Summary: You're haunting Law's dreams, and he's finally reached his breaking point.
Content: Smut, AFAB!Reader, Wet Dreams, Masturbation, Vaginal Sex
Word Count: 2.8k
Law would give anything to stop thinking about you. At least to stop thinking of you topless, moaning his name.
He had never thought of you in such a way, he would insist to anyone who would listen. No, of course he never had sexual thoughts about you: you’re his friend! One of his closest, oldest, dearest friends. A very beautiful, kind, and beloved friend, whom he had known long before he became the cool and collected captain he was.
Okay, maybe he had a few of those thoughts back when you were both teens and his hormones had run wild. But he pushed them down, like a good friend would. And anything he had done to banish those thoughts was between him and God. That was years ago, anyway, and he had fully convinced himself he only saw you platonically.
Until the damn dreams started.
Law had never been particularly fond of dreams. They were never kind to him. Faces of those he’d lost, those he failed to save, mistakes he couldn’t undo all haunted him at night. He was reluctant to sleep at all most days, only giving in after you or Bepo had forced him to lay down and exhaustion overpowered him. Once he would have been grateful for pleasant dreams or a full night’s sleep.
Law! Yes, Law!
Your voice haunted him, the image of you on top of him. The way you so sweetly called for him, the way you clenched around him, the way your chest bounced with every movement. God, it was intoxicating. He would give anything to hear you call his name like that again. Anything except risk your friendship, one of the only things that kept him grounded in life. When he woke up from the first dream, a stain on his pants and shame in his heart, he swore he would never let something like this affect your relationship.
But then it happened again.
And again.
And again.
Always something different. Sometimes you were on top of him, sometimes below him, sometimes on your knees, sometimes bent over his desk. Every time your beautiful eyes blinked at him, filled with tears of pleasure, your sweet voice keening for him to give you more, more, more. And every time he woke up to a problem needing to be solved and more feelings to push deep down, never to return. Until the next night, when it happened again.
He had never been more grateful that he had his own room. He can’t imagine how humiliating it would be if someone else saw him like this, biting down on his pillow as he rut into his own hand. If someone saw the way tears slipped down his lashes as he sped up, heard his cry of your name muffled into the fabric between his teeth, he would never be able to recover.
But luckily, no one ever would. His shame would stay in the dim light of his cabin, and his carefully protected image of control would remain unblemished. You’d never suspect a thing.
But the thoughts remain.
And he could handle that, really, he could. He’s a grown man, he can control himself. But you just keep pushing him, not even knowing what you’re doing. It’s small things, really. Yesterday, when you laughed at a dumb joke Shachi told you, you leaned forward enough to show off just a hint of your cleavage. Something that shouldn’t even phase him, but made him white knuckle the table to stop himself from throwing you over his shoulder and marching down to his room.
The day before that, you put your hand on his knee during dinner, thumb gently brushing against him as you smiled and told him you thought everything was going to be okay. You’ve comforted him like that a thousand times, but he couldn’t focus on the tender tone of your voice, only the feeling of the warmth of your hand seeping through his pants. He imagined that hand sliding higher and higher, how that warmth would feel somewhere else.
He had to excuse himself from dinner. You thought he was still upset, tried to follow him in concern, and he just barely managed to fend you off before he ran to his bathroom and took care of the hard-on you’d given him. He prayed you didn’t hear his quiet moans of your name or the sound of him pumping his cock in his hand.
A thousand small things, ways you show you care or small motions that show off your body, all building pressure that threatens to burst whenever he looks at you, threatens his carefully crafted control.
You’re so determined to break him, but he remains strong.
Until you wake him halfway through the worst dream yet.
Law! Law! God, yes, Law! Your voice is still ringing in his ears, your cunt still tightening around his cock, as your hand shakes him awake.
“Law! You can’t sleep here, you’ll fuck up your back.” Your voice is so soft, so concerned, as you try to pull him up from his desk. He can already feel the pain in his spine as you pull him to his feet, but he can’t bring himself to care right now.
He’s hard, he’s horny, and you’re right here, your hands on him as he can still hear you screaming his name.
He takes a step forward, his arms threatening to wrap around you, and he can just barely process that you’ve removed your hands from him as your eyes shift away from him.
“Law?” Your voice is meek, nervous, not at all like his dreams. But the red on your cheeks, the way your eyes shine? Those are familiar. He’s so close now.
“Do you know how hard it’s been?” He can barely keep the shake from his voice.
“What?” You take a step back, but your back hits the wall behind you.
“I’ve been holding back for months. Trying to keep control, to not ruin this, but you just,” he takes a step forward.
“Keep,” another step.
“Haunting me.” Your chests are pressed together, and he can feel every breath of yours as your tits press against him. They feel even better than he imagined. He almost expects you to push him away, to run, but you don’t. Instead you stare at him with your stupid, beautiful doe eyes, lips slightly parted, face flushed, and he can’t hold back anymore.
Your lips are soft. They’re slightly tacky from your chapstick, and he’s delighted to find it makes you taste like strawberries. You tense for a moment, and he fears he’s frightened you, ruined everything, but then your arms wrap around him and he knows you’ve wanted this just as badly as he has.
His hands grip your ass as his tongue presses firmly against your lips, which you almost immediately part wider to allow him better access. One of your hands presses firmly against his back, while the other slides forward to grope at his chest. Your fingers press into his shirt, seemingly torn between pulling him closer and feeling every inch of him beneath your fingertips. His hips roll against his will, and the whimper you let out into his mouth destroys what little self control he has left.
He lifts you with ease, pulling you impossibly closer, before throwing you onto his desk, papers and logs be damned. Nothing on it is more important than him being inside of you as soon as humanly possible. In his dreams, he always stripped slowly and sensually, teasing you until you were begging for his touch, his cock, but he’s going to explode if he isn’t inside you within the minute. He practically rips off your uniform, throwing it behind him, where he can hear it take something that sounds suspiciously like his lamp down with it, glass shattering when it hits the floor. He can’t bring himself to give a shit.
“Law,” you say in that squeaky little voice you always get when you’re surprised. “What’s—”
Your sentence breaks off into a moan as he sinks his teeth into your neck. He can smell your shampoo mixing with the scent of your sweat, and god he really might break this desk beneath you if you keep driving him insane. Your hand shoots to the back of his head, gripping his hair and tugging as you continue to let out little whimpers and moans with every thrust of his clothed hips against your panties.
“Every night, you ruin me, and I have to wake up and pretend to forget,” he groans into your neck. “Every night you give me everything I’ve ever wanted just to take it away. You’re cruel.”
He wants to take off his jeans, but he can’t bring himself to remove his hands from you. You’re so much better than his dreams, soft and warm and real beneath his fingers. His mind could never have conjured up such a perfect feeling.
You must have read his mind, because your hands slide his coat from his shoulders, fingers tracing his abs down to his waist. He’s so lost in the feeling he doesn’t understand your intent until you let out an adorable frustrated huff. “Stop moving for a second,” you snap, fingers struggling to grab the button of his jeans.
“I don’t know if I can.”
“If you tackled me to the desk so you can grope me while you cum in your pants I’m leaving.”
The laugh that rips through him stills him just long enough for you to pop the button and rip his pants and underwear down. The fabric catches on his thighs, but you’re stuck, frozen, watching his cock spring out of its prison. Law has always been proud of his body, but nothing has made him feel sexier than watching the way your mouth falls open looking at him.
“You’re drooling,” he chuckles.
“I am,” you say, not taking your eyes off of his dick. You reach for it, fingers tracing lightly up his length, and watch as it twitches in response.
“Don’t tease me,” Law says through gritted teeth. One hand grips the desk for dear life, the only thing holding him back from slamming into you like an animal.
“Oh? Don’t what? I couldn’t hear you.” Your fingers trace back down, following the vein, touching enough to stimulate but not enough to pleasure.
Law is a proud man. He does not beg. He would never—
“God, please—” His voice breaks off once you mercifully wrap your fingers around him, thumb rubbing briefly against the head. He shudders, head falling forward, pressing himself as deeply into you as he physically can.
“It’s even bigger than I imagined,” you murmur.
“You imagined me?” He tries to make his voice sexy and gruff, but it comes out as more of a whine.
“All the time.”
He latches onto your neck, both to get himself to stop talking before he makes himself sound as undone as he feels, and to mark you as his. He desperately needs to leave some kind of sign that this happened, something to tell him tomorrow this wasn’t just another one of his tortuous little dreams. This is real, it is the best thing that’s ever happened to him, and by god is he going to make sure he remembers every single moment.
His free hand reaches for your panties, pulling them down far more carefully than he did your uniform. The delicate lace is a bit less durable than thick canvas. You hiss as your cunt is exposed to the air, your hand slightly tightening around his cock.
He removes himself from your neck to look you in the eye. Your face is flushed, your pupils blown out, and your hair is a mess. You look beautiful. “Ready?”
“Please fuck me already, Captain.”
You barely have time to get your hand out of the way before he’s slamming into your entrance, the force of it shaking the desk beneath you. You feel heavenly, warm and wet, clenching around him. Law lets out an absolutely mortifying noise, halfway between a moan and groan, and you clench around him tighter in response.
“God—”
“Oh Law—”
His dreams didn’t compare to the real thing. Your voice dripping with desire and want, the friction as he pulled out inch by torturous inch, it was beyond dream or fiction. He could never have conceived something so wonderful. He ruts back into you, to the hilt this time, your hips slamming together with near bruising force. The desk shakes again, creaking dangerously, but he doesn’t give a shit and he can’t imagine you do either.
One hand remains on your hip to stabilize you, and the other takes the opportunity to explore your chest as he kisses you. Your teeth clack together, your noses bumping, but none of the awkwardness detracts from the feeling of your soft lips against his. You easily allow his tongue into your mouth, putting up no fight to the tidal wave of lust driving him to consume you whole.
Your chest is so soft beneath Law’s fingers he could weep. His teenage self would have killed a man to feel this, and frankly, he still would now. You whine into his mouth when he pinches your nipple, a sound that he swallows greedily. He wants every part of you, every noise and smell and feeling you can offer.
He tries to keep control of his hips, but he can feel his pace growing quick and sloppy. He wants so desperately to remain in control of everything, to spend the entire night giving you all of the pleasure you could stand, but you feel so good around him and he’s needed this for so very long.
He pulls back for a breath, chest heaving, and he sees your eyes have grown unfocused, your mouth still open as the spit connecting you catches the light.
“Law, yes, god, yes!” You sing like an angel. He can feel your legs growing tense as they tighten around his hips, and he’s assured to know you’re as out of control as he is. His hand reaches down, his fingers not hesitating for a second before finding your clit. His rough fingers press against you, rubbing experimentally as he tries to follow your expressions to see what way will best make you fall apart beneath him. You’re far too gone for such intense study, as every move he makes brings you closer to the edge. Your nails dig into his back, dragging down his shoulderblades, and it takes everything in him not to cum instantly. He’ll be damned if he cums before you do.
Your breath quickens as your moans turn to high pitched whines, growing louder and louder until one final thrust and rub brings you beyond the edge. You throw your head back and scream, your arms pulling him closer until your chests touch, your legs wrapping around him and locking him in place. You spasm around his cock, squeezing as though your life depends on it, and he follows soon after with the small thrusts your legs will allow him.
You collapse beneath him, boneless, as he comes as deep into you as he physically can. He falls on top of you soon after, barely catching himself on his forearms to keep from crushing you. His chest heaves as he tries and fails to catch his breath, so instead of breathing he settles for suffocating while admiring your beautiful flushed face. Your eyelids have fallen shut, your mouth letting out little puffs of air as you struggle with the same problem he is. His dreams never got this far, to the after.
It’s amazing.
You look so amazing fucked-out beneath him, a smile on your face that he’s sure you aren’t even aware is there. He could live in this moment forever, just staring at you, knowing he’s the one who made you look like this.
Even as he leans forward a little too far and a loud crack lets him know the desk is giving out beneath you.
He just barely manages to pull you on top of him so his back hits the floor instead of yours. You’re tucked into his chest, his arms wrapped around you protectively. You stare at the desk’s remains as he stares at you, and when you laugh, his chest tightens. God, he might be more in love with you than before.
As he lifts you, watching the way your eyes sparkle as you giggle and ask how he’s going to explain the desk to the crew, he thinks he can live with some more frustrating dreams. It’ll never compare to the real thing, and he has a feeling you won’t mind him coming to you for more help in the future.
Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece @shy-writer-999 @dreamcastgirl99 @eggrollforyou
PSA to fic readers, it is so hard to freak a fic writer out with your comments. we are just as crazy about the fic as you are.
tell me you love it. tell me it made you slam your laptop shut. tell me you brought it up at your college lecture about kink. key smash in all caps. quote the passage that made you think. i promise, we’ll love it.
we spend hours thinking about it, writing it, editing it. there is no such thing as over enthusiasm when you’re talking about our fics to us. we are sooooo weird about them, i assure you. you are just matching my freak. the freak bar is already set so high. feel no anxiety about enjoying something and letting the creator know.
Synopsis: Law’s infamous “party trick” includes an obsession with your veins. Unfortunately, it seems that you don’t have to be in a “party” setting for him to prod your arms.
Word Count: 1k
Tags/Warnings: No Reader Pronouns, Description and Prodding of Arm and Hand Veins, Modern AU, Law Places His Body Weight on Your Chest, Ice Cream, Self-Indulgence, Humor
Notes: Guilty
He called it his “party trick,” a loaded description that raised too many questions. You couldn’t conjure any scenario in which Law willingly attended a social setting that resembled a party, let alone one where he made a spectacle of himself.
When he first demonstrated it, you didn’t think his “trick” would come up often, let alone regularly. The two of you hardly ever went to parties, and since he called it a “party trick,” you’d assumed it only came out at actual parties. You should have known better.
On a somewhat lesser note, you couldn’t envision anyone being too engaged with a man with the posture of a shrimp, methodically palpating forearms. As his tattooed fingers pressed firmly on your cubital fossa, it became harder to imagine the appeal.
You were having a great time cuddling, even as the clock ticked by—that was until Law’s arm snaked under yours. The fingers of his left hand caressed your wrist, positioning it facing upward on his thigh. Then, seemingly absentmindedly, he probed your inner elbow. You didn’t necessarily mind him touching them, but you didn’t appreciate him poking his nail against your vein.
“Stop it.” You turned to him, frowning. “You’re doing it again.”
Law didn’t react, keeping his eyes glued to the TV. You had to consider that this was Law’s version of a perfect night in: Sixty Minutes of Russian Dashcam Footage on YouTube while feeling up your veins. Meanwhile, you’d sunk forty-seven minutes into this clinical cuddle session, and Law hadn’t given you a milliliter of attention.
“Hm?” He didn’t even acknowledge you as he rolled your vein back and forth. You could see the reflection of two cars colliding in his pupils.
Only when you slapped his hand did he seem to come out of his trance, blinking a few times before finally glancing your way.
“You don’t get to neglect me and play with them,” you hissed, retreating to the opposite side of the couch and taking custody of the blankets as you went. “It’s creepy.”
You curled up in the corner, kicking your feet into Law’s lap. If he wanted to repent, he could pay the toll with a foot rub.
Law glanced from your exposed ankle up to your face. Wordlessly, he paused the video on the TV without looking. “Did you just call me creepy?” he deadpanned, already on the move. Law grasped your ankle and gently set it on the edge of the cushions.
“Yeah,” you huffed, raising your knee to block Law’s path as he crawled toward you. “I think playing with my organs through my skin is creepy.”
Your attempt to obstruct him didn’t do much. You let out an exaggerated groan as Law unceremoniously plopped his weight onto you. You continued to make dramatic sputtering sounds as Law’s face settled into your chest. His hand ran up your arm, gently grasping your hand next to your head.
“You’ve got nice veins,” Law mused, rubbing circles on the back of your hand with his thumb. “Which, by the way—” He propped himself up on his elbows. “Aren’t classified as organs.”
You choked out another wheeze. “Heavy nerd… crushing my rib cage!” you gasped. You brought your free hand to your forehead, swooning. “If only a doctor were nearby to give me CPR and stop messing with my veins!”
You reached over and smacked his fingers; he’d been toying with a vein on the back of your hand even as he held it. Law recoiled from your touch at the reprimand, and you returned to your dramatic swooning.
“CPR would surely resuscitate me!” you declared breathlessly. “And don’t forget the love and attention on the side…”
Law glanced down, his fingers slipping under the hem of your shirt. “Oh yeah,” he hummed, his fingertips grazing your stomach. “I can start chest compressions right now.”
“Hey!” You scrambled up, your back pressed against the couch’s armrest. Law still knelt between your thighs. His eyes glimmered with playful mischief. Must’ve been all the car crashes. You prodded a finger at his chest. “You, sir, are in a mood today.”
“I’m in a mood?” he mocked offense. “With the way you’ve been rolling your eyes at me?”
You leaned forward, cupping Law’s face in both hands. You tsked a few times, shaking your head. “Baby, baby, hey. Shhh…” Law stared at you, unamused, as you pressed a finger to his lips. “I hate to break it to you, but there are only so many car crashes you can see before they all start to look the same.”
You felt Law grin.
“Okay, but did you see that one with the bridge?” he asked.
You let out another groan and let yourself collapse back onto the couch. “Fine,” you stressed. “Forget about me. Forget about what time it is. Go back to watching your car accidents, you freak.”
Law’s brows furrowed. “What time is it?” He glanced at the clock, studying the numbers for a moment. “Oh,” Law hummed, understanding. “You want ice cream.”
You shook your head. “Dunno what you’re talking about.”
“C’mon,” Law groaned as he lifted himself off the couch. He walked to the kitchen, and you could hear the jingle of his keys. “Let’s go. We can get you ice cream.”
You turned to lean over the armrest, your mouth gaping. “Not if you’re going to say it like that.”
Law appeared in the door frame, a frown on his lips. “Like what?” he asked.
“We’re only getting me ice cream?” you gasped in horror, already melting back into the couch.
Law’s frown remained as he watched you tug the blankets back onto you. Yeah, you were in a mood today.
“It’s expensive,” Law said, as if that would help. You cocooned yourself even deeper. Law shook his head and crossed the room to rip you out into the real world. You cried out in protest. “Oh, so you’re going to be difficult now that I’m taking you to ice cream?”
He scooped you off the couch, ushering you to the door. You smirked the whole time, victorious in getting your way.
Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.
Captain! HardDom!Law / Crew!Reader
Pairing: Trafalgar D. Water Law x Fem!Reader (No use of y/n)
Summary: You and your Captain have been imprisoned. Law has been injected with some kind of drug and you're shackled to the wall. Your crew is on the way, but if Law's fever doesn't break, he won't last before they get here.
CW: Sex Pollen (But its a drug- Law Knows), DubCon, Medical Terminology, Restrained (F), Blood (Law's), Dirty Talk, Fingering (F Rec), Spit (F Rec), Creampie, Dick tattoos cause i like them, Confessing Feelings, Unspoken Feelings
ANGST, Law is regretful. Considers Erasing Reader's Memory of the Event DD:DNE
Word Count: 3.8k
Stayed up past my bedtime for this one, but wowie I was not sleeping until I got it out of my system (⸝⸝๑﹏๑⸝⸝)
➽──────────────❥
Law understands his body more than most people do. He is intimately familiar with the precise working of himself down the atom. He can tell you his exact molecular composition and the count of his blood at the drop of a hat. He has taken himself apart and examined his own organs from the inside out. He knows his body. He knows it well. Better than any doctor had known themselves.
So he knew something was wrong. He clocked the change nearly the exact moment it occurred. The rise of his temperature, the quickened pulse, and the fog descending across his thoughts. The symptoms worked dangerously fast, but it wasn’t until he felt the flood of testosterone and the rapid escalation of adrenaline that it all clicked into place just what exactly he had been dosed with.
“Captain?”
His power could remedy this without issue.
If he was able use it.
“Captain?”
But he is locked in sea prism stone prison, the metal draining him of all ability. It also lowers the baseline levels of his energy, which means the drug is tearing through his system all that more potently.
“Captain!” Finally, Law’s gaze snaps to you. “What’s happening?” Your eyes are wide with concern, completely unaware that you are the one in the most danger here.
It hadn’t made sense to him at first. They’d tossed you both into this cell, but you were the only one chained to the wall. But, now- he understood completely. It was part of the torment. A cruel, vicious sort of torture, forcing a betrayal so pervasive between captives. Law hated to admit it, but it was a disgustingly effective sort of torture to force the wedge between Captain and Crew.
Your chains rattle as you try to make even the smallest bit of headway in freeing yourself. You have to get your Captain out of this cage. Whatever they had given him was making him seriously sick and without his power you weren’t sure if he’d be okay. Let alone survive long enough for the rest of the crew to find you.
Law barks your name in a tone that immediately halts your movements. “I need you to be quiet and be still.” You do as he says without question. You trust your Captain completely. Regardless of how worried you are, you have to believe he has a plan- or is working on one. Your Captain was the smartest man you’d ever met and you knew there was nothing he couldn’t figure out. You just hoped he figured it out before whatever was wrong with him got worse.
Law sits with his back to you, knees to his chest, head pressed into them. His hands cover his ears. Trying to make his body small, to block out as many of his senses as he can. He tries to breathe as little as possible. The position is slowing the effects of the poison, but it is so minuscule his rational mind tells him it won’t make a difference. Law grits his teeth in frustration, running equations through his head- trying to figure out if he could sus the exact composition of the drug coursing through his body.
You scan your eyes over the the cell, looking for something- anything- that could help. But you come up just as empty as you have for the past hour. It’s dark here, the only light comes from the fire lit sconces in the hall. There’s a drip drip drip from somewhere, but you don’t see a leak. You observe your surroundings the way Law taught you to. Pick an object and pick it apart, then move to the next and the next.
The bars were too small to fit through. The biggest structural weakness of any cell was the door so you pick apart the hinges and the keyhole. The scrape on the floor from years of being open and shut. But, nothing particularly jumps out at you.
The cell is small, sea prism lines both the walls and the floors. There was only the one set of shackles in the room, but it was odd that they chained you up instead of your Captain- when he so clearly was the greater threat between you. You figure it must mean they’re confident that whatever they dosed him with will keep him docile- or worse.
You take a deep, shuddering breath. The air here is so hot and humid, it's hard to breath in for the full ten-count your Captain would always remind you to do. The crew knows where you are- or where you were going- and they know what the plan is. You were both supposed to be back by now. They have your vivre cards. Undoubtedly, they were on their way here right this very second to save you both. You had complete, unshakable faith in your crew. They would come. They would find you.
The only thing that worried you was if your Captain would be okay until they got here from the whole other side of the island.
There was a soft clink of your chains as you slightly shifted and Law groans. His intoxicated mind already whispering devious madness in his ears. Telling him how close you are. How helpless. All chained up with no way to run from what he wanted to do to you.
Law growls in frustration, pressing his hands harder against his ears as if it could keep out his inside thoughts. Even sans the sound of your voice, his body was still reacting to your proximity. You’re as far apart from each other as you can be in the cell, but it wasn’t enough. He can feel your presence at his back. So close, so alluring. And as his senses keep heightening- he can smell you. The sweat on your skin, the scent of your sex that hadn’t yet slicked for him.
Law bites down hard on his tongue, trying to stifle the way his mind his thinking- using the pain to overwrite the receptors of sensation. But, it doesn’t help. The drug has bonded to him so completely it’s shutting out any stimulus that doesn’t align with his baser biological need. If anything, the taste of his own blood only spurs it on. Violence and arousal often stimulated similar regions of the brain. The drug was amping up his animalistic urges across the spectrum. The angrier he became, the more aroused he became. The more aroused he became, the more aggressive he became. Unless he could get the fever under control they would just keep feeding into each other.
But it was near impossible to do that when your presence alone hitched it higher. And his rational mind- what was left of it- was vaguely aware that the one thing that was going to bring the fever down before it killed him was the one thing he was determined not to suspect you to.
“Bring your knees to your chest,” he grinds out, “make your body as small as possible.” You don’t respond, but he knows you’ve done exactly as he ordered. You’re always so obedient for him. The new position muffles your scent, but not by much. It buys him maybe a couple extra minutes of rationality. But he’s torn on what exactly to do with it. He can’t see any way out of this and he won’t be able to prevent what’s about to happen.
“Listen,” he says, voice deepening, “the drug they gave me- it’s making me sick. Really sick.”
“Captain,” your voice washes over him and his cock jumps. “Tell me what to do,” your voice is desperate, but willing. You’ll do anything he tells you. You always do. Always so well behaved.
“The fever is going to kill me,” he states plainly and its the truth. He can’t think of any way to prevent it here- in this cell. At least, not any way that doesn’t involve giving into what his body wants to do to you.
“No!” There’s a sharp rattle as you press as far forward as you can. “No, Captain! I’ll get out of here. The carpometacarpal, right? I think I can crush it if I-“
“Don’t,” he barks.
“I’m not going to let you die,” you snap, chains rattling. Law turns around to see you trying to maneuver into a position to break your hands. He quickly moves across the room and grabs your arms, halting your attempts.
You gasp, “Captain… you’re burning up.” His hands are hot were he has them wrapped around you. There's heat radiating off him and it rushes towards you like a fire licking at your skin. “Captain,” you plead, “what do we do? Tell me, please.” His eyes are fixed where your arm is trapped in his grip and they’re dark- nearly pitch black.
Your eyes follow his gaze where his burning hand has you in a vice grip and you think you must know the dilemma he’s grappling with. You don't. “Break it,” you tell him and his eyes snap to yours. “If you have to break it, do it. I can take it.” You keep your face even, trying to convince him of your resolute bravery, but he feels the way your pulse quickens in apprehension.
“You can take it, hm?” A wicked grin slices across face, “you’ll just take anything I give you, won’t you?”
You blink, brows furrowing at his words. That adorable little crease between your eyes pulls him back from the edge- just a little. He rips his hands off you. “Don’t break anything,” he rattles. “It won’t help.”
“Then what will,” you beg. Your eyes start to glisten and theres a tremble to your lip he wants to suck between his teeth. “Captain, please. Please.”
Law groans, cock twitching at the sound of your begging. He places a hand against the wall beside your head, keeping you caged. Not that you could go anywhere. Not that you could get away from him.
“The drug is a kind of stimulant. The fever increases neurotransmitter activity, amplifying base hormones that require a counterbalance to-“
“Law,” you interrupt his rambling, “what do you need?”
“I need to fuck you.” Your mouth drops, reeling back- completely caught off guard by his response. But you know he’s deathly serious. “I am going to fuck you.” His voice is gravely, thick and trembles with remorse, “I won’t be able to stop myself.”
He looks straight at you and you watch as the darkness eats away at the gorgeous golden dawn of his eyes. Before it’s gone you have to tell him- he has to know- “It’s okay, Captain. It’s okay. You can do it, whatever you need.”
His face crumples and drops to the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent and he nuzzles into you for a just a moment before you feel it. The shift. A change to the atmosphere, a change to the way he touches you.
He laughs darkly against your throat, “whatever I need, hm?” he drags his teeth up and nips at your jaw, “and if I need to spread you open and drive my cock into your little cunt?”
Your breath hitches and his hot fingers grip your chin, forcing you to look at him. “Answer me,” he orders.
“Y-yes,” you answer.
“Yes, what?” he snarls.
“Yes, Captain.”
His grin is satisfied as he drags his thumb across your lips. “Say it,” he urges. Blush blooms across your face and you avert your eyes. He snaps your name, “you will look at your Captain when you speak to him.” He leans in, tongue barely flitting over your lips as he hisses once more, “Now say it.”
“Y-you can have…” you lips tremble, “you can have your way with me, Captain.”
Law slams his hand into the stone by your head, making your yelp. “That is not what I said.” He tilts his head, “you’re being a bad girl, not listening to your Captain.”
Your tongue darts over your lips and his slides out to mirror you. “I’m sorry, Captain.”
“Try again.”
You swallow, trying not to look away from him as you repeat his filthy words, “you can spread me open, Captain. You can drive your-” you stutter just a little, “y-your cock into my little cunt.”
He smiles at you, fingers brushing your cheek. “Good girl.” His face softens as he caresses you, “always my good girl…” Your heart flips and he cocks a brow, leaning forward to look into your eyes. “You like that, don’t you? You like being Captain's good girl.” There’s a fluttering low in your tummy and Law grins- watching how your pupils dilate. “Oh, you like it a lot.”
He leans back on his knees, letting his eyes roam over your restrained body. “But I already knew that.” Law shrugs his jacket off his shoulders. “So tell me something-” he peels his shirt off his back, “-that I don’t know.”
Despite yourself, your eyes roam over your Captain's body, trailing the lines of his tattoos drawn through the ridges of his muscle. Despite how decorated his skin was, he so rarely showed it. “I…” you snap your eyes back up to his, “I like to look at you.”
He shakes his head, shoulders shaking as he laughs, “you think I don’t know that?” Embarrassed heat flushes through you. “You think I don’t see the way you watch me? You think I don’t let you watch?” His grin turns devious, “tell me what you do to yourself when you think about me.” You stammer, while Law’s hands start undoing his pants. “Go on.”
“I…” your thighs press together as you confess in a small voice, “I touch myself.”
“What?” he teases with a tilt of his head, “Can’t hear you.”
Your heart thumps wildly, “I touch myself when I think of you, Captain.”
Your Captain leans forward and fists the fabric of your shirt- and your bra with it. “I know,” he shrugs- then rips in one strong motion, tearing your clothes away.
You gasp, unable to cover yourself with your hands chained to the wall. “C-captain!” Despite that, you still yank on the restraints as if it would make a difference. Law’s cock twitches watching you struggle and he slides his pants over his knees, finally leting it fall free.
Your eyes snap to his cock, mouth falling open. “Now you have something new to look at,” his tone is arrogant, enjoying the way you take him in. Your eyes trace the low tattoos striping over his low waist to wind around his cock. His hand rubs up the underside of his shaft and it jerks against his touch, precum oozing from his slit. “You gonna think about this when you touch yourself?”
“Yes, Captain.”
He chuckles, “good girl. So honest.” Law slides forward and grabs the waist of your shorts, yanking them down over your curves and tossing them to the side with the rest of your ruined clothes. You’re completely naked for him now, strung up and exposed.
You squeeze your legs together, pulling your knees up, trying to instinctually preserve a bit of your modesty. Your Captain continues stroking his cock as he looks at you. “Spread your knees.” You bite your lip with a whimper. “That’s an order.” You move them apart a touch. “Wider.” A little bit wider.
Law growls grabbing both knees and throwing them apart, pinning them back against the wall, where you leave them as he leans back to admire the sight. “Why you trying to hide from me, hm? Are you embarrassed?” You cry out when he suddenly sticks a finger into you and drags it up through your slit. He inspects it with a grin before holding it out to you. “Embarrassed by how wet you are?” He brings the finger back and sticks it into his mouth, moan from the taste of you dropping deeper when he sees your cunt squeeze around nothing.
“Yes, Captain,” you answer.
He pulls his finger from his mouth with a pop and hauls your hips up into his lap. Your fingers tighten around your chains as his fingers spread you open. You gasp as he rubs his tumbs to either side of your clit, head tilting back with a moan.
Law uses his thumbs to stimulate your clit in ways you’ve never felt before while his knuckles spread your dripping cunt. “You like this? That’s the root of your clit,” his voice slips back into a familiar instructional tone. “When I press like this,” you cry out, hips bucking into his hands. “Enhances sensitivity, by increasing the blood flow there…” He’s so focused of perfecting the technique of it on your body it almost feels like he’s himself again-
He spits on your clit, making your body jerk. “Get it nice and swollen,” he chuckles as if he’s amused with himself, “you’re gonna cum so fucking hard on my cock.” Your pussy clenches around the points of Law’s knuckles where he keeps stretching your hole open.
He looks up at you, hands not stopping. “You still haven’t told me something I don’t know.”
He hums when your brow furrows, searching your mind for something you could offer him. “Y-you gave me your hoodie when we were on the Kazen Islands…”
“Mhm.”
“I still have it.”
“I kno-“
“I sleep in it, sometimes.” Laws hands slow and his eyes soften at the intimacy of the confession. Despite everything you have been doing, it’s only now that you feel the most vulnerable- the most exposed.
Law wraps your legs around his waist and slides his hands up your body. He leans forward, giving you more slack on the chains and letting your weight rest in his lap. His face nuzzles into your neck, lips pressing into your pulse- his voice is just a breath against it. “You used my shower when the pipes were busted.” Another press of his lips, kissing up your neck- “you left your hair tie on my sink.” You feel the head of his cock slide easily into you Law kisses the hollow of your ear, “I keep it in my nightstand.”
His hips press forward and he lets you feel every inch of his cock as slides home. You groan deeply, legs tightening around him. Your hands instinctively try to wrap around his body, but are stopped by the chains. “Captain~” you moan. He thrusts into you, deep and steady, his arm keeping your back from hitting the jagged stone.
His other hand finds its way between your bodies, pressing into your clit. It’s just as sensitive as he promised it would be. He circles his fingers atop your bud, still wet with your slick and his spit. He slowly increases the pressure and his hips pick up speed.
The ground splits the skin of Law’s knees, but the sting of it is drowned out by how deliciously your body takes him, squeezing him in deeper. He holds you tighter, lifting a little higher to keep your wrists slack. Even in his state, sapped of his natural energy, he could do this. For you- his pretty girl, so soft- he wasn’t putting you on the ground. He knows at his pace the stone would scrape you up and the only marks that belong on your body are his.
Laws mouth returns to the pulse at your throat and sucks, his tongue darting over the sensitive flesh. His fingers press into your clit faster now, relentless, desperate for the sweet clench of your body.
“Captain…” you moan, “I’m… I’m getting close.”
His mouth parts from your flesh with a stand of his drool, “Good girl. Need you to cum on your Captain’s cock.” His fingers roll faster over your clit, near vibrating and you tilt your head back.
“Yes, I’m gonna- Captain, I’m…”
Law plows himself into you, snarling through his teeth- desperately holding on until he feels that first squeeze of your orgasm. “Say my name, baby. Say my name.”
“Law-!“ his name breaks over your tongue as you cum and Law arches his back as he spurts into you.
“Fuuck,” he groans, jerking his hips to milk every drop into you, “so fucking tight.”
Your body convulses as you come down from your high and Law scoots knees to the wall so you can sit in his lap. He wraps both arms around your back to keep you off the stone. You still can’t put your arms around him, but you drop your head into the crook of his neck, still in the aftershock of your orgasm.
Your breaths are shallowing, gasping for air and his fever begins to recede, the fog just barely starting to lift. He tightens his hold on you as he feels your lips tremble against his skin, “Captain…”
“Shhh…” he soothes. “I’m here, I got you. Captain’s got you.”
Your body grows heavy, the exhaustion of your circumstances finally settling over you.
➽──────────────❥
You’re still sleeping in Law’s arms an hour later. You’re dressed now, though. He put your shorts back on and slid his shirt up your legs, tying the arms around your back to keep it from slipping down- and he’s back in his pants and his jacket. He used the ruined scraps of your clothes to clean you of himself and you barely stirred.
He holds you close to the wall, easing the tension from your restraints. He can see the raw red skin beneath the shackles and his chests twists that he may have caused some of it. He was too rough with you- far too rough. And though he knows you’re going to forgive him for it, he hates that your first time together was so tainted. He’d spent so long imaging how it could go- how it would go, one day- and this was not even a shadow of what you deserved.
He would have to make it up to you- somehow.
Or, maybe he’d have to make you forget.
He could do that once his power returns. And maybe he should. He has no idea how you will look at him now- and if he can survive it. Part of him wished he’d just let the fever take him instead. But, you never would have let that happen. You were ready to shatter your own body just to be next to him in a cell neither of you could escape from.
He can feel the shudder through the stones and hear the commotion floors above that tells him the crew has arrived. He never had any doubt they would.
And even though you wake when the cell is pried open and your cuffs are removed, Law still carries you all the way home.
Summary: While escaping Law's hold you left him with your physical heart. It's a power play he doesn't fully understand yet. By leaving your heart with him, you've bound yourself to him in a way that goes beyond physical restraint. He has your heart. But you have something far more dangerous. You have his attention. And when you finally decided to show yourself, you come asking a favor making Law's already conflicting thoughts worse. Pride is a foolish, broken man. Lust will kill you with her demands
Trafalgar Law x f!reader
Word Count: 2,495
Part one |
Song:
Law wakes to the same sight every morning.
Your heart sits on his desk, glowing softly in the semi-darkness of his quarters. The steady rhythm of its beat is impossible to ignore. a constant reminder of what he's holding, and the fact that he hasn't crushed it yet.
He should.
His hand hovers over the cube every morning. It would be so easy. One squeeze. Problem solved. You'd be dead, the threat neutralized, your knowledge buried with you. You've proven you know too much and the threat of you sharing those details with the wrong person is real.
But every morning, he sees your smirk. Hears your voice: "But you won't."
And every morning, his hand falls away.
Law's nose flares as he leaves his quarters, and his thoughts never improve throughout the day.
At breakfast, he stares at his food and thinks about how easy it would be to just kill you. The thought is satisfying, logical, necessary.
By lunch, he's pacing his office, consumed by the question of what else you know. What other vulnerabilities you've uncovered. What other secrets you could weaponize against him.
By dinner, he's thinking about your curves, your smile, the way you brushed your hand across his cheek and called him cute as a distraction.
His face goes red at the memory.
Tonight, he pulls at his hair as he stares at the heart before he gets up with a huff and storms off the Polar Tang. He needs to think. Needs distance. Needs to get you out of his head—which is pathetic and weak and something he won't admit to anyone.
The tavern is crowded enough to be distracting. He moves to the bar and slumps into a barstool, waving to the bartender. A small pitcher of sake and a ceramic cup arrive. The warmth of the liquid is immediate, but the mental clarity he's hoping for never comes.
Drinking to forget something tends to do the exact opposite. Every time he closes his eyes, your face is there.
He pulls at his hair again, frustrated with himself. He doesn't even know what he should do. Crush that blasted heart—yes, that's the obvious choice. But outside of that? What is the next smart option?
He takes another swig of his drink.
Is this why you left him your heart? To trap yourself in his mind like this? To drive him insane?
Or was there a deeper reason?
Why would you leave yourself so vulnerable to him?
The questions spiral, and the sake isn't helping. He puts his head on the counter and waves his hand to summon the bartender. "I would like to close out," he mumbles, lifting his head.
The alcohol isn't helping his thoughts.
He pulls out coins, ready to leave, but the bartender waves him off. "No need. It was already paid for."
Law stiffens instantly. His hand moves toward his sword before his head whips around to scan the bar.
"By who?"
"By me."
Your voice appears beside him like a ghost materializing from smoke.
Law jumps—actually jumps—and his emotions twist violently. Anger. Relief. Frustration. Want. All tangled together in a way that makes his blood burn hot and cold simultaneously.
"You," he hisses, his dark eyes snapping to yours.
You chuckle and settle into the seat beside him with casual ease. "I need a favor."
"A favor," he sneers, his voice dripping with disdain. "What makes you think you can ask me for a favor?"
You pout slightly, looking him over, the flushed skin, the tousled dark hair, the death grip he has on the bar, before pushing away. "Fine. Forget I asked. Enjoy your drink."
Law's arm shoots out, grabbing your arm. You smirk at the contact.
"You aren't going anywhere," he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "If you've forgotten, I still have your heart. You are still my prisoner."
"I knew you'd missed me," you snicker, sitting back down. Law's grip doesn't loosen.
You give him a flirty smile that deepens his scowl.
"Why?" His voice tightens. "Why are you here? Why would you risk yourself like this?"
You chuckle, getting comfortable in the seat despite his grip. "I wouldn't say being here with you is risking myself."
"And leaving your heart with me."
"Call it securing my connections."
He tightens his hold. "What do you want with me?"
"While investigating you, I found we have some similar interests. And goals." You rest your free arm on the bar, chin in your palm. "Taking down Doflamingo."
Law freezes.
His eyes go wide. Something squeezes at his insides; panic, recognition, something he doesn't want to name. He tenses immediately, his eyes shooting around the bar to see if anyone overheard you.
No one is close enough. But the fact that you said it so casually, so openly—
He yanks you up and drags you out of the tavern without another word.
You stumble, waving at concerned onlookers while Law pulls you along like cargo. Your breathless laugh should annoy him. It doesn't.
"You could just ask nicely to come back to your ship," you tease, wiggling your eyebrows.
He doesn't respond. His jaw is clenched too tight.
As he drags you through the corridors of the Polar Tang, his mind is already working through the implications. You know about Doflamingo. You know he has a connection to Doflamingo. You know—
He slams his quarters door open and shoves you inside.
Your brows raise in surprise. "Your quarters. I'm a little surprised, but then again I must have been in your mind for the past few weeks."
Law scoffs before shoving you into a chair. He steps back, crossing his arms, staring down at you while you settle in with a relaxed smile that makes him want to strangle you and something else simultaneously. A thought that disturbs him.
"Explain yourself. Now."
You sigh—genuine, not playful. "I know you're upset that I investigated you, but it wasn't personal. I've been investigating all the Donquixote Pirates."
"I am not a Donquixote Pirate," Law snarls immediately, his control slipping. "I have zero association with them."
"Which is exactly why you're interesting," you smirk. "Because you want Doflamingo dead as much as I do."
Law tenses. His expression hardens. "What makes you think that?"
You chuckle and there's something almost fond in it. "Law, I don't treat you like you're stupid. Don't treat me like I am. I know your history with him. I know you have a plan."
His eyes narrow. He's calculating, running through what you might know, what you've deduced, how much of a threat you actually are. But more importantly, he's trying to figure out why you're here, why you came back, why you're pushing this.
"Where is the rest of your crew?" he asks quietly.
You flinch, and for the first time, you break eye contact. That's answer enough.
Law snorts. "You got caught. That's why you're here. You think that because I have a complicated history with Doflamingo that I'll help you. And save your crew—if they're even alive."
"They're alive," you snarl, your playful demeanor dropping away. "Diamante figured us out. We separated to avoid capture. We gathered intelligence. We just need a plan."
"What intel?"
"Everything on all the elite members."
"And Doflamingo himself?"
You frown. "The only records we couldn't access are in Mary Geoise."
“Mary Geoise?” Law repeats the name slowly, his mind already putting the pieces together.
"That's where Doflamingo and Rosinante were born." You confirmed.
"They're Celestial Dragons." He says it quietly, as if saying it out loud will make it less true, but his eyes had already started to widen, as it made a strange amount of sense.
You nod. "Their father lost their title when they were kids. They were cast out and shunned by the world. He was killed for it."
Law shifts to his bed, sitting on the edge as the information settles over him like a weight. His hand comes up to hold his head, and for just a moment, he looks vulnerable. You give him a moment to settle his thoughts to fully process what that information truly means.
"And you possess the Will of D," you continue after a long moment, leaning forward.
His head snaps up. "Do you even know what that means?"
"It means you're a natural enemy to the World Nobles. To the celestial dragons."
"No," he says angrily, locking his eyes with yours. "It means I'm cursed. Cursed to be surrounded by death and destruction."
"I don't believe that," you say, and your voice is steady. "I believe the Will of D is what's going to lead us to the next era. One without the World Government."
Something in his gaze shifts, but he pushes past it. "What do you achieve by taking down Doflamingo?"
"My country back."
"Dressrosa seems glad to have him as their leader. The government backs him. And your entire country is flourishing."
"We were flourishing before he took over," you say firmly. "He stole the throne through deception. When the people learn the truth, they'll want him gone."
Law stands abruptly. "Either way, you're wasting your time. I will not be helping you."
You smirk. "Then why am I here?"
He pauses. Why did he bring you back aboard his ship? Why did he drag you to his quarters specifically? Why not just throw you in the brig?
Because he wanted to see you. Because he wanted to hear you explain yourself. Because somewhere between that tavern and this moment, his mind made a decision his pride refuses to acknowledge.
You lean back, and your smile widens. "You're either interested in my prospects or interested in me. Or both."
Law's jaw clenches so hard you're surprised his teeth don't crack.
His eyes drift to the heart sitting on his desk—the one that's been taunting him for weeks. The one that bounds you to him.
"You're dangerous," he hisses.
"I have been called that."
His fist clenches. He moves to the desk and grabs your heart.
You barely glance at it before raising a brow.
"I should kill you right now," he declares, holding your heart out threateningly.
You lean closer to him, and your voice is steady. "Then do it."
There's zero fear in your eyes.
Law stares down at the heart in his hands, and the same thoughts cycle through his mind. All the reasons he should crush it. But then the same conflicts—the image of your smirk, the way you look at him like you already know he won't, the certainty in your gaze that he can't quite bring himself to destroy.
"Who have you told my full name to?" he asks instead.
You deflate slightly, out of boredom with the question. "No one. Not even my crew knows."
You lean back, relaxing. "If you kill me, you kill all the intel I've gathered. Your name, your relation to Corazon, your connection to Sengoku, the true power of the Ope-Ope Fruit."
Law's brows pinch. "I have no connection with Sengoku."
"Odd," you hum. "Rosinante was his adopted son, of sorts. He seems to know about you."
His eyes widen at the revelation.
"This is why you won't kill me," you continue, bringing his attention back to you. "I may know too much about you, but I know far more about far more important people."
You gesture toward the heart. "I'm more useful alive. But that's your choice. You have that power."
Law looks down at your heart, steady and glowing, and realizes that you're not lying. You're not scared. You know he doesn't have it in him.
He looks back at you—at the certainty in your eyes, the relaxed set of your shoulders. Like you've already won.
His eye twitches.
He summons a Room, and you're plunged into darkness.
You fall to cold metal, the chair vanishing from beneath you. You reach out to steady yourself as your eyes adjust. The boiler room. You groan at the familiarity before moving to sit up.
That's when you feel it—cold metal around your ankle. A chain, clasped and secured to one of the pipes.
You drop the chain, frustrated, and it clinks loudly in the darkness.
Law sits at his desk, your heart glowing softly in its cube, and runs both hands through his hair.
This is a problem.
A problem he created the moment he decided not to crush your heart that first morning. A problem he made exponentially worse by going to that tavern, by letting alcohol lower his defenses, by being unable to resist when you appeared beside him.
You'd figured him out.
Not just his past, not just his history—you'd figured out what he wants. What he needs. You'd dangled the possibility of taking down Doflamingo in front of him knowing that his pride wouldn't let him refuse outright, but his pride also wouldn't let him accept easily.
It was brilliant manipulation.
It was infuriating.
It was working.
Because the truth is, he does want Doflamingo dead. Has wanted it since Rosinante died. The thought of taking down the man who'd ruled him, who'd owned him when he was a kid—it calls to something deep inside that he's spent years suppressing.
His pride.
Wanting something means needing something. Needing something means vulnerability. And Law has spent his entire life ensuring he's vulnerable to nothing and no one.
Until you.
You with your knowing smirk and your fearless attitude and your determination to drag him into a war he never agreed to fight. You with your heart sitting in a cube on his desk—a constant reminder that he has power over you even as you systematically dismantle his ability to think straight.
Law picks up the heart and squeezes it gently—not enough to hurt you, just enough to remind himself that he's still in control.
But he isn't. And he knows it.
He sets it back down and stands, pacing his office like a caged animal. He needs to think. Needs to figure out how to handle this without letting you completely take over.
But as he paces, questions surface that he shouldn't be asking.
What happened to your crew? Are they really alive? How badly is your country suffering under Doflamingo's rule? And more importantly—how much of what you said was true?
The worst part is that he knows the answer. You weren't lying. Everything you told him about Doflamingo and Rosinante—that's information that would take years to uncover. You didn't fabricate it to manipulate him. You told him the truth because you knew it would be more effective than any lie.
You used honesty as a weapon.
Law stops pacing and looks at your heart again.
The steady rhythm of its beat is almost hypnotic.
You're right—he does want Doflamingo dead.
His pride rebels against the thought.
But his heart—the one still beating in his chest—knows the truth.
He's already decided to help you.
He's just too proud to admit it yet.
Damn You!
A/N: Thank you for reading! if you enjoy post like this check out my Masterlist. and if you want to send me a request for my next post please send me a message! If you liked this and want to support me I have a tip jar on Ko-fi.
Summary: You are a woman from Dressrosa who has fooled the mightiest of men and made Nations crumble from within. Using your charms you trick Penguin and Shachi and sneak onto the polar tang looking for information on surgeon of death. Only Law is not so easily fooled, or so he thinks. Law is full of pride, his darkness lies inside and is as sharp as a knife. There's never a doubt inside his mind that he has you under his control when he takes you and your heart prisoner after catching you snooping, but his ego makes him blind to your true motives.
Trafalgar Law x f!reader
Word Count: 3,795
A/N: This technically a rewrite of slight of hand first two parts but with more flirtations and more lust vs pride themes. I wanted to return to this after listening to the song Lust by Marino, Alexandria because I felt it fit well. Should be clear this is PG13, Sorry that's all I ever write, with things typically cut off after a kiss.
Law watches from the deck of the Polar Tang as Shachi and Penguin stumble up the ramp, dragging someone between them with exaggerated fanfare. They're both thoroughly drunk—laughing, gesticulating wildly, introducing you as if your the greatest treasure they've ever found.
You play the part perfectly. Innocent smile. Wide eyes. The kind of woman who looks lost and delighted to have found company.
"And thissss is our first mate Law!" Shachi announces, tripping over his own words as he points at the dark-haired captain standing with crossed arms.
Law doesn't even acknowledge the hand Shachi tries to place on his shoulder. He just watches. Observes.
And he sees it immediately.
The glint in your eyes. The way your gaze darts to valuables as you're led through the corridors. The practiced ease with which you move through the space, cataloging, assessing, planning.
You're not here for the company.
A slight smirk plays at the corner of his mouth. This should be interesting.
Penguin leans close to Law, whispering urgently. "Captain, please just go along with it. We're trying to impress her."
Law rolls his eyes but doesn't protest. He trails behind as they show you around, staying just out of earshot. He watches your hand move with practiced precision—pocketing a golden figurine here, a expensive compass there. Each movement is smooth, confident.
When you finally leave the submarine, you're practically glowing with success. You wave goodbye to the boys who whine for you to stay, and Law can't help but be impressed by the performance.
He sits on a crate outside the Polar Tang, waiting.
When walked down the dock with that satisfied grin, Law calls out. "So, how long have you been hustling them?"
You snap in his direction, and your innocent facade cracks. You're smirking—the real you, sharp and dangerous and amused.
"About three hours," you laugh. "I'll admit, Law, I did need to get a few more drinks in your crew than I thought."
Law stands. "So you know who I am." His eyes narrow. "Either way, you fooled my crew. But not me."
You shrug, feigning boredom. "And?"
He gestures to your pockets. "Empty them."
You reach in slowly, pulling out grains of rice with exaggerated surprise and a gasp. Law smirks. He's been using his Shambles ability to switch everything for rice. He wanted to see how long you'd keep up the act.
But you don't look defeated. You look... amused.
"Ah, Law," you taunt, "If only that's what I was after."
You held up a Den Den Mushi that flashes in his face.
And then you're gone.
His eyes burn from the flash. By the time his vision clears, you've vanished like smoke.
"Shachi! Penguin!" he roars.
The two immediately pop their heads over the deck, looking terrified.
"You brought a damn Marine spy on the sub!"
The two eyes grew as they shrunk down in embarrassment.
Law summoned a room and the two fell to the dock on their asses. “Go fix it!” He demanded pointing towards the town where you were heading. They scrabbled to feet and stumbled into a run.
Fury entered Law’s eyes as he snapped around only to find you in an alley across the way, leaning against the wall like you don't have a care in the world. He pulls his Kikoku from its scabbard, the blade gleaming in the afternoon light.
You don't flinch.
"Is that what you think I am?" you ask, pushing off the wall. "I guess you're not too far off, though."
You turn to walk away, but Law shambles directly in front of you, blocking your path.
Instead of backing away, you step closer. Red grew to his cheeks as your hand brushes along his cheek, and you're so near he can smell the sea salt on your skin.
"You're very cute when you're threatened," you laugh, confusing him for just a moment before you dance around him and kick him square in the back.
Law staggers forward, cursing himself for the distraction. When he whirls around, you're already gone.
A whistle from above draws his attention to the roof of a nearby building where you wave at him with a grin.
Law's jaw clenches. He shambles onto the roof behind you.
You jump, balancing on the edge of the building without a care. He snarls at the teasing behavior.
"Who do you work for?" he demands.
"Aw, look at you finally asking the real questions," you laugh. Then you pull out your Den Den Mushi. "Wait, hold that look!"
The camera flash blinds him. His eyes burn with frustration.
"Oh, that's a keeper," your voice echoes around him. "You look like a wet cat."
The veins on his forehead throb with anger. "Scalpel!" he shouts, pointing in the direction of your voice.
"Op, you missed," you taunt as his vision clears. His eyes dance around the roof, unable to find you. "Thanks for the information, Trafalgar D. Water Law."
The name stops him cold.
His full name. His real name. How could you possibly—
His thoughts spiral and his vision goes red.
"Tack!"
Everything on the roof inside his Room begins to float. You yelp as you're pulled into the air, torn away from the perch you'd jumped to.
"Scalpel!"
Law points his sword at your chest, and your heart pops out—a blue cube hovering before him. You try to grab it, but you're held suspended in the air by his power. The heart floats into his palm.
He drops the Room, and you fall hard to the roof, gasping for breath.
"Where did you learn that name?" he growls, standing over you with your heart literally in his hand.
You glare up at him, defiant. "I won't tell."
Law squeezes slightly.
Your scream echoes across the rooftops, your body convulsing in pain.
"Where?!" he demands, his voice cold as ice.
"Flevance records!" you shout, and he releases the pressure. You collapse, breathing hard, looking up at him with pleading eyes. "I've been doing my research."
Law stares down at you, something dark flickering across his features. Before you can say anything else, his hand twitches and you fall unconscious.
He stands there, your heart in his grip, trying to process what just happened.
When you wake, you're restrained to a metal chair in the boiler room. Red emergency lights cast a sickly glow across the walls. Your chest aches—both from the fall and from the phantom pain of having your heart separated from your body.
You know exactly where you are. You've studied the Polar Tang's schematics.
A tall figure rises from the shadows, arms crossed. Law. And now that your eyes are adjusted, you can see the dangerous anger simmering just beneath the surface of his composure.
"You're awake," he states, his voice a low rumble that echoes off the metal.
Instead of fear, a playful glint sparks in your eyes. You simply roll your eyes and relax back in the chair, as if you're not literally at this man's mercy.
Law's jaw clenches at your nonchalance. "You're going to tell me everything you know," he says firmly, towering above you. "And who you plan on relaying that information to."
You throw back your head and laugh—genuinely amused despite your situation. When you finally catch your breath, you smirk up at him.
"This is cute, really," you say, your voice dripping with amusement. Then your expression shifts, becoming more serious but no less playful. "Alright, alright. I'll tell you. But only for a good price."
Law reaches into his pocket and withdraws a glowing object. Your heart. He dangles it in front of you, a cruel smile playing on his lips.
"I wonder how much value your heart holds," he taunts, tossing it up and catching it repeatedly. Each time his hand closes around it, you feel it—that strange sensation of vulnerability, of being completely and utterly in his control.
You flinch with each catch, but you don't look away from him.
"Fine," you snarl, the defiance cracking slightly in your voice.
Law stops his game of catch, apparently satisfied. He pulls a chair over and sits down, . "Let's start with an easy one," he says, "What is your name?"
"y/n" you answer curtly, testing the waters of this new dynamic.
"Who do you work for?"
You lean back in your chair, "Depends on the price. I could be working for anyone or no one at all. Most of the time it's the Marines, but sometimes other pirates hire my services."
"So you're a consultant," Law hums, His eyes narrow with intellectual interest—which is somehow worse than pure rage. "Who were you planning on selling my information to?"
You shrug, feigning boredom even as your heart—literal and metaphorical—races in his hand. "No one in particular yet. But you've been making quite a lot of noise lately. I figured someone would come around sooner or later. Might as well get ahead of the game."
His eyes narrow, “Where are you from?”
You smirk, “Dressrosa.” You sang watching him carefully as his eyes flickered in recognition. “I believe you heard of it? After all a close friend of your seems to be running it.”
Law’s eye twitched as his knuckles turned white as he dug his fingers into his hand. “I have no affiliation with that man.” he said.
You hummed tilting your head, “But you used to.”
He snarled at the thought. “What else do you think you know?”
You burst out laughing before your expression goes serious, a calculated move. "Everything," you declare.
Law's gaze narrows dangerously. "What is that supposed to mean?"
You meet his eyes with a smirk, a hint of challenge radiating from you. "Let's just assume I know every single thing about you, Trafalgar D. Water Law."
"You can't know everything," he states, disbelief evident in his tone. His pride is showing now—the belief that he's too careful, too smart, too controlled for someone like you to have mapped him out completely.
"Try me," you counter, your voice dropping to something more intimate. You lean forward as much as the restraints allow. "Ask me something. Anything."
Law studies you for a long moment, and you can see the internal calculation happening. He's trying to find the question that will prove you wrong, that will restore his sense of control.
"Where am I from?" he finally asks.
"Flevance," you reply without hesitation. "But if you want a deeper answer, you also lived at Spider Miles with the Donquixote Pirates for a while, and then Swallow Island." You cock your head, waiting for his next question like you're playing a game you've already won.
"Okay, smartass," he growls, his voice strained. "Who did I live with at Swa—"
"Some inventor named Wolf," you cut him off. "That one was way too easy. Let's talk about something harder to find. Something that actually matters." You pause deliberately, watching the shift in his expression. "Corazon."
The name strikes Law like a physical blow.
His eyes go wide, a flash of something raw and vulnerable crossing his features before he shuts it down. He stands abruptly, his hand twitching toward his sword.
"He was a Marine spy, right?" you continue, pressing into the wound you've found. Your voice is softer now, almost sympathetic, which somehow makes it worse. "But he was more than that to you."
Law looks like he's about to explode. His hands clench and unclench. Then he turns on his heel and storms out of the boiler room, the metal door slamming shut with a resounding bang.
You watch him go, and for the first time since this started, your smile fades slightly. You didn't want to push that button. That's not part of the plan.
But you did. Because you needed him to understand that you're not just some thief. You're someone who's done her homework. You're someone who knows his vulnerabilities, his weaknesses.
Hours pass. The only sound is the low hum of the machinery kept you company.
Then the door creaks open, and bright light floods the boiler room. A figure enters carrying a delicious aroma.
"I brought food," a polar bear mink which you learned to be named Bepo says kindly, revealing himself to be a large, lumbering polar bear. He holds a steaming bowl of soup, the smell amplifying your stomach's protest.
You offer a grateful smile as your stomach rumbles. "Thank you," you say, attempting to reach for the bowl. Your arms remain tethered to the chair. You looked back up at the bear with a glint, “Would you mind untieing me?”
Bepo approaches hesitantly. "I don't know, Captain just gave me permission to bring you the soup."
"Just one arm then, please," you whine, pouting your lips adorably. "So I can use it to eat. I'm so hungry."
Bepo is easily swayed by your act. He nods and unties your right hand. You waste no time grabbing the bowl and slurping down the soup. "Thank you, this was delicious" you sigh in relief, finally feeling full. Bepo watches in amusement as you devour the entire serving.
When he reaches to retie your arm, you pull it back.
"Wait, please let me stretch it a bit," you beg, using your puppy dog eyes—the ones that have gotten you out of more situations than you can count.
"Uh, I don't know. Captain said not to trust you," Bepo stutters, clearly conflicted.
"But I didn't do anything," your lip trembles. "I promise."
Sweat pours from the polar bear's forehead. "I guess you have been down here for a bit. And the captain is acting a little unreasonable."
You smile triumphantly. "You are so kind. What's your name?"
"Bepo."
"Bepo," you repeat warmly, placing your chin in your palm and looking at him with genuine interest. "You're a Mink, right? What is Zou like?"
Bepo's eyes light up. "I left Zou when I was young," he admits. "But it's a very peaceful town with the nicest people ever. I miss them."
"Why did you leave then?"
Bepo's smile fades as he looks down. "I'm looking for my brother," he confesses.
You lean forward with sincere sympathy. "Do you have any leads?"
He shakes his head sadly.
You frown in sympathy—and it's genuine. "I'm sorry, Bepo. I hope you find him." You pause, a calculating glint in your eyes. "You might not find the answer you want, but I may have some intel on Big Mom and her involvement with the Nox Pirates. They’re minks right?"
Bepo perks up immediately, his ears twitching. "The Nox Pirates…?"
Before you can elaborate further, a coughing fit seizes you. You double over, clutching your chest in pain—it's a good act because the disconnection from your heart actually does cause discomfort.
"What's wrong? What's happening?" Bepo exclaims, panic lacing his voice.
You gasp for breath. "I… I can't… breathe."
Concerned, Bepo quickly unties your other arm and helps you to your feet. "What do you need?"
"Air… I need air," you cough, desperation creeping into your voice.
Without hesitation, Bepo scoops you up and races out of the boiler room. A faint smirk plays on your lips before you return to your convincing coughs.
The worried bear sprints across the sub's deck, and the sea breeze finally hits you. You take a deep, lung-filling breath of the salty air, your coughing subsiding naturally.
Bepo gently lowers you to the deck, leaning you against the railing.
"Thank you, Bepo," you pant, a hint of genuine gratitude in your voice. "I guess I've been down there too long and needed fresh air."
Bepo, relieved, nods in understanding. "I know what that's like. The air in the sub can be so thick and hot." He rubs your back comfortably. "You were saying something about the Nox Pirates. That was the crew my brother was a part of."
Your eyes widen. "He was part of that crew…" You hesitate, a flicker of actual doubt crossing your face. "Oh no, Bepo, I don't know if I should be the one telling you."
Bepo's eyes plead with you. "Please, you're the only person who has any idea what happened to my brother."
You frown, wrestling with your conscience. "From what I understand," you begin cautiously, "the Nox Pirates were after Poneglyphs, and Big Mom caught them. Only one of the pirates left the island alive. That's all I know."
Tears well up in Bepo's eyes. "That doesn't mean he's dead! He could have gotten away!" You push off the railing and pull Bepo into a hug, surprising the giant bear. "I'm sorry. If I knew your brother was a part of that crew, I wouldn't have brought it up. I was just hoping it would be a start to finding leads."
"Yo, Bepo! What are you—Is that the prisoner!"
Shachi's booming voice echoes from around the corner. He storms over, shoving himself between you and Bepo defensively, his arm extended in front of the bear. "You're not supposed to be out here!" he barks, pointing a threatening finger at you.
"Sorry, Shachi," Bepo stammers. "I brought her out here. She needed fresh air."
Penguin waddled up, puffing out his chest. "Well, she needs to go back before the Captain sees her. We can't have her causing any more trouble."
You hold up your hands defensively. "Don't blame him. I couldn't breathe down there, and Bepo was just trying to help. If you want me to go back down, I will. I'm helpless against the three of you.” You speak in a higher, sweeter voice than you've used previously—calculated, strategic. “Especially out here, with no escapes, and under your eyes."
A thought flashes in both their eyes. They exchange a look.
"I got a new idea!" Shachi speaks up. "We keep her on the deck where there are fewer things for her to steal and we keep an eye on her."
Penguin smiles, clearly pleased with himself. "Exactly! She won't be able to trick us again, and we're too strong for her anyway."
As the three pirates bicker amongst themselves about the best way to watch you, you can't help but smirk.
Law storms back into the boiler room, already furious about his earlier loss of control. He expects to find you exactly where he left you, restrained to that chair.
Instead, he finds an empty chair and ropes on the floor.
Realization dawns on his face, and his jaw clenches in anger.
He storms across the deck, the crew scattering like frightened animals at the sight of their captain's fury. His gaze falls upon you, standing confidently in the center of the deck, captivating the crew's attention with a story.
"And that's not even his full name!" you're saying, your voice ringing with excitement. "The government was too scared to let anyone know his real name… Gol D. Roger!"
A collective gasp ripples through the crew.
"The World Government is scared of this tribe, and for good reason," you continue, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "The Will of D…"
"What is going on here?!" Law roars, silencing the chatter immediately. The crew scrambles to their feet, mumbling excuses before scurrying back inside the sub like rats abandoning a ship.
The only ones remaining are Shachi, Penguin, Bepo, and a smug you.
Law runs a hand through his hair, frustration etched across his face. "I thought you two would have learned your lesson by now," he grumbles, glaring at Shachi and Penguin. "And Bepo…" He pauses, taking a deep breath, "Actually, you're fine."
Bepo offers a sheepish smile while the two swordsmen shrink back under their Captain's scrutiny. “favoritism.” They mumbled glaring at the bear.
"We're keeping watch over her," Penguin said defensively.
Law's gaze flickers back to you, his anger simmering beneath the surface. But then something catches your attention—movement in the distance. A signal.
You saunter toward Law with your most disarming smile. "It's fine, Law," you purr, your voice dripping with mock sympathy. "I didn't tell them anything you wouldn't want them to know. And they were fantastic host."
You turn to the remaining crew, flashing a dazzling smile. "Thank you for your hospitality, gentlemen." You bow slightly, your voice taking on a theatrical tone. "This was a fascinating experience. I promise this won't be the last."
With a playful wink, you dart across the deck, leaving a trail of bewildered pirates in your wake. Shachi and Penguin run after you, but they're already too late.
You reach the edge of the ship and leap over the railing.
The three pirates rush to the edge, peering over in time to see a small rowboat carrying you and another woman. The boat steers quickly toward a larger ship in the distance, which immediately begins firing cannons at the submarine.
"Shit!" Law curses, ducking as a cannonball whizzes overhead.
He reaches into his pocket, and his fingers brush against a familiar, pulsing object. He pulls out your heart—still glowing softly in his palm. He'd kept it on him the entire time.
He hold it high and shouts across the distance, "I still have your heart! You're still my prisoner!"
You turn back, and even from this distance, Law can see your smile.
"Keep it!" you shout back, your voice carrying across the water with impressive clarity. "As a promise that we will meet again!"
Law squeezes the heart. He watches as you fall to your knees on the rowboat, gasping.
He lets go, freeing you.
"I can kill you any time, any anywhere!" he shouts, his voice raw with anger and something else he doesn't want to name.
You cough, blood staining your lips, but you're smiling. You lift your head to face him, and even wounded, even escaping, you look victorious.
"But you won't," you call back.
And Law realizes, with a sinking feeling that has nothing to do with the cannonballs, that you're right.
He stands on the deck of his submarine, your heart pulsing in his hand—warm, alive. It's a power play he doesn't fully understand yet. By leaving her heart with him, you've bound yourself to him in a way that goes beyond physical restraint.
He has your heart. But you have something far more dangerous.
You have his attention.
For now, Law stands with your heart in his palm, watching you the distance climbing onto your larger ship, and realizes that he's just been outwitted by someone who used nothing but charm, intelligence, and a deep understanding of his own pride against him.
Your name is Lust.
And you just fooled the Surgeon of Death.
A/N: Thank you for reading! if you enjoy post like this check out my Masterlist. and if you want to send me a request for my next post please send me a message! If you liked this and want to support me I have a tip jar on Ko-fi.
Let me know if you like to see a part 2 which I am already excited to write.
Summary: You are a woman from Dressrosa who has fooled the mightiest of men and made Nations crumble from within. Using your charms you trick Penguin and Shachi and sneak onto the polar tang looking for information on surgeon of death. Only Law is not so easily fooled, or so he thinks. Law is full of pride, his darkness lies inside and is as sharp as a knife. There's never a doubt inside his mind that he has you under his control when he takes you and your heart prisoner after catching you snooping, but his ego makes him blind to your true motives.
Trafalgar Law x f!reader
Word Count: 3,795
A/N: This technically a rewrite of slight of hand first two parts but with more flirtations and more lust vs pride themes. I wanted to return to this after listening to the song Lust by Marino, Alexandria because I felt it fit well. Should be clear this is PG13, Sorry that's all I ever write, with things typically cut off after a kiss.
Law watches from the deck of the Polar Tang as Shachi and Penguin stumble up the ramp, dragging someone between them with exaggerated fanfare. They're both thoroughly drunk—laughing, gesticulating wildly, introducing you as if your the greatest treasure they've ever found.
You play the part perfectly. Innocent smile. Wide eyes. The kind of woman who looks lost and delighted to have found company.
"And thissss is our first mate Law!" Shachi announces, tripping over his own words as he points at the dark-haired captain standing with crossed arms.
Law doesn't even acknowledge the hand Shachi tries to place on his shoulder. He just watches. Observes.
And he sees it immediately.
The glint in your eyes. The way your gaze darts to valuables as you're led through the corridors. The practiced ease with which you move through the space, cataloging, assessing, planning.
You're not here for the company.
A slight smirk plays at the corner of his mouth. This should be interesting.
Penguin leans close to Law, whispering urgently. "Captain, please just go along with it. We're trying to impress her."
Law rolls his eyes but doesn't protest. He trails behind as they show you around, staying just out of earshot. He watches your hand move with practiced precision—pocketing a golden figurine here, a expensive compass there. Each movement is smooth, confident.
When you finally leave the submarine, you're practically glowing with success. You wave goodbye to the boys who whine for you to stay, and Law can't help but be impressed by the performance.
He sits on a crate outside the Polar Tang, waiting.
When walked down the dock with that satisfied grin, Law calls out. "So, how long have you been hustling them?"
You snap in his direction, and your innocent facade cracks. You're smirking—the real you, sharp and dangerous and amused.
"About three hours," you laugh. "I'll admit, Law, I did need to get a few more drinks in your crew than I thought."
Law stands. "So you know who I am." His eyes narrow. "Either way, you fooled my crew. But not me."
You shrug, feigning boredom. "And?"
He gestures to your pockets. "Empty them."
You reach in slowly, pulling out grains of rice with exaggerated surprise and a gasp. Law smirks. He's been using his Shambles ability to switch everything for rice. He wanted to see how long you'd keep up the act.
But you don't look defeated. You look... amused.
"Ah, Law," you taunt, "If only that's what I was after."
You held up a Den Den Mushi that flashes in his face.
And then you're gone.
His eyes burn from the flash. By the time his vision clears, you've vanished like smoke.
"Shachi! Penguin!" he roars.
The two immediately pop their heads over the deck, looking terrified.
"You brought a damn Marine spy on the sub!"
The two eyes grew as they shrunk down in embarrassment.
Law summoned a room and the two fell to the dock on their asses. “Go fix it!” He demanded pointing towards the town where you were heading. They scrabbled to feet and stumbled into a run.
Fury entered Law’s eyes as he snapped around only to find you in an alley across the way, leaning against the wall like you don't have a care in the world. He pulls his Kikoku from its scabbard, the blade gleaming in the afternoon light.
You don't flinch.
"Is that what you think I am?" you ask, pushing off the wall. "I guess you're not too far off, though."
You turn to walk away, but Law shambles directly in front of you, blocking your path.
Instead of backing away, you step closer. Red grew to his cheeks as your hand brushes along his cheek, and you're so near he can smell the sea salt on your skin.
"You're very cute when you're threatened," you laugh, confusing him for just a moment before you dance around him and kick him square in the back.
Law staggers forward, cursing himself for the distraction. When he whirls around, you're already gone.
A whistle from above draws his attention to the roof of a nearby building where you wave at him with a grin.
Law's jaw clenches. He shambles onto the roof behind you.
You jump, balancing on the edge of the building without a care. He snarls at the teasing behavior.
"Who do you work for?" he demands.
"Aw, look at you finally asking the real questions," you laugh. Then you pull out your Den Den Mushi. "Wait, hold that look!"
The camera flash blinds him. His eyes burn with frustration.
"Oh, that's a keeper," your voice echoes around him. "You look like a wet cat."
The veins on his forehead throb with anger. "Scalpel!" he shouts, pointing in the direction of your voice.
"Op, you missed," you taunt as his vision clears. His eyes dance around the roof, unable to find you. "Thanks for the information, Trafalgar D. Water Law."
The name stops him cold.
His full name. His real name. How could you possibly—
His thoughts spiral and his vision goes red.
"Tack!"
Everything on the roof inside his Room begins to float. You yelp as you're pulled into the air, torn away from the perch you'd jumped to.
"Scalpel!"
Law points his sword at your chest, and your heart pops out—a blue cube hovering before him. You try to grab it, but you're held suspended in the air by his power. The heart floats into his palm.
He drops the Room, and you fall hard to the roof, gasping for breath.
"Where did you learn that name?" he growls, standing over you with your heart literally in his hand.
You glare up at him, defiant. "I won't tell."
Law squeezes slightly.
Your scream echoes across the rooftops, your body convulsing in pain.
"Where?!" he demands, his voice cold as ice.
"Flevance records!" you shout, and he releases the pressure. You collapse, breathing hard, looking up at him with pleading eyes. "I've been doing my research."
Law stares down at you, something dark flickering across his features. Before you can say anything else, his hand twitches and you fall unconscious.
He stands there, your heart in his grip, trying to process what just happened.
When you wake, you're restrained to a metal chair in the boiler room. Red emergency lights cast a sickly glow across the walls. Your chest aches—both from the fall and from the phantom pain of having your heart separated from your body.
You know exactly where you are. You've studied the Polar Tang's schematics.
A tall figure rises from the shadows, arms crossed. Law. And now that your eyes are adjusted, you can see the dangerous anger simmering just beneath the surface of his composure.
"You're awake," he states, his voice a low rumble that echoes off the metal.
Instead of fear, a playful glint sparks in your eyes. You simply roll your eyes and relax back in the chair, as if you're not literally at this man's mercy.
Law's jaw clenches at your nonchalance. "You're going to tell me everything you know," he says firmly, towering above you. "And who you plan on relaying that information to."
You throw back your head and laugh—genuinely amused despite your situation. When you finally catch your breath, you smirk up at him.
"This is cute, really," you say, your voice dripping with amusement. Then your expression shifts, becoming more serious but no less playful. "Alright, alright. I'll tell you. But only for a good price."
Law reaches into his pocket and withdraws a glowing object. Your heart. He dangles it in front of you, a cruel smile playing on his lips.
"I wonder how much value your heart holds," he taunts, tossing it up and catching it repeatedly. Each time his hand closes around it, you feel it—that strange sensation of vulnerability, of being completely and utterly in his control.
You flinch with each catch, but you don't look away from him.
"Fine," you snarl, the defiance cracking slightly in your voice.
Law stops his game of catch, apparently satisfied. He pulls a chair over and sits down, . "Let's start with an easy one," he says, "What is your name?"
"y/n" you answer curtly, testing the waters of this new dynamic.
"Who do you work for?"
You lean back in your chair, "Depends on the price. I could be working for anyone or no one at all. Most of the time it's the Marines, but sometimes other pirates hire my services."
"So you're a consultant," Law hums, His eyes narrow with intellectual interest—which is somehow worse than pure rage. "Who were you planning on selling my information to?"
You shrug, feigning boredom even as your heart—literal and metaphorical—races in his hand. "No one in particular yet. But you've been making quite a lot of noise lately. I figured someone would come around sooner or later. Might as well get ahead of the game."
His eyes narrow, “Where are you from?”
You smirk, “Dressrosa.” You sang watching him carefully as his eyes flickered in recognition. “I believe you heard of it? After all a close friend of your seems to be running it.”
Law’s eye twitched as his knuckles turned white as he dug his fingers into his hand. “I have no affiliation with that man.” he said.
You hummed tilting your head, “But you used to.”
He snarled at the thought. “What else do you think you know?”
You burst out laughing before your expression goes serious, a calculated move. "Everything," you declare.
Law's gaze narrows dangerously. "What is that supposed to mean?"
You meet his eyes with a smirk, a hint of challenge radiating from you. "Let's just assume I know every single thing about you, Trafalgar D. Water Law."
"You can't know everything," he states, disbelief evident in his tone. His pride is showing now—the belief that he's too careful, too smart, too controlled for someone like you to have mapped him out completely.
"Try me," you counter, your voice dropping to something more intimate. You lean forward as much as the restraints allow. "Ask me something. Anything."
Law studies you for a long moment, and you can see the internal calculation happening. He's trying to find the question that will prove you wrong, that will restore his sense of control.
"Where am I from?" he finally asks.
"Flevance," you reply without hesitation. "But if you want a deeper answer, you also lived at Spider Miles with the Donquixote Pirates for a while, and then Swallow Island." You cock your head, waiting for his next question like you're playing a game you've already won.
"Okay, smartass," he growls, his voice strained. "Who did I live with at Swa—"
"Some inventor named Wolf," you cut him off. "That one was way too easy. Let's talk about something harder to find. Something that actually matters." You pause deliberately, watching the shift in his expression. "Corazon."
The name strikes Law like a physical blow.
His eyes go wide, a flash of something raw and vulnerable crossing his features before he shuts it down. He stands abruptly, his hand twitching toward his sword.
"He was a Marine spy, right?" you continue, pressing into the wound you've found. Your voice is softer now, almost sympathetic, which somehow makes it worse. "But he was more than that to you."
Law looks like he's about to explode. His hands clench and unclench. Then he turns on his heel and storms out of the boiler room, the metal door slamming shut with a resounding bang.
You watch him go, and for the first time since this started, your smile fades slightly. You didn't want to push that button. That's not part of the plan.
But you did. Because you needed him to understand that you're not just some thief. You're someone who's done her homework. You're someone who knows his vulnerabilities, his weaknesses.
Hours pass. The only sound is the low hum of the machinery kept you company.
Then the door creaks open, and bright light floods the boiler room. A figure enters carrying a delicious aroma.
"I brought food," a polar bear mink which you learned to be named Bepo says kindly, revealing himself to be a large, lumbering polar bear. He holds a steaming bowl of soup, the smell amplifying your stomach's protest.
You offer a grateful smile as your stomach rumbles. "Thank you," you say, attempting to reach for the bowl. Your arms remain tethered to the chair. You looked back up at the bear with a glint, “Would you mind untieing me?”
Bepo approaches hesitantly. "I don't know, Captain just gave me permission to bring you the soup."
"Just one arm then, please," you whine, pouting your lips adorably. "So I can use it to eat. I'm so hungry."
Bepo is easily swayed by your act. He nods and unties your right hand. You waste no time grabbing the bowl and slurping down the soup. "Thank you, this was delicious" you sigh in relief, finally feeling full. Bepo watches in amusement as you devour the entire serving.
When he reaches to retie your arm, you pull it back.
"Wait, please let me stretch it a bit," you beg, using your puppy dog eyes—the ones that have gotten you out of more situations than you can count.
"Uh, I don't know. Captain said not to trust you," Bepo stutters, clearly conflicted.
"But I didn't do anything," your lip trembles. "I promise."
Sweat pours from the polar bear's forehead. "I guess you have been down here for a bit. And the captain is acting a little unreasonable."
You smile triumphantly. "You are so kind. What's your name?"
"Bepo."
"Bepo," you repeat warmly, placing your chin in your palm and looking at him with genuine interest. "You're a Mink, right? What is Zou like?"
Bepo's eyes light up. "I left Zou when I was young," he admits. "But it's a very peaceful town with the nicest people ever. I miss them."
"Why did you leave then?"
Bepo's smile fades as he looks down. "I'm looking for my brother," he confesses.
You lean forward with sincere sympathy. "Do you have any leads?"
He shakes his head sadly.
You frown in sympathy—and it's genuine. "I'm sorry, Bepo. I hope you find him." You pause, a calculating glint in your eyes. "You might not find the answer you want, but I may have some intel on Big Mom and her involvement with the Nox Pirates. They’re minks right?"
Bepo perks up immediately, his ears twitching. "The Nox Pirates…?"
Before you can elaborate further, a coughing fit seizes you. You double over, clutching your chest in pain—it's a good act because the disconnection from your heart actually does cause discomfort.
"What's wrong? What's happening?" Bepo exclaims, panic lacing his voice.
You gasp for breath. "I… I can't… breathe."
Concerned, Bepo quickly unties your other arm and helps you to your feet. "What do you need?"
"Air… I need air," you cough, desperation creeping into your voice.
Without hesitation, Bepo scoops you up and races out of the boiler room. A faint smirk plays on your lips before you return to your convincing coughs.
The worried bear sprints across the sub's deck, and the sea breeze finally hits you. You take a deep, lung-filling breath of the salty air, your coughing subsiding naturally.
Bepo gently lowers you to the deck, leaning you against the railing.
"Thank you, Bepo," you pant, a hint of genuine gratitude in your voice. "I guess I've been down there too long and needed fresh air."
Bepo, relieved, nods in understanding. "I know what that's like. The air in the sub can be so thick and hot." He rubs your back comfortably. "You were saying something about the Nox Pirates. That was the crew my brother was a part of."
Your eyes widen. "He was part of that crew…" You hesitate, a flicker of actual doubt crossing your face. "Oh no, Bepo, I don't know if I should be the one telling you."
Bepo's eyes plead with you. "Please, you're the only person who has any idea what happened to my brother."
You frown, wrestling with your conscience. "From what I understand," you begin cautiously, "the Nox Pirates were after Poneglyphs, and Big Mom caught them. Only one of the pirates left the island alive. That's all I know."
Tears well up in Bepo's eyes. "That doesn't mean he's dead! He could have gotten away!" You push off the railing and pull Bepo into a hug, surprising the giant bear. "I'm sorry. If I knew your brother was a part of that crew, I wouldn't have brought it up. I was just hoping it would be a start to finding leads."
"Yo, Bepo! What are you—Is that the prisoner!"
Shachi's booming voice echoes from around the corner. He storms over, shoving himself between you and Bepo defensively, his arm extended in front of the bear. "You're not supposed to be out here!" he barks, pointing a threatening finger at you.
"Sorry, Shachi," Bepo stammers. "I brought her out here. She needed fresh air."
Penguin waddled up, puffing out his chest. "Well, she needs to go back before the Captain sees her. We can't have her causing any more trouble."
You hold up your hands defensively. "Don't blame him. I couldn't breathe down there, and Bepo was just trying to help. If you want me to go back down, I will. I'm helpless against the three of you.” You speak in a higher, sweeter voice than you've used previously—calculated, strategic. “Especially out here, with no escapes, and under your eyes."
A thought flashes in both their eyes. They exchange a look.
"I got a new idea!" Shachi speaks up. "We keep her on the deck where there are fewer things for her to steal and we keep an eye on her."
Penguin smiles, clearly pleased with himself. "Exactly! She won't be able to trick us again, and we're too strong for her anyway."
As the three pirates bicker amongst themselves about the best way to watch you, you can't help but smirk.
Law storms back into the boiler room, already furious about his earlier loss of control. He expects to find you exactly where he left you, restrained to that chair.
Instead, he finds an empty chair and ropes on the floor.
Realization dawns on his face, and his jaw clenches in anger.
He storms across the deck, the crew scattering like frightened animals at the sight of their captain's fury. His gaze falls upon you, standing confidently in the center of the deck, captivating the crew's attention with a story.
"And that's not even his full name!" you're saying, your voice ringing with excitement. "The government was too scared to let anyone know his real name… Gol D. Roger!"
A collective gasp ripples through the crew.
"The World Government is scared of this tribe, and for good reason," you continue, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "The Will of D…"
"What is going on here?!" Law roars, silencing the chatter immediately. The crew scrambles to their feet, mumbling excuses before scurrying back inside the sub like rats abandoning a ship.
The only ones remaining are Shachi, Penguin, Bepo, and a smug you.
Law runs a hand through his hair, frustration etched across his face. "I thought you two would have learned your lesson by now," he grumbles, glaring at Shachi and Penguin. "And Bepo…" He pauses, taking a deep breath, "Actually, you're fine."
Bepo offers a sheepish smile while the two swordsmen shrink back under their Captain's scrutiny. “favoritism.” They mumbled glaring at the bear.
"We're keeping watch over her," Penguin said defensively.
Law's gaze flickers back to you, his anger simmering beneath the surface. But then something catches your attention—movement in the distance. A signal.
You saunter toward Law with your most disarming smile. "It's fine, Law," you purr, your voice dripping with mock sympathy. "I didn't tell them anything you wouldn't want them to know. And they were fantastic host."
You turn to the remaining crew, flashing a dazzling smile. "Thank you for your hospitality, gentlemen." You bow slightly, your voice taking on a theatrical tone. "This was a fascinating experience. I promise this won't be the last."
With a playful wink, you dart across the deck, leaving a trail of bewildered pirates in your wake. Shachi and Penguin run after you, but they're already too late.
You reach the edge of the ship and leap over the railing.
The three pirates rush to the edge, peering over in time to see a small rowboat carrying you and another woman. The boat steers quickly toward a larger ship in the distance, which immediately begins firing cannons at the submarine.
"Shit!" Law curses, ducking as a cannonball whizzes overhead.
He reaches into his pocket, and his fingers brush against a familiar, pulsing object. He pulls out your heart—still glowing softly in his palm. He'd kept it on him the entire time.
He hold it high and shouts across the distance, "I still have your heart! You're still my prisoner!"
You turn back, and even from this distance, Law can see your smile.
"Keep it!" you shout back, your voice carrying across the water with impressive clarity. "As a promise that we will meet again!"
Law squeezes the heart. He watches as you fall to your knees on the rowboat, gasping.
He lets go, freeing you.
"I can kill you any time, any anywhere!" he shouts, his voice raw with anger and something else he doesn't want to name.
You cough, blood staining your lips, but you're smiling. You lift your head to face him, and even wounded, even escaping, you look victorious.
"But you won't," you call back.
And Law realizes, with a sinking feeling that has nothing to do with the cannonballs, that you're right.
He stands on the deck of his submarine, your heart pulsing in his hand—warm, alive. It's a power play he doesn't fully understand yet. By leaving her heart with him, you've bound yourself to him in a way that goes beyond physical restraint.
He has your heart. But you have something far more dangerous.
You have his attention.
For now, Law stands with your heart in his palm, watching you the distance climbing onto your larger ship, and realizes that he's just been outwitted by someone who used nothing but charm, intelligence, and a deep understanding of his own pride against him.
Your name is Lust.
And you just fooled the Surgeon of Death.
A/N: Thank you for reading! if you enjoy post like this check out my Masterlist. and if you want to send me a request for my next post please send me a message! If you liked this and want to support me I have a tip jar on Ko-fi.
Let me know if you like to see a part 2 which I am already excited to write.
God Spelled Backwards is D-O-C-T-O-R (Trafalgar Law x Reader, Chapter XVII)
Synopsis: Dr. Trafalgar Law is the brilliant, cold, new electrophysiologist fresh out of residency with something to prove. He wasted no time in singling you out as you battle his unyielding demands and an overbooked schedule with non-existent back up. Your dynamic goes beyond professional tension, and in a hospital where boundaries are protocol, and protocol is gold, it’s an all out fight for power and control.
Word Count: 7.2k
Tags/Warnings: Minors DNI, CardiacElectrophysiologist!Law, EchoTech!Reader, AFABFEM!Reader, Modern Hospital AU, Language, Enemies to Lovers, Character Death, Victim-Blaming, Assault Investigation, Medical Emergency, Hospital Treatment, Institutional Medical Malpractice
Glossary for Nerds
Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIII Chapter IX Chapter X Chapter XI Chapter XII Chapter XIII Chapter XIV Chapter XV Chapter XVI Chapter XVII
You’d gathered the most damning evidence into a single box at Syrup and saved copies on an external drive. Then, that evening after you saved Saturn, you sent your scans to Law, who had just about the reaction you expected.
You heard him heave a deep sigh from the other side of the line, then pause. “This has to be some sort of joke, right?”
You could hear the agitation in his voice as he scrolled through the files, skimming the documents. Law muttered a few choice words under his breath as he processed the evidence presented to him. You couldn’t blame him for needing a moment. The files dated back years, with several professionals involved and hundreds, if not thousands, of patients seen. This wasn’t just a handful of misdiagnosed patients; this was a conspiracy.
“Well,” Law breathed, “if there’s any silver lining to this, it’s that Hiriluk was too much of an idiot to shred these. I suppose if you’re going to be a disgrace to the title of doctor, you might as well keep the evidence explicit.”
You could almost hear his unspoken thoughts through his voice. For his apt but harsh words, you knew there was more brewing just beneath the surface.
“I wanted to show it to you first,” you said. Law was silent. “And when we were in the meeting, I just… I just knew.”
“And after what happened today…” Law’s voice sounded a bit farther from the phone. You could already picture him sitting back on his pristine leather couch with his head in his hands. “This is a shit show. This is absolutely ridiculous. What sort of—”
You listened as he continued to mutter to himself. But Law was never the type to wallow, and his lamenting didn’t last long after a few pointed insults directed at providers who should have known better.
You heard Law pick up his phone again, and when he spoke, his voice was clearer and more determined. Steady. “So, we’re not going to Lucci with this,” he said firmly.
“I didn’t think we were,” you agreed.
“After this fuck ass investigation, I don’t trust him with this. I’m taking this to Kuma,” Law decided with barely contained rage. Each word carried a biting edge that he kept barely hidden behind his steady tone. “With your consent.”
You blinked. “You’re asking my permission to bring this to the Chief of Patient Safety?”
“I’d like you there if you’re willing,” he said, "if you’re okay with me taking this higher.”
Maybe you were asking a different question than what he was answering. But Law was completely clear. He was seeking your permission, your consent to move forward.
“To be honest,” you breathed, your small voice traveling through your quiet apartment, “handle whatever you want to. I think people are more likely to believe you anyway.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Law said quickly and sternly, “I want to share this with Kuma and Saturn. I trust Kuma enough to give this the weight it deserves, and I think Saturn could be an unlikely ally in all of this. He’s already been making good progress—good enough to tell me that he wants me on the review to start sorting through these LVT cases.”
The idea made you pause for a moment in consideration. It wasn’t orthodox, but it made sense.
“And who’s on echo?” you asked.
“You,” Law replied quickly—confidently, “Saturn’s petitioning for it himself. You’re the one who spotted this pattern, and I want everyone to know it.”
Hogback’s scowling face flashed through your mind. The feeling of your verbal reprimand lingered for a few seconds. Then, the heartache of Eustass being escorted out of the hospital by security hit like an avalanche.
“Is that a good idea?” you asked, your voice suddenly small.
Law paused for a moment.
“What are you afraid of?” he asked. The question lacked any accusation or judgment. No, he simply wanted to know what just flashed through your mind a moment ago.
“I suppose nothing more than what’s already happened,” you sighed, curling in on yourself and glancing off to the side.
“That’s more than enough to be afraid of.” His words were quick and logical, as they always were. They allowed you to exhale, as if you had finally found shelter during a storm. “If you want to let things play out as they are and keep your head down, I’ll respect that.”
“You wouldn’t want it that way,” you interrupted, speaking before you even realized what you were saying.
A beat passed.
“It doesn’t matter what I want,” Law said slowly and steadily.
You held onto those words for a moment. He was different like this—those rare times he put others ahead of his own ambitions, plans, and wants. No, those moments weren’t anomalies anymore. You could see it now; he’d always been this way.
“I think… that things can’t get worse?” You let out a breathy laugh. “Well, of course they can… Maybe that’s what I’m afraid of. That something bad will happen to me… To you…” You let out another breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, shaking your head. “Can I be honest?”
“Always.” Law didn’t hesitate a moment.
Even with permission, you paused. You gasped for air, then said, “I wish there was someone else who could take care of this. I’m so sick of this institution. Thinking about it makes me feel like I’m gonna die—”
“Consider it done,” Law cut in just as you were getting heated. The same cold calmness laced his voice just like it did in the lab, bringing your fiery anxiety to an even temperature. “Keep doing what you usually do in imaging. I’ll work on pulling someone for the review. I can find a way to use the evidence I have—”
“I didn’t say I wanted off the review,” you blurted, and Law went quiet on the other side of the line. You looked down. “All I said was that I’m scared.”
Law remained silent for a moment. And then…
“Why do you want to stay at the North?” he asked. It was a simple question. No judgment. No tease. “After everything that’s happened, you’re fighting so hard to stay. Why is that?”
You’d heard that question many times before from different people. And now, hearing it from Law, you couldn’t help but wonder for the umpteenth time if you were just recklessly stubborn. To others, the answer changed. The sugarcoating changed. But to Law…
“Because it’s mine,” you answered, surprising yourself with how quickly you responded. Law didn’t say a word, still giving you the floor. You stood, took a breath, and started to pace. “Because… I’ve been building this department since I was twenty-one. I know these patients better than some of the doctors do. I work with my friends every day. I…”
You found yourself standing in front of the corkboard hanging in your living room as you finally exhaled all the air from your lungs. Your eyes locked onto a single Polaroid pinned in the center. You didn’t remember who took it.
In the picture, you stood in one of the imaging rooms, holding a probe in one hand and the handle of your cart in the other. The background had changed over the years, but the room remained the same. Similarly, you had also changed.
You looked much younger. You wore a red t-shirt that read, “North Blue University Medical Center: Cardiology,” and a goofy grin. You truly looked like a kid back then. You’re sure you’ll look back at pictures of yourself now and think the same thing in the future.
“I’m afraid to leave. I don’t want to walk away from everything I’ve done,” you said, mesmerized by the picture. Maybe you were being too honest. “I’ve looked at other places before.”
Law blinked from the other side of the line. “You have?” he questioned. “When?”
“After… something that happened when I first got hired,” you admitted. “A few times since… Not too long ago, after Penguin told me he thought I should leave.” Another pause on the other end of the line. “It wasn’t really too serious,” you continued.
“But what happened?”
Your eyes drifted away from the corkboard as you kept pacing the room. “And then I would get a patient who reminds me why I do this,” you sighed as you stepped around the perimeter of your living area. “There are people whose images I’ve been working on since they’ve been at North. Not to sound too self-important.”
“But it is important. I know what the imaging department means to you,” Law cut in. “I thought you might be ready for a fight. I just… didn’t want to throw you into anything you weren’t prepared for.”
“If I can get on the board—on your research—I want to do it,” you snapped, a defiant definitiveness in your tone. But any confidence you could shield yourself with couldn’t get past Law.
“Are you sure?”
Unaccusing.
Law didn’t elaborate, even though he could have. He might have mentioned the assault investigation, which, although hushed up, was still ongoing in the background. He could have discussed the police investigation and the many ways it might conclude. Or the potential retaliation the North might stir up if they didn’t plan to let you go first.
There was too much that could go wrong—too many moving parts—and Law understood that. He knew you understood that, so he kept quiet.
Are you sure?
When you told him, “I’m sure,” you weren’t lying, but your reasoning didn’t come from blind stubbornness.
This—the confrontation of everything—had been coming for a long time. Law noticed Hiriluk’s sloppy work during his first week, and you had been taking notes on Hogback’s patients years earlier. The thought crossed your mind that perhaps luck played a role—that no matter who was hired for the EP position or any other technician at Main, they would have stumbled upon this mess too.
But as you sat there on the phone, talking about the biggest medical malpractice scandal you’ve ever heard of and worrying about retaliation, you knew better than ever that it couldn’t be anyone else.
It was like Penguin said; it had always been you and Law. It was the patients in harm’s way, and the very fact that it felt as though your entire journey had been leading up to this.
There was a feeling of achievement in the idea, but also a sense of finality—like reaching the top of a mountain and realizing you never learned how to climb down. Maybe you’d been at the summit the whole time. Maybe you've never dared to look down at your feet before.
“I want this,” you asserted, “I want to help—to make sure no one else gets hurt.”
You heard Law shift on the other side of the line. “Okay then, let’s do this,” he replied curtly.
Then, there was a brief pause. You heard Law breathe in before his words hitched, getting caught in his throat. Slowly, he said your name.
“Do you trust me?” he asked, and another static-filled silence followed his question.
“Yes.” The word slipped past your lips before you could even think. You didn’t need to consciously decide. Your body responded automatically, just like it always did with Law. Genuine. True.
You heard him inhale. “I’ve been working on a few things. I have my own documents. And I have some things involving you, too.”
***
The repercussions came quickly, even before you and Law could approach anyone with the written evidence you found at Syrup. Hogback was immediately taken off his own schedule, much to his own frustration and that of a few select stakeholders who cared more about the lost revenue (or so you heard through the grapevine, which didn’t surprise anyone). According to Cindry, Hogback was limited to only seeing follow-up patients and the occasional post-op. All others were instantly removed from his schedule, along with any patient tagged “nonspecific LVT,” which was most of them.
Saturn strongly insisted that Law be the lead on that review and wouldn’t accept anything less than the duo who saved his life. That, in itself, didn’t end the investigation. Instead, third parties had even more questions about what happened, especially since Law was going straight for the jugular and had reported both Lucci and Kalifa for trying to obstruct aid. You weren’t even certain how you could go about reporting the head of HR, but you were sure it wasn’t pretty.
But a few things were undeniable: without you and Law, Saturn, the head of the Cardiology Department, wouldn’t still be alive; there have been three separate cases of misdiagnosis under Hogback; and the North was determined to play a game of reputation management and damage control.
And so, attention shifted to a new victim, at least for the moment: Hogback. While things wouldn’t return to how they used to be, you were finally temporarily transferred back to Main, mainly for easier access to meetings and better visibility. Franky continued working with you, and any patients Kaya sent for imaging were scheduled for tech visits at the main hospital.
While people far more important than you scrambled to come up with a solid plan to handle this scandal before it went public, you were back to the grind with a few restrictions. You and Law were not allowed to be alone together. No closed doors to his office. No late-night consultations, just the two of you. Any conversations you had had to be in the conference room or the pod. You were supposed to avoid speaking in the imaging office, though you assumed Franky was there as a babysitter, just in case.
You couldn’t say you were comfortable. The surprised looks on people’s faces as you watched them realize, in real time, that you weren’t fired because of an ongoing workplace affair, took some getting used to after your quiet sabbatical in Syrup. You noted each double-take, and this time, you could almost feel the rumor mill churning in your bones.
It had weight, but not as much as you expected. Unlike the suffocating sobriety you felt when Niji was speaking to you, the chatter didn’t feel as personal — like people were talking on the other side of a fence as you passed, petty and fleeting.
What should have been a victory also felt dull, even as you entered the conference room. To your surprise, Kuma was already there, about fifteen minutes early. You whispered a polite greeting before sliding into the chair across from him, which was meant for the Risk Management Officer, Sengoku.
You set your oversized box on the table. It was still labeled, “Dr. Hiriluk Archive #7 - ECHOES AND TECH SHEETS.”
You awkwardly caught Kuma’s eye from the corner of yours, offering a somewhat flustered half-smile as he stared at you kindly and attentively.
“Sorry, am I late?” you asked, checking the time.
Kuma shook his head. “No,” he said, watching you grab your laptop and click around for your notes, “I tend to arrive early to get settled; don’t rush on my behalf.”
You blinked, realizing suddenly that Sengoku and Law weren’t even there yet. You glanced at the time on the corner of your computer. No wonder they weren’t here. You were surprised you had shown up so unreasonably early. Maybe your nerves were getting to you, but what was certainly not helping was now being stuck with Patient Safety. Though that wasn’t to say that Kuma himself was what made you feel—
“Nervous?” The question didn’t sound like sarcasm; it felt more like a patient teacher on the first day of school.
You looked up at the question, finally making eye contact with him for the first time since you entered the room. Kuma was a large man: broad, tall, and Samoan. But despite his size, which might have made him commanding, there was nothing intimidating about him. He had a kind face and a comforting presence, so serene that you could have easily forgotten he was sitting across from you.
“It’s okay if you are. But you don’t have to be,” Kuma continued, his voice soft and sincere. “I can’t say there’s ever been anyone who liked meeting with us.”
His gentle tone slightly eased the tension in your shoulders, but not enough to keep your eyes off the clock. Your lips curled into a closed-mouth smile.
“You woulda thought patient safety would be more popular,” you joked halfheartedly, a hint of life returning to your demeanor.
“I know,” Kuma played along, leaning forward with a palm against the table, "and once you get Risk Management involved, it’s a wonder people can stay away.”
And when he winked, it didn’t convey anything resembling flirtation, but rather looked like any father who just told a dull joke.
But, as if on cue, you heard a pair of voices from down the hall — one definitely Law’s, and he was talking quickly. Just like that, like a shot, Law bounded around the corner with Sengoku. Sengoku practically had a hand on Law’s shoulder, grinning from ear to ear and still coming down from a laugh. And when they entered the conference room, they did so like old friends.
They were a bomb of energy in an otherwise calm atmosphere, one that swept the room with a shockwave that could’ve blasted you into next week. Law shook Kuma’s hand before sitting next to you, with a subtly victorious expression on his face, while Sengoku couldn’t have looked more ecstatic. Sengoku greeted you by name, reaching over the table to shake your hand. You looked back at Kuma, and he met your gaze with the same questioning expression. The two of you shrugged and exchanged a handshake while Law and Sengoku settled in.
You’d met Sengoku a few times before. While you couldn’t remember his exact title, he’d been quite high up in the administration before taking the unlikely role as a risk management officer. You figured he probably followed in Crocus’s footsteps, trying to retire before ending up back at the North. While you’d like to think you’d never do such a thing, you didn’t need much honesty to realize how badly you were lying to yourself.
“Good to see you both,” Sengoku said, his voice all too chipper considering the nature of your meeting.
You looked at Law for any sign of how he might have buttered up someone before arriving, but he didn’t even glance your way. His satisfied smirk barely cracked the surface of his exterior.
“Thank you for meeting with us,” Law said, already placing physical files and his laptop on the table. “We have a lot to discuss.”
That would be an understatement. Law started by describing the misdiagnosed patients from Hiriluk, the patient you recently saw at Syrup, and what he could find out about Dr. Jaygarcia. Then, you added to his story, opening your box to show the worksheets, the clear downplaying of diagnoses and symptoms, and the patient who died. Law laid out an undeniable pattern, and you served as a witness to how long this had been happening.
Kuma hardly had any questions, and Sengoku quietly took notes, writing down names and dates. The evidence was as clear as it was damning.
Sengoku slid two documents toward himself across the table, turning them so he could read them. You watched him study the pages before picking them up. He held them up to his face, his eyes peering over his readers.
“You’re telling me this patient died after being cleared here,” Sengoku said, finally lowering the document.
You nodded solemnly. “Yes,” you answered, “You can even see the notes I left, which were later disregarded. So we did catch the issue, but… it was ignored, and the patient passed not long after.”
“I also have reason to suspect that this isn’t the first time something like this has happened,” Law added, reaching into his bag to produce a large stack of files. They were bound together with a series of rubber bands.
Law told you about these when you were on the phone. The Vinsmoke Metropolitan Academic Hospital (VMAH) was founded by Dr. Judge Vinsmoke around the same time Albert Vegapunk was gaining popularity. From what you were told, it was a small hospital that poured far too much funding into research. It wasn’t long before VMAH was dissolved and absorbed into NBUMC, which, ironically, kept its “Medical Center” title despite becoming the medical titan it is today.
What happened to VMAH wasn’t too different from what happened to a few other new practices that aimed too high. It also explains why the North had a satellite office in Germa Village, where VMAH was first established. From what you knew, Judge retired with a pretty generous amount of money, and you hadn’t heard of him working on anything since.
VMAH was a brief experiment, one that Law had to remind you of when he first told you he gained access to the records. It made you wonder how much digging Law had to do to even discover that Hogback had worked in the diagnostic sector (V-MADS).
Law presented a few internal audits as corroborating evidence, but as you examined his collection, you suspected that what he had didn’t even scratch the surface. Just as with the documents before, Kuma and Sengoku studied them carefully, made a few notes, and set them aside.
You didn’t receive a satisfying conclusion, although you weren’t expecting one. Sengoku took the documents to be secured in a locked vault, like evidence in some sort of detective movie. Kuma gave you a few notices, the most important of which was to not discuss the review. The process was as clinical as you expected, but lacked the biting malice that you felt after your meeting with Lucci.
Then, it was over, and you went your separate ways. You stood at the entrance of the conference room, watching as Kuma and Sengoku departed. A few people passed by, no doubt on their way to put out fires across the floor.
“You look nervous,” Law’s voice came from behind you. You turned around. Law had sat back down in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest and his ankle resting over his opposite knee. “I thought it went well.”
You glanced back out into the hall. “Are we allowed to—”
“Conference room is one of the only places I’m allowed to talk to you, remember?” Law reminded you, eyeing the floor-to-ceiling glass windows that lined both sides of the conference room. “Like a zoo animal.”
“I liked the fish bowl metaphor you used the other day,” you hummed, absentmindedly toying with the open door. “Not used to your sass being taken out on someone else.”
Law let out a laugh, glancing at the ceiling. “You’re one to talk about sass.”
Despite the numerous windows, your instructions clearly stated that the door must remain open at all times. You weren’t entirely sure what that meant for patient confidentiality when discussing cases, but you had more than enough reason to question the institution’s care for patients in the first place.
“So what was all that with Sengoku?” You moved to sit on the other side of the table, right across from Law, where Sengoku had been sitting before.
“He knew Cora from the VA,” Law said, “I met him a few times when I was younger, when he was in operations management.”
“Oh, so you were buttering him up.” Your brows raised.
Law shook his head, but that arrogant smirk on his face didn’t fade. “A little shop talk.”
You nodded, glancing up at the ceiling. “So, buttering up,” you muttered, looking at the ceiling. “What kind of sneaky plot are you brewing this time?”
Law looked at you for a moment, thoughtful. But his confident smirk had faded, replaced by a serious, somber darkness on his face. “Well, I told you what I had the most confidence in over the phone.”
“And you’ve probably come up with at least five other schemes in the meantime," you muttered.
“Schemes,” Law scoffed. “What do you take me for?” He leaned back in his chair, his hands folded in his lap. “We’re in the same boat.”
“You’re two steps ahead, that’s what you are.”
“Charmed that you think so highly of me—”
You threw him a sharp glare.
Law frowned in turn. “I don’t want to get your hopes up.” He looked away. “I don’t like presenting something that’s half-baked,” he mumbled.
“Well, it’s a good thing this isn’t a research case,” you sighed, sitting upright in your chair, your arms crossed on the table. “We’re doing this together, right?” You spoke in a calm, gentle tone so no one in the hallway could overhear.
Law met your unwavering gaze for a moment, matching your intensity with his stare. He didn’t hesitate.
“We are.” He nodded. “Which is why I have a plan to make sure you’re on this review and back on my research case.”
You couldn’t help the scoff that escaped your throat, a noise somewhere between a laugh and a huff. “I mean, like I said before, even if Saturn floats the review—”
“I would actually consider that locked down,” Law cut in after what seemed to be a moment of consideration. “Congratulations,” he said with a curt, but cheeky nod.
You looked at him with half-lidded, pouty eyes. “Even if Saturn floats the review,” you repeated, “There’s no way Lucci won’t shut that down as soon as he can, and even if I’m allowed on the review, getting back on your research is too much of a stretch.”
Law’s gaze flickered upward over your head before he slowly stood from his chair. A slight twitch appeared at the corners of his mouth. He looked back at you for a moment.
“You want to be in on something?” he grinned, slapping his hand on the table. A mischievous glint lit up his eye as he quickly moved toward the open door. “I’ve got something for ya.”
Law stuck his head into the hallway.
“Hey!” he called, “Vinsmoke!”
Your heart twinged for a moment, and your mind immediately went to the darkest place before recalling that, out of the three you’d met, there was one good Vinsmoke. When Sanji appeared in the window next to the open glass door, you couldn’t help but look away, kicking yourself for not considering him in the first place. You took a deep breath, then exhaled.
Sanji glanced from you to Law, whose head was turned toward you in a moment of distraction. Sanji gave him a pointed once-over, hands in his pockets, as he moved toward the doorway.
“Yes?” Sanji spoke with a restrained tongue. Law suspected that if you weren’t there, Sanji wouldn’t have been nearly as cordial.
“Have a minute?” Law asked, stepping to the side to gesture Sanji in.
Sanji glanced between him and you before cautiously entering the conference room. Law closed the door behind him.
The open door policy only applied when you and Law were alone, which you thought was extremely silly at best and absentminded at worst. Because if you truly were sleeping with half the hospital, as the rumors claimed, what was stopping you from inviting numerous people into a small space with you?
Sanji preferred to stand, positioning himself next to the head of the table while Law hovered a few steps behind the chair he had just been sitting in. As they stood there, trying to communicate with their eyes, you couldn’t help but wonder—what is it with men and not wanting to sit down?
“I haven’t heard from you in a while,” Law said pointedly.
Sanji’s eyes narrowed. “We’re really doing this here?”
“Didn’t realize I had to flag you down to get some updates,” Law frowned.
“Do I need to ask myself about what we’re talking about, or would the doctors in the room like to fill me in?” The corner of your mouth twitched sheepishly. It felt awkward dishing it out in front of Sanji. “Kidding,” you admitted, catching Law’s eye. “Mostly.”
You assumed that Sanji was trying to put on a good face and struggling to do so. You could see the conflict flicker across his face, and when he spoke, he did so with forced friendliness. “Did you know I was involved?” he asked as sweetly as he could manage.
“The outline I got was rough, but I knew you were at least the one pulling files from VMADS,” you said.
Sanji let his head hang for a brief moment as he pulled out the chair to sit in front of you. “So he told you nothing.”
“You’re just looking for a nitpick, aren't you?” Law snapped, tugging one of the chairs to the head of the table to sit somewhat between you and Sanji.
Sanji sneered, “That’s rich coming from you.”
He turned toward you with another calculated attempt at composure, his face now somewhat sobered. Sanji hesitated a moment before speaking. The usual glint in his eye seemed faded, dimmed by the thoughts crossing his mind. When he opened his mouth, you could hear the sharp breath he took. He sat forward, the weight of his unspoken words already filling the air.
“You asked to be filled in,” Sanji said, and you couldn’t help but think he was using his doctor voice to ease some of the tension that was starting to fill the air. “Yes, I’ve been the one doing the VMADS pulls and… all of that.”
You didn’t blink. “And the footage.”
Your words momentarily stole the breath from Sanji’s lungs. For a brief moment, his expression shifted into something complicated. Sadness first appeared in his eyes before it seeped down to his lips. His mouth twitched, as if even his body knew that saying he was sorry wouldn’t change anything.
“And the footage,” he repeated, his voice apologetic and defeated. “Not because I think a video solves anything, but… it doesn’t hurt.”
“No, anything helps.” You shook your head. “Any evidence at all. If I have to hear the phrase ‘he said, she said’ one more time…”
You weren’t even sure how your sentence would end. Part of you, for some reason, thought you’d be cut off before having to finish it. But as you looked back, you glanced up—Law and Sanji’s faces were both calm, a stark contrast to your strained, crooked smile.
They stared at you, not quite expectantly but more like they were sitting at attention. Their eyes held something you couldn’t recognize, something similar to the hesitation of not knowing that freezes your body when someone breaks down in front of you.
You didn’t realize you were trying to make a joke until it didn’t land.
You glanced down at the table. “I’m guessing that the files were a little easier to find?”
“Easier to access,” Sanji corrected you gently. “The VMADS—well, VMAH—database wasn’t the most reliable to start with. It’s only searchable if you know what to look for, and between the outdated electronic systems and the physical files, it’s been taking more time than I’d like.”
Sanji pursed his lips. Despite all the criticism he gave Law, Sanji was hesitant to delve into the topic further. It almost felt like self-praise to launch into a long monologue about the timelines he checked, the sudden access barriers he had to bypass, and the hours he spent going through files.
“But I’m working on it,” Sanji tried to revive his point, which he wasn’t sure had even gotten through, “I can’t guarantee what I’m able to get, but I’m working on it. I’m just… taking the long way around.”
Your eyes drifted from the table to Sanji’s carefully clasped hands. His skin softly pressed beneath his fingertips, which rested against the backs of his hands.
“The long way around,” you repeated softly, and the urge to apologize rose to Sanji’s lips once again. “You… You really don’t have to do this.” Only then did you glance up at his face.
Sanji tilted his head to the side, and the corners of his lips twitched upward for the first time since he sat down. The ghost of his usual, charming smile appeared before falling back into the resignation that took over him.
“Yes, I do,” he said. He held your eyes for a moment. Sanji forced the corners of his lips up again—a gesture of reassurance.
You frowned. “Because of me.”
The flicker of his jaw almost gave him away. “Because of them.” Sanji nodded firmly. “Because this is who they’ve always been. Because this is what the Vinsmoke family has permitted.”
“But they’re your family.”
You suspected that Sanji held those words with the same weight you did. His face hardened a bit more.
“Vinsmokes handle Vinsmokes,” Sanji said, leaning forward to rest his cheek in his palm, supported by the elbow against the table. “If anything—” His brows bobbed in thought. —“It almost doesn’t have anything to do with you.”
The words should have been cold. They could have come from anyone else. But Sanji, even in the direst of situations, couldn’t completely hide that charming gleam in his blue eyes. He flashed a smile, revealing his teeth. Then, you laughed.
It snuck up on you the way laughter sometimes did when sitting at the back of a classroom with your friends, trying—and failing—to hide how you weren’t paying attention to the more serious things at hand.
“You’re… not even subtle about it.” You shook your head.
Sanji’s gaze shifted, sharpening into something more serious as he spoke your name. You met his stare. Because after the laughter passed, Sanji said, “I’m not doing this because you’re you. I’m doing it because they’re them.” He quickly glanced toward the hallway just outside the glass windows. “It could have been any woman in that stairwell, and I’d be doing the same, meaning that you’re not responsible for my choices.”
You looked away, still not feeling quite comforted.
“Sure,” you agreed, leaving room for debate. “I know you don’t like them, but—”
You never thought you’d see Sanji scowl before. You didn’t think he could show any expression besides a smile or a pleasant glimmer. And when he said, “I hate them,” even his voice didn’t sound like him. “My family has only ever been good at two things: writing checks and making sure the right people stay comfortable.”
But just as quickly as his bitterness arrived, it faded.
“At least let me have an outlet for my talents,” he whispered with a wink.
And, well, you didn’t have an argument for that. In fact, you didn’t think you could ever argue with Sanji. Maybe that was one of the reasons those few dates never worked out.
Law had hardly shifted in his seat at the head of the table between you. His arms were coiled over his chest. “Can we get back to what you can retrieve for us?” he cut in.
You saw Sanji’s eyes narrow, as if he’d forgotten Law was there. Sanji turned to face him.
“I’ve gotten you enough to start—”
“Which isn’t all of it,” Law muttered. You kicked his shin under the table without a second thought. Law’s gaze flickered to you. “It isn’t.”
“We don’t need everything,” you began, but the confident edge in your voice quickly softened as you shifted your focus back to Sanji. He looked thoughtful, with words hanging on his lips. “Right?”
“Well, VMAH was so short-lived… It makes sense that the full set of files would give you the best context and leverage,” Sanji considered reluctantly.
You frowned. “That’s still years of documents, isn’t it? In a database that’s designed so no one can find anything?”
“I’m sure Vinsmoke can handle exerting himself a bit,” Law hummed.
You shot him a fierce glare.
“Well, if that’s that,” Sanji cut in with a sigh, “I’ll do what I can, when I can. But for now, I have patients to see.”
Sanji’s mood brightened as he turned to you. “Always a pleasure to see you. You’re welcome to stop by anytime.” He stood casually, pushing his chair in. Sanji didn’t acknowledge Law as he headed for the door.
“Thank you, Sanji,” you said, with the corners of your lips slightly lifted.
He smiled back at you from the open doorway. “Welcome back to Main.” He nodded before stepping back into the hallway, leaving the door open.
You looked at Law. “You don’t have to be so mean to him.”
He didn’t answer immediately as he stood from his chair. You turned in yours. Law checked his watch.
“Vinsmoke’s a big boy. I’m sure I don’t have to spare his feelings,” Law muttered absentmindedly. His golden irises flickered to meet yours. “I’ve got a meeting. Are we alright to touch base later?”
You couldn’t help the scoff that escaped your throat. Between his piercing eyes and the designer watch he still had raised, you realized you hadn’t seen Trafalgar Law the doctor in quite some time. Having been exiled to Syrup, you hadn’t had the chance.
“You want to circle back?” You leaned back in your seat, eyebrows slightly raised.
Law shook his head. “Sure,” he said. The slight, reluctant frown on his face probably could only be accurately measured with calipers. “We’ll circle back sooner rather than later.”
***
You started seeing more patients.
The first one was normal. The second was more nervous than they wanted to show. The third had complimented you on the shorter-than-usual wait time. You held back the urge to reply, “Well, that’s what happens when there’s more than just me here.”
It took some adjustment, but being back at your home base helped you relax somewhat despite the workload. The probes felt more natural in your hands. The gel warmer was reliable. You built up years of muscle memory and fell into it by the time you were halfway through your second patient of the morning.
Between you and Franky, there were never more than three patients waiting at a time, and given the pace you were moving, you usually kept that number to one or two. Franky watched from his desk as you shuffled papers, swapped documents, and arranged pages into rough piles before moving on to the next patient. He pivoted, facing you even as you moved around the room. Then, he spoke your name.
You nearly do a double-take, glancing over your shoulder as you hum in acknowledgment.
“You… seem to be back in the groove of things,” Franky said cautiously.
You turned back to the computer, clicked a few things on the screen, then tapped your badge.
“Well, it is nice to have actual patients again,” you mused, though your words couldn’t exactly have been mistaken as anything resembling cheerful. You turned to face Franky. An awkward silence filled the room. “Syrup was too quiet.”
It felt like something had shifted in the air, and not just in the room, but throughout Main. The feeling of foreignness welled inside your chest, tucking itself in a discrete corner of your ribcage. You couldn’t remember the last time you had a vacation, but you imagined this was how returning would feel—slow, somewhat off your game, and just slightly out of place.
Franky had reorganized some of the supply closets. The outdated—though not as outdated as Syrup’s—equipment took a few moments of mental effort to readjust to. The keyboard was larger, and the mouse was more sensitive. But none of those things were what made you so unsettled.
You were waiting, and working with your hands only helped pass the time.
And so, you waited, staying busy and helping patients through the afternoon. You figured it would be at least until the end of the week before you heard anything about the board, let alone Law’s research. Being added to the review board seemed just as unlikely as it seemed probable, and you thought Law floating the idea of you rejoining his research was his way of taking a mile when given an inch.
Considering how long the investigation has been ongoing without any update, you probably couldn’t expect a change anytime soon. Who knows how long it’ll be with you at Main. Maybe you’ll be sent back to Syrup…
Your phone screen lit up, winking at you from your desk. You backed up, craning your neck to catch the subject line of an email.
“Effective Immediately: IRB Amendment Approved for Review Board—Add Personnel…” followed by your name and employee ID number.
Whatever you were holding found a new home on your desk as you grabbed your phone and entered your passcode to read the full message.
“After careful consideration, the Institutional Review Board has reviewed and APPROVED Amendment #2 to Protocol #74910, effective immediately,” the message stated. “This amendment authorizes the addition of… to the study team in the role of Imaging Adjudicator/Data Annotation (Role Limited). Approved scope of work and conditions are listed as follows…”
You couldn’t help the way your heart pounded in your chest. A sharp palpation pierced through you, flipping through a flurry of emotions as if your ribs were a Rolodex. Beats of anxiety that stole your breath fluttered by, then picked up into rapid pounding.
You didn’t say anything to Franky on your way out the door. No, you were saving your words, holding them in your mouth the entire way across the floor. Your tunnel vision caused you to nearly bump into a few people along your path. You spoke your apologies a bit too loudly and moved a bit too quickly, leading yourself all the way to Law’s hall.
He was just stepping out of a room when you appeared at the far end of the hall. The way you caught his gaze was by chance, and Law's double-take made his eyes sparkle, even from the distance you were at.
You didn’t say anything as you stood there, phone still in your hand with the email glowing brightly. You could feel the goofy grin on your face and the giddiness tingling through your skin. The corners of Law’s lips barely moved, offering you a subtle smile of acknowledgment, his head bowing slightly as he ducked into another exam room.
Your insides blazed as your mind raced, zipping through preparation plans and schedule coordination. You’d need to bulk up your inventory to handle the number of patients you’d be seeing. You’d need to revisit Law’s research patient to refresh your memory of the case. The conference was in less than a month, and the gears in your brain began to churn, like this email was the exact spark you needed to wake back up.
There were so many things to think about that you didn’t even think about what Law must’ve said to pull this off. But that didn’t matter, not when there were twenty-eight days left until the conference.
Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.
Glossary for Nerds
Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIII Chapter IX Chapter X Chapter XI Chapter XII Chapter XIII Chapter XIV Chapter XV Chapter XVI Chapter XVII
In the rhythm of the "wack" meme: No age in bio, no tag! Minor, no tag (MINORS DNI ANYWAY)! No series interaction, no tag
Notes: I’ve been lagging hard. While I’ve had the ending plotted out for quite a while, it’s been difficult to get through scenes. Would saying “godspeed” be too on the nose?
Summary: After the events of Dressrosa you can no longer pretend your feelings for Law do not exist. And seeing your two worlds collide you realize how hard the decision to stay with the Straw Hats or with the Heart Pirates really is.
Trafalgar Law x gn!reader
Word count: 4,745
Part 1 | Part 2 | Deleted Scenes
A/N: I know I promised Angst for this part but I ended up with fluff but this is mostly due to a lot of cuts. When I say I had to kill a lot of darlings for this Part I mean it. I initially wrote out closer to 15k words dividing this into to two parts. But when rereading and rewriting it, it just felt to much. I love fight scenes since I have one of those highly detailed imaginations and choreographing fights have turned into my specialty. But It was just to much and shifted more into OC territory. However, I can never fully kill off my darlings so if you would like to read those deleted scenes I have posted them, so you can see what had fully happened in Dressrosa instead of just bits and pieces and is full of Anst.
ANYWAYS heres the final part! Thank you to everyone who has liked and commented so far, it has meant a lot!
You took a step on the squishy surface of Zou while your eyes scanned the destruction. The buildings were crumbling, scratches gouged deep into the structures, trampled stalls of what had once been a lively country.
Your heart clenched. Both of your crews had been here.
Then your breath hitched as your eyes landed on a puddle of blood. Your eyes shook as the red filled your vision the same way it did on Dressrosa nearly a week ago—When you saw Law get shot.
Your vision swirled into the memory.
In front of the Colosseum in Dressrosa, on the ground, covered in blood.
Was Law.
You couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't do anything but stare at his broken form. The world tilted sideways.
Then a shot rang out.
Doflamingo's gun smoked as the bullet connected with Law's chest. His body flew backward, skidding across the pavement, leaving a trail of blood behind him.
Your heart stopped.
An incomprehensible scream tore itself from your throat—raw, primal, the kind of sound that came from something desperate and breaking. Your body moved before your brain caught up.
Zoro's arms wrapped around you, pinning you back with surprising strength, his hand covering your mouth to muffle your screams. You fought him with every ounce of strength, desperate to reach Law, desperate to do something.
Two more shots fired.
Everything froze. Your vision tunneled until there was nothing but red and Law—the captain you had somehow fallen in love with without even realizing it.
You didn't hear anything after that. You only heard the blood pounding in your ears.
When Zoro's grip loosened slightly, you planted your foot and kicked backward with a Haki-covered heel that connected directly with his stomach.
Zoro grunted. His arms fell away.
You were already running.
You slid across the ground and covered Law's body with your own, shielding him. Your hands desperately searched his neck for a pulse, your medical training from two years on his ship kicking in.
There.
His heartbeat was slow, dangerously slow, but it was there. It was steady. Steady meant no immediate decline. Steady meant if you could get him proper medical attention, he could survive this.
Your entire body collapsed against him, your arms clinging desperately, your face pressed against his chest, listening to that precious heartbeat.
Doflamingo stood over you both with a smirk. When he moved toward you with his foot raised, your Haki covered you instinctively. His kick bounced back in shock.
You didn't budge. Your glare locked with his—unwavering, full of determination.
He laughed and reached down to grab you. You tightened your hold on Law impossibly. Nothing in this world would make you let go.
The Warlord snarled in annoyance at your resistance. He moved toward your neck instead. You barely managed to cover your throat in Haki before his grip clamped down.
Your Haki flared, but he'd been expecting that. His hand covered itself in Haki as well, pushing against your much weaker version with overwhelming force.
The pressure crushed your windpipe. Your vision started to dot. Your Haki crumbled as you couldn't split your focus between protecting yourself and holding onto Law.
Your grip on Law loosened. You sobbed as his limp body fell back to the ground.
"Don't tell me you love this traitor," Doflamingo breathed in your face, his tone almost conversational.
Your face scrunched in defiance even as you struggled for air.
Then a slash of green flashed through the air.
Your body fell to the ground. Zoro was running, moving fast, carrying you away from the battle. You tried to focus, tried to see what was happening, but your vision was too foggy.
"Law?" you mumbled.
"He'll be fine," Zoro's gruff voice answered. "We'll get him back. I promise."
Then everything went black.
Your breath started to speed up as the memory flashed before your eyes. The red of blood, the fear of losing him.
A hand found your arm, yanking you back to the present.
You turned to see Law standing beside you, his expression calm and warm. You took a deep breath and reminded yourself: he was alive. You both were.
"You good?" he asked gently, his thumb rubbing circles on your arm.
You nodded. "I'm fine. Just worried about our crews."
Law hummed as he dug through his pocket. He held his palm open, and a small piece of paper sat in it.
Bepo's vivre card. Perfectly intact. No burn marks. No damage.
Your breath came easier. At least you knew Bepo was safe.
"They're all strong," Law said with a soothing voice. "Trust that they're alright."
You nodded, looking into his eyes. They were confident. Caring. Loving.
A blush threatened to cover your cheeks, and you turned your head away, unable to help yourself from biting your lip where his lips had pressed during that moment in the sunflower field.
You'd been lying on the ground looking up at bright sunflowers, bleeding from injuries inflicted by Doflamingo when you inevitably fell into his grasps. Luckily, using your tricks and illusions, you'd managed to escape your captors on your own.
A familiar shout cut through the field.
You looked up, and there—shining in the sun as if he were glowing—was Luffy. He was carrying Law over his shoulder.
Your smile grew soft as they landed a few meters away. "Traffy," you whispered.
When both captains' eyes landed on you, they filled with concern.
Luffy’s expression shifted from concern to pride as he slapped Law’s back, “See I told you they’d get themselves out!”
Law ignored him as he rushed over and slid onto his knees beside you. His breathing was hitching as he looked down at you, his eyes frantically searching your body, cataloging every injury with the precision of a trained surgeon.
You smiled up at him, your hand reaching to touch his face. "I'm fine, Traffy. I'll live."
But Law's panicked eyes continued their search, his hands hovering uncertainly over your wounds. Blood pouring out from various spots on your chest and stomach.
"Law, don't," you snapped gently grabbing his wrist as you saw him lift his hand to summon his Room. "Conserve your energy. You have a Warlord to face."
Law's eyes shook. His lips kept twitching as he struggled to find words, struggled to process you broken and bleeding in his arms.
"I'm sorry, Y/N," he finally said, his voice cracking, "This is my fault. If I didn't taunt Doflamingo—If I didn’t stop you from coming—"
Tears threatened to fall from his eyes.
You gave a sympathetic smile and placed your hand on his cheek. "No, Law. It's not your fault. It's his. Now stop worrying about me and go kick his ass."
Law stared down at you as if trying to memorize every detail of your face.
Then, in one fluid motion, he leaned down while lifting you gently and pressed his lips against yours.
Your eyes widened in shock. The pain in your body vanished, replaced by something like electricity running through your veins.
Then you relaxed, closing your eyes and deepening the kiss. Your hand pulled him slightly closer. All the chaos around you fell away. All you could feel was his lips on yours, the warmth of his body, the certainty of his presence.
It felt like forever when Law finally pulled away.
He pressed his forehead against yours, his breath coming in shaky waves. "I'm sorry, I— I had to—before—in case—" He stammered, trying hard not to let you go. "I just—I want you to know that I love you."
Your heart tightened at the vulnerability in his voice, at how broken and sincere he sounded.
You smiled. "I know. I love you too."
You gently pushed against him. "Now go. Go kick that bastard's ass."
Law smiled—a real smile, full of relief and determination—and gave a sharp nod.
You raised your hand to your lips, which still tingled from his kiss, and watched them go.
You couldn't help but touch your lips as the memory lingered. You looked up to see Law had moved forward, now listening to Robin as she made observations about the destroyed city.
You hadn't spoken about that moment since—too afraid to acknowledge what it meant. Was it just a moment born of death's closeness? Or something more?
You didn't even realize you truly loved Law until you watched him nearly vanish from your life. And now the thought of that ever happening again made your chest ache.
The past week, Law had been more confident than ever. Doflamingo was defeated. Law had survived. The way he held himself now—like he'd gained everything he could have ever wanted—made you smile despite the confusion churning inside you.
But the question remained: Did he think that kiss was a promise you'd stay with him?
Did you even know what you wanted to do?
"Y/N!" Usopp called, pulling you from your thoughts. "Can you tell Robin that her jokes are too demented!"
You shook head with a smile and rejoined your small crew.
"I mean, she might be right," Zoro laughed as Usopp continued to panic. "We don't know much about the Minks. Who's to say they aren't cannibals?"
"You brought us to a city of cannibals!" Usopp pointed at Law, who held a playful smirk.
"Would you even consider a Mink a cannibal if they ate a human?" Law taunted, clearly enjoying the sniper's panic. "I mean, we are different races."
You laughed walking up to them. "He's joking."
"Sure, joking." He smirked as Usopp dissolved under stress. "Though I have heard Bepo mention craving human flesh a few times."
Usopp's ghost flew out of him while you gently punched Law's arm. "Bepo has never said anything like that."
But Law was already chuckling.
Your group made their way through the forest. At some point during the walk, when your anxiety started rising again, Law's hand found yours. He gave it a small squeeze, and you gave him a small smile despite the ache in your heart.
You finally rejoined your captain, who rode in on a strange gator-like creature with long legs.
He jumped off with a large smile, greeting all of you and fussing about his recent adventure.
"Oh, Traffy! I saw your crew!" he said brightly when his attention finally landed on Law.
Your shoulders relaxed slightly.
Law nodded with clear relief. "Where exactly?"
Luffy pointed behind him. "Over that way. They were asking about you—seemed real excited to see you."
Law nodded and took a step forward but hesitated when you didn't move, your hand pulling slightly at his.
When he turned to look at you, your eyes were darting to the gate of the fortress where your crew was meant to be. You now knew the Heart Pirates were alright, but there were still too many unknowns about your own crew.
Law squeezed your hand carefully, drawing your attention back. You expected him to try to convince you to follow him, but instead, his expression held understanding and a small smile.
"Go see your crew," he said gently. "We won't be far. You'll see us soon."
You gave him a small, shaky smile and nod, carefully letting his hand go.
You watched him walk away, his steps more confident than they'd been a week ago. There was pride in his posture now—the pride of someone who'd faced his demons and won.
Behind you, the fortress gates opened. Nami and Chopper came running out, and your smile grew genuine as you turned to meet them.
It wasn't until night fell that your crew finally made their way to the Whale Forest, where Law and his crew were gathered.
The moment you jumped off the creature, shouts of your name pierced the air. You whipped your head around just before 19 Heart Pirates and a polar bear Mink tackled you to the ground with a collective "oof."
Before you could protest, you were snatched out from under them and set beside Law. His hands flew to your shoulders as you felt your knees buckle from the sudden transportation via his shambles.
Law's eyes scanned over you in concern before he whipped his head toward his crew with a furious look. "HAVE YOU ALL LOST YOUR MINDS!" His voice cut like a blade. "They're still recovering! You could have reopened a wound!"
You smirked slightly at his protective flare. You tapped his arm, which was still gripping your shoulder. "Law, I'm fine."
He still glared at his crew, disappointed by their carelessness. They were surgeons—they should know better. He huffed and released your shoulders, stepping back.
You chuckled before running up to the group, who quickly but gently enveloped you in a warm hug. "I missed you guys too."
That began the tears of the overly emotional crew. The Heart Pirates' words jumbled over each other as they expressed how much they'd missed you and how they didn't want you to leave again.
You couldn't help but frown at the request. Your heart was splitting between your two crews.
You quickly hid the frown with a giant smile when you pulled away from the hug.
Luffy jumped down from the creature with a smile. "After we meet Cat Viper and Lion Viper, let's have a party!" he shouted in delight.
Law groaned at the idea while both crews cheered.
The night sky grew darker, and as promised, Luffy brought the party.
The Minks had been kind, if not overwhelming so, but beneath the celebration was a tension you couldn't quite shake.
Your two worlds were colliding.
And soon, you would have to choose which one to stay in.
The village was crowded now—both crews mingling with the Minks, both captains in the same space. You spotted Bepo deep in conversation with Nami about navigation. Shachi and Penguin were watching Zoro handle his swords with obvious admiration. The Heart Pirates seemed fascinated by Chopper's medical knowledge, peppering him with questions.
Brook's voice sang over the crowd. Franky showed off his robot moves to a fascinated Ikkaku. Usopp told stories to the Zou kids, which the Heart Pirates joined with matching childhood wonder. Robin giggled as she listened. And Luffy stood at the center of the party, being the life of it.
The party was going well.
But you sat on the steps at the edge of everything, your knees pulled to your chest, watching.
Your heart felt torn in ways you couldn't articulate. You loved the Straw Hats—they'd made you who you were. They were your best friends, the people around whom you could be most fully yourself. They made you want to be greater.
But over two years, the Heart Pirates had become your family. You'd learned from them. They'd cared for you, and you cared for them. And the familiarity of it had brought something home that you'd lost in Flevance—reminders of your five brothers, of the life you'd had before everything was taken away.
And then there was Law.
You knew you were feelings starting to develop over the past two years but you had failed to realized the true extent of those feelings. And how much you truly loved him, until you nearly watched him die.
The question wasn't whether you'd stay with the Straw Hats or the Heart Pirates. That answer felt inevitable. The question was whether you could bear to leave him.
Your frown deepened with each thought.
"Usually I'm the one pouting at the edge of a party."
You looked up to see Law standing above you, his hands in his pockets, a slight smirk on his face.
You huffed and looked away, your chin resting on your knees.
"May I sit?" he asked gently.
You scoffed, still trapped in your thoughts over the predicament he has placed you in. He sat down anyway, settling beside you on the steps.
For a long moment, neither of you spoke.
"You don't have to choose," he said finally.
You rolled your eyes. Of course you had to choose. Maybe not tonight, maybe not even this month, but eventually the time would come when you had to decide which crew truly had your loyalty.
He let out a long sigh at your silence. "Look, I won't let you rejoin the Heart Pirates."
You turned to look at him sharply, your brow pinched. "What are you talking about?"
"I'm saying that I won't accept you back on my crew."
You straightened in shock, your heart tightening painfully. Your eyes began to water before you could stop them, thoughts slamming into you like a typhoon.
Law's jaw clenched as he realized how his words had landed. He groaned and grabbed his hat, fidgeting with it anxiously. "What I mean say is... You need to stay with the Straw Hats."
"But Law, I—" Your voice cracked. "I thought—You said—Did you not—"
You couldn't finish the sentences. Couldn't articulate the fear that he was taking back his confession, that what happened in Dressrosa had just been a moment born of desperation rather than truth.
Your breath caught in your throat. Your heart pounded.
The rejection squeezed at your entire body.
Law's eyes widened as he saw your tears forming, realizing how you'd interpreted his words. "Wait, Y/N," he said in a panic, reaching for your shoulders. "That's not what I mean."
You looked at him, and he could see the trembling in your gaze, the way you were bracing yourself for heartbreak.
"I meant what I said in Dressrosa," he said firmly. "I love you."
His voice left no room for argument. You sniffled, but your lips still shook as you fought the tears.
"Y/N, I love you," he repeated, even firmer this time. His grip on your shoulders was steady, grounding. "I’ve loved you since I saw you on that deck teaching yourself how to fight with a sword. That hasn't changed. That won’t change."
You relaxed slightly, choosing to believe him, but confusion still clouded your features.
Law's expression softened as he searched for the right words. "You being on a different crew won't change that," he said quietly.
"But Law, I—"
"You're staying with the Straw Hats. That's final."
The words should have sounded cold, but they didn't. There was something almost loving about the firmness.
You lowered your head, swallowing hard against the lump in your throat. "Why?"
Law was silent for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter. "Because you belong with them."
He looked away from you, toward your crew laughing in the distance. "I didn't want to admit it at first. But seeing you with them, in full strength... I realized I was holding you back."
"That's not true!" you snapped in defense. "You taught me so much. I'm so much stronger because of your crew—"
"That was because of you, not us," he interrupted gently. "You were so determined to be better for your captain. You trained yourself. Your discipline came from within."
You wanted to argue, but he continued before you could.
"As your captain, I held you back. Kept you hidden." He paused.
“But that was to stay out of the Marines radar. I needed to be hidden so no one realizes who I was.”
Law shook his head, “That was only partially the reason.”
Your brows furrowed.
"A good part of it was because wearing that suit made it feel like you belonged to me.” Shame covered his face as he looked away, “That you were permanently part of my crew. Not someone else's."
The honesty in those words, the vulnerability of admitting that kind of possessiveness, made your anxiety soften.
"But that was never the plan," he continued. "You were never meant to stay with my crew permanently. You have so much more to do. You have a dream to chase. And seeing you this week, seeing how brilliant and strong you are… You have to stay with the straw hats." He mumbled the last part as if he wish it wasn’t true.
You shifted to look back at the party, at Luffy's bright smile at the center of everything.
"Have I ever told you what that dream was?" you finally said.
Law sat straighter. "No. I always thought it had something to do with magic."
You shook your head. "Magic was just survival. Tricks to keep moving, to stay alive." You took a shaky breath, and when you looked at him, your eyes held conviction. "My dream is to take down the World Government. To make sure what happened to Flevance never happens again. To make sure no other country has to fear that kind of power."
Law's entire body went still.
His eyes widened slightly at the vastness of the dream. His head shifted toward the Straw Hat captain.
He understood immediately. This wasn't a dream you could chase with just anyone. This was a dream that required someone like Luffy. Someone who'd already challenged the celestial dragons. Someone destined to become King of the Pirates.
His jaw tightened as he looked at Luffy, the chaotic captain who seemed to bend the world to his will through sheer force of conviction.
"That's why you said he allowed you to dream again," Law said quietly.
You nodded. "Because with him, my dream doesn't feel impossible. It feels like something I can actually be a part of."
Law turned away with a tsk, and you could see the moment he fully accepted it.
"But then I saw my worst nightmare," you continued, your voice barely a whisper. "And now that dream doesn't feel as important."
Law looked back at you with concern and understanding.
Your eyes filled with tears as you thought of Dressrosa, of watching him get shot, of thinking he was dead, of that moment when something clicked in your head and you realized you loved him more than you were afraid of your own death.
"Following Luffy means achieving my dream," you said softly. "But following you means protecting my nightmare."
Law's eyes shook with understanding. He pulled you closer, his hand settling on the back of your head, tucking you against his chest, while his chin rested in your hair.
"I love you, Law," you confessed into his chest. "I don't want to lose you."
"I'm perfectly capable of keeping myself alive," he assured you.
You pulled back just enough to glare at him.
His nose scrunched slightly. "Okay, fine. I'll do better."
"You're planning on fighting an Emperor next."
"After that, I'll do better?" he attempted with the barest hint of a smirk.
You huffed, releasing some of the tension you'd been holding. "This isn't easy, Law."
"I know," he said, and the weight of understanding in his voice was almost unbearable. "That's why I'm removing the choice."
"That's not fair," you said, but there was less sadness in it now. More resignation. "You're making the decision for me."
"I am," he acknowledged. He cupped your face gently, forcing you to meet his eyes. "But I'm doing it because I know what you'll choose eventually. Your dream is too important. And I'd rather make this choice for you and know you're following what matters, than let you choose me and watch you resent me for what you're giving up."
The vulnerability in his admission, the way he was choosing your freedom over his own want, broke something open in your chest.
"So what does this mean?" you asked quietly. "What happens when everything is finished?"
Law let out a disgruntled chuckle. "I'll tell you this much—I'm not keeping this alliance with Straw Hat. The moment Kaido is defeated, I'm getting as far away from that idiot as I can."
You chuckled despite yourself, but then your expression shifted to a frown. "But that would make us enemies."
"No," he said firmly. "Straw Hat and I will be rivals. Only him and me. Not the rest of our crews."
"But if you attack Luffy—"
"How dumb do you think I am?" he said in mock offense. "I'm not going to attack him. I'm just not going to pretend the alliance means anything beyond defeating Kaido."
You pulled your knees back into your chest, processing. After everything was over, you'd be with the Straw Hats, and he'd be with the Heart Pirates. You'd be on opposite sides, but not enemies. It made a strange kind of sense.
"Will we see each other again?" you asked, the question coming out smaller than you intended. "After everything?"
Law smiled, and it transformed his entire face. "Of course we will. Just like how we met at that small village. We're connected, Y/N. Fate will bring us back together."
You turned your head with teary eyes. "You really believe that?"
He nodded and cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. "With you, always."
He leaned toward you slowly, giving you time to pull away if you wanted to. But you didn't. You met him halfway, and this time, there was no desperation in the kiss—just certainty.
You wrapped your arms around his neck and held him close. The party faded away. Your crews faded away. There was only this—the warmth of his touch, the gentle pressure of his lips, the way your hearts seemed to synchronize.
When you pulled back, your forehead rested against his, your eyes meeting his. The warm twinkle in his amber gaze, so similar to your own, held something permanent. A promise.
You sat there for a moment, just taking him in, memorizing the exact shade of amber and gold in his eyes, the feel of his hands on your face, the certainty in his expression.
"EWWWW!"
Luffy's disgusted shout shattered the moment.
You huffed humorously, your head falling to Law's shoulder as you buried yourself in his neck. Your captain's voice grew louder.
"Get off my crew mate, Traffy!"
Law's breath hitched slightly at the feeling of your breath against his neck. His head snapped toward the gathering crews, where suddenly everyone had stopped what they were doing to stare.
Robin was giggling behind her hand. Usopp was already sprinting after Luffy, trying to hold him back. Zoro and Franky held matching smirks, already aware of what was happening. Nami and Brook's jaws had dropped in shock.
Law's crew looked equally scandalized, their expressions ranging from surprise to teasing delight.
Law huffed at their stares and raised his hand.
Reality warped.
You and he vanished.
Luffy stormed onto the spot where you'd been sitting, his fist clenched. "TRAFFY! Y/N is my crewmate, not yours! Get back here and fight me!" Though by his tone, you could tell he wasn't entirely serious.
Law smirked at the frustrated captain from the window of the room he'd transported you to, watching him rage impotently below.
"You know he will actually fight you," you said from behind him, amusement clear in your voice as you sat on the bed. Your elbow resting on your knee propping your chin up, "Though probably not with his full power. He's honorable like that."
Law shrugged, turning back to face you. "And that is another reason why you're not joining my crew."
"You should probably tell him that."
"Maybe later." Law's smirk widened as a devilish look entered his eyes. "But for now…”
He took a step forward.
“For now you're mine."
You let out a shrill laugh as you fell back onto the bed.
Law fell over you, caging you between his arms. You looked up at his expression—that rare, unguarded smile that he only showed when he thought no one was watching.
"Law—" you started.
But he was already descending, peppering kisses across your neck, your collarbone, anywhere he could reach. You couldn't help but laugh under his touch, your fingers finding their way into his dark hair.
The world disappeared.
Outside, Luffy continued to rage. Your crews continued to celebrate. But in this small space, it was just the two of you—two survivors of Flevance, two people who'd found each other against impossible odds.
Two people who'd learned that love wasn't about keeping someone. It was about letting them shine, even if they shined brightest somewhere else.
And knowing that fate or whatever force governed the universe, would always bring you back together.
<<First | <Previous | Deleted Scenes
A/N: Thank you all for reading this last part! I will say it's not my proudest work when it comes to pacing but I wanted to keep things more vague for the x reader genre.
Thank you for reading! if you enjoy post like this check out my Masterlist. and if you want to send me a request for my next post please send me a message! If you liked this and want to support me I have a tip jar on Ko-fi.
Also let's all take a moment and thank @elliescrolls for the comment: "ps law should understand that you can in fact be in love with someone that's on a different crew. that does mean spending time apart BUT i think it can add to a more angsty/fluff reunion :-)" That is what brought about this ending :)
I won't be writing out a reunion because it will probably go the same as the happy ending for Pages of Promise.
And I promised angst for this part but it mostly got deleted which you can find here.
Thank you all for loving this, I have started planning my next Law x reader story with inspiration from the song Lust by Marino.
Part IV of Let me be your first (MDNI, see for all tags)
Words (for this part): 5k
Notes: It was supposed to be just smutty smut with barely any plot, but I couldn’t help myself. The fluff came pretty easily, but I really struggled with the smut—letting go of the cringe and making sure all the limbs made sense was harder than I expected, especially since physical actions and descriptions aren’t my strong suit. I definitely prefer writing dialogue and reflections.
Anyway, I’m rambling 😅 Sorry for the long wait! I hope everything makes sense, but if anything feels off—or just plain awful—please let me know, as I don't feel that confident in writing this type of content (also I do not have beta, so, well… it is what it is.).
Hope you enjoy! 🤭
🫶 @ssrist 🫶 (If you want to be tagged, just let me know! Since it’s an NSFW story, make sure you’ve clearly stated on your blog that you’re of age)
YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ!
Life had prepared you for many things. You knew how to survive, how to adapt, how to master a dozen random skills, but it had never taught you how to tell your best friend, your captain, your doctor, that you wanted to see him fall apart beneath your touch.
He was standing in the middle of the room, going over an agenda for the next island you were about to visit. You should have been listening. Instead, you were stuck in the past.
When he ordered everyone around, you heard him ask softly if you were all right. When he gestured at the map, you felt his fingers tracing your skin. When he looked at everyone else, you saw his dazed eyes roaming over your naked body.
It had been more than a month since he’d made you come all over his fingers—and then denied you the chance to reciprocate. More than a month of obsessing over the idea of ending up in bed with the infamous Surgeon of Death again.
You kept wondering whether you could make him feel as good as he’d made you. Whether it was true that men were easier to please than women. Whether he even still wanted to continue whatever it was you’d started.
You came back to reality a bit too late.
Law was already laser-focused on you, arms crossed, wearing that expression he got when he was done dealing with someone else’s nonsense.
“What?” you asked.
“You’re not paying attention. Again.”
That again dragged you straight back to that meeting over a month ago, when you’d been too busy imagining his fingers on you to listen to his plan. You wanted to rebut—not admit to daydreaming, and definitely not about that.
“We leave at six. You’re with Cap and Bepo,” Ikkaku whispered. She was sitting beside you, as usual, and as usual, she had your back.
“You said we leave at six, and I’m with you and Bepo. I got this,” you said out loud.
Law raised an eyebrow, rolled his eyes, and muttered, “Good thing you’re at least listening to Ikkaku.”
He didn’t wait for a response before continuing with the plan. This time, you forced yourself to listen.
The meeting dissolved the way it always did: chairs scraping, voices overlapping, Law already halfway gone in full-focus mode.
Ikkaku bumped your knee with hers as you stood. “You look like you just ran a thousand miles in your head,” she murmured.
“Did I?” you asked, too quickly.
“Well,” she said, stretching her arms over her head, “at least you survived the meeting without getting yelled at.”
“Low bar,” you replied.
“Still counts.” She leaned closer, voice dropping. “Six o’clock. Don’t be late. Cap hates that.”
Then you went with Law and Bepo.
At first, it was the three of you moving through the dock together, the island already loud with color and noise. Lanterns were being strung overhead, music drifting from somewhere deeper inland. Bepo’s ears twitched the moment he noticed.
“Festival,” he said, brightening instantly. “Captain, look—”
Law barely spared it a glance, adjusting the nodachi strapped at his side. “We’re not here for that.”
But Bepo was already halfway gone, drawn in by food stalls and unfamiliar scents, apologizing over his shoulder as he disappeared into the crowd.
You watched him go, then looked back at Law. “Well. That didn’t take long.”
He adjusted his coat, eyes following the direction Bepo vanished in. “He’ll catch up later.”
“Sure,” you said lightly, shifting your bag higher on your shoulder. “After he eats enough to get a tummyache.”
Law huffed—a quiet, unwilling sound that might have been amusement. You fell into step beside him as you walked, the space between you narrow without either of you acknowledging it.
“So,” you said, after a beat. “Is there a reason you are so tense? I mean, it should be a chill visit and all that.”
“You never know,” he replied, scanning the street ahead with practiced sharpness. “Also, I am not tense.”
You raised an eyebrow. Such a blatant lie. He had to know you wouldn’t buy that.
You gestured vaguely near his brow. “It’s kind of obvious. You get this little crease right here.”
He finally turned his head, giving you a look over the rim of his hat. “Careful,” he said. “You’re paying a lot of attention for someone who couldn’t follow a meeting.”
“Hey,” you shot back, defensive on instinct. “I just learn better one-on-one.”
“One-on-one,” he repeated, slower now, eyes narrowing just slightly as if he were turning the phrase over in his mind and finding more meaning than you intended.
“Oh—no,” you said quickly, waving a hand. “That’s not what I meant. And you know it.”
“Like what?” he asked, the corner of his mouth twitching.
Your stomach flipped. You looked away, pretending to find something fascinating on the road ahead.
“Um—I didn’t mean it like that,” you muttered. “And you know it.”
“Like what?” he pressed again.
You didn’t have enough confidence for that. So you stirred the conversation elsewhere.
Clearing your throat, you gestured again, closer this time—your hand hovering near his brow, close enough that he definitely noticed. “That crease,” you said. “It only shows up when you’re trying really hard not to think about something.”
He went still, steps slowing just a fraction.
“And what,” he asked, voice dry, “do you believe I’m thinking about so, so hard?”
For half a second, the answer came too easily.
Hopefully having you close again.
You swallowed and pulled your hand back, curling your fingers into your palm like they’d given you away. “I don’t know,” you said lightly.
“Don’t you?” He reached up to fuss with his hat—straightening the brim, tilting it, anything to give his hands something to do.
You didn’t answer. And he didn’t press on.
“We—we need to focus on our mission.”
You raised a brow. “There’s barely a mission here. We’re just picking up supplies.”
“That still counts,” he insisted. “And I don’t see you carrying any.”
You scoffed. “I’m on your team, and you don’t have any either.”
He hesitated, jaw tightening as he realized he’d walked straight into that one. After a beat, he exhaled through his nose and looked away.
“Let’s just… get it done.”
The medical supply shop was cramped and overstocked, shelves packed so tightly that you kept brushing shoulders as you passed each other.
Law handled the talking. Bandages, antiseptic, painkillers—practical things. You watched the way his fingers moved with confidence, how he double-checked labels out of habit, how his voice steadied when he focused.
Outside, the air was cleaner, sunlight filtering through the trees at the edge of town where wild herbs grew. You crouched to gather what you could recognize, tying them off with twine while he hovered nearby, pretending to be useful. When you finally glanced up, he was staring at something small and bright near the base of a rock—a single flower pushing up through the dirt, stubborn and a little crooked.
He picked it.
By the time you stood, herbs bundled under your arm, he was suddenly very interested in adjusting his collar.
“So,” he said, casual in theory only. “Uh. This was… there.”
He held the flower out like it might explode.
You blinked. “Is that for me?”
“I mean—if you want it. You don’t have to. I just thought—never mind. Forget it.” He started to pull his hand back.
You took it before he could retreat.
“It’s nice.”
He scratched at his cheek, gaze fixed stubbornly on the tree line. “Yeah. Well. You’re—” He cleared his throat, obviously hating every second of this. “I mean. It reminded me of you.”
That stopped you short.
That was…unfamiliar behavior for your captain.
You smiled despite yourself. “Thank you. That’s cute.”
He recoiled instantly. “I’m not cute,” he shot back, offended on principle alone.
“You are,” you said without missing a beat.
He finally looked at you then, incredulous. You knew most people wouldn’t dare say that to him—wouldn’t risk the look and the sharp comeback. Possibly an outburst. But you were close. You knew how deeply he cared for everyone, how he kept himself locked tight because caring had cost him too much already. How he made sure everyone ate properly, checked in when someone looked a little too withdrawn, quietly set aside the crew’s money just to pick up everyone’s favorite sweets like it was nothing.
You remembered how careful he’d been with you, too. How your first kiss hadn’t been rushed but made to be a sweet memory. And later—when things had edged closer, unfamiliar and fragile—he’d been the same. Pulling back the instant you hesitated, never pushing, never expecting anything in return.
Cute was the way he cared too much and hid it behind stubbornness and bluster. Cute was this—flowers held out awkwardly, affection offered sideways, always pretending it meant less than it did.
He scoffed, folding his arms. “You’re exaggerating.”
“I’m really not.”
He opened his mouth to argue, already halfway into a rebuttal.
“Yes, you are,” you cut in, voice quieter now, but firmer. “It’s in the way you care. For everyone. For me.” The words spilled out before you could second-guess them. “If you weren’t cute in any way, I wouldn’t want you so close.”
You mumbled the last part, already regretting it, heart thudding too loud in your ears.
When you dared to glance up, his arms had loosened, posture slack like you’d knocked the wind out of him. His ears were red—actually red—and he looked just as flustered as you felt.
“We’re just… comfortable.”
You snorted. “That’s one word for it.”
“I was fulfilling an agreement.” He crossed his arms.
That made you laugh. You folded your arms in imitation of him, exaggerating the pose. “You must be the most honorable pirate then.”
He chuckled, then gave you a smug grin. “They should add that to my wanted poster.”
You snorted again, nudging his boot lightly with yours. “They really should.”
“Do you still want to carry out that arrangement?” he asked.
You raised a brow, watching him. “Do you?”
“I asked you first.”
“Very mature.”
“Answer me.”
There it was—that bossy, clipped tone. That one that reminded you why he was the one in charge. Why he was able to handle your crew and all your shenanigans.
“Yes,” you said at last, a little softer. “But only if you want to.”
“Alright. Let’s do another lesson soon.”
“You’re calling them lessons like you have any more experience than me,” you teased.
“I don’t. But I did some research to ensure it’s good for you. From a medical point of view.” His tone stayed perfectly flat, but the faint color creeping into the tips of his ears betrayed him.
You noticed immediately.
“Oh,” you said sweetly, leaning in just enough that he had to glance back at you. “That’s cute too.”
He groaned. “Let’s go,” he muttered. “Before you start listing examples.”
You bumped his shoulder as you walked past him. “Scared I’ll prove my point, Captain?”
He followed immediately, matching your pace. “Scared you already have.”
Soon you met up with Bepo again, who was practically bursting with pride. Somehow, despite getting completely swept up in the festival—stopping at every food stall, playing a few games, and even getting a temporary face painting—he had actually done his part. You couldn’t help but grin as he carried bags and bundles, waving a paw toward you.
“Look! Look what I got!” he said, nearly tripping over his own feet in excitement.
You and Law helped carry everything back to the submarine, navigating the narrow dock with careful steps. By the time the last bag was stowed away, the crew had gathered around, rubbing their hands together and casting hopeful looks toward Law.
“Alright,” he said, arms crossed, frowning at the merry chaos around him. “We’re done here. Let’s move out.”
“Not so fast!” Shachi piped up, hands clasped together and eyes sparkling. “The festival’s just getting good! Can’t we stay a little longer?”
“Tch…” Law muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. You could see him trying to resist. And then Bepo tilted his head slightly, giving that little “please” look that would melt anyone’s heart.
Law groaned but finally relented. “Fine.”
The crew erupted in cheers, and even Law found himself drawn into the crowd a little and went with most of you back to the town.
Later, the others called out, waving you toward a lively bar tucked between narrow streets, music spilling into the night. You shook your head politely, offering a small, regretful smile. The raucous energy, the clamor of voices and laughter—it wasn’t for you tonight.
Instead, you found yourself slipping quietly into the captain’s quarters, carrying a small folded package. You couldn’t help the mischievous little smile tugging at your lips.
Law, who left way earlier than anyone and was already on a submarine, looked up from his desk, pen paused mid-note, eyebrows raised. “What?”
You stepped closer, holding the package out like it was a fragile treasure. “For you.”
He squinted at it, tilting his head. “Why?”
You shrugged lightly, pretending casual indifference. “You got me a flower.”
He blinked, caught off guard by your logic. “One. And one that would die soon. This… is something more.”
Your lips twitched in exasperation. “…Oh, for fuck’s sake. Just accept it.”
Finally, he reached out and took the package from your hands. The corners of his mouth lifted into the faintest, almost imperceptible smile, though he was careful not to let it reach his eyes fully.
Law carefully unfolded the package. Inside lay the small bookmark: a strip of sturdy paper with tiny, delicate illustrations of the very same flower he got you, inked carefully along the edge.
“…Thoughtful. Annoying, but thoughtful.”
You raised an eyebrow, leaning slightly closer, a teasing smile on your lips. “I think you meant thank you.”
He glanced at you, a flash of exasperation in his eyes, before letting out a short sigh. “Fine. Thank you,” he said, his tone clipped, but softer than before.
“That’s better,” you replied, letting your gaze linger on him, taking in the subtle ease in his shoulders.
‘Why didn’t you go with the others?’ he asked.
“Didn’t feel like it. Wanted to bother you instead.” You shrugged, trying to be casual.
“What kind of bother?” His brow lifted slightly, voice teasing.
Well, that was loaded. You hesitated, fidgeting with your fingers, avoiding his eyes. “I don’t know… just to spend time here,” you mumbled. But he caught it anyway, reading through the nervous twitch of your hands and the little quirk of your lips.
“So,” he said finally, his voice dropping to a low, careful tone, “how about a lesson today?”
You blinked, forcing a light, teasing lilt to your words even as your fingers twitched restlessly. “Well… I mean, I’m ready if you are.”
He studied you for a moment, that familiar calculating pause, then nodded. “… Then. Let’s begin.”
He reached for you, and before you could react, his lips met yours. At first it was slow as usual, testing, exploring, but soon, the kisses grew more urgent, more fierce. Your hands found his shoulders, gripping slightly as the heat of the moment flared between you.
You stumbled back against the edge of his desk, the solid wood pressing into your back, and a soft gasp escaped your lips. Your balance wavered. He pressed closer, his hands cupping your face, tilting your chin up, and you realized just how beautifully overwhelming this moment was.
“Law—!” you started, heart hammering in your chest, but the words were lost as he captured your lips again, fingers tangling in the fabric of your shirt.
The desk was in the way. Your hip bumped hard against it, jostling you both. The sharp edge dug into your side, and the sudden discomfort snapped you slightly out of the whirlwind of sensation.
You pulled back, cheeks flaming, stumbling a step away. “Uh… maybe… the bed?” you said, voice awkward, breath uneven, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.
“Fine,” he said, his voice calm, yet the way he reached for your hand gave him away, guiding you gently but urgently toward the bed.
The bed was definitely softer than the desk had been, but the awkwardness between you appeared instead. You lay side by side, a careful distance separating your bodies, each aware of the other without quite touching. Law’s eyes tracked you with intensity, while you stared at the ceiling, tracing invisible patterns with your gaze to distract yourself from the heat of his scrutiny.
“You're nervous.” It wasn't a question.
“Aren't you?” you countered, trying to keep your tone playful even as your heart raced.
“I saw you naked before,” he stated, pretending so hard to be nonchalant, but you knew him better than that.
“I am aware of that, thank you,” you responded sarcastically.
“We don’t have to do anything. Are you aware of that?”
“Obviously. Are you?
“Obviously.”
You snorted. “See? How could I be like this with a stranger? It’s awkward with you sometimes, and you saw me at my worst. Like, how can you just trust someone random like that?”
“Then don’t. You’ve got me.”
For now, you thought. But that arrangement—this so-called lesson—was temporary, a fleeting contract of sorts. Once you learned and experienced, it would be over, and if you wanted more, you’d have to chase that closeness elsewhere. That thought should have been thrilling, but instead, it pressed against your chest like a strange pang that you chose to ignore.
“Well, obviously I trust you more than a stranger,” you retorted, attempting to sound confident. “But that doesn't make this whole situation any less…awkward.”
“Alright then, let's get awkward.”
With that, Law leaned in. Slowly. Close enough that the warmth of his breath brushed your lips, his face now only inches from yours. He paused there thoughtfully, golden eyes searching yours—giving you one last, silent chance to pull away.
But that wasn’t what crossed your mind.
Instead, you reached up, cupping his face in both hands and pulling him the rest of the way in. Your lips met his in a quick, decisive kiss.
Then another.
And another.
Each one a little less careful than the last, until the hesitation that had knotted your chest disappeared completely, even when Law's hand sneaked its way to pull down a zipper on your boiler suit, and you lifted a bit to help him push the material off your chest, leaving you with flimsy top.
You gasped into the kiss, feeling Law's hand move underneath your tank top to cup your breast through your bra. Your nipple hardened under his touch, a jolt of pleasure shooting through you. You arched into his hand, craving more contact.
Law pulled back from the kiss, a smirk on his lips. “Sensitive, aren't you?” he teased, giving your breast a gentle squeeze.
“Shut up,” you breathed, face flushed and tingling. You grabbed his wrist, guiding his hand to squeeze harder. “Don't stop.”
Feeling encouraged by your reaction, Law slipped his hand under your bra, pushing it up, now touching your bare breast directly. His fingers found your hardened nipple, rolling and pinching it.
You gasped and arched as Law's fingers teased and massaged your sensitive nipple, sending waves of pleasure through your body. Your hands began to roam greedily over his chest and arms, feeling the firm muscles beneath his shirt.
Law's other hand drifted lower, slipping beneath the waistband of your pants. His fingers brushed against the soft skin of your hip, making you shiver.
“Wait,” you gasped out.
Law froze immediately. “What’s wrong?” he asked, the shift in his expression instant—concern reflected across his eyes as his hands ceased moving.
“Nothing,” you said quickly, trying to catch your breath. “It's just… it's your turn.”
“My turn?” Law looked at you like you'd grown a second head, his brow furrowing in confusion.
You nodded, biting your lip. “Yeah, you made me feel good last time. I want to learn how to make a guy feel good too.”
For a second he just stared at you, processing, then huffed out a quiet breath that almost sounded like a laugh.
“Later,” he said firmly.
“Law—”
“For now,” he interrupted, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face, his voice gentler but just as insistent, “just let me…”
Law's hands were trembling slightly as he reached for the hem of your top, his eyes never leaving yours. In one swift motion, he peeled the fabric up and off, tossing it carelessly to the side. His gaze flicked down, taking in the sight of bare skin, the swell of breasts encased in the simple cotton bra.
Then his hands drifted down, skimming over the sensitive skin of your stomach, hips, before hooking into the waistband of pants. With a sharp tug, he yanked your boiler suit down, exposing your legs and underwear. Then he did quick work on your underwear too, leaving you once again bare beside him.
He took his time, his tattooed hands mapping out every curve and contour of your body as if committing it to memory. He traced the line of your collarbone, the dip of waist, the flare of hips…
By the time he settled between your thighs, you were panting, skin flushed, and body aching with a need. And then, with a wicked grin and a gleam in his eye, Law set to work, determined to unravel you completely.
Your heart raced as Law’s fingers moved, his rhythm growing more confident with each passing second. Even though he’d only done it once before, it didn’t take him long to figure out what worked—how to keep you right on that edge, every movement more confident than the last. You could barely catch my breath, chest heaving. The room filled with the sound of your soft gasps and whines, and the slick motions of his hand.
“Don't stop… please don't stop…” you whimpered, fingers digging into the sheets beneath you.
He didn't respond, too focused on his task. His brow was creased in concentration, determined to make you feel as good as last time, hopefully even better.
The tension built and built until finally, with a loud gasp, you came undone. Your back arched off the bed, inner walls clenching around his fingers as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you.
He didn't let up, working you through orgasm with single-minded intensity until you collapsed back onto the bed. But he still didn't stop. He kept going, kept touching, kept stroking, until you could feel another peak building fast and hard. You were so sensitive, every nerve ending raw and exposed, but it felt too good to make him stop.
“Wait, I… I can't… ahhh!” you gasped, hips bucking up to meet his hand as he drove you towards another peak. The pleasure was almost too much to bear, the sensation of it stealing the breath from your lungs and the strength from your limbs.
This time, when you came, it was with a long, low moan of his name. Your body shook and shuddered, orgasm ripping through you with a force that left you utterly boneless. Law finally slowed his movements, letting you catch your breath as you lay there panting and twitching with aftershocks.
“You know,” you murmured after a moment, “I think I'm starting to get the hang of this. Maybe it's time for a little payback,” you insisted breathlessly. “I want to learn. I want to touch you too.”
Law paused, looking into your eyes.
“You're serious,” he murmured. You nodded, reaching up to cup his face.
“Completely. I want to explore every inch of you, just like you've explored me.” You let your hand drift down his neck, over his collarbone, feeling the heat of his skin.
Law swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. “Alright,” he said, his voice rougher. “If you insist.”
He leaned back, giving you more access to his body. You took the invitation eagerly, sitting on him, your hands roaming over his chest, feeling the hard planes and ridges of muscle beneath his shirt. You could see his heart beating faster, matching your own racing pulse.
Encouraged, you leaned in and pressed a kiss to his collarbone. You felt Law shudder beneath you, a quiet groan leaving his lips. Your hands continued to explore, slipping under the hem of his shirt to caress the hot skin underneath.
Your fingers danced over his abs, tracing the defined lines, as you placed open-mouthed kisses along his collarbone and up his neck.
One of his hands tangled in your hair, gripping it lightly as he tilted his head to give you better access. The other hand slid down to grip your hip, squeezing the flesh there.
Feeling braver, you tugged at the hem of his shirt, looking up at Law with a question in your eyes. He understood your unspoken request, quickly pulling his shirt off and tossing it aside. Now you could see all of him, the ink on his skin, and the beauty of his body.
You slid a thigh between his legs, feeling the growing hardness there. You rubbed against it subtly as you kissed and licked your way up to his jaw, his chin, his mouth.
Law groaned so perfectly, his breath hitching as you nipped at his bottom lip. Spurred on by his reaction, you reached down and popped the button on his jeans, then slowly slid down the zipper. Then you took his pants and underwear off.
Your eyes widened as you took him in. He looked incredible, though that hardly came as a surprise. Still, seeing him like this, with nothing between you, made your breath catch in a way you hadn’t expected. It was the first time you’d ever seen a man naked, and the reality of it was even better than you had imagined. Whatever vague ideas you’d had before didn’t quite compare to the real thing. If anything, the truth was far more striking than anything your imagination had managed to come up with.
Then again, maybe it wasn’t entirely fair to compare. This wasn’t just any man.
He lay on his back, the dark lines of his tattoos standing out boldly against his skin. They rose and fell with each slow breath, drawing your eyes across familiar patterns you’d seen countless times before—yet somehow they looked different now.
And so did he.
There was a look on his face you’d never seen before. Not the calm, unreadable expression he usually wore, nor the teasing smirk, nor the annoyance when he was mad. This was something else entirely.
Without hesitation, you wrapped your hand around his hard length. It throbbed against your palm, pulsing with a life of its own. You stroked him slowly, getting a feel for his shape and size.
Law cursed under his breath, his hips jerking up slightly as you touched him.
“Fuck, that feels good,” he mumbled.
Your thumb swiped over the leaking tip, spreading the bead of moisture around. Law shuddered, his hand fisting in your hair.
“Like this?” you asked, looking up at him with a coy smile. “Or do you want to show me how you like it?”
“Keep going,” he commanded, his eyes intense as they bored into yours. “You're doing just fine.”
You hadn’t expected to get it right so quickly, but any doubts melted away as Law’s breath hitched, his chest rising and falling faster with every movement, responding to your touch. His hips began to rock into your touch, seeking more friction.
“Don't stop,” he grumbled. “Fuck, your hand feels incredible…”
Your own breathing grew heavier as you focused on pleasing him, wanting to do everything right for your best friend's first time.
He tried to keep his composure, to maintain some semblance of the calm, collected surgeon, of the strict captain, but it was a losing battle. Each drag of your fingers chipped away at his control until he was left a panting mess.
And what a marvelous sight it was.
“I'm gonna…” he gasped out, his voice strained. Then you felt the first hot spurt of his release, coating your hand and his stomach. It pulsed out in strong bursts, his member jerking and throbbing against your palm as he found his peak.
Law's grip on your hair eased as the intense sensations washed through him, his body going slack against the mattress. You watched, fascinated and a little awed.
Finally, his breathing began to slow, and his member softened slightly in your hand. You felt pride at having reduced this strong, competent man to such a state of blissful vulnerability.
Law opened his eyes, looking down at you with a lazy, satisfied grin.
“Not bad.”
“Yeah?” you asked, heart still racing.
“I wouldn’t lie,” he replied.
“I would hope so,” you murmured, biting back a grin.
He cleaned you and himself up, and you made a conscious effort not to comment on the fact that he already had tissues within arm’s reach beside his bed.
Afterward, he handed you a glass of water, let you use his shower, and even his products—small gestures that many would have found surprisingly considerate. But not you. You already knew this was part of why so many followed him, why people gravitated toward Law. Even when he tried to hide it, his care ran deeper than he let on.
“What?” he asked, catching your lingering stare.
“Nothing,” you said quickly, turning away, but he raised an eyebrow, unamused.
“I’m glad I’m doing this with you,” you admitted softly. “A stranger would never care like that.”
He opened his mouth, probably to say something, but by the time he registered your words, you were already gone, leaving him with nothing but a bewildered look.
Part III of Let me be your first (MDNI, see for all tags)
Words (for this part): 4.8k
Notes: I really thought I would struggle with it way more, lol. I originally wanted them to do even more in this chapter, but since it grew quite large I’m just going to drag the story out longer too. :) It’s kinda dialogue-heavy, but dialogue is always the easiest form for me to write, so it just happened.
Sorry for the small delay. In some comment, I said I would put it up last week, but first I got my period, and the last thing I wanted at that time was anything smut-related, lol. Then, when I went to edit, everything was either “soft” or “gentle,” and apparently Law had three hands at one point, so I had to tweak it a bit more. I hope all the limb actions make sense now. If don't, or anything else is just plain awful, please let me know, that's the first smut I'm sharing. 😅
Hope you enjoy! 🤭
🫶 @ssrist 🫶 (If you want to be tagged, just let me know! Since it’s an NSFW story, make sure you’ve clearly stated on your blog that you’re of age)
YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ!
You were anxious—you’d made plans with Law to be each other’s first, and you knew you were more than ready. The thought alone made your pulse quicken. You were eager—maybe even too eager—to do it with someone who was supposed to be just a best friend. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea, but when you looked at Law’s tattooed hands as he traced something on a map, your mind drifted far from the plan he was explaining… to the way those same hands might feel against your skin instead.
“Pay attention.” Law snapped you back to the reality.
Did his commands always affect you like that, or were you just losing your mind right now?
“Are you in there?” he called, tapping his fingers against the desk.
He was losing his patience, and you couldn’t help but wonder… would he be so impatient in bed?
“What?” you mumbled.
“Listen. I won’t repeat myself.”
“I was listening.”
“Liar.”
“I was!” you insisted, biting your lip as he leaned closer.
“What was I saying? he asked, crossing his arms.
“Pay attention?”
Your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your shirt, twisting fabric like it could anchor your nerves. You’d barely stepped off the island, still tasting sea salt and adrenaline. Law had ordered you earlier to stay incognito, so your signature boilersuit was tucked away for now.
“Before that.”
You had no idea what came before—you were too busy imagining his hands everywhere, drawing lines over your skin the way his fingers traced that map before, and the thought made your chest tighten with anticipation.
“Fine. I wasn’t listening,” you admitted, dragging your gaze away from his smirk.
“Of course you weren’t,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m gonna repeat it later to the whole crew. You better listen carefully then.”
“Aye, aye, Captain,” you said, mock-saluting him.
He just rolled his eyes at you. Nothing unusual. You shifted a few documents out of the way and plopped down on the desk, swinging your feet lazily. He stared at you, exasperation written all over his face.
You waited for the usual lecture: “Don’t move my documents,” “The desk is not for sitting,” or “You’re disturbing me.”
But nothing like that came.
“Are you okay?”
“Do you still want more with me?”
You both blurted it out at the same time, voices colliding in the quiet room.
“I’m fine,” he answered too quickly, eyes darting to your lips before he forced them up to meet your own.
“Um… yeah,” you squeaked, your hands fumbling with the edge of the desk, knocking a pen to the floor.
Again, you’d said it at the same time.
His lips twitched into a knowing smirk, and you felt the heat rise through your chest, your body suddenly too aware of him.
“That’s what you were thinking about, huh?” you asked, teasing, your tone carefully smoothed to hide the heat rising in your chest.
“Like you weren’t,” he shot back immediately, a sly grin spreading across his face.
He must have seen a shock on your face.
“I saw you staring at my hands,” he said, stepping slightly closer. “I doubt they’ve ever caught your attention that much before.”
Damn it. He truly was too perceptive, too intelligent for his own good.
He tilted his head, studying you the way he always did when he’d figured something out long before you wanted him to.
“Am I wrong?”
You blinked, caught off guard by how serious he suddenly sounded. “Uh… maybe?” you said, immediately wincing at how unsure it came out. “I mean—probably. I wasn’t… thinking.”
“So—”
“Anyway—”
You both froze. Then he coughed. You laughed a little too loudly.
“Yeah,” you said finally, awkwardly clearing your throat. “This is… weird.”
“Very,” he admitted, staring intently at the floor like it might offer an escape.
“Should we just get it out of our system?” you blurted.
“Get… what out of our system?”
You immediately regretted every life choice that had led to this moment.
“Nothing! I mean—just—the weirdness. You know? The… uh, tension.”
His brow furrowed. “Tension?”
You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Forget I said anything. Please.”
But when you peeked through your fingers, he was staring at you with that same bewildered expression, like he wasn’t sure whether to laugh or actually answer.
“I mean,” he started, “you’re not wrong. It’s weird.”
“That’s one word for it,” you muttered, forcing a shaky laugh.
“So, uh… how exactly do we ‘get it out of our system’?”
You hesitated. “I…” The words got stuck somewhere between your throat and your courage, but your gaze betrayed you.
Law caught on quickly—of course he did.
“If you’re that interested in my fingers,” he said with infuriating calm, “I can try to put them to better use.”
That bastard. He was teasing you like his ears weren’t turning a very obvious shade of pink.
“Oh, shut up,” you muttered.
He tilted his head, pretending innocence. “So you don’t want it anymore?”
“I do,” you admitted quickly, then grimaced. “It’s just… uh, weirder than I thought it would be.”
“Definitely weird.”
You rolled your eyes, “You’re terrible at reassurance, you know that?”
“And yet you’re still sitting here,” he said, crossing his arms, and then immediately looking like he regretted saying it.
“Wow. Way to sound confident and awkward at the same time. Impressive.”
He groaned quietly. “You make it impossible to sound cool, you know that?”
He let out a quiet laugh—one not many ever had the privilege to hear—and stepped closer, careful but sure. His face hovered just inches from yours, breath mingling with your own.
“So… should we?”
You hesitated, heart thudding. “I—yeah. Sure.”
“Oh. Okay.” He rubbed the back of his neck, exhaling a sharp little breath and letting his fingers brush the edge of the table—anything to keep them busy. “Uh, maybe we should, you know, move… somewhere else?”
“Right,” you said quickly, hopping off the desk. You took a few steps before realizing something and freezing mid-stride. “Wait. Should I—uh—freshen up or something?”
He frowned. “Freshen up?”
You waved your hands, flustered. “I mean, I am clean. I just thought maybe… I don’t know, should I?”
“You’re overthinking.”
“Probably,” you muttered, cheeks burning. “Sorry, I just—I don’t want this to be… weird.”
He smiled faintly. “Too late.”
That made you snort, half mortified, half amused. “We’re really not making this romantic, are we?”
He shrugged, fingers brushing the edge of the table before straightening, like he had to remind himself to look casual.
“I could light a candle if you want.”
“Oh, shut up.”
“Go on. Take a minute. I’ll, uh… tidy up here.”
His voice stayed steady, but you caught the little hitch in his shoulder, the way his foot tapped once before he forced it still.
“Yeah,” you said, already backing toward the door. “Sure. See you in… a minute, I guess.”
When you finally mustered the courage to step into Law’s quarters, the space seemed to press in on you—walls crowded with maps, neatly stacked medical supplies, a handful of scattered books, and his beloved comics. He was bent over, draping a towel across the neatly made bed with meticulous care, his blue coat slung over the back of the chair nearby.
He looked up when you stepped in. “That was fast.”
You leaned against the doorway, one hand gripping the frame.
“Were you timing me?”
He coughed. “No. Just—uh—didn’t expect you back yet.”
You folded your arms, half teasing, half trying to hide how nervous you felt. “What, were you planning an escape route?”
“Maybe,” he said, lips twitching. “Can’t be too careful around you.”
“Right. Um… should I lay down?” you asked, your voice a little shaky.
“Yeah,” he said simply.
So you did. On your back, arms awkwardly by your sides, wondering what on earth to do with yourself. Your thoughts were all over the place, and every small noise seemed amplified in the quiet room.
Law started to move toward you, and you stiffened, heart picking up speed. Then, suddenly, like he’d been struck by lightning, he jumped back off the bed and left the room.
That… was confusing.
Moments later, he returned, looking slightly sheepish.
“What was that?”
“Um… I wanted to wash my hands and… pee, just in case,” he muttered, scratching the back of his neck.
“Right,” you said, fighting a laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of it all.
He sank onto the bed next to you, sitting stiffly, shoulders tense. His hands twitched toward you, then jerked back as if they had a mind of their own.
“Do you… want to kiss too?” he asked.
You blinked, feeling your pulse spike. “Yeah. I mean… we should do it properly, right?” you offered, fumbling over the words, heart hammering louder than the hum of the engines. Your fingers itched to reach for him, to bridge that space you were both hovering over.
“Right. Right,” he said, nodding quickly, like he was trying to convince himself as much as you.
And then… without really thinking, you leaned in, grabbed him, and kissed him.
He froze for a split second, sharp intake of breath brushing against your lips, and panic flared inside you.
But then he melted into it, awkward and unsure, yet just as desperate to close the gap between the two of you. Your arms tangled clumsily, his hands hovered nervously before settling tentatively on your waist, and somehow it all felt exactly… right.
When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathing a little too fast, cheeks flushed, eyes wide.
You chuckled, bumping your shoulder lightly against his. “Well, I guess that’s… a start?”
He rolled his eyes and pulled you in for another kiss. This one far more heated. One hand came up to cup your cheek, his calloused fingers brushing against your skin with a tenderness that you did not expect from him. The other hand stayed on your waist, his palm splaying across your lower back to pull you closer, to eliminate any remaining distance between your bodies. He angled his head, deepening the kiss. His tongue swept across your lower lip, seeking entrance. And as your lips parted, he delved inside, his tongue tangling with yours.
Law's hand slid down to the hem of your shirt, his fingers slipping beneath the fabric to skim along your waist. While yours moved to rest on his chest, grabbing his collar to pull him even closer.
“Wow,” you breathed when you parted, a small smile on your lips.
“Yeah,” Law agreed, a grin spreading across his face, his yellow eyes shining with something akin to wonder. Something that you only had seen after your first kiss. “That was…nice.”
You giggled, “Nice? That's all you've got?” you teased lightly.
“Well, it was really nice,” he amended with a sigh and an eye-roll. “Is that statement more to your liking?”
“Given how rarely you give out compliments, I will take it.”
You waited for a comeback, for some sarcastic or even a mean reply, but instead he asked:
“Do you want me to compliment you during?”
You pondered the question for a moment. It would be nice to be praised—just a little. But this was Law. Affection didn’t come easily to him, and he was just as inexperienced as you were. You didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable.
“It would be nice,” you said honestly. “But don’t force anything.”
“Okay.”
Silence fell again.
“You’re pretty,” he mumbled finally. His face twisted almost immediately, like he regretted how awkward it sounded.
“Yeah, ’cause that didn’t sound forced at all,” you remarked.
“Fine. I’ll just shut up.”
“Impossible for you.”
“I meant it, though.”
He lifted his hands, gently tilting your chin so you had no choice but to meet his gaze.
“You are pretty,” he said again, firmer this time. “It’s time you believed it.”
You hadn’t even told him about your insecurities—how you never felt particularly attractive in that Heart Pirates boilersuit, always messy from long days, fights, or medical emergencies. You rarely had time to care about appearances.
But it didn’t matter now, because in Law’s eyes you could see he meant every word. He wouldn’t lie to you. He was blunt. Sometimes painfully so, but you’d always appreciated that about him.
“And you’re handsome,” you murmured, a small smile tugging at your lips, “even with those eyebags.”
He let out a quiet huff of amusement, catching your wrist and bringing it to his lips.
“Do you want to keep going?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
He kissed your hand, then your lips again. You felt more confident now, bold enough to gently turn him so he was lying on his back as you straddled him. He made a small noise of surprise but quickly recovered, pulling you closer.
Your fingers tangled in his dark hair, playing with the strands, while his hands found your waist again. It felt like you’d been kissing for hours, and when you felt something pressing against you this time, you moved instinctively, and neither of you stopped this time.
Law’s hands slipped beneath your shirt, rough fingertips tracing fire along your skin. You broke the kiss just long enough to pull the shirt over your head, surprising even yourself with that act of confidence.
His eyes immediately darted to your chest, his expression dazed like you’d never seen before. It might have been the only time you’d seen his overworked mind go completely blank. His eyes were wild, his lips swollen from kissing, hair disheveled from your hands.
You wondered briefly how you must look to him, but the thought vanished as soon as Law’s hands slid higher, stopping just beneath the edge of your bra.
You nodded, feeling a nervous flutter in your chest as his hands slipped around to the back of your bra. You held your breath… and nothing happened.
Law was fumbling with the clasp, his ears getting more pink every second he couldn't open it.
“I’m gonna rip it,” he muttered under his breath.
You couldn’t help but laugh, a little bewildered at how cute you found it.
“Just let me help, so you’ll know for the future.”
You reached back, placing your hands over his, guiding his fingers to the right spot. The clasp came undone easily, and you continued to guide Law’s hands until he slid the bra off completely.
You felt exposed now. Really exposed, and Law was just lying there staring.
“Are you gonna, like, say or do something?” you asked, half teasing, half self-conscious.
That seemed to snap him out of his trance. And yet he hesitated.
“Do you want to stop?” you asked quietly.
“Um—no. No.”
He sat up, shifting you slightly so you were still straddling him, your faces now only inches apart. Then he kissed you, each movement carrying an intensity that made your pulse stutter. When his lips left yours, they found the curve of your neck, placing delicate kisses all over your neck.
“Does it feel good?” he murmured against your skin.
“Mhm,” you managed, too focused on how good it actually did feel to form real words.
Law's hand hovered near your breast, his fingers trembling slightly. Once again you placed your hand over his and directed it to cup your breast fully. You gasped as his fingers sank into that soft flesh, your nipple hardening beneath his palm.
“That feels really good,” you breathed out, arching your back slightly to press yourself more firmly into his touch.
Law let out a low groan, his thumb and forefinger coming up to pinch and roll your nipple between them. He leaned in, his lips finding the sensitive skin of your neck and placing open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat.
You let out a moan, your fingers digging into the firm muscle of Law's chest. You could feel his heart pounding beneath your palm, matching the rhythm of your own racing pulse.
Slowly, giving you time to push him away if you felt like it, he leaned down to place a soft kiss on the top of one breast, his lips trailing lower until he reached the hardened peak. He swirled his tongue around the sensitive nub, teasing and tasting, before drawing it into his mouth to suck gently.
You gasped, fingers tangling in Law's shirt. “Laaw,” you panted out, your hips writhing against his own. You could feel the heat building between your legs, could sense the ache growing more insistent with each passing second.
He straightened up to look at you.
“Is that any good?”
“Yeah,” you could feel the heat all over your body, and he still needed to ask. “It’s good.”
“Good. Tell me if I do something you won't like.”
You could only nod, too overwhelmed by sensation to form words. You watched, panting softly, as Law ducked his head and lavished the same attention on your other breast. His tongue swirled and teased, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips. At the same time, his hand slid down your stomach, fingers toying with the waistband of your jeans.
“Uh… can I… can I take these off?” he asked hesitantly. His cheeks were flushed a light pink. You blinked, momentarily startled out of lustful haze.
“Y-yeah, of course,” you replied, moving from him to lay down on your back and lifting your hips slightly to assist him.
Law struggled with the button for a moment longer before finally getting it undone, a small sigh of relief escaping his lips. He slid your jeans down your legs, his hands brushing against the skin as he went. You wiggled out of them, kicking them off to the side of the bed.
“Now, you know, uhm… I think I need to, uh…” Law fumbled for the right words, glancing nervously at the remaining article of clothing separating you. His hands hovered near the waistband of your panties, not quite touching but close enough for you to feel the warmth radiating from his fingertips.
A wave of shyness washed over you at his awkwardness.
The fearsome “Surgeon of Death” title didn’t suit him at all right now—not with his cheeks flushed pink and his usually sharp expression softened completely.
You smiled, letting your fingers brush against his before guiding his hand to rest on your hip.
“It’s okay,” you whispered, breath catching slightly. “You can take them off. I want you to.”
Slowly, he began to tug your underwear down, his gaze locked with yours, watching for any sign of hesitation or discomfort. But there was none.
For a moment, he simply stared, taking in the sight of you lying there, naked and wanting. Then, he reached out to touch, his tattooed fingers trailing up your inner thigh, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.
“Wait,” you murmured as you shifted onto your knees.
He jumped like he’d been burned.
“No, no,” you responded quickly, reaching out before he could pull away. “It’s okay. I just—” The rest of the sentence tangled on your tongue.
Your fingers found the collar of his shirt and fisted the fabric, drawing him down to you. The hesitation melted the moment your lips met. You kissed him, his breath catching in your mouth.
Your hands trembled as they worked their way down his chest, clumsy on the buttons that suddenly felt impossible. He let out a soft, shaky laugh that only made you more determined. One by one, the buttons gave way under your touch until the shirt finally slipped free, falling away between you and revealing all of his tattoos.
“That’s more fair,” you murmured into his lips.
You took a moment to admire the sight of his muscular chest, the tattoos that covered his skin, the way his abs clenched as he breathed.
“Lie down,” he said, trying for stern and confident, but you caught the flicker of uncertainty in his voice. The corner of your mouth lifted; you saw right through him. So instead of teasing, you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek before lying back as he’d asked.
He climbed in after you, the mattress dipping under his weight as he hovered over you, one hand braced beside your head while the other rested on your stomach.
You swallowed nervously. “Sure… you want more?”
“Yes,” he said. “Do you?”
“Yes.”
“Alright then.”
“Alright.”
“Okay… do you think you’re… sufficiently aroused?”
“Law!” You froze, mortified.
“What? It’s completely normal to ask. For any sexual activity to be comfortable and pleasurable, the female body needs sufficient lubrication.” He stated it plainly, as if he were reading a medical textbook aloud. Like he studied for all of this. Although knowing him, he most likely did.
“I… I don’t need a lecture,” you stammered.
“I’m not lecturing,” he replied, still blunt. “I’m just… ensuring the conditions are optimal. It’s a physiological necessity. Vaginal tissues require moisture to prevent discomfort. Without it, friction can cause pain or irritation…”
“Stop. Just stop.” You groaned, hiding your face in your hands. “I think we're both pretty… aroused.” You squirmed slightly underneath him, hyperaware of the slickness between your thighs, the way your body ached for his touch.
“Right.”
“So, um, what do we do now?” you asked, glancing up at him with wide, uncertain eyes.
“Continue?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
And like that, he was back to kissing you. His tongue delved into your mouth, exploring every inch of you as his hands roamed your bare skin. He cupped your breasts, squeezing tenderly as he ground his hips against yours. You could feel his hardness through his remaining clothes, hot and insistent against your core. A moan escaped your lips as you arched up to meet him, your body craving more of his touch. Law's breath grew ragged as he broke the kiss.
“Ready for more?” he asked, skimming his fingers along your thighs.
“Yes,” you breathed out, your voice trembling slightly with anticipation and nerves. “I'm ready for more.”
Emboldened by your answer, Law's hand inched higher, his fingertips grazing the sensitive skin at the apex of your thighs. You let out a little gasp, and your hips uncontrollably jerked up to feel more of his touch.
Law's eyes stayed firmly on your face before he leaned down to capture your lips in another searing kiss.
As he kissed you deeply, his fingers found your folds, stroking along them teasingly. He groaned into your mouth as he felt how wet you already were, his own arousal throbbing almost painfully against your hip.
He circled your clit awkwardly, trying to find the right rhythm. “Is this… am I doing this right?” he asked, seeking your approval as he continued to touch you.
You assisted Law's hand, showing him how to circle and press on your sensitive clit with the pad of his thumb. He followed your lead, his touch still a bit clumsy but eager to please you. You couldn't help but let out a soft moan of encouragement as sparks of pleasure shot through you.
“Like this?” Law asked, his voice strained.
His other hand slid up your side, cupping the weight of your breast, teasing your nipple between his fingers. He rolled and pinched the hardened peak, sending jolts of sensation straight to your core. You leaned into his touch, a louder moan escaping your lips as your hips bucked up against his hand. You raised your hand to cover your mouth.
“Don't be shy,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “I like hearing you. It… it turns me on, knowing I'm making you feel good.” To prove his point, he pressed his hips more firmly against yours, letting you feel the evidence.
You let your hand fall away from your mouth, another sound escaping your lips as Law's fingers continued their ministrations. He took it as encouragement, his touch growing bolder, more confident.
You could feel the tension building in your body, your core tightening as Law's fingers worked their magic. Your breathing grew heavier, your chest heaving with each ragged inhale. Soft whimpers and moans spilled from your lips, growing louder and more frequent as the pleasure mounted.
“Law,” you gasped out, your voice strained with impending release. “I'm… I'm getting close.” Your hips undulated against his hand, seeking more of that delicious friction.
And he sped it up.
“No, no,” you mumbled.
He withdrew his hand immediately.
“What’s wrong?”
“You… you don’t change it when it’s good,” you admitted
“I wanted to make it better,” he said, tilting his head as if considering your words carefully.
“I know,” you murmured, your cheeks warming.
He leaned a little closer. “Can I try again?”
“Yeah?” you said, hesitant but curious, biting your lip.
His fingers once again resumed their precious position touching you just like you showed him you liked. This time, though, the moment you started moaning and writhing, he didn't change anything. He was watching you intently, mouth agape, like he studied every microexpression on your face.
“Fuck, just like that,” you mumbled.
Law's fingers continued their steady rhythm, following the exact motions you had shown him. He watched, enraptured, as pleasure played across your face, your cheeks flushed, and your eyes fluttered shut. Each breathy sigh and shuddering gasp spurred him on.
With a sharp cry of ecstasy, you came undone beneath his touch. Your body convulsed, back arching off the bed as waves of pure fulfillment crashed over you.
He didn't let up, continuing to stroke and caress your sensitive flesh, drawing out your pleasure until you were a boneless mess beneath him. Only then did he ease back, giving you space to collect yourself. You lay there, chest rising and falling too fast, trying to remember how to breathe.
He watched you with that tiny, annoyingly triumphant smirk like he just won some battle.
“Don’t be so smug,” you managed to mumble, though the words came out weak and unconvincing.
He brushed a few strands of hair from your sweat-dampened forehead, his fingers far gentler than his reputation ever suggested.
“Feel okay?” he asked quietly.
You swallowed, still trying to settle your heartbeat. “…Yeah. I’m good.”
“Good,” he murmured, exhaling a relieved sigh. “Was it what you expected?”
You let out a short, breathy laugh. “In a way? Honestly… kind of surprisingly better.”
He raised a brow. “Surprisingly?”
“Well, you’re inexperienced too,” you blurted before your brain could stop you.
His face twitched, caught somewhere between offense and fluster, the shadow of a frown tugging at his brow.
“Was I bad?”
“No! No, you were—” you waved your hands uselessly, “you were good. Really good.”
The silence that followed was… awkward.
He cleared his throat. “Okay. That’s enough for today.”
“What? But I thought…”
He tilted his head. “Thought what?”
“That we were gonna… you know. Go all the way?”
“Isn’t it better to learn one thing at a time?” he countered, that maddeningly reasonable tone slipping back into place.
Your stomach did a strange little flip.
One thing at a time… does that mean… more times?
And why did he suddenly look almost—shy? Since when had Law ever been shy? Awkward, sure. Flustered, apparently yes. But shy? That was new, and somehow it made your chest tighten.
“…Yeah. Sure,” you said, forcing your voice into casual territory, like you were talking about something entirely ordinary.
“Good.” He shifted to move away, but you reached out on instinct and caught his wrist.
He paused. “… Hmm?”
“You don’t wanna…?”
Your voice cracked, your confidence imploding on the spot.
“What?” he asked, eyes narrowing slightly. “Spell it out. I just saw you orgasm; no need to get embarrassed now.”
There it was—that captain's edge. Firm. Direct.
You felt your face heat. “Don’t you want to… uh… finish too?”
He stiffened. “I—um—” He cleared his throat, trying to gather himself. “We don’t have to.”
“But I want to,” you whispered.
“Oh.” His eyes darted away.
“Yeah,” you pressed on, heart hammering in your chest. “I want to learn how to make you feel good too.”
It was only fair after he made sure you felt good. Part of you longed to see his carefully guarded composure falter, even just a little, to watch him finally be at ease, maybe even completely relaxed for once. And you wanted to be the first to do it.
He hesitated. “Maybe… another time.”
“Why?” you asked before you could stop yourself.
“One lesson at a time,” he repeated carefully. “Right?”
You stared at him. He really planned to draw this out. You had thought it would be just one night, a fleeting thing, but Law treated it with the same meticulous intensity he applied to every mission. There was a thrill in knowing this wasn’t over, that there would be more… more of him, more of this—more than you dared imagine, and yet, you couldn’t wait.
Summary: For two years, you trained alongside Trafalgar Law and the Heart Pirates, always aware that your stay was temporary. However, two month before your departure, Law approached you with a request: he wanted you to convince your captain, Straw Hat Luffy, to form an alliance to take down Donquixote Doflamingo. A request that totally wasn't a excuse to spend more time with you. As you prepared to part ways, Law made a final, unexpected request, that you return to his crew once everything is over. That you'd officially become a heart pirate permanently. You left him with a tentative promise to consider it, provided you both survived the coming storm. Now, a month has passed since you last seen Law and a week since you rejoined the Straw Hats. With the alliance forged and Law currently aboard the Thousand Sunny, the journey toward Dressrosa is underway. Yet, as Law observes the chaotic, unbreakable bond you share with your true crew, he is beginning to realize just how slim his chances of winning you back to his crew actually are.
Trafalgar Law x gn!reader
Word count: 7,543
Part 1
A/N: OK WOW I GET IT! You all are lucky I am currently out of a job and have nothing better to do than write and I already had a good part of this written. But seriously thank you all for all the attention part one of this has gotten! And thank you all who commented encouraging me to write this part! I hope you all like this part! Happy good Friday or Easter or whatever holiday it is here your gift.
Side note I tried to keep things gender neutral but I do have some slight flirty and protective Sanji. It is very slight tho.
You sat next to Law on the bench of the Thousand Sunny, a gigantic smile plastered across your face as your crew surrounded him with an endless barrage of questions. Luffy sat on the other side of the table with a blissfully ignorant grin, completely unbothered by the chaos erupting around him.
The first part of the plan had been a success—albeit with considerably more complications than Law would have preferred. But it had worked. Luffy had happily agreed to the alliance. Caesar had been properly kidnapped. And now you were on your way to Dressrosa.
Everything was falling into place, and you couldn't resist savoring Law's growing irritation.
He was explaining something about his strategy, something important, no doubt, when his eye began twitching. The telltale pinch appeared between his brows, deepening with each question your crew threw at him. You bit the inside of your cheek to suppress your laughter, but it bubbled up anyway.
Law's head snapped toward you at the noise in annoyance. "Y/N, did you not inform them of anything?"
You smiled, that particular smile that said you'd done exactly what he suspected. "No. That would ruin the surprise.”
The entire crew erupted in shouts of outrage and confusion, and suddenly all eyes shifted to you instead of your much-harassed ally captain.
Sanji stepped forward first, his expression hardening slightly. "Hold on. You know this creep?"
You shrugged with exaggerated casualness. "Well, duh. I joined his crew for the two years we were separated."
More shocked shouts tang through the air, and you snickered at the chorus of "What?!"
"I thought you were hanging out with that polar bear guy?" Usopp asked, his brow furrowed as he tried to place the memory. "At Sabaody? Didn't he help you carry your treasure from that island?"
"That would be Bepo," you confirmed.
"My first mate," Law added with a gruff tone that somehow managed to sound both annoyed and proud.
"Right, I thought you would've recognized him from Traffy's wanted poster. And he was at Sabaody with Traffy."
Law's nose twitched involuntarily. "I told you to stop calling me that."
You grabbed your bottom eyelids and pulled it down while sticking your tongue out at him, "That deal was only for when you were my captain."
Luffy jumped up suddenly, apparently catching onto the implication. "Hey—wait! I thought I was your captain!"
You laughed, the sound bright and unbothered. "Yes, Luffy. You'll always be my captain first."
Law's eye twitched slightly at that.
Sanji's protective instinct flared to life immediately, his eyes narrowing as he looked between you and the grumpy pirate captain. "So for the past two years you've been running around with another crew? With this creep?" His voice carried an edge of genuine concern beneath the aggression. "His crew is all men. Tell me they didn't—"
"Chill, Sanji," you interrupted. "I didn't join any public fights so the Marines wouldn't find out. And the Heart Pirates aren't pervs. Unlike you.” You muttered the last part under your breath.
Sanji still glared at Law, and Law matched the intensity with an equally protective glare of his own.
Zoro laughed from his corner, breaking the tension slightly. "So is this the bozo who taught you that crappy swordsman form?"
“Crappy?” Law repeated with a grumble as his hand moved to his sword with obvious irritation, but you quickly grabbed his arm. You felt him relax under your touch—muscle memory from two years of you being the only one who could talk him down from unnecessary conflict.
"So this plan of Traffy's," Robin said thoughtfully, "you support it entirely?"
"It's more my plan than his at this point," you said with a smirk.
Law's nose twitched again, and an irritated rumble escaped his throat as he shot you a glare. The glare said we planned this together, but you just smiled innocently back at him.
Robin nodded, clearly pleased by the answer in a way that went deeper than your words. "That's reassuring."
Nami crossed her arms, a stubborn set to her jaw. "Well, if Y/N vouches for him, then I'm on board."
"Are you kidding me?!" Usopp threw his hands up at Nami, clearly exasperated. "He wants us to fight a Warlord! That's insane! And now you're on board just because Y/N likes him?"
"Actually, the final target is Kaido," Law corrected flatly.
Usopp's hands dropped. His eyes went wide. Very, very wide. "Kaido. The King of the Beasts."
"What?!" The shout came from multiple crew members simultaneously.
"Okay, I take it back," Nami said immediately, her eyes equally wide as she waved her hands in x positions, "I'm not on board. Y/N has clearly lost their mind. That creep must have manipulated them somehow!"
Law's teeth audibly ground together at the accusation, a low growl rumbling in his chest that would have been threatening if it hadn't been so defensive over the accusation.
Luffy, oblivious to the tension, started slapping Law on the back with his characteristic enthusiasm. "Aw, come on, guys! Traffy ain't bad! He's a friend! And we're gonna kick some butt together."
You leaned back, deciding the moment had come to deploy the heavy artillery. "You all should be a little kinder to him," you said carefully, watching brows pinch in confusion. "He's the only reason Luffy is alive right now."
The words hit like a punch. The crew stilled.
Luffy grinned wider, apparently finding this a perfect moment to demonstrate. "Yeah! Traffy was the one who gave me this cool scar." He puffed out his chest, showing the giant X scar—the wound that should have killed him, the one Law had sutured back together with impossible precision.
The crew froze, staring at the scar, then back at Law, then at you. Something shifted in their expressions; recognition, maybe, of just how much this captain had done to keep Luffy alive.
Usopp, Nami, and Chopper huddled together, muttering to each other in tones too low to hear. After a moment, Usopp turned back around and clapped his hands together. "Okay. We're in."
You let out a sharp laugh. "As if that was going to change anything."
The rest of the crew nodded in agreement, and Sanji let out a breath of smoke. "You all should know better than to think once Luffy decides on something there's any turning back." He gestured toward the stairs. "Now, who wants lunch?"
Everyone jumped up in excitement, rushing toward the kitchen with the kind of energy that only the promise of Sanji's cooking could inspire.
Law's jaw dropped in absolute horror. "But we haven't finished discussing the plan.”
You laughed at his shocked expression, the sound bright enough to cut through the noise of the departing crew.
"Why did you let me go through with this?" he grumbled, leaning slightly closer. "You could have warned me they'd be this chaotic then I would never done this stupid alliance."
"It was your idea to form the alliance," you shrugged, though your smile held a knowing look. "I just supported it. Besides, I did warn you about how they are. You just didn't listen."
He frowned slightly. "I thought they would at least be sensible. Like you."
You shoved your shoulder into his gently, feeling the familiar warmth of being close to him after a month apart. "Aw, that sounded like a compliment, Traffy."
His lips twitched upward, almost forming a smile before he caught himself and forced his expression back into disapproval. "Will you stop calling me that?"
"Nope," you said cheerfully. "You need to get used to it because Luffy isn't going to stop, and neither is the rest of this crew."
He hung his head, defeated. "Only you would come from this insufferable crew."
You got up, grabbing his arm and pulling him toward the stairs. "You'll learn to love them. Now let's go eat. You're going to love Sanji's cooking."
Law allowed himself to be dragged along as you held him by the elbow.
You opened the kitchen door with a large smile, and the crew immediately noticed the contrast between your obvious joy and Law's forced pout. Though Law couldn't quite hide the slight smirk he was fighting, the one that crept up when he thought no one was looking.
It had been a month since he'd last seen you. A month of your infectious energy being absent from his life. He'd missed it more than he wanted to admit.
You shoved Law onto the bench next to Robin before bouncing off toward Sanji.
Robin gave Law a knowing smirk as he watched you move with that particular lightness.
"Y/N is sure happy to see you," Robin observed quietly.
"Well, It's been over a month since we saw each other." Law replied, though his eyes never left you as you enthusiastically told something to Sanji. The cook's expression softened as he listened, and he nodded, already mentally adjusting his cooking plans.
You bounced back, sliding onto the bench beside Law—perhaps a touch closer than strictly necessary. "I told Sanji about your gluten allergy, so you don't have to worry about that."
"Thanks, Y/N," he said, and the warmth in his voice was genuine.
"So how did you two meet anyway?" Usopp asked, his tone carrying a slightly sharper edge than usual.
You launched into the story; the island inside the Calm Belt, the overly kind villagers, the Marines trying to enslave them for gold. As you spoke, Law watched the crew's reactions shift. When you got to the part about putting on a show with berries and smoke to scare the Marines away, he saw Luffy's eyes light up with admiration.
"That's a very specific lie," Robin noted, tilting her head with interest.
Your breath hitched—just slightly, just enough for Law to notice. He'd spent two years learning to read the micro-expressions of your tells. "Yeah, well, it was all I could think of and it worked," you recovered smoothly. Then you pointed at Law. "This guy, however, heard the rumors of a plague and decided to lend his aid as a doctor."
Chopper sat up immediately, his eyes sparkling with childish admiration. "That's very kind of you!"
Law actually pouted at the compliment. "But there wasn't a plague. Just Y/N running amuck."
The crew laughed, but Sanji's gaze lingered on Law with that protective scrutiny. Law met it head-on, refusing to look away.
"So you just thought, 'Hey, let me join the surgeon of death and not think about how someone gets a moniker like that'?" Usopp asked, clearly still suspicious.
Law smirked dangerously. "If you'd like, I can show you how I earned that title." He held his hand up threateningly, and a Room flickered to life around his fingers.
Usopp yelped and jumped backward.
"He's joking," you insisted quickly, grabbing Law's wrist and lowering his hand. You felt him relax at your touch, the Room dissipating immediately.
But Law kept a playful glare on the sniper. "Sure. Joking," he said sarcastically, the corner of his mouth twitching with amusement he was barely suppressing.
Usopp yipped and ran to Luffy's side, who was busy laughing at the whole exchange. "You're a funny guy, Traffy."
Law scowled deeply. "That is not my name."
Luffy just continued laughing, completely unbothered by the correction.
Sanji appeared moments later with a large tray of sandwiches, setting it in the center of the table before placing a special plate in front of Law, perfectly prepared rice balls with none of the ingredients he couldn't have. Law gave a small nod of appreciation, but Sanji just scoffed looking at the small distance between you and him.
The crew erupted into chaos as they dived for food, each person trying to grab as much as possible before Luffy, the human vacuum, consumed everything. Law quickly pulled his plate away from the melee as you leaned over him, reaching for your own food.
Law looked in absolute horror at Luffy, who was shoving food into his mouth like a machine with no off switch. He leaned toward you, lowering his voice so only you could hear. "This is the captain you owe everything to?"
You smiled fondly, watching Luffy with obvious affection. "Yup."
Law sighed in disappointment. This wild child with no concept of structure or order. This man with rubber powers and the attention span of a goldfish. This was who you preferred. This was who you'd chosen.
You shoved him slightly, reading the disappointment in his expression. "Just wait. You'll see why soon enough."
Law looked around the table at the chaotic collection of misfits; the giant cyborg with neon blue hair, the literal skeleton who somehow still ate, the childish captain with his vast dreams, the cat burglar with the sharp eye for treasure, the stoic archaeologist with secrets in her gaze, the aggressive moss-head swordsman, the perverted chef with his protective streak, the raccoon doctor who was too innocent for this crew, and the guest samurai with his son.
Each of them carried a chaotic energy similar to yours but amplified to extremes he couldn't quite comprehend. While Law had grown—against his better judgment—to enjoy your energy, multiplying it by ten felt like standing in the eye of a hurricane.
The table quickly dissolved into laughter and overlapping conversations as the crew shared stories from the two years they'd been apart. They recounted their adventures with the kind of easy affection that came from genuine trust and love. And as the conversation continued, Law began to understand something he'd been resisting.
Your smile was brighter here. Your laughter came easier. Your energy matched theirs in a way that it never quite matched with his crew, no matter how hard you'd tried.
Law tried to ignore the ping of jealousy in his chest as he slouched in his seat, eating quietly, watching you be exactly where you belonged.
"Y/N?" Robin's voice cut through the noise, and your head snapped toward her with interest. "Do you and Traffy happen to be related?"
You froze mid-bite, and Law's eyes went wide.
"What? No," you said, recovering quickly. "Why would you think that?"
Robin gestured between you both, and Law realized with a sinking feeling that you were holding nearly identical poses, both carefully eating with your right hands, both leaning back slightly at the same angle.
"I've noticed quite a few similar mannerisms between the two of you. You also have similar accents, similar skin tones, and some of the same slang."
You slowly lowered your sandwich and straightened your form, creating deliberate distance from the pose. "No, Robin. We're not related," you said firmly, with no room for argument.
"Then do you think you're from the same island?" Robin pressed gently.
You put on a relaxed expression that didn't quite reach your eyes. "I mean, we're both from the North Blue."
"You're from the North Blue?" Sanji perked up, processing this new information. "Really?"
Robin tilted her head thoughtfully. "That's right. You're from the North Blue too, aren't you, Sanji?"
"I thought you were from the East," Sanji said, his brow furrowing as he tried to place the pieces.
"I moved to the East when I was eighteen." you said, shrugging as if it was inconsequential. But Law could see the tension in your shoulders, the way your jaw clenched slightly.
"Anyway, you don't seem to share mannerisms with Sanji, but you do with Trafalgar," Robin continued, her tone curious rather than accusatory. "I'm not judging just curious. Similar background, perhaps? Same region, at least?"
You slammed your hand on the table "Just drop it, Robin," you said, your voice sharper than you'd intended. Shame flushed across your face as everyone looked at you. "Sorry. I just... I don't want to talk about this."
Law felt something twist in his chest watching you retreat into yourself.
"Wait, Y/N," he called, but you were already standing, already moving away from the table.
"What was that about?" Luffy asked, his expression confused in that innocent way only he could manage.
Law sighed heavily, hanging his head before making a decision. "Yes, we're from the same island," he admitted quietly. The words felt heavy, weighted with all the history they carried.
All brows raised. The crew knew little of your past beyond finding you in the East Blue, performing magic shows and disappearing into the crowd. They knew you were skilled at sleight of hand and tricks, that you could vanish into thin air. But they didn't know why. Never cared to ask.
"What island is that?" Brook asked with genuine curiosity.
Law stood up slowly, "I'm not going to discuss Y/N's past without their permission," he said firmly. "But our home doesn't have the best memories. If they want to tell you, they will."
He walked toward the door without another word.
"That was odd," Zoro commented, and the others nodded in agreement.
"Who cares what island they're from," Luffy said through a mouthful of food. "They're with us now."
Sanji nodded, understanding in his eyes. "Agreed.” He knows what it's like to not want to share your past, they all do.
The rest of the crew also nodded, the past never mattered to them, all that matters is the future.
They all turned back to their meals, the moment already fading in the way that only happened with people who truly accepted each other.
Law stepped out into the salty air and scanned the deck. It took him only moments to spot you, you'd climbed up to the main mast, sitting on the beam where you could see the horizon stretching endlessly before you.
Law summoned a Room and blipped to stand beside you, appearing without warning.
You didn't startle. After two years, you'd learned to sense when he was using his powers. Your eyes opened slowly, taking in his presence with a tired expression.
"You alright?" he asked, lowering himself to sit beside you on the wooden beam. He was careful not to sit too close, giving you space while remaining present.
You nodded slowly. "Yeah. I'm fine. I just didn't realize how similar we are. Or at how much stronger my accent became after talking with someone from my home.”
Law snorted softly. "Neither did I, but I suppose it's obvious if you know what you're looking for."
"Robin is perceptive. Too perceptive, sometimes. But she means well." you said, "She's good about respecting boundaries once you set them, though. I just... I wasn't ready for those questions."
"I hope you don't mind that I told them we're from the same island," Law said carefully. "I didn't tell them it was Flevance."
You shrugged, "I don't mind. I trust them, and they should know. They will understand, especially Robin…” you curled inward pulling your knees to your chest, “she also lost her entire island when she was young due to a buster call.”
Law's eyes widened at the information glancing down at the kitchen door where she remained.
“I've been actually meaning to tell her just haven't found the right time. I don't know why I freaked out." You paused. "It just felt like acknowledging something I've been trying to avoid to admit to anyone else."
"That we're connected?" Law offered quietly.
"That there are only two of us left," you corrected, your voice barely above a whisper.
Law placed a hand on your shoulder, and you lifted your head to meet his gaze with a small smile. The touch was familiar, easy—two years of reaching out to each other had made it second nature.
"I'm glad to see you again," you said, your tone light and genuine.
And Law couldn't help but smile in return. "Same here."
He leaned back slightly and looking out at the vast sea stretching before you both. "How's the crew? My crew, I mean?"
You looked out at the water, your expression fond as you began to recount the past month. "They're great, we mostly kept out of trouble the past month just traveling to different islands while we waited, it's a lot easier to travel when your captain is a warlord.” You laughed slightly, “Bepo is beyond worried taking both Sachi and Penguin to keep him from turning back to punk hazard."
You looked longingly at the sea, "They should be at Zou by now. They dropped me off at Sabaody only last week. Since then I've fought a Army at Fishman Island, befriended a giant princess who holds the ancient weapon Poseidon, and..." You laughed, almost in disbelief at your own words. "Luffy declared war with Big Mom."
Law's eyes widened in alarm. "I'm sorry—did you say declare war with Big Mom?"
You chuckled at his reaction. "Yeah. Luffy ate all her candy and claimed Fishman Island as his territory."
Law grabbed his hair, looking genuinely distressed. "That idiot!"
"It'll be fine," you assured him. "Luffy will handle it."
"I don't understand how you trust him with anything," Law said, though the words lacked heat.
"It's best not to think too hard about it," you said with a smile. "He has a good heart and is insanely determined. When he sets his mind on something, there's no stopping him. It doesn't always make sense, but it works."
"You really love this crew," Law noted, and there was something vulnerable in his voice.
"I never made it a secret," you said gently. "I've been very vocal about how much I love them."
Law hung his head, and when he spoke, his voice was quiet and careful. "So my chances of getting you to officially join my crew are slim, then."
You sucked your teeth, listening to the sounds of your crew laughing as they left the kitchen below. The weight of the question settled over you both like fog.
"Law, this was always the plan," you said softly but refused to look at him. You could already hear this the disappointment in his breath.
"You knew this from the beginning."
You sighed and stood up, grabbing the rope that cascaded down to the ship.
You paused, your hand on the line, but still couldn't quite bring yourself to look at him. "I'm sorry, Law." And then, more quietly, "Looks like we have a new deadline."
Before he could respond, you descended quickly, using the rope with practiced ease.
Sanji greeted you at the bottom with the leftover sandwich you left behind, his expression warm and protective. You smiled brightly, accepting the sandwich.
The two of you descended into an easy conversation with new found knowledge of your shared history growing up in the North Blue, sharing stories that made him laugh.
Law watched from above, his hands gripping the mast. He watched the way Sanji's hand stayed on your shoulder. He watched the way you leaned into his presence. He watched the way your smile never wavered, bright and beautiful and belonging to someone else's crew.
Once again, his request for you to stay had been declined.
Law stayed on the mast long after you'd disappeared inside, watching the endless stretch of ocean and wondering how long it would take before he accepted that some things were never meant to be kept.
Night fell, and the Thousand Sunny transformed.
The crew had migrated to the deck, and the atmosphere had shifted from the structured chaos of dinner to something more genuinely celebratory. Lanterns had been strung up overhead, casting a warm glow across the grass that covered the deck. Someone had dragged out cushions and blankets. The energy was lighter, freer; the kind of ease that only came from people who truly belonged with each other.
Luffy bounded over to you with the brightest smile, his rubber arms already stretched out. "Y/N! Can you please do a magic show!"
You returned his smile without hesitation, your entire face lighting up. "Of course! Usopp made me some new smoke bombs and sparklers I want to try."
"Everyone! Y/N is doing a magic show!" Luffy announced at maximum volume, and the crew cheered at idea.
You disappeared for a moment while everyone settled comfortably on the grassy floor in a loose semi-circle in front the front wall. Law remained on the bench beneath the main mast, on the opposite side of the deck. It was a bit of a distance like his usual spot for your shows. He told himself it was the best vantage point. He told himself he preferred the distance.
The truth was more complicated.
With the crackle of sparklers and a cloud of smoke that seemed to come from nowhere, you appeared.
Everything about you had changed.
The top hat you'd somehow acquired sat perfectly on your head, cocked at an angle that screamed showmanship. Your outfit was a sparkly suit that clung to your form, all sequins and shine and theatrical flair. On the Polar Tang, you'd worn the same practical boiler suits as everyone else. Law had insisted on it. It kept you unremarkable to any Marines who might catch sight of the crew. Made sure no one suspected you to be a Straw Hat. It kept you safe.
But on the Thousand Sunny, you were allowed to be brilliant.
You snapped your fingers and a spotlight illuminated the deck, the rest of the world falling away into darkness beyond its radius. You stood in the center of it all, and Law felt something in his chest clench.
The show began, and you moved through your tricks with a fluidity that came from genuine joy. Your smile never wavered, it was the brightest thing on the entire ship, brighter than the lanterns, brighter than the spotlight.
Luffy kept jumping up, requesting particular tricks and begging to volunteer. But you never selected him, you typically chose Usopp, who was clearly in on all the tricks and wouldn't accidentally destroy the entire performance the way Luffy inevitably would. Of chopper who's childish wonder is easier to fool.
Law's brows pinched slightly. His crew loved your shows. They did. But they were respectful. They raised their hands to volunteer. They applauded politely at the end of each trick. They could be chaotic as well, particularly when Bepo got favored or when a particular tricks shocked them.
The Straw Hats were different.
They were practically part of the show themselves, jumping around, calling out encouragement, creating chaos that you somehow incorporated into your performance with ease. When you asked for a volunteer, they all practically fell over each other to be selected. Usopp would wrestle Luffy back, Chopper would squeak in excitement, even Robin's usual composure cracked into genuine delight.
And you adjusted to every single disruption with the brightest smile, incorporating their chaos into your act as if it had always been part of the plan.
Somehow, as the night deepened and drinks began flowing, the magic show transformed into something larger. The finale came and went, but instead of ending, the energy simply shifted. Someone brought out instruments. Brook appeared with his guitar and violin, launching into a melody that somehow managed to be both melancholy and joyful. Franky brought speakers out from inside the ship and added a steady bass that thrummed through the deck.
The deck became a dance floor.
You held Chopper's small paws as you swung around in lazy circles, the raccoon doctor laughing. Luffy and Usopp was attempting to teach the samurai's son Momo some ridiculous dance move that involved far too much flailing. Nami and Robin were trading sake between sips, their laughter musical and easy. Zoro and Sanji were bickering over something stupid.
Law watched from his bench, his distance suddenly feeling very intentional.
The ping of jealousy that had been present all evening sharpened into something more painful. Because it wasn't just envy of being left out—it was the full, crushing realization that he would never be part of this. That his ship, no matter how capable, could never offer you this. This freedom. This lightness. This belonging.
You bounced over to him suddenly, your energy almost tangible. Your smile was radiant, infectious, "Traffy! Come dance!"
You held your hand out to him, and Law felt the warmth and ecstatic energy radiating off you. It was as if you were your own ray of sunshine, lighting up everything around you. Everything in his body loosen and he couldn't help but catch your infectious smile. He reached to take your hand.
But then he stopped, his hand hovering halfway between you.
He looked over at the crew, at Sanji's easy confidence, at Zoro's drunken grin, at Luffy's obvious adoration. He looked back at you, at the way you fit into their world so perfectly that it made his chest hurt.
And he lowered his hand.
"No, I—" He tried to keep his voice steady, but he could see the exact moment your radiant face fell, could feel the shift in your expression like a physical blow. "I'm going to turn in for the night."
He stood up and walked past you without looking back.
He didn't know where he was actually going, but he needed to be anywhere else. Anywhere that wasn't here, watching you be happy in a way that had nothing to do with him.
"Law, wait. What's wrong?" Your voice came from behind him, confused and hurt. He felt your arm reaching toward him, felt you take a step to follow.
His jaw clenched. He didn't turn around. Instead, he summoned a Room with a sharp gesture and vanished.
You were left reaching out into empty air, your hand closing on nothing but the space where he'd been standing moments before.
Your chest tightened with a mixture of concern and rejection. You wanted to chase after him, to demand answers from the grumpy captain, but a rubbery arm wrapped around your waist.
Before you could protest, you were pulled back into the heart of the party. Zoro immediately materialized at your other side, tapping a fresh bottle of sake on your arm. You were surrounded by your crew's smiles, their easy affection, their obvious care.
"Where did you go?" Luffy asked, finally releasing his hold on you as he watched your expression.
You turned back toward the space Law had occupied, your gaze lingering. "I just wanted to see if Law would dance," you admitted quietly.
Sanji appeared at your other side, his expression shifting into something more flirtatious, more intentional. "You can always dance with me," he offered, extending his hand in a way that was far too smooth.
You rolled your eyes, "I would rather get Zoro to dance before I danced with you." shoved Zoro as you grabbed the bottle from his hold, who laughed at your obvious deflection.
Sanji's hand retreated in offense, his voice rising dramatically. "That moss head?!"
"Just accept it, curly brow. No one wants to dance with you," Zoro shot back, taking a swig from his own drink.
The playful argument escalated exactly as you'd predicted, and you used the opportunity to drift toward Nami and Robin, who were watching the interaction with knowing smirks.
"Where did Traffy go?" Robin asked carefully.
You shrugged, trying your best to hide the hurt that was sitting uncomfortably in your chest. "Said he was tired. Probably ended up in the lounge." You said it casually, as if your brief moment of rejection hadn't stung.
But the two women noticed. Of course they noticed.
Nami wrapped an arm around you and smoothly stole your bottle of sake, taking a deliberate sip. "Well, good riddance," she said playfully. "He's kind of a buzz kill anyway. Come on, let's dance. Don't worry about him."
You snatched your bottle back with a smile that took effort, watching the sake slosh slightly. "Alright. Let's dance." You laughed, chugging the rest of the bottle in one go before Nami could steal the rest. Before you could think too hard about the grumpy captain. Before you could dwell on what had made him pull away.
Before you could wonder if you'd done something wrong.
Law sat on the impossibly large couch in the ship's lounge, positioned directly beneath an enormous fish tank. The tank was filled with creatures of various sizes, some graceful, some strange, some far to large.
He stared up at them with a mixture of amazement and something that might have been envy.
The Thousand Sunny's lounge was nothing like the Polar Tang. His ship was small and cramped, with metal walls and utilitarian portholes. Everything served a function. Everything was compact, efficient, necessary.
This lounge was grand. The wood was warm and richly stained, crafted with the kind of care that spoke to actual artistry rather than mere construction. Natural light filtered through large windows during the day; something Law's submarine couldn't offer.
The entire ship was like this. The furniture was comfortable, lived-in. Books and maps were scattered in organized chaos. There were paintings on the walls and plants in corners and little touches of personality everywhere.
It was as bright as you. As colorful as the rest of your crew.
And suddenly, Law realized what had truly been bothering him all evening. It wasn't that his ship was inferior. It was that his ship was incapable of offering you what this one did.
You needed this. You needed the sunlight and the open air. You needed a crew that was so inherently chaotic that your own chaotic energy fit in perfectly rather than having to be tempered and controlled.
And he—
The sound of voices for outside cut through his spiral of thoughts. They grew louder, more jubilant.
And then they started singing.
"Yo ho ho ho, yo ho ho—"
It was Bink's Brew. The crew was singing at full volume, the kind of unrestrained joy that only happened when people were truly together. He could pick out individual voices—Luffy's off-key but enthusiastic rendition, Robin's surprisingly melodic tone, Brook's theatrical performance.
And then he heard you.
He'd only ever heard you hum before. Your singing voice was something he'd caught in rare moments, humming while you did chores, a soft melody while you practiced your tricks on deck. But now, surrounded by your crew, your voice was loud and full of uncontainable joy. It soared above theirs, bright and genuine and so painfully alive.
Law felt something break in his chest.
His breath hitched. His hands gripped the edge of the couch. Because he understood, in that moment with absolute clarity, that even if you did choose him after all of this—even if somehow, impossibly, you decided to stay with the Heart Pirates instead of returning to the Straw Hats. He couldn't take you away from this. He couldn't ask it of you.
And more importantly: you wouldn't choose him.
Over the past two years Law found you to be the only person to fully understand him. The only person who could relate to his experiences and not judge. The only person who could make him smile even on the days where he thinks nothing can bring him joy. The only person who he feel comfortable enough to share everything with, even feeling he hides from everyone else.
But you… you didn't need him. If you needed someone to relate to watching your entire island burn you can turn to Robin. If you wanted to share stories about the North blue you can go to Sanji. If you find a day you can't smile you can go to Luffy. If you need protection you can go to Zoro. Even if you needed a doctor you have chopper here.
And then there was the things he couldn't provide; if you needed someone to relate to stealing to survive you can go to the cat burglar Nami. If you want to talk about your magic tricks you can go to Usopp. If you needed musical enjoyment you had Brook. If you needed something made with pure craftsmanship and care you had Franky.
He laid down on the couch, facing the back cushion, and let the singing wash over him. The sound of your joy was a thing he could never create. Your crew gave you something his never could, no matter how hard he tried, no matter how much he cared.
His thoughts roamed in circles. His chest felt tight. And somewhere in the darkness, he fought back tears he refused to acknowledge.
Morning came too soon.
The Thousand Sunny docked at Dressrosa, and Law emerged from the lounge with a hardened expression. Today was the day. Everything he'd worked toward, everything he'd sacrificed, came down to this.
Today he would take down Doflamingo.
Today he would get his revenge for the hero who'd tried to teach him to love. For the man he'd failed to save. For all the suffering that single person had caused.
Today, he would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. Even if he didn't survive this plan, as long as Straw Hat destroyed the factory, as long as Caesar was neutralized, Law would have won. Even in death.
Because what reason did he have to fight for his own life. What reason did he have if the deal you made with him was never going to happen.
He followed the sound of cheerful noise toward the kitchen, his resolve hardening with each step.
When he opened the door, he was hit with the sweetest smell, butter, sugar, and vanilla.
Hootenannies.
His expression softened involuntarily.
You were at the stove, holding a pan with practiced ease while Sanji stood beside you, methodically cutting up fresh berries. The morning light caught your profile as you turned, sensing his presence before he'd even fully entered the kitchen.
You gave him that infectious smile, the same one you always gave, like his presence was something that genuinely delighted you. "Traffy! You're up!"
You set the pan down, which Sanji immediately shifted to take hold of, and grabbed a plate you'd clearly prepared in advance and set aside—far away from any gluten contamination. You held it over the bar for him to take.
Law moved slowly, accepting the plate from your hands. He looked down at the cakes, noting that they were crisper than the ones you'd made months ago on the Polar Tang. These were perfectly decorated with berries and fresh cream, each one arranged with obvious care.
"Sanji helped make them," you explained, leaning slightly closer as if sharing a secret. "So they're way better than the ones I made on my own. He also says he added something to help with stamina or something." You giggled, and the sound was so purely you that something in Law's chest shifted. "I think he's started getting into witchcraft or something, because his food really does give some kind of weird energy boost."
Law continued to stare at the cakes, his entire resolve from the morning—the hardened determination to potentially die for his vengeance—completely dissolving in the face of your simple kindness.
You turned back to the stove and hip-checked Sanji out of the way with easy familiarity, clearly catching him trying to add something to the current batch. The two of you bickered in low tones, but your voices were barely audible over the chaos of the rest of the crew, their excited chatter, their obvious anticipation for breakfast, their joy.
Law decided to sit at the bar facing the kitchen, positioning himself away from the immediate noise. He cut a small piece of cake with careful precision and brought it to his mouth.
The moment it touched his tongue, he felt like he was in heaven.
The cake melted. The flavors were complex, exactly as he remembered them from his childhood in Flevance. Vanilla and something subtly spiced, the berries bright and tart against the sweetness. And beneath it all, something he couldn't quite identify but that made him feel inexplicably energized.
"If I had known you and Y/N were from the same island, I would have made these yesterday." Sanji's voice came from above him.
Law looked up. The cook was leaning on the other side of the bar, his expression lighter than it had been since Law arrived. He turned to look for you and found you engaged in what appeared to be a gentle wrestling match with Luffy, trying to hand him a fresh plate of cakes while he attempted to steal directly from the pan.
When Law turned back, Sanji was studying him with an expression that was less protective and more... curious. "Now that I have a second opinion, do you think the recipe is accurate to the original?"
Law blinked, genuinely surprised by the shift in tone. Sanji had been protective bordering on hostile since the moment Law had stepped aboard. But discussing food seemed to open something in the cook.
Law nodded slowly. "These are exactly how I remember them."
Sanji's smile widened, and he straightened with obvious satisfaction. "Glad to hear. Make sure to eat it all. You're going to need the strength."
Then he was gone, striding across the galley to deliver a strong hit to Luffy's head for trying to steal from you. You looked smugly satisfied as your captain recoiled, holding his throbbing skull, and you stuck your tongue out at him.
Law turned back to his plate and continued to eat carefully, savoring every bite. He took his time, letting each flavor settle on his tongue. If this was his last meal and given what today held, it very well might be, he was grateful it was something so close to home. Something that tasted like memory and care.
The crew gathered outside the ship as Law recounted the plan. The three teams were laid out with military precision: the Caesar trade-off team, the factory-destroying team, the Sunny security team.
You had your arms crossed in an obvious pout, frustration radiating from you in waves. "I don't understand why I have to be on the Sunny security team."
"Because if something goes wrong, you have Bepo's Vivre Card, which will lead you to Zou," Law explained for the third time, his patience wearing thin as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
"It's not like I know how to use it anyway," you shot back. "And I already gave it to Nami to use. Why can't I just join your team?"
Law's eye twitched. Because he was deliberately placing you on the Sunny for your protection. Because the thought of you in direct combat with Doflamingo made his chest feel like it was being crushed into the ground. Because—
"Because that's not the plan," he said firmly.
Your arms threw up in exasperation. "Since when was that the plan? It's starting to feel like you don't even remember the plan. Since when did the plan involve you talking to Doflamingo alone. Are you trying to get yourself killed?”
"Will you just listen to me!" Law snapped, his voice carrying more aggression than he'd intended. He heard the sharp intake of breath from the crew around you. He watched protective postures shift, saw hands move to weapons, saw Sanji's expression harden.
You huffed and crossed your arms tighter, your expression shuttering. "Whatever."
Law felt a grumble building in his chest. He recognized that look. He'd learned over two years to read it perfectly. You were thinking of more arguments, more ways to push back, more reasons why his decision was wrong.
He huffed and turned around knowing if he started a argument he may have a entire crew of pirates after him and you may piece together his true reasoning. He starting speaking to Robin who had questions about her role.
You were trying to think through the reasons Law would have to change the plan, but then Sanji's head turned sharply toward the town in the distance. His body went rigid. Some internal mechanism had clearly activated, overriding his desire to stay.
Sanji started moving toward town with the kind of determination that suggested he had no control over it.
You immediately noticed. Your pout deepened as you realized he was part of Team Sunny too. "Where are you going?" you called.
Sanji didn't respond, already halfway down the path. You cursed under your breath and took off after him, your footsteps quick and frustrated.
And naturally, the factory-destroying team followed, clearly ready to explore the new island.
Law turned back around to find himself staring at an empty beach. The Sunny security team had been reduced to approximately three crew member and Momo, the factory destroying team vanished, and you were already gone, your frustration propelling you into whatever adventure Sanji was about to stumble into.
He let out a loud groan of annoyance, his carefully laid plans already crumbling before the actual operation had even begun.
<<First
A/N: Thank you for reading! if you enjoy post like this check out my Masterlist. and if you want to send me a request for my next post please send me a message! If you liked this and want to support me I have a tip jar on Ko-fi.
So remember that thing I said about being jobless well my husband suggested I make a Ko-fi and suggested I posted this there. However I'm not quite sure how that fully works yet so if you want to support me I have a tip jar on Ko-fi. And maybe one day I'll figure out how to use it past that.
Also as you can tell this story does have room for a part three and I may have started writing it but I don't know if anyone will want to read that. Seeing how 1. the following events are Dressrosa. 2. My third parts typically result in really bad ansgt, take my work pages of promise for example:
Pages of Promise
Part 1 | Part 2 | Sad Ending | Bittersweet Ending
But let me know anyways if you would like a part three and four as well and let me know what should be the choice should be in the end!
Summary: You are a straw hat pirate who has been stranded on a unknown island after the events of Sabaody and your entire crew was flown across the world. You are expected to train to become better, to become stronger for your crew. But you already done what you could on that island and it's only been three months. Law has heard rumors of a island with a new kind of plague one that spread from a rare gold. This hit home for him and so he went to investigates this island only to find you running amuck. You come up with the brilliant idea to join Law's crew temporarily so you can train. Law realizes the two of you have a shared history and reluctantly agrees but your on a deadline to return to your crew and your time together is limited.
Trafalgar Law x gn!reader
Word count: 9,592
A/N: It's been a while since I posted a Law x Reader fic, but as I was going through my notion board I realized I had written this many months ago and just never posted it. This also is a good break from the ROTTMNT fic I just finished posting. Anyways, this is a cute and sweet one shot but let me know if you want to see a part 2.
Law and the Heart Pirates had been following rumors for weeks of an island everyone was afraid to approach. The village, according to reports, had been devastated by plague. Even the Marines, those fearless government dogs, refused to set foot on it. And that was precisely why Law's interest was piqued.
The island sat at the edge of the Calm Belt, small and weathered, its docks showing signs of abandonment. Law expected decay. He expected emptiness. What he didn't expect was for the village to appear strangely normal.
The moment Law's boot touched the dock, every head in the village turned toward him simultaneously. Shock rippled across their faces like a wave. A few of the braver townspeople stepped forward, curiosity overriding their caution. Among them was a child who hid shyly behind his mother's leg.
"Are you a Marine?" the kid asked, his small voice barely carrying across the dock.
Law glanced down at his outfit, a yellow shirt with his jolly roger proudly displayed. "No?" he said, and even he heard the uncertainty in his own tone.
The kid's eyes lit up. He laughed and immediately took off running toward the town. "We have a visitor! A visitor who's not a Marine!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the village streets.
Law's eyes widened as he watched the kid disappear. Within seconds, the villagers erupted into excited chatter, and he heard the familiar sounds of his crew behind him, their boots hitting the dock, equipment clattering. Before Law could warn them, his crew was being gently but firmly guided away by villagers eager to show them their shops, their restaurants, their hospitality.
The child reappeared by his side yanking at his arm, "Come on! Come on!"
Law sighed and allowed himself to be dragged.
Inside the tavern, the kid practically radiated pride as he announced their arrival to everyone present. The bartender approached with an amused laugh, clearly used to the child's enthusiasm.
"What can I get you, son?" the bartender asked, directing the question at Law with a warm smile.
Law's gaze swept across the room, healthy villagers, clean tables, the smell of food rather than sickness. He turned back to the bartender, his brow furrowing. "I think I've arrived at the wrong island. I was looking for one struck by plague."
The entire bar erupted in laughter.
"Guess that witch's performance worked," the bartender said, wiping tears of amusement from his face. He leaned against the bar, still grinning. "But I have to ask, boy, why would you come to an island you believe is ravaged by plague?"
Law didn't answer immediately. He looked at the surrounding villagers, all of them clearly thriving, no signs of illness anywhere. He turned back to the bartender, his voice steady despite his confusion. "I'm a doctor. I came to help."
The bartender's expression softened slightly, impressed by the answer. Before he could respond, Law continued, "You mentioned a performance. What kind of performance would convince the entire world government that this island is decimated?"
The bartender settled in against the counter, and the child climbed onto a stool beside him, listening intently. "About three months ago, someone appeared on our island. Seemed lost and confused at first, so we took them in, gave them food, shelter, the usual. A few weeks later, a Marine ship arrived. They claimed they'd 'discovered' us and demanded we pay a fee to join the World Government." The bartender's expression darkened slightly. "We refused. Should've known better. They decided the mountain behind our town was theirs—it's rich with gold and gems. Started forcing our people into the mines, taking everything we could produce."
The child's small hands clenched into fists at the memory.
"These villagers," the bartender continued, gesturing around the bar with obvious affection, "they're too kind for their own good. They would've let those Marines bleed them dry. But then that witch they stepped in. Put on quite a show." He chuckled, shaking his head. "They told the Marines the mines were cursed, that everyone here was infected with plague. And somehow they convinced those Marines they were contaminated."
Law felt something shift in his chest.
"The Marines ran," the bartender laughed, "and we haven't heard from them since. Not that we got many visitors in the first place, so it's been quiet."
The child suddenly jumped up with infectious energy. "Y/N is so cool!"
The bartender laughed, reaching over to ruffle the kid's hair. "They sure are." He pointed up at a sign above the bar, written in careful lettering: the name of the tavern, named after you.
Law stood, his mind already moving. "Where can I find this Y/N?"
The child grabbed at his arm eagerly. "Don't worry! Once they hear we have visitors, they'll come by to say hi. They always do."
Chaos erupted outside.
The child's grin widened impossibly. "That's them!" He jumped out the seat and took off to the door.
Law pushed through the tavern door to find his crew scattering in all directions, shouting in a mixture of alarm and indignation. Racing toward them, leaving a trail of playful laughter, was a familiar figure he hadn't seen in months.
You.
"You said they came here three months ago?" Law asked the child, who was jumping up and down beside him with barely contained excitement.
"Yup! Exactly three months today!" The child pointed to the center of the street, where a massive hole gaped in the earth shaped unmistakably like a paw print.
Law's eye twitched.
Three months. A paw print. That distinctive chaos.
"A Straw Hat," Law muttered to himself, feeling something between annoyance and resignation settle into his stomach.
You were holding something red above your head, dangling it teasingly while his crew chased after you. Bepo's allowance. Law recognized it immediately. Without hesitation, he raised his hand and activated his Room. The bag vanished from your grasp and replaced with a napkin.
"Aw, come on!" you called out, your face falling dramatically before you spun around, searching. Your eyes found him. "Why did you have to take away my fun?"
Law's crew immediately turned and rushed to their captain. Bepo ran over with tears streaming down his face, thanking Law profusely as he accepted his allowance back. Law's gaze didn't waver from you.
"This is his allowance," Law said flatly, placing the bag into Bepo's waiting paws.
You rolled your eyes and stuck your tongue out at him. "I was gonna give it back. Eventually. I was just having a little fun."
"There is no illness here," Law said, turning to address his crew. "We're leaving."
His crew nodded at the order without question, already turning back toward the docks. But you were faster. You ran up to him, eyes bright with recognition.
"Hey, wait a tick. I know you!" you exclaimed. "You're that captain from Sabaody. Tra... something."
"Trafalgar Law," he stated plainly, instinctively leaning away as you leaned into his space.
"That's right! Traffy!" You laughed, and the nickname made him want to leave even faster. "Say, what are you doing here? Aren't you scared you're going to catch the plague?" You wiggled your fingers at him mockingly.
Law's patience was already thin. He scoffed, rolling his eyes at your audacity. "You should be careful about what rumors and lies you tell." His voice dropped slightly colder, holding a heavy weight. He shoved passed you and began walking toward the docks without another word.
You ran after him, quickly moving to walk backwards beside him. "Hey, I saved this island! So what if I had to lie to scare people away? It's better than letting the Marines destroy the place. Now no one will bother these good people."
Law's jaw tightened. His hands curled into fists at his sides. "A plague is serious," he said quietly, each word controlled. "If the Marines decide to take action—" The thought broke off as his mind flashed unbidden to Flevance. To fire. To screams. To the smell of burning flesh and stone. His breathing became shallow.
You seemed to sense something had shifted. Your playful tone softened slightly. "This island is already so far removed the Marines didn't even know about it until a few weeks ago. They have no trades with the outside islands, and the Marines have no reason to return now. I actually helped this island."
Law exhaled slowly, forcing his thoughts back to the present. You were right, pragmatically speaking. It didn't matter. It still felt wrong. "Whatever," he said curtly. "Enjoy your island. You have two years before your captain expects you back."
You jumped in front of him, blocking his path. "Hey, wait a minute. You just got here, at least stay for a day."
"We only came to this island to lend our medical expertise," Law replied, his tone held no argument. "Since there's no illness, we have no reason to stay."
"You could stay for dinner! We could have a feast!" Your voice rose with hope, and he could hear the villagers behind you cheering in agreement. But Law just shook his head and moved to push past you.
You grabbed his arm gently, and something in your voice changed. The playfulness vanished, replaced by something genuine. "Law, wait. Please stay so I can properly thank you for saving my captain."
He stopped.
Law turned to face you slowly, visibly shocked that you were aware of his involvement with Luffy. Your expression had shifted too, the impulsiveness had melted into something more serious, more grounded.
"I saw his scar in the photos," you explained, and your eyes held understanding. "You're the only one nearby who has the skills to keep someone alive after an injury like that. So thank you."
Law stared at you for a long moment. He looked away, toward the village, toward the eager faces of people who had so little and wanted so badly to share what little they had.
He sighed. "Fine," he conceded. "We can stay for dinner."
The villagers erupted in cheers, immediately scattering to prepare. His crew's faces lit up at the prospect of a feast, and they eagerly joined the townspeople in preparation.
You beamed at him, and before he could react, you grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the center of town. "Thank you, Law! This village really needs a reason to celebrate. This will be fun!"
Despite himself, Law let you pull him along.
By the time night fell, tables had been set up in the village square, laden with food and drink. The Heart Pirates mingled easily with the villagers, swapping stories and advice, loading their plates high with island delicacies.
Law sat at the far end of the table, removed from the immediate chaos but quietly observing. You moved between conversations with ease, listening intently to his crew's stories with genuine interest. You gasped at the right moments, laughed at the appropriate jokes, and offered stories of your own that made grown pirates' jaws drop.
As the night deepened and the food disappeared, drinks began flowing more freely. The atmosphere grew looser, more celebratory. His crew stood on the tables, reenacting their greatest battles with exaggerated movements and forks wielded like swords. The village children watched in awe.
A small smile threatened to break across Law's face. He suppressed it, maintaining his usual composed exterior—though only barely.
"I told you it would be fun," you laughed, catching his smile before it could fully disappear.
Law turned to see you holding two jugs, one extended toward him. He tried to hide his expression as he accepted it, but the corner of his lip turned upward despite himself.
You sat down on the bench beside him, close enough that your shoulders nearly touched. "Your crew seems to be having a really good time," you observed, watching his crew with obvious affection.
Law nodded, taking a slow sip from the jug. The drink was warm and sweet, with an underlying burn that settled pleasantly in his chest.
"This town doesn't get many visitors," you continued quietly, your earlier energy mellowed by alcohol and evening. "Even less so now. When I first arrived, they welcomed me in way too easily, even though I tried my best to steal from them and cause trouble." You smiled at the memory, "But when the Marines came, everything changed. At first, the villagers welcomed them too—tried to be respectful, tried to cooperate. Then the Marines discovered the mountain." You pointed behind you to the peak that loomed over the town, silhouetted against the stars. "It's full of gold and gems. Beautiful things, just sitting there. The Marines decided that meant they owned the island. Owned the people. They started forcing everyone into the mines, making them work until their hands bled."
Your expression hardened, and Law saw the protective instinct that ran through you, the same one that had driven you to action.
"The village is too kind," you continued. "They would have let themselves be worked to death rather than resist. So I did what I could. I told the Marines the mine was cursed, that everyone here had been infected with plague from the poisoned gold." You took another sip of your drink. "I put on a show with berries, smoke and lies, and somehow, somehow, they believed me. They ran, and they haven't come back."
Law watched your features carefully as you spoke. Even with the alcohol softening your edges, he could see the weight and frustration of what you'd done. The choice you'd made. He understood that kind of choice.
You turned away from him your nose flaring. Then you spoke again, your voice lower. "I know about Flevance. What the World Government did."
The words hung in the air between you. Law felt something constrict in his chest, and he quickly looked away, staring out at the celebrating crews instead.
"Then why would you make up that kind of lie?" he asked quietly, his tone rough with controlled emotion.
You lowered your head, turning your jug over in your hands. "Because they're isolated enough that the World Government doesn't care about them. And I needed to prevent the Marines from returning." You paused, swallowing hard. "I can't fight the way Luffy can. I can't overpower them. So I used what I have—lies and trickery. It's all I've ever had.”
Law nodded slowly, understanding settling into him like winter cold. He looked over at the overly friendly village, at the children laughing with his crew, at the elderly people who had so little and had nearly lost everything.
"You made the right choice," he said finally.
When you spoke again, your voice was soft. "I'm sorry if the thought of a plague reminded you of your time in Flevance."
Law's jaw twitched involuntarily as his gaze snapped to you. "How do you know I'm from Flevance?" His voice had gone quiet, dangerous.
"You have the scars from amber poisoning," you said, reaching up toward your own ear. his hand threw to his own covering the slight discoloration barely visible behind where his hat sat.
Law immediately pulled his hat down lower, covering the telltale marks completely. "How do you know what amber poisoning scars look like?" he demanded, his voice sharp.
You leaned back slightly, and in one fluid motion, pulled the back of your shirt up, revealing a large patch of white scarring across your back. The marks were unmistakable—the aftermath of the particular poisoning.
Law stood abruptly, leaning closer to examine the scars. His mind was already racing through medical possibilities. “How did you… But a proper cure was never found.” he started stammering. He finally took a breath, "How did you get the lead out of your bloodstream?"
You pulled your shirt back down and leaned away, taking a heavy swig of your drink before answering. "Very old and improper methods," you said quietly. You twisted your arm, showing him a long scar running up the inside of your wrist to your elbow—old, faded, but unmistakable. It was a scar from where they drained your blood until your body naturally removed the lead. "I was only seven. My family managed to escape Flevance the day before the extermination. But the treatment..." You trailed off, and Law understood the implication. "My family didn't survive it."
Law swallowed hard. Seven. The same age as his sister. She could have known you. Passed you in the streets. Sat next to you in class.
"With no home to return to or family left, I did what I needed to survive," you continued, your voice steady despite the weight of the words. "I've been stealing and performing ever since—going island to island, putting on a show, taking what I needed, and leaving. It was survival." You looked up at him, and something in your expression softened. "Then Luffy showed up. The town told him I was a witch to warn him away, but he thought that meant I ate children, so he was even more interested in meeting me." you laughed at the memory.
Despite everything, Law found himself smiling slightly at that.
"I owe him everything," you said softly. "He gave me a reason to stop running. Gave me a reason to dream again."
You leaned over and laid your head on his shoulder, and Law felt the weight of you—literal and metaphorical. He stiffened, clearly uncomfortable with the contact.
“Thank you for saving him.” You whispered.
Slowly, he reached over and gently pushed your face away from his shoulder. "No problem," he said, his tone betraying his awkwardness as he wiped his hand on his pants and shifted slightly away.
You rolled your eyes with a slight chuckle, accepting his boundary without comment.
After a moment of comfortable silence, you sighed and looked back out at his crew. "Do you know where he is?" you asked quietly. "Luffy, I mean."
Law's eyes glanced toward you, and there was a spark of curiosity—and something else, something that might have been annoyance. "Is this why you wanted this party?" he asked, his voice taking on an accusatory edge. "To convince me to tell you where your captain is so you can interrupt his training?"
You shook your head, and when you looked at him, there was no deception in your expression. "Of course not. This town needed a reason to party. A real one, not one built on lies." You paused. "I know he needs his training especially after losing Ace.” You frowned at the memory of the fiery boy.
“I need to train harder. I want to be stronger for him. For all of them." You spoke with a sharp determination.
Law took another sip of his drink, processing your words.
"But two years is a long time to wait," you continued, a hint of frustration creeping into your voice. "I know Luffy is expecting us to train separately, but how can I improve on an island where people just hand me things? I need a real challenge. I need—" You stopped mid-sentence, and Law watched as your eyes slowly widened. An idea had clearly struck you, and it was the kind of idea that usually meant trouble for him.
You turned to face him fully, your expression shifting into something determined and hopeful. "I have an idea. Why don't I join your crew?"
Law choked on his drink.
He coughed, sputtering, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before fixing you with a hard glare that did absolutely nothing to diminish your puppy dog eyes. "Absolutely not," he said flatly.
Your eyes grew impossibly larger, and your lip stuck out in an exaggerated pout. "Why not? You won't even know I'm there. I'll be training and observing, staying in the background. I promise.”
Law's throat tightened as he stared into your wide eyes that barely held back you excitement and pleads. Your eyes held flakes of amber—the same shade that most people from Flevance had carried. The same flakes his late sister Lami had possessed. The resemblance was striking, and it was making it infinitely harder for him to say no. And his less sober state was not helping his resolve.
He looked down at his sake, watching his reflection swirl in the liquid. He could feel you waiting for his response, sense your hope. It would be so easy to say no. It would be the logical choice. It would be the smart choice.
"Only for two years, right?" he finally heard himself say, the words seemingly coming from somewhere outside his own control.
Your entire face lit up with joy. "Technically only twenty-one months!"
Law's frown deepened, and his nose scrunched in thought—though whether it was from his irritation by the correction or simply processing the reality of what he'd just agreed to, you couldn't quite tell. "You'll pick up chores around the ship. You'll obey my orders. And you'll refer to me as Captain or Law. Not Traffy."
You jumped up so suddenly you nearly knocked over your jug. "Of course! I'll be the best crewmate you've ever had!"
This declaration apparently reached the ears of a certain polar bear, who suddenly appeared beside Law with an expression of mild concern.
"I thought I was the best crewmate?" Bepo asked, his voice carrying a note of worry.
Law huffed out a drunken laugh and leaned onto the bear's soft body. He closed his eyes, growing comfortable against the warmth. "Yes, Bepo. You will remain the best crewmate," he assured him. Then he added more plainly, "Y/N is trying to convince me to let them join our crew.”
Bepo leaned forward until his face was inches from yours, his expression shifting to something neutral and serious. "You were the one who stole my wallet," he stated.
"It was more like a purse," you said jokingly, "but yes... I was going to return it."
"You're one of the Straw Hats," Bepo continued, his analytical tone never wavering.
"Yes," you admitted with slight pride.
“Why do you want to join our crew?”
“To get off this island and to train. It will only be for twenty one months then I’ll be out of your hair… fur?”
Bepo's eyes narrowed further, and for a moment, the tension hung in the air. Then his entire face transformed, brightening into pure, innocent joy. "I'm first mate, and you're new, which means you're underneath me."
You nodded quickly. "Understood." You threw your hand up to a joking salute.
"Welcome to the Heart Pirates!" Bepo shouted, suddenly lifting you into a massive bear hug.
Law, who had been using the bear as a pillow, suddenly found his support disappearing. He fell backward, knocking over his jug in the process. The remaining sake spilled across his chest, soaking into his coat.
“I didn’t say yes.” Law complained but it was already to late.
The other pirates, hearing the commotion and Bepo's announcement, came running over in excitement. They swarmed around you, pulling you into a group hug, cheering and laughing. Law sat up with a frown, wiping the sake from his face, but the expression quickly softened as he watched his crew celebrate their newest member with genuine joy.
Despite the alcohol soaking his clothes, he allowed himself a real smile.
The next morning, the entire town came to see you off. As you made your way up the submarine's ramp, villagers thrust gifts into your arms—bags of gems and bottles of local alcohol, handmade blankets and scarves, jewelry crafted with care. You stumbled forward, weighted down by their generosity, huffing and puffing as you dragged the enormous bag toward the deck.
Law stood at the top of the ramp, arms crossed, watching your struggle with an arched eyebrow. "Isn't that a lot of stuff?" he asked.
You yanked the bag onto the deck with a final heave, breathing hard. You looked up at him, pushing the blankets out of your face. "It's all gifts from the townspeople. They wouldn't let me refuse. Don’t worry I’ll share some of it as a thanks for getting me out of here." You pulled the blankets off and tossed them toward the bag, then began removing jewelry and adding it to the pile. "Besides, most of this is gems and gold—things they don't use. And if Nami heard I said no to that, she'd kill me on the spot." You laughed, though there was genuine fear beneath the humor.
Law turned back toward the town, observing the villagers still waving from the docks. "These townspeople seem to really like you," he observed.
You smiled, continuing to wave back at them. "Which is exactly why I need to leave," you said out of the corner of your mouth. "If I stayed much longer, they'd try to adopt me officially."
Law shook his head with a snicker, turning to signal Bepo in the control room below. The first mate nodded and disappeared to start the engines.
"I wish there was something we could give them," Law said, watching the growing stack of crates full with food that the townspeople had already loaded onto the deck. "For all of this."
You continued waving, even as the submarine's engines began to purr to life. "Keeping the World Government off this island should be enough. That's worth more than any treasure."
The engines hummed louder, and the ramp began retracting into the submarine's hull. You leaned against the railing, still waving. "Remember! If anyone bothers you, tell them this island is protected by the Straw Hat Pirates!" you shouted, Law gave a cough behind you, "And the Heart Pirates!" you added with a smile.
The Heart Pirates crew cheered in unison at your addition, waving their goodbyes as the submarine began to move forward. The townspeople waved back, their cheers fading as the distance grew.
You turned back to face Law, and despite the exhaustion written across your features, your expression was radiant. Law simply rolled his eyes and nodded his head for you to follow him inside.
You grabbed your bag to drag it, but Law raised his hand slightly. Your bag vanished and reappeared in what you assumed was the storage area below. You smiled, free of the weight, and followed your new captain into the submarine's corridors.
As Law led the way, he sighed—not from annoyance, but from something deeper. Something like resignation mixed with anticipation. The next twenty-one months were going to be complicated.
19 Months Left
It had been a few months since you joined the crew, and you'd integrated smoothly into the Heart Pirates' rhythm. In the mornings, you helped with cooking and were eager to learn about medical practices, frequently mentioning how happy Chopper would be to have a knowledgeable assistant when you reunited. At the end of each week, you put on a magic show in the ship's cafeteria to practice your illusions and sleight of hand.
These shows had quickly become the highlight of everyone's week.
Your crew members would gather in the cafeteria with barely contained excitement, watching as you produced impossible things from thin air, made objects vanish and reappear, transformed simple props into wonders. Each week brought new tricks, each performance more impressive than the last. The crew loved it—loved you.
Law watched from the doorway each time, his expression carefully neutral, his focus entirely on you. He never applauded or cheered. He simply... observed.
One afternoon, Law found you on the deck swinging a sword around with determined focus. He paused for a moment, simply watching as you threw the blade forward with all the force you could muster, then executed a quick step backward, your imaginary opponent pressing you from an invisible angle.
"Since when did you fight with a sword?" Law asked, breaking the silence.
You stopped mid-swing, lowering the sword. Your expression grew distant for a moment. "Zoro tried to teach me a few things a while back," you said slowly. "He wanted to convince me to start using a weapon. I wasn't serious about it at the time. If I had been..." You trailed off, and Law could see your mind traveling backward to Sabaody, to watching your crewmates disappear one by one. "I have to be stronger for them," you declared, lifting the sword again and preparing for another swing.
Law found himself smiling, just barely, just enough for it to be real. He walked toward you slowly, and without a word, positioned himself behind you. Gently, he wrapped his arms around you, supporting your stance with his body. You froze at the contact. His hands were cold as they held your elbows, but his torso which was pressed against your back radiated warmth.
"Your form is as if you're swinging with multiple swords," he said quietly, his voice near your ear, "but you're only fighting with one. A single blade has advantages, if you use it correctly."
He re positioned your arms into a better angle, then reached down to your hips and twisted them slightly. You felt heat rise to your cheeks as his chest remained against your back, as his focus remained entirely on your form. It was hard to concentrate on sword technique when every nerve in your body was acutely aware of his proximity.
Law stepped back, seemingly unaware of the effect he'd had on you. "Your doing well," he said.
"I barely started," you replied, pinching your eyebrows together.
"Not just with the sword," Law continued, his tone shifting into something more genuine. "You've really grown since arriving. The crew loves your magic shows, and I'm still trying to figure out how you managed some of those tricks. You've improved tremendously in medical knowledge—I hate to admit it, but you're better with some procedures than several of my crew members now. And it's only been a few months." His praise was specific, earned, rooted in actual observation.
Your smile grew, buoyed by the genuine compliment from someone you'd learned didn't give them lightly. You turned to face him. "Wow, Law. That was actually really nice," you teased.
Law's face flushed slightly and he quickly turned toward the door. "Use your full body to swing. Do full swings, not half ones," he said as he hurried away, his tone abrupt and gruff in stark contrast to the vulnerability he'd just shown.
You snickered, turning back to your practice with renewed energy. You took his suggestion to heart, swinging wider and twisting your hips with more intention. And although he was gone, you could feel the ghost of his presence—his hands on your arms, his voice in your ear, his quiet belief in your potential.
15 Months
The entire submarine seemed to pulse with unusual tension. Everyone moved with hushed voices, their movements careful and deliberate. The normalcy of routine had been replaced with something heavier.
You made your way through the corridors, noticing the odd behavior but unable to pinpoint its cause. Eventually, you found Bepo in one of the common areas, his usual cheerfulness replaced with anxiety. His hands wrung together nervously.
"Bepo?" you called out. "What's wrong?"
Bepo flinched at the sound of your voice, then relaxed slightly. "Oh, it's just you," he sighed in relief.
"Why are you so jumpy? And why is everyone acting so weird?" you asked, furrowing your brow.
Bepo sighed heavily. "Captain is really tense today. He shouted at everyone in the control room this morning." The worry in his voice was palpable.
"Where is he now?" you asked.
Bepo simply pointed down the hallway toward Law's office.
You made your way toward the captain's quarters, your footsteps quiet on the metal floor. As you approached, a calendar hanging outside his office caught your eye.
You stopped.
Your eyes fixed on the date, and the breath caught in your throat. You'd been aboard so long that you hadn't been tracking the time properly. But there it was: the date that always circled back to haunt you.
"The date always sneaks up on me too," Law's voice came from behind you, pulling you from your spiraling thoughts.
You spun around to face him. He stood in the corridor, still in his coat, and even from a distance, you could see the weariness etched into his features. His eyes were puffy from crying, though he'd clearly tried to hide it.
"It's been fifteen years," you said quietly, your ever-present smile finally slipping away to reveal the grief beneath. "You'd think it would get easier."
Law shook his head slowly. "It never does." He gestured toward his office door, and you followed him inside.
The scent of old paper and ink filled your senses as you entered his space. Books lined the walls, and various documents were scattered across his desk, maps, notes, research. You closed the door behind you softly.
"What brings you to my quarters anyway?" Law asked, slumping into his chair with visible exhaustion.
You jumped onto a clear area on the edge of his desk, positioning yourself to face him. "I came to see why everyone seemed nervous about you today, but I think I've answered that for myself," you admitted.
"I suppose I was in a reactive mood this morning," Law said, rubbing his hand over his face in a gesture of defeat.
"Do they know?" you asked, looking at him with understanding. "Your crew, I mean."
"Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin know the premise," Law replied. "They're my adoptive brothers, after all. But I think they forgot about the date. Not that I can blame them. I often forget about it myself..." He trailed off.
"And then the date comes and all the memories come flooding back," you finished, giving him a small, sad smile.
He nodded, and silence fell between you—the kind of silence that only two people carrying the same weight could share.
You began wringing your fingers together, a nervous habit. "I never told anyone," you admitted softly. "About Flevance, I mean. About being a survivor. I was always afraid that if the government found out they'd missed one, they'd stop at nothing to finish the job."
Law swallowed hard, understanding that fear intimately. The paranoia of survival when your government wanted you dead.
You turned to him, meeting his eyes. "How did you survive?"
Law sat up straighter, connecting his gaze with yours. "I hid among the dead bodies of my classmates." His eyes darted away, unable to hold the weight of your stare as tears began to fill his eyes. "My parents and sister were in the hospital when it burned." He sniffed, his voice cracking slightly. "I couldn't get to them."
"You had a sister?" you asked gently.
Law simply nodded, unable to trust his voice further.
"What was she like?" you pressed, your voice soft as you gave him space to open up.
Law took a shaky breath. "She was seven. Trafalgar D. Water Lami."
You perked up slightly. "D. Water?"
"That's my full name," he admitted, the words seeming to cost him something. "The D clan is considered the enemy of the World Government, so I chose to keep it hidden. To protect myself. To protect anyone who got close to me."
You studied his vulnerable features carefully—the tension in his jaw, the moisture in his eyes, the way his shoulders curved inward protectively.
"I think I do recall Lami," you said thoughtfully. "She had those brown pigtails, right? Always wore that yellowish dress?”
Law's head snapped up, and his eyes suddenly showed a spark of something—hope, maybe. Or the ache of memory. "Yes," he breathed.
"She was kinda annoying," you added, and you watched as Law's jaw clenched.
You bit your lip, uncertain if your joke had landed right, and held your breath.
Then Law snorted—a genuine laugh that seemed to break through the dam of his grief. "She really was!" he said, a watery smile crossing his face. "She was always following me around, always trying to do whatever I was doing."
The laughter morphed into tears. You leaned over, rubbing his back gently as he wiped his eyes. "She looked up to you," you assured him, feeling the tremor in his shoulders.
"Now that you mention it, I think I recognize your father too," you continued, changing the subject slightly to give him a moment to compose himself. "I think he was the doctor who treated my brother."
"What is your family name?" Law asked, lifting his head to look at you.
You slouched, suddenly feeling very small. Your family had been nobles—wealthy, well-connected, aware of things they chose not to act on. You fidgeted with your fingers, avoiding his gaze, unable to face what you might see in his expression when he learned the truth.
Law reached over and placed his hand on your leg, rubbing it gently. The warmth of the gesture gave you courage. You took a tight breath and spoke your family name.
Law's eyes widened in recognition, and you still refused to look at him, shame burning through you.
Law sat back, clearly processing the information—the weight of it, the implications, the history it meant you two shared.
"I remember your brother," he said finally. "Gale, right?"
You smiled despite yourself, thinking of him. You gave a small nod.
"He was my dad's first patient for amber lead poisoning," Law recalled, a note of sadness in his voice. "You had four other brothers, didn't you?"
You smirked slightly, the familiar pride in your siblings overriding your embarrassment. "Yeah. Graham, Garrett, Griffin, and Gideon. I was the youngest. Gale was the closest to my age at thirteen."
Law smiled at that—a real smile. "I think I visited your place once with my father. That giant house on the top of the hill. I remember it was a mess."
You tried to hide a laugh, thinking back to your childhood home filled with five teenage boys and all their chaos. "Having five teenage brothers did have its own aesthetic," you said with fondness.
"It explains how you put up with this crew," Law laughed, some of the heaviness lifting from the moment. You joined laughing as well comparing the crew of 18 men to your crew of 5 teenage boys.
Silence fell again, but this time it was softer. Shared.
"I miss them," you said quietly, a bubble of sadness catching in your throat.
Law took in a shaky breath. "I know."
You rubbed your tears away. "We should go do something," you said suddenly.
Law looked confused. "Like what?"
You jumped off the desk, reaching down and grabbing his hands, pulling him out of his chair. "Let's go out and celebrate their lives. Do something special for the fifteenth year."
Law smiled, wiping his own eyes clean. "Okay. Where to?"
"Let's hit the town!" you said, and despite everything, despite the grief and the weight of lost years, Law found himself being pulled toward the door.
You and Law returned late into the night, completely drunk and stumbling into each other with helpless laughter. From the deck of the Polar Tang, Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin watched in amusement.
"How did they convince him to let loose like that?" Penguin commented, nudging his brother with his shoulder.
Shachi laughed, blowing a cloud of smoke into the night air. "Who knows? But I'm glad they did. He was being an extreme bummer today."
"Why was that anyway?" Bepo asked.
The other two exchanged a knowing look. "Ohh shit..." they realized simultaneously.
They turned back to watch their captain nearly slip off the dock as you barely managed to catch his arm, both of you dissolving into giggles. Your skin tone matched his so closely. Your mannerisms echoed his in ways that couldn't be coincidence. The cultural resemblance, now that they were looking for it, seemed obvious.
"Is Y/N from Flevance?" Shachi asked in genuine curiosity.
The three crew members watched in silence, already forming their own theories, watching the way Law's hand steadied you even while he was laughing, watching the way your attention never strayed from him.
Something had shifted. Something important.
9 Months
When the rest of the crew woke, the scent of fresh pancakes filled the submarine's corridors. Within minutes, nearly everyone had made a beeline for the kitchen.
You stood above the stove, humming softly as you flipped what looked like pancakes high into the air, catching them with practiced ease. The counters around you were piled high with golden, fluffy stacks. You turned toward the first crew members to arrive, Penguin, with a bright smile.
"Good morning!" you chirped. "Help yourselves! I made these for all of you!"
The crew wasted no time. They lined up eagerly, filling their plates with the pancake like food and finding seats throughout the galley. Within moments, happy chewing and murmurs of satisfaction filled the space.
You smiled and continued to make more, your humming carrying through the kitchen in a contented melody.
Law was the last to arrive, his eyebrows raising at the sight of his crew's cheerful consumption of breakfast. He made his way toward you, leaning against the counter. "What did you put in those pancakes?" he asked, watching you work with a mix of curiosity and suspicion.
You smirked, glancing toward the happily eating crew before turning back to him. "Well for starters, their not pancakes. Their Hootenanny." you said with a wink as you plated some, topping it with berries and slid it toward him.
Law's mouth opened to respond, but you spoke first.
"That batch is made with gluten-free flour," you added. "For you."
Law's eyes widened as he looked down at the plate, and then at you. He closed his mouth, a genuine smile breaking across his face. He pulled the plate closer, cutting a small piece and raising it to his mouth. His eyes widened in shock at the complex flavor—sweet, fruity, with an underlying earthiness that felt like home. A breakfast treat his home was known for.
"Wow," he murmured before quickly eating the rest, unable to slow down. "How?”
You chuckled, clearly pleased by his reaction. "Sanji helped me recreate the recipe from memory. It's probably a little off since he added some of his own flare, but I think it still captures the authentic Flevance flavor."
Law nodded, finishing the last bite. "Why are you doing this?" he asked, turning around to look at his crew, who were contentedly eating their breakfast.
You filled another plate with a stack of cakes and slid in beside him. "It's been a year since I joined your crew, so I wanted to show my thanks. The last island had the supplies I needed, and it just worked out."
Law blinked, processing. "Has it really been a year already?" He looked at you with surprise. "Time really does fly."
You nodded, sliding your own plate in front of you. But you didn't look at him as your eyes drifted away, looking out into the kitchen's middle distance.
Law's brows pinched together. "So in nine months?" he asked carefully, his tone betraying the careful way he was handling the question.
"I'll be finally out of your hair," you said quietly.
Law was silent for a long moment. When he spoke, there was an edge to his voice. "You say that like you're a burden."
You chuckled, finally looking up at him. "Didn't you act like I was when I first joined?"
"When you first joined, I thought you would be a tornado of chaos," Law said, a small smirk crossing his face. "After all, you did steal Bepo's wallet."
"I was going to return it," you protested, pouting slightly.
"Anyway," Law continued, turning to lean his back against the counter, "my point is that for your first week, yes, I was counting down the days until you left. But you quickly changed my mind." He paused, his gaze drifting to his crew before returning to you. "Now I don't know how this crew will function without you."
You shoved your shoulder into his gently, a teasing glint in your eye. "Is that your way of saying you'll miss me?"
Law chuckled, turning to look at you more directly. A small smile played at the corner of his mouth. "Is that hard to believe?"
You shook your head, laughing. "I'll miss this too," you said, your expression softening as you looked toward his crew. "I miss my original crew, but these guys..." Your smile grew wider. "They've become a new family to me."
Law watched you carefully, his eyes scanning your face as if trying to memorize it. "Then why not stay?" he asked softly.
Your expression flickered with conflict. You took a deep breath and looked away, shaking your head slowly. "Law, I owe you so much and I'm grateful beyond words that you let me join your crew," you said carefully. "But—"
"But?" Law prompted, his tone carrying an edge of apprehension.
"But I owe Luffy everything," you said, turning to lean your back against the counter beside him. "The reason I'm here, the reason I'm training—it's all for him. I need to be stronger for my captain."
Law lowered his head, "He is a lucky captain," he murmured so quietly you almost didn't catch it.
You raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at your lips. "Law, are you jealous?" you teased. "Do you like me?"
Law's eyes widened in panic. "What! No!" he said quickly, his voice rising slightly. He pushed himself off the counter, creating distance between you. "I was saying he's lucky to have you on his crew." He began taking steps toward the door, clearly flustered. "Because you're good at cooking Hootenannys."
You snorted with laughter as he hurried toward the exit.
"Law, you're being weird!" you called after him, grinning at his obvious embarrassment.
He didn't turn back, but you could see his shoulders tense slightly before he disappeared around the corner.
2 Months
Months had passed, and Law found himself staring at his calendar with a heaviness he couldn't quite suppress. The days were being crossed off, and you only had two months remaining. You had started telling the crew more stories about the Straw Hats, speaking with increasing excitement about rejoining them and showing off everything you'd learned.
Each time Law overheard these conversations, his frown deepened.
He knew it was inevitable. He'd known from the beginning that this was temporary. And yet... somewhere along the way, temporary had started to feel permanent. You'd become woven into the fabric of his crew, someone he relied on, someone who understood him in ways few others could, someone whose presence had become essential.
Law sighed deeply and walked out of his quarters onto the deck. You were there, sparring with Shachi while the rest of the crew stood in a loose circle, placing bets on who would win. Behind them, a scoreboard tracked wins and losses, you and Shachi were tied for first place.
Shachi threw his leg in a sweeping motion beneath you. You jumped cleanly over the strike and spun to kick at the back of his head, but he anticipated the move. He leaned to the side, grabbed your flying leg, and yanked you over his shoulder. You let out a yelp as you hit the mat with controlled impact.
Shachi took his advantage and jumped on top of you, pinning you down as Bepo began counting.
"And Shachi takes the win!" Bepo announced, and the gathered crew cheered or groaned depending on their bets.
You and Shachi both jumped up, laughing and shaking hands. "How did you know I would kick back?" you asked.
"Because you always do," Shachi laughed, and the two of you walked off the mat together, already planning the next match.
"Y/N!" Law called out, drawing your attention.
You turned with a smile and ran over to him. "What's up Traffy! Did you see that fight? I almost had him! I think I can beat him next time. I should of gone for a lower kick followed by a punch." You mimed the movement and corner of law's lips twitched upwards.
Law let the nickname slide without comment, "Yeah, it was good," he said. "Anyway, I need your help with something." He turned back toward the submarine's interior, waiting for you to follow.
You waved goodbye to the crew and followed Law down into the corridors, eventually reaching his quarters. Inside, you found newspaper clippings pinned to the walls and scattered papers everywhere, plans, sketches, notes, all crossed out and reworked multiple times.
Your eyebrows pinched together at the sight. "What's all this?"
Law sighed, sitting on top of his desk and running his hand through his hair, pushing his hat back slightly. "I'm leaving in a month," he admitted.
You spun around, shock registering across your face. "What are you talking about?"
He took a deep breath, “You know how I told you about the man who took me in after Flevance?”
You crossed your arms, “Corazon?”
He nodded, “and how he was killed by his brother.”
You nodded awaiting his answers.
He gestured to a photo of the tall lanky warlord, “What I didn't tell you was his brother was doflamingo.”
You stilled looking at the wanted poster of the man, his extremely high bounty. Law was a warlord himself now but even so his bounty never came close to Doflamingo.
“and you want to kill him.” You said flatly hiding your emotions.
He groaned, yanking at his own hair in frustration. "I don't want to just to kill Doflamingo, but to destroy him and everything he's built. In order to do that, I need to gather intelligence on him and his operations. And I haven't told anyone—I don't plan on telling anyone either."
You furrowed your brow, moving toward the scattered papers. "Then why are you telling me?" you asked, picking up a loose page that showed a layout of a building labeled "Punk Hazard."
"Because I ran into an issue while planning, and you're the only one who can help me work it out," he explained. He paused, then added quieter, "And because you deserve to know."
You nodded, looking over the scattered plans. As you read through the discarded ideas, your stomach sank. These plans were suicidal. "Why don't you want to tell your crew?" you asked, your voice tight.
"Because I won't risk their lives for my vengeance," he said simply. "And if I tell them, they'll either try to join me or try to stop me. Neither option is acceptable."
You turned on him, fury flashing across your face. "So you thought you'd tell me because you think I won't try to stop you?" you snapped.
His eyes widened slightly at your tone, “think?” He repeated, flinching back slightly from the rage in your eyes.
The anger boiled inside you as you began throwing the papers at the man. Law immediately raised his arms to block the incoming barrage.
“Did you think that I wouldn't care because I'm leaving in two months anyways? That once I go back to the Straw Hats, none of this would matter?" You grabbed more papers from the desk and threw them at his face. “That I would be ok with you running off trying to get yourself killed!”
"Wait! That's not it!" he pleaded, covering his face with his forearms as paper rained down on him.
"Then what is it?" you demanded, still throwing papers. "Because that's exactly what this looks like!"
Law snatched at your arms stopping your attacks. "I showed you this so you could help me rework it," he said firmly. "And to ask you for a favor. A real favor."
You leveled a look at him, breathing heavily, waiting for him to continue.
"I want to ask your captain to form an alliance." Law said carefully.
You paused, your anger draining away as quickly as it had arrived. "Okay," you said slowly. Your arms falling out of his grip and to your sides.
"Okay?" Law asked, clearly expecting more resistance. "Just okay? No questions, no more throwing things? You're on board?"
You nodded, and without waiting for further explanation, you moved past him and shoved him off his desk. You pulled a pen and paper out of the drawer and began smoothing out and organizing the crumpled pages you'd thrown.
"With Luffy always," you said as you worked. "I'm on board with whatever you need."
Law watched you, something shifting in his expression. "You trust him that much?"
"Oh goodness, no," you said honestly, still gathering papers. "That boy has no concept of a plan and it will surely piss you off when he enviably ditches it, but I know that Luffy will keep you alive." You paused and turned to face him directly. "Law, you're planning on surviving this, right? Because your life is not worth your vengeance. But if that's what you need, we'll do it."
Law closed his mouth and looked away from you, but not before you caught the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. After a long moment, he nodded and looked back at you. "Do you think Strawhat-ya would even agree to an alliance?"
You laughed—a short, genuine laugh. "All you have to say is you want to fight someone and he'll be on board immediately." You smiled before returning to organizing his rough plans and piece it together to fit your captain and crew into them.
Law looked at you while you worked, your brow furrowed in concentration. "Thank you, Y/N," he said softly.
You looked up to see him watching you with an expression of genuine gratitude and something deeper you couldn't quite name. You gave him a slight smirk. "Thank me when we make it back alive and you get to reunite with your crew properly."
Law chuckled with a nod, turning back to the desk. The two of you worked late into the night, planning and strategizing, your thoughts weaving together until the line between his vengeance and your alliance became inseparable.
1 month
It was time for goodbyes or at least, goodbyes of a sort.
Law was leaving the crew at a strange island, split between a freezing tundra on one side and boiling lava fields on the other.
Law held a small bag slung over his shoulder while his crew pulled him into a massive group hug. He was scowling at the contact, his body rigid with discomfort, but you could tell by his eyes, the way they softened slightly, the way the tension in his shoulders eased just a fraction, that he was enjoying it more than he'd ever admit.
After a long moment, Law finally pushed them away, his expression immediately returning to its usual stoic state. He turned to you as you waited by the ramp, your arms crossed over your chest.
"I'll see you in a month," he said, and there was a slight smile playing at the corner of his mouth.
You nodded. "You better not do anything stupid until then."
"You're the one who needs to stay out of trouble," he chuckled, and there was affection beneath the teasing.
You snorted. "You know full well I can't promise that. Trouble is practically my middle name."
He shook his head with a knowing smile, the kind that said he'd expected nothing less from you. But then his expression grew quieter, more serious. "Just make sure to stay alive," he said softly. "I quite like not being the sole survivor of Flevance."
The words hung in the air between you, and time seemed to pause.
Twenty-one months ago, the mere mention of that island would have made you flinch. Would have sent you spiraling back into memories of fire and screaming and loss. But now, hearing Law say it—hearing him acknowledge that you were both survivors, that you were no longer alone in that burden it made something shifted inside your chest.
You blinked, taking a moment to compose yourself. When you finally spoke, your voice was steady. "I do too."
Law's eyes slightly widened, and you watched as something flickered across his face.
"Are you absolutely sure you won't stay?" he asked quietly, his eyes searching yours. "Once this is all over?"
You lifted a finger to your chin, tapping it thoughtfully. "How about this," you said slowly. "I'll consider it if you come out of this alive."
Law's smile grew, wider and more genuine than you'd seen it in weeks. "I'll take that deal."
He extended his hand toward you, a formal gesture that somehow felt more intimate than anything else that had happened between you. You took it without hesitation, and his grip was warm and solid and full of promise.
"Don't die, Traffy" you said with a smirk as his nose slightly scrunched at the nickname.
"Don't die, Y/N," he replied, squeezing your hand once before letting go.
He turned and walked down the ramp without looking back. As the submarine began to pull away from the dock, you stayed at the railing, watching him disappear into the depths of his plan, into his vendetta, into the unknown.
One month.
One month until you saw him again. One month until you see your captain again. One month to prepare yourself for war. One month to survive.
You could do that. You'd survived worse.
A/N: Thank you for reading! if you enjoy post like this check out my Masterlist. and if you want to send me a request for my next post please send me a message!
Also let me know if you want to see a part 2. It's been a while since I wrote a one piece short and I'm quite pleased with this one.
