Loving Law - An OP Shipping Zine

A free-digital zine all about loving Law and his many adventurous relationships. Released - https://lovinglawzine.itch.io/loving-law-sfw-zine ~ More info - http://lovinglawzine.carrd.co

[lovinglawzine]

❤️Doctor, doctor, gimme the news❤️ ❤️I got a bad case of lovin' you❤️ After a year of hard work and lots of passion, Loving Law now presents our love letter to our dear captain. 💛❤️🐯❤️💛

💋SFW & OC/X-Reader with over 100+ pages of beautiful art and writing. 💋NSFW with over 100+ pages of spicy art and writing.

[chenziee]

Red

My piece for @lovinglawzine! It's completely free and available to download right now! There's two zines, >SFW< and >NSFW< and both are full of Law love 🤍🐯 (did I mention it's free?)

[ READ ON AO3 | KO-FI | COMM INFO ]

—————

The first time Law noticed the red cord tangled around his little finger, he dismissed it. He was still deathly sick from amber lead, the brutal loss of Cora-san painfully fresh on his mind, and some strange thread couldn’t be anything but a hallucination. After all, he couldn’t even touch it and it didn’t lead anywhere his hazy eyesight could see. What else would it be except something his exhausted mind had made up?

The second time he noticed it, Law accounted it to still not being used to his devil fruit. It was barely the third time he had managed to successfully conjure up a Room—as he had decided to call it—and it was still wonky, still clumsy, still unstable. He couldn’t see any strings on his hand or anywhere else when he wasn’t using his powers so there was no way it was really there.

The third time he noticed it, he inadvertently remembered a story his mom used to tell him and Lammy. A story about a Red String that connected two fated lovers, two people who were of one soul, never to be complete without the other. Soulmates, so to speak. He disregarded the thought immediately for being too unscientific and ridiculous.

The sixth time he noticed it, he decided he had to be losing his mind because now he could see a red string on everyone who entered his Room.

The twentieth time… 

The twentieth time he barely even noticed the strings tangling in the snow underneath his feet anymore.

—————

After eleven years with the power of the Op-Op Fruit, Trafalgar Law could confidently say he understood how it worked and what it allowed him to do. He could remove people’s organs without hurting them, he could perform near-impossible surgeries without so much as thinking about it, and he could do whatever he wanted within his Room.

And, despite his best efforts, Law couldn’t ignore that anymore either.

It took a lot of back and forth between Bepo and Penguin’s romantic mindset, and his and Shachi’s more realistic—or jaded, as Ikkaku liked to say—worldview. It took him years but in the end, Law had no choice but begrudgingly admit that his power also allowed him to see the so-called ‘Red String of Fate’, whatever that was.

Strings that weren’t so much red sometimes as they were on a scale between black and gold. Black—dark, charred, and dead—presumably for deceased partners. Red for disconnected strings. Gold for a string that found its other end—the second (or third or last) person sharing this bond. To this day, Law wasn’t sure how much weight he should be giving to it though. He had seen people with strings blood red, yet with wedding rings on their fingers, crying for their beloved wives and husbands while Law cut them in half with morbid fascination, uncaring.

On the other hand, he had encountered people with beautiful gold around their left little fingers… who seemed nothing but happy to meet their demise by Law’s unforgiving hands.

All in all…

Law didn’t care.

Least of all, about the red string that was still securely tied to his own hand.

Honestly, if he could, he would have burned it long ago. And boy, did he try. After all, what use did he have for a ‘fated partner’? What did that even mean? He didn’t know and he didn’t care. The only thing that mattered to him was Cora-san… and Doflamingo.

But, eleven years in, he had long since resigned himself to the thing being there to stay.

Not that it made any difference to him or anyone else.

At least, that was how it was for a long time. How it was supposed to be.

“You guys stay back. I’ll handle this,” Straw Hat Luffy announced as he, Eustass Kid, and Law took their stand in front of the Sabaody human auction house.

“No, you two stay back!” Eustass snapped back—raising to the bait like a child.

Law, on the other hand, stayed perfectly calm. “You tell me what to do one more time and I’m killing you first, Eustass-ya.”

“Just me, Trafalgar?” Eustass asked, shooting Law a look.

Law didn’t bother dignifying that with a response.

Not that there was that much time for chit-chat once the marines surrounding them from all sides broke out of their pathetic stupor and cannons started going off, shooting straight at them.

“Room,” Law said lazily, taking Kikoku out of its long scabbard. Nonchalantly cutting off the head of the nearest marine, Law quickly switched it with the cannonball hurtling at him, then caught the screaming head easily. 

As he tossed it in his hand a few times, a smirk playing at his lips, Law wondered… how should he play with these rats? They didn’t have much time before an admiral would be on their asses so he couldn’t get too creative…

“Wow, your power’s weird.”

Law huffed, tilting his head to the side to glance at Straw Hat; there was a look in his eyes that was slightly curious… but mostly completely honest, almost innocent, but with a strange weight behind it that made Law freeze completely just for a second. It was the same weight, same intensity as when he had punched that Celestial Dragon, but at the same time, it felt completely different.

But, before he could decipher it or really think about it, the moment was over.

“Look who’s talking, Straw Hat-ya.” Law huffed in amusement, turning his attention back to the scrambling marines.

He called forth another Room just as Straw Hat dashed past him. Law wanted to roll his eyes at his impatience but then something else caught his eyes—a smudge of red trailing after him, flowing happily in the air as if to mark the path he took.

Inadvertently, Law’s eyes followed the string. He wasn’t sure why; maybe because it basically hit him in the face when he flew past, or maybe because Law hardly ever saw a string that wasn’t dragging on the ground, hardly saw someone with the other end of the sting being close by.

Or maybe, that too was fate.

As he followed the path of the string, Law’s eyes widened once his gaze reached his own hand. His own left little finger, where the other end of the string was tied snuggly… while a gold glitter started to spread around it.

No.

No, that couldn’t be right.

There was no way Law was tied to Straw Hat Luffy.

“You chickening out, Trafalgar?” Eustass called mockingly as he stole the swords out of the hands of the three marines that had attacked Law, the three marines that Law had completely failed to notice in his shock.

At least it’s not this fucking guy, Law thought to himself.

“Shut the fuck up, Eustass-ya,” he snapped back, then sighed deeply.

What was he doing? It didn’t fucking matter if Straw Hat was his ‘soulmate’ or whatever other unscientific, superstitious, childish word he wanted to call this stupid thing.

After all, what did he care? He never cared. Not once.

He had neither the time nor the capacity to waste on pointless ideals like love. He knew what love was. He had received love. And then he lost it, every single time. 

His country, his city, his parents, his sister, Cora-san…

He’d lost all of it and now, nothing mattered—nothing but fulfilling Cora-san’s ambition.

Least of all, some reckless idiot in a straw hat with a smile that could blind a person, and passion that could burn down the entire world.

—————

When Law heard about the execution of Portgas D. Ace, he thought nothing of it. He was curious to know how it was going to end: who would win, how the world was going to change, where the delicate balance of power would tilt. He was looking forward to seeing it… but he had no personal interest in it—not in the war, the government, the Whitebeard Pirates, in Fire Fist, or anyone else involved in the fighting.

When Bepo asked him why they were going to Marineford, Law didn’t have an answer for him.

—————

Law was used to operating on people. He was a surgeon, after all. It was what he did.

It was supposed to be routine for him by now.

So why were his hands shaking when he stood above Straw Hat Luffy lying on the operating table, unconscious and bleeding heavily, his life escaping him with every weak breath he took?

Law knew why, but he refused to acknowledge it.

He refused to acknowledge the string hanging between them, the very same string that had changed colour from red to gold just days ago—now slowly turning black. He refused to think about it when he first saw the state Straw Hat was in, he forced himself to ignore it when he first created a Room around them inside the Tang, and he actively turned his eyes away whenever he checked on him while he recovered.

And now, as he sat on the shore of Amazon Lily, clutching the old, tattered straw hat in his hands, he fought with himself trying to not pay attention to the way his left little finger tingled, almost as if the invisible string was strangling its blood flow. Which was ridiculous; the string wasn’t really there, it wasn’t real. Law knew it was only in his head but even so, with every distant scream and every creak and crash of a tree falling, he felt another tug on his hand.

How long had this been going on?

It felt like hours since Straw Hat had woken up—since he started this self-destructive rampage.

At the back of his mind, Law wondered whether this was it. After all the work he had done, after spending two weeks saving his life… Straw Hat was going to kill himself. The thought bothered him more than it should have; his heart was beating at a nervous rhythm, his hands sweating and shaking just the smallest bit, his stomach heavy as if he had swallowed the rocks Straw Hat had shattered with his bare hands earlier.

He hated it. He hated feeling like this just because of a patient.

Clicking his tongue in annoyance, Law forced himself to focus on his surroundings. He let his eyes wander around the bay, taking in Ikkaku and Hakugan checking the outside of the Tang to make sure Straw Hat hadn’t damaged her anywhere, Bepo scribbling out a clumsy map to the side, Jean Bart chatting with Uni and Clione, telling them about his days as a captain of his own crew. They all seemed to be having fun…

It left Law feeling that much more stupid for being so nervous—so scared. 

How pathetic.

“Whoa!!”

Law startled at Shachi’s sudden call; inadvertently, he looked his and Penguin’s way—the both of them were looking at the sea just off the shore, pointing and shouting about sea kings fighting. As if that was so strange in the Calm Belt.

Still, Law watched with them as the creature struggled, sending violent waves across the water surface in its pointless fight for dear life. It didn’t stand a chance and for a moment, Law wondered just what kind of monster was out there, and if maybe it was going to turn its eyes on the Heart Pirates next. Not that he was worried—rather, a fight might distract him from his thoughts, and from the pirate who was fighting for his life and sanity behind him; so close, yet so far out of Law’s reach.

It didn’t take long for the fight to end and oppressing silence to settle over them. It was like no one even dared breathe as they waited for something to happen. Something, anything…

Except for what did actually happen.

“What a nuisance…”

Both Law and his crew could only watch in stunned silence as a regular human emerged from the water, climbing up the rocks that made up the Amazon Lily’s shore line as if he had just gone to take a quick dip on a vacation instead of fighting a Neptunian in the middle of the goddamned Calm Belt.

Maybe it wasn’t too much of a stretch to call him a monster anyway.

“D-Dark King Reyleigh?!” Penguin cried, the first one to break out of his stupor.

“Oh, it’s you guys. We met at the Auction House, right?” Dark King noted as he casually wringed water out of his clothes.

“Why—how—?” Clione stuttered.

The Dark King huffed. “My ship sank in a storm so I had to swim the rest of the way. It was more taxing than it should have been, I’m really getting old.”

“Storm?” Penguin repeated. “This is the Calm Belt, just how far did you swim?!”

“Anyway,” Rayleigh said, completely ignoring the question in favour of turning to look directly at Law with an unreadable smile on his face. “I’m assuming Luffy is on this island somewhere, isn’t he?”

The question was so simple… but it was as if lightning ran through Law’s body. His breath hitched in his throat, his heart beating a pace faster, his grip on the straw hat tightening. How did he know? Did the navy know too? Were they safe here? What did he want with Straw Hat?

Law wasn’t stupid. He knew that if the Dark King wanted to kill Luffy—or any of them—there was nothing any one of them could do to stop him. No one on this island was a match for this man.

A beat of silence passed while the two of them eyed each other, before Law took a deep breath and spoke up, voice carefully measured. “And if he is?”

At that, Rayleigh laughed. It wasn’t mocking—a genuine, light laughter, one that finally helped Law relax, knowing that there was no immediate danger from him. 

“You’re quite protective of him, I’m glad!” Rayleigh noted after a moment. “I was wondering what the feared Surgeon of Death wanted with Luffy but I see I didn’t have to worry.”

The smile he gave Law this time was so amused, so knowing, that Law suddenly felt incredibly exposed. It was like this man could understand everything about him and Straw Hat, and about Law’s motives; things that even Law himself didn’t know.

He hated the look.

Clicking his tongue in annoyance, Law finally looked away. “He’s here. Unless he manages to reopen his wounds and dies.”

“Wonderful! Thank you for taking care of him. I’ll take over from now on.”

"Why?" Law asked before he could stop himself, or at least try to keep his unfounded hostility out of his voice.

And once again, laughter was his response. "Oh, did you intend to keep Luffy all to yourself?"

Law startled at those words. Suddenly, as if doused in ice-cold water, Law was brought back to reality—the reality where Straw Hat was just some pirate he had barely met once, where Law had his own life, his own mission which allowed for no attachments to anyone or anything.

The reality where he had no reason to stay.

Ignoring the painful pang next to his heart, as well as the sharp tug on his little finger—imaginary, it wasn't real, there was nothing there—, Law gave the hat in his hands one last look before he closed his eyes momentarily and sighed.

“No,” he said simply as he finally stood up to his feet. “Two weeks of absolute rest, minimum.”

The Dark King didn’t say anything for a moment, merely studying Law’s expression as if he was trying to cut into his brain and pick him apart, but before Law could snap at him to stop, the man nodded. “Alright, thank you.”

With no reason to linger anymore, Law tossed the straw hat at Rayleigh, not sparing either him or the hat another glance. “Let’s go.”

“What?!”

“But captain—”

Law cut off his crew’s protests with a single glare, one that made them all deflate and shuffle to the sub without another word of complaint. He could hear Shachi and Penguin whining quietly to each other about having to leave the Maiden Island without even getting to properly talk to a single girl but he ignored them, choosing to focus on their departure.

Briefly, he wondered whether he should have waited to at least say goodbye to Straw Hat… but he knew that if he waited for him, if he had to look into those huge, expressive, beautiful eyes that were so full of energy and passion and life… he wouldn’t be able to say it.

Wouldn’t be able to leave.

And Law knew, he knew he needed to go now.

He had no right to stay by his side, after all—not when Straw Hat was injured, broken, and suffering, not when Law could do nothing about it except stop the physical bleeding. Not when Law himself was already broken, his path set for him since eleven years ago—a path that led to nothing but destruction, and which would have Law leave eventually regardless.

It was better for the both of them like this; to part ways before it was too late. 

Before either of them could do something as stupid as falling in love was.

—————

That was two years ago. During that time, Law had managed to forget about Straw Hat Luffy—forced himself to pretend he didn’t see the golden string on his left hand, to act like he didn’t know who it led to. Focusing on his mission, on Joker, Law lived his life without looking back at those eyes and bright smile.

But now, Straw Hat Luffy was standing in front of him in the snow of Punk Hazard, bright and beautiful and oh-so-warm and Law…

Law knew.

He knew he wouldn’t be able to pretend anymore.

[captainbutterbuns]

My final piece for @lovinglawzine's NS/FW section! We've reached 900+ downloads! To see the full piece head to my Twitter or my BluSky. You can still download the zine here!

[pirateheartbeat]

"𝙻𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚝𝚘𝚘, 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚗𝚎, 𝚍𝚘𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛." 😈

My artwork for @lovinglawzine

[dingbatsy]

My piece for the @lovinglawzine! The doctor living his superhero fantasy dream!

[captainbutterbuns]

One of my page pieces for @lovinglawzine. It goes with my last 3 drawings posted for the zine.❤️ Full photo with Law D🍆 can be found on my Twitter and BluSky.

[coffeetothepeople]

My piece for @lovinglawzine

Super excited to have been part of the project and gotten to work with so many wonderful people! The zine is free to download, so check it out!

[captainbutterbuns]

Another smaller piece I drew up for the Loving Law Zine. More to come!

(The last two are not safe for work, so the full versions of those will be on my Twitter and BluSky.)

You can still download the zine! SFW & OC/X-Reader NSFW

[thus-spoke-lo]

All You Had to Do Was Ask // Trafalgar Law x afab!reader

CW: modern AU; afab!reader [no pronouns used]; strip games; suggestive content WC: 2.7k A/N: I'm pleased to be able share the piece i created for @lovinglawzine! if you haven't had the chance to download it yet, please be sure to check out the 100% free SFW/OC/X-Reader and NSFW downloads - over 200 pages of incredible writing and gorgeous illustrations, all featuring Trafalgar Law getting the love he deserves!

Law observes you from the doorway of his tiny kitchen while he listens to the last drips of coffee splash into the pot. You fidget in place, sitting cross-legged on his living room floor amongst a sea of papers and books, your massive pharmacology textbook laid open to a heavily-highlighted page, multiple neon colors taking up almost every paragraph. He suppresses a grin, feels a blush rising in his cheeks as you chew on the end of your pen and fiddle with the hem of your sweatshirt—little quirks that have captivated him after watching you in class year after year, habits he’d grown particularly fond of after spending hours with you poring over quizzes and assignments in the library and chugging the last sips of burnt chain-store coffee while you work yourself into a tizzy over a mediocre grade.

There is something irresistibly charming to him about your passion and dedication to your schoolwork and your fits of worry over what would inevitably turn out to be nothing at all—after all, you’re in the top of your classes for good reason, Law right alongside you, jockeying for the highest marks. He fills two mugs with coffee and chuckles to himself at your needless anxiety; if you worry half as much about your future patients as you do about a missing half-point of extra credit or a misinterpreted question that led to a wrong answer, then you’ll end up a fine doctor indeed.

And now here you sit in his small apartment, deep in another tumult of concern over next week’s midterm, looking as adorably anxious as ever; he never means to minimize your very real worries over your own abilities, but it’s hard for Law to deny that your nervousness is at least a little bit endearing. You’d shown up a little while ago out of the blue, standing at his door with your backpack held tightly to your chest, grimacing as you implored him to help you study.  How could he possibly say no to you? Certainly not with the way you stood in his doorway, looking disheveled and harried, gazing up at him with pleading eyes through the fall of your lashes, biting your lower lip in anticipation of his answer. Who was he to deny you his time when you vibrated with a nervous energy that he knew he could sooth with honeyed words of reassurance and a warm beverage? No, Law has never been able to say no to you, not since the first class you’d shared where you rushed to the first empty seat you spotted and quietly asked if you could sit beside him; he’d barely acknowledged you with a grunt, trying to keep his eyes straight ahead, but felt a warmth spread through him every time he’d glance at you out of the corner of his eye and catch your gaze.

Law passes your mug to you, his body stiffening as your fingers brush his, and plunks his lanky body down across from you on the floor, avoiding the carefully-placed stacks of papers that separate you. Something stirs in him as you nod sweetly in appreciation before pulling your legs up to your chest and taking a few slow, careful sips of your coffee. He wonders if you ever feel that stirring too—that tingling at the base of his spine that makes it hard not to lean in and kiss you just to sweetly cease your worried ramblings, that warmth in his core that makes him stop just short of settling his hand in your thigh in class and letting his fingers explore the expanse of bare skin that spreads out from under your skirts. You must feel it too—he’s seen the way your glances longer just a little too long when you think he isn’t looking, how you eye his copious tattoos when he leaves his shirt unbuttoned just a little lower than usual or rolls his shirtsleeves up on a hot day. You must feel it too, he reasons—why else would you smile at him in that way that feels like it’s meant only for him?

One day he’ll tell you, Law assures himself day after day—he’ll tell you just how much you mean to him, how these years in this program have been made more bearable by having you around. He’ll tell you how he wishes you’d come by for more than just study sessions and free coffee, how he knows just how good his hands would feel around your waist, his lips pressed to yours in the cold, dark quiet of his bedroom. But Law is, above all else, a methodical man, and his careful planning and good intentions were getting him nowhere with you—unending thoughts of precisely how to confess to you only work if he actually intends to act on them. All his years of painstaking preparations seem to be unraveling day by day, replaced by a restlessness in his bones, an eagerness to know you as more than just a friend—and an uncharacteristic impulsiveness that he is no longer certain he can repress.

“Thanks for this,” you finally mutter, setting your cup on the low table beside you. “Not just the coffee—for all of this, I mean. I know I sort of showed up out of nowhere, but I was in the neighborhood. I guess I could have texted first, but I just—”

“It’s okay, really. I don’t mind that you’re here.” Law reaches out and places his hand on top of yours, gently stroking the inside of your wrist with his thumb to slow your frantic chatter. His boldness startles him a little, the ease with which he touches you on a whim feeling at once unnatural and comfortable, like he’s meant to feel your softness beneath his fingertips.

Your lips part as if to speak, but instead you simply stare down at his hand for a moment, a soft squeak tumbling out of you, before retracting your arm and placing it in your lap. “I—well, that’s good, then.”

He can still feel you on him, feel the bones of your wrist and the smoothness of your skin, feel the way your pulse raced under the gentle grip of his fingers. It’s like he imagined it would be, warm and perfect, and he quickly clears his throat before he loses himself in thoughts of how the rest of you would feel under his tattooed fingers.

“You know, I really don’t think you have anything to worry about,” he says reassuringly as he starts to grab a stack of paper. “You always worry, and then you do just fine.”

“Only because you help me.” You flip through your textbook absentmindedly, seeming to be actively avoiding his stare. “You make the best study materials.”

Law feels a warmth spreading through his chest that extends out to his limbs, heat pooling in his core—the same one that always ignites when you sit just a little too close, let your hand stay just a little too long on his shoulder when you shuffle behind his seat in class to reach yours. He stills himself and inhales deeply—an idea begins to simmer in his mind, and the longer he sits, and the longer he lets uncertainty linger between you, the more and more it builds until it boils over and he finds himself blurting out a question he’s only half-prepared to know the answer to.

“Hey—what if we played a little game?”

You glance up from your textbook and raise a questioning eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

Law runs through scenarios in his mind, all his careful planning suddenly useless as he quickly settles on an idea. “I was just thinking—sometimes it helps to have some distractions when you’re studying, you know? Something to take your mind off the anxiety.”

“Okay, and what exactly did you have in mind?”

“Well, I’ll quiz you from these study guides you made. And for every five questions you get right”—he pauses, touching his tongue to the corner of his mouth—“l’ll take something off.”

“Law!” Your eyes grow wide and your jaw slack, an astonished huff leaving your lungs.

“What?” A subtle smile quirks up the corners of his mouth as his eyes roam over your features; you look surprised, perhaps a little embarrassed—but not offended. “You don’t think an incentive could help?”

“And what if I get it wrong?”

“Well,” he purrs, cocking his head, riding a sudden high of confidence, “for every one you get wrong, then you take something off for me.”

He eyes you as you swallow hard and chew on your lower lip—you’re going to say no. You’re going to say no, despite how smooth he made his offer, despite how desperate you are for his help, and he won’t blame you if you do. You’ll never trust him again, he’s ruined everything, he never should have—

“Okay. Let’s do it.” You stare at him with jaw set, eyes wide, chest heaving a little under your shirt. A tight-lipped smile stretches across your lips, and your posture stiffens. “I’m game.”

Law nearly chokes on a relieved sigh, and his pulse races as he grips the study guide. He runs his thumbs over the smooth paper and wonders just how far you’ll let him go, just how far his little game will take you—and there’s only one way to find out. His eyes scan the first set of questions, and his stomach drops: there’s no way you won’t know the answers. You’re too quick to answer in class, and you’ve clearly pored over every page in your textbook with its copious color-coded highlighting. He takes a deep breath and wonders how quickly he’ll end up losing his shirt—or more.

As he had suspected, the first question is no sooner past his lips before you’re blurting out the correct answer; he nods, muttering “you got it,” and continuing. He lobs questions at you, one after another, and you answer each with ease—all correct, five in a row. Law tries to keep moving, continuing with his rapid-fire pacing, but you stop him, the beginnings of a wry smile on your lips.

“Now, now,” you tease, “aren’t you forgetting something?”

“Right.” He quickly unzips his hoodie and tosses it behind him, tugging at the hem of his t-shirt, suddenly feeling more exposed than anticipated. Law feels a heat rising in his cheeks as he catches your gaze landing on his tattooed forearms, your eyes darting over his skin.

He launches another barrage of questions at you, even more difficult than the last, but you make quick work of them—another five in a row.

Shit.

He removes his socks next, despite your insistence that this is cheating, and continues. You get another five right, and as he prepares to be stripped of his pants and possibly his dignity next, when he quickly responds, “Nope. The answer was B.”

“What? That’s bullshit!” You lean forward, brows furrowed and mouth agape, trying to snatch the paper from his hands. “I know that can’t be right, we just went over it in class last week!”

He sits back just enough so only your fingertips graze the paper, suppressing a depraved grin. “That’s what it says here. I don’t know what to tell you.”

You sit back and run your tongue along your teeth, your eyes narrowed at him, and for a moment, Law thinks that you may have seen through his ruse—or, at the very least, that you’re going to end his little game. But instead, you strip your sweatshirt over your head and toss it to the side, leaving your torso covered in a thin tank top, and Law’s pulse quickens at the sight of your bare skin.

“Alright, go ahead,” you shrug, a look somewhere between annoyance and self-assurance settling on your face, “quiz me again.”

Law lets you enjoy a few more right answers—you truly do know this subject well—before he fabricates another wrong response. This time you don’t protest, only huff a sigh through your nose and stand, shimmying out of your jeans; he catches a glimpse of your panties before you quickly sit back down and cover your lap with your sweatshirt. It feels a little wrong to be doing this to you, to take advantage of your trust and your reliance on him as your friend and study partner, but the guilt is slowly being erased by an insatiable hunger. He wants more, wants to see you bare before him, a display meant only for him. What he’ll do with you once you’re exposed, that he doesn’t know; all he knows for sure is that he close, so very, very close, to having you in front of him the way he’s dreamed of for so long.

A few more right answers pass, and he lets you reach five again—despite the fever that grips him, he knows you’re too damned smart not to get suspicious, assuming you aren’t already. And so he lets you have a win and he slowly, teasingly, takes off his shirt—letting you see a full glimpse of the tattoos that cover his torso.

“See something you like?” he grins, stretching his sinewy arms above his head to allow you an unobstructed view.

“What? No! I mean—t-they’re just cool is all,” you stammer.

Law’s cheeks burn at the feeling of being objectified by you, immersed in the sensation of being desired as much as he desires. It’s cute how you protest, how even now as he lets you see what you clearly have wanted to see, that you try to keep your eyes focused on anything but him—and fail over and over again. He finds it harder to want to keep quizzing you, wanting more than anything to toss the booklet aside and push you down against the floor, to make a mess of your books and papers and give in to the years of yearning and

Finally, he continues—he lets only one right answer pass this time before he corrects you, the need to see more of you becoming overwhelming. You slowly strip your tank top off, tossing it at his head when you’re done, giggling softly as he pulls it away from his face. Law watches as you sit back on the heels of your palms and shift so your sweatshirt falls out of your lap; he suppresses a moan as you bend your knees and let your legs loll to the side, exposing the thin strip of cotton fabric that separates his eyes from your center.

“Law, what are you doing?” you ask, head tilted to one side, a coy smile on your lips.

He manages to tear his leering gaze away from the apex of your thighs, and his pulse races at the look on your face—you look nearly as ravenous as he feels. “W-what are you talking about?”

“You know damn well I didn’t get those answers wrong.”

“Is that so?”

“What are you playing at, anyway?” You feign a pout. “Thought you wanted to help me, Law.”

“I did—and I do—I just—”

“Just what?”

You crawl across the floor to him, yanking the study guide out of his hand and tossing it to the side. Breathing feels impossible and his heart thrums away in his ribcage as you straddle his lap and press against his pelvis; a soft gasp leaves his lungs, his excitement becoming difficult to mask as he strains against the fabric of his jeans at the feeling of your heat against him. You grasp his arms and place his trembling hands on your hips, then drape your arms over his shoulders, wriggling as you settle yourself on top of him; it’s everything he wanted, everything he needed, and it’s happening so quickly that no amount of meticulousness, no amount of preparation could prepare him for the way you so nonchalantly take control. Law’s breath hitches in his throat—you’re close, so close, your lips nearly grazing his as you lean in and press your heated cheek against the side of his face. He can almost taste you, almost feel you melting into him, almost feel your heart racing against him matching the speed of his own.

“If you wanted to see me naked,” you whisper in his ear, warm breath spreading across his skin, “all you had to do was ask.”

[attyrocious]

i had the pleasure to draw for @betsib's @lovinglawzine piece, Only You And I Remain

i was looking for process shots of this but ig i drew it in a manic state and didnt pause so have this sketch and inks side by side instead

[cebwrites]

emo x punk nerds as featured in @lovinglawzine 💕

thank you so much for letting me show off the boys in the SFW & OC/X-Reader section, it's been super fun working on my piece/with my assigned mod o(*￣▽￣*)o

[katia-anyway]

Hey everyone!!! Here is the piece I made for the @lovinglawzine's NSFW section! Please enjoy it and go download the zine, it's still available for free!

A Dream Come True! (3251 words) by Katia_Anyway Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: One Piece (Anime & Manga) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Trafalgar D. Water Law/Vinsmoke Sanji Characters: Trafalgar D. Water Law, Vinsmoke Sanji Additional Tags: Sora Warrior of the Sea, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Flirting, One Night Stands, Or Is It?, Frottage, Blow Jobs, Hero Worship Series: Part 2 of Sora Warrior of the Sea - LawSan version Summary: Sora Warrior of the Sea, has been on the Polar Tang for a few days now, and he seems to be favoring Law: making him his favorite foods, trying to spend time alone with him, etc. Law doesn't want assume, but it looks like the hero might like him. Spoiler alert: he does. He does a lot.

[purplehairedwonder]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Fandom: One Piece Rating: PG-13 Relationships: Trafalgar Law/Roronoa Zoro Words: 3,808 Characters: Trafalgar Law, Roronoa Zoro, Bepo, Jean Bart, Shachi, Penguin, Hakugan, Ikkaku, Nico Robin, Usopp, Stainless, Fujitora (mentioned) Summary: On the way to Wano, the Polar Tang is ambushed by the Marines. During the fight, Law goes overboard, and Zoro dives in after him. The swordsman's complete lack of direction, however, results in him and Law being taken prisoner. The two must work together to escape before they're handed over to an admiral.

Law would be having a much easier time of things if Zoro would stop flirting.

Notes: Written for @lovinglawzine. The zine is free for download, and features some fantastic writers and artists! Check it out here!

[betsib]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

We were let loose to post early, so here is my kidlaw piece for the @lovinglawzine

(I recommend checking out the full zine, there's so many great works in it! Link to it here.)

[captainbutterbuns]

Here are my first two pieces for @lovinglawzine! A little appetizer before the next course. You can still download it for free to see all the tasty content!

[lovinglawzine]

It's time to pray! @redinkrabbit has blessed us with some beautiful LawLu.

The zine is still free to download! ❤️SFW & OC/X-Reader ❤️NSFW

[lovinglawzine]

Illustrating for RndmRhinoceros's Soul Eater AU is @likedtree. Both the story and art are superb!

Both the SFW & NSFW can still be downloaded! 💋SFW & OC/X-Reader 💋NSFW