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seeingivy · 10 months

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enchanted

satoru gojo x f!reader

**part of my debut concert event

**part one of this fic here icymi (read before or its kinda confusing)

**part of my satoru as taylor swift songs series

content: satoru and your parents are annoying, like in the last part, readers mom just says a bunch of mean shit (including comments on body image, etc), gojo being defensive of his wife but also corny asf, babies megumi + tsumiki having lil nightmares and wanting to sleep w their parents

an: KING OF MY HEART IS ONE OF MY FAV FICS EVER. so glad the pookie who requested this asked for it bc I was so excited writing it. also corny lil enchanted lyrics are at the end. mister satoru gojo is enchanted to meet you and ur lil babies megumi and tsumiki just love you

“Dr. L/N?”

You look up from the computer, breaking away from your sheer focus of charting all the patients you just saw in the past hour (nine patients - which sounds mediocre, but in actuality is insanity on earth).

Because when they’re sick, their parents ask a lot of questions. Which you understand and always honor - but that means you’re always running on a back log, running from one room to the next with no breaks in between. Satoru thinks that you’ll collapse on the floor one day while doing it. And you tell him that he’s praying on your downfall.

“Yes, Sarah? What’s up?”

“Your husband’s here to have lunch with you.”

“Ah. I still haven’t caught up on my charting and I really need to-”

You feel a hand on your shoulder, your senior advisor, Dr. Aoki, giving you a warm smile. She’s almost thirty years your senior - soft wrinkles and grey patches spread throughout her hair.

And she really, really loves Satoru. Which you know because she doesn’t shut up about him, always going on about how sweet he is.

“Go. Have lunch with your husband. I’ll finish off for you.”

“Ah. Dr. Aoki, I can’t let you. Plus, you don’t even know-”

“You take detailed notes. And I’m old, but I’m sure I can figure it out. Now go eat lunch with your sweet husband before I do it for you.”

You smile, giving her hand a squeeze, before dragging your feet to the breakroom - suddenly hyperaware of the tension in the back of your knees, your shoulders, and the back of your eyes. Satoru’s waiting for you at the center table - two glass bento boxes and two iced coffee’s sitting on the table.

He’s scrolling aimlessly on his phone and you’re more than positive that he’s playing Cut the Rope. A game Megumi begged him to download, but now he plays more than Megumi. Which just pisses Megumi off, because Satoru plays so far ahead in the game that Megumi can’t even remember which level it was he stopped at.

You look down at the cup of iced coffee, Satoru’s handwriting inscribed on the side.

pookie <;3

Bastard. He knows you hate it when you call him that.

Satoru looks up and smacks his phone down at the table as you take his side, placing your head flat against the clear, white table. Satoru immediately directs his hand to the back of your hair, his fingers soothing into the tense muscles in the back of your neck.

“Hello my little workaholic.”

“Good afternoon my little pain in the ass.”

He laughs, lifting your head up as he opens up the boxes, sliding forward the food he made and sticking the fork in your hand. You look down at the line up - egg fried rice and a wild assortments of fruits and vegetables on the side. They’re all cut into sweet little shapes - the cucumbers in hearts, the strawberries in flowers.

Right. You had tasked Satoru with making Megumi and Tsumiki’s lunches for one week when you were on the night call. When you had returned, all he did was scold you for making very boring lunches for Megumi and Tsumiki.

Granted, you thought they weren’t half bad. You always made sure to give them a little treat - strawberry gummies for Tsumiki and sour candy for Megumi - and left sweet little notes in their lunch boxes, saying you were proud of them, that Megumi was going to do great on his presentation, and that Tsumiki looked pretty today.

Satoru resolved the situation by heading to the store and buying the special little cutouts, shiny new metal tin boxes for Megumi and Tsumiki, and even glittery stationery to leave them both notes.

Yeah and he never let you make their lunch again. He’d often drop by to the office to eat with you, since he knew that was the only time you would eat anything, and bring you by the third box he arranged with theirs in the morning.

“Hard day, my love?”

“Yeah, Satoru. And it’s not even over yet.”

He places the fork in your hand again, instructing you to eat as you keep talking, tasking himself with mixing up the layers of the coffee he brought you.

“What’s the point of working so hard? Didn’t you marry me for my money?”

“Well, obviously but-”

“Hey!”

“What?”

“That’s so rude to admit. You should keep that type of stuff to yourself.”

“Okay, Satoru. You married me as a cover for your girlfriend and-”

“Stop throwing that in my face! So you have one girlfriend and suddenly you’re the bad-”

“It is when you’re married!”

You both laugh, Satoru ruffling your hair, as he opens up the second box, sliding it towards you as you keep eating.

“You don’t want, Toru?”

“No. They’re both for you. You really do work too hard, Y/N.”

“Well. Our parents could cut us off - we don’t exactly do everything they want. And I want to be self sufficient and be a good role model for-”

“Tsumiki and Megumi. I know, my love. I’m just saying.”

You lean into Satoru’s touch, placing your aching head against his shoulder as he leans over, pressing a kiss to the top of your forehead. You finish off your own box (and Satoru’s) and down your iced coffee (and half of Satoru’s, before he starts scolding you about healthy caffeine intakes).

He gives you a sweet kiss goodbye, giving soft smiles to the rest of your coworkers, as you buckle in for the rest of your shift.

“Satoru.”

“Hm.”

“Look at what my mom texted me.”

He untangles himself from his position - which is just using you as a third pillow - and peaks his head up, squinting his eyes at your phone in the dark.

Your mom, heinous bitch she is, sent you a text reminding you about all the things you need to do for your dinner with the Gojo’s tomorrow.

Wear a dress. Make sure it’s appropriate, but enough to keep a guy like Satoru interested. You don’t want your husband running off just because you’re boring him.

Make sure to wear the wedding ring Satoru gave you, not the engagement. You’re going to look tacky otherwise.

Fresh flowers, that haven’t bloomed yet. Don’t embarrass me by bringing flowers that’ll die in a day.

And please don’t leave your hair fully down. It washes you out.

Satoru glares at the camera, looking up at your face. He finds it hard to read you in situations like this. Because in all honesty, he knows that you hate your parents. But he doesn’t miss the way you act differently when it comes to them.

Because when you’re mad at Satoru for not picking up Tsumiki on time or at Megumi for not telling you he had a project due tomorrow until nine pm, you get a reasonable amount of mad. Pink in the cheeks, a little bit of scolding, followed by fixing the problem and talking it out.

But with them you, you don’t really talk about it. And he’s not sure if it’s because he’s not privy to the conversations that you have with them, but for some reason, he thinks there aren’t any. And that you just take it, when it’s them.

Which he understands. Too well. That’s part of the reason he’s with you, in this bed right now. Cuddled up in your arms, pressing lazy kisses around your shoulder.

Because his parents asked you to marry him. Because you told him you didn’t mind if he kept his own life outside of it, that you were just doing what you had to do.

And now that he…loves you, parts of it all make him sad. That you’d take someone telling you what to do - telling you that you don’t look good with your hair down when you look good all the time and that you’re tacky or boring or-

“Hey. Y/N.”

“Hm, Satoru?”

“You know I…love you right? For real?”

“Yeah. You told me.”

“But like, for real, okay? Not just because we’re…married or whatever. I actually really, really love you. You’re very pretty and you’re always so good with Megumi and Tsumiki and you’re so good at your job and-”

You stop him in his tracks by cupping his face in his ands, quirking your head to the side. You lean down and peck at his lips, pressing your fingers into his dimples.

“I love you too, Satoru but what’s this about?”

He frowns, placing his head back in your lap as you start running your hands through his white locks of hair, soft to the touch. You can feel his cheeks are warm from his face lying against your bare legs and you can’t help but smile at the fact that he’s blushing. Even after one year of marriage (and eight months of real marriage), he’s still nervous around you.

“I don’t know. Your mom’s just stupid. You’re not boring or tacky and you look very pretty with your hair down.”

“Thank you, Toru. For getting so offended on my behalf. But I don’t care, let’s go to bed, yeah?”

He nods, shuffling the sheets around you as he sprawls across the bed. One thing about Satoru, he has to touch you when he’s sleeping.

Not in the…dirty way. It could be the coldest night of the year and he has his entire body weight on you, treating you like a stuffed animal he was sleeping with. Or it’s the hottest night of the year and he’s as far away as he can be from you - just placing his hand on your forearm or tangling one of his legs with yours.

Touchy. Even when he’s asleep.

After not even five minutes of sleep, you feel a tapping on your nose, your features crinkling up from the sensation.

“Toru. Quit tickling me.”

He murmurs back incoherently, tangling around in the sheets as a response. Right. Satoru also sleeps like the walking dead. And he can and will sleep anywhere and everywhere, almost instantly. It’s actually a talent.

“Um. That wasn’t him.”

You flutter your eyes open to find Megumi, standing awkwardly at your side. You immediately sit up, clicking on the light as Satoru starts groaning behind you, smacking his hand on the bed to get you to turn the light off. You look over at the clock and realize it’s well past three, meaning Megumi should have been asleep hours ago.

“Megs. You okay?”

“Uh, yeah. But Tsumiki, she’s like crying a lot. Usually, what I do works but she just won’t stop.”

You shake Satoru at your side, his eyes finally fluttering open as he looks at you and Megumi in confusion.

“Megumi-chan. You better be interrupting our sleep for something good.”

“Satoru, stop it. Go get Tsumiki. Now. I think she’s crying.”

Satoru immediately stands up, stalking out of the room as you turn back to Megumi, taking his tiny hands in yours. He looks like he usually does - blank expression on his face, avoiding eye contact, tiredness on his face.

You wrap one of your hands around his cheek and squeeze, feeling his skin warm under your touch.

“What do you think happened, Megs?”

“She had a bad dream. Usually, we kind of just stay with each other till it stops. But, it didn’t really work.”

“Have you had them while you were here? Or her?”

“Yeah sometimes.”

You can feel your heart clench in your chest and you immediately wrap Megumi in your arms, brushing your hands through his soft, black hair. You can still smell the shampoo in his hair from earlier, the fresh smell springing into your nose. They should be coming to you. Not each other. Megumi’s only five. And she’s just seven.

“Megumi. You know you can come to us about that stuff. Both of you. And you should be because we know how to help you and-”

You stop talking as Satoru walks into the room, craning your head to the side to survey the situation. Satoru’s carrying Tsumiki in his arms, something he doesn’t do very often, and you can hear her soft sniffles as he places her on the bed between you, rubbing circles into her back.

You take the cup of water on the nightstand (that Satoru leaves out for you everyday so you can stay hydrated) and hand it to her, directing her to calm her breaths. She’s shaking so hard and her eyes are so pink that she can barely hold the glass, Satoru taking it from her hands and tilting her head up so she can drink it.

You look over at Megumi, his eyes twitching as he looks at Tsumiki, and you direct him to sit on the bed next to you, right next to Tsumiki and in between you and Satoru.

You never really know what to do in situations like this. And neither does Satoru. I mean hell, you’re only twenty-three and Satoru’s only twenty-four. And they haven’t been your kids for too long.

Other parents, the ones who come into your practice, talk about how they know somethings wrong. They can feel it in their gut. Their parental instinct. But you don’t have any of that, especially not with Tsumiki and Megumi.

And you know it’s not something you can learn and something that just comes from being their parents, but you sincerely wish it was. Because Tsumiki and Megumi deserve to have someone who can read them like that, who knows what’s wrong with them, and talks for them when they don’t know how. And-

Satoru opens up his arms, with Tsumiki crawls into his lap and curls herself up against his chest. She looks so small, barely covering his entire frame as she hiccups into his chest, pushing the back of her hand against his eyes.

Satoru beckons Megumi to join her and he awkwardly crawls up, the two of them nestled in Satoru’s arms. Maybe you spoke too soon. Because it always seems like Satoru knows what he’s doing.

“You too, goofy.”

You roll your eyes as you scoot closer to them, laying your head against Satoru’s shoulders as you start running your hands through Tsumiki’s hair, rubbing soft circles into the small of her back like Satoru was earlier.

“Hi Miki.”

“H-hi Y/N.”

“How you feeling, sweet girl?”

“O-okay.”

You soften your hands in her hair, focusing on braiding the ends as you talk, the three of them hanging on to every word you say.

“Miki, Megs. I know you’ve…been together for a long time. Before me and Satoru came around. And I’m sure you have your own ways of…being there for each other. But, you can let us be there for you too, you know?”

You feel Tsumiki stiffen under your touch and you pull back, holding the braid in place on your head.

“I don’t mean to let each other go. You’re siblings and that’s one of the most important relationships you can have. But just know, Satoru and I can be smart sometimes. Well, I can. I don’t really know about him.”

“Hey.”

Tsumiki and Megumi laugh, which stops Satoru’s protests all together. It’s working. And Satoru’s jealous of you, because as always, you know the right thing to say. To get them to smile again, tell you what’s wrong. And sure, you’ve always had that effect on Satoru but he loves that you can do it with them too. You’ve clearly got this parenting thing more figured out than him, he thinks.

“But, we can help you too, you know? I’m a big girl. I can deal with whatever you give me.”

Tsumiki turns to the side, crawling out of Satoru’s lap as she crawls into yours, squeezing herself in your arms.

“Th-thanks, Y/N. But maybe not right now?”

“Whenever you want, okay? Let’s just go to bed now, it’s late.”

“Can I sleep with you, Y/N? And Satoru?”

Satoru leans forward, squeezing Tsumiki’s hand in hers as he nods, opening up the covers for her. Megumi awkwardly looks between you and Satoru and you catch on fast, signaling for him to join you under the covers as well. The four of you are squished together, Tsumiki clinging on to you and Megumi clinging on to Satoru.

They both fall asleep fast and you give a weary look to Satoru in the dark, which he returns with a smile.

You hate leaving at a time like this. And you hate your parents and even Gojo’s parents for making you come to a stupid dinner like this.

Your kids, that they don’t know about, need you. You had tried your best to make Tsumiki comfortable, making her a stack of warm, strawberry pancakes and letting her pick what you guys ate for lunch.

And when you had to leave her with Nanami and Shoko to go see the Gojo’s, you swear you could feel your heart clench at the thought of leaving her. And Megumi. And of the two of them being uncomfortable without you there.

You could tell from the look in Satoru’s eyes that he shared your sentiments, his gaze weary as he said goodbye, lingering by the door until you two really had to leave. And then you both made your trek to the Gojo Estate.

And god do you hate it here. In all but ten minutes of dinner, your mother, assfucking clown she was, had already found ten different things to pick on.

Your hair has split ends, you should cut it.

You should slow down on the food.

You could have worn a more flattering color.

Every spiky comment she makes, Satoru squeezes his hand in yours under the table, grounding you in the moment. If it wasn’t for him and the soft looks he was giving you every few minutes, you’re sure you would have broken the centerpiece in the middle of the table by now.

“Say, Y/N, Satoru.”

You look up to find Mr. Gojo beaming at you, the smile not meeting his eyes. You can feel Satoru’s hand tense in yours under the table and you know it’s your turn to protect him from his dad.

“Did you start trying for kids?”

“Dad.”

“What, Satoru? It’s an important question. You guys have been married for a year now and surely there’s no better time than now to start trying.”

You can feel your mouth dry at the thought. Kids. Kids of your own. Like, a crying, pooping baby - half parts you and half parts Satoru.

How in the world could they think you were ready for that? Because in all honesty, Satoru’s your husband in name but he feels like your boyfriend.

You’ve been together for eight months. You haven’t gone on a vacation together or met his college best friend and you don’t know what his favorite smoothie flavor is or what the first car he drove was and they want you to start popping out kids?

You and Satoru aren’t ready for kids. And really, you already have two kids. That need you right now. And you have all the time in the world to have more and you really, really just like things the way they are. For now, and-

“They’ll get working on it.”

You feel your eyes boggle out of your head as you crane your neck to look at your mom, a self-assured smile placed on her face. She can’t really be serious, can she?

“Oh, how sweet! A grandchild. Oh, I do hope it’s a boy. So we can pass on the Gojo name and all.”

It’s Satoru’s turn to glare at his mother and you’re sure that he has the same bitter taste in his mouth as you. Sure, they were the reason you guys got married but they had no right to treat you guys like this. Like you were put together to make some offspring for them to fawn over.

“Although, I wouldn’t mind a girl. Boys can be rowdy and insensitive.” says Mr. Gojo, a matter-of-fact tone in his words.

“That’s not true. Boys can be sensitive too. You just have to raise them right.” you respond, muttering the words under your breath.

Megumi’s sweet and sensitive. He always avoids stomping on flowers growing out of the cracks of the cement and he always writes cards for his teachers on holiday’s and always says please and thank you after every little thing you and Satoru do for him, even if it is under his breath.

“Well, I hope it’s a boy. Girls come with attitude.” your dad responds, the implication in his tone clear.

“No daughter of ours would take back-handed comments like that.”

Because Tsumiki’s never done that. Because Satoru remembers the day someone tried to pick on her in her class and all she did was calmly respond. Stand her ground, surely but firmly. Something he’s sure that she learned from you. And to think someone could dismiss that off as attitude is so fucking-

You squeeze Satoru’s hand under the table, signaling him to stop. Because he’s being rude. Because he shouldn’t talk back to your father even if he’s wrong and-

“Satoru. Stop.” you whisper, awkwardly eyeing the four of them as he deflates.

The four of you awkwardly sit in silence, the forks clicking against the plates. Satoru’s crushing your hand into oblivion under the table and you can see that he’s agitated from the way his shoulders are all scrunched up. And when his dad talks next, he really can’t hold it in anymore.

“Satoru, son. All you have to do take her to bed one time to pass on the Gojo na-”

Satoru smacks his fist against the table, the glassware making a loud noise against the surface. You look over to find Satoru smoldering, the way he often did when he was near his dad.

“Don’t talk about my wife like that. She’s not some thing for you to use. You can try that shit on anyone else but you know damn well I’m not letting you do it to her.”

Mrs. Gojo’s features scrunch up in frustration, a pinched look on her face as she starts massaging the bridge of her nose. Satoru stands up, pulling you up with him as he stomps out, dragging you out with him.

You two drive in silence the entire way home. Satoru’s still smoldering in his drivers seat, jaw tight against his skin as he clenches his fists on the steering wheel, knuckles going white. And you’re unsure of what you can say to him to ease it, make him feel better.

He parks the car in the driveway, leaning his head against the seat to look up through the sunroof, the stars glittering in the sky above you. He makes no motions to get out of the car, the engine and lights still turned on despite the fact that you and Satoru were home.

“Y/N.”

“Hm, Satoru?”

“You-you okay?”

“What? Yeah. Are you?”

He doesn’t respond and instead loosens his tie, the fabric hanging from the sides of his collar.

“I just…hate them. So much. Why would we rush having a child when we aren’t ready? And who are they to talk about you like that? Like all I keep you around for is to bear my children.”

You’re not sure what to say so you snake your hand into his, leaning over the glove box to lean onto his shoulder. You can feel him deflate under you, leaning his head on top of yours as he presses his hand against your waist, his hands rubbing back and forth on the fabric.

“Satoru.”

“Yeah, love?”

“You feel like my boyfriend, right now. I know you’re my husband but…we’ve only been together for eight months. And I know it’s weird to say but…I’d like to have a kid with you someday just…not now.”

His hand comes up, angling your face up so you’re looking at him, a big smile spread across his face. You can feel your cheeks burning from the admission and you clench your eyes shut to avoid seeing the teasing look on Satoru’s face.

“Y/N. You’d want to have kids with me?”

You nod and Satoru’s face splits into a big smile, his hands shaking in yours.

“Well, yeah. It would be cute, when the time is right. Megumi and Tsumiki can have a little sibling and it’ll be like…a little us.

“A little us?”

“Your nose, my eyes, hopefully all of my looks and none of your annoyingness.”

“You’re so sweet, Y/N. I don’t know how I ever lucked out with such a charming girl like you.” he responds, sarcasm dripping from his voice. You laugh in response, beaming at him as you talk on.

“I love you, Satoru. And I’d love to have kids with you but we’re just…we already have two kids and I think they need us right now. They haven’t opened up yet and-”

“I know, sweet. I agree. Trust me, I’d love nothing more than putting a baby in your right here, right now in this car but-”

“Pervert.”

“Why are you so rude? Every word is like a bullet wound in my chest.”

You lean over, pressing a kiss to his chest as you lean back and glare at him. He smiles at you, a sweet look on his face.

“What was that for?”

“You said bullet wound in your chest. I was just kissing your ego better.”

He leans forward, cupping your face as he kisses you, hanging off the ends of your lips as he squeezes his face in your hands. He pulls apart, pressing kisses all over your face as he talks, his words making your cheeks burn.

“You’re so-”

Kiss.

“Damn cute.”

Kiss.

“I hate you sometimes.”

Kiss.

“When we have kids, I hope they’re all like you. Pretty eyes, soft hair, snarky attitude. She’ll be so easy to love, all goofy and idiotic like you.”

“She, Satoru?”

“Oh, she’s totally going to be a girl. My three girls. You, Tsumiki, and her.”

“Sounds like you have it all planned out already?”

“Well, I’m waiting. For when you’re ready and I’m ready and all that. But yeah. I’ve already seen how our entire life is going to play out. You and I are going to grow old together. Sick it to our parents. Have the type of love kids dream about. All that lovey-dovey stuff.”

You and Satoru, hands pressed together, pad into the dark of the house, slowly climbing up the stairs. When you amble into your bed room, you can hear soft snores in your bed - Tsumiki and Megumi fast asleep under your sheets. There’s a tiny little sticky-note pressed to the light switch, which you and Satoru both squint at.

They want to sleep with "their parents”. Their words, not ours. - Shoko

You and Satoru quickly peel out of your clothes and climb under the sheets - Satoru leaning over to press a kiss to all three of your heads before fluttering his own eyes shut.

And you hate to say it, because all in all the night wasn’t perfect, but you really, really don’t want to let it go. Every part of this night is…sparkling in your mind. Satoru defending you, telling you that he loves you, that he wants to have kids with you. You-

You count yourself lucky. That you don’t have to wonder if Satoru is in love with someone else or what he thinks about you or any other thing.

Because you know the person he’s waiting on is you.

the satoru as taylor swift songs series masterlist

taglist: @porridgesblog @platrom @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters

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tinyclowndancer · 3 months

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Update: cinnabon_matt posted the uncropped version of this clip on Twitter (ty <3), so I did a quick re-check because I missed it the first time. Turns out M3 uploaded it in their FB reels instead of the video section; sorry for sharing the cropped one before. I upscaled the clips to 720p, applied a slight enhancement, and combined them since I can't add two videos separately in the same post, but you can still check the original clips in the links. *** oh, HELLO?? Icymi, last year Monsters, Madness and Magic posted an interview with Matt, which I wanted to re-listen after finishing yesterday's interview with Ilkka. Accidentally, I came across this short and also found this story, so I'm sharing them here because I had no idea there was video footage for it and this man just keeps hiding himself for some reason making life difficult for us, porreties from the dark place.

"Oh, cool?!" now jump to 2022 when he shared his relief about the sequel because Alan is such an integral part of who he is, and thanking Sam/Remedy last month for giving him some of the most creative and artistic moments of his life. 🥺🖤

#this man right there not only leaked the release month but also joked about “Alan Wake - The Musical” I'm -#it was cute at the time but now we all know about Herald of Darkness I wanna slap him affectionately #Matthew Porretta #Alan Wake #Alan Wake 2 #video

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heich0e · 10 months

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yakuza!suna/escort!reader part 4: the prequel(ish) continued..., tw alcohol, reader goes by a stated pseudonym for her work (Yua) but is otherwise unnamed, this part immediately follows PART 3 and here are PART 1 + PART 2 icymi!! series masterlist

“You.”

The sound of the man’s voice—low, smooth, and unmistakably pointed—makes you freeze.

The room goes terribly quiet in the wake, like no one is quite sure how to respond.

Kaito’s eyes snap towards you, a flash of something close to panic momentarily slipping through the facade of his gregariousness. He composes himself quickly and looks back to this new guest, his brows lifted in surprise as his eyes narrow into crescents thanks to how his mouth lifts in an easy smile. “Who, sir?”

“Her.”

All eyes in the lounge turn to you, but somehow you only manage to meet one pair.

Your grip on the champagne flute in your grasp is so tight you worry that the thin stem might snap between your fingers.

Kaito laughs a bit, but the sound is stiff and doesn’t fit his usual tone. He reaches up and places a friendly hand on the man beside him’s shoulder. “Why don’t you take a while to acquaint yourself with the girls, then you can—“

The man—Suna-san as he’d been introduced to you all just a few moments before—turns his face to look at him. You watch as his eyes flicker down to the hand resting on his arm with a look of disdain.

“Is there a reason you’d question my choice?” he asks flatly, a chill in his tone that makes your stomach feel uneasy. “I was told these girls are your best.”

“Of course,” Kaito assures him with an easy, obliging smile. You can’t help but notice how he quickly drops his hand. “You’ve made an excellent decision.”

The other girls and Kaito quietly leave, once the manager waves them out following a terse snap of his fingers. There’s a sense of disappointment that you detect from some of the girls as they bid the guest goodnight as they step past him, having scarcely had the opportunity to spend time in his company at all. Yuki meets your eyes as she glides past you towards the door, a curious—if not concerned—look passing between the two of you.

The door to the lounge closes behind Kaito once the last girl has filed out, and then it’s just the two of you.

You watch as Suna walks to the chair on the opposite side of the room, directly across from you, sticking close to the very edge of the wall and giving you a rather wide berth. It’s strange. Most men in these situations make their way right for you, or at least beckon you to come to them— especially ones as forthright as he’d been. Instead, he gestures for you to take your seat, nodding towards the chair you’re still standing beside. In spite of your relative confusion, you oblige him. On the other side of the room he does the same, slumping down into his seat with his legs spread wide.

You sit at the edge of the upholstered chair with your hands crossed primly atop your lap.

He watches you for a while, and under his heavy stare you find yourself resisting the urge to fidget.

“What’s your name?” he asks you after a while.

You blink slowly, as though you’re processing the question he’s asked—though it’s anything but a difficult one.

“Yua.”

It’s not your name, of course. You’re sure he knows that too. It’s not even one that you’d chosen for yourself, in truth. There had been a girl working at the club before you started who’d used it as her pseudonym, and when she left and you arrived to take her place, it was easier just to inherit it than come up with a name of your own.

The kanji used spell out binding love.

The irony isn’t lost on you.

It doesn’t seem to be something Suna-san misses either, because there’s a little pull at the corner of his mouth that indicates a sort of wry recognition of the fact.

It goes quiet again.

You being to worry things are getting awkward. You can’t let that happen.

“Would you like something to drink?” you finally ask him, shooting him a warm smile before looking towards the mini bar.

His eyes flitter to the empty glass in your hand. “What are you drinking?”

“Champagne.” You stand and approach the bar, running your finger along the bucket where the half-empty bottle sits in ice. “But there’s plenty to choose from, no matter your taste.”

“What do you like to drink?” It’s the same question as before, more or less, but this time he poses it differently.

You glance at him over your shoulder, and find he’s watching you intently—still torpidly reclined back in his seat.

“I’m not very picky,” you answer with a little laugh. You reach for a bottle of whiskey off the bar. It’s a nice one. Expensive. You hold it up so he can see it, turning around to face him. “Would you like a highball?”

He cocks a brow. “Will you join me?”

“Of course,” you agree with a smile, and then you set to work.

Highballs are easy cocktails to make. Calling it a cocktail seems undeserved, sometimes, but the quality is in the ritual.

First the ice goes in, and you stir it for 30 seconds using a long barspoon to chill the polished glass. The ice clinks against the edge in a delicate little noise as you go.

The room is weirdly quiet. Unnaturally so.

The private lounges are mostly soundproof, for many reasons, but it means that none of the usual thrum of activity or music from the rest of the club seeps into the little space you occupy. It leaves a stagnant, almost uncomfortable silence stretching in between you while you work.

You drain the water from the bottom of the glasses carefully.

Next you add the whiskey.

You’re partial to a stronger highball—somewhere closer to a 2:1 ratio of soda to spirit, but you know not everyone enjoys their drinks so potent. You opt instead for a 3:1 ratio for the evening, letting the whiskey spill down into the waiting glasses below. You stir it precisely 13 and a half times clockwise in each glass.

Last is the soda, which you allow to trickle down the rivulets of the bar spoon so it doesn’t lose its effervescence. Each drink is then garnished with a delicate twist of lemon.

You swallow, steeling your nerve before you turn to face your patron once more.

“Would you like to listen to music?” you ask cheerfully as you bring his drink towards him.

There’s a sound system throughout the room controlled by a tablet, you’re trained to make the offer just as you had been to prepare the drinks.

“Not really,” he replies from below you once you arrive next to his chair. He reaches up to take the glass you offer him from your hand, and your fingers brush as the drink passes from your grip into his own.

His touch is warm.

Most men would pull you down into their lap at this point in the exchange, or otherwise grope you in some way, but save for that gentle pass of his fingertips along your own, he doesn’t make any attempt to touch you.

You perch on the couch beside him, a little bit perplexed.

This man is not what you’d expected.

He’s young, handsome, and above all strange.

Especially how he watches you—his gaze heavy-lidded but surprisingly impassive. You’re fully dressed but the way he watches you makes you feel terribly bare.

He lifts the drink to his mouth and takes a sip.

“Is it to your liking?” you ask him coyly.

He nods.

Since he’s taken his first sip, you’re now free to do the same. This drink is far sharper and stronger than the watered-down champagne you’d been sipping earlier. You savour how the heat of the whiskey sears its way down to your stomach. Part of you is relieved to finally have a proper drink in your hands.

Beside you, Suna sighs. He leans forward and sets his glass on the low table in front of him, and you watch as a bead of condensation drips down the edge of the polished glass.

Your eyes flicker over to him curiously. He meets your gaze.

“I’m not much of a drinker,” he admits with a little shrug.

“If you don’t drink and you don’t like music,”—you prop your elbow up on the armrest of his chair and rest your cheek in your hand, batting your eyelashes demurely—“this seems like a strange place you’d choose to spend an evening.”

Suna’s eyes flicker down to your lips, and he leans towards you.

“I don’t think anyone is coming here for the atmosphere.”

There’s a flutter in the pit of your stomach that erupts in the same place the whiskey had just warmed. For a few petrifying moments, only the span of a few heartbeats, you wonder if he’s going to kiss you.

As a general rule, you prefer not to kiss newcomers. It might seem an arbitrary place to draw the line, but some forms of intimacy just feel unnatural with a stranger, even in your line of work. Some of your regulars don’t even get to do that.

For a confusing, startling moment, you can’t help but think you’ll let him if he tries.

But he doesn’t.

Instead he leans back in his seat once more, his long legs still spread before him.

“It wasn’t my choice, anyway,” he says.

You make a little sound of confusion from the back of your throat, quenching your sudden thirst with another long sip of your drink. You’re not quite sure what he means.

“Coming here tonight,” he explains, sensing your uncertainty. “I just got into a bit of a… scrape at work. My boss sent me to blow off some steam.”

He wouldn’t be the first man who used this place as a means of stress relief. Though you wonder who his boss might be to have had Kaito scrambling the way he was.

“I see,” you reply quietly. Slowly, you reach forward and set your glass atop the table next to his own, the difference in how much you’ve each consumed more stark when your glasses rest side by side. You pull yourself upright again, and turn to face him with your lip caught gently between your teeth. You let it slip out to quietly murmur, “I’m happy to help with that, if you’d like.”

Suna’s head tips back against his seat as his eyes close, and he lets out a breathy little laugh towards the ceiling.

Just above the neckline of his high-necked sweater, along the column of his pale throat, you see the faintest edge of a mark.

A tattoo.

Without thinking, you reach out for it. Just before your fingertip can touch the enticing tendril of ink, his hand catches yours in a tight grip.

You jump slightly at the unexpected contact, and your eyes flash up to his face, only to find that he’s watching you again—more alert now than you’ve seen him since he arrived.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize meekly, your entire face suddenly feeling hot. You're not sure what possibly possessed you to think touching him like that was okay.

He’s still clutching your hand, but after a moment his grip eases—his touch slipping down to your wrist. His long fingers circle it easily, and something about the sight makes you feel strangely small. Breakable even.

His hold is different now, gentler. More delicate.

Slowly, he takes your hand and guides it to his cheek.

“Your hands are cold,” he remarks as his eyes slowly close again, and you realize the chill of your touch must feel nice against his injury. His cheek is radiating heat as he holds your hand to it.

You cup your hand to cradle his face in your palm, but he still holds fast to your wrist.

“It’s from making the drinks,” you reply quietly to his comment, your thumb reaching out and ghosting over the cut on his mouth without thinking. Other than the wound, his lips are incredibly soft under the pad of your finger.

He hums, leaning into your touch. After a few moments his eyes flutter open and meet yours, but they’re heavy lidded again. His gaze hazier now. More disarming, somehow. Your thumb is still pressed to the swell of his bottom lip.

“You’re good at this,” he whispers softly, like you’re not supposed to hear it at all, and you’re confused by what he means. He tilts his face and presses his lips to the heel of your palm in a hot, open-mouthed kiss. Next his lips slide down to your wrist, mouthing at you there too.

“Pardon?” when you finally manage to speak, you find your voice is fluttery and unlike yourself.

“I really had no intention of fucking you,” he murmurs into your skin. “You just looked so miserable when I walked in that I thought it might be fun to bother you a little bit.”

Your heart is suddenly hammering in your chest, and you wonder if he can tell as his tongue sweeps out against your pulse point.

He smirks against your skin, his unfairly long eyelashes fluttering as he peeks over at you once more—his stare is just as electrifying as it had been the first time he turned it on you.

“I underestimated you,” he says, and his words sound like commendation.

Your head tilts to the side, not quite knowing what he means, but your confusion only heightens as Suna takes your hand and guides it to his throat. He holds it there the same way he holds you in his gaze—firm and unwavering.

“I didn't think you’d be so good at seducing me.”

#suna x reader #suna rintarou x reader #yakuza!suna #hq drabble #hq writing #writing

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jennifer-jeong · 2 months

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NAVIGATION <3 REQUEST STATUS + ABOUT ME + RULES + MASTERLISTS + TAGS

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Thank you for your requests, comments, reblogs, etc. they're so sweet ): I'm glad you guys like my writing enough to interact 🥰❤️ Also thank you for 300+ followers!!! I never expected to garner any sort of following so thank you! I hope I can continue to put out content that you guys enjoy

ABOUT ME

Hi there! Thanks for stopping by! I write silly fanfictions sometimes when I'm procrastinating. I only joined Tumblr recently as a writer and it's honestly been so much fun especially because of all of you! I also post my fics on AO3 but I'm more active here!

I will eventually link to a post listing all my interests that you can request fics from or just learn more about me LOL

RULES

Likes, reblogs, and any interactions are always appreciated!

Requests are open! Send in anything for headcanons, drabbles, SFW, NSFW, etc.

I try to fill requests as quickly as my ideas flow and sometimes that'll be less than a week and sometimes it will be more. I want to put out quality content so please be patient with me!

Feel free to ask me anything other than requests! You can talk to me about fics, fandoms, being mutuals, or even just about life!

My fics will usually be gender neutral unless stated otherwise! (ex. AFAB/AMAB!Reader or F/M!Reader)

For names, I'll refer to the original language it's written in to decide if last or first name comes first.

I write both SFW and NSFW/18+ content and all characters I write about are 18+.

I put content warnings on all my fics, please refer to them before reading.

Please be respectful and have a great day!

MASTERLISTS

GENSHIN IMPACT

JUJUTSU KAISEN

LOVE AND DEEPSPACE

TAGS

Reblogs/Random Shit = #my favourites <3 Self Reblog = #icymi <3 Asks = #my asks <3 Fics = #j's silly ramblings

#masterlist #my favourites <3 #my asks <3 #j's silly ramblings

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jobesbabe · 9 days

Text

Pretty Boy / Marc Guiu insta au

a/n- hi! lmk if you like this! just thought of making another insta au since theyre fun and all!

marcguiu9

liked by youruser, paucubarsi and 912,845 others

marcguiu9 vacation before back to work

view all 487 comments

youruser summer vibezzz

liked by author

lamineyamal hermano!!

paucubarsi ☀️☀️☀️

fcbarcelona

liked by marcguiu9, youruser and 1,163,082 others

fcbarcelona 🌟🌟 BOY

view all 1,729 comments

pumafootball 🫀🫀🫀

youruser he’s such a pretty boy ugh.

liked by marcguiu9

replied

marcguiufanpage ayo why i always see this girl’s comments liked by marc

lamineyamal such a baller

youruser

liked by marcguiu9, hctorfortt_ and 6,724 others

youruser 🥥🐠🪸🐚

view all 25 comments

marcguiu9 who took pic 3??

mikkykiemeney livin the life i see

yourbff WHO IS IN PIC TWO?? WE NEED A DEBRIEF

barcafan126 i feel like marc and her are definitely in a secret relationship… why is he liking the comments and the posts? this could defo be the back of his head…

replied

barcelonababy or maybe he’s just friends with her??

marcguiu9

liked by youruser, paucubarsi and 372,361 others

marcguiu9 vacation pt2.

view all 257 comments

paucubarsi the tan goes crazy

marcguiufann6 him and y/n posting from the same beach…

barcabebe y/n and marc are dating no??

yourbff marc are you dating my bff?

youruser

liked by marcguiu9, lamineyamal and 47,615 others

youruser this is my boyfriend, i call him marc.

view all 245 comments

marcguiu9 this is my gf i call her y/n 😝

lamineyamal marc & y/n sitting in a tree

mikkykiemeney wag life 🤍🤍

barcabebe i KNEW it

marcguiu9

liked by youruser, frenkiedejong and 325,721 others

marcguiu9 barcelona with my bae

view all 572 comments

youruser #38 is hot tbh

lamineyamal big player, big game

ilovebarcelolona i love them two together tbh

barcelonaupdatezz

liked by barcababe, youruser and 418 others

barcelonaupdatezz marc guiu has gone BLONDE icymi!!

view all 31 comments

youruser ik im OBSESSED!

replied barcelonaupdatezz we’re with you girll!!

a/n- thats all!! thanks for reading loves! i hope this was good lol. repost if you like it xx

#footballer imagine #football #footballer x reader #marc guiu #fc barcelona #la masia #insta au #instagram au

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parkerlyn · 10 months

Text

July 2023

Play The Nameless | Patreon | Discord

Hi all!

This is mainly a so-help-me-we-are-gonna-get-back-on-track-and-continue-this-story update. I've been able to map out the rest of Chapter 4 more concretely and broken things down to help my lizard brain parse things out and not feel so overwhelmed by it all. Yay for self improvements! 🤞

I won't lie, it didn't help that with my (lack of) version control and writing in multiple apps, I ended up losing about...5k of the Magesmith's Ch 4 path which was a real kick in the teeth. But I'm feeling better now (and have transitioned through all the stages of grief lmao), and I'm ready to push forward.

So yeah!!! Friendly reminder!! Take this as a sign!!! Make sure you're keeping track of where you write and maintain version control with backups!!

So with that said, I've been slowly working my way back into writing after hiatus and trying to dust off those skills with revisiting the Sage POV for when you first meet them. Currently it's a 3k Patreon special, and that will post later this month on July 19!

I'll also be changing up my approach to bonus art on Patreon, with one large piece of artwork each month and opening ideas for that through the High Sheevra and Sanctin tiers, with voting including the Sheevra tier once I have a couple suggestions. This month will be the completed "Game Night" special with the Healer, Magesmith, Eila, and the Alchemist, and I'm open for any suggestions for the future! More information on that here soon. I'll also try to be less embarrassed about messy sketches so you can expect more of that on Patreon too, with some art eventually posted here on tumblr.

For bonus Patreon writing, I'll slowly be working through the first meeting POVs for each RO before polling for ideas again.

July Patreon Schedule

July 5 - Progress Update | Call for August Art ideas (HS + Sa)

July 12 - Monthly Preview Screenshot

July 19 - Bonus Writing: Sage POV, meeting the MC for the first time

July 26 - Bonus Art: Game Night | 18+ Art: Sage Sketches

ICYMI

Art: Not gone but resting featuring an RO cuddle pile.

Donation Screenshots

Lastly, accountability screenshots for my donations are below. Differing amounts are to cover individual processing fees. For the donations at the beginning of June the amounts differ from earnings since I was on hiatus and very offline for April/May, so I decided in honor of Pride Month to give $100 to each organization.

Thank you again for all your support and stay safe out there <3

xoxo Parker 🧡

Play The Nameless | Patreon | Discord

#interactive fiction #progress update #the nameless #tnif

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underthenightskydreamsneverdie · 1 year

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A Snack by the Lake, Part 3

Summary: Sebastian and MC have a nice ending to their picnic

Pairings: Sebastian and f!MC

Warnings: 18+, public sex, unprotected sex

Word count: 684

A/N: Huge thanks to @pugsnotdrugs92 for inspiring this entire thing. It was a joy to write and a greater joy to share. Part one and two ICYMI

------------------------------------------------

“Fuck, Princess if I had known this is what you had in mind when you suggested this picnic, I wouldn’t have told Ominis ab - oh fuck.” His words were cut off as she sunk down on him, her walls squeezing him the whole way down before she relaxed in his lap.

“You told him? You better hope he doesn’t come looking for us.”

“If he does, I'm not stopping.” He had already begun slowly thrusting into her, the soft flesh of her ass just barely lifting from his body. Pressing on his legs she propped herself up, giving him room to thrust harder, faster, his hands gripping hard at her waist, holding her up.

Sebastian kept up his quickened pace, dipping his head to rest on her shoulder, groaning against the skin of her neck, running his tongue along the shell of her ear. Her loud moans, her nails digging into his thighs, and the heavenly view of his cock disappearing into her were quickly pushing him closer to the precipice of his orgasm.

Lost in the pleasure Sebastian was giving her, her mind barely registered the sight of a blonde form making its way to them, the green of his robes shining in the sun, followed by a small group of figures distinguishable only by the peeks of the other houses' colors as their robes blew in the slight breeze.

“Fuck, Sebastian, they’ve found us.”

He froze for a few seconds, his head lifting off her neck, looking in the same direction as her.

“Sebastian, keep going. They’re far enough away, I know you’re close, baby, I need you to cum inside me.”

It didn’t take much, the idea of being caught by them and her pleading sending him over the edge in less than a minute. His teeth clenched in an attempt to muffle his deep guttural groans as he spilled his load inside her, his hips never ceasing their movement.

Sebastian didn’t bother to look over to see how close their friends were now, the pace of his thrust increasing. He knew they were getting very close, but so was she, her uncontrollable moans getting louder by the second.

“Listen to you, Princess, moaning so beautifully for me. You don’t even care if they catch us, do you? Come on baby, be my good little slut, cum on my cock in front of all our friends.”

It was a demand that she happily obeyed, his name slipping from her lips as he slammed himself into her. Whimpering as her orgasm began, her eyes rolling back, Sebastian quickly threw his hand over her mouth, knowing the whole fucking castle would hear her screams if he didn’t.

He fucked her through wave after wave, cooing in her ear as he did. “Good girl, such a good slut for me.” As she fell back against him in a boneless heap he spoke again.

“I know you’re tired but they’re getting too close, Princess. If I don’t pull out of you now I won’t get the chance, and then I really will have to fuck you again, right in front of them. You’re not ready for that are you, love? Me neither. No one else gets to know what a good girl you are for me.” He lifted her up, slipping out of her, setting her down in the grass between his legs, using the pleats of her skirt to cover his lap as he hastily tucked himself back into his pants. Around the tree, their friends settled down in the grass, absorbed in their conversations. Sebastian leaned forward, curling his body over MCs, wrapping her in his arms, pressing soft kisses to her face.

“I love you, Princess.”

She felt a breeze across her legs and realized she hadn’t had time to fix her panties before their friends had arrived, feeling Sebastians seed dripping out of her, pooling in the grass underneath her as he whispered to her. Blushing hard, adjusting her skirt to cover herself a little more, she whispered back.

“I love you too, Sebby. I’m glad we had this picnic today.”

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow smut #sebastian x mc #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian x reader #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts smut #hogwarts legacy smut #hogwarts legacy sebastian #hogwarts legacy oneshot #sebastian sallow oneshot #sebastian sallow fanfic

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sissylittlefeather · 6 months

Text

This is the Story

Chapter 8

(Finally)

A/N: WHEW this was a tough one. Idk if it was the moon or what, but damn I had some writer's block. Special thanks to @ccab and @elvisfatass for helping shake me out of it. I had a bit of a writing hangover after the joy of Chapter 7. I hope you all enjoy this one!

ICYMI: This is the series with 1973 Elvis and the OC Grace Dubois, author and single mom of 6yo Wendy. Want to catch up? Here are the links:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Warnings: 18+ MDNI SMUT, kissing, cussing, p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie

Word count: 3.1k

In between each kiss, he whispers.

"I love you."

******

When morning comes, the sunlight streams in through the hotel window and across the bed, waking Grace. For a second, she forgets where she is, but she relaxes when she feels Elvis wrapped around her. She rolls over to look at him. His face is almost angelic as he sleeps peacefully, breathing softly.

Last night felt like a miracle and she's not ready to lose the feeling of safety in their hotel room bubble. She knows once they step outside, everything becomes complicated, but right now, here, in the light of the morning, she's at peace knowing he loves her and she loves him. Nothing else matters.

She runs her fingertip across his brow and down his cheek to his jawline, tracing the shadow of his facial hair that appeared overnight. Finally, she leans in and kisses the end of his nose, which causes him to stir a little. He reaches out and pulls her to him before he even opens his eyes. She's not sure she'll ever get used to the way her heart skips a beat when he touches her.

When he opens his eyes, a smile spreads across his face.

"Good morning, honey."

"Hi. How'd you sleep?"

"Better than I have in a long time. You?"

"I'm a whole new woman." She stretches and he presses his hips into her, revealing his normal morning erection. "Oh, hello soldier!" She laughs, but then he pulls her into a kiss and she feels her arousal begin to form.

He kisses and nuzzles her neck and then moves down her chest. She hadn't intended to sleep naked, but the feeling of his skin on hers was too good to interrupt with clothing, so he has easy access to her breasts. He moans quietly as he drags his tongue in a circle around her nipple, pinching the other one softly. She arches her back as he kisses back up her neck and then she puts her leg over his hip. He slept naked too, so it doesn't take much for him to line himself up and slide inside her.

"Fuck yes." She moans loudly as he slowly thrusts against her.

"You've got a dirty mouth, doll." He smiles as he continues to fuck her gently.

"You love me." She smiles back at him.

"God, I really do." He leans in and kisses her passionately, rolling his hips rhythmically against her as they continue to make love. After a few more minutes, he rolls her onto her back and keeps going.

"Goddamn, baby. You feel so good." He grunts and kisses her shoulder. She wraps her legs around him and he starts to move faster.

"Don't stop." She whispers in his ear, breathily. She feels herself approaching the edge too as he pushes into her over and over. His dick is perfect to hit all the right places inside her and she can't get enough. He leans in and kisses her again as he pumps in and out of her.

"I'm close, baby." She nods.

"Me too." He picks up the pace just a little more and a minute or two later they both tumble over the edge of oblivion together, moaning and cussing in turns, him shuddering and filling her with his release and her pulsing around him.

This time she says it first, pushing his hair back off of his forehead and holding his face in her hands.

"I love you." He smiles and kisses her softly.

"I love you too, honey." He rests his head on her chest as she runs her fingers through his hair and massages his scalp. They're both reluctant to admit that they need to get up and go back to real life.

He has an idea and pops his head up to look at her.

"Wanna take a shower?" A smile crawls across her face and she nods excitedly. He jumps up and they make their way to the bathroom together. He starts the shower and she steps in, laughing and wrapping her arms around him as he pulls the curtain shut. Reality can wait a little while longer.

******

When Grace and Elvis finally roll up to her mom's house to pick up Wendy, it's lunch time. She doesn't think too much of it as she knocks on the door. This time Maryann answers.

"Mhmmm. Get in here, lovebirds." Grace protests and Elvis simply raises his eyebrows.

"What? We're not...?"

"I'm messing with you, sis." But Maryann smirks knowingly. They walk into the house and Grace makes her way back to the kitchen. Elvis is caught in some kind of game with the kids where he has to pretend to be shot and play dead, which he does easily. As soon as they are out of earshot Maryann rounds on Grace.

"You slept with him!"

"Maryann! That is really none of your business!" Ruth chimes in. Then she looks at Grace expectantly. They seem to be waiting for some kind of confession from her.

"Okay! Yes! I slept with him!" Her mother shakes her head.

"Was he? I mean... there's rumors... was it...? Is he as good as they say?" Maryann dances around the question, but finally gets to it. Grace responds with a smile and a single word.

"Better."

Ruth rolls her eyes and Maryann claps excitedly.

"Good. It's about damn time you got with somebody decent. He's a huge improvement, as far as I can tell." Maryann looks Grace dead in the eye. "Please don't let the fact that he's Elvis Presley ruin your happiness with him."

Grace, who has been sparkly-eyed and giddy all morning gets a little serious in response.

"I won't."

Maryann reaches out and squeezes her arm with a knowing smile. Ruth pulls her into a hug.

"I'm just happy you're happy."

******

Once everyone is loaded into the car and ready to drive back to Memphis, Elvis almost leans over to kiss Grace, but he notices Wendy is watching. Before he does anything he turns to her.

"Wendy, I'd like to kiss your mama. Is that okay with you?" Wendy smiles.

"Yes, please, Daddy." He nods in response and Grace laughs. Then he leans in and gives her a quick but sensual kiss on the lips. Wendy does a silent happy dance.

"Home, then?" Elvis looks to Grace and she nods. Somehow, Memphis has become home. He puts the car in drive and they set off on the long journey east.

******

It's dark when they pull into the driveway of Graceland, night coming earlier under the November moon. Grace is exhausted from the long drive.

"Stay here tonight?" Elvis offers up a suggestion to keep her from driving home so tired. She nods and they all head inside.

When they get there, though, Colonel Parker is waiting in the foyer.

"Where have you been, Mr. Presley?" Elvis freezes when he hears the voice and Grace can tell he's nervous to answer.

"He came to my mom's house for Thanksgiving. Is that a problem?"

"It's only a problem, my dear, if anyone saw you." The Colonel is staring daggers at Elvis, who returns his icy glare.

"Colonel, go home. This isn't your business."

"My boy, you are my business. And I'm not sure you're taking care of it properly."

"We'll talk about it tomorrow." Elvis opens the door for the Colonel to leave.

Grace knew things would be complicated when they got back to Memphis, but she didn't expect so much trouble from the Colonel. He walks out the door and looks back at Elvis.

"You will see, my boy. You will see." Then he makes his way to the driveway and disappears.

"Ignore him, please." Elvis turns Grace to him and wraps his arms around her. He kisses her forehead and she leans into the comfort of him against her. After a few seconds, he lets her go and turns to Wendy.

"Would you like to sleep in Lisa's room?" She nods excitedly and bounces up the stairs. Once she's settled in there, he walks with Grace to his bedroom. They both change into pajamas and climb into the big bed together. Everything about this feels so natural that they don't even question anything. She snuggles into him and thinks about what Maryann said.

Yes, there are aspects of his life that might make their relationship complicated, but this part, them together in bed, is the easiest thing she's ever done.

"I love you, honey." He whispers in her ear as he nuzzles into her hair from behind. She pulls his arm tighter around her and whispers in return.

"I love you, Elvis." They fall asleep there together like they plan to do it every night for the rest of their lives.

******

"Mr. Ebert, this is Colonel Parker. I apologize for the late call."

"Please, call me Frank. What do you need?"

"I'd like to request a new ghost writer for Elvis Presley's book."

"Is he dissatisfied with Grace?"

"Quite the opposite. Please send a male author this time."

"I'm sorry, sir, she's done too much work already. Starting over with a new author would take time that you just don't have if you want the book finished next year."

"Have you looked into her expense account recently? I believe there are some charges you might find interesting."

"I'm not sure I know what you're talking about. But I'll look into it."

"Please do. And after you do, send a man to finish the book."

******

Grace and Wendy spend the rest of the weekend at Graceland. For the most part, they're a happy little family living a decently quiet life. Elvis answers calls and has a meeting or two, but he makes time for Grace and Wendy when he can. Sunday night, Frank calls.

"Grace, why aren't you home? Paulette said you were with Elvis?" She puts her hand on her forehead. This won't be easy to explain.

"Yes. I, well, we, he came home to Tulsa with me and we got back Friday and Wendy and I are... still here..."

"Grace. I specifically told you to keep your distance. What are you doing?!"

"It's not... I..."

"Grace, do you need to be reassigned? Because his manager is asking for a new author."

"No, Frank, please don't. I'm still writing the book. We're just... friends..."

"Go to your apartment, Grace. And send Paulette back on your own dime. The higher-ups have requested that I shut down your expense account because of suspicious use. I will bring you home if I need to."

"Suspicious use? I'm working! I need my nanny!"

"Your expense account does not cover a babysitter for date nights with Elvis Presley." Grace feels the tears burn in the corners of her eyes. They haven't even been on a date yet. "Shut it down, Grace."

"Yes, sir." Elvis notices the change in her demeanor from across the room where he sits with Wendy. She hangs up the phone and turns back to him with tears on her cheeks.

"What happened?"

"We have to go back to the apartment."

"Says who?"

"My editor. He says if I don't keep our relationship professional, he'll bring me home and send a different author. I just don't know how he knew..."

"The Colonel. Goddamn that man." Elvis stands up in a mild rage. "My personal life is none of his goddamn business."

He walks to Grace and cups her face in his hands. She looks up at him as the tears slide down and he wipes them with his thumbs.

"I'm not ready for this to be over."

"Over? Honey, this is nowhere near over." He wraps his arms around her.

"But Frank said-"

"I don't give a damn what Frank said."

"He's my boss. I have to give a damn." Elvis pulls back and looks at her.

"Quit your job. Just stay here with me." Her eyebrows knit together in the center of her forehead.

"I can't do that, Elvis. I need my job. I have to know I have a backup if you... well..."

"If I what?"

"Well, if you... move on..."

"Move on? Are you suggesting that I would be unfaithful?"

"Elvis. Let's be realistic here. The only reason you're so captivated by me is that I'm here and all your fans are not. When you get back to Vegas or on tour, I'll be the furthest thing from your mind."

"Grace, I'm in love with you. You think that means nothing to me?"

"I think you've been in love before." He steps back like she slapped him, a look of utter betrayal on his face.

"Is that really what you think of me?"

"That's what I think of any man in your shoes. It's not a commentary on your character."

"Oh, well as long as it's not a commentary on my character. That's a pretty shitty thing to think, Grace."

"Well, I've had some pretty shitty things happen to me before from people that I trusted."

"I'm not him."

"No, but you're you."

"What the hell does that mean?" He raises his voice with this statement and Grace becomes keenly aware of Wendy's presence.

"Maybe we should just go."

"Maybe you should." She turns away from him and stomps up the stairs to pack her and Wendy's things. He picks up the closest knick knack and intends to throw it when he realizes Wendy is still sitting and watching him. Instead, he slams it down and walks out of the room. Wendy sighs and shakes her head.

A few minutes later, Grace comes down the stairs, suitcases in hand, still fuming. Elvis stands at the kitchen counter for a bit trying to decide if he wants to see her before she leaves. He knows he does, but he's still pretty upset about what she said.

"We're leaving!" He slams his hands on the counter and walks out to the foyer.

"I'll see you tomorrow? To work on the book?" She asks quietly without looking up at him.

"Sure." He responds. She nods, crying silently. There it is again: the overwhelming need to comfort her, even though he's angry with her. But he doesn't give in. Instead, he opens the door for her as she and Wendy make their way to her car.

When she gets to the car door, she looks back up at the house, but he's already shut the front door. She doesn't see him on the other side leaning against it near tears himself.

******

On Monday, there's a noticeable chilly tension between Elvis and Grace as they go back to talking about the book. He's dying to wrap his arms around her and she's desperate to lay her head on his shoulder and cry, but they maintain a healthy distance. Neither of them are sure where their relationship stands at this point or if it's even a relationship anymore. Grace knows the things she said were hurtful. And she didn't mean to say them. She was just so scared of being hurt again. She knew she couldn't fully rely on any man, not just Elvis. And he knows she had a point. He didn't have the greatest track record. Why should she trust him?

As she's packing up to leave, though, he reaches out and touches her face. She's just about to apologize when the Colonel bursts through the door and slams a tabloid on the desk. On the front page is a picture of Elvis and Grace walking together out of the hotel in Tulsa. The headline reads, "Presley's New Mystery Love: Too Soon After Divorce?"

"What the fuck?" Elvis says it first, but it's exactly what Grace is thinking.

"I told you this was a risk. You did not listen. And now you will pay the price in the media." The Colonel speaks slowly and deliberately. "As soon as they know who she is, and they will, then neither of you will be safe from them. Is this what you had in mind, my boy?"

"Of course not. I didn't even know anyone took our picture. What do we do?" He looks to the Colonel frantically and Grace backs away with her hand over her mouth.

Wendy's father will see this and there is no telling how he will respond. He's tried to reach out to Grace over the years and she's managed to stay away from him by keeping hidden. He was not the kind of man she wanted in her daughter's life. In a way, she had considered it a blessing that he'd left when he did. Now he will know where to find her and it's only a matter of time before he shows up.

"Grace?" Elvis turns to her as she stands with her back against the door and her hand over her mouth.

"I can't be here. I have to go." She gathers her things and runs for her car.

"Grace!" Elvis yells after her, but she doesn't stop. He can tell something is wrong, but he's not sure what. This is about more than just her picture in the newspaper. He gets to her car just before she pulls out.

"Grace! Talk to me. What's going on?" She rolls the window down.

"It's Wendy's father. If he finds me..."

"Then stay here. I'll protect you."

"No! Don't you see? This is exactly where he will come. I can't be here."

"Grace, I have guards and gates and, hell, an arsenal of guns here. Please stay." She looks up at him through the window, her hands shaking on the steering wheel.

"Wendy?"

"I'll send a car for her and Paulette right now." She nods her head slowly and turns the car off. He helps her out of the car and back up to the house. As they walk, she pauses and looks up at him.

"Don't shoot him." She smiles weakly.

"I can't make any promises, doll." He chuckles lightly.

Once inside, he sends Jerry to get Wendy and Paulette. Grace calls and tells Paulette to pack up as much clothing as possible for the three of them. She'll send Paulette home on the first plane out of Memphis.

The Colonel is in shock. He didn't expect this to be the response to his announcement. He hoped this would separate them further, but it seems to have brought them back together. He sneaks out, wheels turning in his mind.

Several hours later, Wendy is settled at Graceland and Jerry takes Paulette to the airport.

"Mama, are we going to stay here with Daddy now?" Wendy asks as Grace holds her close on the couch in the TV room.

"Yes, baby. For a little while at least."

"Good. I like it here." Grace smiles and kisses Wendy on the hair.

Elvis stands in the doorway protectively, watching the scene in front of him. He hasn't forgotten the hurtful things she said, but it doesn't change the fact that he loves her, and Wendy too. He can put his own feelings aside to make sure nothing happens to them.

******

Until next time!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @ashtag6887 @aliypop @your-nanas-house @dkayfixates @everythingelvispresley @xanatenshi @returntopresley @p0lksaladannie @deniseinmn @jaqueline19997 @that-hotdog @mykievolturi @18lkpeters @joshuntildawn13 @rjmartin11 @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69

#elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley #elvis fanfic #elvis smut #elvis presley fic #elvis fanfiction #elvis fic #elvis presley smut #elvis presley fanfic #elvis x oc #elvis presley x oc #grace dubois #this is the story #Spotify

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ladylooch · 4 months

Text

The Spiral [Lio Meier] - Part 4

A/N: One more part after this! things are starting to turn around for our Lio 🤭

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: allergic reaction, lots of medical talk, angst, childhood trauma themes

ICYMI Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

The morning after his concussion, Lio thinks it would have been better to have been crushed by a garbage truck. His head hurts so bad, worse than any hangover headache or migraine he’s had in his life. But worse than that is the fog that has settled into his brain. Details of last night are fuzzy- the game, Lucie, their conversation. He thinks things are better, but is worried about facing her this morning.

He rolls over to his back, tentatively opening his eyes. The world doesn’t swirl like it had been last night. But he feels like the front of his forehead is going to explode off from the pressure. Is that normal? Fuck.

Slowly, Lio adjusts his position to sit up. The smell of something baking hits his nose. He smiles. Lucie is still here. It takes awhile before Lio can get out of bed, changed, and hit the bathroom. By the time he is done with that, he feels like he could go back to sleep. Instead, he drags himself towards the kitchen. Lucie is at the stove, a large stack of pancakes to her left. As he gets closer, he can see the rainbow sprinkles poking out of the cakes.

“Lucie pancakes.” He chuckles, approaching her.

“They still hit even as an adult.” She shrugs.

“Doesn’t Stell think these are her creation?”

“Yeah because of her dad.” Lucie rolls her eyes. “Connor thinks she created everything, even though I made these all the time when I was pregnant with her.”

“So he thinks because she was there, she made them?”

“He thinks she created the craving for me, so it’s from her.”

“Your mom could set that straight.”

“Mmm, I don’t think anyone can set that man straight about his sweet girl.” Lucie takes off two more pancakes. “Sit down and eat. You look awful.”

“Thanks.” Lio mumbles, resting his head delicately in his palm. He sets his elbow on the counter watching as Lucie slaps two pancakes on his plate. “Still hate syrup?”

“Yep.” Lio confirms, picking up his fork to cut into a pancake.

“I heard from Ben. He wanted you to check in when you got up.” Lio nods, grabbing his phone.

While he eats small bites, him and Ben talk about how Lio is feeling. Ben is concerned about the intensity of Lio’s headache. He wants him to go to the hospital for a CT scan.

“Can you send a car? Lucie needs to go home to her family.”

“No, I can take you.” She says, waving away his worries. “Con is taking Stell to the rink for practice. She is loving her mommy-free life right now.” Ben and Lio chat more. The team doctor is going to meet them at the hospital and they will know more after the imaging is processed.

Lucie and Lio finish breakfast, then head into Newark. Lucie waits while Lio is being scanned and afterwards while they wait for the radiologist to do a quick read. Everything looks good. Lio’s brain isn’t showing any damage, but he does have one hell of a concussion. The news is good. Lio feels like he can breathe and be more at peace with where he is at.

“You’re going to have to take it easy.” The doctor reminds him. “At least two weeks before you do any exercise.” Lio agrees. He can’t imagine getting on the ice right now with how shitty he feels.

“Is it okay if I drop you off and head out?” Lucie asks Lio when they are back in the car. “Connor is going to the Children’s Hospital to see some of his kiddos. I need to get home before he leaves again.”

“Yeah, I will be fine. Thank you for staying with me. And.. um tell Connor thanks too. I appreciate it. Know he isn’t my biggest fan.”

Lucie drops Lio in front of his building, then heads back towards her city. Lio’s doorman greets him warmly, opening the big door for him.

“Thanks, Charlie.”

“Tough one last night, Mr. Meier.”

“Hey, boys pulled out the win tho.” Lio waves as he walks through.

“Your mama is waiting for you in your apartment. She was mighty frazzled this morning.” Lio stops in his tracks. There are two people who have unlimited access to his apartment besides him. One just dropped him off. The other lives in Switzerland.

“Ah, thanks. Moms…” Lio trails off with a shrug.

Lio seriously contemplates sprinting out of his building. Doctor’s orders be damned. The only woman to ever love him unconditionally is upstairs and he is not ready to face her. Not ready to see her after the horrible things he said to her. Not ready to face his own shame and self-hatred. It’s why he left Switzerland without seeing her even after telling his dad he wouldn’t do that. He doesn’t deserve her or her love.

But she is here. Already. He knows how many hoops she must have jumped through to get to him. He senses his dad’s involvement as well. The strings Timo Meier would have pulled for her are unlimited. So Lio Meier gets into the elevator and rises the 6 floors to his awaiting fate. Outside his apartment door, he takes a deep breath, then puts his key in the lock. He pushes the door open, not seeing her on the couch like he expected.

“Mama?” He calls into the apartment.

“Lee?” He hears her call from deep inside. She comes rushing out of his room. With zero hesitation, she grabs him and wraps him into her body for a hug. “Oh” She sighs, holding his head against hers. She sucks in a deep breath then lets out a relieved sigh at having him close to her. “Are you okay?” Her brown eyes are deeply pained. Lio closes his eyes, unable to see more.

“Um, well, I guess but also no. What are you doing?”

“Your laundry.”

“Of course.” He chuckles, shaking his head. He has been grown for awhile, but she still insists on taking care of him. It makes Lio less worried for whatever is to come.

“Well, I was very anxious waiting for you. I had to do something.” She insists, waving a hand in front of her face. “Now, go sit down. I have lemon water, hot oatmeal and toast ready for you.” She gently guides him forward. “And vitamins. You need extra nutrients to get better.”

“Mama.” Lio sighs when she turns to head back to the kitchen. He feels like such a piece of shit with how she is jumping right in to take care of him. The undeserving suffocates him, tightening his throat until he struggles to breathe. “Don’t do this.” He finally chokes out. “Don’t double down and love me harder right now.”

“Lee.” Emma comes back to him, putting her hands on his cheeks. She kisses his forehead, right over where his head aches so badly. “I am never going to stop loving you hard or taking care of you. I’m your mother.” She runs her fingers through his hair, then moves back into the kitchen. His blue eyes follow her.

“Is dad here?”

“Yes, of course. Boys are with Uncle Neeks and Auntie Lex, but Livy is coming this weekend.”

“You both didn’t have to come and Liv needs to stay in California. She has school.”

“Mmm, but we did.” Emma looks over her shoulder at him. “We needed to see that you were going to be okay.”

“Dad isn’t here now?” Lio looks down the hall towards his bedroom.

“No, we felt like it’s you and I that need to talk. Not the three of us.” Lio looks away. “Don’t be mad at daddy. It was me. He didn’t want to do it.” Lio’s blue eyes find her again in the kitchen.

“You don’t get to tell me to not be mad at him.” He whispers.

“Probably not. But I love your dad very much and if I can save him from your wrath, I want to.”

Lio goes to the couch, sitting down, laying his head back on the top. He is exhausted from his morning. He feels the air of his mom coming around the couch. She puts her hand on his forehead, smoothing the wrinkle of distress there.

“What’s the news?”

“Concussion.” Lio mumbles.

“Is your brain okay?”

“Yes.” Emma sighs in obvious relief. Her hand drops to his shoulder. She strokes her hand there, quietly contemplating where to go next. When Lio opens his eyes, she begins.

“Lio, daddy and I love you more than I even know how to say. I never thought I would have to find words to express how much and I’m deeply sorry that you’ve been so hurt.” She sighs, running her hand through her hair, then looking out the floor to ceiling windows to the city. His apartment is only a few blocks from where her and Timo lived when she was pregnant with Lio. That feels like so long ago, but she tries to go back to who she was then to give Lio more insight into their life.

“I was the one who wanted to fudge your story. I know daddy told you that this summer, but he doesn’t know all of the things that went into that. You and I had experiences when you were a baby that made me feel very protective of you. People judged. They were horrible and social media made our life so accessible, even as Daddy and I tried to hide you. But this was never because we were ashamed or didn’t love you.” Disgust and substantial disagreement scrunches Emma’s nose. “It was the exact opposite.” Emma puts her hands on her cheeks for a moment, then continues.

“When you were 10 months old, the Devils were playing in the Eastern Conference finals. Daddy was hurt. He was playing through it as he always does, so he wasn’t performing very well. People were upset.” Lio watches his mom become increasingly uncomfortable. “You and I were out at a store after the Devils went down in the series. There was an incident in public where someone came up to you, a little baby, and called you that name…” Emma closes her eyes. “They went on to literally blamed the entire playoff situation on the fact that you were born out of wedlock. Daddy’s play as well. We were being punished for our sin of having you.”

Lio can see how much this still hurts his mom decades later.

“I’m sorry, mom.” He says sincerely.

“That person got to me.” Emma shakes her head. “I felt you deserved a better story. A more picture perfect story because of how much joy and purpose you brought to our lives. I..” She sighs. “I felt like we ruined your childhood before it had even really begun. I tried to fix it the way I knew how. Instead I hurt you.”

“But Lio, please know, I have loved you since the moment I knew of you even when I was crying on a bathroom floor. I didn’t know what to do, but I knew I had to figure it out for you. When I got up off that tile, whatever decision daddy wanted wasn’t going to shake my decision. You were coming because I wanted you. It would be me and you against the world.” Emma stops, looking at him, then she chuckles. “But daddy wasn’t going anywhere. He was all in. He loved us so much. You’ve seen the videos from when I was pregnant with you. Nothing about that was forced.”

Lio remembers the one of his dad laughing hard as a three week old Lio tried to latch onto Timo’s big chest. The pictures of him on the ice at The Rock for the first time in skates that looked massive on his feet. Tons of videos of Lio and Timo napping together the year of the Devils first cup run. He looks across his apartment at a picture of his parents and him with the cup. It was only Lio and them at that time. Well, his mom was pregnant with Livy, but they barely knew that. Although the most difficult to win trophy in sports is right there, his dad’s hands are on a young Lio, engulfing him and his mom in his sweaty equipment.

“It felt like a lie.” Lio hears himself say. He gestures to the picture. Emma follows his gaze. “Like it looked like that. But then you and dad would make a comment about wanting me so bad you couldn’t wait and my whole life felt like a lie.” Emma swallows hard, nodding.

“I see that now, Lee. I’m very sorry. But that was real. That was our life, baby.” She reaches for his hand.

“It hurt me.” He whispers. Emma winces, then runs her hand up his arm to squeeze his shoulder.

“I know. I am so sorry. I hope you can forgive me.” Emma purses her lips together, then looks at Lio with tears in her eyes. She brushes her thumb over the hairs behind his ear. “So loved. So wanted. Never a mistake.” Lio nods, then reaches to hug her. They hold one another tightly.

“Love you, mama.” Lio inhales heavily. “I can see how you wanted to protect me.”

“I love you, Lee. So much sweet boy.” When they pull apart, Emma stands to grab Lio more water, then comes back to the couch.

“She wasn’t even pregnant.” Lio confesses. “False positive.”

“Oh.” Emma blinks. This is the first time she is hearing this. “How does that make you feel?”

“Relieved.” Lio answers honestly. “More than any of the other reasons I said this summer… I just don’t want kids, mama.” Emma nods. She has suspected so for awhile.

“It’s your life. You get to decide. But you need to be more careful because at some point, it becomes not your choice.”

“Kay, pot.” Lio jokes with a light-hearted smirk. Emma tisks, chuckling and smacking Lio’s leg.

“Don’t slut shame your mother. You didn’t see how good James Bond looked that night.”

- - -

A brisk and skin drying wind has picked up on the East coast in the middle of November. Old man winter is roaring its way to the East coast with a winter storm warning in effect beginning tomorrow. With the impending weather, things are sure to get dicey in the booming metropolis of New York City. Despite the lingering effects of his concussion agitating him today, Lio is currently being dragged from room to room in the Bubble Planet by Stella Wood.

“This way! This way!” She yells, struggling to pull his heavy weight with her little body.

“Stell, I’m coming. Just chill.” He laughs.

“She doesn’t know that word. She’s three.” Lucie jokes back to him.

They weave through room after room, each one more exciting than the last. Stella is having the time of her life, especially when she is on Lio’s shoulders, getting to touch the bubbles falling from the ceiling.

“Mama, this is the best day! I wish daddy could come!” Lucie and Lio avoid looking at each other, just like they avoid the giant elephant that is Connor Wood between them.

Although Lucie and Connor have discussed more about what happened this summer, he is not ready to move on. It got particularly heated when Lucie asked if Stella could see Lio. Connor questioned Lucie’s motives, worried about the implications and confusion Stella would have about Connor not being there. These were fair and valid points, but her inquisitiveness hurt less than her tears about missing Lio.

“Baby, you do what you need to do, but I’m not interested in spending time with him or fixing this. I’ve made concessions along the way. This is where I am at. Stell stays here with me.”

Lucie respected that. She dropped it completely. But suddenly the next morning, Connor had given her quiet permission for her to bring Stella to breakfast with Lio. That was a month ago. Connor heads to the rink on days when his girls are meeting up with Lio, always having an excuse about training or treatment or nutrition. Lucie kisses him extra hard on those days, wanting him to know she loves him deeply and understands so much of this is difficult for them.

Now, as she watches Stella up on Lio’s shoulders, all she can fathom is the immense hole Connor’s absence brings.

“Baby, are you getting hungry?” Lucie asks her daughter as they bop out onto the New York avenue.

“Yeah.”

“What do you want?”

“Mac and cheese!”

“You had that for dinner last night.” Lucie laughs.

“She is a good Swiss girl!” Lio nods approvingly.

“Her favorite is Kraft.” Lucie points out.

“We’ll work on it. She’s three, ya know.” He jostles Lucie’s shoulder, then immediately regrets it at the way the world swirls upright for a minute. “Oof.” He rubs at his temples.

“Careful, Lee. No setbacks.” Lucie cautions, gripping his shoulder.

The three of them head a few blocks down to a diner, settling into a red booth with huge, plastic menus and a coloring page for Stella. Lio sits on her side of the booth, taking turns coloring a troll in a field of daisy.

“Not pink!” Stella scrunches her nose, pushing Lio’s hand away.

“What? You said I could pick any color.”

“Yeah, any one but pink.”

“You love pink?”

“When I was two.”

Lucie and Lio both snort, attempting to pursue their lips to keep their laughter in. Stella Wood is an absolute hoot.

“Can I share a milkshake with you?” Lucia asks Lio.

“I was gonna share with Stell.”

“Oh, I see how it is.” She raises her eyebrows then looks away with a smirk at her menu. She decides on a simple Strawberry shake. “Stell, do you want to share with uncle Lee?”

“Yeah.”

“Which flavor?”

“Reese’s! His favorite!”

“No, you can’t have those, baby. You’re allergic to peanuts.”

“No peanuts in there?”

“Yes, there is peanut butter.” Lucie calmly reminds her.

“Sorry, Uncle Lee. I get sick.” She pats her little pot belly.

“It’s okay. I was thinking chocolate.”

“Oh yes.” The little girl sighs happily.

The waitress comes and takes their orders. The adults grab cheeseburgers with fries while Stella happily exclaims she needs Mac and Cheese. The waitress practically swoons out of her Keds at how sweetly Stella thanks her for going to get their food. More coloring is done and a quick few games of hangman using three letter words like cat and dog and hat. Stella is getting so good at her ABCs. The milkshakes come out first. Stella watches in awe as the shake is split between two cups for her and her uncle.

“You gonna be able to finish that?” Lio asks.

“Mhm.” Stella nods enthusiastically. With one hand she grabs the glass while the other helps her balance on the table top. She sucks up the milkshake quickly, then sputters, coughing.

“Oh, that was a big sip. It’s cold, huh?” Lucie chuckles, handing Stella her water glass. She holds it up to the little girl’s lips for a sip.

“Ah!” She exclaims. “Mmmm.” She sucks up more of the thick liquid. Lio and Lucie chuckle, watching Stella enjoy her ice cream. Lio leans back farther in the booth, looking across the table at his cousin.

“I’ve had so much fun with you today. I missed this.”

“Me too.” Lucie murmur. Stella coughs again, loudly, then seems to gag. Stella sits up straighter, looking Lucie in the eyes with wide orbs. “Are you okay, baby?” Lucie straightens. Lio sits up as well, reaching out for Stella. She makes a wheezing noise, then sticks her tongue out.

“Oh my god. Stell?” Lucie covers her mouth, watching a red, angry rash begin to form on Stella’s face. Lio grabs Stella as she begins to sway backward.

“She is very warm.”

“What is going on?” Lucie whispers, she looks around the table then she smells it, the faintest whiff of peanut butter coming from the ice cream in the glass Stella was drinking. “Oh my god. Peanut butter.” She reaches for her purse, fumbling around. “Um.. ohmygod.”

“Do you have an Epipen?”

“Um.” She nods vigorously, beginning to pant herself. Her stomach tightens, fear dashes down her spine. She rips her hands through the contents of her purse, looking for the injection she always carries with her since the first reaction Stella had a few months ago in Switzerland. But it wasn’t like this. It was nothing close to this.

“Luc, come on.” Lio calls to his cousin, picking up Stella into his arms. “You’re okay, baby. It’s okay!” He tries for a cheery voice as Stella being to sob. “Luc, dump the purse out.” Lucie picks the bag up, emptying it from the handles. Lio sees the EpiPen immediately, tossing the cap off hastily. He does the injection, pausing to watch Stella’s reaction. Her wheezing gets tighter, but she can no longer speak to him or even cry. Lio’s heart is racing in his chest as he watches her struggle.

“Do you have another one?”

“No! It’s with Connor at home.” She shakes her head frantically. “Oh my god. Someone call an ambulance!” Lucie sobs out to the restaurant. In the haste of dumping her purse out, her phone fell underneath the booth. But she is frozen in paralysis. She can’t move. She can’t breathe. She is forced to watch her baby struggle.

Adrenaline takes over Lio like he was injected with the epinephrine. He calculates out where they are in the city, the amount of time it will take for an ambulance to get there and he knows Stella’s chances of making it are slim with how much she is struggling even after her first injection. He has seen this before with a kid in school when they still lived in Jersey.

“There isn’t time for the ambulance. I’m taking her to Children’s.” The hospital is at the end of the three blocks they walked from Bubble Planet, close to Lucie’s car. Lio secures Stella to his chest and begins to run from the restaurant. He leaves Lucie at the table to scramble her things back into her bag. He runs as fast as his body will go. Stella jostles against his shoulder, going limper and limper and Lio quite literally races against time.

“You’re going to be okay, Stell. it’s going to be okay. I won’t let anything happen to you.” He promises the little girl in his arms.

Tears blur his vision. His concussion rears it’s ugly head, pulsing against his temples and making the sidewalk shift with his blurred vision. He can’t let that stop him. Stella needs him. He pushes his injured and weak body to go harder the next block, dodging pedestrians and cabs in walk ways and dogs on leashes. He hits the emergency entrance of the hospital, screaming for help.

“Help! Please! My nieces is going into shock! She was exposed to peanuts!” Nurses swarm him, snatching Stell immediately and taking over.

“Did you give her Epinephrine?”

“How was she exposed?”

“Is this her first exposure?”

Lio answers the questions as best he can. Yes, ingested and no. He looks over his shoulder, wondering when he can expect to see Lucie. But then they are taking Stella away on her bed. Another nurse holds him back as they rush down the hall with her.

“Sir, I need you to wait in the lobby.”

She is right. He needs to wait for Lucie anyway. But that doesn’t make it easier to turn around. He heads to the doors he just sprinted through, avoiding the gazes of curious onlookers. He walks outside into the cold air. His chest tightens immediately and he turns to the side, looking for something he can vomit into. But then he sees Lucie Wood, rushing down the sidewalk, clutching her purse to her chest, sobbing so loud he can hear every inhale and exhale of her shaking body.

“Luc, they’ve got her.” Lio calls to her. He opens his arms up and Lucie collapses into his body. His shirt is immediately wet from her face. Large hiccups shudder her frame against him. He squeezes her tight, smoothing her hair down. “It’s going to be okay.” Lio whispers to her, hoping that maybe if they chant that together, it will make it real.

Several minutes pass. Lucie continues to sob into Lio’s body, even after he moves her inside to get out of the wind. The doctors come out looking for him, finding him and Lucie together. Stella is stable. They can go see her, but she will need to stay for several hours for monitoring as they had to give her two more injections. Lucie heads right into her daughter’s room, curling up with the little girl who looks drugged and exhausted in the center.

“Mama is here. You’re okay.” She cries to her daughter. Stella is upset and shaken from the ordeal. She clings to Lucie like a monkey, balling her shirt up in her little fists.

“LuLu, do you want me to call Connor?”

“Yes.” Lucie whispers, barely able to get the word out of her shaking lips. She reaches into the back pocket of her jeans, handing her phone to him. “If you call he won’t answer.” She says simply. Lio tries to brush that off like it doesn’t hurt, but it stings as bad as the wind biting his cheeks during his sprint to the hospital.

Lio takes a deep breath, then clicks on Connor’s contact. His heart is pounding in his chest like he’s about to take a face-off in the final minute of a trailing game. He licks his lips, leaning agains the wall, waiting on the call to connect.

“Hey baby! I’m just about to leave.”

“Ah.” Lio coughs. “Hey, it’s Lio.”

Silence.

“Where is Lucie?” A definite snap tightens the words through the line.

“She’s with Stella. She asked me to call you and tell you what is going on.”

“What? Are they okay? What..”

“Lucie is okay.” Lio starts.

“Stell? Whats wrong with her!?” Connor’s voice is beginning to escalate. “What did you do, Lio?” Connor snaps. Lio closes his eyes.

“I didn’t do anything. It was a mistake at the restaurant.”

“Fuck!” Connor yells. “Where are you?”

“At Children’s hospital off 34th.”

“You have to tell me what happened, Lio.”

“I’m trying to, but you’re not letting me get much out here, man.” Connor sighs. Lio takes his silence as compliance. “We were out grabbing lunch and she had an allergic reaction and we had to bring her to the hospital. Her Epipen wasn’t enough.”

“Fuck, I have the second one. We usually have the two together, but Lucie and I had plans the other night and…” Connor’s voice is distraught.

“It happens. But you should get down here. They need you.”

“I’m on my way.”

Lio removes the phone from his ear, looking at the lock screen of Lucie, Connor and Stella. Lio took that photo of them this summer in Switzerland, before everything happened. He sighs heavily, then comes back into the room.

“Connor is coming.” Lio assures Lucie. She doesn’t take her crying eyes off the little girl in her arms. She sniffs and nods in acknowledgement, continuing to touch her daughter’s face soothingly. Lio can’t tell if it’s for Stella or Lucie.

Connor Wood arrives thirty minutes later with squeaking sneakers on the tile floor of the hospital hallway. Lucie and Stella are dozing in an overwhelmed sleep. Lio sits in the chair next to them with one hand on Stella, rubbing her arm. Lucie’s hand clings to his wrist, needing comfort in one of the worst moments of her life.

“I’m a terrible mom.” She had told Lio tearfully.

“You’re not. It was scary.”

“What if you weren’t there?”

“It doesn’t matter. I was.”

“Luc! Stell!” Connor rushes into the room then locks in on Lio. He shifts his worried eyes to the bed, seeing Lucie and Stella curled together. His lips pull into a deep frown, then his eyes seemingly dim when he takes in Lio in the place he should be.

“They’re resting, Lucie is pretty upset.” Lio says as he slowly works his wrist out of Lucie’s grasp. “I’m sorry, I know you don’t want to see me. I’ll leave now, I just didn’t want to leave the girls alone before you got here.”

“What happened?” Connor asks. Lio can see the way his chest rapidly raises and falls beneath the Rangers logo on his chest.

“Stella somehow got a peanut butter shake at the diner. Wrong order. She had some and started having a severe reaction.” Connor’s face gets ghostly pale. He puts his hand on his head over his blue hat, waiting for more. “Um, Luc, She… she panicked. It was all scary. Truly awful. But I gave Stell the injection, but it didn’t do enough. She became mostly unresponsive.” Connor closes his eyes, bringing his hands to his face in anguish. “There wasn’t time to wait for help, so I grabbed Stella and ran here with her.”

“You ran?”

“Yeah. Stell didn’t have time.” Lio reiterates. If he is mad at Lio for that, then so be it. Maybe it was reckless, but Lio had to make a judgement call and Stell is going to be okay because of it. Connor stares at Lio. Then suddenly he steps forward around the bed. Lio stands up taller, preparing for anything. Connor wraps an arm around Lio’s shoulders to bring him into his body. Lio brings his hands up, clasping Connor’s back as they share a deep, sincere hug.

“Thank you.” Connor whispers, tears coating his voice. Lio squeezes Connor tighter, not wanting to let go of his best friend. Suddenly, it hits Lio. How close they were to losing Stell. How dire she had looked when he ran through the doors of the ER. How Lucie had every right to be that terrified at the table. It had been bad. Horrible. Worst case scenario.

Lio can’t help it. He begins to sob. Everything that has happened the last few months weeps out of him. From losing Savannah, to screaming at his parents, to only having his little sister, to losing the three people in this room with him. His concussion… almost losing Stella on that New York street.

“It’s okay, Lee. She’s going to be okay.” Connor puts his hand on Lio’s head. “You saved our girl.” Lio nods, shuddering as he pulls away. Both men wipe their faces with their hands, then look over to the two girls laying in the bed. Stella has a sleepy grin on her face, watching them.

“Daddy!” She giggles, reaching out to him, flexing and unflexing her fingers for him to come closer.

“Hi baby.” Connor smiles brightly, leaning down to kiss her cheeks. “Can I lay with you and mama?”

“Yeah.” Stella yawns as she says the word.

“Sleepy.” Connor chuckles, kissing her again. He curls her and Lucie into his body, trying to be careful not to wake his wife. Lucie jolts up at the feeling of his hands on her. “Me, Luc. It’s me.” She visibly relaxes when she sees her husband. “I’m here.” He brushes her cheek with his thumb.

Lio watches from the end of the bed, then anxiously rubs at his forehead. He clears his throat, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“Um, well I’ll head out so you all can be together.”

“No, don’t go.” Lucie shakes her head.

“It’s okay, Luc. I’ll see you later.”

“You should stay with us.” Connor says softly. “We want you here.” The insinuation of the we has the corners of Lio’s mouth sliding up.

Lio makes his way back to the chair by the bedside, sitting down in it. Him and Connor share a look of understanding. Lucie trails her nails along Stella’s back as another big yawn stretches her little mouth.

“Uncle Lee?” Stella murmurs.

“Hm?”

“You gonna be here when I wake up?”

“Yeah, Stell.” He sighs. “I’ll be right here.”

#lio & lucie

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