lost in shinsekai

Nervously gnawing at your lip as your eyes follow the way he keeps his head down for his hat to cover his face from you. Your fingernails digging crescent imprints into your palm with the way he turns his head away when speaking to you, even when he explains your part of his new plans.

Tonight the heart pirates celebrated a birthday party for Bepo, you were sat next to him with a small smile tugging the corners of your lips upwards. Your friends sing and joke while eating and chatting with each other, but no one dismisses how their captain immediately moves back inside as soon as the surprise is over. Your lips quiver and your hands shake behind your back, aggrieved and anxious of the way your captain was acting — it was crystal clear that it had something to do with you. 

Nauseated by his own feelings, he rushes to the bathroom only to fall on his knees near the sink with a hand over his mouth. His hand clutches his shirt, the love sickness had gotten into him so badly and it was eating him slowly, and yet he was somehow still in denial. His eyes hazy with the overwhelming emotion fogging his head. 

“No it can’t be,” he whispers.

Oh yes it can be. 

A knock on the door makes him jolt in surprise, his eyes narrow at the door but he speaks nonetheless. “What is it?” 

“Captain, are you okay?” Your voice floods his senses and he winces in irate. 

“Go away [Y/N].” He can hear the faint “oh” from behind the door and he curses himself for sounding so harsh and cold, when all you wanted was to ask of his well-being. 

You turn your heel, beginning to walk away with tears threatening to spill, you felt extremely unwanted that it made you want to curl up into a ball and sob. Your bottom lip curled between your teeth as you bite down on it, forcing your anguish down your throat.

Law’s eyes squeeze shut, a hand brushes down his face and he sighs through his nose. 

«Captain, why are you ignoring [Y/N]?»

«But I’m not ignoring them though?»

«You think you’re not but everyone sees otherwise.»

«Yeah captain, they definitely feel ignored and have been so down lately, it’s becoming stressful for everyone else.»

A memory from three days ago of Shachi and Penguin comes crashing down in his head.  

Law panics slightly, he tries standing up and his knees collide with the floor again, but he forcefully pushes himself to open the door, causing it to slam against the wall a little too loudly. 

You turn to look behind you in confusion only to see him panting and holding his knees while looking up at you, his hat placed backwards and his jacket sliding down his shoulder messily. 

Your brows are knitted together and you blink at him dumbfounded. 

He rushes towards you and his hand engulfs  yours, he drags you down the hall until you’re both inside his room. Locking the door behind both of you with his hand still tightly holding yours. 

You blink away the tears that were stuck in your eyes, his body is tense as his eyes take in the sight of you. It feels as if it has been centuries since the last time he’s seen your face, and now he feels himself tearing apart with every insult known to man being thrown at himself by his inner voice. 

His tongue pokes out to moisturize his lips, words fail to leave him when he opens his mouth. All he could do was stare, stare, and stare. He is now realizing just how much he missed seeing your face, how much he missed being around you, how much he missed the fact that he enjoyed being this close to you. 

“Captain? Did you need something-” your words were cut off.

“Never did I ever think I would be feeling this way or even admit it out loud, but I think I love you.” He says it without a single thought in his head. 

Your lips are parted, but you don’t know what to say even though you felt the same way. Despite feeling hurt, you found it easy to forgive him, so damn easy that you were mad about it and yet you push the anger aside to give him a big bright smile.  

Law’s face lights up at your smile, now he understands why he was feeling extra sick when he started avoiding you.  He never realized it until now, but that smile was his main source of the small dose of serotonin, and oh how much he missed seeing you smile. 

“Tell me. Do you feel the same way about me?” His brows knitted and he anxiously clenched his fists while waiting for your answer. 

You pause for a moment before opening your mouth, “for long enough,” you murmur with a pout. 

Law’s face scrunches into a frown, deeply disappointed in himself for being always too busy that he never acknowledged your feelings for him. 

“Captain-”

“Law. Call me Law.” He quickly corrects you. 

“I like ‘captain’ more...” You admit to him, kicking your foot back and forward shyly. 

“You should get used to it from now on, [Y/N].” He nods at you with such ambitious eyes, it makes you almost melt down to the floor. 

“Okay cap-…Law.” You immediately correct yourself, grimacing in your head at the way his name rolled off your tongue so awkwardly, however, the look he gave says more than enough. 

Law’s face lights up and the sick look covering his face is long gone. You have no idea how much he loved hearing the way his name rolled to the tip of your tongue and out into the world. 

He rushes to his drawers, taking out a hat similar to the one he had on, then he rushes back to place it on your head. Your eyes widen at your captain, suddenly feeling the need to cry — all because of him. How dare he make you fall for him so hard without even trying? How dare he ignore you and make you feel like a burden even when it wasn’t his intention? How dare he tell you to go away then run back to you and confess? How dare he make you forget that you were upset with him? How dare he be so fucking adorable right now, being all smiley and excited to match hats with you? Fucking Trafalgar Law.

You decide to walk into the room, not forgetting to close the door. You walk to the place behind his chair. You put your arms around his shoulder, hugging him from behind. You place your chin on the blade of his shoulder and neck. “Why are you not sleeping? Again.”

He sighs. “Not sleepy.” He might not be sleepy but you can tell that he is tired and exhausted. You move your hands to his shoulders, and start massaging them slowly. He let out a breathy groan.

“Your body is tense.” You can tell that he is enjoying this. His eyes are closed, and his body is leaned on the chair. Suddenly, you have an idea. A brilliant idea to release his tenses.

You kiss his cheek, making the man open his eyes and startle a little bit. You walk to his side, bending down a little, you continue to kiss his cheek and jaws, then you place your lips on his. Law quickly sucks your bottom lip.

This isn’t your first kiss with him, this is the millionth, but somehow you still get the butterfly everytime you kiss him, it always feels like it’s your first. You moan and kiss him deeper, pushing your tongue into his mouth.

Your neck starts to hurt, so you pull your lips back and break the kiss, the both of you are gasping for breath. You move to stand on his front. He keeps quiet while watching what you are going to do. He thought you were going to sit on his lap, but no. You make your way between his legs, you parted them, then you drop to your knees. He smirks, liking where this is going. He leans back on the chair and puts his hands on the armrests.

Your hands make their ways to his belt. You unbuckle his belt and his pants. You pull down both of his pants and boxer, he lifts his hips a little to help you pull them down. You spit in your hand before you wrap your hand around his semi hard dick and gently moving it up and down. He lets out a moan at the feeling of your hand on him.

You can feel his dick starting to grow more. You grip it firmer. His chest starts to heave up and down. You bring your face toward his dick. Your gaze is pierced on his, you slowly licking his dick from the base to the tip. He let out a shudder breath. You kiss the tip, then trailing down to the base.

Wrapping one hand around the base of his dick, you put the tip in your mouth and softly sucking on it. You roll your tongue around it, teasing him a little. He groans through his clenched teeth. You lower your head further. Your eyes stay on your boyfriend's face, watching him throw his head back while groaning. Slowly, you move your head up and down his length..

You try to put it all in your mouth, but you fail. The tip already reaches the back of your throat before you can reach the base. You bob your head up and down. You put your hand around the length that couldn’t fit in your mouth, and move it up and down the same rhythm with your head.

With the constant movement of your head, your hair is now covering your face. It bothers your boyfriend, so he moves his hands to reach your hair and gathers it, then he holds it like a ponytail with one of his hands.

His hips thrusting into your mouth, making you gag around him. He enjoys the sound of you slurping and gagging on his dick. Drool escapes your lips and dribbles to your chin. He jerks his hips up faster, hitting the back of your throat. With each thrust, his dick forced its way harder into the back of your throat. With the hand that is on your hair, he pushes your head down to meet his thrust. A tear rolls down your cheek.

He thrusts deeper down your throat, head thrown back, riding out his high. With your nose touching his pelvis, he stops his movement, then you feel a thick substance shooting into the back of your throat. He comes a lot. He keeps himself there as you gag on it. Some of his cum spilling out from the corner of your mouth. His groans were hot, they were hoarse and deep.

Once he pulls out, you try to swallow his cum. With your thumb, you wipe his cum that is dribbling from the corner of your mouth to your chin, then you bring your thumb inside your mouth.

Law is watching the whole scene with heavy breath. “Fuck.” He bends down a little, grabs you by your jaw, and smashes his lips into yours. He can taste himself on you, but he doesn’t care.

He breaks the kiss to catch breaths. He smiles then kisses your forehead. He stands up to pull his pants up. When you are about to stand up as well, he grabs you by your waist and picks you up. You wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. He starts to walk to the door and leaves his office.

Thanks to you, he sleeps like a baby tonight.

"I fell asleep.." Right in his lap it seems, your nose nuzzled into the crease on his thigh. You spy the book you'd been reading, carefully closed with a bright red book mark poking out from the slightly yellowed pages. It rests on the small coffee table not far from the couch. You don't even remember where you'd left off.

"No shit," Levi huffs softly, petting along the top of your head. "You've been snoring in my lap for an hour."

"I don't snore.." you insist half-heartedly.

"You do," Levi smirks down at you, his thumb sliding along your cheek in a quick swipe. "Sounds like a fucking barn animal. Your heads as heavy as one too."

"Lies," you laugh. Your whole body still feels heavy, limbs distant and hazy along your senses. You yawn, chin pressing into the firm muscle of his thigh. "I'm sorry I feel asleep."

The two of you have been taking turns reading though an old book. A romance, soft and sweet. A surprising choice for such a stern man, though he'd made the excuse that he was inexperienced with reading more flowery vocabulary.

Levi shrugs, "You were exhausted. We'll pick up where we left off tomorrow."

Yawning again, you nuzzle your cheek back into his thigh. You're so warm, resting heavily on his lap. Eyes still heavy, the fingers softly petting into your hair threaten to make you drift off again. Your mind already feels hazy.

"Go back to sleep," Levi hums. His gaze seems dark, the fondness in his eyes shadowed by exhaustion. You can see the telling tightness in the corners of his eyes. The slight wrinkle of his brow as he smiles softly down at you. He's tired too.

You're so comfy and warm. Your limbs feels so heavy you don't know if you could move if you wanted to. You don't want to get up but... "Do you want to go to bed?"

"Mhmm," he hums, fingers sliding across your forehead. They smooth though your loose bangs, softly dragging along your forehead to tuck the strands behind your ear. The very tip of your ear buzzes warm even after his fingertips leave. "Not tonight."

He doesn't want to move either. The thought fills your chest with a surge of warmth. "Thought my head was too heavy?"

"Shush," he replies with a small huff, eyes warm.

Eyes threatening to flutter closed, you nuzzle your cheek into his thigh. He smells nice too. He always does. Rich and clean, masculine without the salty tang of sweat. Like soap, standard issue sandalwood, and something rich and uniquely Levi. With a large inhale, you let the smell bathe your already heavy senses.

Eyes barely open, just a tired sliver, you meet his gaze again. With a wide yawn, you eye his slackened posture. The usual ramrod stiffness of his spine has given way to a light slouch, a rare sight. Levi yawns right back in response. "Are you gunna sleep too?"

"If the snoring animal doesn't keep me up," he responds. Your lips twist somewhere between a pout and a frown and Levi smirks down at you again. Fingertips massaging soothing circles into your scalp, his voice is assuredly soft, "I'll try."

"Promise?" You worry about his sleeping habits. He's been doing better lately, especially since you gotten together, but it's obvious he struggles. You aren't exactly sure how much he sleeps, how often he fakes it for your comfort. Maybe this position will work better, perhaps the familiarity of sitting up will help him.

Having your head in his lap, his fingers thoughtlessly playing with your hair, seems to have relaxed him at least.

Levi only hums in response. "Close your eyes." The words are firm yet featherlight, the fingers winding along your scalp applying slightly more pressure. They urge you to twist your head away, your gaze falling from his heavy lidded dark silver, nose pressing into the crease of his thighs again.

He could tell that somewhere deep down you did respect him, but you had a rather… unusual way of showing it. While you eventually followed through with Law’s orders, you often didn’t do so without a borderline unbearable amount of bickering with the captain. No matter what he did, you seemed dead set on pushing every one of his buttons that you could, drawing satisfaction when the Surgeon of Death lost his composure. It was confusing, it was infuriating, but for some reason, Law found himself letting you get away with it most of the time.

However, there was another thing about you in particular that stumped him: your strange attire.

Ever since Law met you, he noticed the sheer number of clothes that you wore. Layer after layer, you bundled yourself up in jackets, pants, shirts, anything, as if you were preparing for the largest blizzard known to man every time you stepped out of your room. It was almost comical how you were nearly drowning in your own attire.

At first, he had chalked it up to your origins. You were from a winter island, after all, and a painfully frigid one. It would make sense for you to layer up for warmth in a place like that, and old habits die hard. It wasn’t until your second month as a Heart Pirate that Law began to wonder, but he decided it was best to keep his curiosity to himself.

Lost in thought, Law hardly noticed Shachi’s repeated question until the poor man was practically yelling.

“Captain?” Shachi let out a sigh of relief when Law finally turned to him. “Captain, shouldn’t we wait on (Y/N)? She’s not out here yet.”

Bepo nodded. “I don’t think it would be fair for us to search the island without her. She always loves it when we dock at new places.”

Law blinked at the two of them before turning to glance around the deck. Sure enough, he didn’t see (Y/N)-ya’s familiar face in the crowd. How had he not noticed that she was missing?

“Hm,” he hummed, lips turned down in a frown. Scanning the crowd yet again for your face, Law let out a frustrated sigh when he was met with no sign of you. “I thought I was clear that we would be leaving at noon.”

“Do you want me to get her?” Bepo asked. “She probably just slept in, you know how she-”

“That won’t be necessary,” Law cut in. “I can check on her myself.”

A silence fell over the Heart Pirates, the discomfort prompting Law to glance around at his crew. To his annoyance, each pirate wore a similar expression of worry on their face, and Law couldn’t help but feel that their concern wasn’t for him. There was nothing wrong with him going to check on a crewmate, so why did they all look like (Y/N)-ya was about to be murdered in cold blood?

Law rolled his eyes. He didn’t have the energy for his crew’s antics right now. There was absolutely nothing weird about him going to get (Y/N)-ya himself. He’s her captain. If she’s not on schedule, it’s up to him to remind her the importance of punctuality on his crew. He had an exact mental itinerary for how this day was to go, and he would not have her tamper with it. Tearing himself away from their stares, Law made his way toward the girls’ rooms.

By the time he arrived at (Y/N)’s door, the room all the way at the end of the hall, Law had drafted a complete lecture in his head. He knew exactly what he would tell you, exactly how he would tell you, and he had even calculated a few possible reactions he might receive from you. So, raising himself to his full height and fixing a stern expression on his face, Law knocked.

Silence.

He knocked again.

…And again.

Law’s frustration erupted into full-blown rage. He knew you had a tendency to be late, but to embarrass him by ignoring his knocks not once, not twice, but three times? No, to say Law was angry was an understatement. Law was infuriated.

Without a second thought, Law turned the door handle and made his way into your room. His arms folded defensively over his chest, and his mouth fell open in preparation to hurl a string of likely unkind words toward you. Whether those words were to question your audacity or to generally rebuke you for your silence, he didn’t know.

Moreover, he didn’t think he would ever know, for any train of thought came to a screeching halt at the sight he observed before him.

Bent over and in nothing but your underwear and a backless black shirt, there you were in all your glory, facing away from him and lazily wringing shower water out of your hair with a towel.

Law had absolutely no idea what to do. Should he be looking? No, he definitely shouldn’t be looking at the way the waistband of your underwear hugged your hips. Or the way the criss-cross strings of your shirt were being stretched across your back, revealing planes of muscle that he never- Get a hold of yourself. He just needed to look somewhere else. The wall? The bed? The floor? Law’s eyes darted from left to right, attempting to stare anywhere but your backside.

It wasn’t until his eyes passed over you a third time that he noticed a flash of black ink swirling around your left hip.

Was that… a tattoo?

Sure enough, Law recognized a beautiful tattoo of an oddly familiar-looking vine. The plant started from below your waistband, curling around your left hip and trailing up your spine until it branched off across your shoulder blades into several spiraling tendrils. As his eyes swept across your back, he caught note of the various flowers and thorns that the vine bore. He found himself tracing the spiraling pattern with his eyes over and over again, from the top of your back all the way down to-

“What the fuck?!”

Law’s eyes snapped away from the canvas of your back, instead making eye contact with a bewildered, flustered, and very angry (Y/N). Scrambling away from Law, you pointlessly used the too-small hair towel as a makeshift curtain, attempting to hide your exposed skin from his view. “You couldn’t have knocked first?”

So prepared was he to give you the lecture of a lifetime, and yet here he stood, rooted to the ground and unable to even make simple eye contact with you. He shifted his weight awkwardly from foot to foot, placing his hands on his sword, then at his side, before retiring them to their comfortable place within his pockets. It was just a tattoo. Nothing abnormal. Pursing his lips, he steeled his nerves and forced his gaze to meet yours.

“I did knock,” he said eventually. “You just refused to answer.”

“So barging into a half-naked woman’s room was your solution?”

Law sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his hand. “I came to tell you that you’re late.” He then dropped his hand from his face, fixing you with an authoritative glare. “All of us agreed to set out for this island at noon, so there’s no reason you should be here unclothed.”

“...And this excuses you checking me out, how exactly?” You shoot back at him, about ready to give up on the tiny excuse for a towel. It’s not like it was really hiding anything from him anyway.

Law’s eyes widened for about half a second before returning to their original harsh stare. “Checking you out?” He crosses his arms, the malice practically tangible in his gaze.

“Yeah,” you fix him with a glare of your own. “Last I checked, staring at someone’s ass constitutes ‘checking out,’ Captain.” Before he could respond, you simply tossed the towel aside and turned back around, bearing your tattooed backside to Law yet again. While searching for the pants you planned to wear that day, you attempted to backtrack a bit. “I’m almost ready. Sorry for being late, I lost track of time.”

“That vine was common in your hometown.”

You freeze, almost forgetting the tattoo that your current position displayed for him. He was right, though. Just before embarking on your first journey with the Heart Pirates, you had made the impulsive decision to get a tattoo. It was meant to be something small, just a memento that would remind you of home from time to time while at sea. However, your town’s tattoo artist had a way with words, convincing you to instead receive the elaborate design you now bore on your back. It took you by surprise that Law would remember that vine, even if it was one of the only plants that your hometown’s icy weather didn’t destroy.

You find yourself caught yet again by surprise at the much calmer expression now on his face. Rather than smiting you with a glare hateful enough to rival Satan himself, Law now regarded you with what seemed to be mild interest. If you were correct, his eyes had a twinkle of what looked almost like… curiosity.

“Yeah,” you said finally. “I thought it’d be a nice tribute to my hometown. It’s the only place in the world that grows vines like these.”

Law hummed in understanding. “It’s distinctive. Meaningful. …I didn’t know you had a tattoo.”

Still unsure of this new attitude of his, you continued to speak as if you were walking on eggshells. “I got it just before we left my town.”

A flash of recognition passes over his face. “The tattoo parlor.”

“You saw it?” Your eyebrows quirk in surprise. The tattoo parlor wasn’t quite hidden, but it definitely was not widely known.

He nodded, his eyes widening ever so slightly in excitement at the topic. It was a strange look on him. Not a bad one, per se, it was just foreign to see such an innocent emotion on the Surgeon of Death. “I noticed it by the river. The designs caught my eye.”

“Why? You wanted another tattoo?” You smirk. “You’re pretty tatted up already, don’t you think?”

A smirk tugged at his lips, but for some reason it didn’t seem quite so cocky. Instead, it almost seemed… playful. Lifting his hand with his palm facing toward him, he wiggled his inked fingers. “I like tattoos,” he said simply.

“Me too,” you grin. It was strange. Looking at Law now, he seemed like a different person entirely. With his new, friendlier mood, you thought it might be worth a shot to test the waters. “Since we both like tattoos, how about you let me off the hook for being late?”

Immediately, whatever child-like innocence he once displayed melted into an ugly glower.

“Not in the slightest. You have kitchen duty for the next month.” Turning around, he ignores your sputters of protest. Just before he closes your door, he makes sure to call out behind him. “And for every minute that passes, you have an extra day of it.”

Also surprising, however, was the overwhelming concern from a certain surgeon. 

“Water.” Law’s voice was stern as he watched your pouting form from the doorway. He had watched your cold slowly progress as the days wore on, only noting the symptoms whenever he caught sight of you. But now, it had been exactly 4 hours since your fever began again, and for some reason, Law was unable to leave your room. 

Logically, he knew you would be okay. It didn’t take a doctor to realize that a simple fever wouldn’t take you out. Even so, he thought it reasonable, as a doctor of course, to be concerned for your recovery. 

“I just drank an entire glass,” you reminded him, tone leaning more toward annoyance than appreciation for his time and effort. 

He frowned at you.  “This morning doesn’t count. It’s already the afternoon.” He motioned at the full glass on your nightstand. “Drink another.”

You huffed. In the beginning, you were grateful for the surgeon. Law brought you medicine, water, and even food when you were unable to retrieve any of these yourself, and his presence was comforting in a familiar sort of way. You didn’t even mind his snarky side comments every now and then. Yet, as your fever began to lessen, you were beginning to find his constant presence a bit overbearing. 

“Law, like I said, I drank water already,” you sighed. “I’m going to be fine. And besides, Chopper is perfectly capable of taking care of me too, you know. He comes in every morning to check up on me, and each time I’ve been okay. You don’t need to worry so much.”

Law’s scowl only deepened at your words. He knew he could trust Tony-ya with you — the reindeer was well-informed on the various illnesses within the New World — but he couldn’t help it. Something was pulling him toward your room. There was a sinking feeling in his gut, a deep discomfort that continuously forced him to your door against his better judgement. He almost couldn’t sleep if he didn’t check on your condition himself. 

These, however, were realizations that Law preferred not to think about. Instead, he resorted to his default explanation: “I’m a doctor, (y/n)-ya. It’s my job to be concerned when someone is ill.”

“I swear to God, Law-“ you started, before erupting into a fit of coughs. 

Immediately the doctor was hovering over your bedside, all trace of annoyance dissipating into the air. His mind was racing a mile a minute, and he cursed his thoughts and their inability to think up a solution for you. 

If he could, he would’ve taken your illness upon himself. He cursed those thoughts too.  

When your fit subsided, Law peered down at you, and examined your face for any signs of lingering discomfort. After finding none, he proceeded to analyze your current condition from his closer position at your bedside. He noted that your face seemed less flushed, and your eyes also seemed less bloodshot, both possible indications that your fever had continued to subside. Just to be sure, he brushed his fingers against your forehead and felt for your temperature. 

You had planned to give Law a piece of your mind, to let him know how suffocating he was being, but now, as his fingers lingered against your forehead, all the words dried up in your throat. Suddenly, you became hyper-aware of the close proximity between the two of you. The upper half of Law’s body hovering over you, his eyes drifting over your face, his fingertips grazing your forehead, your temple, and slipping down to cup your cheek in his hand. 

“Your fever broke,” Law’s voice was barely above a whisper. His breath seemed to catch a little in his throat as he murmured, “Though you still seem a bit flushed.”

Embarrassingly, you found yourself leaning into his touch, and Law felt his heart clench at the action. He was just checking your temperature after all. Maybe holding a person’s cheek was an odd way to do it, but that wasn’t important. But, god, you were being so vulnerable, and he wanted nothing more than to preserve that vulnerability, to protect you, to help you.

Well, it’s his job to help you, of course. As a doctor… of course.

It wasn’t until his thumb began tracing mindless circles into your skin that Law retracted his hand, finally admitting to himself that maybe his actions weren’t quite as professional as he had hoped. Only, when he attempted to pull away from you, he was stopped by a small tug at his wrists.  The move was an innocent action from you, and you intended it as nothing more than a little nudge to get the doctor to continue his gentle actions. However, when he was in the middle of standing up and already off balance, it was an absolute recipe for disaster. 

Unprepared for the sudden pull at his arm, Law toppled back over you. Only this time, rather than have his hand cupping your cheek, both of his hands dug into the cushion of your soft mattress instead. It took a split second for the two of you to realize your current position.

Palms planted at either side of your head, the Surgeon of Death found himself unintentionally caging you beneath him. His mouth went dry.

You stared up at him with wide eyes, your lips parted in a small “o.” Swallowing harshly, Law couldn’t help but notice the way your gaze wavered, constantly alternating between his own intense stare and his unfairly inviting lips. You clearly were struggling to keep your eyes on the former.  

He could’ve sworn that by this point you weren’t contagious, but if the heat rising up his neck was anything to go by, he wasn’t so sure. Before he could do anything stupid, however, the door swung open with an impressively loud crash against the wall. 

“TORA-OOOOOOO!” Law’s mind felt as if it had turned to mush, for he didn’t even think to adjust his position as the infuriating rubber boy made his entrance known. “Tora-o! There you are! Sanji said to tell you that lunch- Eh? What’re you doing to (y/n)?”

Rising as ceremoniously as he could, the doctor fixed his darkest glower upon the Straw-Hat-wearing nuisance. “Haven’t you ever heard of knocking?” He hissed. 

“But what’s the point of that when opening the door is so much quicker?” Luffy cocked his head to the side, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and his beloved hat nearly slipping off his head altogether. 

Law involuntarily slapped a hand to his forehead, muttering something about the sheer audacity of the crewmates on this ship. Before he could fully exit the room, Law suddenly stopped in his tracks. Spinning around to face you, his eyes softened with an expression that did not at all match his tone of voice. “I’ll be back. That water glass better be empty before I return.”

And with that, the Surgeon of Death closed your door and left your mind swimming with questions. It was as if your brain didn’t even know where to begin processing what had just occurred. After a moment, you simply shifted onto your side, pulling the covers up to your chin with a smile inching its way across your cheeks.