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dfortrafalgar · 23 hours

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I'm Losing You... (But We're Filling the Cracks)

Having a family isn't always as easy as fairy tales make it seem.

Warnings: read chapter 1 for warnings.

Taglist: @phsycochan | @mirillua | @augustanna | @chaixsherlock | @whore-of-many-hot-men

Chapter 22

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[RING RING]

[Hi! Sorry I can’t come to the phone right now. Please leave a message after the beep, and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can!]

[BEEP]

Law took a deep breath before speaking. “Hi, baby, I just wanted to check in. I know it’s really early there and you’re probably still sleeping, but good luck on your procedure today. I… really wish I could be there. I miss you a lot, I’m excited to come home in a few days. Call me back when you get the chance, just so that I know you’re okay. I love you.”

The solemn man tapped on the red disconnect button on his phone’s screen, hanging up on your voicemail box. Beside him, Dr. Tony took a long sip of his beer, anxiously eyeing the expression of his superior. Across the table from Law sat another older doctor from an institution a few cities away, one who had been a big fan of Law’s dissertation from medical school and insisted he treat the cardiac surgeon and his colleagues to a drink. As soon as they began actually drinking, though, it became clear to Law that the large, scruffy looking doctor treating him to booze was a bit harder to deal with than he initially thought. The more he drank, the more he ran his mouth.

“Aw, come on, man! You’ve been so uptight this whole week, I thought someone like you would be more than excited to attend this event and go drinking with some colleagues,” the man chided, his cheeks slightly flushed from his alcohol intake.

Law tossed a frustrated look at the man across from him, but it clearly didn’t land in the way he intended. “Just a bit tired, I suppose.”

“Tired of calling your wife?” the man sneered. “A man deserves to get away from the ole’ ball and chain every once in a while. You might as well enjoy your freedom while you’re out of the country.”

Law’s jaw involuntarily clenched. A million words of retaliation swirled through his head, but he didn’t have the gall to speak. The last thing he wanted to do was make a scene, surrounded by esteemed colleagues who were all looking forward to a night out drinking after a successful conference day. The black-haired man simply crossed his arms and uncomfortably eyed the barely-touched beer in front of him.

“That woman of your’s is probably sick of you calling her all the time, anyway. Is she making you do that?” he asked.

Chopper reached a hand out, nervously trying to stop the man across from them from talking. “Dr. Teach, let’s be civil, now.”

Another swig of beer slipped past the larger man’s chapped lips. He slammed down his glass with another snide remark. “Can’t be civil when you’ve got a man being held back by some woman at home. You can’t let her control you like that, you’ve got to be a man.”

Law’s fists clenched the fabric of his shirt as he felt his face heating up with humiliation. “I’m going to ask you one time to be quiet.”

The man, Dr. Marshall Teach, curled his lips in a sneer. “Aw, you getting defensive?”

“If you wanted to treat myself and my colleague to a round of drinks, I would appreciate it if you could keep your unnecessary comments to a minimum,” Law affirmed. He was inwardly impressed with how he managed to keep his voice so steady despite the rapid pounding of his heart. He felt his hands grow clammy with discomfort.

Teach shrugged. “Sorry that you’ve found yourself prey to a bitc–”

Law stood up with such ferocity that the sound of his chair scooting across the hard wooden floor alerted the tables around him, surprised and curious eyes darting in his direction. With a scowl, he grabbed his bag, stepping around the table to make a quick exit. Before he passed by Teach, however, he stopped dead in his tracks and leered down at the man. “Don’t expect any more cordial behavior from me this week. I never want to hear from you again.”

Before the rude older man was able to retort and get the last word, Law finally stepped away from the table and left the restaurant. His legs were shaking as he rounded the corner of the building and stepped into a dimly lit alleyway, the setting sun casting a large shadow over the structure and making the corridor appear darker than the rest of the world. A perfect shroud for Law to sink into a crouching position against the brick wall, his bag at his feet as he wrapped his hands around his knees.

Pathetic.

Law felt his stomach twist uncomfortably, his hands growing even more clammy as he fought with his heart rate to get it to settle. His mind was reeling with thoughts, insecurities. He felt like he was going to be sick. How was a man as esteemed as him having a panic attack in a back alley behind a bar?

“Law?” a soft voice called from around the corner.

The black-haired man picked his head up in surprise, facing the voice. A head of thick, bushy brown hair and gentle, black, doe-like eyes greeted him.

“Chopper… need something?” he asked, keeping his voice low to prevent it from trembling.

The younger doctor stepped closer, copying Law’s posture by crouching down himself so he could be at the same level as his superior. “Just wanted to make sure you were okay… do you want to head back to the hotel?”

“Is anyone else going?” Law asked, mild skepticism in his eyes.

“Nope, just me,” the brunette man responded. “I barely had anything to drink, anyway. Bars aren’t really my scene.”

Law slowly stood up along with his younger colleague, grabbing his bag from the cold ground and following Chopper out of the alley, rounding the corner and proceeding down the street. The two walked in silence for around 20 minutes before they finally reached their hotel, a very fine establishment that was selected by their employers for their week-long stay in the Flower Capital. The place was far more lavish than anything Law had stayed in before, but frankly, the expensive decor and fancy lights were nothing if not unsettling for him in his upset state. He followed Chopper into the elevator, the two ascending in silence to the 10th floor, watching as the numbers on the control panel slowly ticked upward. Their walk through the hall was so silent you could hear their footsteps slightly echoing off of the plaster walls around them. Chopper inserted his keycard into their room’s door, pushing the heavy entrance open and stepping inside, Law on his heels.

Once they were safely in their room, Law released the frustrated groan he had been holding in. He quickly undid the buttons of his dress shirt, ripping it off of him and falling backwards onto the bed that he designated as his. Chopper watched with concern on his soft features, sitting on his own mattress.

“I’m sorry about what Teach said to you,” the younger man said.

“Don’t be, it wasn’t your fault,” Law mumbled back, staring at the ceiling. The air of their hotel room was quite chilly and made goosebumps appear on his inked skin, but it was far better than his anxious perspiration that was going on under the stifling fabric of his dress shirt.

“I know it wasn’t, but I’m still sorry,” Chopper responded, awkwardly hugging his knees. “I think it’s sweet that you’re calling your wife so often. I’m sure she really appreciates it.”

Law bit the inside of his cheek. He had kept your infertility struggles a secret from the rest of his colleagues at the hospital, choosing instead to say that he was taking care of you through an acute illness whenever he used his personal time off. No one had ever questioned it, perhaps being too afraid to provoke the steely, constantly-focused doctor, but whatever the reason, Law was relieved that he never had to explain himself. His current behavior was far beyond the realm of what Chopper had ever seen of him, drastically out of character from the hard-working doctor the younger man was surely used to.

“Chopper, can I tell you something?” Law asked, feeling immensely awkward for divulging his problems to a colleague who seemed so much younger than him.

“Of course,” Chopper replied.

Law sat up on his elbows, gazing at his feet at the end of the bed. “My wife has been struggling with infertility. We’ve been trying for well over a year now to have a baby, with no success yet. She’s had two miscarriages, the second one at 12 weeks.” His voice was quiet as he spoke, clearly upset with reliving the memory of seeing you tied to the hospital bed in the emergency room, the way your face was scrunched up with agony, humiliation, and shame.

“I’m… I’m so sorry,” the younger man sympathized.

Law took a deep breath. “She’s been undergoing treatment to prepare for IVF, and today, back home anyway, is the day she gets her eggs harvested. I’ve been so, so fucking nervous for her. Excuse my language.”

“So that’s why you’ve been calling and texting her a bunch?” Chopper asked, slightly tilting his head as he listened to his older colleague.

“Yeah. And unlike that prick Teach, I like to think I have a much healthier relationship with her.” Law scoffed, relaying the words the older man had spoken to him over their drinks. “Ball and chain, my ass. The day I refer to my wife like that is the day I die by my own hand.”

Chopper sighed, wanting to apologize yet again for the older doctor’s behavior, but deciding against it. Law’s words sparked a hint of curiosity in the younger man, however, as he gazed at the ink covering his coworker’s hands, arms, chest, and back. “Law, do you mind if I ask you a question?”

“Not at all,” the black-haired surgeon responded.

“It always struck me as interesting that you have the word ‘DEATH’ tattooed on your fingers. Have you ever been… told off for that?”

Chopper’s words prompted Law to gaze at the ink on his skin. He huffed through his nose at the memory, his friends as an 18-year-old undergraduate adamantly insisting that he shouldn’t get morbid tattoos if he was going to pursue a career in life-saving medical care, but clearly their words didn’t stick.

“All the time,” he replied. “I got my tattoos done over the course of a few years while I was an undergrad. I was going through a lot at that time, and funneled my frustrations into getting ink.”

“Is there a reason you chose ‘DEATH’?” Chopper had absolutely zero idea if he was crossing the line or not, but based on Law’s somewhat relaxed body language, he safely assumed that he was still in the clear with his questions.

Law pursed his lips. “I lost my family in a house fire when I was around 10, and the man who took me in and raised me was killed by his older brother when I was 13, so for the duration of my teenage years, death was all I thought about.”

Chopper’s eyebrows creased with melancholy. “I’m so sorry…”

Law relaxed his arms and fell back onto his mattress once more. “I kept going for my parents, they were both doctors and I grew up wanting to follow in their footsteps. And for most of my time in high school and then in college, I was convinced I was too hardened to be loved.”

The younger brunette felt a small smile tug on his lips. “But then you met your wife.”

The words made the black-haired man grin. “Yup… then I met my wife. But I already had the tattoos when I met her, so it was a bit too late for that.”

“I’m sorry you can’t be home with her… but I’m sure she really does appreciate the fact that you’re constantly checking in on her. If my husband was halfway across the world, I’d want to hear from him as often as I could, too,” Chopper stated, his voice light and airy.

Law stared at the ceiling. Chopper was the kind of kid whose presence made you relax. His openness and understanding of complex topics and issues was a quality that made Law gravitate towards taking him under his wing, endlessly impressed with the ease in which the boy sympathized and offered boundless support for patients, colleagues, and family who visited the hospital. Even the most upset patients were treated with the utmost respect from the young doctor, his very existence making any tension or unease flow from the body in waves.

“Thanks, Chopper, I appreciate it,” Law stated. “Sorry to spill all that on you.”

“It’s never a problem, Law, I’m always happy to talk about stuff that might be troubling you. As a friend, rather than strictly a coworker.” Chopper swung his legs off the side of his bed. “I’m going to take a shower, try to get some shut-eye, alright?” The younger colleague tossed a friendly smile to Law, who nodded graciously.

The bathroom door closed with a soft click, leaving Law alone on his bed in the warm light of the bedside lamp. He reached toward his phone intent on checking his text messages, but as soon as he picked it up in his hand, the screen lit up with an incoming call.

Wifey

A grin tugged on Law’s lips. “Hello?”

[Hi, baby! I’m sorry I missed your call…] Your voice was groggy with sleep, and some shuffling could be heard in the background. You must have still been in bed.

“It’s alright, you were sleeping,” Law replied, his voice soft. “I wouldn’t want you to wake up for me, especially not on such an important day. You need all the rest you can get.”

A soft hum echoed through the speakers. [You’re right… but I love hearing your voice.] Your words were silky smooth, making your husband smile even wider as he imagined the sleepy look on your face, your eyes half-lidded with exhaustion as a beautiful, fatigued smile pulled on your lips. He imagined curling closer to you, pulling your body into his own and inhaling the soft scent of your soap and moisturizer, wishing he could carry around your aroma in a bottle for whenever he wanted to think of you.

“How are you feeling about today?” he asked.

[Really, really nervous. But we all have a plan.] Your shaky response made Law’s heart clench, but he waited patiently for you to continue talking. [I go in at 9 AM for the procedure. Penguin is driving me, because I don’t trust Shachi’s car, but Shachi and Ikkaku are going to stay at the apartment with Bepo. The procedure is going to take only, like, ten or so minutes, so I requested to have local anesthesia so I don’t have to be all groggy for the day. So it’ll probably hurt a bit, but I’m tough. I can deal.]

Law chuckled. “You are tough.” He wanted to say something else, perhaps sing your praises even more, but his insecurities from earlier flooded back into his head. “Hey… can I ask you something?”

[Of course, baby. Anything.]

“Are you…” he searched the crevices of his mind for the proper words. “Are you annoyed with me when I call too often?”

The line was silent for a few moments too many. [Why would I be annoyed?]

The man rubbed the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “I don’t know… I had a weird conversation over drinks tonight and I’m overthinking it.”

He could hear you audibly sigh. [I absolutely, one hundred percent, do NOT think you’re annoying. I get so excited whenever you call. When you called me yesterday when I was at Nami’s, she poked fun at me for lighting up when you called. She said it looked like I was glowing.]

Law smiled at the thought. Before he could continue speaking, though, you took a breath.

[I would never be annoyed with you, ever. If anything, I wish you could call more, but I know you have your big important responsibilities while you’re over there.] Your voice was uplifting, encouraging. Law’s chest felt lighter simply by listening to you talk. Oh, the power you held. [When you come home, I’m going to smother you in so many kisses to make up for whatever asshole made you feel shitty.]

“I’d love that, baby,” Law sighed into the receiver. “I miss you… I don’t think I’m cut out for long business trips.”

[You only have three more days, you can do it!]

Law had an image in his head of you excitedly pumping the air with your fist, your eyes bright and shining as you encouraged him to keep his head up and continue pushing forward with the incredible reward of returning home to your arms.

[And hey, when you come home, we’ll have a bunch of microscopic eggs in a petri dish at the fertility clinic hopefully being fertilized.]

Law’s heart swelled at the mere thought of tiny embryos growing to hopefully be successfully implanted into you. The process of preparing for the procedure had been so long to him and he couldn’t even begin to comprehend how you must have felt in the weeks leading up, but the way you had managed to stay strong through the entire duration was profoundly inspirational to him. You were truly one special woman.

[I’m going to get up and take Bepo out, but I’ll text you throughout the day to tell you how things went! Oh, and Law?]

“Yes, baby?”

[Don’t lose sleep over me. I can somehow see those eyebags through the phone. I promise I’m going to be okay, so get some rest, alright?]

Law smirked. You knew him far too well. “No promises.”

[Law…]

He sighed, a chuckle escaping his lungs. “Okay, I promise I’ll get some sleep. My hotel roommate’s in the shower right now, but when he’s done I’m going to clean myself up and get some rest. I’ll talk to you later, baby.”

He could hear the smile on your voice as you responded. [I love you, Law.]

“I love you, too, beautiful.”

—

“Shachi and Penguin are pussies,” Ikkaku groaned, crossing her arms over her chest in the chair that sat across from your small pre-op bed. “Afraid of some women’s health matters…”

You giggled at her frustration. “Well, I’m really happy that you were able to take today off and help me out, I really appreciate it.”

“Of course!” Ikkaku flashed you a charming, toothy grin. “Anything for my bestie. Besides, from what I read online, you’re gonna need some support to help deal with the pain.”

“It shouldn’t hurt that bad… they’re giving me local anesthesia, so I’ll only feel a little bit. At least, I hope that’s the case,” you replied with a nervous shudder. “You won’t have to deal with a loopy post-op me. Last time I had a procedure done, Law told me I didn’t stop gushing over him for almost six hours.” Your head fell into your hands, embarrassment painting your face.

Ikkaku laughed at your shameful state. “You can still tell me how much you love me while completely sober, though, right?”

You flashed her a cheeky grin. “Don’t test your luck.”

You struggled to admit it, but you were wildly anxious. The last time you talked to Law was when you returned his call a few hours prior, and thinking about him halfway across the world, probably (hopefully) fast asleep in preparation for another day of conferences was reassuring, but you had a residual ache in your heart that yearned for him to be with you. The weeks of synchronizing your cycle and taking hormone injections to mature your eggs was a long, boring, and tedious process, but it was all leading up to this very moment.

Now you just had to hope that some of your eggs were mature enough to fertilize… if they would fertilize at all.

“Mrs. Trafalgar?” A nurse stepped into your room with a clipboard, a few sheets of paper attached to the metal clamp. “I just need to have you sign a few forms and then we’ll take you in!”

You took the board and the pen from her grasp, wiping your hands on your hospital gown to rid your palms of your nervous sweat. You signed the release forms with a few quick strokes of your pen before handing the papers back to the nurse who happily took them from you.

“Alright, you’re all set! The doctor will be in shortly to take you back,” she explained before cordially nodding towards you and exiting the room.

Your foot was bouncing off the mattress. “Ahh… Ika… I’m so nervous.”

Ikkaku stood from her chair, crossing the room to be at your side. She rubbed her hand over your shoulder, her expression sympathetic yet encouraging. “You’re gonna do great, you’ll be in and out! 10 minutes, just like you said!”

“But what if my eggs aren’t mature? I’ll hear if they are before we leave…” You could feel your heart rate increase at the prospect of all your hard work in the past few weeks being for nothing.

“Hey, look at me,” Ikkaku demanded, her voice soft. She took your cheeks in her hands, turning your head to face her. “No negative thinking. Your eggs are probably more mature than an elderly person!”

You snorted, making her pull her hands away quickly and wipe them on her shirt. “That’s the comparison you make?”

“Geriatric eggs,” she confirmed, smirking at you. “But seriously, you’re going to be fine. I have a good feeling. And after you’re back here and the anesthesia is wearing off and we find out that your eggs are nice and mature, we’ll go and celebrate with some ice cream.”

Your mouth began watering at the prospect. “That does sound pretty good…”

“Exactly! So keep your chin up!” Ikkaku excitedly pumped her fists in the air, a sight that made your lips crack into a smile as you absorbed the excited, optimistic energy from your best friend.

“Knock, knock, Mrs. Trafalgar, are you ready?” The doctor overseeing your egg extraction peeked his head in.

You swung your legs over the side of your bed, holding the back of your gown closed with one of your hands. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Good luck!” Ikkaku called as you followed the doctor into the small outpatient operating room.

You were starting to really dislike the feeling of paper and polyester clinic gowns, they way they were completely shapeless and stiff on your skin made you feel particularly vulnerable. You would much rather be naked to the open air than don a hospital gown, but you also quite liked not being locked up in jail. You bit down your discomfort and entered the small outpatient procedure room where you were instructed to lay back on the table and put your feet in the stirrups. You stared emotionless at the tiled ceiling, the bright white LED lights making your pupils constrict. You simply nodded through the nurses’ instructions and comments, quietly letting them insert an IV needle into your arm for fluids.

“We’re going to be using a local anesthetic that will be injected near the top of your vagina, and an ultrasound will be running to assist with locating your ovarian follicles,” the doctor explained, displaying the capped needle in his hand. “This procedure will only be around 10 to 15 minutes, but throughout the duration we will be injecting additional small doses of a low-level narcotic pain reliever so make sure you don’t experience any discomfort. Does that sound good?”

You gave a curt nod. “Yes it does.”

“Perfect. Please inform us if you feel any large amounts of pain, or any discomfort outside of your pelvic region.” The doctor turned his back on you, and your eyes resumed staring at the ceiling, your hands over your chest resting directly above your heart.

You felt a small pinch near your core that made you wince, but you kept your body still and tried to focus on your breathing. It didn’t take long for sensation in your hips and pelvis to dull, a strange, numb tingling sensation replacing any contact from the hospital gown pushed up around your waist. It certainly felt… strange. An additional small pinch was felt in the junction of your inner thigh, and a technician spread a generous amount of the familiar, cold ultrasound gel over your lower abdomen before placing the wand firmly against your belly and locating your ovaries through your layers of skin and muscle.

“We’re inserting the speculum now,” the doctor explained, making sure to keep you in the know of what exactly they were doing to you.

You kept quiet. A tugging sensation was felt in your lower body as the cold, metal speculum spread you open, but the anesthesia and pain relievers made it much more tolerable than any pap smear you had ever received. You kept your hands placed over your chest, linking your fingers together as if to secure yourself to the table.

“You might feel a sharper pain, we’re inserting the suction cannula and needle into your vagina.”

“Alright,” you replied, feeling too awkward to stay silent.

Sure enough, a much sharper yet still manageable cramping pain was felt as the suction tube and needle were inserted. You cringed as you felt them press sharply against the wall of your vagina, a sudden, stinging sensation radiating through your body as the needle punctured your inner walls and located your ovarian follicles with the help of the ultrasound machine. You sucked in a sharp breath, alerting one of the nurses.

“Doing alright, hun?” she asked, approaching your side. She was a much older woman, clearly a seasoned nurse, with a few small decorative enamel pins around the collar of her cotton uniform scrubs. She had a soft, motherly face as she gazed at you, her eyes assessing your condition.

“Y-Yeah… just a bit painful,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

“We’ll give you another small dose of pain medication,” she confirmed, tossing you a sweet smile that melted any insecurity in your heart. “You’re doing amazing, sweetheart.”

You couldn’t help but smile back. Something about her seemed to fill the room with a sense of comfort despite having only known her for a mere few seconds. You barely felt the second injection of painkillers in your other thigh, your body slowly growing numb to the sensation of the cannula pressing harshly against your vaginal walls. The nurse came around the table again and rubbed your shoulder reassuringly.

“Still hanging in there, dear?”

“Yes, I am,” you nodded, speaking in a tired tone. “Thank you.”

Her response to your gratuity was another pat on your shoulder. You closed your eyes and tried to focus on your breathing to distract from the dull cramping that radiated throughout your lower body. It felt eerily similar to your miscarriages, with the only comfort in the thought being that you were in a supervised medical environment. Your thoughts shifted to your husband across the world from you. It was an understatement to say that you couldn’t wait for him to get home. You two had barely been without each other since you started dating, and while some have said that your shared lifestyle is only a recipe for relationship burnout, the two of you would adamantly disagree with that sentiment. Law was a rock, a stable sanctuary for your deepest and darkest fears, whereas you were a shining light in his life, bringing him hope when his days seemed to be at their bleakest. What some would call extreme codependency, you would simply call a healthy and mutually respectful relationship with your beloved husband.

God, you missed him.

“And we’re all done!” the doctor announced, ripping you from your thoughts.

“Already?” you asked, picking your head up as the nurse helped your partially numb feet down from your stirrups.

“Yup! We’re sending your samples to the lab to count how many eggs we were able to harvest, so while you wait for a bit in recovery we’ll get to counting,” he explained, taking off his gloves and washing his hands in the sink placed across the room.

The friendly nurse from earlier gave you a gentle pat on your shoulder once more. “You did so well, dear!” She assisted with helping you stand from the table. A pair of disposable panties were handed to you, lined with a thick pad. “You’re probably going to have some light spotting for a few days, you can take these off and replace them with your normal underwear and pads when you get home. Don’t use tampons for about two weeks while your vagina recovers, alright?”

You graciously accepted her help with stepping into the uncomfortable clothing. “Understood.”

You were more than wobbly on your feet, the localized anesthesia making you somewhat dizzy, so you were helped into a foldable wheelchair to push you back to the small outpatient recovery room where Ikkaku was still waiting for you. She stood enthusiastically from her seat when you and the nurse approached, a look of sheer anticipation in her eyes.

“How did it go?” she asked, helping you stand to lay down on the small, stiff mattress.

“I think it went pretty well,” you replied, finally getting to rest your head on a pillow with a content sigh.

The nurse turned toward your friend. “I take it, you're her ride?”

“Yes, ma’am!” the curly-haired brunette nodded. “Is there anything I should be aware of for home?”

“Make sure she’s drinking plenty of water and getting as much rest as she can. It might take a few hours for the feeling to come back in her legs.” She turned to you. “You’ll probably experience a few days of cramping, ibuprofen is more than enough to get you through it! If you experience any significant complications or issues, though, please call us back right away.”

You gave her a polite smile. “Thank you for everything.”

“Of course, sweetheart, it's my pleasure. The doctor will come back when your eggs are counted, and you should be good to leave then, but he’ll give you the discharge paperwork himself when he feels you’re ready.” With a friendly nod, she exited the room and closed the door slightly behind her, leaving it cracked open enough to give you and Ikkaku privacy until the doctor came back.

“So…” she asked. “Did it hurt?”

You laughed at her willingness to know the details. “A little, they stuck this suction tube up inside of me and a needle was pushed through that tube into my vaginal wall.”

Ikkaku held her hand out, a grimace on her face making her eyebrows crease in discomfort. “Alright, that’s enough talking from you.”

You shared a giggle at her weary expression. Once your conversation had simmered, you asked her for your phone so you could send a text to Law and let him know that you were in the recovery room waiting for your eggs to be counted. You tapped the send button and put your phone to sleep mode, knowing that he most likely wouldn’t respond to you for another few hours while he was sleeping. But the thought of him waking up to a positive text from you made your heart flutter. You knew he probably needed it, his voice sounded so tired when you called him back earlier that morning. An entire week of medical conferences and meetings with high-ranking colleagues from across the world would be enough to send anyone into an exhaustion coma, and the first thing you wanted to do when he arrived home was run him a nice bath, maybe light a nice candle, and cuddle him until he suffocated. With love, of course.

Almost 30 minutes of you and Ikkaku sitting in silence on your phones passed by before the doctor came back into your room with your discharge papers and a smile on his face. “Mrs. Trafalgar, we successfully extracted 12 eggs. 7 of them are mature enough for fertilization, which will begin as soon as we get your samples to the lab.”

Ikkaku beamed at you. “That’s amazing!”

You stood from your bed, your legs still fairly wobbly from the anesthesia, and signed the discharge papers that the doctor held. You gave him a fond smile. “Thank you so much.”

“Never a problem, I wish you all the best. Remember to call your usual clinic or us if you have any issues in recovery. Have an amazing day, ladies!” He held the clipboard with your papers firmly under his arm before nodding his head and leaving, keeping the door held open so you could leave whenever.

You took one step forward and almost immediately stumbled to the ground, Ikkaku scrambling for your arms to hold you upright. She looked panicked.

“Are you alright?” she asked, helping you lean against the end of the table.

You laughed under your breath. “I think my legs are still weak from the numbing stuff they gave me… might need to bring me to your car in a wheelchair.”

She gave you a mock salute and ran to a nurse’s station, returning with a small foldable wheelchair similar to the one you were put in immediately after your procedure. She wheeled you out to her car to take you home, cracking ‘grandma’ jokes along the way as if you were a nursing home patient being wheeled to the park.

For the first time in what felt like a millennia, your chest felt light.

A dozen eggs in a basket… or in your case, a petri dish.

#x reader #reader insert #fem reader #law x reader #one piece x reader #trafalgar law x reader #op x reader #trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law #i'm losing you

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sissylittlefeather · 1 day

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Your Love's Been a Long Time Coming: Chapter 4

A/N: Please don't give up on Vivian. It's about to get so good. This is the next chapter in my series about Elvis and Vivian Choquette.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, masturbation (male), fantasies about oral sex (f and m receiving), fantasies about p in v sex, small mention of blood from a football injury

Word count: ~1.6k (the next one will be long probably)

If only he would love her.

******

In the morning, Elvis rolls over and reaches his hand out to find Viv in the bed. When he can't find her, he opens his eyes and sits up.

She's gone.

She must've left sometime before he woke up. He sighs deeply and lays back down. Part of him hoped they might talk or at the very least she might let him hold her for a bit. But she only seems to want that when she's been drinking. He closes his eyes and tries to go back to sleep. Maybe that'll get rid of this feeling.

******

Elvis doesn't see Vivian again until they get back to Memphis. She shows up at his house with some of the mafia members and acts like nothing ever happened. They've all come over for a game of "touch" football one afternoon. This is the first time Viv has been there when they play. He assumes she'll stand on the sidelines and be a cheerleader of sorts, but she doesn't. When it comes time to pick teams, she stands with the rest of the guys.

"Viv, what are you doin' over here?"

"I wanna play."

"No. No way." Elvis shakes his head vehemently. He knows how rough these games can get.

"What the hell? I can play." The guys all chime in cajoling Elvis to get him to let her play. It seems like they're all excited at the prospect of tackling her.

"Alright, fine! But nobody touches her."

"That's literally impossible." It's George that speaks up first looking slyly at her. Viv tries to suppress a giggle. Elvis looks between them and has to swallow a surge of jealousy.

"If you get hurt, it's your own fault."

"Yes, sir." She gives him a fake salute.

"What position do you play, anyway?" Elvis asks as a kind of test.

"Quarterback." He and the guys laugh and she purses her lips. Then she grabs the ball away from him, steps back, and throws it.

The ball sails through the air with a perfect spiral and lands about 30 yards away. Every guy on the field turns and stares at her with his mouth hanging open. Elvis swallows deeply and tries to ignore how attractive that was.

"I grew up on army bases and my stepdad always wanted a son. I know how to play football." She says sternly.

"Okay, then. You can play quarterback on the other team."

"Thanks." The teams line up for the first play with Elvis as quarterback and Viv's team on defense. The game starts and goes on without much drama until the third time Viv is on offense. Elvis is on the sidelines panting and sweating, annoyed that she's beating him. The rest of his team is annoyed too and they're tired of letting her get off easy. Without thinking, she tucks the ball and takes off running, but one of the guys gets to her quickly and absolutely pummels her. He knocks her to the ground and she gets stepped on unintentionally by several other players.

"Hey!" Elvis hollers and runs onto the field. "I told you not to touch her!"

He drags the guy up by his shirt and is just about to hit him when Viv pops up off the ground and grabs his arm.

"Elvis, don't! I'm fine!" He looks over at her as she wipes the blood from her busted lip. Her ponytail is knocked sideways and she's covered in dirt and grass. He has to fight the mixed inclination to hurt the guy who hurt her and go to her and make sure she's okay. "Let's line up again. We have two more downs to kick your ass."

He smiles despite himself and nods. She's ridiculously cute in her determination, but he knows he can't mention it. He runs back over to the sidelines and the game continues. She gets roughed up a couple more times before the game ends, but Elvis keeps himself in control. He finally calls the game over when his team is up and she yells from the sidelines.

"You just couldn't lose to a girl, could you?!"

"I don't lose to anyone!" He yells back. She laughs and wipes the blood from her lip again. He runs over to her and throws his arm around her shoulders. "C'mon, kid, let's get you cleaned up."

Everyone makes their way into the house talking and laughing loudly. Elvis takes Viv to one of the bathrooms and gets a washcloth wet for her. She dabs at her lip in the mirror while he watches.

"I don't think I need stitches. No harm done. Does it look bad?" She turns to him and pouts so he can see her lip.

Don't kiss her. Don't kiss her. Don't kiss her. He has to repeat it to himself.

"Nah, it looks fine. You'll be back to kissing my friends in no time." She pushes his shoulder.

"Yeah, you just wish I was kissing you." She goes back to dabbing her lip with the washcloth and then starts wiping the dirt off of her face. She's right. He does wish that with everything inside him. But he knows better than to push for anything.

He leaves her in the bathroom to finish getting cleaned up and goes back to the rest of his guests.

******

Eventually, everyone goes home or goes to bed. Elvis watches as Viv walks out with George and gets in his car for him to take her home. He sighs deeply and then goes upstairs to get in bed.

He changes into his pajamas and lays down, trying to ignore how empty his bed feels. He knows there are girls he could call and they'd be there without hesitation. But the one girl he wants wouldn't come even if he called her.

His mind drifts back over the day and he thinks about her on the football field: the way she threw the ball, her laugh as she ran, the way she insisted she was fine after getting demolished. He thinks about the way she pouted her lip in the bathroom to see if she was really hurt. And then he imagines kissing her. He thinks about how he could've taken her chin in his hand and then so gently pressed his lips to hers, being careful not to cause her any pain. Maybe she would've wrapped her arms around his neck and let him slide his tongue into her mouth. Maybe she would've pressed her body up against his or rolled her hips against him. Maybe she would've let his hands roam over her, down to her...

Before he realizes what he's doing, Elvis has his hand wrapped around his hardened cock, imagining Viv's long fingers on him. He pushes his pants down to his knees and goes back to stroking himself, sliding his foreskin back and forth. He groans softly and moves his hand gently, creating just enough friction to drive himself crazy. He focuses on Vivian and her beautiful body. He's held her in his arms before; it's not a stretch for him to imagine her undressed and pressed against him. His hands long to feel her soft skin, his thumbs playing with her nipples until he presses his mouth there. He can almost hear her moans as he moves his tongue on her. He strokes himself a little faster, hips bucking into his own hand at the thought of Viv, writhing and pulsing under him as he licks her clit until she reaches a climax. He swipes his thumb over the tip of his dick to collect the bead of precum that's gathered there. What would she be like with her pretty little mouth wrapped around his cock? The thought makes him feel guilty, but he grunts anyway and continues pumping himself. And oh, what it would feel like to slide himself inside her. His dick twitches in his hand at the thought. She probably has a beautiful little pussy and he wants to know what it feels like so badly that it hurts. He wants to give her the most intense pleasure, to hear her moan his name and see her face when she cums. His hand moves up and down on his cock, pinching the foreskin at his tip and rubbing it together as he grinds into his palm.

"Oh, god, Viv!" He whispers as he reaches his release and hot ropes of cum spurt out of him onto his hand.

"Yes, baby... yes, Vivian..." he whispers as he continues to cum, shuddering into his own palm. He sits and breathes for a second as his cock softens.

Annoyed and sad, he finds something to clean himself up with. Why will she fuck everyone but him? But it's more than that. Why won't she love him the way he wants her to, the way he needs her to? He'd be so good to her, if she'd let him.

But, he can't keep thinking about her like this. He needs something else, someone else. His mind drifts back to Priscilla and the letters she keeps writing to him. It's probably time to bring her here and make that official. What does he have to lose? Not Vivian.

******

Vivian rolls over away from George, who is asleep in her bed. She wishes he would leave so she could cry in peace. She seems to be right about Elvis not wanting her anymore, based on his actions today. Even when she made that joke about him kissing her, he stayed aloof. She squeezes her eyes shut to keep the tears from falling.

Oh, Elvis, she thinks. Why won't you come and rescue me from myself?

*******

Until chapter 5!

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