crystal 👾

Doffy could never come to love you like that, not when he had his cock inside another woman whenever it wasn't in you. Soon, it started to feel degrading, him fucking you as though that was all you were good for. So you ran.

Stowing away on ships, somehow managing to remain hidden, and ending up in places you hadn't even heard of. You had felt lost, but that changed once the Straw Hats came into the picture.

You had been there when the crew was still small, before Chopper had joined, and they had accepted you without question once they noticed Luffy had taken a liking to you, excited to have a friend on board.

You had enjoyed their company, but the truth was, you did not have what the others had. Nami could read the sea with precision, while Zoro carried the strength of his sword, sharpened through years of relentless training. 

Sanji moved with both skill and purpose, feeding the crew and even protecting them when it mattered, while Usopp, despite all his fear, never failed to deliver when it mattered most, his aim steady.

You, on the other hand, had only ever been defined by something far less tangible, something that could not be measured because your place had come from the bond you had formed with Luffy. 

It was enough for a while—to be included simply because he wanted you there. After all, with Luffy, there was never a demand to prove your worth.

Still, you had tried to find something more solid to stand on, something that belonged to you alone, and that was tending to injuries. But when Chopper stepped into the role of doctor, that fragile sense of purpose you had built for yourself began to unravel.

It crept into your thoughts more often than you cared to admit, that question of why you were there, what you truly contributed, whether your presence was a nuisance, and those thoughts might have consumed you entirely if not for Luffy.

When Bartholomew Kuma scattered the crew, tearing all of you apart, there was no time to hold onto anything, and when you opened your eyes again, you were alone. 

Completely and utterly alone. 

In a place you did not recognize. 

Surrounded by nothing but dense forest and strange creatures that kept their distance.

The days stretched on, blending into one another until time itself began to lose meaning. You were left only with your own thoughts. 

Three months passed like that, with nothing but survival to occupy your hands and no way out.

That was when you met Law. You remembered seeing him once at Sabaody, just another pirate crew in the chaos.

Trafalgar D. Water Law had recognized you almost immediately, his gaze dragging over you that had made you suddenly aware of how bad you must have looked. 

The cuts, the bruises that had been patched up poorly with whatever you could find, it was obvious you had been on your own for a while.

He did not say much about it, just offered to treat you like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and you did not bother arguing. 

He had worked quietly, fixing what you had done wrong, his hands working with surgical precision.

It was through him that you finally heard what had happened, the news hitting like a storm.

Portgas D. Ace was dead. 

At that moment you had wanted nothing more than to reunite with Luffy, but when you read further of the newspaper, his message had been clear through the image, to meet again in two years instead of now.

You stayed with the Heart Pirates. Days turned into weeks, and no one pushed you to leave, but no one exactly welcomed you either. They tolerated you, that was the best way to put it.

It took you a month to actually ask him. 

When they were taking their leave off the island, he had offered to drop you off somewhere safer, but you asked him to take you with him, just for a while. 

Law had disagreed, simply because you were not his responsibility. And more importantly, you belonged to another crew, even if that crew was not with you right then.

His crew had not been rude about your extended presence, but it was obvious they were not too thrilled about the idea. 

Still, you did not drop it. You kept asking, pushing a little more each time even when you knew you did not have much to offer in return.

Maybe it was your persistence, maybe he just got tired of saying no, but he agreed in the end. And just like that, you were not alone anymore.

You had spent longer on that submarine than you expected to and the Heart Pirates had started easing up around you. The edge softened along the way as you first befriended Bepo, and later Ikkaku.

When you had begged to Law to teach you medicine he had not looked impressed at the idea. But he had agreed anyway when you told him you were tired of feeling useless.

It started simply enough, long hours spent going over things you barely understood at first, his explanations short and always to the point, expecting you to keep up without much hand-holding.

The late nights became a norm as the routine settled in quickly—most of the crew would be sleep while you stayed up trying to make sense of the hefty syllabus. 

It was never easy when you would be in his study, him explaining the same topic over and over again till it stuck, because your mind would get distracted more of often than not. 

You couldn't remember how it begun, but one kiss was all it had taken for those very study sessions to end with his head between your thighs, licking at your cunt as a reward for your boost in performance.

After that, the pattern was set between the two of you. You would secretly fuck any chance you got, making sure to be as far as away from the prying eyes and ears of his crew members. 

And it was good that Law had ordered them to be away from his study during your tutoring hours, not knowing you were definitely getting dicked down by their captain, his hand over your mouth.

You both didn't need to say it, but had spoken about it anyways. There would be no expectations, no rules, no feelings. It would just be something you both could use to take your mind off of things.

Nearly a year had gone by with you still there, and the change in him was subtle, but it was there, in how his gaze would desperately dart across the room to find you first.

The crew noticed it. They always did. Not that they said it out loud. They did not know what to make of it, of you, of how their captain seemed a little less distant now that you were around.

You did not know what to make of it either, you were just making the most of the situation. But a day came where you did define your feelings for Law, and it was something you did not expect.

It was one of those nights in his private room, you his bed, skin to skin as the aftershocks of your orgasms still drifted heavily in the air.

Law wasn't talkative, nor did he open up easy. But back then you both had started to share things from your past, just small things that wouldn't bear much consequence.

But when he spoke about how he got his Devil Fruit, about the person who had saved him, the story shifted something inside you completely.

Because he mentioned a name you knew all too well.

Donquixote Doflamingo.

The moment it had left his mouth, something in you had unraveled, your thoughts catching up all at once, pieces of your own past rising up your throat. You had never imagined your two worlds overlapping like this, never thought the man you had left behind would resurface in such an unexpected way.

You did not interrupt him, did not tell him what you knew, even when it sat heavy on your tongue, because the way he spoke about it made it clear this was not something he shared lightly.

And Doflamingo's part in your story was also not something you ever wanted to speak about. Fuck, how could you forget the way Doflamingo's fingers dug into your hips, hard enough to leave bruises that lingered for days? 

Gentle? The bastard didn't know the meaning of the word. Everything had been a facade, a pretty wrapping paper concealing the rotten core of his obsession.

Somewhere in the haze of champagne and empty praise, you'd lost sight of yourself. His whims became your commandments and his pleasures your sole purpose. 

You'd convinced yourself it was love, that you had a choice, but the truth was, you'd been drowning in his darkness and calling it light.

Waking up was a bitch, realizing that the gilded cage was still a cage, the luxuries he gave you were still tools to mold you into his perfect plaything. 

You woke up anyway, shaking off the fog and seeing the ugly truth of your situation. Leaving him hadn't been easy, a necessity to salvage what scraps of your soul remained. 

You'd buried that chapter of your life, locking it away in a vault deep in your mind. Pretended it was ancient history, a ghost story that couldn't touch you anymore.

Until now. 

Until Dressrosa loomed before you, a specter of your past, daring you to deny its existence. 

The memories surged forward, shattering the walls you'd erected. His cruel smile, his cold eyes, the way he'd used your body...it all crashed over you.

Coming back to Dressrosa was like plunging into a nightmare.

Walking away from Law had been the hardest thing you'd ever done, even if you couldn't bring yourself to call it what it was. 

Putting distance between you and that submarine, between you and him, had let you pretend that part of your life was over.

You had slipped back into the fold of the Straw Hats like you'd never left, letting their laughter and camaraderie wash over you. It was easier that way, pretending that the ghost of Doflamingo and now Law didn't linger in the shadows of your mind.

But Dressrosa had other plans. This island, with its twisted games and secrets, always had a way of airing out the laundry, of exposing the skeletons in your closet. 

And yours came crashing down around you like a ton of bricks.

"Doffy... please..."

The sound of your own voice, wrecked and breathless, was the only thing filling the room as you arched your back, your nails digging into the plush cushion of the bed, your lower body off the edge.

He didn't answer with words, only a low growl as he drove into you again, his pace relentless. You were still trapped in that ridiculous bunny outfit, the thin, tight fabric of the leotard stretched taut beside your pussy, digging into your skin with every lunge. 

The friction of the material against your swollen clit, combined with the sheer size of him stretching you wide, was driving you toward a breaking point you'd been teetering on for what felt like weeks.

"God, look at you," Doflamingo rasped, his voice dripping with a dark, possessive hunger. He leaned down, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of your shoulder as he plunged deeper into you. 

"This fucking outfit... it looks so goddamn sexy on you. Like a little pet waiting to be used."

Every degrading word felt like a caress, fueling the fire in your gut. 

You were losing yourself, your vision blurring as you creamed his cock, the slick, hot friction making you cry out.

"Doffy!"

As he reached his peak, his grip on your hips tightened until it was bruising, pinning you down as he flooded you. The sensation of him filling you so deeply triggered a violent, toe curling orgasm, your insides convulsing around him with a gush.

When he finally pulled away, the absence of his heat left you feeling exposed. He let you collapse, and you fell to your knees on the cold floor, panting, your legs trembling too much to hold you upright. Your hair was a wild, tangled nest, your chest heaving..

"My sweet little bunny," he murmured, his voice smooth and satisfied.

You looked up, eyes glassy and unfocused, searching for a moment of peace but all you saw was the flash of a lens. 

Click.

The sound of the shutter was like a gunshot in the silent room. You froze, realization dawning on you as you saw the camera in his hand. 

He had captured it: the dejected slump of your shoulders, the messy, post sex state of your hair, and the shameless exposure of your body in that leotard. 

You weren't a woman in that moment; you were a trophy.

Seeing that bounty poster, your face leering back at you from the Wanted list, was like being punched in the gut. 

It was the picture that made your stomach turn. That skimpy bunny costume, the one Doflamingo had bought for you, the one he'd fucked you in until you screamed. Seeing it now, in the harsh light of day, made you want to gag.

But the real kicker was the price tag. Six fucking stars. Worth more dead than alive. More valuable as a prize than as a person. 

You stood there, staring at the paper, feeling the weight of your crew's stares boring into your back. 

They didn't understand.

They didn't know about the years you'd spent as Doflamingo's strings. They didn't know about the way he'd shaped your life, your choices, until there was nothing left of you.

You'd kept it a secret, because you didn't know how to explain it without it changing the way they saw you. But now, with that poster screaming the truth for all to see, you couldn't hide from it anymore. 

The distant roar of the crew's laughter drifted across the water, a jagged reminder of the joy you were currently failing to share. 

To them, the victory was pure a triumph of spirit over Doflamingo's tyranny. But to you, the victory tasted like ash. Every time you closed your eyes, you didn't see the fallen Heavenly Demon; you saw that fucking poster.

Six hundred million.

The number felt like a mockery. It wasn't a bounty for a warrior; it was a price tag on his once most cherished possession.

A chill that had nothing to do with the night air settled in your bones. You hugged your knees to your chest, trying to make yourself small, trying to disappear into the shadows of the deck. 

You felt exposed, as if the moonlight was stripping away your clothes. 

You were waiting for the questions, for the confusion, for the pity. 

You feared the moment they would realize that the girl that had spent so long with them wasn't just a comrade, but a woman who had been broken and branded by the very monster they had just fought to topple.

The wood of the deck groaned softly under a steady weight. You didn't need to turn around to know the cadence of those footsteps. 

They weren't the chaotic, bouncy strides of Luffy or the heavy march of Zoro. These steps were quiet.

The atmosphere shifted, thickening with a familiar presence. 

You held your breath, your heart hammering a frantic rhythm against your ribs, a sudden desperate urge to flee rising in your throat. 

But you remained frozen, refusing to look at the unexpected visitor.

"Care to explain?"

"Explain what," you said, your voice a brittle shield. You forced yourself to keep it steady, even as your heart thrashed against your ribs.

Law didn't blink. He didn't offer comfort.. Instead, he held the poster out, the photo staring at you like accusatory eyes. 

"How did he get this picture of you?"

You looked away, the salty air suddenly feeling too heavy to breathe. 

"I don't want to talk about it."

"How," he repeated. It wasn't a question; it was a command. He stepped into your personal space, the shadow of his tall frame swallowing you whole. 

The poster was a barrier between you, a physical manifestation of the secret you had tried to drown in the sea.

"It... was before you," you whispered. "Before the Straw Hats. Before everything."

"And you didn't think to mention it?" His voice was low, but the edge of it was razor sharp.

"Why should I have?" You snapped, the defensiveness rising like a fever. You hated how small you felt under his scrutiny. 

"Why do even you care? We aren't...we aren't anything, Law."

That was the catalyst. You saw his jaw lock, a muscle leaping in his cheek. The controlled Surgeon of Death flickered, revealing the man beneath who was bleeding.

"That's not the fucking point!" he hissed, the sudden profanity jarring in the quiet night. He stepped even closer, his chest nearly brushing yours. 

"When I told you about my past, when I opened up to you, I had no idea I was handing my vulnerabilities to his lover."

"He wasn't my lover! I was his victim just as much as you were, Law! That is exactly why I didn't say anything! Because it's humiliating!" you shouted back, the tears finally stinging your eyes. 

The silence that followed was deafening. You expected him to snap back, to defend his pride or demand more answers, but the sharp edge in his posture suddenly crumbled.

Law flinched as if you had struck him. The darkness in his eyes shifted, the-fury receding. He saw it then—not just the secret you were keeping, but the trembling vulnerability of the woman standing before him. 

He realized he hadn't been fighting for the truth; he had been fighting for his own ego.

"God..." he breathed, his voice losing its edge. 

He took a hesitant step forward, his hands reaching out but stopping just short of your skin, as if he were afraid his very touch might bruise you. 

"I'm sorry. I...I was being a fool."

He let out a shaky exhale, his gaze softening with regret. 

"I'm sorry...for making you feel like you had to defend your own pain to me."

He let out a ragged breath.

"It's just...the thought of him. The thought that he laid hands on you, that he saw you like that... it feels like he always has a claim over everything in my life."

"He has nothing!" you cried, your breath hitching. "It is all in the past!"

The tension snapped.

"Then let it stay there," he breathed, his eyes dropping to your mouth.

He collided with you. The kiss was a violent reclamation, a desperate attempt to overwrite the memory of Doflamingo's touch with his own. 

His hands slid from your jaw to your chest, his palms heavy and warm through your clothes as he kissed you with a hunger that bordered on anger.

The walk to your room was a blur and the moment the door clicked shut behind you, the pretense of restraint shattered.

Law didn't wait for you to turn around. He pushed you against the wood of the door, his hands sliding from your waist to your thighs, lifting you effortlessly so you had to wrap your legs around his waist. 

He kissed you roughly, his tongue searching yours as he steered you toward the bed,  finally setting you down. Stripping both you and himself, his eyes tracked every inch of skin he uncovered of you.

You sank back into the mattress, and his head lowered as he knelt on the ground, finding his place between your legs.

The first touch of his tongue was a shock of heat against your folds. You let out a soft hiss at the notion, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as he buried his face in the junction of your thighs.

He groaned against your cunt, lapping at your folds with an uncharacteristic greed, his tongue swirling around your clit before dipping deep into your soaking heat. 

He was drinking you in, his nose pressing into your soft flesh, inhaling the heady scent of your desire.

"Fuck," he muttered against your wetness, his voice muffled and slurred. 

"Missed this so goddamn much..."

His fingers joined the assault, slowly dipping in till he was knuckles deep inside you, pumping at a punishingly slow pace, the friction there but not quiet enough.

And when he settled the pads of his fingers against that delicate spot inside you, his tongue worked your clit in tandem until you were arching off the sheets, your hips bucking against his mouth. 

"Why'd you have to run away back then, huh? Mmmm...Could've had you another year..."

He was becoming intoxicated by you, his breathing ragged and uneven, clearly losing himself in the saccharine taste of you. 

Law was no longer composed.  His tongue was lashing against your clit rhythmically, his free hand gliding up to palm at your breasts.

"Law... Law!" you wailed, your voice cracking as you clawed at the sheets.

He didn't slow down. If anything, the sound of your desperation spurred him on.  You could feel the tension building in your lower abdomen as your vision blurred, the room spinning as the pleasure peaked.

"I know you missed this too, baby..." he slurred against your cunt, "Let it all out."

With a choked moan, your body finally surrendered. Your walls clamped down on his fingers as a sudden gush of fluid erupted from you, soaking his face and chest as you squirted, your entire body convulsing in the orgasm.

You lay there, gasping for air, your limbs heavy and trembling uncontrollably. Law lifted his head, his chin and lips glistening, his eyes hooded. He looked truly drunk on you, his breath coming in ragged huffs as he watched the aftershocks burn your muscles.

Not giving you a moment to recover, he surged up your torso. You could feel the scorching heat radiating off his skin, the hard planes of his chest and abdomen pressing into the soft swell of your breasts.

He captured your mouth in a searing kiss, and you could taste yourself on his tongue.

"I can't believe he touched you like this," he rasped against your lips, his voice rough with a jealousy that seeped into his very bones. "Can't believe these hands, this body, was ever his..."

To punctuate his words, he gripped your hips with bruising force, his fingers sinking into the flesh of your hips as he hilted himself inside you with a single thrust. 

You cried out, your back arching sharply off the bed as he stretched you out. 

"Tell me," he demanded, his hips rolling in a slow, grinding circle, stirring his cock inside your fluttering walls. 

"Tell me you're mine now. Tell me no one else will ever touch you like this again."

"Hahh-! Hah-! I'm- I'm yours-!"

He set a deep, heavy rhythm, the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, punctuated by your moans and his guttural grunts.

"Fuck, you feel incredible," he groaned, his forehead pressed to yours as he loomed over you.

"So f-fucking precious to me- Hahh-!...She doesn't even know it..."

"Mphm-! L-law..."

"So perfect...ngh-! around my cock...Can't believe I let you r-hah! run away... U-unforgivable..."

Law sounded as though he had lost all reason, barely conscious, his only motive to feel you cum around his cock, just like you had on his tongue.

He hooked your leg over his shoulder, changing the angle of his thrusts to drive even deeper into your pussy. The new position allowed him to grind against that spongey patch inside you with every pump of his hips, sending bolts of pleasure up your spine. 

You could feel another orgasm building, the pressure coiling tighter and tighter in your belly as he fucked you with a single minded purpose, chasing his own rapidly approaching release.

One hand grabbed on your your calf desperately, planting a heavy kiss before biting down onto the flesh to muffle his voice. That moment of pain sent you spiraling, creaming his cock in all its glory as moaned in abandon.

And it was no sooner that he reached his release, buried deep as the ropes of white tainted you from within.

Time had lost all meaning as the night went on. And you could only hope no one from your crew decides to show up.

You were no longer lying flat; he had hauled you up onto your hands and knees, forcing your hips high and your chest low in a devastatingly vulnerable position. 

From this angle, every thrust was driving into you with such depth that you felt him reaching deeper each time.

He was drunk off of you, completely untethered from his usual persona. His hips slamming into yours with an echoing slap that sounded so obscene. 

You were a mess of sweat and slickness, your skin glistening under the dim light, your hair plastered to your neck as you gasped for air.

"God... fuck..." Law groaned, his large hands clamped onto your hips like iron shackles, his thumbs digging into your waist to anchor himself.

You were too spent to do much more than survive him. Each time he lunged forward, you could only weakly push your hips back, meeting his momentum with a desperate, instinctive tilt of your pelvis. 

Your moans had devolved into wet, gurgled sounds, caught in the back of your throat as the sensation overwhelmed your ability to breathe.

Between your thighs, the creamy mixture of his multiple orgasms and your own overflowing juices had formed a slippery ring around his base. And as he drove in and out, the liquid overflowed, trailing in long, translucent streaks down the insides of your thighs.

He was relentless, his thrusts becoming shorter, faster, and more frantic as he chased the next peak, his breath hot against the nape of your neck.

"Stay right there," he rasped, his voice cracking with a possessive need. "Don't- hah! fuck! Don't move...just take it...take all of it..."

Law's pace became rapid, thighs slapping against your ass as his thrusts lost all semblance of control. He gripped your hips so tightly his knuckles turned white, his fingers bruising your skin.

"I'm...fuck...!" he choked out, his voice breaking as his entire body stiffened.

He drove into you one last time, burying himself so deep it felt as though he were trying to merge his very soul with yours. 

You felt the sudden release, the sensation so intense it triggered a final convulsion in your own body, your walls clamping around him in an all too familiar manner.

He collapsed onto your back, his heavy weight pinning you into the mattress. For several long minutes, the only sound in the room was the thudding of your hearts and the ragged hitching of your breath. 

Slowly, the frantic energy ebbed, but Law didn't pull away immediately; instead, he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breathing gradually slowing as he let the tremors subside. 

His touch, that was once so aggressive, softened as his hands slid to your waist to trace soothing circles over your damp skin.

As he finally rolled to the side, he pulled you with him into the tangle of damp sheets, the silence of the night returning. 

The weight of the past, the sting of the bounty, and the jealousy had all been washed away, drowned in the presence of each other. 

It was all worth it, even if you woke up to the loud scream of Nami the next morning.

a/n: i suck at jealousy themes.

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