#ship:lawna

[kiikoku]

a kiss muffled by laughter in a library, hidden away among the shelves. ( nami )

“Shh. Someone’s going to hear you.”

Law has his finger to his lips, but the effect falls flat thanks to the little smile on his face. He’s got Nami backed against a shelf in a lesser inhabited part of the library, but they can still hear the click of shoes on floors and the turning of pages from nearby patrons. He’s pressed close enough to her that they’re sharing body heat and he can feel warm puffs of Nami’s breath against his face as he leans over her.

Cheekily, Law dives in and presses a kiss to her collar, and a couple to her neck for good measure. It pulls more soft giggles, like music to his ears, from her; just as expected, just as he wanted. He knows the skin there is sensitive. He’s stirring her up for the hell of it, pulling soft laughter from her purely because he loves the lilt of it and because there’s something a little…thrilling about this that excites him.

“Oi. What did I just say?” He whispers, a grin apparent in his voice, lips still brushing against Nami’s neck but trailing higher. He mouths over the curve of her jaw and up to her petal-soft lips. “Quiet. You’ll get us caught.” He says quietly before sealing them in a kiss, a hand on her cheek cradling Nami’s face.

[kiikoku]

continued from here with @spiritmarking

The moment their crews parted ways, Law missed her. He laid awake, preoccupied with thoughts of soft skin, quick wit and mischevous smiles, and the distant scent of fresh tangerines. Sometimes he simply yearned for her, closed his eyes and imagined she was curled into his side, that he had company on sleepless nights in his quarters, or pretended she was huddled with him under a blanket on watch duty. Other times his thoughts were less savoury, and a hand would trail beneath the waistband of his sleep pants as he pictured her, her body, how it felt pressed to his and the pleasure only they could pull from each other. It wasn't the same, but it got him through to when their crews crossed paths again. Luckily, as their navigator, Nami had the power to change the Thousand Sunny’s course in the direction of the island Law conveniently mentioned over the transponder snail line they would soon be docking at.

It had been hell getting through his captainly duties and the usual harassment from the other Straw Hats until he and Nami could finally get time alone together. While their crews mingled and drank and laughed, Law tugged Nami away and Shambled them to his quarters, too impatient to lead her there by foot. He wastes no time, pushing her onto his unmade bed, shoving a book to the floor as he climbs above her. He drags his hand up her thighs and over her hips, fingers cool but not cold against the warmth of her flesh.

"I missed you," He whispers and presses the first of many kisses to her cheek, across her jaw and down to that spot he knows is ticklish. Her giggles make his heart, already fluttering in his chest, skip a beat. "I missed you so much, Nami."

There's a smile that hadn't left his face since the moment he realised he had the opportunity to steal her away, a rare genuine smile from him. Not mocking or smarmy but playful and happy, so glad to have her in his arms again. Her legs wrap around him and lock him in place, as if he was at any risk of parting from her. After showering her with what he deemed to be an appropriate number of kisses, he pulls his head away from her neck, looking down at her. She's like a goddess in his messy sheets, ginger hair framing her pretty face so beautifully, and he wants to steal her away and keep her at his side forever. He leans in, pressing his mouth to hers, eyes falling closed as he gets lost in the petal softness of her lips, kissing her slow and gentle.

[kiikoku]

Nami's skirt is short enough she's not sure it can qualify as a skirt in most places, but she doesn't care. The white leopard print is very particular, a similar pattern to the hat on his head (that she'll never admit to how much time she spent hunting down.) She leans against the side of the ship, waiting like a cat for her prey -- as much as she'd prefer to be his -- eyes alight.

Law was pretty sure he was frustrated when he made his way back to the Polar Tang, having spent the whole day fulfilling the duties of being a captain, counting and recounting stock and making estimations of what they would need to make it through to the island after this one. Arguing with his crew over what did and didn’t count as a necessity. The works. When he walks down to the dock, it’s finally, blessedly quiet. His crew is scattered across the island, enjoying their shore leave, and there’s a certain red head leaning against his ship…in a tiny piece of black-spotted white fabric that is awfully familiar and…well, he easily shoves aside his agitation.

The skirt (if you could even call it that, it covers very little of Nami’s lovely thighs) is tight, short, and his mind doesn’t need to do much work to fill in the details. It also bears the same pattern as his hat and damn, that does something to his head. It’s like she was signalling to him, calling out for the attention he had been neglecting her of. The Straw Hats were only on this island thanks to her sneakily adjusting their course after Law had dropped a hint as to where his own crew was heading, and he had been too busy captaining his crew to spend even a moment with her yet. That was about to change. He stalks across the docks, straight up to her and meets her intense, bright gaze head on. His eyes keep flicking down to the hem of the skirt, though. Law leans against the metal side of his own ship and reaches out, resting his hand on Nami’s hip.

“People are going to think you’re trying to catch my eye if you walk around in things like this,” He teases lightly, thumb sneaking under the bottom of her top and rubbing little circles into her skin. He has a little smirk on his lips, admiring the shape of her body where the fabric clings, the pattern that was clearly picked out just for him. “Between you and me though…I don’t think you’re going to make it far onto the island tonight…”

He leans in, nosing the side of her head, breathing in the scent of ocean spray and tangerines from her hair. Whispers into her ear;

“Come aboard with me?”

[kiikoku]

continued from here with @spiritmarking

He knows their time together is short. He knows that when they go their own way--Nami with Luffy to wrangle the Straw Hat cook back to the crew, and Law with his own men and a handful of tag-alongs to Wano, he will miss her dearly. Despite this, he lets Nami guide him deeper into the forest, lets her pull him to rest together in a nest of soft grass and leaf litter. A voice in the back of his head tells him he shouldn't, because it'll make the journey to Wano that much longer, that much more agonising, but as soon as Law's head is in Nami's lap, he manages to quiet it. It's much easier for his mind to slow down on the pillow of her thighs and with her soft hands against his skin.

He doesn't miss the look that passes over her face at the sight of the new scars on his body. It feels strange when she touches the gnarled flesh where Law's arm had been reattached to his body--it doesn't hurt, but it doesn't not hurt either. Scar tissue often forms addtional nociceptors, his brain helpfully supplies. This causes sensitivity and discomfort. There's no explanation for the way the look on her face when she traces it makes his heart clench, though--he might specialise in the physical matters of the heart, but the emotional aspects are yet to be understood by him. Out of his scope. As Nami cups his cheek, Law reaches up and lets the knuckle of his index finger graze the side of her face.

"...you wouldn't have wanted to see me like that," Is all he has to say, voice quiet, hand moving to caress her pretty face. Law had spent the last 16 years of his life fueled by ugly revenge and seething rage, the better part of that directed at Doflamingo, and it had all come to head in Dressrosa. He also could think of few things worse than having Nami witness him riddled with wounds from lead bullets and missing an arm. He was grateful she hadn't been there to see him in such a state. His thumb brushes her cheek idly, molten gold of his eyes growing ever softer as he stared up into hers. "...I'm sorry. That I made you worry so much about me. For what it's worth, though, I don't think that boneheaded captain of yours would allow me to die." He offers, in an attempt to lighten the mood.