, but seriously, please don’t worry about it. There’s no way that your little lady isn’t hopelessly in love with you.” Eddie gave Steve a pat on the shoulder before moving back to the back end of the RV.
Meanwhile, Robin was trying desperately to calm you down. Sobs wracked your tired frame as you wiped at the tears that were flowing down your face.
“Y/n, please. What’s wrong?” Robin asked, pulling your hands away from your face so that she could get a good look at you. You took several deep breaths, hiccuping through a few more sobs until you calmed down enough to speak.
“I-it-it’s Steve,” was all you could manage to say before another communication breakdown had you unintelligibly sobbing again.
Robin shook her head, “honey, you have to tell me what’s wrong; I can’t help you otherwise, and I want to help. Please.”
“He’s just so perfect,” you whispered, your eyebrows furrowed together with such a hopelessness that Robin nearly wanted to cry with you. She wasn’t exactly sure what you meant, so she just stayed silent for you to continue. “Like, he was talking about how he wants this future together with all of these kids and-and…and Robin, I want that. I want it so fucking bad, but I don’t think we’re both going to make it to the other side of this.”
Robin’s heart stopped in her chest. “What do you mean, y/n?”
The sympathetic look you shot Robin was enough to kill her. “Robin.”
“No, y/n. What do you mean?”
“I don’t think I’m making it out of this one alive, okay?” You sighed, another tear falling down your cheek that Robin was quick to wipe away. “And…and it’s just hard to hear him talk about a future that he’s going to have to have with someone else…because I want him to have that—I really do, Robin—but I just know it’s not going to be with me.”
“Y/n, you have to let us try. I’m not going to fucking let that happen,” Robin argued as a tear fell down her face, “you and Steve can have all the gross, sticky children you want because our plan is going to work, it has to work, okay?”
You took a deep breath and wiped at your eyes one more time. You didn’t feel confident, but despite that, for your friend, you agreed, the words coming out in a whisper.
“Okay.”
***
As soon as you stepped foot into War Zone, you were immediately overwhelmed. “So much for avoiding angry hicks,” Robin voiced what you all were thinking. The store was packed full of people, and you figured that everyone from Hawkins was probably gearing up for what they thought was the inevitable with an alleged murderer on the loose.
“Let’s be…fast,” Nancy spoke up, and you all split off in different directions to gather the supplies you needed to face Vecna. Not quite ready to face Steve after your breakdown in the van, you sped off to a corner of the store away from him, ducking and weaving between other customers before he could argue.
As he watched you disappear in the crowd, his heart jumped to his throat. He didn’t like the idea of you being out of his sight right now; none of you had any way of knowing what was going to happen, and he liked to keep you close so that he could be there if and when shit hit the fan. The fact that you were still upset was also killing him. You guys usually communicated so well, but this whole Vecna situation was really throwing you off your game. How long would it be before you guys couldn’t communicate at all? How long until you were shells of the people who fell in love, destroyed by grief and pain and tragedy?
Robin pulled him out of his thoughts before he could spiral too much. “How many of these do you think we need?” She asked, holding up a canister of kerosene.
He threw on a jacket he had found in the store, throwing another canister in the cart. “Five or six,” he answered, though in all honesty, who could really be sure?
Steve placed a few more canisters in the cart before noticing that Robin was suddenly very sidetracked. His heart rate picked up for a second, thinking it was due to some sort of threat, but he calmed down a little when he realized that she had spotted Vickie.
“What are you gonna do, Rob? Just stand here and gawk at her?” He asked as a smirk broke out across his features.
“Shut up,” she was quick to respond. Steve’s heart soared as she took a step towards Vickie, but it quickly shattered to the floor when a guy came up behind Vickie, wrapping his arms around her frame. His heart was breaking for his friend as she turned around, running the other way, embarrassed by the hope she’d allowed to grow in her mind.
“Robin! Robin!” Steve called after her, but it was no use.
You stood at the gun counter, rifle in hand, heart pounding as you inspected the firearm. “How much is this?” You asked the man at the counter.
“$120.99, but I’ll throw in twenty rounds of buckshot for ya,” he replied. You were glad you weren’t the only one that was going to have to cover the cost for all of this shit, because you certainly didn’t have the funds for end-of-the-world-apocalypse preparation supplies. You nodded softly at the clerk and he turned to help another customer when you heard a voice that made your stomach drop ring out next to you.
“Hey, can I see this real pretty .375, please?” Jason asked, his hands pressed against the countertop, letterman jacket looking pristine compared to your dirty and disheveled clothes from the hell you’d been through.
“Here you go son,” The clerk handed the gun over the counter and Jason thanked him. You tried to turn away so as not to be recognized, your heart pounding in your ear.
“Y/n,” Jason spoke up, gesturing at you with the pistol, “wouldn’t expect to find you here.”
“Yeah, well, it’s just…scary times,” you used the easy excuse at your disposal. “I’m…really sorry about Chrissy,” you added, and you meant it with every fiber of your being.
“Want my advice?” He took a step closer to you. “Shotguns are not good for much of anything past killing small birds. I mean, they got power, sure, but not much range.” You swallowed back your fear as he took another step closer to you. “And that’s just gonna force you into close-range combat, then someone can just grab that barrel like this and redirect it.“
You jumped as his hand wrapped around the barrel of the shotgun you were holding, inertia carrying you as he jerked the gun towards him.
“You look nervous,” Jason pointed out, his steely gaze not wavering from your eyes.
“Like I said, scary times,” you refused to look away either, meeting his intensity with a burning hatred of your own.
“You…you know Munson,” Jason continued, leaning even closer towards you, if that was even possible. “Physics. You tutor him, right?”
“I did,” you tried to emphasize the past tense nature of that sentiment, hoping that giving him as little as possible would make him let it go.
“He…he here with you, by chance?” You could see the craziness in Jason’s eyes as he said it, and your heart began beating faster. This was a man that had snapped, and you were afraid of what he would do to you and your friends if he knew that you were helping hide Eddie.
“No,” you shook your head, still not breaking eye contact.
“I’m only asking because, after all, he’s in charge of Hellfire, you know?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you feigned ignorance.
“What about his friends?” Jason pushed the question, tightening his grip on the shotgun and taking another small step towards you. “They here with you?”
“Would you let go?” You asked in a hushed tone, your expression settling into something fierce and serious. Jason didn’t respond, his eyes still locked onto yours, his stern expression matching your own, so you raised your voice a bit. “Let. Go.”
“What’s going on over here?” A familiar voice rang out behind you and you felt relief flood your veins as you felt a hand at the small of your back. You wanted to roll your eyes as Jason eased up a bit, his grip loosening on the barrel of the gun in your hand. The countless ways a man will not hesitate to disrespect and intimidate a woman astounded you compared to the complete change in demeanor as soon as his actions could be construed as disrespectful of another man. Bro code was a bunch of certified bullshit.
Steve knew Jason better than you did. After all, they played basketball together just the year prior, with Steve being the team captain. Steve looked at Jason quizzically, his eyes practically daring the letterman jacket wearing jock to cause trouble.
“Steve,” Jason’s crazy, out of control expression melting into a polite smile, “nothing’s going on. Just two friends having a chat. Right, y/n?”
Jason’s stare made you feel nauseous, so you moved your head in a small and stiff nod, being agreeable to avoid any further confrontation. Steve could obviously sense the tension and felt his blood boiling at Jason’s clear attempt to intimidate you.
“It’s just, you’re standing awfully close to my girlfriend, and she’s very clearly uncomfortable,” Steve refused to back down.
“My apologies. Store’s quite crowded, is all,” Jason explained, his expression swiftly changing, menace dripping behind his mundane words.
“Certainly still enough room to back the fuck off,” Steve moved between you and Jason. You quickly waved down the clerk to ring you out for your purchase.
“Woah there, Harrington. Being a little defensive, don’t you think?” Jason’s eyes narrowed. “If I was crazy, I’d even go as far as to say you’re hiding something.”
“I don’t have any clue what the fuck you’re talking about,” Steve took a step towards Jason before continuing. “She’s my girlfriend, so I’m just trying to make sure she’s alright.”
“And Chrissy was mine,” Jason shot back, and you watched the way his fists clenched and unclenched. He looked like he was about ready to lose it and you weren’t really too confident in his ability to self regulate right now with everything that was going on.
“Is everything okay between you boys?” The clerk asked after handing you your bag. At this, Steve and Jason took a step away from each other.
“Everything is fine, sir. Thank you for all your help,” Steve spoke up, putting a hand on the small of your back again and moving you in front of him as he began guiding you through the store towards the front.
Before you could get far, Jason spoke up from behind the two of you, putting a hand on Steve’s shoulder to make him stop. “If you know anything, I recommend you tell us because we’ll find out one way or another.”
“Is that a threat?” You questioned, finally finding your voice. You were surprised by the way that it didn’t waver.
“Oh, no” Jason chuckled, “it’s a fucking promise.”
With that, Jason backed away, moving to the other end of War Zone to meet up with the rest of his entourage, and Steve quickly moved the two of you towards the front of the store. Robin, Nancy, Max, and Erica had clearly realized the presence of Jason’s group and were finishing up checking out the rest of your supplies. Nancy finished paying and the five of you swiftly exited the store as fast as you could, all piling back into the RV parked outside.
“Your old friends are here,” Erica announced to Lucas as she boarded the bus.
“Shit!” Lucas exclaimed.
“Let’s go! Let’s go!” Dustin shouted, fear lacing his tone at the thought of what Jason would do if he got his hands on any of them.
“I’m going! I’m going! Sit down!” Steve shouted as he rushed to the driver’s seat, starting the vehicle up and peeling out of the parking lot.
No one talked for a while, everyone still reeling from the close encounter you had just had in the War Zone. Once you were a considerable distance away, Steve spoke up.
“Hey, are you okay?”
“Uh, yeah, I’m fine,” you let out a bit of a chuckle, trying to play it off like you weren’t still a little freaked out from the way Jason was acting.
“Babe, come on,” Steve glanced over at you, “I know you.”
You sighed. “He just seems so unhinged right now. I felt like he was going to try and fucking kill me right in that store. And I’m just…I’m worried about Dustin and Lucas and Eddie. If Jason was that willing to be that aggressive towards me, who knows what he’ll fucking do to them if he gets ahold of them!”
“He’s hot headed, that’s for sure,” Steve agreed with you, “but we’re going to figure it all out, and it’ll be fine.”
You weren’t so sure that you agreed with him, but you didn’t say anything as he continued driving. He took several backroads until the occasional buildings disappeared, the scenery shifting to rolling hills and open fields. He pulled off into an open field that was shielded enough from the road by the tree line, and you all exited the RV, ready to prep your various weapons.
You sat on a basket, sawing at the barrel of the shotgun you had just purchased as Max and Nancy watched.
“Is this legal?” Max asked.
“Actually, I’m pretty sure it’s a felony,” you replied, continuing to saw without a care in the world of the legal repercussions of your actions. “But it guarantees one thing. I won’t miss.”
Once you were finished, you handed the shotgun to Max, standing up and wiping your hands on your pants, before smiling at her and moving to sit with Steve and Robin.
“I mean, it just doesn’t make sense,” Steve spoke up, holding a funnel as Robin poured kerosene into an empty bottle.
“What doesn’t make sense?” Robin asked.
“That was Dan Shelter. He graduated like two years ago,” Steve went on, and you realized you were clearly missing something.
“So?”
“So, he’s in college, which means he was visiting on spring break. Fast Times was returned, like, I don’t know, a week ago? Right? Unless she’s got some horndog brother we don’t know about which is possible. Or she’s just really into Judge Reinhold?” You finally caught on and realized that this was all about Vickie. Putting two and two together, you figured she must have a boyfriend, putting a total wrench into your plans to land Robin a kick ass girlfriend.
“Steve!” Robin cut him off. “I don’t care, and I don’t understand why you do either with everything that’s going on. Honestly, this feels like a prefect time for that little pull of the rug because in the face of the world ending, the stakes of my love life feel spectacularly low.”
“You deserve to be happy though, Robin,” you spoke up, weighing in on the conversation.
“Not everything has a happy ending,” she reminded the two of you, and your mind flashed back to Steve’s dream of six kids packed into an RV together. You figured now was the right time to speak your mind…after all the world was ending.
“I have this terrible, gnawing feeling that…it might not work out for us this time,” you explained, leaving out the part where you were pretty much 100% confident that it was specifically going to be you that was caught in the crossfire.
“You think we shouldn’t be doing this?” Steve asked, concern flooding his brown eyes.
“I think we’re mad fools, the lot of us…but if we don’t stop him, who will?” You looked out at all of your friends, each of them with their makeshift, modified weapons, and you willed yourself not to cry. “We have to try, right?”
“Yeah,” Steve agreed, his expression stoic. He picked up one of the empty bottles that had yet to be filled with kerosene. “To killing Vecna?” He proposed a toast.
“Slash Henry,” Robin added.
“Slash One,” you finished as each of you picked up bottles of your own to clink together. Your free hand searched for Steve’s as you wrapped your pinky around his, silently making an additional promise to him too.
A promise that you were going to fight like hell to live for the future Steve was dreaming of. A promise to believe that maybe—just maybe—everything was going to be okay.
His pinky tightened around yours, and for a moment, that was all that mattered in the world.
***
a/n: I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! If you commented or reblogged or even sent an ask about what you thought of it, it would honestly make my whole day! I really enjoy reading your comments and it 1000% motivates me to write more (I also have a list of some ideas for once this story is finished, so stay tuned for that!!!)
taglist:
@season4steve @sassyheroneckgiant @tangledinthegreatxscape @kahhori @palachannie @keeryverse @usaguisenpaisblog @emilieluckwood @sabrinadelreyy @mochminnie @xprloki @kitdjarin1 @kissmxcheek @daemonskitty @bethsvrse @aheadfullofsteverogers @quinnsadilla @chervbs @sheisjoeschateau @goosy-goose @frtfvthg @criesinlies @cycat4077 @kachelleee @killerqueenfan @newyorkangelbaby @spaghetittied @anxfl @huffledor-able541 @mikariell95 @nothergoaway @angie2274
#stranger things#steve harrington#joe keery#steve harrington fanfic#netflix#steve harrington stranger things#friends to lovers#steve harrington friends to lovers#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x you#stranger things fanfiction#steve harrington x reader#stranger things fanfic#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington fic#steve harrington x reader fanfic#steve harrington x reader series#stranger things x you#stranger things x reader
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Nightmare
I've set myself the unofficial goal of hitting all my AUs this month. So have some Spare Parts Boys. All you need to know, though, is that this AU is totally canon compliant until TRF save for two things: One, Sherlock and John were together before the Fall, and two, they live on Titan in the 24th century.
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It takes a while for Sherlock to accept how much he still has to learn when it comes to anything to do with interpersonal relationships.
Case in point, just because the person you love most in the world has forgiven you for the horrible thing you did to him, doesn't mean it's not still haunting both of you.
John has nightmares. John always had nightmares, even back before Sherlock jumped. John has enough trauma Sherlock isn't responsible for to keep him in nightmares for the rest of his life.
Like his father's death. Or the incident on Mars that is responsible for his synthetic arm.
John had PTSD and was nearly suicidal when Sherlock met him, on his way down the bottle or his sidearm. Sherlock shocked him out of that state by providing adrenaline on a daily basis. In the beginning, the adrenaline was chasing criminals through the streets of New London and the frozen plains of Titan. Later, that adrenaline included sex. But John still had nightmares, and the bed they shared before Sherlock jumped was often besieged with these night terrors. John would wake up screaming. Sometimes he’d claw at his artificial arm as if he wasn’t sure what this thing was doing on his body. Sometimes he’d whimper and beg for it to stop, whatever was torturing him.
Sherlock hated these nightmares. Still does.
But it’s a special kind of hell when you’re the thing that haunts the person you’d literally die for. When you become the nightmare.
It’s been a rough few days. John’s clinic was busy, and they had a truly gruelling case, human trafficking, sympathetic victims, and an unsatisfying outcome. They got the local thugs and they freed the victims, but the big fish escaped their net.
They went home and both of them fell asleep as soon as their heads hit their respective pillows.
Sherlock woke suddenly to John screaming his name, over and over, panting with fear. Sherlock did what he always does, he gathered John in his arms and whispered, “I’m here, it’s all right, it was just a dream. I’m here. I’m here,” kissing John’s brow and breathing with him as he slowly calmed down and fell asleep again, still clinging to Sherlock like he was going to vanish if he let go.
It’s getting a bit old, to tell the truth. It doesn’t happen that often anymore, but it happens frequently enough to bother Sherlock. He’s also more than a bit disgusted at himself for having the nerve to be annoyed at John’s subconscious. It’s been two years, a small, insidious voice inside his mind whispers. When is this going to stop?
Probably never. That’s the short answer. The long answer that it’s probably going to be less and less frequent, as the scar tissue over this particular wound in John’s subconscious grows thicker.
Sherlock still feels like shit every time it happens. Because it shows him, time and again, that no matter how much they’ve grown and changed and forgiven and promised, no matter how good he’s been, there’s a part of John that still lives in that moment. There’s a corner of John’s mind that’s stuck with the worst thing Sherlock has ever done.
When he’s sure John is fast asleep again, he gets up and sits in the window seat, watching the clouds race over the murky sky, revealing glimpses of Saturn. Occasionally, a shuttle passes through his line of sight, or a hovercab. The city is quiet at this time of night. Never asleep, but dozing.
John’s hands are warm on his shoulders, caressing tense muscles with soothing strokes. “Come back to bed,” John whispers in his ear, soft breath tickling against his neck.
“In a minute,” Sherlock replies, making room for John to slip into the seat behind him, letting John rearrange them so he’s resting against John as John’s arms come around him.
“What is it?” John murmurs into his hair, his voice soft and quiet and gentle.
Sherlock knows he could say nothing. He could just take John to bed and distract them both from the dark of the night with the heat of their bodies. Instead, he takes John’s hand between both of his and traces idle patterns over his palm. “It’s always going to be there. Isn’t it?”
He can feel more than hear John sigh, his chest heaving with the deep breath he takes and then lets out, slowly. “Probably.” John meets his eyes in the window’s reflection. “Doesn’t mean I don’t forgive you. Doesn’t mean I want to be anywhere but here.”
“I know.”
And the thing is, he does know. And it still hurts. Both of them.
“You know, I have patients who ask me why their synthetic limbs feel pain.”
Sherlock sighs, because he has a feeling he knows where John is going with this. “Are you going to give me another lecture on how ignoring pain is stupid?”
Sherlock can hear the smile in John’s voice when he replies, “I’m that predictable?”
Sherlock brushes a kiss over John’s knuckles. “Never.” Another kiss. “Well. Sometimes.”
John chuckles, kissing Sherlock’s hair. “Well then, Mister I-Know-What-You’re-About-To-Say-Before-You-Do, tell me what I was about to say.”
“That pain is good, because it shows you your limits. That pain reminds you of past mistakes. That it’s a teacher, and a guide.”
“A bit more poetic than I would have phrased it, but shockingly accurate as usual,” John answers, and Sherlock can feel him smile against Sherlock’s hairline.
“I know all of this. What bothers me is that you’re in pain because of my mistakes.”
“I know. And that’s the reason why I forgive you,” John says gently, moving their joined hands over Sherlock’s heart.
Sherlock says nothing, pressing John’s hand closer against his heart. He can’t express what John’s forgiveness means to him, what this second life they have together has given him. And he knows that the pain he feels every time he watches John live through his death is both his penance and the price he has to pay. He just wishes he was the only one who had to go through it.
“Want to go back to bed now?” John asks, pulling Sherlock even closer.
Sherlock smiles. “In a minute.”
In a minute, they will go back to bed. They will chase away melancholy thoughts and lingering aches with hands and mouths and words of adoration breathed into sweat-slick skin. They will fall asleep entangled and wake together to greet a new day together.
For now, though, Sherlock kisses John’s palm and together, they watch their city doze the night away.
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Periodic reminder that I'm collecting all of these ficlets here on AO3.
Tags under the cut as always, please let me know if you want to be tagged or untagged.
@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @jrow @peanitbear @jolieblack @meetinginsamarra @helloliriels @keirgreeneyes @lisbeth-kk @friday411 @givemesherbet-blog-blog @weeesi @thalialunacy @thegildedbee @dapetty @salmonsown
#johnlock#bbc sherlock#my fic#may prompts 2024#nightmares#spare parts#realigning gravity#my most canon compliant au ironically
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Welcome back!.How is your life?.Hope it treats you well. Can I make a request for Kim Dokja x readers? For example, readers know everything about Kim Dokja before the tragic incident so readers always protect him and take care of him secretly. Readers give birthday gifts to Kim Dokja secretly.I want Han Soyoung and Yoo Joonghyuk.
Omniscient Reader Viewpoint
Lingering
Summary: In which you died from the infamous and cliche truck-kun, and now finds yourself lingering as a ghost.
Or, you decide to become the babysitter of your favourite reader and suicidal squid, Kim Dokja, but from the shadows.
Pairing: Platonic! Kim Dokja x Neutral! Reader
Note: Heyyy Anon, just living the dream! Thanks for your patience! Hope that this fluffy little short can make your life a little better today.
Warning: Kim Dokja’s past angst, but we try to mainly focus on the positives.
★・・・・・・★
Kim Dokja couldn't shake the feeling of being watched.
Strange occurrences—objects moving on their own, and random whispers (of love and reassurance?) in the stillness of the night, left him on edge.
It all began when he jumped off the roof.
It freaked him out when it first began, was it because he hit his head too hard?
Sometimes, he would find instant ramen ready at his table when he came home late. His room that was messy before, slowly became clean overnight.
Convenience store food would appear the next day, with a note that says to eat all of his meals like a mother would nag their son.
It’s strange, but oddly, heartwarming. He slowly began to accept these little things.
Maybe it was his guardian angel that his classmates sometimes would say, or maybe a ghost decided to take pity on him. Whatever it was, it felt like he wasn’t alone in this world.
“Kim Dokja! You murderer son of a-” Before Kim Dokja’s bully could even finish his sentence, a book suddenly whacked him in the face.
“What the- Who’s throwing books-”
Then a shoe.
“Hey! Get whoever is doing that-”
Then, a teacher’s briefcase.
While his classmates fussed around in fear, he felt the wind and a gentle tug on his shirt. Spooked, he looked around too, but he found nothing.
Another tug, but this time, Kim Dokja followed, because he too wanted to leave without his classmates hanging on him again.
“Hey! What are you kids doing?!” As if by coincidence, the moment he walked away from the alleyway, he overheard a teacher scolding the students for stealing his briefcase.
For a moment, he heard a very faint laughter in the air, and for the first time in a long time, Kim Dokja too had a little smirk on his lips.
Startled, he quickly covered it, before dashing back to class.
Whoever this ghost was, thank you.
“Happy birthday, Dokja-ya.”
Kim Dokja never expected to see a slice of birthday cake in his room in the middle of the night. Suddenly, a single candle lit, and he let out an involuntary gasp.
For a moment, he thought it was beautiful yet so simple.
One slice of cake, streamers decorated his walls, and even gifts on the ground.
For the first time since his mother went to jail, he had a cake for his birthday.
“Thank you.”
He made a wish, before blowing out the candle.
He wish that he could see his ghost friend one day.
Just like that, years passed by, and while Kim Dokja’s life went by mediocrely, he felt like he was not alone.
Kim Dokja tried to communicate with the ghost, but nothing seemed to work. While he can hear this ghost friend, it seems like they couldn’t hear him.
Even writing a response to them was useless, because they never wrote a response back.
It was as if she could only interact with him, but not the other way around.
It made Kim Dokja feel shameless, only taking more from this sweet ghost, and he couldn’t reciprocate at all.
Perhaps one day.
“Ahjussi, why do you have a ghost that follows you around?”
Kim Dokja immediately turned around to see the confused Lee Jihye, who should there with the same confused expression.
“What do you mean?”
“I didn't see this before, but you have a ghost following you and us everywhere. Look, it’s right behind you!” Dokja looked around, but no matter where he turned, he didn’t see a ghost.
“What? We have a ghost haunting us?” Han Sooyoung commented with arms crossed.
“Is that why we always somehow have food, and how this idiot keeps getting lucky?”
“The ghost is nodding! They’re flying away and-hey! Don’t get too close to me!” Lee Jihye suddenly started running away.
Was it because Lee Jihye’s powers, the Ghost Fleet, involves ghosts? Which gave her affinity with ghosts?
For a moment, Kim Dokja felt bitter, because he tried very hard to communicate with his ghost friend for so many years, but nothing had worked.
“What, you knew that you had a ghost following you and you let it? I knew you were crazy.” Han Sooyoung nudged him, and he returned an eye roll.
“The ghost has been helping me for a long time-”
“What the heck? And like, they helped you through your past trauma and everything?” With a nod, Han Sooyoung’s expression turned even more in disbelief.
“You’re a crazy bastard.”
“Yoo Joonghyuk is the sunfish bastard actually.” When everyone turned to face the protagonist, he felt a chill down his spine when the said sunfish man glared at him.
“...valid, you’re the idiot then and he’s the sunfish bastard, a perfect match clearly.” Kim Dokja had nothing to say to that.
“What did you say-” A ruffle of Yoo Joonghyuk's hair made everyone shut up.
“Oh my god.” Yoo Joonghyuk whipped around with his sword in hand, but to everyone including Dokja and excluding Lee Jihye, there was nothing.
“He looks so fucking stupid, he’s fighting the air-” Han Sooyoung couldn’t even finish, because she was already sprinting.
Like everyone else, Dokja did his best to hide his laugh.
“FUCK FUCK FUCK- WHOEVER YOU ARE, HELP ME GHOSTIE!”
As if on cue, the sunfish was jolted back, as if he was pulled back by the neck. Even the protagonist let out grunt in shock.
“Master!”
“GET HIM!” Han Sooyoung cheered and added more fuel to the flame, and the best part is, somehow, Yoo Jonghyuk was struggling.
“I. Will. Kill. You. Han. Sooyoung!”
“I take it back, your ghost friend is the best.”
“Damn right I am!”
While laughing, for a moment, Dokja froze when he saw a light blue silhouette of a laughing person, holding the back of the protagonist’s coat.
They looked like a teenager who never grew up. Unkempt hair flew everywhere as they laughed and teased Yoo Joonghyuk who managed to break out of their grasp.
“Lee Jihye, can you use your skill?” Kim Dokja felt motivated even more when that silhouette faded. She blinked for a moment, before she nodded as if she understood.
Maybe, this might work.
“I need to be near water.” With haste, the two of them found a lake and with some deep breathes, she activated her stigma, Ghost Fleet.
Even if it’s only a small possibility.
It was a small activation, but it was all Dokja needed.
Bookmark.
Luckily, his bookmark was successful, and was able to copy her skill even if it’s at the partial level.
He just hoped it was enough.
He closed his eyes and imagined that same silhouette again.
Ghost Fleet.
When he opened his eyes again, he saw a beautiful person floating before him with a hopeful smile.
“Can you see me?”
Kim Dokja didn’t hesitate to try and hug the ghost, except he couldn’t touch them.
[Fourth Wall is shaking]
“You can see me? You can hear me?” Dokja nodded. He looked up again to see a young teen staring back at him bewildered.
To think that such a child was looking over him all these years in silence, all by themself…Dokja did not know what to say.
He now had so many questions to ask you.
How did you die? Why did you decide to help him? Why didn’t you leave? Why did you protect him?
But none of them came out as he felt gentle touches on his hair and his back.
It has been more than 10 years since he had known his ghost friend, and this was the first he had seen you in person.
“What’s your name?”
“My name is…” You paused, as if to remember, “(Y/N). It’s been a while since I said my name.”
“(Y/N)...” Dokja whispered, before taking a step back.
“My name is Kim Dokja.”
Then he bowed deeply.
“Thank you for taking care of me for so long.”
“You deserve everything, Dokja.” Your words startled him, never in his wildest dreams would he hear something like that.
“So there’s no need to thank me. I’m doing this because I love you.” He looked up, and you gave him a hug.
“I want to help you reach the end of this story.”
His breath was caught in his throat, he was overwhelmed by emotion.
How could he have such a kind and generous person by his side? How could he be so lucky to have someone like you?
“I will help you too.”
Dokja wanted to return the favour, whether it would help you pass on, or even bring you to life. Whatever it is, he wanted to help you and reciprocate your kindness for all of these years.
“I’m already happy, I finally can talk to you.”
Before he could respond, he heard a cough from Han Sooyoung.
“So, are you gonna introduce us to your ghost friend or are we just gonna have to see you hug the air with no context?”
Kim Dokja also heard the shing of a sword, and turned to see Yoo Joonghyuk glaring at him while cleaning his sword.
“You should tell them.” You grin, and then thank Lee Jihye who in turn turned smug for being the best of the children.
Kim Dokja let out a sigh, it’s going to be another long story, but it’s worth it.
#manhwa#orv#orv kim dokja#orv yjh#orv x reader#orv kdj#yoo joonghyuk#kimcom#han sooyoung#lee jihye#omniscient reader novel#omniscent reader#omniscient reader's viewpoint
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All your thoughts about Graves are amazing!! What if dear reader is his happy little shy housewife that decides to be bold and wear lingerie for his welcome home surprise- except he brought home a couple of close shadows with him to celebrate... so now you're being punished in front of them because Graves HAS to show his men his wife is his alone~ 🩵
thank you honey!! you have no idea how much it means to me 🫶🏻
cw: domesticity kink, exposure, light degrading, praise, creampie, teasing nipple play, talk about edging;sharing, spanking (ass and pussy), fem!reader, this turned out longer than I thought - not proofread
neither of you expected what the other one did - Phil didn't expect his usually so prim and proper, shy little wife to suddenly rock up in nothing but lingerie; you didn't expect him to bring some shadows home after a mission. usually he liked being alone with you, but usually you also wouldn't be waiting in that gorgeous, blue negligee, considering you only just bought it. you sat there in his armchair, legs crossed with the matching nylon socks being held up by lacy garters, heart racing when you heard the door unlock - face dropping when you heard the chuckles of multiple men. you panicked internally, frozen in your seat until it was too late to cover up, until he stepped in with his shadows behind him.
his face dropped briefly, eyeing you over and seeing you look at him like a deer in headlights - he couldn't help but grin. arms crossed over his chest, all of them still in uniform. "Well, what do we have here? if that isn't my sweet, little angel.." he hummed, carrying a note of sarcasm in his voice. you stuttered, stumbling over your own words for a good ten seconds before he shook his head and stopped you with a simple wave of his hand while walking over to you. slowly, Phillip bent down, hands on the armrests of his favourite chair, caging you under his gaze. "you wanted to surprise me like this? what happened to my innocent little darling who blushed when I even mentioned anything remotely kinky?" that same blush crossed your face again, making him laugh. "missed me so much while I was gone you had to throw yourself at me the second I came back? like a little slut?" he hummed, just loud enough for the others to hear. you blushed more, pressing your thighs together as he spoke, especially during the last word. he had never called you that, anything but darling, sweetheart and the like for that matter. but now he called you a slut in the most loving tone and christ, you'd be lying if you said it didn't make you wet.
"I- I'm.." you tried to speak but no sentence would form. he chuckled lowly, the shadows were now in the room but still kept their distance in case graves wanted them to leave. naturally he noticed it, noticed your eyes darting to them ever so often. He gave them a brief look before suddenly grinning, pointy canines on display as he turned back to you.
"should punish you for being so naughty darling.. I'm sure you won't mind the boys watching, do you? since you seem to love being on display like that.." he hummed, looking into your eyes, looking for any sign of hesitance. he saw the brief fear that got overrun by excitement, not to mention the way you rubbed your thighs together. "I'll take that as a yes." he said, suddenly grabbing your wrist with his gloved hand, pulling you out of the seat with ease. his other hand offered the shadows to take a seat in the living room, none of them hesitated even one bit to sit down. you glanced over at your husband, who dropped into his seat with a low groan, keeping you standing between his legs. "how about you get us all some drinks first, hm?" he asked, but it wasn't a question. you quickly nodded, cheeks still burning as the men told you what drink they'd like, you vanished into the kitchen. that wasn't something out of the ordinary, you usually liked making yourself useful for him and his friends.. just not almost naked with your nipples peeking through the thin fabric. with shaky hands you carried the tray back to them, handing everyone their drink - last but not least Phillip, who took the glass and patted his knee. "Sit."
without hesitation you sat down, making him smile in satisfaction. "you're such a dirty little thing aren't you? I can feel the heat from your pussy through the gear." he teased, his free hand snaking between your thighs, gloved fingertips grazing the damp fabric. you blushed, gripping the hem of your negligee tightly while refusing to look at him, or anything but the floor for that matter. "look at you, so shy suddenly." his fingers slowly pushed down on your clit, making you tense up. he chuckled at your reaction. "stand up. show the boys what I get to touch whenever I want." a shiver ran down your spine, yet you obeyed him like a dog. you stood up, even doing a little spin, the men eyeing you like hungry wolves. Phil meanwhile nodded, his semi pressing against his pants slightly. "over my lap." he commanded, you obeyed again. this wasn't a first, the two of you had tried some stuff and spanking is something that definitely stuck. slowly, almost teasingly he removed his gloves, putting them aside on the coffee table. "I'd say it's a shame to have to punish you but I'd be lying doll. I love it when you beg for mercy." with that the first smack landed, making you gasp for air. a few more followed rapidly, making your ass jiggle, your pussy growing more and more wet with each slap.
the men watched the whole thing go down, slowly growing hard and palming themselves through their gear - Phillip had laid down the ground rules while you got drinks, but you didn't need to know that. especially not when he landed the final, harsh strike, making you cry out. "stand up and show them how red your ass is. show them what happened when you're a naughty slut." he hissed, you obeyed with butterflies in your belly. you stood up, backside turned to the shadows as your fave burned in embarrassment, glancing at Phil briefly. he caught the look and gave you a reassuring smile. "so pretty, isn't she?" he hummed lovingly, pulling you in his lap again. this time your back was laid against his chest, his calloused hands sliding up and between your thighs while his lips peppered kisses over your shoulder. he was just about to speak up when he reached your panties, but instead raised an eyebrow. "oh? did someone enjoy her punishment?" he taunted, not even giving you time to think before forcibly spreading your legs, damp panties on display.
you cried out, shaking your head and hiding your face behind your hands. "i'-i'm sorry Phil, I didn't mean to, i-" he cut you off.
"now this won't do. looks like I'll have to punish that pretty pussy too." he hummed, before you could register it he began spanking your pussy too. every slap drew a loud whine or moan from you, legs twitching, pussy only drooling more. the first 10 slaps or so landed on your panties, the wet smack getting worse and worse, making him chuckle. "you're such a dirty little pervert angel.." he whispered, pulling the underwear aside to expose your sticky cunt, fingers rubbing between your folds. "I'm punishing you in front of my men and all you do is get wet and moan, not even showing remorse. I'm starting to think you wanted all of this, wanted to be showed off.." a smack landed on your bare pussy, making you cry out. "can't believe something so innocent and shy could be this dirty.." his voice was merely more than a low growl, boner pressing against your back as he landed another 10 smacks on your bare cunt, your slick dripping down onto his pants. by the last one tears of pleasure dwelled up in your eyes.
"Ph-phil.. please.." you whispered breathlessly. "can't take more.." your chest was rising and falling rapidly, hole clenching around nothing. your husbands hands slowly wandered up your torso until they reached your tits, groping them.
"oh? you can't take any more?" he asked almost sarcastically. "you want me to stop then?" he asked, yet you shook your head, trying to speak as his warm fingers slipped under the fabric to toy with your hard nipples.
"n-no.. I.. I want you.." you choked out in a shaky voice, nails digging into his thighs as you pressed your back against his chest. he laughed briefly, pinching your nipples lightly.
"say what you want. let them hear it." he whispered into your ear, nibbling right underneath it. you cried out, blushing in embarrassment as you looked over to the others, all of them with their cocks in their hands by now. you stammered, a soft sob escaping your throat as his grip on your nipples slowly tightened.
"i.. I want you to fuck my pussy.." you said shakily, almost crying from embarrassment - yet you wouldn't ever want to stop.
"fuck that naughty little pussy of yours?" he scoffed. "reward you after you enjoyed your punishment? seems a little strange, no?" he taunted, making you whine out. Phil chuckled, suddenly pinching your nipples tightly, speaking over you crying out. "beg for it." you hesitated only a moment before desperate pleas fell from your lips, begging him to take you. your voice was shaking, you were stuttering and fumbling with your words, him pulling yout nipples didn't help. only when they slipped out of his grip and your cried out loudly, arching your back he smiled, arms now wrapping around your waist. "good girl, there you go.. how can anyone say no when you beg so pretty?" he hummed, soothing you while one of his hands went to fumble with his belt. he peppered kisses over the side of your neck, nipping and sucking on it while you squirmed in his lap, moaning under his grip. only when he freed his cock and you felt the length against your back he stopped.
his hands snaked under your knees, with ease lifting you up and hovering you over his cock, tip just about grazing your still bare cunt, panties still pulled to the side. you peered down, breath hitching as he moved his hips back and forth, teasing you. "you ready baby?" he asked softly, no malice in his voice for once, just genuinely wanting to check in on you. you took a soft breath and gave him a nod, hands holding onto his forearms. he gave back and affirmative nod, kissing the back of your neck once before pretty much dropping you on his cock, the whole length forced inside your sopping pussy. you cried out loudly, arching your back as he growled, the feeling of your tight walls driving him insane.
"fuck, I missed your tight little cunt..." he muttered, hands gripping your lower thighs tightly to lift you again until he was about halfway outside of you, holding you there. he took a deep breath before slowly rocking his hips up into you, letting you get used to it. the feeling was intense, whether it was that he hadn't fucked you due to being away on a mission; or the eyes of the shadows burning into your cunt being split open by his cock. the thrusts were gentle but that didn't last long, he was growing desperate himself. no matter how hard he had tried to hold back, within minutes he was slamming his hips up into you, groaning and grunting while you were crying softly, drool running down your chin from the overwhelming pleasure. his fingertips dug into your thighs, feeling you become fully loose around him, the gushing sounds making his cock twitch. it didn't take long for you to squirm, getting closer to cumming with each passing minute. of course Phil noticed, he had seen it time and time before.
"you gonna cum?" he asked harshly, out of breath but refusing to slow his thrusts. "do you even fucking deserve that, slut? this was supposed to be a punishment.." his words made you shiver and clench, whining loudly. "should be so thankfulI'm m even fucking you right now.. should've just let the boys have their way with you.." his words made the knot in your stomach tighten by far, another sob escaping you. "shouldn't be letting you cum at all, should i?"
by now all your dignity and most of your shyness were gone, so almost naturally desperate pleas started falling from your lips. "please, Phil.. I gotta cum, can't take it anymore.. I'll be good I promise.. do anything you want.." the words made a chill run down his spine. even if he wanted to he couldn't hold back now.
"fuck.." he muttered, hand reaching towards your pussy to give it a good smack, you cried out. "cum for me doll.." he huffed through gritted teeth, fingers now rubbing your clit. within just seconds your eyes rolled back, all your reservation gone as you came over his cock, head falling back, whole body quivering as you drooled. incoherent thank yous spilled from your lips as he fucked you through your high, chasing his own - which luckily for him didn't take too long, especially with your sweet cries. he dropped you down on his cock again, the whole length disappearing inside you as he bit your shoulder hard, drawing a final cry from you before he came deep inside you.
#yes thats how you spell negligee. yes i had to google. yes it looks weird#gothghostiie#ask ghostiie#cod#cod mw2#cod mwii#call of duty#graves#graves cod#cod graves#Phillip graves#philip graves#graves x reader#phillip graves x reader#philip graves x reader#shadow company#commander phillip graves#graves x reader smut#phillip graves x you#philip graves x you#nsft#smut#cod smut
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accidentally revealing your relationship || lee jeno
idol!jeno x gamer!reader
wc: 435
an: hi! this is my first post here, i originally posted this on insta years ago but i recently shut that account down and didn't want these writings to disappear. i have a couple more older writings to post here and a few ideas of more things to write, so i'll see you all later!
After finishing setting up your stream, you messaged your friends letting them know you were about to log in. You were a pretty popular Twitch streamer with fan from all across the world. Before going live, you quickly texted your boyfriend Jeno telling him not to interrupt you during your livestream. You and Jeno have been dating for 8 months but have decided to keep your relationship private since you were both in the public eye. You didn't mind keeping it a secret and actually preferred it to be. You liked your privacy and keeping your personal life separate from your online persona. Jeno was staying at your apartment this weekend since he had some time off and it had been a long time since you both spent time together. You sat perfectly in frame with your bookshelf and bedroom door behind you. After starting the livestream you greeted everyone while waiting for the view count to go up. "Hi everyone! Welcome in. Today we're gonna be playing some Among Us with a few friends."
The stream was going great, you were interacting with the chat and even reached a new record of 60k viewers. This round you were the imposter and you were trying to come up with a strategy to win. You followed the other crewmates around, faking tasks and trying to blend in when suddenly your bedroom door swings open and you hear a familiar voice. "Baby I'm home. I missed you so much." Startled by the voice, you jumped in your seat and accidentally vented in front of everyone. "Aahhh! Jeno get out, I'm live right now."
"I'm sorry. I didn't know"
" I texted you earlier. Did you not see it?"
He looked down at his phone and saw one unread message from you. "Oops" he said laughing nervously and scratching the back of his head. Your eyes filled with fear knowing that over 60 thousand people saw what just happened. The chat immediately started asking questions like,
"Is that your boyfriend?"
"JENO???"
"OMFG y/n are you dating Jeno?"
Fans quickly turned to Twitter and started sharing video clips of what just happened. The news spread like wildfire and soon became a trending topic. Surprisingly the response from fans was extremely positive and people were happy for the both of you. Clearly embarrassed, you hid your face and started to sink down into your chair. Jeno made his way over to you and placed a soft kiss on your cheek. "It's alright baby. Now that the news is out I can finally show the world how much I love you."
#nct#nct dream#nct imagines#nct dream imagines#nct fic#nct scenarios#nct fluff#nct jeno#nct dream jeno#lee jeno#njmcvlt
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Cloudy With a Chance of Murder.
Part I: leaving the crime scene.
This was... well, it was more difficult than she had anticipated.
They had spent the last two weeks together. With his mother and daughter in Europe celebrating Alexis' graduation, and Kate being forced to serve out her suspension, they'd had the freedom to really dive into this honeymoon stage of their relationship.
Honeymoon seemed very accurate, too. With the exception of venturing out for the necessities - you know; food, fresh air, the occasional spot of sunshine - they had spent almost the entire two weeks behind closed walls of both her apartment and Castle's loft. Their homes were their sanctuary, a safe haven where they could just be; where they could kiss, and touch, and laugh without fear of outside judgement. So quickly, she had grown used to that, grown accustom to living life in Castle's pocket; never more than the flex of a pinky-finger away from him.
That was the first thing she missed; the proximity. He was still right by her side, but there was at least 15 inches of unwanted distance between them at all times. She was also suddenly so aware of how impossible it felt to look at him and not smile. She was constantly having to school her expression, to bite down on her lip to stop it from curling into an expression of amusement as he said something so typically Castle. His commentary about the weather girl's assets should have earned him a disapproving frown, not a stifled smirk, but she just couldn't help herself...
And Lanie was too observant for Kate's liking.
Something's changed, her friend had so innocently commented, setting off Beckett's spiral of doubt.
Lanie didn't know the half of it. Two weeks had felt like a lifetime and - in Beckett's mind, at least - nothing was the same. It never would be. She was equal parts thrilled and terrified.
Beckett slipped into her seat behind the steering wheel and slammed the door shut behind her.
"Woah!" Castle looked at her from the passenger's side. "You okay?"
"You need to cool it," she warned.
Castle frowned, confused and offended and... well, mainly just confused and offended. "What did I do? Was it my comment about Mandy Mich-"
"Lanie is onto us," Beckett blurted.
"Oh." Castle visibly relaxed and leant back into the seat. He chuckled and Beckett turned her head to look at him. "Lanie is not onto us."
"Castle, she noticed something was up within seconds of seeing us."
"Within seconds of seeing you," he corrected. "Maybe you're the one who needs to cool it," he joked.
"I'm trying but you keep..." Her voice trailed off.
"Keep what?"
She dropped her head back against the headrest, closed her eyes and let out a long sigh.
"God, you're not even doing anything, are you?" She opened her eyes and fixed her posture before raking her nails through her hair. "Okay, you know what? It is me. I need to cool it."
She inhaled deeply, then let the breath out slowly.
"I'm fine," she insisted.
They both knew she was anything but...
"Do I really get you that hot and bothered, Detective?" Castle asked in a low, lusty voice that sent a shiver down her spine.
"Castle," she whined. "Please don't."
He could see that she was genuinely worried, that the fear of them getting caught - the fear he had spent days trying to convince her was unnecessary - had returned with a vengeance. He wouldn't push it; wouldn't tease her anymore.
"I'll stop," he assured her with a comforting smile.
But goddammit, if that show of solitude wasn't the sexiest damn thing he'd done all day...
^^ how she feels when Castle respects her boundaries without hesitation or childish ribbing. Girl, control yourself!
#my drabbles#kate beckett#richard castle#caskett#castle#kate beckett x richard castle#castle fanfiction
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Shun the Light - Ch. 7 - The Garden
Slow Burn | Refuge | Decision | Mend | Hunger | Thin Mints |
Author's Notes: Thanks a bunch to everyone who has read these so far <3
Content Warnings: honestly none this time? There are some graves. That's about it.
----
By the next evening Matteo is inexplicably still in the house. Feeling better after a couple days in a real bed, he gets up and does some stretches, then goes to look for his host.
Outside the sun hasn't quite set, and Matteo concludes that the vampire is still sleeping. He's at a loss for what to do.
I should leave.
The weather has improved but Matteo isn't exactly eager to be out in the wilderness again. Eventually he'll need a meal that isn't a box of cookies, and he imagines the reclusive vampire will want his peace and quiet back. But Matteo can't bring himself to walk out the door just yet.
I'll at least wait to thank him first. That's what he tells himself.
In the meantime he wanders the big old house. He doesn't open any doors, drawers, or closets, mostly to respect the owner's privacy but also a little out of fear of what he might find.
Some parts of the home are well kept while others show their age. Matteo can't help noticing the discolored rectangles of varying sizes on the walls where frames once hung, or how every mirror is covered with a sheet.
He ends up at an ornate dining room. Chunks of what was once a large, solid wood table are shoved into a pile in the corner, and all its chairs stacked against the wall and covered, leaving only a small round table with a single chair in an alcove by the window. The curtains are shut.
On the table is a small stack of opened envelopes, yellowed with age and crumpled from regular use. Each contains a folded letter, but Matteo refuses to give in to the curiosity to read them. He only looks at the fronts, which are all postmarked with dates from the 1970s and all addressed to the same person - Philip Townsend.
That must be him.
Matteo parts the curtains a little so he can look outside. The window allows a perfect view of what must have been an incredible garden, with multiple levels, walking paths, benches, and even a small fountain. All of it grown over with vines and roots and fallen leaves, as if the forest is slowly closing in around the house and its lonely inhabitant.
He slips quietly out a back door into the garden. It's a cool, clear night. As he ventures further he keeps his gaze away from the bright moon and on the stone path before him, quickly regretting coming out here without a shirt or shoes.
About halfway in he comes upon a clearing - and stops abruptly.
Matteo stares at the four graves that are framed by a circle of trimmed shrubs, the only attempt anyone has made to maintain order.
Each grave has a roughly made marker, slabs of wood engraved with names and dates.
Three are clustered closer together. They read: William Henry Townsend, Mary Esther (Bailey) Townsend, Philip James Townsend.
The fourth reads Dario Alberti.
Matteo is fixated on one of the graves in particular when suddenly he gets the feeling he isn't alone. He can feel the vampire's presence just a few feet behind him.
He turns to look at him, trying to put a coherent thought together.
"If...if he's here..." Matteo motions to Philip's grave. "...then who are you?"
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i don't work for three days in a row and i'm suddenly afraid that i won't be able to do anything and i'll have forgotten everything when i go in on friday
#i'm a little silly i think#begging myself to let me relax#it's FINE#we don't need to overthink every little detail#it's making bagels and coffee it will be okay#is there a name for when you start a new job and you just keep going and going for a month#and then you go away for a few days and as long as you're away you're fine#but when you get home you suddenly have this fear#😬#i think it's also because i might be asked to be team leader and the thing is. i Want to be. i feel ambition for the first time#it's fucking scary
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i was talking to my mom about my job sucking and she kept pushing like well every job sucks. and kept pushing like girl if it all sucks the same why are you leaving urs
#personal#it’s just annoying cause like what are you arguing against. you actively want me to get a different job#also just let me complain. i’m aware every job sucks don’t remind me i will kill myself over that thought. but like extremely aware#but some have to suck less#like i imagine there’s a job where i don’t work ten hour shifts with one 15 and lunch and am expected to only spend 10 minutes per day#to piss#and i want a mom that can comfort me beyond kicking me out when i call out#i’m scared about how much i hate working and how awful it feels#i’m terrified about how i’m supposed to live the rest of my life#my room has been messy for over 9 months#i go home and just stare at my phone or nothing and suddenly it’s 2 am and i have work so soon#and my days off i spend catching up on sleep and wasting them#i’m just so tired and scared and scared of how apathetic everything but fear and sadness feels#and it’s just like this forever and i don’t have a mom that will hug me or try to make me feel better just#if you want to die you should kill urself and everything sucks everywhere it doesn’t get better#LIE to me im#off the fucking deep end
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In one misfortunate year I ended up getting into several car accidents. It cemented my general fear and anxiety in cars, because in each case I was either in the car but not driving or driving safely when suddenly something hit me.
One was my ex driving in an unfamiliar city and cutting someone off on accident that resulted in a sideswipe. Another was getting rear ended when I came to a required stop.
The last was when I had a green arrow at an intersection. I turned and was smashed into by someone running a red light, T-boning my little car.
Dazed and in shock I tottered out of the car to behold a crusty older man eating a donut step out of the offending vehicle. A fire truck arrived to block us off from traffic since my car could no longer move under its own power.
“Were you on your way home from work?” The firemen asked me.
I shook my head, struggling to focus on them, “No,” I said vaguely, “I was on my way home from volunteering at the animal shelter.”
In an instant they were closing ranks around me, glaring at the ambivalent donut man who would dare to hit a tiny frail angel who volunteered at the animal shelter. They asked if I needed to get anything out of my car. I did.
“It’s… uh. It’s a little weird though.”
They gestured for me to proceed. I grabbed a bag with snacks and books and filled it with things I couldn’t just leave in my car. Last out I pulled my cutlass.
“Is that a sword?!”
It was. They were instantly like giant puppy dogs, excited and delighted but trying to mind their manners. The bravest said, “Can we…?” I held out the sword. They whooped with delight, unsheathing and marveling at it.
“Why do you have that in your car?”
“I honestly don’t remember, it’s just a fun thing to have at a party now.”
“Is your wrist okay?”
My shock was wearing off and I realized I was cradling my wrist to my chest. “Oh.” I rummaged into my bag and pulled out a wrist brace.
“Wh….why do you already have that?” I was starting to confuse the firemen. I volunteered with cats, had a sword offhand, and kept a wrist brace in my car bag.
“Sometimes I try to hold books in a way that sprains my wrist? So I have this in my car just in case.”
They stared at me. Maybe, like my wife, they assumed it was for masturbation induced injuries. They handed my sword back as the tow truck arrived and thanked me for letting them play with it. They gave donut man one last glare and drove their big truck away.
#ramblies#ffs foibles#story#writing#I ended up not having a witness and there was no cameras so my insurance didn’t back me#I’m willing to bet any of those nice firemen would’ve lied for me if I’d thought to ask
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COMING DOWN w/Jujutsu Kaisen
( TW ) BDSM (Sukuna's only), master!Sukuna, punishment, spanking, pussy job, cream pie, praise, fingering, explicit content
FEATURING: Ryomen Sukuna, Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, and Nanami Kento
Author’s note: I fear I can only write stern Sukuna, also the way word deleted this and I had the spend my morning rewriting it…
☾ GOJO SATORU
“Mm–fuck, oh fuck angel, I’m cumming!” Gojo whines, shooting his load into your abused cunt. You arch your back deeper, shoving your face into the pillow. “Fuck, princess—fuck—feel s’good,” He collapses onto you, heaving.
You whine at his weight unable to stay up. Satoru falls with you.
“S’ so good princess, you’re always s’good to me.” Satoru spills, drunk on you. You whimper, tilting your head to kiss his cheek. He nuzzles into you, murmuring out incoherent praise.
“Toru, you’re too heavy, get off.” You try and fail to shrug him off.
“Mm—don’t wanna, so comfy.” He slurs, and you know if he doesn’t get up within the next five minutes you both are going to fall asleep covered in sweat, tears, and cum.
“We gotta wash up ‘Ro. C’mon the quicker we clean up the quicker we can cuddle and watch the next episode of our show.” Satoru protest for a several minutes before kissing the side of your face a few times and lifting himself, his cock slipping out. You gasp, suddenly feeling empty. Your pussy clenched in attempt to keep him cum in. You turn to watch a naked Satoru walk over to grab the baby wipes on the dresser.
“C’mere baby, lemme clean you up.”
☾ RYOMEN SUKUNA
“One more, little girl.” Sukuna grunts, his heavy hand on your back rubbing soothing circles. He brings the belt down again. You gasp, voice hoarse for all the screaming and crying you’ve already done.
“All done, now c’mere.” Sukuna orders you up from your position across his lap, manhandling you until you wrap around him.
“M’sorry, m’sorry, won’t do it again I promise, I'll be good now.” You cry into the crock of his neck, overwhelmed with emotions. You feel embarrassed, guilty, and cared for all at once. Only Sukuna can make you feel such contradictory emotions.
“Shush, it’s okay little girl, I know, you took your punishment like a good girl you know that?” He gently grabs the side of your head, forcing you to look up at him. You have to blink a few times before you can see his face. “Proud of you.” He smiles, leaning down to kiss your lips—swollen from biting down so hard.
Your heart flutters at the praise, you may not like getting punished but the soft moments after when Sukuna whispers sweet nothings to you will always make it better.
“I love–” You hiccup. “L-love you Ryo.” You rub your cheek on his warm palm, ready to fall asleep and start the new day on a clean slate.
“I love you too little one, you know what to say.” He shakes your head with his hand, the other starting to rub soothing circles on your thighs. “Thank you for my punishment master, I understand why you did it and I appreciate you for correcting me.”
“Good girl, now lay down on your stomach while I rub this cream on your ass alright?”
☾ NANAMI KENTO
“K-Kento—” You moan, wrapping your arms tighter around his shoulders.
“Shush, it’s okay love, let it happen, you’re alright.” He whispers into your ear, jackhammering his fingers into your wet cunt. You cry into his now-drenched shoulder, as Nanami finger fucks you to another orgasm. He whispers sweet nothing as you come down from another high, and collapse on his chest.
“That’s right Love–jus’ relax for me.” he says, as he pulls his fingers out of your pussy and wraps his strong arms around your waist.
“You relaxed now sweetheart?”
“Mhm, thank you, Ken.”
“You gonna tell me what happened?” He rubs your back, patiently waiting for you to tell him what caused you to come home on the verge of a breakdown.
“I-I don’t wanna. It’s embarrassing.” You mumble ashamed that you let your co-workers get to you.
“Nothin’ you say will ever make me judge you sweetheart. You know you can tell me anything.” He reassures.
“I know Kento, thank you for always bein’ there for me.”
“I love you, sweetheart. That means I'll always will there whenever you need me to be—in any way you need me to.”
“I love you too Kento. Do you think we can go get some ice-cream then I can tell you what happened?”
“Of course we can Love.”
☾ GETO SUGURU
“That’s it sweet girl–mm fuck–that’s it.” Geto grunts, sliding your pussy over his cock before lifting you and releasing his load on your thighs. You gasp at the sight of your boyfriend cumming on your naked thighs. Suguru sighs, the grip on your hips softening after several seconds.
“Suguru—”
“I know baby, I know.” He reassures, bringing his hands underneath the hoodie you’re wearing. He caresses his hands up and down your sides. You blink sleepily about to fall into Suguru’s big chest before you remember the sticky mess between your tights.
“Sugu, ‘m dirty.” You pout. He grins up at you.
“The prettiest dirty girl I’ve ever seen.”
“Suguru!” You slap his chest. He laughs ever harder, grabbing your hand to sprinkle kisses on your knuckles. You smile down at him. He looks like the prettiest boy you’ve ever seen. Long black hair sprawled against the white pillow. Intense brown eyes that look up at you like you’re the only girl in the world worth his time.
“Let’s get clean up dirty girl–C’mon, up we go.” Suguru picks you up by the waist and carries you to the bathroom. He sets you down on the counter before he grabs a clean rag.
“Thank you, baby.” You whisper as you wash him clean your thighs.
“No, thank you for bein’ so good to me sweet girl.” He stands up to kiss you sweetly. “Never thought I’d get so lucky—you’re the best girl, my best girl. Love you s’much.”
#𐙚 ࣪ ˖ sugume writes#𐙚 ࣪ ˖ smut journal#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo x y/n#gojo x you#smut#jjk#sukuna x you#ryomen sukuna#sukuna x reader#sukuna scenarios#sukuna smut#sukuna x y/n#sukuna ryomen#geto smut#geto suguru#geto x reader#jjk geto#geto x y/n#geto x you#jjk x y/n#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk nanami#nanami x reader#nanami kento#nanami smut#nanami x you
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Danny laid across his throne, legs planted across the left arm of the ornate chair and back pressed uncomfortably against the right.
"Listen," Danny started, letting his head flop to the side as he glared at a hovering Observant. "This meeting has wasted enough of my time. You all have been arguing for hours and that's without Clockwork slowing things down."
"Your Majesty, this is a matter of great importance. Belial means to overthrow and rule my-our world!"
"I am distinctly aware aware of that," Ancients, Danny couldn't wait to go home and rid himself of the formal speech he'd had to adopt in order to be taken seriously. Well, as seriously as he cared to be taken when sprawled across his throne instead of sitting on it intimidatingly or something. He slowly placed his gaze on the suddenly still demon sitting across from him. "Yet you've proposed fifteen different plans that were all unviable for whatever reasons you've cooked up. Your conclusion is that I must step in. Does your world not have heroes to take care of it?"
The demon- another lord of hell from this Belial’s universe- fell silent.
“Ah. But if they do, they would also take care of you.”
“No- no, that’s not-”
Danny allowed his voice to drop to the artic freeze he knew his core was capable of. "I opened these these doors to allow all of you to present me with reasonable concerns regarding your own universes and realms. What is not on the table for discussion is your petty politics. Do you think I am unaware of your intentions in tattling to me? That I do not know you are trying to use me to further your own position?"
"Your Majesty, I-" The demon growled out, fear slowly coating its expression.
"It no longer amuses me. You think that I am young and easy to manipulate." Danny froze the demon to its chair. It tried to break free, but Danny isn't the High King of the Infinite Realms for nothing. "Bring to me a miserable problem like this ever again, one that could be easily solved if you used even a smidgen of your intelligence, and you will find exactly how I tore Pariah Dark from his throne."
Not that Danny knew how he did it either, he just did it.
"Yes, Your Majesty. My-my apologies."
The room is dead (Danny patted himself on the back for the pun) silent. Some of the Ancients looked bored, like Clockwork who knew Danny would never hurt them, but everyone else looked close to crying. He held eye contact with the demon until it looked away.
When Danny settled back into the throne and allowed his ice to dissipate, the room let out a collective sigh of relief.
"The next item on the agenda is another demon, by the name of Trigon." Clockwork announced, the large piece of paper comically huge next to his currently toddler-like body.
"Another?"
He flicked an amused look at the previous demon, who kept his trap firmly shut.
"He is attempting to take over multiple worlds in an attempt to conquer the universe. I had thought you would be interested in this one, Your Majesty, as he plans to begin with Earth 135."
Danny stilled. That was his Earth. His haunt.
"Does he know of the Realms?"
"Vaguely, I believe."
"Then he should know the rules. I will wait to see if my Earth's heroes are capable to step to the task."
Danny would be a hypocrite if he doesn’t let the heroes of his Earth try first, even if he is one of those heroes.
"Of course," Clockwork grinned at him, fully aware of the shit Danny's about to stir back home. Ah, the wonders of being able to influence the time stream. Perhaps the young Ghost King will finally get some friends, and maybe get those pesky speedsters to stop making his jobs so hard. Cujo yipped at Danny as the King begrudgingly moved onto the next topic.
——
Raven shuddered as she watched the footage of her "brothers" laughing while steering their human "meatbags" around. She turned back to the giant circle of donated blood and herb filled candles.
“This is a nuclear option, don’t you think?” Green Arrow mumbled, clearly not against it by the half hearted way he’d said it. The Star City billionaire nursed his cracked ribs.
“No,” she floated over to where Zatanna and Constantine kneeled, trying to see if they needed help with the inscriptions. “Trigon is coming soon, and my brothers will no doubt find their way here in a moment. We are out of time.”
“Yeah. Plus, we don’t want Raven to be turned into a portal.” Garfield piped up, switching animal forms rapidly.
“No one dies.” Red Robin muttered. His wrist computer was open, monitoring the surroundings of the open field they found themselves uneasily occupying. Batman grunted in affirmation, eyeing the tree line. Every hero except the magical ones were on look out, preparing themselves for one more battle against the two demons that were trying to take Raven and force her into becoming a portal.
“Hey guys, we might want to hurrythisupbecausethey’re kind of close!” Impulse slammed into the room.
“Done.” Zatanna got up, motioning for everyone to step back. In Superman’s case, he floated back.
“Too bad you won’t get to use it,” a voice drawled, dripping with malice and the screams of a thousand souls.
“Come now, little sister. Why fight fate? Be grateful father has deigned to spare you. If not for your dirty blood being useful, you would be dead, little sister. Give up, before our patience runs out alongside the lives of your little pets.” Another, mocking, voice gleefully rumbled.
Raven would rather gouge out her own heart than to claim these two as any type of family.
“You won’t touch them.” Raven snarled, powers rising even as the marks on her body burned a painful red.
“Buy us some time!”
With that, the group of beaten and battered heroes rose to clash against just two demons, for a chance to save their world.
——
The Circle crackled. Danny felt a tug on his core. He followed the thread of the summoning. Oh. It was his haunt. Earth 135. Hm. It tasted of blood. Desperation? A hint of anticipation. Oh, an overload of fear. Could use some more hope, but Danny understood that it was rather hard to season these kinds of summonings with hope.
“Stop.” Danny commanded, straightening in his chair.
“Sire, we have more-”
“There is an issue with my haunt,” with that, he followed the summons.
——
“Ugh,” was the first thing everybody on the frozen battlefield heard. The demons had smacked away many of the heroes, but they all turned as one when the circle lit up a bright green. “Why do you people always use blood? I’m dead, I don’t need any more iron!”
A boy
Raven’s eldest brother let out a hideous rumble. “You fools tried to summon the king, and you got a dead boy. And now, you’ve doomed another.”
Constantine looked resigned, and regretful. “I am so, so sorry,” he whispered. It was just a kid. John might be a lot of things, but even he found summoning dead kids for demons to devour was just a step too far. “Shite, we got the wrong fucking-”
“Hey, man, that’s rude,” the boy snapped back, waving John off.
“Brother, kill the whelp.”
“I vote on not killing the whelp. Not killing at all, really,” the boy stepped out of the massive blood circle, wrinkling his nose at the drying stains.
“This is not one of your pesky democracies, fool.”
In response, the demons lunged at him, ignoring the screams of the surrounding heroes as they shoved their human arms through the boy’s stomach.
“So,” the boy continues, “I heard your dad was after my haunt?”
“Your haunt, whelp? This earth shall be his! And through him, ours!” Raven slammed against the demons with her power, shadows enlarging and tossing them away from the unharmed… ghost boy?
“Is it?”
——
Wow, these demons are so rude. Normally, it’d be a breath of fresh air compared to the stuffy halls of his throne room. But since they’re attacking his haunt…
“Thanks. You’re… Raven, right?”
Raven nodded, arms outstretched in concentration as she held her brothers back.
“You have to go. We’re- we’re sorry you got pulled into this, but it’s not safe here.”
“Eh. It’s cool. You don’t have to do that anymore, by the way.” Danny stepped forward once more, green skin shifting and gliding as everything about him sharpened. He flew at the demons piloting the human shells, catching them around the necks and dragging the demons out of their stolen bodies. The threw them even further away as he floated in the air, a beacon of green and white. Raven thought it looked like hope.
“My name is Phantom, the High King of the Infinite Realms,” let it be known that Danny always had an eye for dramatic entrances. He shifted into something more off, more eldritch, more kingly. The crown flared to life above his head. “You have invaded my haunt. You have challenged me. What do you plead?”
“You’re not-” they said.
“Wrong answer,” Danny flew at them once more, body contorting into something undeniably terrorizing, his maw unhinging and crunching down on the demons with a sound that made the present heroes cringe.
“Ugh,” Danny grunted, turning back and floating peacefully to the group of heroes- Tucker and Sam would be so stoked he met Wonder Woman and Batman!- and chewed rapidly. He shifted back into his normal form. “Eating demons always leaves me with indigestion. And their bones get everywhere up in my teeth!” Danny pulled out a giant femur looking bone from his mouth, despite it not logically fitting in there.
“Right. No eating demons, solid life advice.” Red Robin said.
“Right? So, you’re Raven! It’s nice to meet you! Think you can summon your dear ol’ dad for me?”
“But we summoned you to stop Trigon, not help him come here.” Superman said, frowning.
“One! That summoning circle is wack. Those things you piled up as offerings? Mid. Also, if you thought you could control me with those terribly written spells, you’re dead wrong. And yes, I am making puns about death.” Danny jabs an aggressive finger towards the shabby circle.
“Have you considered that maybe not every being that can be summoned wants a shit ton of useless blood? Like what if I wanted food? And two, how am I supposed to beat up Trigon if he’s still stuck in the prison realm?”
“I have a cup of coffee,” Nightwing offered. “Kid Flash could probably get you food, right?”
“Yep, surethinganythingyouwantyourMajesty.”
“You wouldn’t catch me alive accepting food from a speedster. You people fuck up the timelines so much,” Danny grumbled, crunching on the last of Raven’s brothers. Raven thought she should probably sit down.
“But you’re dead.” Batman said, something about his voice catching the sharp attention of his protégés who all started making cutting motions at him.
“Fair,” Danny pointed at him, grinning. “I’ll take two pizza and Nightwing’s coffee as payment for taking care of your little demon overlord problem. Raven, summon your dad.”
——
Didn’t much like the characterization of this piece but it’s been in my drafts for a while and I needed it out
#ghost king danny#danny fenton#danny phantom#batman#bruce wayne#justice league#summoning ritual#gone right#dcxdp#dpxdc#Batman’s instant adoption tendencies#I wanted to write more heroes but tbh they’re a lot of work#red Robin#raven teen titans#nightwing#tim drake#dick grayson#bamf danny phantom#dc impulse#kid flash#tbh I have trouble with the speedsters#I love them#but they mess up the timelines like crazy#clockwork#this was written listening to the original teen titans theme song#bc it was my goddamn childhood ok#beast boy#garfield something something
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biggest scandals they have faced
ft. actor!nanami kento, fushiguro toji x wife!reader (separated)
content warnings: fluff, light angst, jjk actor au, celebrity issues, cheating allegations, divorce allegations, none of them are true, misogyny, mentions of infertility, just cruel stuff based on the issues i see online, slightly suggestive (making out), toji and wife call each other "ma" and "pa", mentions/hinting of sex, internet trolls, horrible people online, pls don't read if these issues are triggering to you, shitty article names lol
wc: 2052
note: this got too long, will do other parts for the other actors instead <33 happy holidays, everyone!
NANAMI KENTO:
Jujutsu Kaisen Star Nanami Kento Facing Trouble in Paradise: Leads to Divorce
to say he was irritated when he saw the headlines from the tabloids was an understatement, he is beyond livid. but the comments just made everything worse.
user_1: wow aren't they married for years already? maybe his wife can't conceive any babies? LOL
user_2: must be, or maybe nanami's just realized his wife is just using him for his actor money
user_3: the wife doesn't know to make a sandwich i fear
user_4: maybe he got tired of his wife's ugly face, no wonder he hides it from the internet hahaha
kento doesn't give a fuck if people were dragging his name left and right but god forbid it involves you, his loving wife who has been nothing but utterly supportive of his career. for someone who stuck by his side for years, it angers him that people immediately assume that you were the problem. he knows the news isn't true, he literally just cuddled with you last night, so to say that you were getting a divorce almost makes him laugh if it weren't how stupid this situation is.
when his manager informed him about the situation, he immediately cancelled every schedule that he has for today, he will call the lawyers to settle this later but for now, his main focus is you.
you are someone who is used to the privacy of your own space which is why you opted to keep your face off his socials and remain anonymous to the eyes of his fans. kento hates it that your peace is getting disturbed due to his stardom, so he is willing to drop everything just to go home to you and comfort you. no one knows who you really are but the way it made people talk like they do, makes him angry. no way his wife is going to be disrespected like this.
the moment kento opens the door the your shared home, he's panting, sweat evident in his forehead and worry present in his eyes as he looks at you across the living room, sitting on the couch with your phone in your hands.
"shit," he thought, he knows you already saw the news, and worse the comments. he can tell just by your body language. your eyes sunken in sadness and your lips form a frown. he doesn't see it but he knows your heart is breaking too.
"honey," kento breathes out as he walks towards you. he knows you heard him, but you stay in your position, disbelief flooding your senses. suddenly, you came back to reality when you feel kento's warm embrace, his large and quick hands getting rid of your phone before placing it on your head and immediately feeling his chest against your head.
his breathing his ragged, unstable deep breaths as he tells you, "it's gonna be okay," and a thousand apologies to go with it. you nod instead, finding yourself difficult to talk. you opt to rub onto his arm, a silent reply to his comforting and kento seems to understand your gesture. he then kisses the crown of your head as he pulls you tighter in his embrace.
"am i holding you back, kento?" you asked, your voice quite muffled as you speak through his button down blouse.
"oh god, darling you will never hold me back, if anything, you keep me moving. don't listen to them, alright? i'm happy and contented to where we are right now, don't worry about it." he lets go of the embrace and cups your face with both of his hands. he looks at you with loving eyes as he brushes your lower lip with his thumb. you close your eyes as he leaned closer, then you finally felt his lips against yours. he gives a peck, another, and then a third one before he crashes his lips onto you for the last time as he takes his time to explore your mouth.
kento knows a lot of ways to apologize, and this is one of them. he is gentle, but his love is loud as he allows his tongue clash against yours, the wet squelch filling up the room as he allows himself to be drunk with your lips.
when kento lets go, his breathing is heavy but satisfied. "i'll take care of everything from then on, okay?" he says as he caresses your face and a smile creeps to his face when you lean towards his touch with a nod. "will you be releasing a statement?" you ask.
"yeah, i'll contact our lawyer about it and then we'll see what we can do." his answer earned a curt nod from you. kento noticed pursed your lips, obviously thinking about something.
"are you still bothered by the comments?"
"no, i mean, i'm a bit upset about how people were talking about me online but i'm just curious as to where all this came from."
"hmm, yeah, we'll take care of that too, for now, just rest your pretty mind and always remember that i will never leave you. that okay?" his gentle voice makes your heart feel full, and that's you know that your husband will always be at your beck and call. "yeah." you answered as you give his lips a quick peck, "i love you," you added.
"i love you too."
not a even a day later, the JJK LABEL had released a statement and an article regarding the fake news that had surfaced.
Nanami Kento Slams Fake Divorce Article: "Don't project your problems in your love life through me and my wife."
"the article itself and the comments are horrible and people are stupid enough to believe something that came from a tabloid known to release fake news. maybe this just tells about how gullible and stupid people are for believing groundless rumors and not my relationship." the artist stated.
"to everyone involved in the release of this article, we will see you on court and i hope you have any evidence about your claim. to the people who threw disgusting comments about my wife, please worry how alone you are instead of snooping around our relationship." he adds.
that day, kento's fanbase rejoice as the tabloids finally got their karma when it was reported that their company was finally shut down.
FUSHIGURO TOJI:
it was a normal day in the fushiguro household until megumi bursts in through the door with a loud and resounding—
"dad, what the fuck?"
"megumi, language, please!" you warned him.
your word goes through megumi's ears and went to his dad who is currently lounging in the living room reading his script. he paid his son's words no mind and gave him a raised eyebrow, urging him to continue.
"your name is all over tabloids because of a forum post. look," megumi says as he faces his phone screen to toji's face. to say that he's horrified to what he just saw is an understatement. so, with a worry mind, you go behind toji's lounging chair and read what's on the screen.
Acting Veteran 'T' Caught in An Affair!
At the night of Tuesday, Actor 'T' is caught leaving a hotel with a seemingly younger woman clinging on his arms. The two are being lovey-dovey in their Shibuya rendezvous. Actor 'T' is currently married with a child which makes everything even more scandalous. What would actor 'T'’s wife and child think about this? Seems like the man really took a liking towards sneaking away with younger women.
Actor 'T'’s identity will be released by [MM/DD/YY] so stay tuned! For now, let us know your thoughts below.
user_1: actor veteran and the code is T? must be toji then?
user_2: this is definitely toji lmfao he looks like someone who would fool a younger woman
user_3: his wife must be so rusty now so he's running to the younglings LOL
user_4: respect for having the balls to cheat on his wife after this long, ik his ass is itching
user_5: @user_4 LMFAO should've done it sooner! bet he doesn't want to pay child support so he's staying 😂
user_6: NOOOO the GOAT got caught damn we were rooting for u 👑
"what the fuck?" both you and toji's voice were erupting in the whole room. out of shock? anger? rage? megumi is not sure but there is one thing he's sure of, both of you are being scary right now and the red in both of you and husband's eyes are almost showing due to the high range of emotions you were both feeling right now.
despite knowing that toji is utterly in love with you and he was actually with you that day, it scares him that his father is facing this kind of scandal. people are horrible out there trying to ruin his father's career that he worked hard on and this is the proof.
toji might be used to having false rumors spread about him all over the years he is in the acting industry, but what he can't take is people talking shit about his wife and thinking less about her. the comments that he just read just woke up the rage inside of him.
"mom?" megumi had called you since it's been minutes when you had gone quiet. the sight before him broke his heart.
your eyes are trying not to let your tears fall, but the comments are too hurtful to ignore, too cruel to set aside. even though you know that it's covered with a codename (barely), you exactly know it's your husband that they are talking about. you're hurt about the comments but you're most scared of your husband's career coming to a screeching halt.
you suddenly feel your husband hug you so tight and you let it all out. his shirt might get damped but toji doesn't care, comforting his wife comes first. he then tells megumi, "call our lawyer, tell him what we just saw, they'll know what to do," megumi frantically nods and gets out of the house to do what toji had said.
"come on, ma, let's go and get some rest." toji had urged you to go with him.
"pa, this is so ridiculous, i know you know how to deal with these but this is just too much, they're targeting our family now." the sadness in your voice and the tears that flow through face break toji's heart. you don't deserve this. these assholes needed to be taught a lesson, and he knows he won't be nice about it. "i'll take care of this, 'kay? i love you and megs so much, angel."
toji's voice somehow calmed your senses and you let yourself cry in his arms until you're left with no tears. "i'm sorry, i'm too old to cry like this." you said as you try to wipe the remnants of your tears from your face.
"no one's too old to cry, darling," toji coos, glad that you're finally able to calm down, and caresses the back of your head. then, a sly smirk forms on his lips, "you know what else we're not too old for?"
genuinely curious, you look up to him, "what?" you asked.
toji leaned down and whispered, "another child, think we can give megumi a sibling?" and gave you a mischievous look.
"toji!" you exclaimed as you smack his chest, flustered of his words.
"gross, get a room, and is now really the time for this?" you suddenly let go of yourself from toji's grasp the moment you heard megumi back in the living room. toji chuckled, "i got it all covered, both of you rest up and i will deal with all of this." toji walked towards where megumi is standing and gives his head a gentle pat, "no one's gonna ruin us, alright?"
the conviction in toji's voice made it clear to both of you and megumi that he already has a plan in mind, and you trust him enough to believe him. he has never let the both of you down, after all.
the next day, news break out the the person who posted the rumor on the online forum is caught with other criminal charges aside from the defamation he just attempted to do. the horrible comments also seem to magically disappear.
Fushiguro Toji Busts Down Anonymous User, Other Criminal Charges Involved
"I hope this serves as a lesson to everyone else. I'm not backing down until everyone gets what they deserve for ruining the names of the people I care about. I will not let go until every single horrible person who rises their tongue against my family is punished." Toji stated.
"Be careful what you read and comment online, please don't forget that the people you talk about are not just subjects, but real human beings." The veteran actor added.
the fake news spreader should have really known not to deal with a veteran who is powerful enough to protect the people he cherishes.
edit: i just noticed that i wasn't able to add the ending to toji's part 😭 my apologies, i fixed it now!
#🧤muse: kento#🧤muse: toji#jjk actor au#nanami fluff#nanami angst#nanami kento x reader#nanami x reader#nanami kento fluff#nanami kento angst#nanami kento x you#nanami kento x yn#nanami x you#toji fluff#toji angst#toji fushiguro x reader#toji x reader#toji fushiguro fluff#toji fushiguro x you#toji fushiguro x yn#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen angst#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk fluff#jjk angst#jjk x reader
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