Just a self indulgent piece. I've been feeling like my body is against me -I can't sleep at night and my body aches- so my intention to play Hades to inspire my next piece went out the window like that office meme and was replaced by this one.
At first I thought of writing it with Dante (DMC) but I wasn't in the mood to make him a banner and I had Law's one done, and he's a doctor so I thought it would be a good pair. I'm not completely satisfied with this one but hey, I'm feeling better now that I wrote something, even if it's not what I originally thought.
I hope you all enjoy this piece, and don't forget that my requests and comissions are open.
Summary: Sometimes, all you want is to lay down and be spoiled. Sometimes, all you need is for Law to act like your boyfriend instead of your doctor.
Characters: Trafalgar Law, Reader (female).
Theme: SFW (unless being nude in the bath counts as NSFW), argument, comfort, romantic relationship, intimacy.
Inspiration: My horrible internal clock that makes me an owl, and my body who likes to ache with no apparent reason from time to time.
Warnings: Body pains, sweat, talks about shark week and big breasts being a nightmare, a little argument, nudity in the bathroom.
Also read in: Soon in Ao3 & Wattpad.
Spanish version: (when I’m feeling in the mood to re-write this in Spanish. Hopefully soon).
A grunt escapes your mouth only to be muffled by the pillow you’re using to sink your face. The position is uncomfortable, you feel suffocated with your nose buried in the pillow and your breasts being pressed against the mattress.
But it’s this, or laying on your side and feeling your hip cry in anguish; or laying on your back and for the same to happen to your shoulders and neck.
Today is one of those days in which everything hurts for no reason. Your body feels heavy and the extreme heat of the submarine doesn’t help at all, not when you feel your sweat dripping to the bed and your hair sticking to your skin and everything, feels, wrong.
Taking a cold shower sounds delightful, but you have no strength at all. The mere idea of having to get off the bed, of moving your limbs and then force your whole body up and out of the room makes you dizzy and sore.
And it makes you mad, because you didn’t do anything for all your existence to be against you today. You didn’t force your body yesterday nor the past week -no more than usual, at least- and you didn’t even expect your bloody torture to come back for around two more weeks, but even so you feel like you’ve been hit by Bepo.
“Stop whining.” A voice you usually love goes to your ears but his words aren’t pleasant, and not what you want to hear right now either.
“I’m not in the mood.” Your tone confirms it, and the man stops right at your side, his attempt at playful banter with you forgotten and replaced by worry.
“You’re hurt?” He’s concerned, even if he’s usual flat tone doesn’t show it.
“Yes, and no.” That’s not an answer, so you try to elaborate after moving enough for your mouth to not be pressed to the pillow. “My body just decided it wanted to be in pain and I didn’t sleep at all last night and if I move I feel like all my bones will break and…”
“Ok, ok, I get it.” He huffs and you give him the stinky eye, frowning hard and staring directly into his grey eyes with your angry ones.
He sighs through his nose, knowing he souldn’t have used that condescending tone but too prideful to say he’s sorry about it. So he tries something else.
“Get up, I’ll give you a check-up.” But that makes things worse.
“What part of ‘everything hurts’ you didn’t get? I don’t want to move.” Or do anything at all.
“This is about your health, not what you want.” You huff, petty and not less angry now that he’s using those patronizing words with you. “Now up, I can’t check you here.” He frowns, confused and not amused at your lack of cooperation. You’re the one in pain, not him.
You’re the one who should be asking for his help but all you do is keep being stubborn, refusing him when he’s even going out of his usual comfort zone to offer it to you. It’s just not his style, but he’s doing it anyway because it’s you.
However, you’re not grateful at all. And that is beginning to make him mad.
“Sure, it’s so easy for you to say that when you don’t have two stupid bags of meat hanging from your chest and making your back ache even when you’re using a bra.”
“Want me to take them off?” He asks right away with a frustrated look.
If it were someone else, you would have thought they’re messing with you but with Law’s devil fruit you know he’s capable of doing it, and honestly? Sometimes you feel tempted by the offer, but not now. Now is pissing you off.
“No, I don’t want to, and I don’t want a stupid check-up or for you to ask me questions and write them down on a medical record. I don’t need you as a doctor.”
At that, he frowns deeper, pride probably hurt and beginning to feel the heat of anger on the pit of his stomach. Law has little patience for people in general, and you’re putting it to test. If you weren’t his partner he wouldn’t even bother talking to you.
“Look, I’m not going to waste my time. If you don’t want my help...”
“That’s not what I mean, Law!” You cut him before he could finish, getting up and sitting on the bed so you can be more on eye level with him.
You know where this conversation is going and you don’t like it. He doesn’t, either, but arguments are usually like that between you two. Even with someone as blunt as Law there is always room for misunderstanding when you two talk. You have chemistry, that’s undeniable, but sometimes the mix is an unstable one that can explode at any second.
Frustrated, you let out a heavy sigh. You try to calm your breathing, to calm your mind full of nothing and everything at the same time. You sigh again, but this time you take your hair out of your face and look directly at him, a little calmer now at least.
“Right now, I don’t want you to pester me with medical info and the like.” Not the best start, but it’s something and at least your voice is low now. “I don’t want you to be my doctor, Law.” If you think about it, it feels strange.
A doctor will be really helpful right now, especially one as capable as your captain, but it’s your heart the one talking now, not your brain. Judging by the look he gives you, Law also finds it strange, but doesn’t comment on it even if it’s just for the sake of not arguing again.
“Then, what?” He’s impatient, nerves still on edge. Maybe he’s expecting your next words to bring back the tension and explode into a fight, and he’s not in the mood for that. None of you are.
“I need for you to be my partner.” That takes him off-guard, surprise not evident but clear in the way one of his eyebrows arches and his hands relax the grip he had on his own arms. “I need you to stop thinking about which kind of medicine I should take, to not tell me to go to the medic room to do a check-up and instead go to the kitchen and bring me water, and a snack, and maybe resurface this stupid submarine so I can go out to get some fresh air to stop melting.”
That last one is a little unreasonable since you’re travelling and it’s dangerous to go out just to satisfy your whim, but you hope he’s getting the point.
“I want you to tell me to do nothing, to lay down and relax while you spoil me and hear me rant.” You’re not asking for the impossible.
You’re not even asking him for his affection if that makes him uncomfortable. You’ll do with his time and a little bit of his attention, enough to hear you complain and actually listen to it instead of ignore you or hum just to pacify you.
“Right now, I want you to be my boyfriend, not my doctor, much less my captain.” That’s the summary, and for the looks of it, Law understands.
It takes a little, half a minute or so of silence while you look into each other’s eyes as if trying to decipher some kind of puzzle. More times than not, your emotions are just that: a riddle looking for someone to get it right and solve it.
More times than not, Law is that one.
“That’s all?” But he asks anyway, because he knows you and if people in pain can be a hassle, you can be even worse and he wants to be sure you’re on the same page.
“That’s all… But if you give me a massage too it will be wonderful.” You smile to say goodbye to the tension between you two, and he does too, more a smirk than a smile but it makes you feel butterflies in the belly all the same.
“Or what?” Your smile widens right before a laugh escapes your mouth when he uses his hand on your face to push you to the bed in a playful but also careful manner.
“Or I’ll eat your snacks on the way here.” You fake a whine, watching him get up and go through the door to -you suppose- make his way to the kitchen to bring you the food you’re craving.
Expecting Law to appear with Bepo carrying a big stash of comfort food it surprises you to see him walk barehanded. But before you can ask him anything he takes you princess style and carries you to the bathroom.
There’s no steam floating around, and the warm water with a hint of coldness makes you sigh in delight when he helps you undress and lowers you in the tub, being slow, careful with every one of his actions.
You look at him, focusing your gaze on the way he awkwardly tries to sort out the snacks laying in the basket at his feet while trying to get comfortable on the stool. You can’t help but smile, enamoured by the way he’s trying his best even when this is not his forte.
“You’re the best”. Dreamlike tone, hushed voice filled with love and gratitude. You really needed this, needed him.
“Hm, I know.” You huff, almost laughing and breaking a little the tooth-rotting sweet atmosphere in favor of an easy-going one.
And this time, you’re more than happy to obey.
You liked it? You can make me a request or comission.
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