#and ofc “I woke up” here means not only waking up from sleep | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

oxymorayuri · 4 months

Note

HI YURII, i absolutely adore the way you write and i wanted to request some hc’s or a small fic abt law reaction to reader’s pregnancy, likeee how’d he react after telling him and how those 9 months would affect law’s personality and relationship w reader

but only if u want too ofc! thx and have a wonderful dayy <3

A/N: Hi there, my darling ♡

How can I refuse such a lovely request? I feel very honored every time you guys tell me that you enjoy my stories. My heart fills with pride when I read your kind comments.

OneShot or HC? Why not both? Two are better than one!

Here are the headcanons [Law|Ace|Kid|Doffy]

Okay, let's go! Have fun with the OneShot!

✦ Pairing: Trafalgar D. Water Law x Reader ✦ Content: idk, not much, i guess? I'm pretty bad at this lol. bit angst, a little jealousy and endless fluff ✦ Spoiler: none ✦ Description: You're pregnant and Law's reaction is everything you could wish for *-* This OneShot doesn't completely fit the request, hence the HC, hope that's okay :3

Wordcount: 6383

❝𝑌𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝑔𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑠!❞

It's quite unusual for you to wake up in the middle of the night, but you woke up with an overwhelming craving for something sweet. Falling straight back to sleep is hopeless, so you're forced to stare around the room until perhaps drowsiness sets in.

Aside from the ticking of the clock, it's absolutely silent but you feel as if the ticking is becoming progressively louder 'til you have satisfied your ravenous appetite.

You picture it, the mousse that Ikkaku made… You have no clue how she makes it. You've tried to make it yourself, even following her recipe, but it's just not the same. However, when Ikkaku makes it, it tastes heavenly.

You can feel the foamy dessert melting on your tongue and the subtle hint of dark chocolate spreads through your mouth. Your saliva starts to gather in your mouth... That's enough! You need to eat dessert. Immediately!

The chance of waking Law is high, yet you would kill for a little midnight snack! The only thing is; you have to get out of Law's arms first...

You look at the dark haired man as he sleeps with a peaceful face. One arm around your waist, face to face.

On days like this, when you two haven't had much of each other, you'll at least have your little moments in your shared bed. With your faces turned towards each other, you talk about your busy day… Until one of you falls asleep and that one is usually you.

It's mostly you who talks about your day and Law hangs on your every word while you talk enthusiastically about all sorts of things.

Law is usually a bit reserved, because in his opinion he always does the same thing anyway and you must be getting bored of that. But that's not the case. You love the sparkle in his eyes when he talks about the things he has learned from his book, or when he has got hold of a rare coin.. He always lights up like a little boy who's been at school for the first day.

[throwback]

“…And did you know that an adult's entire intestine is 5 to 7 meters long? Imagine that.” You raise your eyebrow in disbelief.

“Five to seven meters?! No way, how is that supposed to fit?” You stroke your stomach while Law laughs at your bewilderment. Of course you believe him, you believe anything he says. He could tell you every lie and you would believe it immediately, but luckily Law doesn't lie to you. He is sometimes very secretive towards you and keeps a lot to himself like a loner, but he is by no means a liar.

“No joke, you can believe me… I could show you if you like.” Law speaks with a confident self assurance that makes you snort.

His confused eyes look at you insistently and he repeats that he could show you while raising his hand.

“Room!” You immediately realize what he's up to and you reach out with both hands to stop him. He really is planning to show you his intestines. Ah, no thanks.

You shake your head, still chuckling.

“I always believe you, my love… It's just kind of hard to imagine…” - “Yes, I know... I could hardly believe it either. That's why I took my intestine out straight away and measured it.”

You can't take any more. Law speaks with a nonchalance that brings tears to your eyes. You love him for his strangeness, that's what makes him so human.

“Anything for science.” you whisper quietly to him.

No longer interested in how long the human intestine is, you lean over and give him a little kiss. Being with Law is always a learning experience, the special thing is what you learn about Law along the way. About his heart and mind, while he talks about all the things that fascinate him.

Gosh, you adore him so much.

[throwback end]

Law's slight movement snaps you out of your reverie and for a moment you have the chance to slip out of his arms.

Silent as a ninja, you sneak out of your room and scurry into the kitchen.

Once in the kitchen, you can't wait another second and spoon up the dessert right in front of the fridge.

Whilst you let each scoop melt in your mouth, you hear footsteps coming closer to the kitchen. You try to hide, but it's too late because Bepo, who also wanted to sneak into the kitchen, enters.

You look at him like a frozen deer and he gives you a similar look. With your eyes still staring at the polar bear, you slowly bring the spoon to your mouth and devour the chocolate mousse. Without your eyes parting for even a second.

“What are you doing?” You leave the spoon in your mouth and look at him with a tilted head.

“Err, what does it look like…?” Your voice a little muffled, as if you were brushing your teeth. It's obvious what you're doing? With the bowl in your hand, you sit down at the table and wave the Mink over to you.

“Come on, get over here before the mousse is gone.” A little taken aback, he blinks a few times and joins you at the table.

Of course he wants some of the chocolate wonder, so he hurries to you.

You take turns spooning from your bowl and after each bite you hold your hand to your flushed cheek. It tastes simply divine.

However, you barely exchange a word, because it goes without saying that this meeting will remain a secret. You only hear a pleasurable moan and a soft mumble in between.

A few days have passed since then and a few other unusual things have happened. Your cravings have become a little weirder, your sense of smell has increased and fish suddenly no longer tastes good to you! As soon as you smelled sushi, you felt sick to your stomach. Unusual, you thought, but it could have been something else. You didn't think anything else of it and went about your everyday duties, quickly forgetting about the oddities anyway.

Until you got up one morning and ran straight to the toilet. You felt nauseous and it came out faster than you would have liked, so you left the door open and it gushed out of you straight into the toilet.

Your dinosaur like noises woke up the grouchy Law who rubbed his eyes in a drowsy state.

Who or what is that? And why is it so loud?

Law is definitely not a morning person. Talk to him before his coffee and you will see… Well, nothing will happen except that he ignores you and turns around. He won't even talk to you before he takes a sip, but no problem. Isn't it always like this; that a bright person is together with a grumpy one?

Tired, the black haired man sits up and runs his fingers through his tangled hair while still sitting on the edge of the bed with his eyes closed.

The noise is unusually loud and seems as if it is directly in the next room… In the next room… And finally it clicks in his head. You are making that noise.

Law snaps his eyes open, being fully awake now, and hurried to the open bathroom. There he looked down at you with your head almost IN the bowl, unable to stop vomiting.

At first he stood in the doorway, looking somewhat at a loss, until he finally remembered that he was a doctor.

You weren't responsive right now anyway… So Law prepared a few things for you when you finally finished throwing up…

Concerned, he stands behind you with a glass of water in his hand. It seems to be reaaally bad. He doesn't like seeing you like this, your health is important to him, probably more important than his own.

You've noticed for a while that Law is standing behind you and you appreciate him not saying anything. You're not embarrassed, not in front of Law, he's taken care of you before when you've drunk yourself into a coma so the sight shouldn't be that strange. You had to smile a little when you noticed how he tied your hair in a ponytail, so it wouldn't fall in front of your face, while you emptied out your stomach.

“Oh god. There shouldn't be *bleurggh* anything left in my *bleurggh* stomach…” A little out of breath, you lean against the wall next to the toilet.

You're not quite sure if it's the end, but it feels all right.

“I assume it's a little better now?” Tired from throwing up, you look up at him while he hands you the glass of water with a scrutinizing look.

You can't do more than nod half heartedly.

Law walked over to the toilet and flushed the contents, which looked like two days' worth of stomach contents.

He squatted down to you and began to clean your face with a lukewarm cloth. You don't look sick. Your eyelids don't droop and your skin doesn't look too pale. You just look a little worn out, which is no wonder. After all, you've given the toilet the biggest serenade of your life.

“I should take you to the infirmary and run some tests.” His hands reach for yours. With his thumb, he gently strokes the back of your hand and pulls lightly to help you to your feet. A little wobbly on your feet, you hold on to him and smile weakly at him.

“…I'm fine, thank you my love.” A little cold water on your face should be enough, so you go over to the sink to freshen up.

“Don't argue y/n, as your captain and doctor, I'm telling you that I'll give you a check up.” You look at him through the mirror as you run your wet hands through your face and roll your eyes.

“Uh huh, as captain and doctor…”

he groans a little and takes you in his arms from behind

“And as your partner too, of course.”

He kisses you on the cheek and you lean into his embrace with a little chuckle. For just a moment, you can savor your embrace, but the very next second, you find yourself in the same position with him in the infirmary.

That whole shambling around doesn't do you any good at all, you were already feeling sick anyway and you always feel a bit dizzy when he teleports with you. You put your hand over your mouth but it's too late. You quickly rush to a garbage can and fill it with your vomit.

“Hah… Law, that wasn't so clever…” You lean on the bin with both hands as you kneel in front of it.

“Ah…uh…sorry, force of habit…” His words seem a little flustered and as you look over your shoulder you see him sheepishly stroke his beard.

Yep, force of habit… It's definitely not the first time he's teleported you somewhere. Whether he wanted to kidnap you in your busy routine or wanted to steal you away from annoying guys.

He can be a bit jealous sometimes, even if he doesn't say anything, you can see right through him. Honestly, you have to admit to yourself that you enjoy it perhaps a little too much. Law usually reacts rather passively, but at some point things start to get over his limit and he reacts, somewhat flashily…

[throwback]

It's a lovely afternoon on the Sunny, and before you went your separate ways, the Heart Pirates and the Straw Hats wanted to throw a nice party to celebrate your victory.

You had a good time together and formed strong friendships, it makes you a little sad that you won't see each other for a while… but you are sure that your paths will cross again soon.

You keep glancing back to where Law is drinking some sake with Zoro, while Usopp and Luffy were doing all sorts of silly things. You can't help giggling at the sight. Their conversations are also rather short, but somehow they both seem quite relaxed and enjoy the silence between them. Your sweet introvert…

You turn back to the ladies at the table and get into a conversation full of girl stuff and laughter. Right by your side, there's Bepo napping on the floor and while your chin rests in one hand, listening to Nami, you pat Bepo's head with the other.

At your service is none other than Sanji and he serves you with the most distinguished manners. You like Sanji, he is charming and knows how to talk to women and sometimes you allow yourself to have fun and go for it… You don't flirt back, no way! You're crazy about Law and everyone knows it, but you like to have a bit of fun.

“Here my beautiful ladies, I've allowed myself to prepare your favorite drinks.” With grace and style, he holds the tray in his hand and serves you some fresh drinks. He pushes a beautifully decorated cocktail glass in front of you, one with a light blue liquid, topped with whipped cream and blue glitter sprinkles.

You know exactly what kind of drink is in front of you and happily thank the Blondie. How thoughtful he is… he's made you your favorite drink; swimming pool!

You gleefully nip at the straw and let the refreshing drink run down your tongue. As you spoon down some of the cream, you notice that Sanji has used coconut milk ice cubes instead of water ice cubes. How creative! This way the drink doesn't get watered down and only gets creamier and that's exactly how you love your swimming pool - creamy!

“Aww Sanji, you're always so thoughtful and good to us!” With your eyes closed, you enjoy your drink. It's so well prepared that you can barely taste the alcohol; how dangerous.

With your hand on your cheek, you praise the cocktail. Nami gushes with you and sighs contentedly that this is her everyday life... and Sanji loves doing it! That's the best part.

“We're really lucky to have Sanji, aren't we?” Robin giggles, as Sanji loses his temper in a dramatic way. It's as if all the attention is making his heart leap through his chest, and on one knee he babbles something about how it's not just an honor to serve you, but his greatest joy.

He may be a little pushy but isn't he also a little funny? Your girl gang bursts out into laughter, oh dear, if you only knew how Law watches the spectacle from behind with an annoyed expression…

With his chin in his hand, Law taps his cheek a little impatiently with one finger. He can hit on whoever he wants, but does he always have to get so close to you? He's got Nami and Robin to ogle, but you're his!

He knows he doesn't have to be jealous. You're only being friendly to him, as you are to everyone, but the reaction of others is what annoys him. The fact that some people think you're flirting with them, when you're just very kind and approachable (yea guess who's not.) literally pisses Law off.

He is quite sure that no one but himself has a chance with you, in fact he knows that you can become quite different if someone crosses your line… If Law's line hasn't been crossed before… It's pretty different sometimes…

Like today for example, today Law doesn't have that much patience and since Sanji moves in your inner circle, his limits are crossed quite quickly. And maybe all that sake is also to blame.

Because of your lively conversation, you realize far too late, how Law has formed his blue dome over you and just as Nami remarks it, you find yourself already on Law's lap.

Bewildered, you look up at him while his gaze is somewhat serious on Sanji. When he felt your gaze on him, he looked you in the eye with his typical grin and spoke with an absolute calmness that made your heart flutter.

“You all right?” You widen your eyes a little and raise both eyebrows. Is he serious? As if it's such a normal thing to just teleport me onto his lap out of nowhere, like it's the most normal thing in the world.

You know exactly why he did it. You saw the look he gave Sanji, but okay, you just play along. Let's see what happens.

“Yes, of course. Do you need something, love?”

He comes a little closer to you, his gaze melts the ice in your drink because you're getting so hot, but you try not to show it and smile at him innocently.

Before he reaches for the straw, he looks provocatively over to Sanji and drinks from your cocktail.

“You talked so highly of it, I really wanted to try it too, you know?” - “Sure…” like hypnotized you watch him sip from your drink while his eyes rest on your lips.

“You've got some whipped cream on your lip…” you want to quickly wipe the cream away with your hand but Law holds it tight and speaks in a low mellow voice "no, let me..."

Barely a second later, his lips are already on yours and he licks the cream off your lips in a luscious kiss.

You didn't even realize what was happening to you as you sat frozen on his lap. You can only vaguely make out the annoyed murmur of Zoro telling you to get a room or Nami cheering joyfully. You slowly come back to your senses and lean close to his ear, to whisper a few sweet words…

“I love sweet kisses… how 'bout we continue on the Polar Tang?”

Honestly, you love the way Law steals you away. He doesn't do it in an aggressive way, but in a way that makes it clear who you belong to. He never confronts the others, he just shows how in love you are with each other.

If that's not territory marking then you don't know BUT you love it.

His reaction is as expected. You know that look all too well. There's something overwhelming about the way Law's beautiful eyes run over your face as you innocently bite your lip. You could swear his eyes darken and he runs his tongue over his lower lip with a grin.

His grip tightens and his laugh deepens so that you can feel the vibration of his voice.

“Good idea.” He places a small kiss on your cheek before saying goodbye to the others. The question marks are written all over your face. You really just wanted to tease him, but you could have guessed what is about to happen.

You barely managed to wave goodbye before you found yourself back in your room on the Polar Tang. And well, you know it's obvious what will happens next… ;)

[throwback end]

“All right, so far so good. Now just a small blood check and then we'll be on the safe side.” His words bring you out of your memory and you look at his back. At a small table, he prepares a syringe to take some of your blood.

With concentration, he turns around and traces along your arm to locate a suitable vein.

“Could you make a fist?” You do as he says and he nods in response. When he had found a suitable spot, you were allowed to relax your hand and he smoothly drew the blood into the tube.

You watch him in complete devotion as he looks attentively at the syringe. Your eyes meet for a moment before he quickly returns to his task and presses a band aid onto the needle mark.

“That's it.” Again, he turns away from you to dispose the materials properly. A little disappointed, you slide down with your butt from the stretcher. You wish you could have watched him a little longer. He always looks so handsome when he's fully concentrated on his work.

“When will the results be ready?” you ask curiously as you look over his shoulder. By now you're feeling much better, you're sure it's nothing serious.

“Give me a few hours and I should have something out.” - “Hardworking as ever.” You gently stroke his shoulder as you went to turn around and Law quickly reached for your hand.

He gently pulls you close to give you a kiss on the back of your hand, his eyes always have a powerful effect on you and your cheeks turn a soft pink.

“We should go for breakfast, you should regain your energy. Go ahead, I'll clean up and come straight away.” Your heart softens at his care.

“I'll make us some coffee then.” Satisfied, he nods at you and lets go. In a good mood, you walk along the corridors of the cold Polar Tang, humming a bright melody.

The day went on as usual, the work on the Polar Tang was pure routine. A few small repairs here and inspections there. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just as you were about to leave the engine room to write your report, you bump into your friend.

“Heyyy y/n, already done with work?” You look up from your notes and have a chat with Ikkaku. After an waaay too short talk, you part ways as her beeper has gone off and she quickly went back to work. Apparently she has a lot to do... Your eyes go back to your list. You need to talk to Law, because you're slowly running out of materials for the maintenance of your submarine.

You've been underwater for quite a while now and you should be ascending soon. Ikkaku could probably use some materials too, maybe you should do a general inventory and make a supply list with Law. Just as you were about to turn around to go to Ikkaku to start with her, your beeper sounds.

A quick glance at your black device tells you that Law wants to talk to you, so you turn around again.

So, then you'll start the list tomorrow. After all, you'll be traveling for a few more days before you reach the next island...

You can't quite believe your ears and you stand in front of Law with your mouth open, completely frozen. Your pretty brain has to process this information first. You actually want to say something but don't quite know how to start the sentence.

“Y-you say I'm pregnant?!!!” You automatically reach for your belly.

“How could this happen?!” you look up at Law, unsure of how you should feel. To be honest, you're a little overwhelmed, but it's not actually a bad thing. You're actually at the age where it's appropriate, aren't you?

Law, who is leaning against his table in front of you, takes a breath to explain to you HOW this could have happened, in a physical and medical sense.

With knitted eyebrows, you shake your hand in front of Law in order to stop him. You know how, but somehow you're surprised. You often hear that the birth control failed here and there and the woman got pregnant, but somehow you think it would never happen to you and now it's happened to you.

Surprise, surprise.

You drop into a chair and look a little defeated.

“Shit…” you mutter. Law takes the results of your blood report and tries to change the subject.

“But hey, judging by your results, you're perfectly healthy and have the best possible condition for the baby." He turns the page to check a few more things.

“We should probably just get some more sun and fresh air for your wellbeing. Your vitamin D levels are a little low… No wonder down here…” In his head, he makes a mental note to talk to Bepo and Hakugan about surfacing today.

That sounds as if…

“Do you want me to keep the child?” You look up at him, a little surprised. A pleasant excitement spreads through your chest at the thought that Law will be the father of your child.

His eyes peek over the edge of the paper, looking down at you. He examines your glazed eyes, places the papers on the table and crouches down in front of you to be closer to you.

“Do you want to keep the child, y/n?” he notices that you're a little unsure, but that's okay. That's normal... but he will follow your final decision. No matter what you decide, he will stand by you and make sure you are both safe and happy.

Somehow it all feels surreal. You and Law are having a baby. That will change everything now, but you're longing to find out what it's like. You shrug your shoulders a little sheepishly.

“Uh-huh… kind of, yea.” Somewhat embarrassed, you smile at him. For you, getting together with Law has always been like hitting the jackpot, but you'd never thought about you two becoming parents.

But dear, if you only knew how Law sees you… He'd be lying if he said he wasn't happy about becoming a dad, but right now you're coming first, since you're feeling 'a little under the water'. [sorry but I couldn't help myself, lol]

“Well, I guess we have something to celebrate, don't we?“

Law's grin makes you smile. Somehow he always pushes the right buttons with you. With his charming looks, his cunning manner and clever little head, he always manages to mess with your feelings. You've never felt this way about anyone before and you weren't exactly a virgin before… Now that you're becoming parents, you feel like you're starting to really mature with Law.

“How are we going to tell them?” Parties are not his thing, you know that, but as soon as the others find out, they want to throw a party anyway.

He seems to be thinking deeply as he plays with your fingers.

“Maybe we'll just throw a party…” you look down at him in surprise, but he explains why.

“I know for a fact that we won't be able to avoid it…” a small giggle slips out of your mouth and you gently squeeze his hand, but Law breaks your eye contact.

“Well, I won't be able to get around it…” You're never against a fun party, but after an hour Law's social battery is usually drained and he disappears into his study.

“Not a bad idea, actually. If we plan the party, we can be sure that it won't be too chaotic. Let's keep it simple.” Law is pleased that you share the same thought. Well, it's probably because you can't party as hard as usual, but it doesn't make you sad. Somehow the joy slowly sets in.

Law gets up and pulls you up with him while you both hold hands. Without saying a word, he takes you in his arms and you breathe in his calming scent. At this very moment you just feel so good, even though you were so scattered until a few moments ago, you are sure that everything will work out with Law by your side.

You're kind of excited. The crew thinks you're throwing a party because you're resurfacing today and they believe that cheap lie, but what pirate crew needs a reason to throw a party? They probably don't give it a second thought and are happy to have food and booze under the sun.

In a good mood, you hum a little tune in the kitchen while you prepare a few treats in the kitchen. At some point, Shachi comes by and you tell him that he shouldn't be snacking, but he just laughs cheekily at you and stuffs a filled onigiri into your mouth. You hum contentedly as you taste the tuna cream.

“You're getting better and better y/n, the shape is a real triangle this time too!” you smack him on the back of the head and huff in offense.

He's used to it and your blows don't even really hurt so he just laughs as he rubs his head.

“I'm sure Law will be more than pleased.” Without a care in the world, he picks another treat from the little buffet you've set up and disappears into the corridor.

Your gaze rests on your bitten onigiri. You are secretly thrilled that he thinks Law will be happy. You wonder if he is looking forward to your current situation in general.

After you surfaced with the Polar Tang, Law and a few others set up the deck. Tables and benches were set up and you and Ikkaku hung up some hanging garlands to make it look more festive. After putting the finishing details on the final appearance, you put your hands on your hips in satisfaction while Law stepped to your side.

“They really don't suspect anything…” he whispers in your ear.

You just smile to yourself. After all, it just seems like you're having a party as usual. The buffet, the decorations, the festive lights and a small bar on the deck are just the same as usual.

Law doesn't know it, but you couldn't help yourself and had to tell Ikkaku about it immediately. After all, she's your best friend. You can definitely trust her not to spill the beans and it shouldn't be too difficult because you're throwing the party today anyway. She even offered to prepare a few desserts. With hearts in your eyes, you accepted her offer, of course.

All in all, it was an evening like any other with your crew. There was laughter, some dancing, a lot of goofing around and singing. Avoiding the alcohol was quite difficult, but luckily Ikkaku was your knight in shining armor. She always swapped your cup with hers, with only water inside, in an discreet fashion.

As the sunset glowed over your submarine and the atmosphere on deck calmed down allowing everyone to enjoy the last rays of sunshine, Law decided that now was the perfect time to spread the news.

He raised his glass and tapped it lightly with his fork so that everyone's attention was drawn to him by the clinking sound.

A few of the pirates look up at him in surprise. It's not that unusual for Law to make a speech from time to time, but there shouldn't be any special reason for him to make one today. Or maybe there is?

Glances go round among themselves. You smile knowingly to yourself as you watch the confusion on their faces.

“Sometimes there are unexpected twists and turns on our travels and sometimes it's the best thing that could have happened to us. In the end, everything always turned out well and that's only because we trusted and helped each other. We may be pirates, but we are also…” - “A FAMILY” Penguin and Sachi cry and shout in unison.

Law's words are unexpectedly touching. His words are always wise and uplifting… but this time he not only speaks from the heart, but with it and everyone is moved to the core.

You could cry because you know why he uses such beautiful words. With a satisfied grin, he agrees with the men.

“Exactly. We are a family and today y/n and I want to announce something to you.” Little by little, questioning glances wander to you and Law nods to you with an encouraging expression on his face. He now leaves you the honor of continuing.

“I'm pregnant!” you blurt out in a squeaky voice.

The looks go back and forth between you two in a rather funny way while the surprise is written all over everyone's face.

All of a sudden, the group erupts into a joyful roar and congratulations are given to you. Ikkaku can finally take you in her arms, her eyes overflowing with tears. A few of the men are shaking hands with Law while Bepo rushes up to Law and almost crushes him in a hug.

Your heart bursts as you watch the cheering crowd and stroke Ikkaku's back in a soothing manner as she utters some incomprehensible words of joy…

In the chaotic happiness, your and Law's eyes met. He seems as happy as you feel.

The atmosphere were already great before, but now it's just amazing.

They raise a toast to both of you and your little one, while Penguin and Shachi fight over which of them gets to listen and feel your belly first. You have to laugh at their goofiness, because there's not much of the typical pregnancy belly to be seen yet.

Bepo comes running towards you with cute beady eyes and gives you a warm embrace. He snuggles up to your head and you brush against his soft fur…

You hear his soft sniffle and in a low voice he whispers to you how happy he is for you guys.

“You're going to be great parents!” You wipe a small tear of joy from his face and pull yourself together so that you don't burst into tears yourself, but you're just too emotional. Your walls collapse and the tears roll down your cheeks.

The rest of the gang decides to come up to you and engages even Law in a huge group hug. It touches you more than anything how happy your friends are for you.

You can hardly wait to tell your friends the Straw Hats. You wonder how they will react. You secretly hope that it will be the reason you'll see each other sooner than you thought.

You really want to go shopping with Ikkaku, Robin and Nami for the baby!

You let the evening fade away together until at some point it was just you and Law.

The evening got a bit chilly and before you could even get cold, Law put his coat around you. Thanking him with a quiet smile, you can still see the joy on his face… And you? You can still hardly believe it. You're going to be parents… but you're still thinking about how Law really feels. He's obviously happy but you wish you could hear what he's thinking.

“Law, tell me, how do you feel?” Your eyes are fixed on the sea. You watch the glittering reflection of the moon in the water, while his gaze rests on you.

“I don't know. I kind of feel everything. Excitement, joy but also some fear.” Your gaze quickly goes up to him, but his eyes are now on the open sea.

The fact that he feels the same as you is somehow reassuring. You're a bit jealous of him for always keeping such a cool head, because unlike you, he seemed so calm and confident the whole time.

“You know y/n, when I went through the results today I could hardly believe my eyes when I realized why you were feeling bad.” With his arms leaning against the railing, he smiled down at you.

“I thought my heart stopped working and when it started beating again, a new feeling was born...” The glimmer in his eyes is as calming as a fire, that is about to fade out.

You are not used to so many touching words and your heart starts beating quicker with each word. The way he says everything is saved in your brain like a video and you dare not to speak a word.

He turns his upper body towards you and moves a little closer to gently brush a strand of hair out of your face. A little hesitantly, he begins to speak again, as if searching for the right words in your eyes.

“A feeling... that I thought I had long lost… The feeling of having a family.”

Okay y/n don't cry. Don't cry!

Law kisses your forehead as he wipes a tear from your face. The feeling of his warm lips disappears faster than you'd like, though, and Law takes a step back to get down on one knee.

With his gaze fixed on your eyes, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small box. You know what this means but you fail to move or say anything. Wide eyed, you follow Law's movements.

“I wanted to do this much earlier… but somehow I didn't find the right time… or maybe I was just waiting for this very moment?” Law isn't quite sure himself where he gets these words from, but so much has changed after today. He opens the box and your gaze falls on the sparkling ring.

“Y/n will you marry me?”

With quivering lips, you nod at him while tears flow like a waterfall and you throw yourself onto him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

You usually have a lot to say, but this time Law has left you completely speechless.

You could have said yes a thousand times but it would never be enough to make it clear how much you want to be his wife.

Masterlist

A/N: Oh well… Law. I bet you'd be great as a dad.

I hope you enjoyed it ♡

#one piece #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar x reader #trafalgar one piece #trafalgar law x y/n #law x reader #trafalgar law #WE ARE GOING TO BE A MOM!#...i wish

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imtryingbuck · 3 months

Text

Worthy

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC!Theo

Summary: Bucky has to marry a woman who surprises him more and more as their story goes along.

Word count: 3,399

Warnings: angst. swearing. Dot. fluff. Bucky tells reader how he lost his arm. Cheating mentioned, miscarriage mentioned.

Masterlist Series Masterlist

When he woke up that morning he laid there watching Theo sleep peacefully, his fingers gingerly stroked up and down her back as she laid on his chest. The morning sun cut through the slit in the curtain landing on her bare arm in an orange purple hue. Those few minutes with him lying there with her in his arms, the whole house silent he had never felt more at peace.

Then he remembered the conversation the night before.

How any person could harm a child is lost on him. How any father let his own child be harmed in such ways that she told him makes him question humanity.

Bucky knew one thing though and that was he was going to make every single one of them pay.

Wanting to do something sweet for her he slid out of the bed carefully to not to wake her up he did his morning routine and headed downstairs going into the kitchen to make her breakfast in bed, coming to a stop when he walked past the living room where he saw someone sitting there.

Dot.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"I wanted to talk to you James"

"We have nothing to talk about, get out of my home"

"Why is your whore of a wife-"

"Call her that one more time I swear to God Dolores I will kill you" His voice low showing her that he was not messing around.

"Do you love her?"

"That's none of your business."

"Does she suck your cock as good as I did?"

"You were shit at it and we both know that"

"That's harsh. Do you know she's been passed around like some cheap whore?"

He blinked once, twice, thrice. What was she talking about? Did she know about what had happened to Theo?

"You didn't, did you?" Dot laughed at his facial expression.

"W-what are you talking about?"

"I got an envelope through my letter box and well let’s just say she's a filthy whore" Dot shrugged, leaning down to pull her bag on to her knees she pulled a large brown envelope out and placed it on the coffee table.

Looking up at Bucky she cocked her eyebrow up "It's all in there"

"Who sent it you?"

"I don't know, listen I know that she's asked her father to let you divorce her why don't you get him to and you can marry one of his other daughters then I can be your mistress"

How?.. what?..

"You seriously have no shame do you? I don't love you Dolores. I don't want you or any of Michael’s daughters other than Theo."

"You'll change your mind once you've read this" tapping the envelope. Though Theo had told him everything last night he couldn't help but be a little bit curious to what was inside, so before his brain could register what was happening his feet carried him over to the coffee table, snatching the brown envelope from under Dot's hand he sat down and opened it.

Inside contained photos of a naked Theo, in most of them she was looking away from the camera but sure enough in every one of them there were bruises and open cuts on her body. There was a list of all the names of the men that had raped her, his stomach churned when he read some of the names. Some of the names, he knew them.

So lost in what he was reading he had no idea that Theo was walking down the stairs, nor did he have any time to react to Dot climbing on his lap before she was kissing him. He was frozen in place only snapping out of it when he heard the door creak.

No, no, no, no, no.

Running after Theo his heart in his throat when he sees her taking her clothes out of her side of the wardrobe, the hollow organ sitting in his chest breaking when he sees a few tears slid down her cheeks.

"A-Angel it wasn't what it looked like" He stutters out truly meaning the words, he didn't even kiss Dolores back. He couldn’t not now he had a wife. He wouldn't do that to her.

"It is fine Mr James"

He swears he was going to have a heart attack as she calls him that. "No it's not, please stop and listen to me so I can explain"

It's like he isn't even in his own body but watching from the side lines, the rest of the conversation is lost on him and when he finally snaps back into reality he sees her leaving their room to go back to her old one. He had no idea how he could fix this with her especially not after she had trusted him enough to let him know about her past, not when he felt the scars that cover most of her body. Not when he touched them so easily, not flinching away from them or looking at them in disgust.

Not when he spoke those words when she was asleep.

"Buck what's going on?" Steve questioned voice full of sleep.

Bucky had woken him up not knowing who to turn to. "Dolores"

"What's she done now?"

Bucky told him everything about what had happened minus telling him what was in the envelope or what Theo had told him the night before. It wasn't his place to say anything.

"Fucking hell. Is Theo okay?"

"Steve I just told you she left our room to go back to hers"

"Did you not try and explain it to her?"

"I did but she wouldn't listen. I don't-"

"What the fuck have you done James?" Wanda stands in the doorway, eyes full of pure hatred as she looks at her best friend.

"Wan-"

"I'm not going to ask again."

"I-nothing I swear"

"So Theo didn't just see you kissing that whore? Are you seriously calling my friend a liar?"

"I didn't kiss her!" he shouted "And you seem to forget she's my fucking wife Wanda!"

Rolling her eyes she went to say something but closed her lips again, shaking her head she left as quickly as she came.

"I think she's mad" Steve says trying to lighten to mood earning him a warning look from Bucky.

Over the next week Bucky tried to get her to talk to him and all he received was 'It's okay Mr James' or a head shake. Wanda and Nat had kept their distance from him too, when Nat had found out she pulled a gun on Bucky. She lowered it when he didn't flinch or pull his out on her, she knew he was telling the truth about him not kissing Dolores back. Dolores kept coming back to the house even though Bucky told the guards to make sure she's not let in, which was making the brunette furious.

Bucky had sent Nat a text asking her to come down into the office, needing to talk to her and since both redheads had been upstairs with Theo it was his only way of getting Nat to talk to him. The other day he had gone up and knocked on Theo's bedroom door he was greeted by a still very angry Wanda, who wasn't believing him or Nat, she slammed the door in his face that hard he even flinched.

"What's up?" Nat asked as she strolled into the office.

"I-Is Theo okay? Is she eating? Sleeping?"

"Buck she's fine, me and Wanda are looking after her"

"It should be me"

Sighing, Nat sat down in the seat across from him. "Buck she did walk in on you and that thing kissing-"

"I didn't kiss her back Natasha! I swear-"

"I know and that's why I didn't shoot your dick off" she raised her eyebrow and smirked "You've just got to give her some time Bucky, it's one thing after another and she feels-" Nat quickly cuts herself off.

"Feels what?"

"Nothing, just give her some time"

"Feels what Natasha? Please, please tell me"

"She feels like she isn't worthy to be loved"

Bucky's face dropped, it was the exact expression that both her and Wanda had on their faces when Theo whispered it to them. "W-what?"

"She said it's okay and that she's accepted this life an-and-" shaking her head she knew it was wrong to be telling him the things Theo had whispered to them in secret, but she believed Bucky when he said he never kissed Dolores back.

"And? What?"

"I-I think you should talk to her Bucky, I've already said to much"

"Wanda won't let me"

"Grow up James. Like you keep saying she's your wife. Go!"

Jumping up out of his seat he ran to the door before turning around to jog back over to Nat and placing a kiss to her head which earned him a smack. Running up the stairs he stopped outside of Theo's bedroom door to catch him breath. Knocking beforehand he walked in the room.

"Get out James!" Wanda shouted.

"She's my wife Wanda, I need to talk to her."

"No-"

"Wanda it's okay" Theo interrupted Wanda, who looked at Theo with a look as if to ask her if she was sure, she nodded and helped Wanda stand.

"Hurt her one more time James I won't hesitate to kill you" Theo shut the door behind her friend and turned to face Bucky, gulping and twiddling her fingers she waited for Bucky to say something.

"T-Theo I'm so sorry for what you saw but it wasn't what it looked like, Dolores kissed me as I was reading something she gave me b-but I swear Angel I didn't kiss her back!"

"It's okay-"

"No it isn't! Stop saying that it is, please. Please scream at me or-or hit me please just do anything other than say it's okay"

"I won't hit you" She frowned with a slight head shake "My father won't agree to a divorce unless you ask Mr James-"

"I don't want a divorce Theo"

"B-but the scars..."

"They don't bother me Angel, fuck I've got my own, look" pulling his shirt down enough so she could see the scars on his chest/shoulder "I have them too so who am I to judge?"

"Oh-l, I will continue being your wife and you can date that woman from the other day but you will h-have to sleep with one of my father's daughters so you can have an heir, I pro-"

"Theo-"

"I promise I'll stay out of the way, jus-"

"Theo-"

"Just please promise me that I won't get hurt by none of your men" This time she doesn't get cut off by him and when she finds the courage to look up to him her heart tugs when she sees the tears gathering in his eyes.

"You-um-you think I wou-no Angel, no to all of that! I only want you I don't want Dolores, I don't want any of the brats your father calls daughters, if I am lucky enough to have children you will be the mother. None of my our men will ever lay a hand on you, I will never let anyone hurt you again, I won't hurt you again. That I swear and promise you until my last breath"

Though she heard every word he spoke, took in every word he spoke she couldn't help but question "Why?"

And though he had his reasons, mainly because he didn't want to end up like his father, he couldn't stop the words from spilling out. It was so much easier when she was asleep on his chest, right next to his beating heart. "Because I love you"

He hated the way she flinched at those words.

"W-why?"

"I know it's way too soon to be feeling these kind of feelings, believe me I do but I-I do Theo and that's the truth. I love you. You are worthy of it Angel, it isn't just me that loves you Wanda and Nat do too, even the guys do. Please let me show you, please don't think you're not worth love or affection because you are-"

A loud sob cuts him off. He doesn't wastes any time in moving closer to her and wrapping his arms around her trembling body. "I'm sorry" he whispers over and over into her hair.

"I-I-I'm not good eno-enough for you James or anyone"

"You're enough. Theo, you're enough"

What happens next shocks the both of them.

Theo leans on her tiptoes and places her lips to his.

Her first ever kiss.

Bucky knew he shouldn't do it because she's got tears streaming down her cheeks, she's confused, she's emotional but fuck she's kissing him. He can't stop himself from kissing her back.

Pulling away from one another slightly out of breath Bucky rested his forehead against hers, smiling at her when she looks up at him.

"Wa-was tha-that okay?" Theo asked shyly.

"It was perfect Angel"

"It wa-was my first kiss" she admitted a light blush coating her cheeks.

"Really? Baby it was perfect"

Theo goes to open her mouth closing it quickly at the noise from outside her door.

"Shut up! I'm trying to list-ow Nat my head!" Sam hissed a muffled cry after a bang on the door startles Theo.

"You shut up. Did she just say a first kiss? Holy shit did they just kiss?" That was Nat's voice.

"Both of you shut up!" This time it was Steve's voice being heard.

"Do you think they're kissing again? Oh god what if they're having sex and we're just listening like creeps!" Wanda's voice turned to panic when she thought that the couple in the room could be doing something that she really did not want to be listening in on.

Shaking his head Bucky had to force himself not to laugh, leaning to whisper into Theo's ear "I bet they're leaning against the door, should I open it so they fall in?"

"No, they might hurt themselves" She whispered back trying really hard not to laugh.

"I bet they're kissing" At hearing Sam's failed attempt to whisper slip through the door Theo looked at Bucky and nodded, giving him the go ahead to open the door. Giving her a gentle kiss on her lips, and another, and another before finally sneaking over towards the door. Hand slowly going to the door handle he looked at Theo and winked.

Sam was the first one to fall in, Nat landing on top of him, Steve on top of her and Wanda landing on the blonde.

"Ow fuck! Nat get off you're fucking heavy! Ow ow stop hitting me!"

"Steve's on me you dickhead!"

"Wanda's on me so I can't move-ow shit what is it with you women hitting people?"

"You've just basically called me fat Steven!"

"Are you guys finished? Me and Theo would like to get past you"

"Help us up then please!" Sam begged.

"Why were you listening to us anyway?" Bucky asked completely ignoring Sam making grabby hands to him.

"Who-what-we-never" Steve stuttered out trying to get Wanda off of him gently not wanting to tear the stitches open.

"Who-what-we-never" Bucky mocked. "We heard you"

"No you didn't, you're just imagining things Bucky" Sam says "I've accepted my fate by the way guys not that any of you care"

"What are you talking about?"

"Well Natasha none of you are getting up off me so l lay here on the ground being squashed to death by my so called family"

Everyone apart from Theo rolls their eyes at Sam's dramatics, Theo tries to move forward to help Wanda off Steve when Bucky's hand stops her. "Leave them, come here."

"But they need help"

"Nope, they'll figure it out soon" picking Theo up he smiles when she squeals, Bucky walks them over to the door and quite literally steps over the four bodies of his friends on the floor.

"Oh that's so fucking cold man"

Taking Theo into the living room he placed her gently onto the couch, there was a small bar sitting at the back of the room Bucky made his way over to it pouring a drink for himself he asked Theo if she wanted one she shook her head, no.

They sat in comforting silence before Theo broke it.

"James... can I ask you something?"

"Of course"

"W-what happened to your arm?" She knew he had a metal arm, at first it startled her not expecting it but now finding it pretty and unique.

Taking his glass, he knocks the rest of his drink back. "My father, piece of shit as you've already probably picked up on. My ma was pregnant with her third kid but miscarried when she was around four or five months." The memory of his mother stumbling down the stairs bottom half covered in blood, her hands shaking and tears rolling down her face. Martha running around ordering the other maids to grab things or to take him and Rebecca upstairs, makes his heart beat a little faster.

Clearing his throat "My ma had found out my father had a mistress. I'm not a doctor but I think that's what caused my ma to lose the baby. Anyway ma needed sometime away as she was really struggling, she went to my aunt's house in Louisiana for three weeks. My father brought his mistress into the home, he actually picked her up after we dropped ma off at the airport" chuckling, he loosened his tie "Three weeks of having to hear obvious fake moans and me looking after Becks because my father gave all the maids three weeks off so they wouldn't tell my ma." Getting up he walks over to the bar he pours himself another drink. Sitting back down he continues.

"The day came for when my ma was coming home, we was on our way to get her from the airport and the prick and his whore was arguing, if I remember correctly it was because she wanted him to leave my mother but he kept saying he wouldn't do it, she grabbed the steering wheel and pulled it towards her, he managed to get the car stable but then she did it again. It was pouring down so the roads were slippery" Taking a deep breath in "Then the car rolled off down the road and went straight down a ditch. I put my arm out in front of Rebecca, my arm got pinned. They both got out, and were actually more bothered about getting their story straight than trying to get a twelve and eight year old out of the car. You know Tony Stark? Well he was in the car behind us, he was the one who rang for help. I begged the fire fighters to get Becks out first but th-they didn't... I woke up in the hospital six days later and my arm was gone"

"James… I’m so sorry"

"Don't apologies Angel, please. It is what it is"

"D-did you ever tell your mother what happened?"

"Yeah, when I woke up I told her straight away. Broke her heart even more. They separated for about two years and for some reason she got back with him, I was so pissed at her but then I found out it wasn't because she loves him but for the money"

"That's... I-"

"I know ah, but yeah Tony was working on prosthetics and a few months later he met up with my ma and next thing I know I'm being fitted with this" he turns his arm around to show her "I had to get it upgraded a few times"

"It's pretty"

"Pretty? You really think so?"

"Yes, is it heavy?"

"At first it was but I'm used to it now so"

"C-can I touch it?"

"Of course"

"Do-do you feel anything?"

"I do, not very often though" Bucky sat there watching Theo's finger slowly move up and down on his arm, it felt like she was trickling a feather up and down the metal prosthetic.

Later that night Bucky had Theo back in his their bed, after sharing a few more kisses and shy blushes from Theo, they let sleep over take them.

Bucky slept peacefully for the first time in just over a week now that he had his Angel in his arms.

Tags: @sapphirebarnes @bellabarnes1378 @unaxv @skulliecadaver-blog @mrsnikstan @sebastians-love @pattiemac1 @julvrs @undf-stuff

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catierambles · 8 months

Text

Blood Moon Ch.2

Pairing: Syverson x Annalisa Caulfield (OFC)

Warnings: uhh business speak? mentions of covid? idfk

She was gone when he woke the next morning, a folded up piece of paper on the nightstand with her number scrawled inside. Smiling, he grabbed his phone, punching in the number and holding the phone to his ear. It rang for a bit before picking up.

“Annalisa.”

“Hey.”

“Good morning.” Her voice had gone from professional to soft and it made his smile widen.

“When'd you leave?”

“Shortly after dawn.” She said, “Didn't want to wake you. How'd you sleep?”

“Better than I have in a while.” Sy admitted, “They get that thing figured out?”

“Yeah.” She said, “Some overly entitled trust fund baby was pulling the whole “do you know who my father is?” and trying to get special treatment at Pendulum.”

“Ah.”

“He also brought drugs into my club, which we do not allow for obvious reasons.” She said, “He just needed to be reminded that he's a very small fish in a very big pond.”

“You ain't in the mob, are you? The kid ain't wearing concrete boots in the river, is he?” He asked and she gave a soft laugh.

“No, Sy, I'm not in the mob.” She said, “He was delivered to the police along with all the drugs he had on his person. I doubt he'll face any real consequences, but now he knows where we stand.”

“Any plans for today?”

“Working with distributors for the clubs, mainly.” She said with a sigh, “Reasonably certain we're getting gouged by one of them, so I need to go over the most recent invoices, compare them against prior. You?”

“I haven't been able to get a job since leavin' the service. No one wants to hire a vet, apparently, so I just hang out all day.”

“Do you want to come over? I can send you my address.” She suggested, “I'm not going to be the most entertaining person in the world while I do this, but it's something.”

“Yeah, send me your address.” He said and his phone buzzed against his head a moment later. “Switchin' gears. Last night was...really nice.”

“Yeah, it was.” She said and he could hear the smile in her voice. “Not what I thought would happen when I came to your rescue, but I'm not complaining.” The tone came through that he was getting another call and he pulled his phone away, looking at the screen and seeing his brothers number.

“Hey.” He said, putting it back to his ear, “My brother is callin' me. I'll call you back when I'm on my way over?”

“Okay.” She said and they said their goodbyes quickly, Sy accepting the other call before it went to voicemail.

“What's up, Pete?” He asked.

“You wanna tell me why your ex is blowin' up my phone about some chick named Annalisa?” Pete asked and Sy gave a growling sigh, running a hand over his face.

“Jesus fuckin' Christ.” He said, “Okay, here's the deal.” He told him everything that happened last night at the bar, from Tiffany approaching him to Annalisa coming to his rescue. He didn't tell him that he took her back to his place, because he really didn't need to know that.

“Ain't it usually reversed?” Pete asked.

“Apparently I make an appealin' Damsel in Distress.” Sy said and Pete snorted, “Anyway, that's what happened and Tiffany is havin' an aneurysm at the thought that I moved on.”

“I told you she was wacked.” Pete said.

“I know, I know.” Sy said, “Shove it with the “I Told You So”s.”

“Have you, though?" Pete asked, "Moved on? Because, fuck, Kyle. I saw what Tiffany did to you and what she put you through. We all did."

"Yeah." Sy said, "And yeah, I think I have. I dunno, Petey, there's somethin' about her. Annalisa, I mean. She's just...fuck."

"Yeah." Pete said with a chuckle, "That's how I felt when I met Beth. Like I got sucker punched and I was down for the count. Can't wait to meet the lady who laid you out." Out of all his brothers, only one wasn't married with a pack of kids. Military life had made that difficult for him, and his youngest brother was too busy being a shithead to settle down. They talked for a bit more before saying their goodbyes and Sy laid in bed a bit longer, staring up at the ceiling. His phone rang and he looked at the screen, but declined the call when he saw who it was. He may not have her number saved in his contacts anymore, but he still knew it.

Getting up, he walked naked into the bathroom to shower, closing the bathroom door as his phone started to ring again.

Leaning forward, he looked out the windshield at the gothic manor that rose up in front of him, double checking the GPS on his phone. Yeah, this was the place. Parking in the circular parking lot, there only one other car there, a dark SUV. Getting out, he looked down the hill, the town stretched out below. Hell of a view, that's for certain.

Heading up to the front door made of heavy wood, he gave a solid knock. It opened a moment later and he felt the smile stretch over his face that was reflected on hers.

“Hi!” She mouthed and pointed at the ear piece she had in one ear. “Yeah, I know the market's been shit, Jack. Doesn't mean you have to be.” Sy snorted, following her into the house and closing the door behind him. It was richly furnished in carved dark wood and furniture that looked older than his grandma, but was still in immaculate condition.

At her beckon, he followed her up the stairs and into an office, one side taken up by a large heavy desk with two monitors on top, the tower probably hidden below. A plush couch sat against one wall and he sank down onto it as she went over to the desk.

“COVID hit all of the entertainment and hospitality sectors hard, you're not a special case. Fact of the matter is—fact of the matter is and don't interrupt me, I compared invoices from just after restrictions were lifted, not before lockdown, to the most recent you sent us and it's gone up dramatically. Did you think we wouldn't notice?” Kicking off his boots, he swung his legs up on the couch, sinking down into the comfortable cushions further.

His phone went off in his pocket and he dug it out, declining the call and blocking the number. Maybe that would force the hint into her brain.

“You're out, Jack. We're dropping you as a distributor effective immediately. Oh yes, I know we have a legally binding contract good for another five years, but you violated that contract. Would you like to whip it out and read the fine print? Let me save you the hassle, I have it memorized. Clause number one: the quality of the product delivered will stay on par with the quality given upon initial agreement. Clause number two: the price of the goods delivered—what did I say about interrupting me—the price of the goods delivered will stay on par with market average within a margin of five percent. Jack, you've been charging us fifteen percent above market average for watered down swill in a fancy bottle, and don't you dare try to frame it as you were doing us a service because it means the patrons would have to buy more. We have a reputation of quality and integrity to maintain, and you have damaged that reputation.” She paused, a look of annoyance crossing over her features. “You are aware that your company is public, yes? That means I have access to your shareholder meeting notes. Record sales and a sixty percent increase in revenue compared to last quarter? Is that ringing a bell? You're sourcing shit product and charging your clients more for it so you can buy another villa in the Bahamas. You're done. Even if you violated one of those clauses, you would be done, but you broke both. Oh, don't worry about me, Jack. I already have another distributor lined up. Better quality and ten percent below market average. It's a better deal all around. No I'm not going to tell you who, are you joking? But you should worry about yourself, because I will be letting my network know not to do business with you and why. It's nothing personal, Jackie, it's just business. You will be paid in full for the latest shipment, but we will no longer be placing orders with you and any gratis shipments will be returned unopened. Toodles!” Touching the earpiece, she ended the call and sat down heavily in the executive chair behind the desk. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Sy said, standing from the couch and heading over to the desk. “It was kinda hot watchin' you rip that guy a new one.”

“Yeah?” She asked with a snort, looking up at him as he turned the chair to face him, leaning over with his hands on the arms. “I'm glad you came over.”

“So am I.” He said, “Annalisa—”

“Annie, if you want.”

“Annie.” He said softly, “What happened last night don't feel like a one and done thing.”

“I wouldn't have offered that you come over if I thought it was.”

“I get that feelin'.” He said, “I wanna spend more time with you, while you're workin' or whatever, I don't mind. Call me clingy, but I wanna be around you.”

“Again, I wouldn't have invited you over if I didn't want to be around you.” She said and he gave a soft smile, reaching up to hold the side of her jaw before leaning down, pressing his lips to hers. Her eyes closed as she held his wrist gently, leaning into his kiss. She suddenly pulled away, touching the piece in her ear. “Annalisa. Yeah, Eugene, I just got off the phone with him.” Sy pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead before pulling away, heading back to the couch. “Of course he was pissed, but it's not our fault he didn't read the fine print before signing.”

#henry cavill #captain syverson #blood moon

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silentglassbreak · 8 months

Text

Anonymous

Noah Sebastian x OFC

Here's the 3rd part. Hoping to also get this one up quick. This story is really coming together in my head. Also, I know I promised smut, and so far have not delivered. That is coming, pinkly promise. We've got to get the foundation man!

Warnings: Alcohol abuse, overall abuse, mild violence (ie. bar fights), smut, swearing, and altogether just a lot of fuckery.

+It goes without saying. This is a work of fiction. My words are mine. Plagiarism is a crime.

Part 3 - The Grey

Sleep was a wild idea, given everything I had learned last night. I couldn't seem to quit scrolling through Google, YouTube, listening. I felt as though I was educating myself. Learning, in some way, what I was getting into. I wanted to see what I could learn about him, but he was an overall private human, even for a musician.

I did learn he is a Scorpio, born on Halloween. Originally from Virginia. The names of his bandmates. He had quite a few wonderful songs that I had added to my iTunes quickly after hearing them. So far, my favorite was Limits, which was saying a lot, given Just Pretend was still so incredible.

Throughout all of my 'research', the most important fact I learned was that Noah was very good at hiding his alcoholism. I expected to see articles, tweets, or even a TikTok about some scandal. An arrest? A fight? A drunken performance? I found nothing.

I suspect Noah is what I consider a silent drunk. Someone who doesn't drink for fun, but for release. For something to escape to. This had to be true, because I found zero evidence of his addiction on social media or in the depths of Google. I even shamelessly searched 'Noah Sebastian alcoholic' and came up with some very strange fanfiction. Interesting thought...

This almost worried me more. This meant I was going into this blind. The rockstar lifestyle was something not only musicians lived. So how did he manage to do it so quietly? Was his publicist just that good? Did he even have one?

Despite my determination, sleep finally took hold about 4AM, me waking up at noon with the videos of their music still playing on YouTube. I slammed my laptop closed and wiped the drool from my lips.

I needed caffeine.

I slipped into my house slippers, and sauntered to the kitchen, Angel following behind. I heard his quiet whine, and quickly paced to the back door to let him out before he had an accident.

Once I had slurped down half of my energy drink and let Angel back in, I snatched my phone from my bedside table. Sitting on the edge of my bed, I checked through my notifications.

Given it was my day off, I wasn't surprised to see a text from Sam asking if I wanted to come in and help him with his case files. I didn't even open it. That should answer that question.

I opened my messages to reach out to Laura. Her and I needed to speak immediately.

Before I could open her thread, I noticed a message from Noah, which made my throat dry.

Noah: Hollywood Palladium. Doors open at 6PM, but you should get there about 5 to get into your suite. I'll text you once I get offstage and we can figure out how you'll smuggle me out. We go on before Motionless in White.

Noah: Thank you again, Leena. I know this is a pain for you.

This guy isn't actually real. He is sweet as honey. Smooth as butter. And wakes up at 6:30AM, apparently? Who the fuck is this guy?

Me: I'll be there. I haven't told Laura yet. Pray for me.

His response came quickly.

Noah: Our Father, who art in heaven. Hallowed be thy name...

I only responded with laughing emojis and flipped to Laura's thread.

Me: Can you talk?

This was our code. She was working and if she was busy, she would respond. If she wasn't, she'd call.

My phone vibrated in my hand immediately.

"Hey." My voice was a fucking mess. I realized I hadn't used it at all yet.

"What the fuck is up, Kyle? You getting sick?" I cleared my throat and sighed.

"No. Just woke up."

"Late night? You doing okay?" I could hear the concern. 3 years sober, didn't mean it wasn't still something to keep an eye on.

"Yeah babe, I'm good. I need to fucking talk to you, though."

"Sure, what's going on?"

I sighed, not even knowing how to begin. I couldn't exactly tell her the lead singer of one of her favorite bands was a newly recovering alcoholic. Not without permission.

"I uh..." My brain drew a blank. "have not thought this through."

The other end was silent.

"You sure you're okay?"

I sighed hard. "I met Noah Sebastian."

Now there was dead silence on the phone.

"I'm so fucking sorry, I've lost my mind. Can you repeat that?" Her voice was deadly.

"You heard me."

"Noah Sebastian? From Bad Omens?!" I could hear her voice raising some octaves.

"Yeah a few days ago."

"Fucking where?!" I had to hold the phone at a distance from my ear.

"At...my work." My brain worked overtime to work out this lie.

"I call bullshit." She is too good at seeing through me.

"Laura, would you fucking listen?"

"Noah Sebastian did not walk into a fucking mortgage office and just happen to meet my best friend, the loan officer. Bullshit."

"Laura, listen!"

"Fuck! Fine! What?!" I could feel her irritation.

"I have tickets to their show tonight. In their VIP booth."

"Did you help him buy a house or some shit?!" That actually wasn't bad.

"Possibly. Still up in the air."

"You're such a fucking liar."

"Do you want to go or not? We'll be seeing him after."

I could feel her jaw drop to the floor. "We're going to meet the band?"

"No, not the band. I don't think. Just Noah."

"Just Noah? Christ Mileena, did you fuck him or something?!"

"Absolutely not! Laura what the hell?!"

"What?? You don't even listen to Bad Omens." I scoffed at that.

"I fucking do now."

After a solid hour of interrogatories from Laura, planning on getting to the event (I would drive, obviously) and what we would wear, we finally hung up.

I had about three and a half hours before I had to leave to pick her up. I had enough time for a walk with Angel, lunch, and to get ready.

When Angel and I set out on the sidewalk, and I had set up my AirPods (3 guesses who I was listening to), my phone chimed with a text. I groaned. Didn't we get through enough details?

When I saw the text though, I was surprised to see Noah's name.

Noah: Hey, weird request, but could I call you for like ten minutes?

I was puzzled, but typed a quick affirmative response.

My phone rang a few moments later.

"Hello?"

"Hey, I'm sorry." His immediate apology confused me.

"Sorry for what?" I could hear him chuckle, his voice slightly hushed.

"Calling. I know it's weird." I half-smiled. There was a level of innocence to Noah that made me feel better about this entire situation.

"Noah, I'm your sponsor. You're allowed to call me any time, day or night."

"But what if I call you at 3AM cause I'm craving sugar?"

I shook my head, weaving down the sidewalk with Angel heeling nicely at my left.

"Then we go get ice cream?"

I could hear the smile in his voice. "No way. You don't mean that."

I proudly responded. "Wouldn't be the first time."

He only snorted in response. I did wonder why he needed to call.

"Are you okay?"

"Mm, yeah. We're at the venue. Did sound check a while ago. The guys cracked open some beers. I told them I was going to take a quick walk to get some air. I feel like they might know something." His concern was thick in his words.

"Ah, okay. Well, super proud of you for walking away. That's amazing on it's own."

"Yeah?" He sounded unsure.

"Oh, one hundred percent."

"Thanks Leena." He sighed. His voice then came out a little smoother. "Did you talk to Laura?"

"I did."

"And how did that go?"

I smirked. "Well, she doesn't believe that I met you at work, so now she's got horrific ideas of how I met you, but she's in."

This made him laugh. "Horrific like how?!"

"I won't repeat it. But either way, she doesn't know how we actually know each other. I'm struggling to figure out how I'm going to explain us giving you a ride home?"

He was quiet, my guess was thinking. "How well do you know her?"

"Better than anyone, why?"

"You trust her?"

"With my life."

"Tell her. It's easier that way. Just maybe ask we don't all chat about it?" This took me back. As private as he is, and he doesn't even know me that well? Why trust me, or someone I trust, with this secret? His reputation is somewhat on the line.

"You sure?"

"Should I not be?"

I sighed. "I wouldn't risk your good name Noah. I promise."

"Thanks Leena." I heard muffled voices in the background. "Hey, I've got to go. See you later?"

I agreed, and we disconnected the call.

The ride to the venue was mostly quiet, aside from the soft music on the radio playing.

"So...anything else I should know before we walk in there? Ronnie Radke isn't going to be hanging with us too, is he?"

I chuckled at this.

"Listen babe, I've got to tell you something."

She lifted her eyebrow in a knowing look. "Knew you were lying."

I shrugged. "Look, I'm going to tell you this, but this is covert level secrecy. No one can know. Or Noah is fucked. So promise me? Not even your husband gets to know?"

Her look turned more serious.

"Of course babe. Anything."

"I'm Noah's sponsor." Her jaw dropped open, almost unnaturally so.

"He's in AA too?" I nodded.

"He just started. And he needed a sponsor. I offered. He needed help getting through this show and the after party. So he's going to pretend to be sick after, meet us backstage, and we're going to smuggle him out and drive him home."

I could see the wheels in her head turning. She believed me now. She knew I never lied about AA.

"Oh my God, babe." She shook her head. "I'm so sorry. I pried too hard. Jesus, I feel like an asshole."

I waved her off. "Don't, my love. He gave me permission to tell you." She nodded at that, sitting back in her seat.

After a beat, she giggled to herself. "You sure are the luckiest sponsor ever." That made me laugh. I wasn't so sure yet.

The show was electric. The man on stage, singing, was a different person entirely. If it weren't for the fact that he made direct eye contact with me several times throughout the night, I would've never believed him to be the same shy, unsure, uncomfortable man he was in group. On stage, he was confident, he was in control, he was the leader, and the crowd, his flock. It was insane to watch, and I would be lying if I hadn't said I felt absolutely mystified at points. I teared up when they played Just Pretend, vehemently singing along. This was not lost on him, and I caught the smirk he got when he saw my glassy-eyed singing. No different than any other fan. That's okay, that's who I was for now.

We were to not be seen or noticed. We were shadows waiting to seamlessly remove him.

Once the set ended, and everyone waited for Motionless in White to come out, moving in and out of their seats toward the bars and bathrooms, Laura and I followed the security guard who had been told to allow us backstage.

I checked my phone a few times, but still had not heard from him. As we made our way to the meet and greet area, we saw the giant line of fans waiting for their band to show up. We slyly waited against a wall behind the line. We blended in.

"Have you heard from him?" I checked my phone again with no results.

"No, but I would bet he has to do meet and greet first. I don't strike him as the type to disappoint fans."

She nodded in agreement, so we waited.

After about twenty minutes, we heard screaming, and looked over to see them come out, waving at everyone waiting in line. I saw his eyes searching. Was he looking for us?

Pulling out my phone, I shot a quick message.

Me: By the trash cans.

He was talking to a girl with his face on her shirt when he slipped his phone from his pocket and his eyes immediately scanned and found mine. The smallest hint of a smile lifted his lips. I saw him turn his back for a moment, and turning back to sign autographs

Noah: Thought I lost you. M&G will be over in 45min. Meet me in the parking lot?

I sent a thumbs up, instructed Laura of our plans, and we began our trek to the car. Once in the car, I sent a quick location pin to him so he could find us. I got a response a few minutes later.

Noah: Just look for the ancient Tahoe. Roger that.

I rolled my eyes, and despite Laura watching her concert videos, she noticed.

"What?" I showed her my phone, and she smiled.

"Well, he's funny, huh?" I nodded.

"An absolute dork." She bit her lip, turning in my seat.

"Leena?" I looked up at her from my phone screen, looking at my own videos.

"Hmm?"

"Do you like him?" I paid little attention to the question.

"Oh sure, he's a nice guy." She put her hand on my shoulder, making me give her my full attention.

"No, Mileena," she pushed my phone down. "do you like him?"

This made me scoff. "Laura, I barely know him!"

"What's to know? He's a singer in a near famous band. He's got the voice of an angel. He's adorable." This made me roll my eyes again.

"I'm his sponsor." She threw her hands up.

"Is it illegal?" I shook my head.

"No, but it's awful and would make me a terrible human. And I work very hard to be a good human."

She narrowed her eyes at me. "I don't believe that, but okay. I respect it." I smiled at her.

"Thank you Laura."

"But I still think you like him."

I was silent in response, not amused by her pushing.

“He has a girlfriend anyway, Laura.”

I watched her eyes nearly bug out of her head. “He does?!”

“Yeah, he told me yesterday.” I could see the disbelief on her face.

“I’ve never heard that. What’s her name?” I sighed, thinking back to our conversation the day before.

“He…didn’t say? Just mentioned he had one, and she didn’t know about AA yet.”

Her lips pursed. “Not buying it.”

This made my eyes widen.

“What?”

“He has a girlfriend but doesn’t even tell you her name? And doesn’t tell her he’s made a life changing decision to get well? I’m not buying.”

I rolled my eyes. “Christ, Laura, you’ve got trust issues.”

She pointed at me. “Facts. But it doesn’t change the fact that I don’t believe it.” She sat back in her seat.

“I’ll just ask him when he gets here, no worries.”

This caused a flood of panic through me. “Please don’t! He’s not the type to talk about personal stuff. He’s actually pretty withdrawn.”

Her blank expression was telling. “Noah? Noah Sebastian? The guy who just went absolutely insane on that stage? Is withdrawn? Mhm, sure.”

I sat back in my chair and groaned.

“Please? That’s his personal business.”

She nodded. “Fine, but you should ask him.”

I didn’t respond, attention now on the text I had from him saying he was headed our way. I started the car, ready for a quick getaway.

After about ten minutes, I saw his tall frame in the doorway of the elevator, jogging over to the car. I snuck a glance at Laura, who looked as though she may absolutely burst.

“Here comes the rockstar.” She let out in a sing-song voice.

The back left door opened, and he slid inside the seat quickly, buckling his seatbelt and running his fingers through his long, and now greasy, hair.

“Hey!” My voice was about three pitches higher for truly no reason at all. This was not lost on my best friend, whose eyes I saw flash over to be before turning around and looking at Noah, eyes absolutely bulging.

“Jesus, it’s like trying to escape a wild pack of hyenas!” He sat back and sighed heavily as my truck backed out of the space and began moving down the aisle. “I mean the guys, not the fans.”

I looked up in my rearview. “Did you do like we talked about?”

“Yes. Made sure to gag as loudly as possible and everything.” I could see the smile crinkling the corners of his eyes.

He turned his attention to Laura, holding out his hand. “I’m so rude, I’m sorry.” She took his hand, looking absolutely stunned. “I’m Noah.”

All I heard from her was a weak ‘Laura’ in response.

Once we hit the darkened streets, putting the venue behind us, the tension in the truck relaxed.

I looked up in my mirror again, catching Noah’s attention.

“Do you mind if I drop Laura home first? She’s got to get up early for work tomorrow and her house isn’t very far.”

He smiled. “Of course. I’m all the way in Calabasas, so no worries at all.”

I just nodded. The ride was smooth for a moment, until I heard the familiar ring of an iPhone. It was Noah’s.

“Hello?” I couldn’t hear the voice from the other end. “Hey babe.”

Laura’s face whipped over to me, I’m sure seeing my expression darken ever so slightly.

“Yeah, I’ll be okay. I’m not sure what happened, but I started feeling off before the set and by the end, I was throwing up.” He waited for the response. “No, uh…” he hesitated. “I actually haven’t drank at all today.”

Something in my chest swelled. I was such a proud sponsor. He was making an effort, and all I could do was appreciate it.

He nervously laughed. “Yeah, right? Shocking, I know.”

I could hear his tone. It broke my heart for him. I knew that conversation, I had many myself. When people don’t believe you haven’t been drinking, or are shocked to hear it. They’ll even go so far as to get angry at you for quitting. It’s a long, torturous road he’s set down, but hopefully with the right support, he will stay on track.

“Well I just caught an Uber, and I’m going to go home and pass out. Try to get over it.”

I made a conscious effort not to look at him, doing my best to respect his privacy. I could see Laura doing the same, scrolling through her phone.

“Yeah, uh, maybe we should wait until Monday? Make sure I’m not contagious, and all that?” His voice almost sounded brightened, but I was likely imagining things.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But do you want to catch this crap?” He made a sound of approval. “Thought so. I’m almost home so I’ll talk to you later babe.” He wasn’t, but okay. “Mhm, I love you too.” Slight poke to the abdomen. Nothing to worry about. “Bye.”

My hands relaxed slightly on the wheel. No one spoke for a little while. I could see his eyes just watching the streetlights fly past the window. He almost looked sad, but I couldn’t piece together why exactly. I could guess, however, that this is harder than he initially anticipated. It always is.

Laura shared my concern, so she spoke up.

“The show tonight was awesome, Noah! Better than the one back in November!”

This sure perked him, making him sit up in his seat. “Yeah? Thank you for saying that.”

“Oh fuck yeah, dude! Watching you guys play is spiritual, honestly.” This made him crack a wide grin.

I felt a poke on my shoulder, causing me to look up.

“What’d you think Leena? How was your first Bad Omens show?” I could see him searching for my answer, but he’s not the only one who could be a smartass.

I waved my hand in a topsy-turvy fashion. “It was alright.”

“Oh shut the fuck up, you cried during Just Pretend.” Laura was triumphantly smiling.

She’s so dead.

My cheeks were getting warmer, and I instinctively cracked my window. When did it get so hot in here?

Noah let out a giggle, an actual fucking giggle. “I thought I saw that.”

“Dude, how can you see anything up there? Fire? Smoke? Lights?”

He shook his head dismissively and flopped back in his seat. “Please. I can see anything if I’m looking for it.”

His words rang out followed by silence. Laura’s face was deadpanned.

What the fuck does that mean? In a literal sense, I get what he meant but wow, what an innuendo to make. Unintentionally, I’m sure.

The context wasn’t lost on Noah, who only cleared his throat, not speaking another word.

Luckily, we were already cruising down Laura’s street, stopping in front of her driveway.

“Welp, this is my stop.” She turned to look in the backseat. “Thank you so much for the concert. It really was awesome.”

This earned her a grateful head nod from him. “Anytime.”

She wouldn’t be forgetting that.

“I love you babes, call me tomorrow?” She wrapped an arm around me while I agreed to her request. She hopped out of the car and within seconds, she was gone.

“You want to stay back there, or hop up front?”

Without answering, a long leg reached over my console, plopping Noah in the passenger’s seat. I stared at him incredulously while he beamed at me.

I shook my head and put the truck back in drive, waiting for him to direct me to his house.

#noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens #fanfic

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whatsnewalycat · 1 year

Text

Psychomanteum / Chapter 13

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x OFC Louella (2nd POV)

Chapter 13: Lunacy Fringe

Chapter Summary: You and Dieter spend the day at the beach.

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Word Count: 9.2k+

Content / Warnings: alternating pov, grief, heart-to-heart, fluff, angst, smut, swearing, blood, cannabis use, cliffhanger, public sex, poverty mention, infertility mention near-death experiences, unprotected piv sex, ocean

Notes: Chapter title from “Lunacy Fringe” by The Used. Hmmmm let’s see. Idk if you know this, but I am employed now after like 16 months being a full-time student and SAHM, so I’m in a bit of an ~ adjustment ~ period and might take a bit longer to post things, but time will tell lol. This is a very soft chapter, I hope you like it. Let me know what ya think 🖤✨

[ Previous Chapter ][ Series Masterlist ][ Spotify Playlist ]

Despite your initial trepidation in doing the DIRT interview, and how disastrous it actually wound up being, Darlene reported to you and Dieter that public feedback has been generally positive. As all three of you expected, some of his fans have labeled you a gold digger, conwoman, or flavor of the week, but most find your story a sympathetic one and seem to be supportive.

The news has saturated the past five days in a warmth and brightness you’ve never encountered before in your life.

You and Dieter have been painting and writing and laughing and cooking and fucking and falling asleep tangled up in each other and waking up stuck together by sweat. Luxuriating in something neither of you could afford before: quality time.

Today is no exception, with the two of you under the white down duvet tent, all glowing from morning sun pouring in through the skylight onto his bed.

It smells like him here, of course, but it also smells like you. Your scent has seeped into the threading of his sheets, commingling with his. Like you’ve claimed your spot here with him and now it’s something different, something shared and sacred.

Meaning that it now smells like you, in the collective sense, and find any excuse to bask in it as long as you can.

The pads of Dieter’s fingers trail along the shiny scar tissue that laces your leg, your hip, your arm. All those swaths of skin once split open, he traces them with reverence, his touch delicate and studious. Content to memorize you as long as you’ll let him.

You count the gray hairs sprouting in his beard and at his temples. The wrinkles that crease his forehead and eyes. Signs of age you feel blessed to encounter.

You think about how the two of you were rejected from the afterlife, from the omnipresent belonging, the sea of love, back into these vessels.

“What was it like when you died?” you ask him, bringing your touch to that hairless heart-shaped spot at his jawline, “Like, what did you see?”

“I, umm,” he clears the sleep from his throat, then says, “I remember feeling tired. So fucking tired. This crazy heavy fatigue took over, like—like someone put the world’s heaviest weighted blanket on me, and I tried to stay awake but I just fucking couldn’t. When I woke, I was floating above my body. Saw them all trying to revive me. Then it was like… I was sucked up into this tunnel.”

“The tunnel,” you grin, “That tunnel was fucking awesome.”

He chuckles, “It really was. It was like… I’ve never felt more at peace. Fucking wild,” he shakes his head and frowns, “I saw all these scenes from my life. Growing up, living in New York, getting my first real gig, moving to LA, all that. I got to that barrier, you know,” he glances at you and you nod knowingly.

“I was right there, I touched it, and I knew that was it but I wasn’t scared. Then Annie shot the adrenaline, and I was getting sucked back, and,” his eyes flick to yours, softening to ganache, “And… I saw you.”

You blink, searching his face, shaking your head.

“I—I saw you, Louella. I didn’t know who you were. But when I met you, I recognized you. I felt this,” he turns his wrist in a circle and twists his face up in this bewildered expression, “Connection. I don’t know. Like it was supposed to happen.”

Then he looks at you, and his eyes are glassy and wide with this tender awe. Every cell in your body swells so fat and ripe with love, it’s a miracle you don’t burst like an overfilled water balloon. It hurts, how much you love him.

“You never told me that," you manage to whisper, brushing your knuckles against his cheek. He gives you a sheepish shrug, and you drag your fingertip down the bridge of his nose, “Maybe it was supposed to happen.”

Dieter plucks your hand from his face and interlaces his fingers with yours, then immediately pulls it back, pressing a slow, wet kiss into the blackwork apple tattooed on your wrist. He brings your palm to his cheek and holds it there, his eyelids fluttering, “What was it like for you?”

“Well,” you set your thumb in motion against his skin, “I closed my eyes, and it was dark, then I opened them and saw the wreck. Paramedics were putting me on a stretcher, and there was so much blood I was… red. Like someone dropped me in paint or something.”

The phantom scent of iron sends a shiver up your spine. It took a week to rid your hair of that smell. In the hospital, you scraped under your nails and picked at the hollows of your ears for days before you stopped finding dried blood.

Maybe it wasn’t days. Maybe it was hours, or minutes, you’re not sure.

You just know that, for approximately an eternity, you discovered a small mountain of little rust-red flakes and wondered whose blood it was, knowing that even if it wasn’t his, it was.

Dieter kisses your palm, pulling you back into the present. You blink a few times, take a deep breath, then continue.

“Ethan was with me, and we were pulled behind the ambulance, like there was some kind of tether between me and my body, but somewhere along the way, he disappeared. That’s when I noticed...”

You tilt your head and frown, watching your nails graze his whiskers while your mind tries to assemble a description that might make sense.

“Above me, there was this light. Something inside me knew that’s where he went, so I followed him into the tunnel. I saw my life. When I was growing up in Ohio, my dad, my mom… the time I spent, um…”

Your teeth catch your bottom lip and your eyes flick to his, “I don’t think I’ve ever told you this, but I lived out of my car for a few years after I moved out, before I was accepted into CIA.”

“Really?” he searches your face, and when you nod, he rolls on his side, sliding his palm along the curve of your back, scooping you up to bring you closer.

“Well, technically I was still homeless when I started going there, ‘til my classmate found out and insisted I move in with him,” you smirk, “That’s how Parker became my bestest friend.”

“As always, a man after my own heart,” he murmurs and mimics the smirk on your lips. The tips of his fingers work up and down your spine in a soothing motion.

You chuckle at this, then sigh, “Then, yeah, moving to the city, meeting Ethan. I got to the barrier and saw him cross. I could see inside it like a window. My grandparents, my dad, and Ethan—they were all there, but wouldn’t let me through. My dad told me I needed to go back, that I had more to do.”

A burning sensation climbs up your throat, settling behind your eyes, where tears start to form. You swallow the thick, raw feeling and shake your head.

“I didn’t believe him. I didn’t think there was anything left for me if Ethan was gone, even though—”

When you realize what you were about to say, a sob escapes you. Dieter kisses your cheek, then your forehead, and tightens his arms around you. You curl up against him, wriggling your head into that space between his collarbone and jaw. The heat of his body and your own recycled breath warms your face.

“Promise not to judge me for this?” you ask him in a hoarse whisper.

He tucks your hair behind your ear, “I promise.”

“Sometimes—you know, when things were really bad with him—sometimes I, um,” your voice breaks. You squeeze your eyes shut in an attempt to stop the tears, take a shaky breath, then confess, “Sometimes I wished he would die.“

Self-loathing crackles in your chest. Each second that passes with no response only amplifies the feeling, and you can’t stop the wave of anxious thoughts from spilling out your lips, “It’s fucking horrible, I know it is, but he wasn’t the man I married anymore. He would leave for hours, sometimes days, without telling me where he was or who he was with, coming home all fucking strung out, reeking of booze and smoke and pussy, and—and if I asked, if I dared to fucking ask, he treated me like—like I was the fucking enemy or something—”

Another wet sob gurgles from deep in your chest. Dieter squeezes you tight, nuzzling against the crown of your head, thumb grazing your shoulder as he coos, “It’s ok, baby, it’s ok—”

“No, Dieter, it’s not fucking ok—I should have done something when I noticed it happening more and more, but I was so fucking angry with him for taking away my choice to have a family—”

He shifts to look down at you, asking, “What do you mean?”

Your heart jumps so high, it seems to get lodged in your throat for a moment. You shake your head and swallow it down, then take a deep, wobbly breath, exhaling a sigh, “He, um… he cheated on me. Said it was a one time thing, he was all fucked up because it was the anniversary of his brother’s death—I—I don’t know. He didn’t tell me until months later when I got really sick out of nowhere and had to go to the Emergency Room. They couldn’t figure out what was wrong with me at first, but admitted me and started me on antibiotics because the symptoms pointed to an infection.”

This big, blue boulder settles on your sternum and presses the air from your lungs. Dieter’s comforting touch starts again, swirling patterns into your shoulder, his arms cradling around you, lulling you into a sense of security, urging you onward. You relax into his warmth and clear your throat.

“When the antibiotics worked, the doctors looked into my symptoms further. They ran a bunch of tests and eventually found that I had chlamydia. I told them it was impossible, the only person I was sexually active with was my husband—and, well… yeah. Anyway. Turns out he knew he had it, got treated, but couldn’t bring himself to tell me about it,” you shake your head and let out a sad chuckle, “Just, um, stopped fucking me. Let it fester inside me until it turned into pelvic inflammatory disease, which scarred my reproductive organs enough to make me infertile.”

“Fuck,” he mutters, and his lips part like he’s going to say more, but his breath catches and they snap shut. When they open again, he says, “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

You study him, “What were you going to say?”

“What?”

“Before you said you’re sorry, what were you going to say?”

“I, uhh,” he pauses, and you hear the wet squelch of his gulp, “Nothing, it’s not important.”

You pull back to meet his eyes, finding them all red and glossy. An ache of affection radiates across your chest. You cup his cheeks and search his face, “Tell me.”

“Just… that’s just a fucking terrible thing to do to someone you love,” he shakes his head, tears pooling in his eyes as he winces and looks away, “But—but my first thought was that I understand why, he umm, why—”

His face crumples. Tears blur your vision. You nod, showing you get what he’s trying to say.

He sniffles, and his eyebrows draw together as he meets your gaze, “God, that’s fucked up, right? What the fuck does that say about me?”

You take a moment to deliberate, wiping your eyes before telling him, “I think… the fact that you are able to recognize that in yourself, and know that it’s wrong, but tell me the truth anyway, is…” you lick your lips as you try to find the right words, deciding on, “Indicative of growth.“

Dieter chuckles. It’s a wet, forceful noise, like he couldn’t even help it from happening. He sniffles and presses his forehead to yours. His thumb scrapes against your damp cheek, “That is very diplomatic of you.”

You smile despite the tears, then lean in to give him a tender kiss. His lips are warm and soft. They linger on yours for a few moments, and when you pull away, you murmur, “I love you, Dieter.”

“I love you, too,” he rumbles, brushing your face with the back of his hand, “So, you found that out in the hospital, and I’m assuming things got worse with him after that?”

“Yeah,” you frown and nod, “Yeah, I mean, I iced him out pretty hard. It all went down right before COVID hit New York, you know, and we were stuck at home together… he’d run our orders, then lock himself away in his office. I’d hear him snorting and pacing in there for hours. Like a caged animal. He’d come out all fucking,” you make a sniff noise and mimic a facial tic, “Twitchy and withdrawn, which was totally not like him. But, I don’t know. I couldn’t bridge that gap and move past what happened enough to help him.”

You sigh, flicking your gaze to his, “Do you remember what he was like?”

“Yeah,” Dieter swallows, glancing behind you for a moment before returning to your eyes, “He was nice. Funny. Easy-going. I—I mean, I liked him. Sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

“Well, knowing what I know about him now, I feel… I don’t know, guilty, or something.”

“Don’t,” you frown and shake your head, combing your fingers through his curls, “He was all of those things. He was so… good, you know? This thing would happen, I swear to fucking god it was like every time we went out,” you chuckle fondly, “He would strike up a conversation with a stranger and make friends with them. It was effortless. He was so magnetic. I always loved that about him. And it’s not like he was different behind closed doors or anything like that. Not at that point, anyway.”

Your smile falters. Dieter tilts your chin up and kisses you. When he pulls back, you wriggle into his chest and close your eyes.

“That’s what I mean, though, when I say he wasn’t the man I married. He became paranoid, unpredictable, erratic. There was this darkness about him that was so… hard to be around. I—I fucking hated him.”

Your stomach drops, eyes blinking open. Before you can think twice, you tell Dieter, “That’s the last thing I said to him. ‘I fucking hate you.’”

He draws a sharp breath, holds it for a moment, then says, “That’s not true, though. You talked to him last weekend, in the psychomanteum.”

Your lips part to contradict him, but you realize he’s right. That dark, heavy feeling in your chest lifts enough for you to smile. Fresh tears prick your eyes, “I did, didn’t I?”

“Fuck yeah you did,” he grins, craning his head to kiss your forehead, murmuring against your skin, “My sexy little ghostbuster.”

You bury your face in his neck and laugh. His chest vibrates with a low chuckle. A serene silence settles under the white, glowing dome. Dieter releases a content sigh and traces the pomegranate on your shoulder, “Did you ever find out why?”

“Why what?”

“Why he, umm—”

“Ah,” you nod, “Why he tried to kill us?”

“Yeah.”

“No,” you furrow your brow, “When he dragged me out of bed that night, he kept asking me who I was working for, said it had to be NYPD or feds. He told me that someone was following him and he knew I was setting him up. I don’t know.”

You take one of his hands and interlace it with yours, cuddling them to your chest, “The first time we tried the psychomanteum, I was hoping he would be how he was before—I mean, obviously because I needed to know who he really was, if it was all a lie in the beginning, if I had just missed it… but I also wanted to ask if I should lay low. The more time that went on, though, with no red flags from police, the more I knew he was just… sick.”

Dieter hums in acknowledgment.

“I’m so glad we tried again. That I got to talk to him again,” you say, smirking when you add, “Thank you for helping me with my crazy ghost FaceTime.”

He smiles, “Thank you for convincing me to try it. I’m glad I did.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he pauses and shifts a little, “James and I, in our heyday, we would write these scripts and screenplays and act them out. He did most of the writing, and I did the big parts, but I, you know, I liked… writing.”

You pull back and tilt your head at him, a grin spreading across your face at his bashful demeanor, “Really?”

He nods, a little bob wobbling his throat, “I’ve been thinking about giving that a shot. I have some ideas for scripts, but I’ve been so… reluctant, I guess, to put them to paper,” he shrugs, “When I talked to James, he told me I should try it again, and I’ve been thinking about it a lot.”

“I think he’s right,” you tell him, and press a kiss into the back of his hand.

“I just keep thinking… What if it’s terrible? What if nobody likes it?”

“Does it matter as long as you like it?”

His features shift into seriousness as he considers this. Brow furrowed and pinched in the middle. Corners of his mouth folded in a slight frown. Eyes downcast, studying your clasped hands as he flattens your palm over his heart.

The soft, rhythmic thump-thump beats steady. You watch his eyelids flutter and his facial muscles slacken into a serene expression. This feeling comes over you that’s hard to explain.

It surges from deep inside your chest and buzzes across your skin.

There’s weight to it. Nothing you can’t handle, but still, the heaviness is apparent. You simultaneously feel responsible and completely exposed. Like you’re exchanging your most prized, most fragile possessions, under the silent condition that neither of you will break the other’s.

You would be lying if you said it didn’t scare the shit out of you. You would also be lying if you said it didn’t bring you joy.

He catches you staring and smiles, “What?”

“Nothing,” you grin, “I just… I love you.”

“Yeah?”

You nod, glancing down at his lips.

He searches your face and murmurs, “I love you so much.”

“So fucking much,” you confirm.

Gravel crunches beneath your sandals as you trot down the steep path to the beach, splitting your attention between your clumsy footwork and the scenery.

Clusters of purple flowers occasionally break up the tall, dry grass. Palm trees stretch high into the brilliant, cloudless sky. Beyond the white sand beach sits the Pacific Ocean, dark and alive.

As you inhale deep and wide, letting your eyes shut as you relish the sulphuric, briny scent of the sea, your foot catches on a rock, and you stumble forward with a yelp, grabbing Dieter’s arm to keep you from falling. He only falters a little when you latch onto him, even though he’s outfitted like a pack mule, beach chairs strapped to his back, lugging a tote bag stuffed with towels and a cooler.

“You ok?”

“Yeah,” you wrap your hand around his bicep for support and shrug, “Just, y’know, being super attentive and graceful.”

His muscles twitch under your grip, “Good thing you have such a big strong man to hang onto.”

“Are you flexing?”

“Pffff, no,” he scoffs, and this big, contagious smile spreads across his face. Gravel transitions into sand at the trail’s end, and he asks, “Alright, doll, where you wanna set up camp?”

Your nose crinkles as you squint around the sparsely populated beach. There’s a section of shoreline far away from everyone else, and you point to it, “Right there! Avast ye!”

“Aye aye, captain!”

His pirate voice is surprisingly on point. It makes you laugh. He grins at your amusement as the two of you trudge towards the spot. Sand kicks up inside your sandals, gritty and hot against your feet, and you grumble, “Fuck this, I can’t with the shoes.”

You slow down to take them off, but Dieter stops you, “Wait wait wait—”

“What?”

“Think you can kick ‘em all the way there?”

You shrug, “Probably.”

He sets the cooler down, takes a step back, and props his hands on his hips, looking between you and the vacant section of beach through his sunglasses, “Let’s see it.”

Rolling your eyes, you tease, “You are such a boy.”

“Kick your shoes! Kick your shoes! Kick your—”

You wind up your right leg, then kick it forward, sending the sandal flying.

“YEAAAAAAH!”

It goes high, but not far, flopping on the ground a few strides ahead.

“Ah, beans,” you say, “I thought that was outta here.”

“See, your problem is,” Dieter drops the tote bag and shucks off the beach chairs strapped to his back.

“Oh, you have a technique? A shoe kicking technique?”

“Obviously,” he guffaws while tugging his joggers up his calves, “You gotta get your flippy all floppy on your toes, then kick it.”

“I believe the technical term is loosey-goosey.”

“You’re absolutely right, my mistake,” he walks to your side and points to his foot, “See, watch this.”

He shakes his foot around until the sandal dangles off it, then winds up and launches it forward. It goes about four times further than yours, landing right where the two of you were headed.

“BOOM! That’s a shoe kick.”

“Nice,” you give him a high five.

“Thanks,” he grins, “Now you try. Should we do this one together?”

“Ok ok,” you balance on your right foot, wriggling your ankle around until the sandal slides down as far as it can.

Dieter does the same, “Here we go, ready?”

“So fucking ready.”

“One, two, three—”

Both of you rear back, then kick, and your sandals go whizzing through the air. Yours hits the ground first and skids across the sand, coming to rest a few feet from his first sandal, while Dieter’s flies so far it’s just a speck in the distance.

“Holy shit!” you laugh, “That went so fucking far.”

“And the crowd goes wild!” Dieter bellows, embellishing the statement with cheering noises as he runs a victory lap around you.

You snort and shake your head, “Ok, now you’re gloating.”

He continues the one man celebration as he returns to his abandoned cargo, then heaves the chairs back over his shoulders. You skip up to him and snatch the tote bag off the ground, even though he insisted on carrying everything, then take your place on his arm.

Once the two of you arrive at the vacant stretch of beach, marked by two left sandals, Dieter sets everything up, unfolding the colorful canvas beach chairs on either side of the cooler while you strip down to your black string bikini. He digs in the pockets of his joggers and unloads most of their contents into the tote bag, save for a little tin of joints and a lighter, which he sets on the cooler.

Stretching out in the beach chair, you bury your toes in the hot sand and watch Dieter kick off his pants. He notices you noticing him and whistles at you, a flirty wheet-whew.

You grin, and when he reaches for the hem of his shirt, you catcall, “Take it off!”

He does so dramatically, spinning the shirt over his head like a helicopter and flossing it between his legs before tossing it at you.

“Oh my god,” you laugh when it smacks you in the face. The fabric is warm and reeks of him, which you kind of like, so you ball it up and stuff it behind your head like a pillow.

With a groan, Dieter sits down and grabs the tin off the cooler, plugging a joint between his lips. He lights it and takes a few puffs, then relaxes back into the beach chair, passing the torch to you.

You accept it and take two hits in quick succession, keeping the smoke hostage in your lungs. The rush of THC blurs your senses and elevates you to a pleasant altitude where worries slough off your brain. On the exhale, you hand it to Dieter and ask, “If you were a fish, what kind of fish do you think you’d be?”

He just starts giggling as he plucks the joint from your fingertips and takes a drag.

You catch a few contagious giggles and tell him, “I think—I think I would be a, uhh… a pufferfish.”

He furrows his brow and blows the smoke towards the ocean, then shakes his head, “A pufferfish?”

“Yeah,” you take the joint from him, inhaling skunky, thick smoke with a shrug, “Spiky. Temperamental. Solitary.”

“Kind of adorable when you’re mad,” he adds with a grin while accepting the joint from you, then puffs on it. A condensed white cloud curls out his parted lips when he hands it back to you. He looks out into the water, “I’d be a goldfish.”

You study him while taking a drag, and flick a long tube of ash off the glowing orange tip.

His nose scrunches up around his sunglasses as he glances over at you, “Trapped. Always… on display.”

You pass him the joint and nod in understanding, but say, “I don’t think you’re a goldfish. You’re like… way cooler than a goldfish.”

“Well, I don’t think you’re a pufferfish.”

“Then what am I?”

“Hmm,” he leans way back in his beach chair, tucking an arm behind his head while taking a hit off the joint, then hands it back to you, “Let me think about it.”

“Kill it,” you wave off the joint, perfectly content with how stoned you managed to get, and lay back to bask in the warm sunshine. Your eyes drift closed and you release a deep, cleansing breath while thinking about goldfish. Pea-brained, sociable, common.

Sure, he may feel like a goldfish, but that’s not him. Not really.

He’s unique, and smart, and dedicated, when he wants to be.

Dozens of different sea creatures swim behind your eyelids. You compare and contrast each one to your paramour. Octopi are smart and shapeshifters, but they’re too reclusive. Sharks too aggressive. A whole fleet of colorful, tropical fish, but none of them seem right, until one little curly-tailed guy buzzes across the ocean in your head.

Your eyes open and you smile at him, “You’re a seahorse.”

“How’s that?” he asks, voice warped by smoke. He grinds the joint into the sand, then outstretches a hand to you.

You take it, interlacing your fingers with his, forming a bridge between your armrests, “They eat a lot, they’re kind of pokey—”

“Stop, you flatter me,” he deadpans.

You throw your head back in laughter and say, “Wait, wait—let me finish! They’re also cute, and romantic, and smart, and curious,” you lean forward and bring his hand to your lips, pressing a kiss into his skin, then declare, “You, my love, are a seahorse.”

A wide grin spreads across his face. His thumb works against your hand. He tugs on it and murmurs, “C’mere.”

You crawl out of the beach chair, into his lap, linking your arms around his neck as you pull him in for a kiss. One of his hands snakes around your waist while the other comes to rest on your bare thigh. When your lips part, you curl up against his chest and sigh, “I love you, my sweet seahorse man.”

He lets out a dopey little giggle and kisses the crown of your head, mumbling into your hair, “And I love you, my beautiful seahorse lady.”

You gasp, peering up at him, “I get to be a seahorse with you?”

“It makes sense, don’t you think?” he pulls you close and nuzzles into your hair, snuggling you like you’re his favorite stuffed animal at bedtime, “You and me, we can just… get our tails all tangled up and float around the sea together. Hang out in coral reefs and eat, uhhh… I don’t know, whatever seahorses eat. Sea-monkeys?”

“Sea-monkeys?” you guffaw, “What the fuck are those?”

“It’s a thing!” he laughs, giving your thigh a playful smack, “Didn’t you ever have sea-monkeys? They came in those, uhh, little Parmesan cheese packet lookin’ things—Oh! They’re shrimp! Brine shrimp.”

“Ohhhhh!” you cover your face as you nod, “Ok, yes. I know sea-monkeys. I bet if I was a seahorse I would eat the shit out of those.”

“Told you.”

“You’re right,” you relax back into him, unable to shake the smile from your lips, “Did you know that when a seahorse finds another seahorse they really like, they mate for life?”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” your eyes drift closed, lulled by the warmth of him surrounding you, “They love each other so much that when one of them dies, the other shortly follows. Cuz they can’t live without each other.”

“That’s weirdly romantic,” he chuckles and kisses your forehead.

“Totally us.”

He hums in agreement. The noise is saturated with a warm contentment that seeps into your bones and boils them down to broth. It sloshes around under your skin and you can’t imagine having to move ever again.

“If we stay like this I’m gonna fall asleep,” you mumble. His response is to nuzzle even closer and take a deep, sleepy breath. It’s all the permission you need to let the sandman pull you under.

When Dieter wakes, not much time has passed. The sun no longer hangs in the zenith of the sky like an angry disco ball, but stares him straight in the face.

He peaks down at you and chuckles. A puddle of drool has collected on his shoulder, dribbling from the corner of your slackened mouth. Warmth swells in his belly and aches all the way up to his chest. He strokes your sweaty, heated cheek and thinks, “I don’t deserve her.”

The thought is not so much self-deprecating as it is full of awe at his fortune.

Each morning, when he wakes and you’re still there, wrapped up in his embrace, he can’t believe it. Your one-way ticket to LA has no return trip planned. Neither of you have brought it up. The closest you’ve come is asking him, “Are you sick of me yet?” one morning over breakfast.

“Sick of you?” he scoffed and ripped off a chunk of his blueberry muffin, popping it into his mouth, “Not possible.”

You smiled at him over your coffee mug before taking a tentative sip and changing the subject, “What’re we doing today?”

He knows you have a life back in New York. A business and friends waiting for you to return, but, god… he’d do anything to keep you here forever. To share as many days with you as possible.

As has been happening often lately, he dwells on a snippet from his near-death experience. The one of him holding your hands, where you’re wearing a white dress, smiling bright and full and gorgeous, and you say, “I do.”

Given the result of his previous marriage, he considers that he might be an idiot for daydreaming about it. Especially this soon.

Didn’t he learn his lesson last time?

Apparently not.

Did he feel this way last time, though? Like someone turned up the dimmer switch on his life? With Anika, did he ever know, with certainty, that he would give up anything and everything to stay in the orbit of her affection?

No.

It’s different with you. The tendrils of your love have burrowed deep inside him, taking root in a place no one else has touched. A place he didn’t even know existed within him.

You stir a little. Dieter strokes a scarred-up strawberry on your arm, gazing down at you in time to witness your eyes blink open and meet his. A hazy smile spreads across your lips, and you reach up, brushing his patchy beard with your knuckles, “What time is it?”

The words are groggy and rough.

He shrugs, “Sometime.”

Humming, you look around, then try to sit up, but he reels you back in and squeezes his arms around you, “Mmmm no.”

“Dee,” you whine, laughter wavering your protest, “I’m so thirsty. And hot.”

“Yeah you are.”

One corner of your mouth tucks into a smirk and you snort, shaking your head at him. You kiss him, your dry, sea-chapped lips sticking to the soft inner plush of his mouth. When you draw back and stretch your hands up towards the aquamarine sky, a deep yawn expanding your rib cage, he reluctantly lets you go.

Exhaling a gust, your body goes slack and you roll off his lap into the sand, groaning, “Water,” then crawl towards the cooler. He reaches over to pop the lid open for you and grabs a seltzer. The can opens with a hiss. He brings it to his lips, taking a big swallow of the bubbly, vaguely strawberry-flavored water.

You twist the cap off a dewy plastic water bottle and tip your head back to guzzle it down, water streaming out the corners of your mouth, trickling down your chin, neck, chest, the column of your throat pumping in a thick glug-glug-glug that flickers at the base of his spine.

Sand coats your arms and legs, all those microscopic grains clinging to your slick, sweaty skin. The bottle collapses in on itself as you suck down the remaining water. You toss it aside and gasp for air, chest heaving, practically fucking moaning, “Oh my god—that was fucking amazing.”

A hot, heady rush of need gushes through him. His dick jumps. Breathing quickens.

Dieter gulps down seltzer, ogling you while you grab a fistful of ice from the cooler and hold it to your forehead, eyes fluttering shut. You press the melting ice into your cleavage, squishing your tits together, lips parting in a gasp.

Jesus fucking Christ, Louella.

He sits up and finishes off the seltzer, dropping his empty in the sand, “Need some help?”

With your head still tilted back, eyelids still sealed shut, a sly smile spreads across your face, “Oh yeah?”

By now, the heat of your skin has turned the ice to water, trailing shiny and wet down your abdomen, pooling in your belly button, darkening the very top of your black string bikini.

Dieter stifles a groan at the sight. Saliva gathers in the dark cavern of his mouth. He gulps it down.

You open your eyes and level your gaze to his, eyebrow quirking as you shrug.

He takes a handful of ice from the cooler and pats his thigh. Your teeth catch your bottom lip. You crawl over to him and climb into his lap, sliding back until you’re seated firmly on his hard cock.

“Someone is excited,” you chuckle.

“Can you blame me?” he grins, brushing hair from the nape of your neck. He presses the ice into that knotted bone right beneath your skull, then slides it down your back, drawing circles over each vertebrae. Your shoulders slacken and you let out a sigh of relief.

When the cube melts, right around the middle of your spine where your string bikini is tied into a neat little bow, he gets a new one.

“That feels good,” you breathe, hips arching back, ass pressing hard against him.

The way you say this, all lusty and scraping along the edge of your vocal cords, makes his throat rumble and beckons him closer. He shifts his seated position, sitting up higher, slipping a hand around your waist to make sure you don’t wiggle away, then presses a slow kiss into your pulse.

You hum, opening your neck wider for him to taste the salty bite of your sweat.

“Fuck,” he mumbles against your skin, fingertips digging into your soft belly. The ice cube melts against your tailbone, and he grabs another, smearing its decay along your collarbone, down your sternum.

When he slides it under your skimpy little bikini top and rubs it against your pebbled nipple, you rock your hips against his, letting out a soft gasp, “You’re gonna get us in trouble.”

“With who?” he murmurs, nips at your neck, then says, “Nobody’s here, love.”

“Wait, really?”

You lean forward and look around, turning back to him with a mischievous grin when you find what he said is true. Your pink bubblegum tongue peaks out to wet your lips as you search his face, “Are you sure?”

“Relax, doll,” he purrs, reeling you in, pressing his lips into your shoulder, your neck, your jaw. You reach back, fingers tangling in his hair, and pull him into a leisurely, saccharine kiss.

Like always, it makes his heart stutter. Bubbles hot and wanting up the middle of him. You roll your hips. The heated weight of you grinds hard against his cock, making him groan into your mouth.

His fingertips dance across your abdomen, tracing tedious little swirls into your skin. Your lips gape open with a whine and you roll your hips. His eyelids flutter and he shudders at the wave of pleasure that floods his body. He grabs your hips and silently urges you to continue, rocking you back and forth.

“Fuck, that’s good, baby,” he pants.

Your hand slides over his, both chilled and wet from melted ice, and you guide it between your legs, nodding when his touch wriggles under the fabric of your swimsuit, moaning when he finds your clit and rubs you, soft and steady, studying the subtle, pleasure-filled tremors that make your muscles twitch and breathing quicken.

Your eyebrows thread together and your lips get all pouty, these huffy whimpers escaping them with each stroke, and he could just fucking eat you alive right now, you’re that goddamn beautiful.

His mouth seizes yours. You respond with vigor, twisting your top half around to bury your hands in his hair and kiss him harder.

He works you faster, flicking his wrist, swallowing your moans whole.

You pull back with a gasp and throw your head back on his shoulder, “Holy fuck, yes—”

“Does that feel good, baby?”

“Sofuckinggood,” you whimper, grinding against him, “Fuck—fuck, I want you, Dee—”

“Yeah? Want me to fuck you right here in the open?” he coos in your ear.

You nod.

“Let me take these off,” he withdraws his hand and you scramble to your feet, chest heaving as you glance up and down the shoreline. He tugs off his swim trunks and reclines in the canvas beach chair.

Your eyes drop to his cock, and this big, delighted smile stretches across your face. Returning to his lap, you lower yourself back while Dieter pushes the gusset of your bikini aside and guides to your target. When the tip of him breaches your entrance, you gasp.

“Holy shit, baby,” he groans as you ease him into your hot, wet squeeze, whimpering, “Fuck fuck fuck,” under your breath as he stretches you open.

When he can’t go any further, you adjust your posture, hands on his knees, leaning forward, arching your back. You look over your shoulder, meeting his eyes, and start to roll your hips, pussy suctioning around him, taking him slow and deep.

He moans and nods in approval at the pleasure that gushes up his spine, “That’s it, baby, take what you need. Ride that cock how you want it, feels so fucking good, fuuuck—”

“Oh my god, Dee,” you whine, eyes fluttering shut, mouth hanging slack.

He slides his palms up your back and watches his cock, all shiny with your slick, disappear into you over and over again. Your huffy little whimpers grow louder and you grip his knees, pushing yourself back onto him harder, faster.

“There you go, love,” he groans, gripping your waist, “It’s all yours, baby, take it—”

“Fuck, Dee—”

Your voice is high-pitched and frantic. His hips arch into yours, pulling a wrecked moan from your chest. Liquid heat pulses through him, and when he thrusts again, you gasp and nod, “Fuck, keep doing that.”

He does. He fucks up into you and you curve your spine, face to the sky, tilting your pelvis just so, and the hot, plush silk of your cunt grips his cock, making this sick, wet squelching noise that only fuels him further.

“Fuck, you’re amazing, so fucking perfect,” he pants, skin tingling with desire, wanting to feel you closer, needing to feel your lips on his. His hips slow and he slides a hand to your belly, urging you, “Come here, baby.”

Dieter guides you back, threading one arm around your abdomen, the other scooping up your knees. You link your hands at the nape of his neck and he presses his forehead into yours. The first thrust makes your whole body tense and you whimper, “Holyfuckingshit—”

“I know, baby, I know,” he coos, pulling back to meet your wide eyes, “You can do it, you can take it.”

You make this cute, pathetic kind of noise, gulping down a whine, but nod for him to continue.

He rolls his hips, slow at first, letting you acclimate, increasing his tempo when your head rolls back and your walls relax.

You’re cradled so close he can see the sweat glistening on your skin, can smell your damp musk, can hear every breathy moan, can feel every muscle in your body quiver as he pumps into you. The edges of him start to crumble, deteriorating with each thick wave of pleasure that washes over him.

“Fucking perfect, Jesus fucking Christ, pussy feels so good I fucking love it,” he babbles.

Your breathing grows frantic and sharp, head snapping up to tell him, “Don’t fucking stop I’m so close, holy shit Dee—”

“Fuck yes, cum on this dick baby, let me feel you, I fucking love it I fucking love you—”

You pull him into a needy, messy kiss, your deep, wanton moans vibrating on his tongue as you convulse around him, tremors twitching your muscles. A swell of pleasure steals his breath, surging through him hot and gooey and overwhelming, and he falls over the edge, spilling inside you.

Your lips don’t part from his for more than a moment while the two of you come down into blissful satisfaction, your bodies sweaty and trembling. Labored breaths gradually dissipate into normalcy, and the kisses linger with intimacy.

“Wow,” you giggle eventually, slack and boneless against his body as you tuck your head into his neck, “Are there awards for fucking? I think you just won in the outstanding performance category.”

The praise curls up inside him and makes him chuckle, “What an honor. I’d like to thank my beautiful costar, Louella. Couldn’t have done it without you—”

Your laughter cuts him off, then you say,“You can put your Fuck-ee next to your Oscar.”

“Fuck-ee?” he throws his head back and guffaws, “What would that trophy look like? A golden dong?”

Your body shakes with laughter, “I think that sounds perfect.”

He kisses your sweaty forehead, releasing a content sigh before murmuring “I should put my trunks back on.”

You chug two more bottles of water before returning to your chair beside Dieter.

As you stretch out in the sunlight, the outside world starts to creep back into frame. Sand heats the soles of your feet. Ocean waves roar and slosh onto the beach. A salty breeze ruffles your hair and cools your heated skin.

Dieter nods to the seemingly infinite gray-blue water, “Wanna take a dip?”

You look at the ocean. At the tide washing ashore, then pulling back, again and again. Big, rhythmic, gasping breaths. You think about the vast depth of the Pacific, about the ecosystems it contains, all its tides and currents. All the life it contains and death it brings. The sheer power and magnitude of its existence, right in front of you.

Unease twists your stomach and hums in your bones. Your chest aches.

It’s so overwhelming.

Dieter squeezes your hand, reminding you of his question, and you glance over at him, his expression hopeful and earnest. You can’t say no to that face. Besides, it’s just water.

You’re being irrational.

“Sure.”

“Yeah?” he crinkles his nose like he’s squinting at you behind his sunglasses, “We don’t have to, you know.”

“It’s fine, let’s go,” you crawl to your feet, dusting sand off your legs and ass as you start towards it, ignoring the violent thud of your pulse.

He catches up to you, interlacing his fingers with yours, and the two of you trudge through the hot sand.

“Are you sure?”

You frown, “Yeah, why?”

“You seem,” he pauses here, jaw ticking to one side, then runs a hand through his wind-blown curls, “I dunno. Like you don’t actually want to.”

You frown and shake your head, but the action isn’t convincing.

When he starts to slow, you do too, and you both come to a stop, side-by-side, right across the border of smooth, damp sand. A wave crashes against the shoreline. Its tide stretches towards you, then the cool water washes over your feet.

Dieter squeezes your hand, “Lua. Don’t lie to me.”

You turn and face him, opening your mouth to lie, then he pulls his sunglasses up into his hair so you can meet his eyes, that warm gaze knocking at the eroded, but stubborn, cement wall of your heart, begging, “Let me in. Please.”

“It’s stupid,” you drop your gaze and catch the soft inside of your cheek between your molars, then glance between him and the rolling water, “It’s just scary, you know?”

He frowns, “What is, the ocean?”

“Well, yeah,” you scoff, gesturing towards another incoming wave, “It’s fucking massive. We don’t even know what’s in there, I mean, there could be monsters—”

“Monsters?”

You shoot him a playful glare and chuckle, “We don’t know!”

“Uh huh” he grins, both of his heated, sandy palms finding your waist.

You drape your arms around his neck, tangling your fingertips into the damp curls at the base of his skull, then swallow hard and shrug, “And maybe… I don’t know, maybe I can’t, um… swim?”

His eyebrows shoot up, “Oh shit, really?”

Heat creeps up your neck. You drop your gaze and hear yourself mutter out excuses like a reflex, “Not very good, anyway. Nobody ever took me swimming, or showed me how, and I never figured it out on my own, and-and Ethan was supposed to teach me—”

“Hey, that’s fine,” he works his thumb against your skin, soothing you, “We don’t have to go far, no swimming necessary.”

You thread your brows together, “Really?”

“Obviously,” he scoffs, “What, you think I’m gonna make you? We don’t have to go into the water at all if you don’t want to—”

“No, I want to. It looks nice, just,” you chuckle at yourself, at the worried voice of anxiety piping up in the back of your brain, “I know it’s silly, but will you make sure I don’t get, like… pulled under?”

“Scout’s honor,” he pulls you into a hug, and you hug him back, resting your cheek on his bare chest. The ragged, jittery sparks in your ribcage calm to a low purr. Your muscles melt and untangle. Another wave washes ashore and rolls over your feet, then disappears.

He plants a firm smooch on your forehead, then rubs your back and murmurs, “Ready?”

“Let’s fuckin’ do this,” you say in your most masculine tough guy voice, pulling back to grin at him.

He snorts, shaking his head at you, brown eyes crinkled and twinkling with amusement, then grabs your hand and starts walking out into the tide as it rushes inland. When the ocean takes its offering back, you squeal at the sensation, how water pulls sand out from under you like a rug, coaxing you closer. Wild, salt-addled gusts whip your hair around and nip your generously exposed skin. Before you know it, you’re knee-deep in the icy water, wobbling when an incoming wave shoves you back and splashes up your thighs.

You gasp and squeeze Dieter’s hand for stability. He steps behind you, wrapping his warm, sun-kissed arms around your body, purring in your ear, “I’ve got you, doll, don’t worry.”

“Ok,” you nod, staring out into the deep, dark unknown, rooted in place by his fortitude, finally allowing yourself to marvel in the beauty of it all, “Ok.”

Dieter watches you from bed as you rub moisturizer into your cheeks, leaning towards the bathroom mirror, making all these cute, squishy expressions. Little beads of water drip off the ends of your hair, still wet from the shower, onto the floor and counter.

He’s never really been a forever kind of person. Up until about a year ago, every good thing in his life had been fleeting: flings, highs, gigs. The friendships he held onto were superficial and based in commodity. His marriage felt like a debt he owed. Companionship spoke foreign tongues. He never felt sated. Never felt like this.

This.

Fuck, he loves this.

He thought people made this shit up. Forever. It always sounded like a joke.

But it’s all he can think about. How he never wants to spend another night without you here, wearing nothing but his faded old Prince t-shirt, brushing your teeth, putting all your things away in the bathroom drawer. For-fucking-ever.

When you flip off the bathroom light and come wandering back into the bedroom, you notice him staring at you, and chuckle, “What’re you smiling about?”

Dieter didn’t even realize he was smiling, but you’re right, he is. With a shrug, he says, “You look pretty.”

“Yeah?” you smirk, and twirl around a little, “Is this doing it for ya?”

“Oh, fuck yeah.”

You roll your eyes, that big beautiful smile stretching across your face, and crawl into bed beside him. He wraps an arm around your shoulder as you tuck yourself into his side, ear to his heart. Probably, you hear it skip a beat when he realizes what he’s about to say.

“I don’t want you to leave.”

The seconds after are so quiet he hears your lips part. You shift around until you’re propped up on his chest, searching his face, “What’re you saying?”

His tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth. He curls a hand around the small of your back, “I mean, you know, I want you to stay,” he swallows and meets your gaze, “Like, to live here.”

Your features lights up, and it’s sweeter than any fucking buzz he ever caught.

“Really?”

He nods.

As if something occurs to you, your lips fall into a frown, “What about my baking? And-and Parker—”

“Open something up here. You always tell me about how you want to run a legit bakery,” he smooths his thumb against your spine, “Parker can visit us whenever he wants.”

“I don’t have the capital to open a bakery—”

“I’ll help.”

Your shoulders deflate a little and a crease forms between your brows. You tap your fingertips against his chest and ask, “Would you consider moving to New York?”

He drops his gaze and shakes his head, “I have to be here. Better chance of me picking up work if I’m close by.“

“Dieter,” you pause, holding your breath like you’re not sure you want to say it, but when he meets your eyes, you stammer, “It just doesn’t seem like, I don’t know… Do you even like acting?”

The question feels like a jolt.

He jerks his head back, “Yeah. Yeah, of course I do.”

You raise your eyebrows. Unconvinced. Stomach acid sloshes around inside him and bubbles up his throat.

“It’s my purpose. Acting is the only constant in my life, the only thing that I do that means anything. It—it’s what gets me out of bed and pushes me to keep going.”

He says this, but the words taste sour. Does he even like acting anymore? Or is he just scared to try something else?

A glimpse of the answer in his heart sends it racing. He stuffs it down and tries not to look at it. It’s too fucking scary.

You study him for a moment, then scrunch your face up and stare at your fingertips as they dance across his bare skin. Deep in thought. With each second that goes by, he’s sure you’ll press harder and make him crack. It wouldn’t take much.

“I wonder how much money I could make selling my inventory,” you ponder out loud, “Probably at least $20k. That would be an ok starting—”

His mouth drops open, “Holy shit, how much do you have?”

You shrug, “Twenty pounds raw, thirty pounds cannabutter—”

“And I’ve been smoking you up?” he tuts, “Puta madre.”

You gasp and smack his chest, breaking out in a giggle when you say, “Rude.”

“I’m just kidding,” he laughs, pulling you closer, “Smoking you up is an honor.”

“Damn right it is.”

The two of you smile at each other for a moment, then what you were saying catches up to him.

“So, if you sell everything, then…”

Your eyebrow quirks and your grin spreads wider as you shrug, “Then I could probably swing a cross-country move.”

“Yeah?”

His cheeks ache from smiling, but he can’t stop.

You nod, “Yeah.”

The shrill sound of your ringtone cuts through sleep.

You roll out of Dieter’s loose grip to grab at the source, frowning first at the time, then the caller. Fucking FaceTime, seriously?

You pull Dieter’s shirt over your head and tiptoe out onto the patio, sliding the door shut behind you as you answer with a hiss, “Parker, it’s 3am, what the fu—”

“Lou, look,” he says, and you squint at the screen, recognizing the propped open door to your apartment building. The snow piles flicker blue and red. Parker pans the camera to the half-dozen NYPD squad cars clogging the street. Police officers and people wearing jackets reading NYPD FORENSIC INVESTIGATION DIVISION file in and out of the building, the outgoing individuals carrying boxes of evidence.

“I don’t understand,” you shake your head, “What’s going on, are you ok?”

“That’s from your apartment, Lou,” he tells you quietly, “They fucking raided it.”

Panic seeps into your blood, an icy cold rush that numbs your limbs and freezes your brain. You just keep shaking your head, and hear yourself tell Parker, “No—no that can’t be right.”

“Trust me, it is—”

“Excuse me,” an off-screen voice says to Parker, and the perspective shifts to the source: a bald white man with thick-rimmed glasses. He’s holding a camera, and he asks, “Do you live here?”

“No,” Parker answers.

Another wave of panic slams into you as you realize who he is: David Alterman from DIRT.

You end the call and stare at the screen, unable to move. Unable to think. Just one thought blares in your mind, deafening and persistent: RUN.

#psychomanteum #dieter bravo x fem!reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo x oc #dieter bravo x ofc #dieter bravo smut #the bubble #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal character smut #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal character fanfic

114 notes · View notes

puhmpken · 8 months

Note

Hii!! How are you? I’m here to request something if that’s okay :D anyways I’ll start!

I was wondering if I could request Alastor with a GN! Reader who has a Yuno Gasai Personality from Future Diary? Everything should be explained in the link I setted here ^_^ have fun with this!

素敵な一日をお過ごしください。

this has NOT been edited

Authors Note: I am doing good! I am excited because this is my first request, while I am working on upcoming books! But ofc I can do this! I hope this is too your liking and you enjoy it!

Make sure your staying hydrated, healthy & happy! <3

In the sprawling labyrinth of Hell, where souls clash and demons reign, a presence lingers & hides in the shadows, fixated on one soul.

“I have been watching him for so long,” Y/N murmurs softly to themselves, hidden from view, there (e/c) reflecting the dawning red in the sky, their eyes trained on Alastor as he strolls through the chaotic streets of Pentagram City.

“I know his favorite music..the whiskey he savors at the bar. I watch him whenever I can and read all the papers about him.”

“Many say he’s a menace, deserving the blade of a exterminator’s spear through his heart. While others don’t view him fondly, labeling him as mean and ruthless.”

“But those people no longer exist.”

Title: Diary of the Obsessed (oneshot)

Written/Edited By: @puhmpkins-blog 🎃

In the heart of Hell, where chaos and darkness is on every turn and corner. Sinners run free and practically wild, while some quench the thirst for blood due to their human life. Others take shelter wanting to hide and keep there head for another day to come.

Alastor was one of those chaos, he was a overlord in hell. Who was powerful, many feared him, while others want to kill him and take his spot. You weren’t that case at all. You can’t remember how or even why you got to hell, but you assumed you had committed sin..maybe you stole candy from a baby smh.

It’s a blur, you just remember waking up to a red filled sky with a pentagram and the rest was history. You were a quiet soul, never bothering anyone and always moving swiftly to get where you needed to go. Everything in this “hell” life was boring, it was merely black and white for you. Well all up until you bumped into a deer demon.

He was a overlord in hell, but that’s not what attracted you to him no..no far from it. It was the way how he carried himself, walking with the ego of a god, talking with so much wit and passion about certain sinners. You couldn’t help but feel under a trance by this demon, it was a spark in your dead heart. It felt like it was beating again and dancing to the sound of his voice when he spoke.

You enjoyed this feeling a lot, it made your life easier, gave you a reason to go outside and stroll around.

You sometimes hid in the dark of corners or walk across the street from him to watch him in the corner of your eye. You can tell he wasn’t aware of your doing, just going on with his day doing his normal set routine. This slowly morphed into a obsession with the radio demon you had.

Your once normal life, was filled with stocking or running into him. Maybe he would catch on? But it didn’t faze you, it only pushed you more. It was like a game of a mice catching cheese.

Morning. The sky was always filled with red, the screams of the few who woke you up out of your sleep.

Yawning sitting yourself up. You lived by yourself in a single, almost run down apartment on a upper building floor. You couldn’t complain to much about it, your lucky to be even living somewhere like this, you could’ve been going in and out of motels but you had a place to call home..kinda of

Today was like any other day you got up from your bed, the wood creaking under you with every step you take as you made your way to the bathroom.

Going through your daily routine to fix yourself up and put on your work clothes, you brushed out (h/l) white, sandy tan hair. Making sure to style it correctly. You were a worker under Rosie in her emporium, the job didn’t call for a lot of action, all you had to do was seat behind a desk in the front near the door to ring up customers as the purchased whatever items they could find in her store.

And she carried a lot.

You were her only worker, well besides Franklin but she had disappeared a while after a recent extermination under questionable circumstances, you didn’t need a psyche to put two-and-two together to known Rosie may had something to do with it.

But nevermind that, you made your way out the run down apartment with nothing in hand besides a bottle of water, and the keys to your room hidden away in your pocket. You wore clothes appropriate to the job and ones that Rosie wouldn’t be able to say a witty comment about.

The doorbell chimed as you pushed it open, being first greeted by the smell, of flowers mixed in with smell of something being made you couldn’t put your finger on it, but it was almost like meat?

You sat down behind the desk as you cupped your hand towards your mouth before saying

“Ms. Rosie! Where are you?” You waited a moment as it went quiet, the lights where on? That means she had to be here..somewhere. You turned your head sideways, leaning a ear out to possible hear any nearby movements, no clicking of a heel or laughter to hear, which is peculiar for her in most cases.

‘Maybe I thinking to much, and she just went outside for a moment’ You tell yourself as you walked behind the counter setting up your little check out station.

Just as you finally finish up your station, you hear a bell that chimes. A scruffy looking demon fella wasn’t too tall, he held a box about the same size of his chest,

“I have a uh umm package for Ms. Rosie” He said as his eyes began looking at you before the drifted off away from you probably looking at the different items, ‘fella probably never been inside of a emporium’

“I can take it” You say as he approaches your counter placing the cardboard down on the table, signing off for the package he leaves

Grabbing the package, you felt a vibration of sorts,’What in the..’ You thought to yourself, as you felt the box buzz..one time and then again.

‘That’s weird, what’s in there..’ You question to yourself, as you heard the third buzz go off. Your eyes drift to the clock hanging on the wall,

‘Great and it’s barely 10:40am’ You sighed, without Ms. Rosie there you, would more than likely have to run the store by yourself. Just until she gets there at least, you were kinda trained in it..just don’t let nobody steal from the shop and you keep your job

As the day slowly began to pick up, you moved the cardboard box down from your counter to under hidden from the eye of really anybody, unless they were to walk behind the counter, as the hour started to pass, you noticed something kinda peculiar..the box, it seemed to buzz every 10 minutes. You realized this, when you counted the buzzes you received..five buzzes the whole hour.

‘I gotta open it..’ You thought to yourself, as you waved by to the last person it was now 12 o’clock, Rosie still hadn’t made contact with the store or even appeared it almost like she’s gone missing or disappeared

Shutting the doors and locking them you lower the front dark purple blinds infront of the window, to hide from the public view, now it’s just you and the box. Walking careful towards the counter you squat down reaching under and in the desk grabbing the cardboard box, once grabbing it you stand back up and place it down on the desk eyeing it..

BUZZZ!!

Staring at it wide eyed, you grab a pair of box cutters carefully cutting open the box you see..

‘A phone?’ You said outloud almost dumbfounded as you tilted your head looking down as the closed device, it was a red phone, with black swirls decorating around it. Reaching in and grabbing it, you carefully rotate it around getting a good look at it, nothing too out of the ordinary. Just a regular what seems to be flip phone..

BUZZZ!!

‘Fuck!’ You thought as you quickly try to grab it as it slips from your hands the buzz nearly scared you as you weren’t prepared for it. Catching the phone you hold it, your heartbeat slowly down as you open it

‘Why is there ‘A’’ You thought blinking blankly at the phone ‘Why would Rosie want something like this..does she even understand how these work’ You snickered the thought of Rosie trying to frighten out what and how to work a flip phone made you laughed, as you pushed random numbers and hit random text you finally came onto a screen, that looked like a log of some kind it read..

Alastor 10:40 AM

Running to Mimzy Cafe

Alastor 10:50 AM

Will run into Huskier, and almost get into a brawl with him

Alastor 11:00 AM

Leaves Mimzy, strolls down Dahmer Blvd.

Alastor 11:10 AM

On Dahmer will see AD, and almost brawl with him

Alastor 11:20 AM

Goes to the ‘Happy Hotel’

Alastor 11:30 AM

Begins work

‘Who is this Alastor guy..’ You thought to yourself as you looked at the log, is this some diary of some kind, did he drop his phone? What the hell is happening and like a train it hit you..this wasn’t some regular demon, this was THE DEMON.. Alastor the Radio Show Host..

Weeks had pass since you acquired this strange artifact—

A/N: Srry a scrap put together oneshot, if i should finish it let me know ..

23 notes · View notes

immeasurablesaladagere · 10 days

Note

hello, salad

love your fics!

would you be interested in doing a chase-centric agere sickfic? no pressure ofc i just think that that's an underutilized genre (i love your chase with cg!house and wilson fics they're so good)

LAST REQUEST IN THE STACK! WOO! 🎉 Here you go, a lil sickfic for the soul. Recently got over a cold myself, which was very rude of the universe because it's not winter yet, so I got to ride out the illness with Chase on this one :)

-----

Word Count: 2442

Summery: Chase falls asleep in the office with a fever, and when he wakes up, he's small. He doesn't want House to know he didn't finish the paperwork he was assigned, so he goes to hide in Wilson's office.

-----

C’mon mate, work with me here. Chase sluggishly drummed his pen against the stack of paperwork with a heavy hand and blinked at the pages blearily. It was the third time he had to restart the paragraph because he realized he’d lost focus halfway through. He couldn’t miss anything, these documents were important. What were they for again? Right, treatment records. Very important.

God, he was tired. He thought he got enough sleep last night, but drowsiness had been clinging to him all morning. His arms and legs felt like they were being dragged through molasses, and his cup of coffee hadn’t done anything to perk him up like it usually did. He glanced at the half-full cup beside him. Not that he really finished it. It was cold and gross by now, but he hadn’t been in the mood for it when it was fresh from the pot.

If House noticed his lack of energy he hadn’t said anything, but if he had to guess it was probably what had gotten him banished to the gulag of paperwork while Cameron and Foreman got to go run tests. The lines on the paper blurred yet again and a dull ache formed behind his eyes when he tried to force them to focus. He leaned back in his chair and let out a frustrated sigh. He wasn’t getting anywhere like this. Against his better judgement, he let his heavy eyelids droop closed and rubbed at his temples to sooth the ache. Just having his eyes closed made him feel more relaxed than he had been all day. So dangerously relaxed. You aren’t going to fall asleep, he told himself firmly, House will kill you. You’re just going to sit like this until the headache goes away. That’s all. You’re not going to fall asleep.

When he woke up, everything was hot. He blinked back to awareness slowly, and cringed at the feeling of his sweaty shirt sticking to his skin. His brain felt loose and soupy as he awkwardly tried to shed his lab coat in the chair to get rid of the bothersome layers, and he whined when his efforts to shove the coat to the floor weren’t immediately successful. His arms felt like jelly fighting the fabric. It was too warm to nap, he needed it off.

Finally he freed himself from the tangled sleeves and dropped the coat to the floor, but it didn’t help. He was still sweating, his head hurt more than it did before, and he was still so sleepy. There was only one word he could think of to describe how he felt. Icky.

And just like that, he knew he was small, too. The realization caused him to stir a little more, and his tired eyes widened. He was still at work. He fell asleep, and he didn’t do any of the work that House told him to. He would be in so much trouble.

His eyes flew to the wall clock. He couldn’t tell what time it was, but he remembered the short hand was pointing close to the one before, and now it was almost to the three. That meant he had slept a long time, right? That was bad, really bad. House was gonna be back soon and he was gonna yell at him for doing a bad job when he really didn’t mean it!

Another wave of heat and fatigue washed over him, and he whimpered softly. He didn’t wanna be yelled at, he wanted to hide under the covers at home with his stuffed puppy, Bosco, until the sick feelings went away. But he couldn’t get home by himself if he was small. He was stuck in the big, loud hospital where House could find him at any minute.

Gotta hide. But where? There weren’t any good places in the office. Maybe a closet? But a nurse would find him in there. Someone would find him in every hiding place he could think of, but just as tears of panic and frustration began to well in his eyes, he got an idea.

After stashing the unfinished paperwork in a drawer, he stumbled out of the office and walked quickly down the hallway. He hoped he wouldn’t run into House on the way to his hiding place. It felt like he was running from a monster that could be behind any corner. He felt a bit safer once he made it to the oncology department, but he wouldn’t be really safe until he was hidden. He stopped in front of Wilson’s office door and knocked as politely as he could with his shaky hands.

“Come in!” Wilson’s voice called, and Chase nearly sobbed with relief as he opened the door and ducked inside.

“Chase!” Wilson greeted, folding his reading glasses. “What has House done this time?”

“U-Uhm…”

Wilson’s polite smile fell, and he gave Chase a scrutinizing once-over. “Why are you so sweaty?”

“I-I gotta hide. Can I hide in here, please?” He said quickly, looking nervously out the window for House.

“Uh… sure? What are we hiding from, out of curiosity?”

Chase rubbed his hands up and down his arms nervously. He had to tell the truth, or he was gonna be in even more trouble. Wilson told him he wouldn’t be punished for telling the truth, right? The words tumbled clumsily out of his mouth. “I was doin’ paperwork for House, an’ I was really tired all day an’ my head hurt, so I closed my eyes an’ then I fell asleep on accident and didn’t do anything I was ‘sposed to so I’m gonna be in trouble!” He cried.

Wilson’s eyes widened in understanding. “Oh, you’re regressed. That makes more sense.” He got up from his desk and closed the blinds to the windows. “How long have you been small?” He asked softly. His caregiver voice felt gentle on Chase’s achy brain.

He avoided Wilson’s eyes. “‘Since I woke up… M’sorry, I didn’t mean to be small at work, I promise.”

“I believe you.” Wilson assured, “You said your head hurt before you fell asleep? And that you were really tired?”

He nodded. “Mhm…”

Wilson reached up and pressed the back of his hand to his forehead. It was cold, and it made him shiver. “That feels like a fever, Robbie. I think you might be sick.”

“Feel sick.” He mumbled.

“Here, come sit down.” Wilson led him to the office couch and bent to his eye level. “You can’t go back to work if you’re sick, so do you want to stay small, or do you want me to help you feel big again? Whatever you want is fine, if you want to stay small then I can keep an eye on you and take you home on my break.”

That sounded nice. Being small at work was scary, but the small, selfish part of him didn’t want to be big again. If he was big, he would have to go back home and feel bad all by himself. He wanted his caregiver to stay with him, and remind him to take his medicine, and tuck him in with a sippy of warm milk. And Wilson said it was okay…

“Mm… stay small.” He decided.

Wilson smiled. “Okay. Does your tummy hurt? Or is it just your head?”

He didn’t think his tummy hurt. He wasn’t very hungry, but he didn’t feel like throwing up. He shook his head, “Jus’ my head.”

“Alright. You lie down here, and I’ll go get you some medicine—“

Chase tensed as Wilson stood up to leave him, and his hand shot out to catch his sleeve. “No! Stay here, please?” He pleaded. If Wilson left everything would be scary again, and he would be all alone. What if someone tried to come in, or what if House came looking for him and Wilson wasn’t there to protect him?

“You won’t start to feel better unless you let me get you something.” Wilson reasoned, trying to take his sleeve back, “I’ll only be gone for a few minutes.”

“I don’ need it! I jus’ don’ wanna be by myself…” He said, giving Wilson the saddest, wettest puppy-eyes he could manage. “Please?”

Wilson sighed. “Fine. I’ll stay here. But you have to tell me if you start feeling worse, okay? Do we have a deal?” Chase nodded quickly. “Good. Lay down, try to get some more sleep. I’ll be working at my desk, tell me if you need anything.”

Wilson watched as Chase shifted around restlessly on the couch looking for a comfortable position. So far he hadn’t seen Chase doze off for more than ten minutes at a time, and he had been tossing and turning for the better part of an hour now. If the creeping red flush on his cheeks and the shivering was anything to go by, his fever had also gone up, which probably wasn’t helping. He hadn’t said anything about feeling any worse, but Wilson didn’t expect him to. The poor kid would probably rather melt into the couch cushions before asking for anything.

“Robbie? How are you feeling?”

He got back a miserable sounding hum and an intense shiver. “Cold…”

Wilson got up to press his hand back against Chase’s sweaty forehead. It was warmer than before. Not alarmingly so, but enough. “Hm. Your fever does feel higher… Are you sure I can’t get you any medicine? It’ll probably help you go to sleep. Doesn’t a nap sound good?”

Chase shoved his face into the couch and whined, wriggling and kicking his feet in frustration. “Nooooo…”

Oh boy. He knew that tone. Chase was exhausted, he was sick, and he had reached his emotional limit. Part of him was tempted to just go and track down some ibuprofen from the nurse’s station anyway, but with Chase already upset, leaving would probably only cause a full-blown meltdown, and there was no way he would be able to convince him to take anything after that. He needed backup.

Wilson ran a soothing hand through Chase’s damp hair and shushed him gently. “Okay, okay. I’m just going to ask someone to bring the medicine here, because you need to take it. I won’t leave.”

He went to his desk and picked up the phone. Calling House was a risky move; he was the one Chase was hiding in his office to avoid in the first place, but he also knew that House wouldn’t really be angry about busywork once he found out that Chase was both regressed and not feeling well.

Besides, he thought, glancing back at the pathetic little ball Chase had curled into, Chase could use the comfort from his other caregiver right now anyway.

House picked up after the second ring. “What?”

“It’s Wilson. Could you get two ibuprofen from a nurse’s station and bring them to my office?”

There was a scoff on the other end. “I’ve got a case and one of my employees has dropped off the face of the earth. Get it yourself, I’m a little busy to be running your errands.”

“Well, about that…” Wilson eyed Chase carefully for any sign he might be overhearing their conversation.

“You wouldn’t happen to be stealing my boytoy now, would you, Wilson?”

“Chase wasn’t feeling well. He came to my office to sleep it off, but his fever’s gone up and he won’t let me leave my office to get any medication.” He explained, hoping he wouldn’t have to spell it out over the phone. Even in his dazed state, Chase would catch on instantly.

“What the hell are you—?“ House paused for a moment. “The kid’s regressed, isn’t he?”

Wilson let out a breath of relief. For once, thank god for House’s uncanny perceptiveness. “Yeah. Woke up that way, apparently.” He switched to speaking in a low whisper, “He was trying to hide from you, he was worried you’d be mad at him because he fell asleep and didn’t finish his paperwork or something. He could probably use the reassurance.”

There was a long sigh, and the sound of shuffling. “Okay. I’ll be there in five, give or take how much Nancy wants to be a stingy bitch about the Tylenol again.”

“Thank you. Bye.” He hung up, and hoped he hadn’t just made the worst possible decision.

“I come baring the gift of drugs!” House announced as he stepped tactlessly into Wilson’s office ten minutes later, rattling a plastic cup with two little pink pills in one hand and holding both the handle of his cane and a bottle of orange juice in the other.

Wilson winced as Chase startled hard and floundered into a half-sitting position, and looked at him with a mix of fear and betrayal.

“Easy. Lay back down. Yes, I already know you’re little, no, I’m not mad at you for ditching work, or regressing at work, or for being sick. Wilson just asked me to bring you some yummy medicine.” House held out the cup for Chase, who blinked at it owlishly. House rolled his eyes and placed the cup directly in Chase’s hands, then opened the bottle of juice and gave him that too. “You remember how to swallow pills like I showed you?”

Chase nodded slowly and hesitantly took both pills with only a bit of struggle, watching them both warily. Wilson remembered shaking his head the day he caught House showing a curious and regressed Chase how he took his Vicodin. He figured that lesson could only lead to swallowed toys, but who knew it would actually come in handy one day?

“You’re really not mad?” Chase asked nervously.

House shook his head. “No. I’ll let you in on a little secret, I already knew you were sick. That’s why I gave you paperwork. Speaking of which, where did those papers end up? Because I do need them.”

He looked away sheepishly. “Put ‘em in a drawer so you wouldn’t find ‘em… In the green one.”

House nodded and gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder. “Alright. I have to go back to work now, you behave for Mummy here, okay?”

Wilson stopped himself from groaning out loud at the nickname and shot House an unimpressed glare. His face felt just as red as Chase’s looked. “Yes, thank you, House. We wouldn’t want to keep you too long now, say bye-bye, Robbie.”

Chase gave House a little wave. “Bye.”

House fake-pouted at him. “Hey, where’s my bye-bye, Mummy?”

Wilson rolled his eyes. “Goodbye, House.”

“Thank you.” Satisfied, House turned to leave and shot Chase a little two-finger salute. “Feel better, kid.”

#sfw age regression #sfw agere #agere blog #age regression #fandom agere #house md agere #house md #fanfic #gregory house #james wilson #robert chase

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fanfic-scribbles · 3 months

Text

Dinner Date Chapter 32

Masterlist

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Overall Story Facts:

Fandom: MCU Captain America/Avengers

Story Summary: Steve Rogers has a girlfriend. A prickly, generally asocial girlfriend, but they make it work. They have more in common than some people might think.

Quick Facts: Romance – Steve Rogers/Reader – Female Reader

Story Warnings: Reader-insert that verges on OFC, written in 1st person past tense

Chapter 32: Domestic Dorks

Chapter Summary: A couple of dorks have a relaxing day. …Or try to, at least.

Chapter Word Count: 2148

A/N: I held onto this as a WIP for quite a while, but finally put together enough to make it feel like an actual chapter. Admittedly it’s a very laid-back chapter, even more ‘just fluff’ than usual, but there’s some stuff coming down the line that means either I post this now or I don’t post it at all, and I like it too much. See you next month <3

I woke to pain, nausea, aches, and, worse, smugness.

“How does it feel to win that bet?” Steve asked. Cheerfully, like the bastard he was.

“Uuurrrrrrgh go fuck yourself.” I rolled up in the covers. The dark helped. “Go away and leave me to die in peace.”

“No breakfast then?”

My stomach lurched. “If you go for breakfast you better eat it there. I swear to God if you bring anything into this house that smells like food I will fucking murder you.”

“Love you too, sweetheart,” he said and made a little hole in my blanket burrito to kiss me.

“I love you.” I curled back up. “As long as you don’t bring food back. I got conditions.”

“Nah.” I could hear his stupid grin. “You’d love me even if I did.”

“I’d probably be very sad about murdering you,” I admitted.

“See?” He leaned over me, hugging lightly, and for some reason it felt…nice. Not claustrophobic. “Soft.”

“Bleck.” But I sighed. “Go do your run, have breakfast. I’m just gonna…stabilize.”

“Do you need anything?”

“I’m gonna try and go back to sleep to ride this out. Hopefully.”

“Okay.” He gave me a little pat, then got off the bed. “Feel better, sweetheart.”

I tried to wave before I remembered I was still wrapped up. He probably got the idea by my general squirming. “Have a nice run,” I mumbled, and didn’t wait to hear his reply before I fell back asleep.

I awoke again only maybe a half-hour later feeling so much better. Not perfect, but well enough that I could uncurl from my cocoon and entertain the idea of swallowing some pills without the threat of reversal. And coffee.

Coffee got me out of bed and plodding into the kitchen– where I found Steve.

“You're still here?” I asked and, as I yawned, Steve pointed at the living room window. I turned to see it was raining. “Oh. Nice.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t hear it,” Steve said and handed me a mug that was warm on my hands and out of which wafted the very welcome scent of coffee.

“Processing the world around me is too much work when I wake up,” I said, took a swig, and kissed him. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” He kissed me again. “You taste like coffee.”

“Yum.”

“How is that possible after just one sip?”

“Morning breath is a coward that flees at the first sign of conflict.” I took another, longer drink. “And coffee comes out swinging.”

He shook his head. “That is…a strange combination of words that also somehow makes complete sense.”

I leaned against him and stared at the rain for a little while. I then looked at my kitchen, decently stocked on snacks but not so much main meals, and sighed. “So, breakfast: are we going to find out if the Wicked Witch of the West was right and venture out,” I said, considering our options, “–or are we going to tip well?”

“We’ll tip very well,” Steve said firmly and slid his free arm around me as he sipped his coffee.

“This is going to be the best lazy day,” I said and scrolled through a very localized map on my phone, trying to pick a place. “We can lay on the couch, and eat, and watch movies, and eat…”

“Sounds perfe–” Steve’s phone did a series of rapid buzzes that snapped his attention to focus. We both stood stiff while he read whatever it was, but then he relaxed and rolled his eyes, and I let out the breath I’d accidentally held. He pulled me closer and kissed my head. “Sorry about the false alar–”

His phone buzzed again. He read it and looked annoyed. “Seriously Nat?” he muttered, and I sipped my coffee as he aggressively texted back.

Whatever she replied with made him sigh dramatically. “Apparently I owe Natasha a match and she’s decided to collect,” he said and put his phone down. “Rain check on the movies?”

“Literally.” I couldn’t help but laugh and I kissed him. “Will it be an all-day thing?”

“Maybe.”

“Well, if not, text me; maybe we can get lunch or something.”

He smiled and tilted my chin up. “I’ll text you,” he promised and gave me a sweet, slow kiss that left me hesitant to pull away. “Make sure you eat breakfast.”

“Okay,” I said and leaned back against the counter. “Breakfast…then shower…then blanket nest.”

“One of us is going to be in a pile of blankets and the other is going to be in a sparring match with the Black Widow.” Steve’s sigh was oh so pitifully forlorn. “One of us is going to have a much better day than the other.”

“Mm, depends on if she wraps her thighs around your head; then it’s a toss-up.”

“You know that’s a move that can snap someone’s neck, right?”

I could understand that but I couldn’t imagine it. I sighed wistfully. “But what a way to go.”

Steve shook his head and pulled me back into his arms, tickling my neck with kisses. “There’s only one pair of thighs I want to be wrapped in…”

“Jerk!” I pushed him away playfully. “Don’t say that shit when you're leaving.”

He laughed, because he was a jerk, but he also winked and said, “What if it’s a promise?”

“Let’s see how well you can keep it when Natasha gets done with you.” I crossed my arms. “For the record, I was going to give you a workout today.”

“Oh were you now?”

“Yup; I was just going to lie back and let you do everything.”

He laughed. “I doubt that.”

I raised both eyebrows. “Are you insinuating that I put effort into anything?”

“I’m saying that even when I tell you I’m going to take care of you, you’re so Goddamn nosy you have to butt in anyway.”

I scoffed, even though he was…a little right. Just a little. He smirked, and I made the ‘shoo’ motion. “Go get wrecked by Black Widow already.”

“Thanks for your support, sweetheart,” he said, but he had a crooked little grin, and after a few more kisses (for fortitude, and luck,) he was out the door, into the rain, and on the way to get his ass kicked

I was sad to see him go, because it really was a great day to cuddle up on the couch, but I managed to get through my little to-do list. I had breakfast, I took a warm shower, and then I made a comfort pile of blankets and pillows on the couch.

However I didn’t actually stay in it for long. I got restless, and didn’t really like the idea of getting cold and wet, and there was a stain on my coffee table that really was overdue to be cleaned up, and I could pick up that trash on the counter on my way to put back the spray bottle, and before I knew it, I was moving the coffee maker as I prepared to actually clean the kitchen counters properly since…probably longer than I wanted to admit to.

I stopped and looked back at my abandoned nest on the couch, and looked back at the tiny kitchen that was already half-clear…and decided to keep riding this wave.

A couple hours later I was in my crappy cleaning clothes, with a scarf over my head to protect my hair from the stupid amount of dust that always seemed to somehow collect, when my phone buzzed.

Steve: Natasha had some new moves to show me Steve: I definitely got my ass kicked :( Me: Aw poor thing Me: At least you lived Me: Wanna come over so I can kiss you better? Steve: Absolutely :)

He was too easy sometimes. But then, so was I.

Me: FYI I’m cleaning so I look like shit Steve: Okay Steve: I doubt you look that bad Me: Just you wait Steve: You're just trying to get out of those kisses Steve: Nice try, but they’re banked

I held my face.

Me: You are the BIGGEST fucking dork istg Steve: I can imagine the smile you’re wearing right now just based on the amount of swearing and caps lock Me: I hate you. You're uninvited. Stay away forever Steve: Shouldn’t have given me that key then

I groaned out loud but I threw myself into the last bit of cleaning I had to do. Despite his threat to barge in, I was tossing a rag in the hamper and just about to change the sheets when there was a knock at the door. I checked and it was, indeed, Steve. I looked a mess still, having not changed, but I decided to embrace it. I opened the door without even trying to smooth myself over, and while Steve inspected me, I leaned against the frame, arched my hip out to a painful degree, and pushed my lips out into the most ridiculous duck face I could manage. “Hi handsome.”

A bright smile bloomed across his face. “Hey gorgeous.”

I lost the pose. Mostly because I was lazy, partly because it was hard to be so sarcastic in the face of all that human sunshine. He trundled in and I shut the door behind him. I turned to find flowers in my face.

“Oh.” I took them. “Pretty. Thank you.”

“It seemed like it might be a nice touch to top everything off,” he said and looked around. “On this very momentous occasion.”

“Har har.” I smacked him with the bouquet and then walked away with it.

“Is that side-table new or did you just unearth it?”

“You know,” I said as I rinsed out my very-rarely used vase. As I filled it up, I looked back at his smugly smirking face. “Just because we’re dating doesn’t mean kisses are guaranteed. If you annoy me too much, I’ll withhold.”

That smile went right the hell away. “You wouldn’t,” he said, eyebrows creasing and lips turning down.

Admittedly I probably wouldn’t, but making fun of my home was surprisingly unsexy so I was able to bluff my way into watching him look away and pretend to be very impressed. “It looks nice,” he said, and smiled at me. “And so do you, for the record.”

“It’s okay.” I put the flowers in the vase, dumped out a little of the water too close to the top, and put the whole thing on the counter. “I’m pretty sure you can deal with me looking gross by now.” I then turned and gave him a full look-over. “How bad did Natasha get you?”

“Nothing anyone will see, but I’ll be feeling it for another few hours probably,” he said and rolled his shoulder. “I don’t know how she does it. Or why. She might be conspiring with Bruce to see how long the aches last.”

“I don’t think your friends are trying to experiment on you.” I went and wrapped my arms around him. “But if they are, let me at ‘em. I’ll at least be a vague insult to Natasha’s self-esteem when it takes her a second to take me down.”

“That’s sweet, but please don’t challenge the Black Widow for my honor.” He kissed my head. “It was a joke.”

I poked his pec. “Bad joke.”

“Yeah.” But he was still smiling. “I was thinking of amending the plan from this morning.”

I waited, but he didn’t immediately follow that up with an explanation. “Amend it how?”

I waited for the tell-tale grin, but he kept a straight face. And so my stomach dropped when he scooped me up. “Dammit Steve!”

“Am I a bad person if I love that you’re still surprised by that?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said firmly.

He changed tracks then, giving me pitiful blues. “You should be nice to me,” he said, with a pout that twitched far too much at the corners, as he walked us to the bedroom. “Nat really did a number on me.”

Yeah, because he really looked it, carrying me around like he did. Still, I could play along. Sort of. “Poor baby,” I cooed. “You want me to kiss it better?”

He dumped me on the bed. Despite that, I laughed, and he smiled as if pleased. “Would you, if I asked nicely?” he said as he moved to crawl over me.

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help but watch his shoulders flex as he moved. I couldn’t see the signs of ache, but he did go slower, and even if he wouldn’t keep it in mind, I could. “Insatiable,” I said and lay back as he hovered over me.

His smile gentled. “Only for you.”

“Mm hm.” I held back a laugh, and trailed my fingers up from his chin over his cheek. “Prove it.”

He grinned.

More importantly, he did.

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#steve rogers x reader #captain america fanfic #avengers fanfic #captain america reader insert #avengers reader insert #dinner date

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