God Spelled Backwards is D-O-C-T-O-R (Trafalgar Law x Reader, Chapter VIII)
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: 8k
Tags/Warnings: Minors DNI, CardiacElectrophysiologist!Law, EchoTech!Reader, AFABFEM!Reader, Modern Hospital AU, Language, Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Dom!TrafalgarLaw, Dubcon, P in V Sex, Dirty Talk, Workplace Sex, Sir Kink, Heavy Degradation (Slut, Whore, Pet), Petnames (Good Girl, Baby, Sweetheart), Unprotected Sex, Inappropriate Use of Hospital Equipment, Foreign Object Vaginal Penetration, Breath Play (?)
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
Note Edit: The start of the sexual encounter is marked by 𓊹𓊹𓊹 and the end is marked by 𓊹 for those who would rather skip it. The end marking (𓊹) is 5 paragraphs from the bottom.
You proceeded to have the best sleep of your life that very night. And for once, you slept in, waking a whole hour past your usual work start time to the warmth of a calm Saturday morning. You rolled over in bed, reaching for your phone to check your notifications like the phone addict you are.
And among the usual pop-ups about the latest news, the day's weather, and some miscellaneous social media items, your heart stopped at the text you received an hour ago.
“I instructed the delivery person to leave it at your door,” were the only words the message from “Doc Trafalgar NBUMC” said.
You immediately shot up in bed, throwing your blankets off you. The residual fatigue from sleep hit you as you did, causing you to take a moment to shake off your sleepiness before bolting out of the bedroom. Because what the fuck did Law send to your place?
You threw open your front door, blinking a few times as you found a plastic bag on your doorstep. You glanced around outside before snatching the handles and bringing the package inside.
The packaging wasn’t exactly discreet. You dumped the contents of the bag onto your kitchen counter, and two small boxes tumbled out. Law had sent a morning-after pill and a vaginal boric acid suppository, respectively.
You immediately whipped out your phone.
“Stalking me now?” You typed furiously before placing your phone on the counter. You planted your hands on the cold surface, reading the boxes in front of you.
If you gave Law one thing, it was that he didn’t cheap out on you. This can send you name-brand, physician-approved, and certified products. It had to have cost him a pretty penny. You reluctantly tore through the tape seal on the morning after pill.
God, he sent you a morning-after pill.
Trafalgar Law sent you a morning-after pill.
As if the soreness between your legs wasn’t enough to remind you what you did.
Law’s response came swiftly. It lit up your screen, and you jumped for it faster than you were willing to acknowledge.
“Just being responsible,” it wrote plainly. You rolled your eyes, making a face at the screen.
“Seems a little late for that,” you fired back, placing your phone back down, but face-up and on this time. You popped the pill out of the bundle of packaging, throwing everything else in the trash, before you prepared a glass of water. But Law didn’t write back even after you took the pill. You messaged again, “What’s the other one?”
“Vaginal suppository,” Law answered quickly, as if that was helpful in the slightest. That’s what it said on the box. “For your pH. Probably want to insert at night.”
You frowned because, for whatever reason, you really didn’t want Trafalgar Law talking about your pH. Call yourself crazy for such a thing…
You didn’t respond, and instead went about your Saturday.
***
The weekend came and went as it usually did for better or for worse. On the one hand, you got better sleep than you had been getting. On the other hand, your brunch date with Sanji went on just about as well as you expected.
He had met you at your place, pulling up in a pristine, yellow sports car. He sported a basic, but clearly expensive, collared shirt and designer sunglasses, and you had an excuse for that light, flowy outfit in your closet that had been sitting collecting dust for the better part of two years. The food was good, but the conversation around it was a lot more dull.
At the very least, Sanji appeared to have had a great time, not noticing how your responses came a beat too late. Or rather, if he noticed, he didn’t seem to mind.
You, meanwhile, continued to shift in your seat, still fighting that dull ache that Law had lovingly left behind Friday night. The very memory of it seemed like a dream, like it hadn’t been real. Because by all means, the fact that you’d let Trafalgar Law of all people fuck you on your desk at work, of all places, continued to register in your mind as insane.
Well, it was. And you were equal parts anticipating and avoiding the workday on Monday because of it. Knowing Law, it was likely that nothing would change. But at the same time, you weren’t sure you could display the same nonchalant attitude about things. How were you supposed to look at him the same way ever again? And worse, Law wasn’t the type to brag about a conquest, was he?
The two of you had been rivals ever since he started months ago, and you weren’t sure if you could put it past him to not take pleasure in finally coming out on top. He had the potential to say all sorts of things about the mouthy technician from imaging who finally submitted that attitude to the new, young doctor. And you supposed you would only be able to put your quiet worries to rest once you got a feel for things on Monday.
With any luck, Law would be as cold as usual, and things would eventually settle back into the way they were.
When you first walked into the building on Monday morning, you noted first that Law was not loitering outside of imaging. You took a breath in, deciding that it was a good thing, before tapping into your office.
The automatic lights illuminated the room in a familiar clinical glow. Everything was exactly how you’d left it on Friday night. Your chair was somewhere across the room. The little trinkets and items that you kept on your desk were in a different spot than they had been after Law had scooped them up off the floor. The pens in your stationery cup were pointing in all sorts of directions, with some of them right-side up and others upside down.
And knowing the office as well as you did, you only saw evidence that something messy had occurred. You placed your things down and clocked in before donning gloves and arming yourself with sanitizing wipes.
You and Law cleaned up a fair bit before you left the building in tense silence, but the very memory and the heart-racing shame of it had you scrubbing the surface of your desk twice over.
You caught your reflection in the dark monitor just as your clock-in screen timed out.
What could have possibly possessed you to do that?
You pursed your lips, moving elsewhere in the office to begin your day.
***
At the very least, the schedule was back to normal. Nami was back in at the Kokoyashi office, so Law wasted no time in monopolizing your time again. You began your morning in the cath lab as if nothing in the world had changed since last week.
Law’s team hustled to get things prepared. You took your place at your monitor as usual, and when Law entered the room, he took up even more space than he typically did.
He was a magnet, always existing in your peripheral vision, his very presence bidding you to look his way. You kept him there in the corner of your eye, trying to avoid his gaze as you forced your hands to be steady.
It was the first time you’d seen him since last week, and no matter how hard you tried to go about things as usual, the weight of what you’d done together brought the room to a sobering gravity. You felt like you could hear everything, the bustle of papers, footsteps on tile. You could feel the way your gloves coated your hands, and the warmth of our own breath through your mask.
You could still feel his breath, too, from when he had whispered in your ear. The electricity where his fingers dug into your hips continued to spark every time you heard his voice. And most abhorrently, you could still feel the way he dripped out of you that night.
And now, the space between you was charged with a secret. You stood side by side, going through the motions of taking care of the patient under you. Law was a doctor you worked with, and now, things weren’t the same.
Law was different too, though not in a way that could be quite put into words. His scrutinizing gaze didn’t feel as heavy as it sleeted over you. He wasn’t softer—not him—nor any less icy than usual, but the cold that always surrounded him, like a snow globe, now felt less like a barrier. Somehow, you belonged inside it.
You forced professionalism, keeping your words curt and ignoring the way his hand nearly brushed against yours or that the shoulder of his scrubs grazed your elbow. He was too close. Far enough away for deniability, but too near to be unnoticeable.
You stood at your monitor, and Law worked right beside you. Shoulder to shoulder, attention wrapped up in your respective tasks.
That’s when you knew that things would never return to the way they’d been. You’d been toeing a line ever since you met, and on Friday, you finally crossed it. You weren’t colleagues anymore. You weren’t work enemies.
You didn’t know what you were.
And when the case wrapped, you lingered at your monitor a bit longer than necessary. The rest of the team was already beginning to trickle out of the room, talking about miscellaneous things and patting themselves on the back for a block well done.
But you stayed glued to your console, having felt a pair of eyes on you since the procedure started. The hum of the machinery around you had faded into little more than white noise.
Law’s presence already filled up a room as it was. His dark glare could freeze over any atmosphere, but now, he made the air between you feel as thick as jelly.
The door clicked shut.
You waited.
“You haven’t so much as looked at me all morning,” he remarked, his voice steady and calm. Law stood near the counter on the opposite side of the room.
“I’ve been busy,” you retorted, clicking through a few things on the monitor. You were double-checking things that didn’t need to be rechecked and scribing notes that didn’t need to be written.
He leaned the back of his hip against the counter.
“Busy,” he repeated, the slightest amused twinge forming at the corners of his lips. He let out a light chuckle to himself, crossing his arms over his chest as he glanced somewhere random in the room. “You’ve been busy…” he mused.
“Do you think this is funny?” You snapped toward him, realizing too late that you’d been trapped.
Because the moment you locked eyes with him, your breath hitched. Those damn golden eyes of his had pinned you down, piercing you right through the heart. A sudden pang reverberated in your chest as you found yourself stunned under his even gaze.
“Do you regret it?” he asked, his tone too even.
How could he be so calm about this? How could he just say things so bluntly after everything that happened?
The sheer need to avoid the question overwhelmed your frozen state. You tore your eyes away like you’d been shocked out of a trance.
Your stomach twisted.
This was so sick. You disliked Trafalgar Law just as much as every other entitled, arrogant doctor here. He was cocky, demanding, and thought he was god just as much as you’d expect from a newbie doctor. But you hadn’t been able to forget the memory of his skin on yours and the way his mouth tasted.
“I hate to break it to you,” he said, that tiny little smile still on his lips. He looked at you like you were a frog ready for dissection. “But no answer is an answer.”
“You’re an ass,” you spat.
“I think my original assessment was spot on,” Law mused, seeming to ignore you. “I think you crave being handled because it’s someone else taking responsibility and pressure out of your hands. And you know that I can handle you both mentally and physically.” His smirk only seemed to widen at the theory before he returned his gaze to you. “That’s why you’re so worked up over this.”
“I can’t even look at you,” you muttered, wrapping up your busywork to turn to leave.
Law stepped off from the counter, stepping toward the center of the room. He didn’t approach you or chase after you, staring in your direction instead.
“You don’t have to look at me,” he called from behind you, his voice just a tad louder than his normal speaking level. You made your second fatal mistake as you stopped, turning with a huff to glance back at him. Law appeared as self-assured as ever, hands shoved in his pockets as he regarded you casually. “Because thing is, I told you you didn’t have to—and yet, here you are, still looking.”
You turned on your heel, swiftly exiting the lab.
***
Unfortunately, now that you were back to your regularly scheduled programming, your day consisted heavily of Law’s patients. It was like a factory. Patients came and went from the rooms. You held your probe all the same. Gel, scan, adjust, rinse, repeat. You’d done this process a thousand times, your muscle memory carrying you through the day as you manage the patient flow.
If one thing returned to normal, it was Law standing behind you. He’d abandoned his station near the door, choosing to return to hovering over your shoulder. You couldn’t say which you disliked more: Law breathing down your neck or Law posted up menacingly by the door.
Although Law continued to make no commentary on your work, something you also weren’t sure you preferred over the ladder. Because at least before, your banter had filled the thick silence between you.
“The septal view is fine,” you retorted without a prompt. Your eyes were glued to your monitor. You could see it, those little fringe details you knew Law would be picky about, and you weren’t going to let him call it first.
Law paused for a moment.
“I didn’t say it wasn’t,” he said.
“Good,” you spat back, continuing your scan.
The patient, Mr. Rayleigh, chuckled faintly at the exchange. You stopped your scan at the first sign of movement artifact and then resumed it after the motion.
“It’s fine,” you muttered.
“I didn’t say it wasn’t,” Law repeated.
“So,” Rayleigh entered the conversation swiftly, not wasting a second. And perhaps both you and Law made the fatal mistake of tuning out a patient about to engage in small talk. “How long have you two been married?”
The question nearly made you fumble your probe.
“We are not married,” your response came quickly, accompanied by a shaken, disbelieving laugh. You couldn’t see Law’s face from where he stood behind you. “If I were married to him, I’d ask for a divorce.”
Law scoffed behind you.
“As long as I get custody of the lab in the separation,” he gruffed.
And you timed things perfectly, ending your scan just the second before Rayleigh laughed again. It hadn’t even been a conscious thought—just instinct.
“Sure coulda fooled me,” Rayleigh hummed. “You must work together a lot then.”
The very observation made your chest tighten, as if you were under the scrutiny of a magnifying glass. You forced a polite smile, trying to ignore the way your heart squeezed in your chest.
“Every day,” you sighed a little too quickly with just a little too much bite to pass off as a light-hearted joke.
“She knows how I want it done,” Law replied, his voice clipped and curt.
You glanced at him over your shoulder. He was already staring. Your gazes lingered on each other’s for a moment before you tore your attention back to the monitor.
***
When you exited, Chopper was passing by. He perked up, his laptop in the crook of his arm. After taking a few days of imaging patients, Chopper had more questions than ever. And on any other day, you’d be more than enthused about answering them.
“Oh wow!” he chirped with a sweet smile, “You guys are on a roll today!”
Law ignored him, rounding the corner out of the exam room and down the hall. You offered Chopper a polite smile.
“Gotta get through Monday somehow,” you breathed, ever used to substituting a cliche into a workplace conversation when you weren’t in the mood to talk. People ate it up every time.
“You’re tellin’ me!” he laughed, following you as you walked toward the pod. You had another patient coming in at any moment. It wasn’t worth trekking all the way back to imaging. “I hope I can be as good as you one day.”
He was such an angel.
Your smile turned genuine as you glanced his way.
“You know, when you’re running your own clinic, you won’t have to do the images,” you said, “You’ll probably have an echo tech of your own.”
Chopper turned to you, stopping just outside the pod. He had little dimples that creased his cheeks. Poor baby-faced thing, he was going to look young forever.
“Well, I hope I have a tech who works as well with me as you do with Dr. T!” he beamed. “You’re so in sync it’s kinda unbelievable.”
Law was sitting just inside the pod to Chopper’s left, facing away from you toward a computer. You noticed as the clicking of his mouse stilled for just a few seconds. You were sure no one else would have noticed, but you did.
And you wondered how people could see something between the two of you. The very thought made your skin crawl. Because they didn’t know, they couldn’t. There was no way anyone knew about what had happened in that exam room after the last scheduled patient on that day. No one could’ve possibly known about what happened after everyone had gone home just a few days ago.
And yet, every compliment toward you and Law felt like a direct jab. Like an accusation levied against her as to why you worked so well together. Before, it was a simple answer. You were the best. But now, things were blurred because it was precisely like Law said.
You handed control over.
And he took it.
And somehow, it felt as though he’d left a mark on you.
***
And Law didn’t appear to be bothered in the slightest.
If anything, he appeared to be the slightest bit energized… although it was apparent that this wasn’t because of you. No, you knew that much when you had rounded a corner and heard a laugh you didn’t recognize. You hadn’t thought much of it at first. It was a patient, you assumed, until you had glanced up. You did a double-take when you saw Law on the phone.
He was leaning up against the wall, laptop folded under his arm. His chin was slightly downturned as he smiled— like actually smiled, and not his usual grin that looked like he was about to rearrange your organs and not in a fun way. And when he laughed again, it wasn’t a cocky chortle or an arrogant hum. It was a real laugh.
Law sounded like a real man… who laughed and smiled normally at things. And it all made you wonder just who the hell was on the other side of that phone.
Law noticed you, his eyes drifting over, then away, before darting back in recognition.
“Hey, I’ve gotta go. But I’ll see you Wednesday,” he said, only pausing to listen for a beat before saying goodbye again and hanging up. He turned to you, the afterglow of the conversation causing the ghost of a smile to grace his lips. “Got something for me?” he asked with a certain nonchalant tone you weren’t used to from him.
You couldn’t help but freeze, glancing him up and down as your lips parted.
“Who was that?” you questioned, the words coming out as more of an accusation than you intended.
Law’s face didn’t fall, but it turned back to his neutral expression.
“Not something you need to be concerned about,” he said. “Did you need to talk about something?” he repeated, glancing from you to your equipment cart.
That was quite the loaded question.
You heaved a heavy breath.
“No, I don’t,” you gritted, before moving to your next patient.
***
Marco wasn’t someone you worked with often. He had been assigned to Hogback, who mainly worked out of Water 7 as his preferred location. He was there a few days a week, and Franky had been gracious enough to staff that location after Hogback had a few instances of inappropriate conduct with female staff members. Nothing ever came of the investigations, but it didn’t take a genius or a detective to clock Hogback as a creep immediately.
Just like how Hancock preferred a primarily female staff, Hogback usually ended up with a predominantly male staff. But ever since there had been a shift in fellow assignments, Marco had been surprisingly well accepted into Hancock’s fold while Niji and Yonji had been allocated to Hogback. You had wondered what the change was about, but after working with Marco yourself, you understood.
Marco was far more interested and dedicated to cardiology than Niji and Yonji appeared to be. The Vinsmoke brothers were only doing an extended rotation through cardiology while their interests lay somewhere else entirely. Marco, on the other hand, proved himself to be a rather respectful and dedicated student.
He wasn’t your average fellow. While he had his fair share of basic questions and needed guidance, as to be expected for his education level, he held himself similarly to a doctor with experience under his belt.
“You have that ‘I’ve done this a hundred times’ vibe,” you commended as you were coming out of an exam room together. “Should I trust it?” you joked, flashing him a playful look.
Marco laughed with a sheepish shrug.
“Let’s call it confidence by association,” he said with a dip of his lip. “I’m figuring it out as I go.”
“Hey, I hate to say it, but faking it until you make it goes a long way around here,” you offered, stopping at the pod. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re doing great. You’re putting in the work, and it really shows. I know it can be a lot.”
Marco dipped his head, a slight smile on his lips. He didn’t seem to be the type to know how to take a compliment.
“Tell me about it,” he breathed. “I think we all could take a load off.”
“You got that right,” you laughed, starting to trot off to your next stop.
Marco shifted awkwardly behind you.
“Hey, um,” he started, calling after you. You turned, brows slightly raised in attention. Marco stood a short way away, shifting as he tried to find words. “If you ever wanted to take a load off, some of the other fellows started these gatherings on the weekends. Someone’s got this cool rooftop spot and everyone on staff is usually invited,” he offered.
You flashed a polite smile.
“I’m not usually one for after-work things,” you admitted.
Marco didn’t seem to take it any sort of way, shrugging as his lip dipped.
“I thought I’d offer. Pretty sure they do it every weekend. So if you ever change your mind, I’m happy to give you the info.”
You continued your way down the hall, flashing him another polite nod.
“Will do! Thank you, Marco!” You waved before disappearing around the corner.
***
You weren’t awfully surprised when the day went as quickly as it did. You had forced yourself into the zone. With all the pent-up energy you had swirling inside you, you needed to feel productive in one way or another.
You ended your day with some outpatient cases. You got to stick to your own wing, utilizing your familiar workrooms and taking easy case after case until the day ended.
You lingered in your last room, leaning against the echo table. Everything had been sanitized and just about wrapped up, but you were putting off sending all the images through as you looked at your phone.
Sanji had texted you earlier in the morning, thanking you for the weekend. You hadn’t wanted to respond, but after all your thinking, you decided to challenge yourself. You looked at the phone screen like it was a clinical task, thumbs hovering over the keyboard.
Sanji was sweet and normal. You were going to like him. Because Sanji was uncomplicated, he pulled your chair out for you. He actually smiled when he saw you, and when it came to communicating his interest, there was no question.
And a reply to, “I had a great time yesterday :)” should have been absent-minded.
“Me too!” you typed and deleted.
“Yeah! Those waffles were no joke! Let’s go back—” you deleted before you even finished.
“I had such a great time. Free Saturday?” Deleted.
You covered your pursed lips with your hand, staring down at the conversation chain.
A knock came from the open doorway. You nearly jumped at the sound, shoving your phone in your pocket as if you’d been caught doing something you shouldn’t have. Law leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed as if he’d been watching you for a minute now.
“Thinking about texting him?” Law motioning his head in the general direction of your phone.
You fiddled with the hem of your scrub top, glancing off to the side.
“Thinking about it,” you admitted.
“You’ve been giving me the cold shoulder all day, but here you are, frames still pulled up and thinking about texting Vinsmoke back,” Law mused, the sharp edge of judgement in his voice deneniable, yet cool.
“Why? Are you jealous?” You didn’t look up, fishing your phone back out of your pocket. You glanced back at Sanji’s message. “Bored of taking your secret phone calls during clinic?”
Law shrugged, ignoring your last jab.
“Jealous? No,” Law answered boredly. “Just had a feeling it wouldn’t last long.”
You frowned.
“What? You don’t think the last name Vinsmoke would suit me?” you jabbed. You didn’t like it when he was right. You hated it. His entire profession revolved around him being God’s gift to cardiology—he didn’t need to clock your relationship with Sanji. And you desperately wanted to prove him wrong.
Law rolled his head back for it to rest against the doorframe. His brows bobbed.
“I’m just saying I wouldn’t get too hung up on texting back. I’m sure he’s used to it,” Law said. He might as well have yawned. “Vinsmoke casts a big net.” Law busied himself picking a piece of fuzz off his coat.
“What are you talking about?” Your mouth ran dry.
Law glanced up at you with barely feigned mock surprise.
“Oh, you didn’t know?” he hummed, piercing your gaze with his, “Vinsmoke is a notorious flirt. He’ll chase anything with a skirt and a badge… or without a skirt and a badge.” Law picked at something on his cuticle. “Everyone knows that.”
“Heh, just like how everyone apparently knows that the fellows throw a rager every weekend on some rooftop,” you scoffed, despite your fingers freezing over the keyboard. You slowly turned the screen off, slipping your phone back into your pocket for the second time. “I don’t mind an outgoing guy. Beats an office hermit with no social skills.”
“He didn’t tell you about the date he went on with Charlotte Pudding this past Saturday?” Law scrutinized, still feigning indifference. “That wasn’t a conversation topic over your brunch?”
You rolled your eyes.
“I’m dating a fisherman. So what?” you retorted with narrowed eyes. “It’s not like we’re exclusive. I fucked you, didn’t I?”
You hadn’t intended for it to come out as poisonous as it did like a volley of sharp icicles, sharp, dangerous, cold. You continued to stare him down, waiting for a reaction.
But Law didn’t flinch once. He stood, leaned against the doorframe, arms still folded. He didn’t move. He didn’t speak. Law just held your gaze as you detected the faintest tightening of his jaw.
“Yeah… You fucked me…” Law said, and when he spoke, his voice was a low, slow whisper. “You think I care if you spread your legs for Vinsmoke?” Law glanced you over, dragging his eyes over you, his nose crinkling the slightest bit in disgust. “Go ahead. See how far he gets before you get bored.”
“Maybe I want a gentleman, not some heartless experiment in what happens when nobody raises you right,” you snapped, and the moment the words left your mouth, you knew they were the wrong ones. 𓊹𓊹𓊹
Law’s face didn’t change much, but the temperature in the room plummeted. Your words hung in the air with more weight than you intended. The silence was sharp.
And then, he laughed. The single noise drove a lethal warning through your chest. You instinctively stepped back, feeling the echo table preventing you from moving farther.
Law stepped inside the room, closing the door after him. His eyes were amused, his lips forming the ghost of an entertained smile. He didn’t appear angry, but his attention was razor-focused on you.
“Say that again,” he goaded. A sharp glint cut through his stare.
You swallowed hard, your heart racing into a panic as you watched Law reach for the nitrile gloves. He plucked a pair of large ones from the top box, slipping them unceremoniously over his hands like he was preparing for a procedure. He let them snap against his wrists.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it,” you sputtered.
Law was on you in an instant, crossing the exam room in just two wide strides as you fell back onto the exam table. He didn’t say a thing, stepping on the control pedal on the floor to raise the table and plucking your transducer from the holder on your equipment cart.
“You didn’t mean it,” he mused. Your pulse skipped as he took the probe’s cord in his hands, wrapping it around his fist like a whip. Your eyes widened, darting from the wire to Law’s face.
“Law… We can’t just—”
You tried jumping down from the table, but Law was too quick. He stepped in front of you before you even made it off, lodging his thigh between your legs. The head of your probe tilted your chin up, forcing your eyes to meet his.
“You wanted a gentleman,” he muttered, tilting his head slightly to the side. He dragged the head of the probe up, bringing your chin to an awkward angle. “What you’re getting is me.”
Law pinned you with that same amused look in his eyes, the slightest smirk on his lips as he turned his attention to the instrument in his hands.
Sterile. Familiar. Precious. Yours.
“Funny,” Law mused, almost talking to himself as he turned it over in his palm. He pulled back just slightly, still trapping you on the exam table as he inspected the label on the probe. “You told me you’ve been using this for years… Your years of experience, you said. You’ve probably used this on hundreds of patients at least. Taught those fellows with it—”
“You’re not going to—”
“Oh, you think this is negotiable?” Law pinched the probe where the end met the cord, letting it fall forward between your collarbones. He dragged the head down between your breasts, his eyes dipping as it went. “I let you mouth off and yell at me and get away with being impossible in my clinic. And then you fucked me and walked off like nothing happened, apparently.”
You tried to close your thighs, scooting back on the table to escape him, but Law gripped your knee and shoved your legs back apart.
“So let’s make it nothing,” he hissed, forcing the head of the probe up against your clit through your scrub pants. “You wanted to provoke me? You wanted to test me and see what I’d do? Congratulations. You succeeded.”
An unmistakable damp spot had already formed at the crotch of your pants. Law turned the probe in his hands, driving the head to your most sensitive spot.
“I had a little theory that arguing actually got you off,” he chuckled to himself, his eyes glued to the probe and the growing wetness evident on the fabric below. “You’re ruining your scrubs for me, and I’ve barely even touched you.” Law drove the probe just right, watching you cringe as you bit your lip. “I should stop now and make you walk around like this. But we both know you don’t want me to stop.”
You turned your head away.
This was sick. So sick. Being in an exam room like this. Using the equipment. You hated how it made your heart flutter.
Law gripped your cheeks in one hand, scrunching your face in his firm grip as he forced you to meet his gaze.
“Eyes on me, sweetheart. You’re the one who wanted attention so bad.”
Law allocated the probe to one hand, looping his thumbs in the waistband of your pants. He pulled your pants and ruined panties out from under you like a cloth from a table, letting the inside-out ensemble hang from your one ankle.
The probe head immediately went back to your clit. Your skin was already burning like you were an ant under a microscope. And slowly, Law lowered the probe head until it poked at your drenched entrance.
Fuck, you were soaked. You were more wet than you cared to admit. Law had you in one of your exam rooms, about to fuck you with your own equipment, and you were dribbling onto the table.
“No… You wouldn’t—” you whimpered. You could feel how wide your own eyes were. You stabilized yourself by gripping Law’s arm, your legs still spread. It wasn’t him you were mortified with. It was the situation that you found yourself in yet again, and more specifically, how much you liked it. “You’re crazy. You’re fucking insane,” you rambled, not even sure if you were talking to him at that point.
Law bullied the head of the probe into you, the pathetic whine he drew out of you, betraying your resolve. The tip of the probe wasn’t thin. It had a head that was swiftly swallowed by your heat.
“Maybe it would be,” Law muttered, his eyes locked onto where the rest of the probe poked out from you. He held onto the bottom of it, not moving in or out. He looked up to meet your mortified expression, the corner of his lips hooking upward as he leaned to speak directly into your ear. “If you weren’t grinding on it like a filthy fucking slut.”
He pressed it deeper, savoring the moan that tore out of your throat. You leaned your head against his, already beginning to grow delirious from the intense pressure between your thighs. Your cheek brushed up against Law’s, your temples touching as you were forced to lean back on your palms.
He smothered you with cold heat, overwhelming your senses with an intensity you weren’t sure you could handle. The probe barreled in and out of you, a hard plastic rubbing against every inch of your soft walls. You could feel the familiar shape of it inside you. The cord smacked against the side of the table and whipped around your ankle. And the pure, filthy reality of what was happening made you clench. Law let out a breathy laugh into your ear.
“You’re not denying it. You’re not telling me to stop. No, you’re not a tech anymore. You’re not even a colleague or a person, are you? You’re just a filthy, dripping cunt getting off on hospital equipment.”
You could feel his smirk against your face, but a blissful numbness was beginning to overtake your skin. Law hooked his arm under one of your knees, tilting your body to expose you more to his brutal onslaught against your sore pussy. You trembled, trying to shift your hips to keep the unceasing momentum off your most sensitive spot.
“Please— Law, sir— Please— I can’t—”
“No, no, no… You don’t get to run from it.” Law grabbed you by the hip, pinning you open as he fucked the probe in and out of you furiously. It made an obscene wet noise as it did, only overshadowed by your shaky gasps. You didn’t want to moan. You didn’t want to give in and reveal how fucking close you were. Law growled in your ear, “You’re gonna cum for me just like this. Humiliated. Exposed. Owned. I want you dripping down the cord of your own fucking equipment while you thank me for ruining you.”
He pulled away from you to watch your face. Law looked like he was on the knife’s edge of restraint, his expression calm and his posture calculated. But his goddamn eyes. You watched as his pupils dilated, growing slightly larger and smaller as he observed the desperation on your face draw tension around your cheeks.
“What do you think everyone would think, huh?” Law drove the probe in deeper, finally drawing a sharp cry from your lips. Your legs shook hard. “If they saw the North’s perfect little know-it-all fucked open on her own probe? Do you even hear how wet you are? And over the filthiest fucking thing I could do to you? God, you’re such a good little whore.”
“Please—” you whimpered.
Law continued to drag the probe over your sensitive areas. He wasn’t holding back. He wasn’t trying to be gentle in the slightest. He kept a punishing pace as pressure began to build up in your stomach.
“Please what?” he spat, narrowing his eyes at you.
You turned away, closing your eyes.
“Please let me cum…” You whined, your voice barely above a whisper.
And then the pace of the probe slowed. It dragged, keeping just enough pressure to keep you on the edge of climax. You could feel how drenched you had made yourself by the feeling of the air alone. The undersides of your knees were clammy with sweat. You could feel your scrub top sticking to your skin.
‘You’re going to have to do a lot better than that,” Law snarked.
“Please, sir—! Please let me cum!” you sobbed, the plea coming from your throat with no further prompting. Law continued to smile his cruel smirk as you began to shatter against him. “I’m sorry, sir— I won’t text him! I won’t bring him up ever again! Please— I’ll be good!”
Genuine tears were beginning to prickle in your eyes, not because you were in pain, but from the sheer humiliating and overwhelming input that overrode your nerves.
“Oh, you’ll be good?” Law purred, “You’re done being a little brat? You’re gonna be a good little echo slut? A good little lab pet?” he cooed mockingly.
“Please, please, please, please…” You whimpered under your breath, repeating the word like a prayer. Law was already staring at you when you looked up, like he hadn’t taken his eyes off you for a second. Not a hair was out of place on him. His coat was still as neat as ever. “I’ll be a good little echo slut, your lab pet— I swear, anything, please let me cum!”
He yanked your chin up, not letting you escape his scathing stare for a second. A dark storm whipped behind his eyes.
“You won’t be able to ever hold this probe again without thinking about me and what I did to you here,” he chuckled darkly, never looking away, “This is my little gift to you, baby. You’ll never be able to look at another doctor, teach another resident, or scan another patient again without thinking of this. Cum. Be a good lab pet and cream all over your own probe.”
And you did. God, you did.
You weren’t even thinking about anything anymore except for the heat between your legs. A broken scream spilled from your lips as you squeezed around the probe and jerked against Law’s firm grip. He pinned you, forcing you to ride it out against the cold, clinical tool. You gasped as the aftershocks made your sobs into ragged, gasping pleas.
And when you were just fucked out enough, and just wrecked enough for Law’s liking, he pulled the probe out suddenly, tossing it aside onto a tray before he slid his gloves off like he’d just finished a routine procedure. He left you spread out on the table, chest heaving, legs hanging over the edge above the floor. Your scrub top stuck to your skin, and Law looked like nothing had happened.
“Still breathing?” Law shrugged off his coat, hanging it on one of the hooks by the door. He had peeled his gloves off, disposing of them in the waste bin. His hand was on his belt. “Good. I’m not finished.”
You propped yourself up on your elbows. Your pulse still hadn’t come down. You were still so dazed.
“What—?”
“I allowed you to cum. That doesn’t mean we’re stopping.”
The clink of his belt filled the room with a sharp finality. His hands gripped your hips, bringing you back to the edge of the table. He flipped you around. You stood on your toes, bent over the table.
“Law— What if someone—?”
“You’re worried about whether someone sees? Hears?” You leaned forward, just barely able to stand due to the height of the table and how far Law had you bent over it. You let out a whimper as Law’s strong hands spread your ass, his hot tip pressing up against the folds of your cunt. Law let out another breathy laugh. “Then they’ll find you spread out like the newest equipment demo. What you should really be worried about is me.”
Law slid into you in an instant, bottoming out with a ferocity that drew a sharp gasp from your lips.
“Ah—! Law— Fuck! Ah!” you cried, arching your back, clawing at the table to keep you grounded as he drilled into you.
“Go ahead,” Law growled as he pounded into you. His fingers dug into your hips, angling you just the right way to bully into your drenched cunt. “Go ahead and act all high and mighty tomorrow. I dare you—brat off in my lab. Throw yourself at Vinsmoke for all I care. You’re mine. Dripping for me. Ruined by me.”
He rutted into you with a vengeance. You could barely hold yourself up. You could barely find your balance as each stroke of his thick cock left you delirious. He hit even deeper than he did at your desk, and with his hands keeping you in a vice grip, there was no escaping his relentless onslaught.
You heard the clink of metal from somewhere next to you. You turned your head to see the probe in Law’s hands. You immediately tried to push off the table with your hands, but one press to the center of your back had you smacking back down to the table as Law continued to fuck into you.
“Wait! What are you—?”
“Shut up.”
One hand gripped a clump of your hair as close to the roots as possible, forcing your head back as Law brought the ruined probe to your lips. It was still slick. Used.
“Open your fucking mouth,” he commanded with a hiss. “I want you choking.”
Law forced the probe over your tongue. The entire surface tasted of you, the bitter, musky flavor of your own cum filling your senses. Law shoved the probe to the back of your throat, leaving it there as his hand went back to your hip. His fingers still had a death grip on your hair as he forced you back onto his cock.
“Keep it in your mouth,” he growled. Your body jerked, overstimulated and overwhelmed as you sobbed around the plastic. You collapsed on the table, your limbs like jelly as his length completely dominated every inch of you. “God, look at you. Gagging on a probe while I fuck you like the little fucktoy you are. You’ve got no attitude when you’ve got dick in you, now don’t you, sweetheart? Maybe I’ll jump straight to this the next time you want to mouth off.”
The walls of your cunt were twitching around him, squeezing as heat coiled up inside you again.
“Oh, you like that. You like when I talk to you like the echo slut you are.” His hand left your hair, focusing on angling your hips to hit that angle just right. And when he did, you screamed around the probe, clawing at the table under you as he drilled you over and over. He was so deep. “He’d never fuck you like this, and you know it. You don’t want a gentleman. You don’t want the door held open for you. You don’t even want to have sex. You want to be fucked and used until that pretty little head turns off.”
“Law— Please, I’m yours!” you cried, voice muffled. You couldn’t think. You could barely get his name out. And then, a sob tore out from around the plastic, your hips jolting as you came harder than you’d ever had in your entire life. You were crying, gagging, shaking, clenching around his hot, thick length inside you.
Law felt it— the way you squeezed around him, shook under him— and something in him snapped. He ripped the probe from your lips, drawing out for only a fraction of a second to flip you over. He held you up, eyes locked onto your puffy, fucked out, tear-stained face. His thrusts somehow roughened, becoming erratic as he held you close, pressing his forehead against yours.
“Fuck— You are mine,” he groaned, “Say it— say it again— say you’re mine—”
“I’m yours,” you whimpered, dazed. “I’m yours. I’m yours.”
He thrust in deep once, twice, then he buried himself at the hilt to grind up and spill into you. The sound that ripped from his throat was a half-snarl, half-moan as he closed his eyes, forehead still pressed up against yours. And he stayed there, still grinding against you the slightest bit as he rode out his high. His fingers were still pressed into your hips, his hands trembling from the sheer intensity of holding you down as he emptied himself inside you.
You continued to shake as the silence went on. You tried to move, but Law held you in place. You panted, trying to catch your breath. 𓊹
“This was an accident,” you tried to excuse, shaking your head, “This was a mistake… We’re a mistake… Things just got out of hand.” Your words were halfhearted. You didn’t believe them, and you were sure that Law didn’t for a second.
Law breathed out, pulling back just enough to meet your tired gaze. He was unshaken, as cool and steady as always. His voice was calm and terrifyingly confident.
“Not a mistake,” he said, almost like a verdict. His golden eyes stared into yours. “An inevitability.”
His words made your breath hitch. It felt solid, or at the very least, a confirmation that you weren’t the only one who was feeling this way. And when he helped you clean up in silence and told you, “We’ll talk about it,” you believed him.
Mistakes. Mistakes. Inevitabilities.
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
Tag List: @aveocadeo @augustanna @starzbrii @sporkslol @r3nstar @chillerkiller @weepingjudgediplomatbasketb-blog @notbleachtea @yunloyal @valval08 @qui-sap @vilemint @all-mights-wife @breakingthebank13
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: 200 note goal? That sounds fair. I low-key need a beta reader but I'm too stubborn to commit to it
