Personal Note: Hey! These are the links to all my One Piece fics grouped up in one place so that they are easy to find! Happy reading... Requests are open! No restrictions. I would prefer if you actually left your account name visible, so I can get in touch with you about your request if needed - if not it is totally fine, but it just makes it easier. Please give me ideas, my brain can only work so hard (╥﹏╥)
Restless Nights | Synopsis: You can’t stop reading even though it is the middle of the night. Law finally gets fed up and gets you to put your book down and sleep ૮꒰˶´ ˘ `˶꒱ა
Relax, Already | Synopsis: Your Captain always overworks himself, sometimes he just needs to relax. You and Bepo are the perfect combination to finally ease his tense shoulders and get him to kick back for once. ૮꒰˶´ ˘ `˶꒱ა
Inexperienced | Synopsis: You and Law have been together for weeks but something is lacking - your sex life. Let’s fix that… the only problem he is painfully inexperienced. You can fix that ;) (Needy, Inexperienced Law) (⸝⸝⸝O﹏ O⸝⸝⸝) ૮꒰˶´ ˘ `˶꒱ა
Zoro
Four-Sword Style | Synopsis: You spar with Zoro and he teaches you about his four-sword style. (⸝⸝⸝O﹏ O⸝⸝⸝)
Empty Spaces | Synopsis: Dinnertime madness from Luffy and the crew but there is a storm brewing in your mind. You've just lost your cat and Zoro comforts you. ૮꒰˶´ ˘ `˶꒱ა (◞‸◟,)
I’m just going to leave this here teehee (Law whimpering tiktok) https://vm.tiktok.com/ZNRGNyM42/
This is long - I may have gotten a bit carried away icl. Inexperience, needy Law fuels me.
Synopsis: You and Law have been together for weeks but something is lacking - your sex life. Let’s fix that… the only problem he is painfully inexperienced. You can fix that ;) (Needy Law / SMUT / MDNI - you have been warned)
Warnings: Oral, smut, self pleasure idek just general sexy time things lol.
Word Count: 4203 lol
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The Polar Tang is moored at a new island, the crew having just dispersed to obtain new supplies and enjoy some much needed rest and relaxation. Law has stayed behind, cooped up broodily in his office as per usual. There are piles of research materials spread across his desk - maps, medical journals, and articles, anything worth looking at.
You stayed back too, though your reasons are anything but academic. You originally planned to do some shopping with Ikkakku, but you have more important matters to attend to... Aka your sex life - or lack thereof. You and Law have been happily together for weeks now, so why on gods-green-earth has he not shown any interest in anything more than making out? You’ve put it down to the crew constantly being around, and the fact that he probably gets more sexually aroused over his research than he ever will a woman. God forbid you take him away from his work.
You find him exactly where you knew you would, in his office, with his mind completely engrossed in a complex diagram. His brows are furrowed and his forehead creased; the scratching of his pen is the only echoing sound in the submarine.
Law’s head snaps up as the door opens. He is slightly taken aback to find you standing there, as he had assumed you would be out having fun with the rest of the crew. You are wearing an outfit he has never seen you in before and it shows off way more skin than usual. Although the change is not unwelcome, it catches him off guard. The revealing get-up is phase one of your master plan.
His gaze lingers on you for a moment, moving down your body and admiring the sight of your exposed skin, before his face moulds into neutral curiosity. “What are you still doing here?”
“Decided to stay back, I’m sure the others can get everything we need without me.”
You lean against the door frame slightly, and his eyes flicker down again as he notices the way the fabric clings to every tantalising curve. A slow realisation finally dawns on his face, and he sets his pen down with a click to turn his full, undivided attention to you.
“I see,” he says, tone dropping lower and a bit of its usual cold, calculated expression disappears.
“Thought we could have some alone time.”
Suggestive. Bold. You want to see what he does with your insinuation.
The submarine is quiet around you both as Law processes the implied invitation. His eyes roam over your body unabashedly now, looking to see if you mean what you say. Finding no hint of a joke, he swallows hard and nods slowly. “Alone time, huh?" He repeats.
You walk over and perch on the corner of his desk, the way his eyes linger on your body with a heat you’ve never seen before gives you confidence.
“Mhm, that is what I said.”
He has fixed his attention on you in its entirety now - the way you are perched so provocatively on his desk. The smell of your perfume - sweet and vanilla - drifts towards him. He leans back in his chair to observe the situation. "And what precisely did you have in mind during this... alone time?"
“Just spending some quality time together, anything you want to do?” You are goading him, trying to entice him into showing some initiative. After all, you aren't doing all the hard work…
He is nothing if not perceptive; he gets the hint - the outfit, the deliberate way that you position yourself. His eyes darken with understanding, and he takes a full breath, then one more. His gaze finally meets yours and his tone is now at a whisper. "I think we both know what you came here for." He is testing the waters.
He extends his hand forward, offering it out to you, eyes probing yours, wanting confirmation that this is your intent and he is not mistaken. You take his hand and slide into his lap, settling onto his thighs as his breath catches in his throat. His hands instinctively grip your hips to steady you. His cheeks flush faintly, and the stoic Captain looks remarkably young.
"I've... never done this before." He can’t control the words that hurriedly fall out of his mouth, slightly panicked and so unlike him.
It clicks. The confidence from before had all been a facade. His life has been so undyingly devoted to revenge rather than romance; it isn’t that he doesn’t want you - he is just inexperienced in how to want you. Relief washes over you instantly. He is a man accustomed to dissecting the human body but uncertain how to deal with the actual living, breathing one pressed against him.
“Really?” It is the only reply you can think of in your shock.
He nods in a way that doesn't hide his vulnerability. His hands remain on your hips, thumbs lightly tracing circles on your skin. “I mean, I am aware of the basic practices..."
“What with being a doctor and all, I would hope so,” you joke, trying to lighten the mood and make him feel more comfortable.
He chuckles softly, the sound creating a vibration that travels through his chest. "Theory is quite different from practice," he admits as his hands slide to your waist. Your skin is so soft, and he would be lying if he didn’t admit to the way his body is yearning for your touch. "I understand the human body, but... I just don't know how to... handle a person like this."
“Want me to show you?”
Your suggestion hangs in the air, as his throat bobs and he swallows. His grip on your waist tightens ever so slightly. The surgeon of death, the man who could remove internal organs blindfolded and take the hearts of one hundred pirates, is left uncertain. He nods slowly, his forehead almost touching yours. You can feel his breath fan across your face as you both stare at each other.
"Yes.” It’s nearly inaudible and it catches slightly in his throat.
“You're sure?” You ask, brushing your fingers lightly down his arm. “Because we don’t have to, if you don’t want to. We can wait.”
Your heads are practically touching now, and he nods against your forehead. Your breaths mingle as he confirms, “I… trust you.”
The words linger heavily between you, and your heart swells up with love for the man before you.
"Teach me,” he murmurs, and you don’t hesitate before going in for a searing kiss. It leaves you both panting; it’s sweet yet forceful.
You draw back ever so slightly, “not here then. I mean, as much as I’d love to do it here, I think maybe your bedroom is more practical…” You get up from his lap, this time offering him your hand.
You watch as his eyes widen slightly at your suggestion, cheeks turning an even darker shade at whatever mental image your words are cooking up for him. He takes your hand without hesitation, letting you pull him to his feet and guide him to his room.
He isn’t speaking as you lead him through the corridor, and you decide again to ease the mood with humour, “I can't believe it was this easy to pry you from your office, miracles really do happen.”
A faint, sheepish smile touches his lips. "Don't get used to it."
“You are like a hermit crab cooped up in there day in and day out.”
He chuckles at your babbling before pushing open his bedroom door and stepping aside to let you enter first. “After you.”
“What a gentleman.”
The door clicks shut behind you both, sealing you in. Law stands awkwardly, just inside, suddenly not knowing what to do with his hands - they flop uselessly at his sides.
“So…” he starts and then stops, as if he thinks better of it.
“It’s fine, we don’t have to rush this,” you say smoothly, reassuring him.
He nods, relieved and takes another deep breath. He is nervous. You can tell.
You pull him over to the bed and motion for him to sit on the cushy mattress. His eyes widen slightly at your assertiveness, but he complies without a second thought, sitting down on the edge of the bed. His back is ramrod straight, and you can just tell he is so pent up - it’s killing you. His legs are slightly parted, his hands resting splayed out on his thighs - he looks like a patient awaiting examination, instead of a lover awaiting pleasure. The scene would be almost comical if you didn’t care so much about this man.
“Law, baby, you’re so tense. Try to relax a little.”
You crawl onto the bed behind him, and instead of doing anything remotely sexual, you begin to massage his shoulders. Your gentle touch makes him melt backwards, a soft sigh leaving him as you work out a knot. “Feels good, yeah? You are so pent up, you need to give yourself time to wind down.”
He nods slowly, his head dropping forward to give you better access as his tense muscles begin to release under your skilled touch. He’s never had someone be so intimate with him before. It is quiet times like this that he really cherishes - you provide a safety net, enabling him to let his guard down in your presence. Another sigh escapes his lips, and you know you are succeeding at relaxing him.
You lean in and kiss his neck tentatively, seeing how he will react. His breath gets caught, bubbling up in his throat. He feels a shiver tingle all the way down his spine. A rumble vibrates through his chest, halfway between a hum and a groan of approval, praising you. His eyes slide shut, and all tension melts from his frame. Your lips are tantalising, teasing his neck between the soft rubs of your fingers.
"I could get used to this,” he moans out.
“Could you now?” You finish up massaging the knots on his shoulders, “now let’s get rid of this”. You help him remove his shirt, reaching around to pull the fabric over his head. His bare chest is toned, but not too defined - subtly muscular. He looks down at himself, feeling oddly vulnerable, but you smile at him reassuringly. “Lie on your back for me, baby.”
The term of endearment makes his heart flutter, and he obeys, lying back on the bed. He is surprisingly compliant, as he stares up at you with those dark eyes, pupils wide. You can tell he is trying to process it all, all the sensations racing through his body and mind. “Like this?”
“Just like that, you are doing so well.” You straddle his waist, leaning over him as you take in his bare chest. His breathing is shallow, and his hands hover, uncertainly beside him - like he is not sure where to touch and put them. He is quite submissive before you, and it almost makes you laugh to see him like this. Having him all vulnerable before you is a foreign sight, one you want to see more often.
"I... don't know what to do with my hands."
You grasp his hands in yours. “You don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to, but we could start with this?” You guide his hands to your waist, and he reaches out fumbling but gripping you with care.
He watches you as you slowly lift your shirt up and over your head, revealing your chest and gentle curves. His eyes linger, hands tightening slightly.
“See something you like?” Your playful demeanour is back, and he flushes, looking away, but you guide his face back to you, your thumb resting on his chin.
“You are teasing me,” he mumbles begrudgingly, but doesn’t move away this time.
His facial hair tickles your fingers as you go down for a kiss. He kisses you back, like you are precious. His hands slowly slide up from your waist to your ribs. He is so careful and tentative, cautious of making a mistake.
You let one hand play with his hair, kissing him again more passionately, and he melts into it. He moves into your touch so freely, letting off a low, vibrating hum against your lips. Your fingers thread into his hair, and his entire body goes pliant beneath you, ready to be bent to your every whim.
His hands flex against your ribs, “I… I like that,” he murmurs against your mouth.
You can feel the bulge in his pants against your thigh, and you look down and giggle slightly. “I can tell.”
He flushes darkly again. His head falls back against the pillows in embarrassment. "That's... not something I can control," he admits, eyes squeezing shut. He has never been one to be so openly vulnerable, but with you, well, he thinks he can try. He is hard and needy beneath you, his walls crumbling.
“It’s okay. I’m just joking,” you comfort, leaning down to kiss his neck. He gasps as your lips make contact, his hips buck up slightly, pressing his hardness against your thigh.
“Mmm….”
“All you need to do is lie there, okay? Have me give the orders for once.” You trail your hand down to rub against his hard length, and he visibly shudders, body jerking again at your touch. He swallows hard as he watches your small hands move up against him through his pants.
"Understood," he breathes out, his delivery going down an octave. He forces his hands to unclench from your waist, and he moves them to rest loosely above his head. You continue to feel around, he is huge there, long and thick - something catches in your throat.
You pepper feather light kisses down his chest, as you move yourself down his body. You apply more pressure with your hand, and his mouth falls open, a low groan escaping his lips. "Fuck..."
“Enjoying yourself?”
He nods, his hips lifting into your touch before he catches himself and forces them back down. "Too much," he admits. "I'm going to embarrass myself if you keep doing that."
“And we haven’t even got to the good part yet,” you tease.
You reach the waistband of his pants and unbuckle his belt. His fingers grip so hard into the bed sheets, knuckles turning a ghostly white. His chest heaves, breathing unsteady - he looks so utterly wrecked already.
“How do you... make me feel this way? I'm usually in control. I'm supposed to be the one..." He trails off...
“It’s okay to let loose a little, you are okay with this, right?” You pause needing to know before you can continue, fingers hesitating on the button of his pants.
The way he looks down at you is so intense, with desire and something else - love, trust.
"Yes.” He is quiet, but his response holds firm.
He lifts his hips obediently after you have unbuttoned his trousers, allowing you to slide them down his legs and off with ease. He now lies completely undressed before you, hard and exposed. You take note of every contour of his body, every scar that maps out its own gruelling story. You acknowledge every part of him, basking in the sight of the man you love. His cock stands proud and thick, with curls at the base.
"Don't look at me like that," he says, embarrassed. "I feel... self-conscious."
“I adore you,” is the only reply you can think to give, because you do… You adore the man lying before you, inside and out; your silent and stern protector, your rock, your everything.
“Would it help if I got undressed fully as well?” You motion to your skirt and bra.
"Yes," he breathes out, the word coming out like a plea. "Please... I want to see you too." He internally cringes at how needy he sounds, but you don’t leave him long to ponder it as you start to undress.
You make quick work of removing the rest of your clothing as he watches with rapt attention, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. When you slide your panties off he makes a small, choked sound in the back of his throat as he admires you - every part of you on full display.
"You're..." You swallow his words in a kiss before descending his body as he watches, holding his breath as you near his straining erection.
Your mouth levels with his cock, and he bites back a moan.
“Wait…” His face contorts with need and embarrassment, and you pause, hardly breathing. “I want this, I want this so fucking bad - I just… don’t want you to think less of me if I embarrass-“ The rest of his sentence is lost as you kiss the tip of his cock before licking a strip up from the base to the tip. "Yes, God, yes," he hisses, his hips lifting.
You take him fully into your mouth, and he makes a sound unlike anything you have ever heard from him before, a desperate whimper. His whole body arches off the bed as you suck on his sensitive cock, hands flying to your hair - not pushing or pulling, just trembling there, gripping tentatively like you are something fragile. "Oh fuck-"
A long, low moan escapes him as his head falls back on the pillow again, and you watch him, sucking greedily.
"Oh... oh God.”
You continue pleasuring him, studying his face - the way his mouth opens in silent awe, cheeks changing in hue to a rosy pink. His vulnerable eyes meet yours, conveying his need, his desire and his surrender. His hips start to move hesitantly in a rhythm, and he searches your face for any sign of displeasure, but seeing none, he lets himself move unrestrained in your mouth. You take him further into the back of your throat, one hand fondling his sack as the other grips his waist. His thighs tremble violently.
He whimpers pathetically before pressing his hand to his mouth; embarrassment flooding his features. You pull off him with a pop, replacing your mouth with your hand as you shift up his body to gently remove his hand from his mouth.
“I want to hear you, want to know how good it feels.”
He bites his lip hard, trying to hold back. But the moment your eyes meet his, and you tell him you want to hear him, he can’t hold it in any longer. His hands fly to your hair, and he lets out a desperate groan as your hand pumps his cock, while you kiss him.
“It does," he gasps against your lips. "It feels so good... you're so good..."
You grind against him slightly, the pressure on your clit shooting tingles all through your body. You are making a mess as you grind against him, your heat dripping with arousal. You both moan into each other’s mouths, and he realises that you are getting as much pleasure from this as he is.
One of his hands drops from your hair to your hip, encouraging the grinding motion. “Are you… ?” He pants against your lips, spellbound by the way you are moving on top of him. He loves the way your face contorts in pleasure, how needy you look - all for him. He could definitely get used to this sight.
“Yes… god, just looking at you is doing things to me - things you can't even imagine.”
Your confession is his undoing. He pulls back to search your eyes, seeing the truth lingering behind them - you're genuinely turned on by his vulnerable side, his embarrassment, his need. "Then show me... show me what seeing me like this does to you."
You turn your attentions from his cock to your soaking pussy, slowly massaging your clit. Dipping a finger inside your heat, you continue your circling motion. His grey eyes stare at your hand between your thighs, worshipping the sight.
Law’s cock twitches, leaking pre-cum, as he drinks in the way you touch yourself before him. “Is that… because of me?”
He doesn’t know what to do with himself - everything feels so intense. All he knows is his dick is throbbing painfully, aching for attention.
“Mhm… all because of you… think you might need to do something about it.” You add another finger, moaning at the stimulation.
Seeing you touch yourself like that, hearing your moan - it's too much for his sexually naive brain to handle . "Like what?" he asks hoarsely.
You withdraw your fingers before lining yourself up with his cock, “like this?”
He freezes as you position yourself over his throbbing dick. His breath catches in his throat. Then his hands snap to your hips. He holds you there as he stares up at you with wide, desperate eyes. “Yes. Like that. God, yes, like that."
You sink onto him slowly.
His head tilts, exposing the long column of his throat and his bobbing adams apple. A broken sob tears from his lips. “Oh fuck, oh fuck-“ His hands grip tightly, not forcing you but as if to ground himself to this moment.
You give yourself a brief second to adjust to his size before moving. He watches the way your bodies connect, eyes fixated on the movement - every slow roll of your hips, the way he sinks deeper into you. His mouth hangs open now, sounds falling freely from his lips - moans, gasps, broken cries of your name.
“You are doing so well,” you moan, and his whole body shudders at the praise. He shouldn’t be enjoying this, feeling so powerless beneath you, but he can’t help but turn to mush at your affections. You are the only person who can do this to him, see this side of him - open and vulnerable, so unlike his usual demeanour.
"I am?" he asks hoarsely, pleasure and embarrassment written all over his face. He can feel every inch of you around him, an overwhelming and incredible sensation. His hips start to move in sync with yours, his body reacting before his mind can.
“Yes, baby, so good for me.” God, this really is humbling, he thinks, the way the word baby turns him to mush.
His hips are meeting yours thrust for thrust now, as your bodies find a perfect rhythm. His hands on your hips begin to guide you, as he becomes more comfortable - more sure of himself and his movements. He finds the perfect angle that releases your name from his mouth like a call out to the gods.
“Yes. Oh, Law. Yes - please,” your encouragement spurs him on, and he moves faster, harder.
His dark hair sticks to his sweaty forehead, and he becomes so focused on the way your bodies intertwine that he doesn’t even seem to register his own movements anymore.
“Please, what?” He finally manages to gasp out, voice ragged.
“Please just like that… Right there.”
His thrusts turn desperate. He is panting now, his moans uncontrollable.
You guide his hand down to your clit, and he finds it like he has done this a hundred times before thumb circling it as you roll your hips. He groans long and low, watching your breasts bounce with every movement. He wants to please you; he wants to make you feel as good as you’re making him.
"Is this good?" He needs reassurance; even in his blissed-out state, he needs to know what he is doing is right.
“Yes, so good. Just like that.” Your confirmation creates a new confidence, as he continues - watching your face for your reactions to his ministrations.
"Baby... I think..." He pauses, stuttering and then swallowing again. The nickname is not something he uses often - he usually doesn’t bother with such terms of endearment, but it falls from his lips so naturally. His brain is short-circuiting with pleasure, and he becomes more urgent, more sloppy. “I'm gonna... I mean, if you keep moving like that..."
You know what he is trying to tell you, and you are nearly there as well.
“Cum… I’m so close, cum with me.”
Those words are the last straw. With a loud moan that seems to fill the room, he comes, his cock pulsing inside you. His thumb presses hard against your clit, and the sensation pushes you over the edge. You both ride out your orgasms together, bodies shifting in tandem.
You collapse fully against him, face nestled into his neck. You cuddle into him, his arms immediately reacting even though his brain is foggy. He pulls you closer against his broad chest.
“I love you, y’know.” Your confession, the way you fit perfectly against him, the afterglow of the moment you have just shared - makes him feel all warm and fuzzy, satiated in a way he never knew he could be.
His hand finds your hair, fingers needing your scalp tenderly. "I love you too," he repeats serenely, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
hello! i was wondering if you could maybe write something with sanji or zoro where reader has this cat that shes had almost all her life (cause cats are immortal in my eyes) that shes had almost uses to cope with whatever as she’s been through trauma but when her cat suddenly passes from someone or something she just disassociates and nobody really notices except for him. perry pretty please with a cherry on top?🥹
Hey!!! Thank you so much for your request, I had so much fun writing it. I decided to go for Zoro because I find him a lot easier to write but I did add a little Sanji moment in there. Hope this was what you envisioned when requesting!
💬 0 🔁 0 ❤️ 0 · Empty Spaces | Roronoa Zoro x Reader ·
Hey!! So this one was a request, I have cats myself so the idea of a cat dying qui
Hey!! So this one was a request, I have cats myself so the idea of a cat dying quite literally crushes me. Hope you enjoy!! Thank you to my lovely requester @dagoate
Synopsis: Dinnertime madness from Luffy and the crew but there is a storm brewing in your mind. You've just lost your cat and Zoro comforts you. (Established relationship / Angst & comfort)
Trigger Warnings for grief and pet loss naturally
Word Count: 2000 ish
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You’ve been pulling the same shit for days. You’ve been impossible for him to read - one moment you are laughing jovially and the next disappearing into yourself. He knows something is up. Something is eating at you, but he doesn’t know what. Now, he’s never claimed to be the most emotionally intuitive, but damn straight is he perceptive - he knows when something is amiss.
So now, while you are all gathered around the dining table, Sanji, dishing up steaming pasta and meat, Zoro keeps his eye on you, watching. Across the table, chaos has ensued - why mealtime always has to turn into a battlefield you do not know… Food and civilised are two words that cannot be found in the same sentence when it comes to your captain.
Luffy is currently draped over the table, his arm stretching out in an attempt to snatch a sausage from Ussop’s plate. "MEAT!!! GIMME THE SAUSAGE!"
The sniper is not best pleased, arms flailing, he is screaming bloody murder at the top of his lungs. “BACK OFF YOU RUBBER FREAK! THAT'S MINE!"
“I am the world’s greatest fork man,” Luffy declares to the table as his arm extends, swerving under Ussop’s nose and snatching the sausage off of his plate.
“Seriously, can’t you guys eat like normal people?” Nami chimes in, giving Ussop a death glare as he jostles the table.
“SHARE!” Chopper cries out, but neither Luffy nor Usopp pays him any attention. This is not dinner. This is all-out war.
Everyone is so happy, everything is so perfect, but your mind won’t stop dragging you back to that call you’d gotten a few days prior. It is not often that you find the time to use the transponder snail your family had given you, what with all the chaos that regularly ensues. Your calls with your family are few and far between, but you treasure them when they do occur. This call, however, had not been the most pleasant. The news you’d received haunts you. You laugh as Luffy introduces his three fork style technique and Zoro aims a swift punch to his head, but your smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes.
No one seems to notice - you’ve been careful not to let anyone catch wind of your hidden sadness. You don’t want to burden anyone with your grief. Losing a pet is tough, but out on the sea - well, there is more at stake.
You give your head a little shake to break yourself from your thoughts, realising you’d been staring at your food for far too long. Sanji is in full-blown protective chef mode now, spinning around the kitchen while kicking wildly at Luffy's stretching arms.
Sanji places carefully crafted deserts in front of you, Robin and Nami, "OI! Shitty Captain!! STOP STEALING FOOD BEFORE I KICK YOUR TEETH IN!!”
“Hey! Why don’t we get a desert?” Ussop cries indignantly, outraged at the clear and unabashed favouritism.
“Because you are not a lady,” Sanji deadpans.
You usually love Sanji’s desserts, but this time you look at it forlornly. You can’t help your brain drifting back to the cute little eyes that used to always stare up at you from underneath the table, begging for a taste of your food. Stupid brain. Stupid thoughts. Why can’t you just let this go?
Sanji immediately notices your saddened expression, his heart instantly melting as seeing you look anything less than happy causes him physical pain. He rushes over to you, leaning down dramatically with hearts in his eyes.
"My sweet- What is that look? Why does my lovely maiden look so sorrowful?" He gently pushes the exquisite parfait closer to you.
So someone else has noticed as well, Zoro notes, carefully watching your interaction.
“It’s nothing, just spaced out, really. Thank you, Sanji, this parfait looks divine,” you say, using flattery as a diversion. Sanji blushes at the praise, and Zoro frowns slightly. Stupid cook. Now is not the time to get distracted by flattery, he thinks to himself. He is glaring at Sanji, who is practically swooning, spinning around on his heel as hearts float around his head.
"Anything for my favourite maiden! Enjoy every bite!" Sanji says as he rushes to dote on both Nami and Robin as well.
Zoro shifts his weight in his chair, and under the table, his hand finds your knee, giving it a firm, grounding squeeze.
You look up at him, and you know you are busted.
“I'm fine, I swear,” you try to convince him, even though you are not truly convinced yourself.
Zoro doesn't take the bait; his sharp eyes narrow slightly as he studies your face. He doesn’t argue. No. Instead, he keeps his hand firmly on your knee, his thumb rubbing comforting circles against your skin.
He leans in closer, his breath tickling your ear. His voice is low enough that only you can hear as he mutters, “You’re a terrible liar.”
You huff slightly, knowing the gig is up and that he will not let this go. You lean against him, sinking into him slightly, subtly finding comfort in the heat of his body.
The others continue their chaotic banter around you, completely oblivious to the quiet moment passing between you and Zoro. Chopper laughs manically as he steals a piece of cake that was meant for Robin, only to swiftly lose it again as an arm extends from the table, grabbing it back. Zoro shifts his arm, wrapping it securely around your waist to keep you anchored against him. You silently accept defeat, taking a bite out of your parfait as he watches you.
Luffy slams his hands on the table, mouth full of food, and eyes lit up with excitement.
"OI! OI! EVERYONE SHUT UP AND LISTEN TO ME!" He swallows his mouthful loudly, and everyone pauses to look at him. "I GOT AN IDEA!" The others groan collectively.
Zoro grunts, his arm tightening slightly around your waist, already sensing a headache coming on.
Nami raises an eyebrow, her arms crossing suspiciously, “If your idea involves blowing something up or crashing the ship, the answer is absolutely NO."
"IT'S NOT THAT! WE SHOULD…” and just like that, Luffy launches into his obscenely stupid idea, gesturing wildly with his hands and nearly knocking over his own drink. The crew watches him with varying degrees of amusement and dread. Zoro shakes with silent laughter beside you, but you can’t deal with this right now.
You press up from your seat quietly, mumbling to Zoro about heading to bed early before using Luffy’s outburst as an opportunity to sneak away.
Expression unreadable, Zoro watches you carefully as you push back your chair and stand up. The others are oblivious to your departure, too caught up in their Captain’s ridiculously enthusiastic babbling. You exit the dining room, and Zoro waits a moment before excusing himself as well and following you without a second thought.
You slip down the corridors and make a beeline for your safe space, the library. The scent of old paper calms your racing mind, and you can’t help but think back to when you used to curl up on your armchair at home with a good book and your cat in your lap. They would purr sweetly, the vibrations comforting you like nothing else ever could. You found solace in those quiet moments, and the thought that they will never happen again breaks something inside of you.
Curling up into the sofa, you want to hide away for a bit; however, only a few minutes pass before the heavy door clicks open and then shuts. Zoro is standing there, leaning against the frame.
"Nice try, but this doesn’t look like your bed,” he jokes, and you smile slightly despite yourself. "You think you can just sneak off to hide when something's bothering you?"
“Nothing's bothering me.”
Zoro lets out a low, humourless sound—a grunt that says he's heard that bullshit before. He crosses his arms, staring at you. "Try again."
You say nothing, and so he moves, coming to sit next to you on the sofa. His large frame takes up most of the cushions, as he pulls your legs to rest over his lap. He fixes you with a knowing look, an unspoken demand for you to spill your guts.
“You are so pushy,” you finally say, sulkily.
Zoro smirks at your grumpy comment, his sharp features softening. He knows something is off, and he will be damned if he lets you suffer in silence. His thumb nudges your side insistently. "You know what else I am? Observant. So cut the crap and tell me what's actually going on."
“I got a call from my family the other day….” You start, hesitantly. You don’t know if you really want to say it out loud. Speaking it, uttering those horrible words, will make it too absolute - too real. Zoro's expression immediately drops, his brows furrowing. His hand finds yours, and he holds it, silent reassurance.
You look away, eyes trailing over the rows of books lining the walls. “It’s nothing”
Zoro's grip on your hand tightens, his patience wearing thin. He's no stranger to family complications—hell, he didn't have much of a family to begin with. But he knows the look in your eyes.
“It isn’t nothing,” he says matter-of-factly, like it is the most obvious thing in the world. "You can lie to yourself. But don't lie to me."
He squeezed your hand, and your resolve breaks.
“It’s my cat… she died.” The words taste sour on your tongue. “I know you might think it's just a pet and it's silly to be this upset, but I just-“
Zoro's expression instantly softens as he gazes at you with concern, and he pulls you against him, holding you close.
“Hey… It’s not silly.” His voice is firm and serious. "I don't think you're being silly. I think you're grieving. There's a difference." He pauses, thinking. He chooses his next words carefully. "You loved that cat. It's okay to be upset."
The dam breaks. All the pent-up anguish, the grief, the hurt, it all pours out of you.
“If anything went wrong, they were always there. Animals have this funny way of sensing when you are upset, y’know? They were like my support system,” you admit.
Zoro nods slowly, the pieces finally falling into place. He's never thought about it before, but you're right - animals have this weird intuition. Your cat had been with you through thick and thin, you loved her dearly, and he knows this has to be a low blow.
"Your cat was your calm place when everything else was chaotic, huh?"
“Yeah, they were.”
His heart aches as your teary eyes look up at him. He feels helpless, powerless to do anything more than hold you close and hope that that will be enough. You rest your head against him, and his hand moves to gently stoke your hair as your tears fall freely.
“It really hurts Zoro… It hurts.”
Zoro's grip on you is instinctively protective, his throat tightening at your raw admission of emotion. Whether it is a person or a pet, loss cuts deep. He knows that pain all too well. He leans down and presses a soft kiss to your temple. “I know it does.”
“Make it stop… I just want it to stop. They made me feel so safe, so loved, and now it's like there is this big empty void where they used to be…”
You cry against his chest, and he wishes he could fight this demon for you. He wishes he could take your pain away, but grief isn’t something you can cut down with a sword. Grief is not an enemy he can challenge, but it is also not a burden you have to bear alone.
“I can’t make it stop,” he admits, softly. “But I won’t let you go through this on your own.”
“Losing someone is shitty. It sucks. Every fucking day it sucks." He leans down, his chin resting on top of your head. "But you keep waking up anyway, and it gets easier.”
“It does?”
Your tears soak through his shirt, his heart squeezes painfully in his chest.
“It will get better,” he promises gently. “And I won’t leave your side. Not once.”
And he doesn’t. Even though your sadness feels as though it could consume you, you know you will get through it because you have people around you who will support you.
This is my first time writing anything sexual, if this is bad allow it please ;( Also my first time writing Zoro so I hope I actually captured his character right.
Synopsis: You spar with Zoro and he teaches you about his four sword style. (Established relationship / Smut / Minors DNI)
Word Count: 2107
Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT did I mention smut??
-
“This sucks,” you pout, watching your crewmates galavant off into the distance.
The island that you have arrived at appears deserted but filled with wildlife, so the rest of the crew has departed, leaving only you and Zoro in charge of the ship. You’d all drawn straws on who was going to be on ship-watch duty, and you had been the unlucky one. Zoro at least agreed to stay back with you, but you are so… so… bored.
Zoro is sprawled out on the deck, basking in the warm sunlight, shirt unbuttoned - dozing. The ship is quiet, and to him this is the perfect opportunity for a nap. He is quiet. Too quiet.
You turn to approach him, soft footsteps alerting him to your presence, and he cracks one eye open.
“Oi,” he says, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips.
“You are being so boring; it’s bad enough the others left us to guard the ship, but what are you sleeping for?”
Zoro yawns widely, stretching his arms overhead and making his shirt fall open even more, revealing his chiselled chest and the scars across his stomach. He glances at you, his expression teasing.
"Well, excuse me for not being entertaining enough for your liking,” he says, eyes trailing down your body before meeting your pouty expression. He looks up at you with a lazy smirk, which only adds fuel to the fire. You cross your arms defiantly before he pulls you down into his lap. “What's wrong, sweetheart? Need something to keep you busy?”
“Yes, in fact I do,” you say with a huff, averting your gaze but settling onto his lap nicely.
He chuckles, and his hands slide up your thighs possessively as he pulls you closer against him. His other free hand reaches up to grab your chin, steering your face until you are looking directly in his eyes.
"And what exactly are you looking for? A kiss?" His thumb brushes over your bottom lip teasingly.
“Nope! I want you to spar with me,” you reply with a wicked smile.
His eyes instantly light up, a dangerous grin spreading across his face as he stands and effortlessly carries you to the training mats.
“Finally, something interesting,” he says as he sets you down and grabs two wooden swords for you both. "You're gonna regret waking me up for this, you know that?"
“That's what I was hoping for.”
You remove your cover-up and toss it to the side, leaving you only in a bikini top and shorts – perfect for agility.
He takes in the sight, eyes travelling all over your body as he assumes a proper fighting stance, his grip tightening around the hilt of his sword.
"Don't come crying to me when you end up flat on your ass," he leers, his competitive side rising.
“Don’t hold your breath,” you say as he suddenly lunges forward, the blade slicing through the air.
He rushes to your side, and the wood whistles with the force of his movement, but you quickly dodge, aiming your own attack back at him. He parries your strike effortlessly, and you huff in annoyance, the clash of wood heavy in your ears. You try again, but his strength forces your blade back immediately, the impact vibrating up your arm. He grins widely at this, clearly enjoying himself. You evade blow after blow, struggling to land a hit as he twists his wrist and side steps, aiming once again for your side.
You are closer now, panting and sweaty, eyes locked on one another.
“Not bad,” he says as his movements become more aggressive and the ship's deck becomes a dance floor for you both and your blades. The sparring session is heated – electric, even. Suddenly, he feints low and then swings high and then swipes your legs out from under you.
You fall back against the sparing mats, out of breath and pinned. His knee rests between your legs, thigh pushing up against your crotch, and someone please have mercy because the way he grins down at you, eyes wild and sweat glistening, is so unbelievably hot.
Both your blades are discarded as he leans in closer, chest heaving, and his hand gripping your wrists above your head. His face is inches from yours.
"Still think I'm boring?" he questions, his cocky smirk infuriating.
You struggle against his grip before deciding to take a page out of Ussop’s book and fight dirty. You go in for the kill. His eyes widen in surprise as your lips crash against his, the sudden kiss catching him completely off guard. Before he can react, you flip your positions, straddling him with a triumphant smirk painted across your face. He blinks up at you, bewildered, momentarily stunned by your dirty tactics.
You stick out your tongue at him. "Sucks to suck. You’re losing your edge, swordsman.”
His eyes narrow in a mixture of both frustration and amusement as he lies pinned beneath you, outsmarted and defeated. You know he isn’t used to losing, and it makes the win taste even sweeter. Suddenly, without any warning, he bursts out laughing as you sit stunned.
“What’s so funny? You just lost,” you pout, annoyed.
Grinning up at you, he shakes his head in disbelief. “I’m laughing because I never thought you’d try such a dirty trick.” Suddenly, he bucks his hips, and you are thrown completely off balance. He flips you over so that you’re beneath him again. “Nice try.”
He leans down and bites your neck playfully, sending shivers up your spine. His thigh is back between your legs, and you just can’t help but whine at the pressure on your clit. Zoro feels you squirm beneath him. The telltale shift of your body as it rides against his thigh shows him the direction your thoughts have gone in. His grin turns predatory as he draws a soft gasp from your lips, pressing his thigh firmer to that sensitive spot.
“Oh? What’s this?” He grinds his thigh deliberately between your legs, and you choke on a moan, spluttering. He is using just the right amount of pressure to make you cry out. "Cat got your tongue now?" He teases, smirking dangerously.
"No… just… now who is playing dirty…” you manage to choke out.
"Two can play at your game, sweetheart."
He shifts his hips, changing the angle so his thick thigh rubs even more directly against your core. You whimper softly, and the sound goes straight to his dick, which is already straining in his pants.
“You going to show me your four-sword style?” You joke breathlessly, and he tries to give you a disapproving look before laughing slightly.
"You really wanna see my four-sword style?" He says, his voice dropping lower as he unbuckles his pants, tauntingly.
“For educational purposes, naturally.”
"Educational purposes, huh?" Slowly, he pulls his cock out of his pants, giving you an unrestricted view, and you moan at the sight. It is hard and thick and curves upwards towards his belly; every nerve in your body feels like it is being set on fire at the sight.
"Well, I suppose as my training partner, you have a right to know how I wield all four swords,” he says, going along with your poor joke from earlier.
You move slightly, and he watches with hungry eyes as the fabric of your swimsuit shifts to expose more of your skin. You are so wet – God… Why the hell are your clothes still on?
It is clear he is having the exact same thought as he unties the strings of your bathing top to expose your breasts. His hand then grips your thigh, thumb trailing over the wet patch on your flimsy shorts. He removes them with ease so that you are naked before him, chest rising and falling rapidly in anticipation.
"Looks like the student is already distracted.”
He watches as your eyes travel up his body. You peel off his shirt. “Maybe you should try being less distracting then.”
"Less distracting?" He chuckles, his thumb running along your soaking pussy. "I think you're projecting, sweetheart."
You watch him with glazed-over eyes, and he knows he has you right where he wants you. His fingers tease your entrance, his middle finger collecting your wetness before slowly pushing in. He finds your complete lack of focus adorable as he curls his fingers upwards, rubbing a particularly sensitive spot inside of you and making your toes curl.
“Not very articulate, are we? Still wanna talk, or are you finally focusing on the demonstration?” He leans down and bites your earlobe, his fingers pushing inside you, stretching you as his thumb starts rubbing lazy circles on your clit. His pace is torturous, and you fear that you’ll go mad if he keeps this up.
“Oh… Zoro… I—" you moan as he pumps his fingers inside of your wet heat.
You kiss him. Passionately. Feverishly. Overcome with desire. He instantly kisses you back with the same overwhelming hunger, devouring a very needy moan as his fingers continue at their relentless pace inside of you.
He breaks the kiss, pulling back just enough to speak against your lips. “Good girl, now pay attention.” He curls his fingers inside you harshly, and you cry out.
“So good, Zoro, need your—" you pant.
Just hearing his name fall from your lips in such a desperate, breathy tone sends him reeling. “Need what? This?” He presses his forehead against yours and maintains eye contact with you as he plays with your cunt.
“No… Your cock, please fuck me, Zoro,” you beg.
A satisfied grin spreads across his face, and he withdraws his fingers from your sopping cunt. “Eyes on me."
You look up at him obediently as he spits on his palm, wrapping it around his cock and stroking slowly. He loves how desperately you are begging, how fully you have given yourself up to him. Zoro rubs the head of his cock against your clit before positioning himself at your entrance, teasingly. "Since you asked so nicely..."
Without warning, he sheaths himself inside of you in one smooth, deep thrust, bottoming out and making you gasp instantly. He waits for a moment, letting you adjust to his size before he pulls out slightly and pushes back in. You moan, your head lolling to the side and your tits bouncing with every deep thrust. He pounds into you relentlessly, like a man on a mission, setting a tough, claiming pace.
"This is better than any spar, isn't it?" He says as his hips snap forward into you sharply, and you moan out your agreement. “That’s what I like to hear.”
The sound of skin slapping against skin is the only thing that you can hear, and you can feel him so deeply inside you. He angles his thrusts, hitting just the right spot, making your vision blur. Your nails rake down his back, digging into his flesh as he groans deeply. The sharp sting only drives him to go faster, his hips rolling harder and driving the air from your lungs. He buries his face in your neck, biting and sucking soft marks into your skin as you both get completely lost in the rhythm.
Your moans grow louder and more broken with each thrust, and he grunts against your neck. “That’s it… Good girl."
The praise nearly sends you over the edge, and you cry out. “I’m so close.”
"Come on my cock then," he growls urgently, moving to kiss you. His thumb finds your clit again, rubbing fast circles as your mouths clash together. He is close himself, and his eyes close in ecstasy. “I’m not far behind.”
You cum with a loud moan that is swallowed by his harsh kiss, his own hips stuttering as he chases his release inside of you. In one final thrust, he bottoms out inside of you, filling you up with his hot cum as he groans. “Fuck…”
You are both left panting and completely fucked out as he rides out his high before collapsing onto the mats, pulling you on top of him. “Did so well.”
His heavy breathing matches yours as his muscular arms circle around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.
“Four-sword style, huh?” You say when you finally catch your breath.
Bonus: (Taken from the anime)
Your head is pushed through the railing of the Sunny alongside your crewmates as you all glare down at Zoro.
Zoro: That's enough whining.
Chopper: You savage.
Nami: Blockhead
Luffy: Three-sword style
Ussop: Saying 'three-sword style' isn't an insult, Luffy.
Okay, so damn... I received so much positive feedback on my last fic so I thought I would spread the love and give you some more Law content. I am open to writing for other characters but who would you guys like to see me write for? Any requests, either drop a comment or an ask.
Synopsis: Your Captain always overworks himself, sometimes he just needs to relax. You and Bepo are the perfect combination to finally ease his tense shoulders and get him to kick back for once. (Established relationship / soul crushing fluff / sfw)
Word Count: 1417
-
This is the third time - the third time you have now been forced to resort to barging into his office. Why will he not let himself catch a break?
Papers are strewn everywhere, some medical, some navigational, but their contents matter little to you.
"You've been in here for eight hours. Eight. Come on, come up for air!"
Law looks up from his paperwork, irritated. "I told you I'm busy. Stop interrupting me."
"But Law, we've finally surfaced, and it's so sunny , surely-"
Law's jaw tightens as he takes you in, leaning against the doorway in a skimpy bathing suit and shorts, sunglasses perched on top of your head. You look way too cute. It's disturbing his workflow.
"What part of 'I'm busy' don't you understand?" he says through gritted teeth. "I'm not coming out. So just..."
"Fine, have it your way, be boring," you reply with a huff, pushing your sunglasses down to cover your eyes. "While you turn practically vampiric, I will be getting a nice tan."
Law's expression softens slightly at your pout, but he quickly masks it with a stern look. "I'm the captain. Being boring is kind of the point."
"Yeah, yeah. Later then?"
Law pauses, his pen hovering over the paper as he thinks about your question. Later... when he was finally done with this never-ending barrage of paperwork. He sighs gruffly and leans back in his chair. "Yeah. Later. And I want the deck clean by the time I am done."
"Yes, Captain," you reply, barely listening as you push up off the door frame and turn away.
...
Climbing up the ladder and onto the deck, Law shields his eyes from the glaring sunlight. Bepo is stretched out on the deck, which is only partially clean, and you are cuddled up in his fur, basking in the sun's rays. You both look incredibly peaceful and adorable, causing Law to fight to maintain his usual stern expression. He is unable to help how his eyes soften at the sight.
"You two look ridiculous."
"Comfy," you murmur sleepily, lazily burying your head further into Bepo's fur.
Bepo snores loudly, nuzzling closer to you, and Law watches this interaction, his jaw tightening slightly. He finds it incredibly cute how you're using Bepo as a pillow, but he also feels the need to maintain his composure.
Law walks over until he is standing over you both, casting a shadow that blocks the sunlight.
"Hey! How am I meant to tan when you are getting in the way of the sun?"
He stands over you both, trying to ignore the way his heart is beating slightly faster. He has a soft spot for you, and he has a soft spot for cute things; this sight is traitorously adorable.
"You're supposed to be cleaning the deck, not using Bepo as a cushion."
You reach up to adjust your sunglasses. "Mm, cleaning this , cleaning that; it's so sunny it'd be wrong of me not to enjoy it while it lasts."
Law's lips twitch as he tries in vain to maintain his annoyed expression, but his amusement at your lazy attitude is clear. He crosses his arms, leaning against the submarine's railing. "And what if I said I need that deck cleaned right now?"
"Is that a direct order, captain?" you say teasingly, rolling your eyes under the sunglasses, even though you know he can't see.
Law's expression softens completely despite himself; trying to maintain his facade of indifference is a losing battle. He hates how cute you look, teasing him while lying on Bepo - his two weaknesses.
"Yes, it is. Get your lazy ass up and finish cleaning," he orders half-heartedly.
Bepo starts mumbling incomprehensibly, his fur puffing up as he shifts in his sleep, and you settle further onto his warm belly. "Mmph... tuna... so much tuna... All mine..."
His sleepy murmurs amuse Law, and he watches, one eyebrow raised, as one of Bepo's massive paws flops from his chest and onto the deck.
"You are just jealous because you've been cooped up in your office all day, being all boring. You're like a hermit crab, babe."
Law's face reddens slightly at your teasing remark, and he hates how right you are. He has been locked up in his office all day, reviewing documents and talking to his crew members. Meanwhile, you're out here enjoying the sunshine with Bepo and effectively slacking off from your cleaning duties.
"Shut up," he replies, but it holds no bite.
"How rude... I did ask you to join me on deck earlier. We were cleaning, but the weather was so inviting, and we just needed a little break."
His jaw shifts as he looks at you, tightening. He knows you're right, but he is stubborn and doesn't like admitting it.
"Maybe I would have if I weren't busy with important work, unlike some people who just lie around napping," he retorts.
"It's been ages since we last surfaced; surely you can take a break every once in a while. Besides, it is always so hot for Bepo in the sub when we are cooped up underwater; he needs some air."
Law hesitates, and his stern expression cracks completely. You're right-he has been pushing himself relentlessly since you last surfaced, and poor Bepo always struggles with the stuffy heat when you are submerged. He watches the way the sunlight catches your hair and how peaceful you look, nestled up against Bepo. By God, he also notices how damn good that bathing suit looks on your body.
"... Fine." He sighs heavily before adjusting his hat and sitting down next to both of you on the deck, leaning back against the railing. It feels so good to stretch out his legs after being cramped up in his office all day. The warmth of the sun on his face for the first time in ages is delightful, and his shoulders finally relax.
"Why are you so far away?" You pout, moving your sunglasses to the top of your head so he can see your sulky expression properly. He shoots you an incredulous look, cheeks flushing slightly at the invitation.
"Absolutely not. I'm not cuddling with you like some sort of lovestruck fool. I'm merely... enjoying the sun. Alone." His voice lacks all conviction as he speaks, averting his eyes from your piercing stare.
"But Bepo and I are so comfy," you whine, poking the bear's fur.
Bepo sighs deeply, drool escaping his mouth. He mumbles, "tuna, more tunnnaaa."
This makes you giggle, and Law looks at you endearingly. The sight of your laughter and Bepo's sleepy face is too much to resist. He shifts slightly closer, still trying to play it cool. "You're being ridiculous."
You outstretch your arms, beckoning him over. "You know you want to…."
That's it. Law's resolve crumbles completely. He just cannot resist your inviting arms any longer, and with a frustrated sigh, he moves closer, sitting down next to you. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you against his side as he also leans against Bepo's warm, fluffy belly.
"There, you happy?" he says, not looking at you, his face buried against your hair. He doesn't want to admit that this might be the most comfortable he has felt in ages. The warmth of Bepo and how soft your hair is are a deadly combination. Although he would not admit it, he finally feels content and slightly sleepy.
"Very much so."
Bepo lets out a loud purring sound, and Law can feel the vibrations of it against his back as he shifts slightly.
"Fucking ridiculous," he mutters.
You cuddle into his side and place a soft kiss on his neck, which causes him to freeze. His heart did not just skip a beat-it absolutely did not. For a moment, he just sits there stiffly, unsure of how to react. Slowly, he relaxes and tilts his head slightly, giving you better access to his neck as you nuzzle into him.
"You're such a brat."
"Yeah, but you love it. Now what was that you said about cleaning?" You joke, placing more lazy kisses along his neck and down to his collarbone.
Law's expression shifts playfully at your teasing, and his fingers begin to trace idle patterns at your sides.
"Don't push your luck," he murmurs, but there's no real threat in his voice. Surprisingly, the sun has made him quite docile, and he submits to this rare moment of relaxation.
Okay, to preface this i have not written fanfiction in years but recently i have been binge watching One Piece and got inspired. This was written at 4 in the morning because I couldn’t stop reading so please ignore any errors. Hopefully Law isn’t too OC and i hope you enjoy!
Synopsis: You can’t stop reading even though it is the middle of the night. Law finally gets fed up and gets you to put your book down and sleep. (Established relationship / soul crushing fluff / sfw)
Word count: 1413
-
Law groans, opening his eyes and blinking the sleep away. He immediately notices the distinct absence of your presence in his arms. Your reading light is on, casting a faint glow across the room. You are curled up against the headboard of the bed, a novel in hand and eyes glazed over as you read. He glances over at you and then at the clock, eyeing you disapprovingly.
"For the love of... It's 3 in the morning."
"Is it? I hadn't noticed," you reply, only half paying attention.
Law runs his fingers through his hair, frustration clear in his tone. "Yes, it is, and you're still reading."
He sits up in bed, the blankets falling to his waist and revealing his bare chest. It would be a mouthwatering sight, if your werent submerged in possibly the best novel you’ve ever read.
"I thought I told you to get some sleep."
"It's just getting good." Your eyes scan the pages, fully captivated by every word you read.
His eyes narrow as he watches your fingers turn to the next page. In one swift motion, he reaches over and snatches the book from your hands, holding it high above his head.
"No." He says, and his voice is flat, leaving no room for argument. "You've been pulling this shit every night for a week."
You move, trying to get it back from him, but he holds it tauntingly out of your reach. Your attempt to grab it back is easily dodged as his arm remains outstretched, a stern expression crossing his face.
You try again.
"Don't even think about it." His free hand reaches out, gently but firmly grasping your wrist in an effort to prevent any further attempts. “Bed. Now."
Despite the way he is restricting your movement, you manage to clamber onto his lap and reach for the book again.
Instinctively, his hand releases your wrist and instead wraps around your waist to keep you in place. The sudden contact surprises him, and he pauses momentarily before his stern expression returns.
"Stop it. You're not getting this back," he says firmly.
"But Lawwww-"
Law's jaw tightens slightly at your whining tone. The book is kept firmly out of your reach, and you pout at him. His arm is solid around your waist, and you find that all attempts to climb higher or grab your precious book from him are futile.
"Don't 'Lawww' me." His voice drops lower, tone carrying a clear warning. "You've been up until ungodly hours for three nights straight."
"That's rich coming from you; plus, it's a good book."
He sighs heavily, and you pout against his shoulder. In one swift motion, he drops the book onto the nightstand, wrapping both arms around you.
"It's a good book that's going to wait until you've had a full night's sleep."
"You are such a buzzkill, Traffy."
You know he doesn't like that nickname - all the more reason to say it.
One of his hands moves from your waist to gently but firmly cover your mouth, effectively shushing you. He meets your annoyed expression with one of his own.
"You are acting like a five year old. Sleep. Now."
If he is going to call you a five year old... fine - you'll act like one. Your tongue darts out to lick his hand.
His fingers twitch at the sudden sensation, and he draws his hand back, irritation clear on his face.
"Real mature."
Despite his words, the corner of his mouth twitches, curving into an unwilling smirk before he forces it away.
"I'm not kidding around. Lie down."
You wriggle futilely in his hold, even though you know you will not be making it to the nightstand. Law's arms tighten around you instantly, and your wiggling ceases as you are pulled flush against his chest.
"I swear to the gods, if you try to reach that book one more time-"
"Just let me finish the chapter; then I swear I'll go to sleep," you promise, not fully knowing if you believe yourself.
He knows an obvious lie when he hears one, and his expression remains hard, searching your face.
"Not an option."
His tone leaves no room for negotiation. He adjusts his grip on you slightly but doesn't let you go.
You are left with no other option...
You hit him with the puppy dog eyes.
Instantly, his expression softens, and his arms loosen just a fraction before he collects himself.
"Don't even try it, " he says gruffly. He knows that look all too well. "You're not getting that book tonight. Tomorrow? Maybe... if I'm feeling nice."
In a last-ditch attempt to get out of his hold, you decide to play dirty.
His breath catches as you suddenly kiss him, his eyes widening a fraction before he realises your intentions. His reflexes kick in almost instantly, and before you can escape his lap, he grabs you and pulls you back.
Damn those reflexes.
"I really thought that would work," you sulk.
A chuckle rumbles through his chest, and he shakes his head. The rare sound is like music to your ears.
"You really thought kissing me would distract me enough to let you sneak off?" He is clearly amused, but his grip on you remains. "Sweetheart..."
"I had to at least try; my favourite characters have finally just got together and-"
He understands your enthusiasm for the book, but his resolve remains firm.
"And they'll still be together tomorrow morning when you've actually slept for once. Stop arguing."
All hopes of getting your book squashed, you resign yourself to fully taking in the sight before you. You stare at him, admiring the way his hair frames his face, tousled from sleep. He is adorable. His eyes are slightly tired but stubborn, unrelentingly obstinate.
You kiss him again; you can't help yourself.
This time, he is more prepared for your advance. His hand cups your cheek ever so gently as he returns the kiss. It is soft and sweet, but disappointingly brief, as he pulls back just enough to speak.
"Stop using kisses to distract me; it isn't going to work."
His voice is low and slightly breathless.
"I won't fall for the same trick twice."
"You didn't really fall for it the first time," you point out, resting your forehead against his as you kiss his nose. He crinkles his nose in protest but doesn't pull away. "I wasn't trying to distract you anyway... You just look so cute when you are all sleepy and your hair is all messy."
Caught off guard by your confession, he blushes slightly at the sudden compliment. Instinctively, his arms tighten around you as he fights off the ever-darkening flush of his cheeks.
His messy hair falls forward to cover his eyes, and he murmurs, "You're only saying that to get me to let you up."
"Can I not just admire how handsome you are... Captain?" you say teasingly, moving some of his hair out of his eyes.
You smile adoringly up at him, content and satisfied despite the upsetting distance between you and your novel.
"Stop saying things like that."
His words hold no bite, and you move your hand to trace his jaw with your thumb before letting it fall to his shoulder.
His eyes flutter closed briefly at your gentle touch, and when they open again, they meet yours with such softness that you find you are now the one blushing. The stern boyfriend facade melts away, his face betraying the deep affection he has for you. It is the side of him that he had never experienced before you waltzed your way into his life, taking up permanent residence on his ship and in his heart.
"I love you, even when you take my books."
"I love you too, " he admits quietly, fingers tracing your sides. "Even when you try to kiss me just to get your way."
"I think I've resigned myself to not being able to get my way. Nothing can change your mind when you get so stubborn."
He lets out a light laugh. "Smart girl."
He kisses your forehead gently before pulling you down so you are lying on his chest.
"Now stop trying to manipulate me with kisses and go to sleep. Your book will still be there in the morning."
He moves his hand to stroke your hair soothingly as your eyelids finally flutter closed, and you drift off into peaceful sleep.
I was giving my thoughts on Peaky Blinders a few weeks ago and I danced around the subject of my dislike for this character but didn’t have time/room to get it all out. So here it is! Grace fans, you probably want to look away now.
So to me, Grace is kind of symbolic of the bad writing on Peaky Blinders, which is especially egregious because usually the writing of the show is good. But right off the bat, her arrival creates a number of plotholes that don’t resonate with Tommy’s character. Just for a start, nobody seems to find it suspicious that an apparently attractive woman (seriously, people go on and on about how pretty Grace is and while it’s not as though she’s ugly at all, you can’t help but wonder if the Peaky boys merely think so because she’s the only woman of significance not related to them) is so determined to be a barmaid in The Garrison, where Tommy, upon seeing her, immediately asks her if she’s a whore. Grace is understandably offended by the question, which again makes you wonder why she’d want to work somewhere where such a question isn’t just an assumption, but the first thing Tommy asks - we know she’s a spy, but the other characters don’t.
Then, Tommy corners Grace and starts asking why she keeps being so nosy about the Blinders and their business. They go for a walk and Tommy asks Grace if she’s a Catholic. She says she is, but when Tommy points out that no good Catholic girl would walk into a church without making the cross, he immediately exposes her as a liar and points out he also knows that she lied to him about what town she was from, because he asked around and nobody had ever heard of her. So what does he do? He…promotes her to being his secretary? What?
Okay, so you might argue that Tommy puts her in said position to keep an eye on her, or thinks she might be useful if she has the balls to lie to him, but she tells such an easy-to-unravel lie and her excuse is because she wants to “fit in”. Again, he lets her off the hook but she covers up a lie with an even more obvious one - if Grace cared about fitting in, she’d make more of an effort to do so, but she keeps demanding Tommy let her sing in the pub and asks questions above her station to Arthur, which got reported back to Tommy. Sure, it’s her job to spy on the Peaky boys, but she’s so transparent about it that it’s honestly ridiculous that Tommy would ever put her in a position that close to his personal affairs. Not to mention, Grace is so inexplicably haughty towards Tommy, telling him, “You disappoint me” when he kisses her. You’d think if she was good at her job, she’d learn to shut her mouth and keep her head down like a decent spy, but she always acts as if she’s better than Tommy because, like Polly points out, she’s a spoiled little rich girl at heart and she does think herself above the Shelby’s.
Then Tommy completely inexplicably chooses to give Grace a fucking gun and tells her some men are going to come in and try to kill him and he’s relying on her to bail him out. I know the cops were meant to come in at the stroke of six and they fuck up, but WHY would you ever place that level of trust in someone you already know is a liar? Sorry, but I just don’t buy that Tommy was blinded by “love”. I can buy that maybe he was curious about Grace, possibly even fancied her a bit, but definitely not so stupid that he thinks it’s a good idea to put his fucking life in the hands of a woman he knows basically nothing about. She could have fallen out of the sky for all he knows. Tommy even continues to trust Grace after she kills an IRA guy right in front of him because she sobs, “I didn’t know I had it in me like that”, yet she disobeyed his instructions and whenever Arthur or John do that, Tommy gives them a bollocking. He lets Grace off, again, for seemingly no reason other than she played the damsel in distress role and he buys it. This doesn’t make Tommy look like a smart man blinded by love, it just makes him look like an idiot around Grace.
Also, there seems to be an uncomfortable level in Tommy/Grace of Tommy getting a kick out of using Grace to piss Campbell off. It’s pretty obvious Campbell has a creepy crush on her, and Tommy exploits that for all it’s worth when he explicitly rings Campbell to inform him that he’s going to bang Grace. (Incidentally, their sex scene made me go, “Oh, I guess they’re gonna fuck now. Yup.” It was like they did it because the screenwriter said so.) He’s basically cucking Campbell and I think it’s a big reason why even Grace fans admit that she’s “not as good” in Season Two - Grace just doesn’t work without Campbell around. At least in Season One you can argue that every shitty thing Grace does to Tommy/the Peaky Blinders is partly because of her job as a spy and Campbell is her boss. In Season Two, there are no excuses for the way Grace acts. She’s a selfish, self-righteous hypocrite. She jumps at the chance to go to Birmingham on the offchance it was Tommy who called, then acts all offended when he assumes she came to sleep with him, to the point she actually smacks him in the face. What does Tommy do about this? Nothing. When Grace complains they could have run away to New York together, all Tommy says is, “I had things to do”, instead of asking Grace why she thinks he’d abandon his family, business, friends and country all to chase after the woman who sold him out to his worst enemy. Grace honestly expected Tommy to put her first after everything she did to him. I won’t act like Tommy is a saint in this - he did nearly pimp her out to Billy Kimber - but at least he acknowledges it was wrong of him to do and he never acts like he occupies any moral highground like Grace does. When Grace admits she sold Tommy out, she sobs she “did a terrible thing,” yet never tries to actually help him out in a way that would put her at risk - she quit her position, sure, but Campbell’s creepiness had gone so far as to propose marriage to her, Grace was still looking out for herself when she left, because it got her away from Campbell. She asked Campbell to spare him, knowing full well that Campbell has wanted Tommy dead since day one. She plays the damsel in distress again and she’s pissed when Tommy doesn’t fall for it a second time. Then when she talks about her husband, she tries to rub it in Tommy’s face how he’s “a good, kind man”, but then quickly backtracks on that to fuck Tommy anyway because her husband is impotent - and Grace just can’t deal with not getting what she wants. Tommy’s rich enough to afford to buy a house for Ada and Polly by this point, he’s running Birmingham and seeking to expand into London, so Grace pulls the oldest trick in the book and gets pregnant - then Tommy has to do the responsible thing and marry her, because the baby is his and it’s literally the only piece of leverage she has over May. (May even points out that she’s been stringing Tommy along and all Grace can do is throw the fact that “Grace’s Secret” is the horse’s name at her. Again though, did Tommy call it that to piss off Campbell? This was before Grace returned to Small Heath but after Campbell had, so I think yes.)
Then in Season Three, again, Grace is pretty much a pointless character, because she has no purpose anymore outside of being “Tommy’s wife”. Campbell is dead and so the conflict of her character in Season One, as contrived as that was, is gone. People complain about Grace being stuffed into a fridge and whatnot, (and tbh, you could say that about Freddie, but Freddie also served his purpose in Season One after he buried the hatchet with Tommy), but honestly I think that it was all they could think to do with her because Charlotte Riley was unable to pick up her role as May for Season Three, so they had to work around it. It’s the only explanation I can think of about why Grace is just such a blatantly awful person in the Second Season - I’ve heard people say before that Tommy leaving the field after his assassination was prevented would have been the perfect ending to the season, but that scene at the end where he returns to The Garrison and announces he’s getting married seemed really hastily tacked-on - I feel like it was added because they were forced to rewrite the drafts for Season Three and put whatever plans for May they had on the shelf. Not to mention, Grace’s actress Annabelle Wallis has apparently stated she hates May because she’s “annoying” and “gets inbetween Tommy and Grace”. No, Grace got in the way of Tommy and Grace - she’s the one who chose to leave Birmingham after she got exposed as a Mole instead of taking the consequences! And also, how is May the annoying one? At least she doesn’t whisper all her lines. It’s just so immature of the actress to bash on the character and encourage ship wars, especially considering Grace comes out the winner of the love triangle, so what’s the bitterness about? (I’ve not heard what her opinion is on Lizzie, but I doubt it’s as hostile, because it’s made obvious in the show that Tommy doesn’t love Lizzie the same and the poor girl is constantly competing with a dead woman for her husband’s love.) Plus, in Season Three, the wedding is all about not upsetting Grace, Tommy’s family have to play nice with Grace’s family, and Polly is once again the only person who knocks Grace’s smug ass down a peg by reminding her that the family haven’t forgiven or forgotten Grace’s crimes against them - the only reason they’re putting up a pretence of tolerating her is for Tommy’s sake. Not hers. Not everybody in the world wants to accommodate Grace. Killing Grace was honestly the highlight of the entire Season, because I couldn’t stand watching her smirking over how she got everything she wanted when she didn’t pay for any of it. (Polly is also the only one who comments on how Tommy has conveniently forgotten all the shit she pulled on him and Tommy acts like she was a totally innocent bystander when she got killed and it’s like, no, Tommy, baby. Grace knew what she was getting into when she married him and he knew that - it’s pretty much common knowledge that everybody who is even tangentially associated with the Peaky Blinders gets hurt eventually, just look at how Ada was nearly gangraped even though she hadn’t been involved with the family business for two years.)
Come Season Four and Five and there’s already a problem here - there is still more to talk about with Grace, even though she’s dead and Tommy spends most of Season Three rampaging over her death. But he just inexplicably won’t let go of her. And again, this doesn’t come across as Tommy being so in love with Grace he can’t fathom a world without her, it comes off like her actress has dirt on the director or something. He constantly hallucinates the bitch, we hear her singing all the time, it’s kind of implied that Tommy prefers Charles over Ruby because Charles a boy and has a saintly dead mummy while Ruby is the daughter of a former whore (not that Tommy doesn’t love Ruby, obviously, because he absolutely does), and what really annoys me about Tommy hallucinating Grace is that she’s the only character he does this with. He doesn’t dream about Greta, his first love, he doesn’t dream of Danny or Freddie or his mother. He doesn’t even fucking dream about John! Remember John, Tommy’s little brother he knew his entire life? Apparently nobody else does! No, it’s always all about Grace, who keeps helpfully telling Tommy to hurry up and kill himself so he can be with her again. This doesn’t seem like an out-of-character, guilt-induced vision - it mimicks her attitude in Season Two, that nothing else in his life can be as important as she is.
And that’s why I hate Grace.
(Please don’t send me rude or hateful messages over this post, it’s just my opinion and it’s pretty much irrelevant anyway since I doubt Stephen Knight is going to stop using Grace up as some kind of martyred dead saint anytime soon. I just wanted to get this rant out of my system.)
I literally cannot stand the way grace burgess was martyred in the show (I refuse to call her a Shelby lol). To me, she’ll always be the spoilt, shallow, conniving, hoity-toity woman who’s storyline and character has been dragged out far longer than necessary.
@cheekypeakyblinders @wouldpollyapprove @peakymarvelworld - worth a read :)
I’m so glad someone put this into words. I see no lies in any of this. Grace could have been a great character had she been written by other writers. There are plenty of other shows and movies that deal with spies and those characters (for the most part) are done well. And I hate how the writers make Grace almost the center of what the show is about. Her character makes it seem like she’s the reason behind the rise and, perhaps, fall of Thomas Shelby. Like she set in motion his rise to power and that her death was what has set the stage for his fall. It’s not hard for me to see the show doing that as Tommy has become more reckless since her death.
But there is little meaning if she has had that much power over the path of his life.
When you look at it, shouldn’t privilege, class, and money have everything to do with Tommy’s rise in power. There would be more meaning behind everything he did if those were behind his motives. The Shelbys grew up poor, meaning they were looked down upon, treated poorly, and had no privilege. It wouldn’t be a reach to assume those are what fuels Tommy’s ambitions. It would then make sense that he wants to reach a certain status. That he wants a large manor with maids. It would make sense then that he would have unchecked ambition as he finally has what he as always been denied. And then it would make sense that he would want to continue growing his wealth and destroy himself in the process. But to make a person, one he barely knew, be what fuels and almost takes over his mind and thought process is a reach.
It’s clear that Grace isn’t the first woman Tommy ever loved, that was Greta. So, it just doesn’t make sense to me how Tommy “loved” Grace when he didn’t do much to show it. When Greta was dying, Tommy was by her bedside every day. He obviously cared for that woman and, to me, it would make sense if he did some things in Greta’s name. It would make sense if she was behind a few things he did because he loved her and would be thinking of her sometimes. And it would also make sense to do the same with Grace, but the writers have gone overboard and made everything about her. In doing that, they have pushed Greta into a closet and made everything about Grace. I’m sorry but we can’t forget about Tommy’s first love. That would definitely impact him and, even though he is a cold man, I don’t think many could forget about the first person they truly loved.
At this point I’m probably rambling, but at the end of the day, Grace had little impact on Tommy’s life so I don’t understand why she is so important to his story. If the writers want people to be behind his motives they could have used his mother or even Greta. And in making Grace that person, I think they have strayed from Tommy’s character and background. He is more than just a man who lost someone he loved. It wasn’t the first person he lost and, most certainly, not the first person he loved. So, everything surrounding Grace and her presence in the show just doesn’t make sense to me.
