Wow! Your Understanding Of This Character Is So. . . Unique! Just Wondering By The Way But When Was The

Sub-Tastic? |Master-List|

Zoro, Law, Sanji, Usopp, Luffy x !Fem!Reader, fluff, smut, crack, NSFW, SFW, dacryphillia, fingering, riding, possessiveness

Summary: Headcannons with a loud, chaotic, and mouthy s/o who’s submissive in the bedroom. Plus PDA headcannon’s.

A/N: This is my first time delving into NSFW, so it’s gonna look a bit scratchy. And i’m not completely there with writing it yet, so I’ll be sticking to these type of head-cannons for now.

•-•-•—•-•-••-•-•—•-•—•-•

Trafalgar Law:

• Law would 100% love it.

• He has a dominant undertone, and a sub-like dynamic would work well with his possessiveness.

• At first, he’s used to your chaotic nature. Though, when things take an intimate turn, and you get vulnerable and quiet—he thinks you’re scared. He thinks you’re timid, so he doesn’t push, and he backs off. But, as soon as Law finds out you liked getting like that? OOH—prepare yourself.

• He’s quick to test out how far you’d go.

• Law’s into a little teasing here and there, but not much. Maybe a flicker of degrading, but he wouldn’t go down that route unless you wanted to.

“What happened to acting tough, huh? Where’d that strong girl go?”

“Oh, so you can be such a pain in my ass, but here you are getting all soft? Real adorable, ____.”

• If you ever got quiet or flustered, attempting to hide, it’s not happening. This man wants to see ALL of you, even the flustered bits.

“Don’t hide from me, I wanna see you.”

“Look at me.”

• Later in the relationship, he’d be much more commanding, but that’s only after he adjusts to this new you. He doesn’t hate it, he loves it, he just hates overstepping boundaries and moving too fast.

“Take it off.”

“Turn over.”

“Knees.”

• He could definitely be a lot at times—but wouldn’t we love that.

• Law’s a secluded and protective person, so he doesn’t necessarily care for PDA. You’d have to be the one to initiate it, even if it’s just a held assurance or hug.

• Law would blush, momentarily freezing before tilting his hat to cover his face.

“You’re so clingy . . .”

• His favorite position would have to do with facing you in his room, or in his bed. That possessiveness kicks in, and he wants to be the ONLY one who sees you like that. Much less hear.

• Dacryphillia is his guilty pleasure, it gives him an ego boost he’ll never admit to.

• You’re definitely having a safe word.

• Law initiates intimacy when it’s right, he doesn’t do it out of causality, but pure need. After a fight, or argument, his hands would linger, longer.

• However, if there was a time at dinner where YOU, were the one to initiate it? Sending him a look? He might just perish. He’d choke on his water and excuse himself, making sure to excuse you too.

• There’d be a lot of overstimulation that night.

• Law would play it off, but you getting worked up works him up. He has a hard-time letting go when you’re horny.

• A position that would put him in a choke-hold, would be riding. He’d push up into you, feeling you lean on him, and—gods, this man would have a hard time keeping his hands off you.

• In general, Law loves pinning your hands over your head, and you get bonus points if you squirm.

“Fuck, keep still—I can’t,”

• His pace would stutter, and you getting handsier makes him weak.

• Law loves marking you up. It’d be in more discreet places, but the next morning you’d be questioning how hungry he was.

• Hickeys would be placed along the inner of your thighs, hips, stomach—breasts, anywhere that is hidden underneath your clothes.

• He’d be snarky about it too. If you’re annoying him, or teasing him, he’d prod a certain spot marking your reaction.

“What? Don’t look at me like that. You asked for it.”

Roronoa Zoro:

• Zoro would 100% fw it.

• He is dominant, with at times a cocky attitude—so he’d be a good match. The swordsman isn’t experienced, but he’s quick to learn when it comes to making you feel good.

• Zoro might not understand it at first, he’d call you shy, maybe tease you for it, but once he realized you like having that dynamic? Yeah, no, you’re in for it more than you are Law.

“You like that? Being told what to do?”

“Say it again.”

• The crowsnest is your new favorite place.

• He’s definitely rough with you, especially when it comes to walls. But, at times he can be sweet and gentle. He’s a softie at heart, but that doesn’t mean he won’t push you around.

• Zoro’s favorite position is riding or doing it against something. Either way, he’s just going at it.

“Move your hand.”

“You can take more.”

“Come on baby, you got it.” / “Let me hear you.”

• If you got all whiny? Yeahh, he’s a happy man. To him, it just means you like it, so he’s gonna make you like that a LOT.

• Teasing? He loves it. Zoro likes watching your face get red, and he isn’t ashamed when he does. A soft smirk, with a whisper in your ear would do it. Especially at dinner—or lunch-time, somewhere where he KNOWS he can get you good.

“You’re lucky I like you like that. All quiet and sweet for me.”

“Worried they heard you? Yeah, you were pretty loud.”

• He’d be such a little shit abt it, and worst case was you could never get him back.

• Manhandling. Zoro is just constantly doing it. Grabbing you, pulling you out of the way, dragging you off somewhere, it’s a causal thing between you. Especially in the bedroom.

• Normally, Zoro would be the one to initiate sex, but if there was ever a time it was the other way around? It’d take a moment to recover.

• He’d blush, pause, before smirking and getting in your space. Yeah, you would NOT be in control for long.

“Acting all tough, huh? You won’t even last a few minutes.”

“Don’t run from me, you started this.”

• PDA with Zoro isn’t often. He’s not against it or anything, it just really messes with him. It’s the only time you can get him back for something, because he’ll blush—and try to ignore you, but fail.

• However, if someone’s looking at you? There’s an arm around your waist at all times. Even a begrudging hand-hold every now and then.

• Intimacy with Zoro is sweet, sensual, and deep. He’s the only one who ever sees you like that—and he wants to keep it that way.

• You’re Zoro’s soft spot, and he’s very protective, especially if he’s seen you so wrecked . . . So, at times, it reminds him you’re not the loud rambunctious person you convince yourself to be.

• It triggers something instinctual with the way he acts, and he can’t help it. You’re his, and that’s all there is to it.

“Don’t get all sappy on me now . . . Ugh, fine. Just come here.”

Sanji:

• The cook’s folding first.

• He’s a definite switch, not overly experienced, but he knows what he’s doing.

• Sanji is naturally attentive to begin with, so he picks up on things fast. He he loves to shower you with compliments, and he likes to pick at you, so it wasn’t hard to figure out.

• He LOVES your noises, and he’ll do anything for you to make them.

“Oh, cherie, please don’t hide that from me.”

“Do that again, please.”

“Do you know what you do to me?”

• Sanji is talking you through it the long way, and he’s not stopping till you’re spent. He needs every sound, everything word—just everything.

“You’re too sweet. I’m gonna ruin you.”

• If you ever said his name all whiny and whimpery, he might just pass out. Immediate nosebleed, immediate sit down, it takes him a second to recover.

“Say it again—mom cœur—please, say it again.”

• His fav position is smth like mating press, or just a casual lift to the leg while he looks down at you.

• Sanji loves watching, even when your embarrassed or overwhelmed. Anything is everything to him.

• The cook’s a hand holder, especially over your head or beside it. It’s comforting for him, and it has a lot to do with his gentle charisma. His hands would be running all over you; needing, massaging, holding, as it’s a reminder you’re here, and he isn’t dreaming. Pervertedly anyway.

“You’re so soft, love.”

“So pretty.”

“You’re so tight, baby.”

• And if you ever begged him? He’s losing it to that too. He whimpers, and in that scenario—he’s leaning into the crook of your neck mumbling something intelligible.

“Mmh, love you so so much.”

“You’re too good for me love, don’t beg. I’ll give you anything you want.”

• Sanji’s down for more sensual sex, so I don’t see him doing a quickie or anything rough. He’s very careful with you, and he’s adamant of showering you with love, so something like that isn’t the way for him to do it. (Sorry, I can’t see Sanji ever being rough with a woman, I mean look at him. He’s a lovable loser.)

• You might be able to sneak some time into the kitchen, or in your room (that’s if you have one), but regardless, to him: all that matters is you. So wherever there’s privacy, there’s an optional spot.

• Overall, Sanji’s pathetic for his s/o, so anything you’d ask of him—he’d do.

• This man has hearts in his eyes whenever he looks at you. “Can I get you anything my sweet?”

Usopp:

• Despite Usopp’s shyness and inexperience, he’d love it. Maybe even more than Sanji.

• He’s not possessive like Law, or rough like Zoro, but he is obsessed. Not in a yandere way, just in an innocent and sweet one. He just loves the thought of him making you like that, and he just can’t get enough of it.

• Usopp is not very dominant himself, but if you were ever submissive enough to that point, he’d become an accidental dom. He’d do a lot of things he wouldn’t even realize he’s doing, like man-handling and pushing you down, and still asking if you’re okay.

• Like, where’d that pushover behavior go??

• Usopp doesn’t know what he’s doing, imma be real. He’s a total virgin, and you might need to guide him. But once he finds your spots, yeahh he’s not ever forgetting them.

“You okay? Good, yeah—that’s good, I got you.”

“You sound so pretty.”

• Most things are your ideas and preferences. He runs on your schedule, and has a constant fear of pressuring you. He knows you’re a bit quiet and subtle—and he’s exactly the same.

• Though, when he wants to do something, it’s clear but hinted. He stares, a lot. Without even realizing, and it’s kinda pathetic.

• He definitely zones out. But, who doesn’t love a pathetic smitten, sniper. A win is a win.

“Huh? What are you talking about! I’m not looking at you—I’m uh, looking at the uh—floor! Yeah, counting grooves, yeah, that’s it. Grooves—oh look over there! Haha—anyways!”

• Usopp doesn’t really tease, if anything he freaks out. Mostly on the inside, but sometimes on the outside. Like if you’d melted, or grabbed a sensitive spot when you’re cuddling? Pfft—yeah he’s a blushing mess.

• Even during sex.

• Usopp’s incredibly gentle and tender, even if you want it rough. He’s hesitant, but it’s not because he doesn’t want to do anything with you, it’s just because he’s scared of doing something wrong.

• But if you were whimpery? That might just fix that. It gives him an ego boost, much like Law, but it’s also comforting because he knows what he’s doing is making you feel good.

• He’d get all mushy, and upfront, grabbing your waist and pulling you closer while he works his fingers. Speaking of, that’s one of his favorite things to do, he loves how you feel.

• He loves holding your waist, especially rubbing along your sides where he can see your breasts and face.

• When Usopp gets flustered, it’s by the simplest of things. If you were to causally lean against him? Holding his hand? Immediate blush. Or if you say something unriconically sweet, he’s overloadfully timid.

“Ugh, ___, you’re too good to me. Why are you . . . so sweet?”

“You can’t just say stuff like that!”

“Don’t make that noise—you’re so weird!”

• He’s lying, he loves it. He just doesn’t know how to deal with it. The sniper would never get sick of it.

• Usopp is chill with PDA, he’s touchy touchy believe it or not, even if he’s self-conscious when you do it. A gentle hand would hold yours, or a comforting arm would rest on your shoulders as you walk through public.

• Usopp casually calls you his, he loves showing you off. Not in a trophy-like way, but in a way he’s proud of who he’s with.

“My ____? She’s great! She’s like—really sweet, loud sometimes, but she’s the best!”

“You’re no match for my girlfriend! She’d kick your ass in an instant!”

• He’s speaks very highly of you.

Luffy:

• Wouldn’t expect it from you, but his reaction would be very Luffy. It’d be causal, blunt, sweet—chaotic—you name it, he’s liking it either way.

“Why are you so quiet? Do you . . . oh.”

• It’d definitely be a good match with him.

• Luffy wouldn’t be necessarily rough, I mean, if you asked he’d be like: “I can do that!” and there you go, but he’s a possessive switch. Regardless, he loves making you feel good no matter the dynamics.

• Your captain’s a sucker for your pathetic reactions, and he’s not afraid to manhandle you.

• Luffy doesn’t know what he’s doing, he’s gonna act like he is, but he’s inexperienced. You have a lot of questionable and confused moments, though they end up sweet and dorky in the end.

• He’s just a bunch of rubber you’ll love anyways—so it doesn’t really matter. But he does know the gist of intimacy, he’s not completely stupid. Most of the time anyways.

• I don’t see him making any moves at FIRST, but when it happens—it just does. It’s like his sleep schedule, whenever he’s sleepy—he’ll sleep. But, whenever he’s horny, he just is.

• When he’s in the mood, he’s much more touchy, and it’s probably when you’re cuddling. Or he’ll just say something out of the blue.

“I wanna do somethin.”

“M’wanna touch you.”

• It’s mumbled in your chest, or while he’s kissing you, there’s no in between.

• Luffy loves your noises, and only wants them for himself. He’s not the jealous type, but you? Your his, and only his. So only he wants to hear those noises.

“You sound so pretty, do that again.”

“Shh, don’t want anyone else to hear you.”

• His hand would cover your mouth, grabbing and tilting it however he wants it, making sure your looking where he wants you to.

• He’s very handsy, if you haven’t noticed.

• Luffy can be really tender. He’s not all the way across the line of being gentle, because he can get really fast, but cuddly sex is the most you’ll get out of him.

• He’s for whatever positions you are, and he’s really just taking you from wherever. Behind you, infront of you, on the side of you—he literally can’t get enough.

• Luffy is the type to shift mid-way and find a better angle to get at you, so yeah, I’d personally be prepared for a long night. He has a lot of stamina, even if you make him a little weak in the knees.

• He’s 100% an eater, he def craves it. And he isn’t afraid of showing it. From the back—or front, he just loves you all around.

“You taste so good.”

“So wet for me.”

• He ironically has a dirty mouth, but that’s just because he’s blunt and too honest. So most things sound impulsive, but he means it, and there’s no apology or embarrassment for it.

• Luffy loves PDA. Not to the point of kissing you in public, but there’d be a quick peck to the cheek or head. He loves dragging you around, from carrying you on his shoulder, or pulling you by your hand.

“Oi! Come on let’s go—you’re so slow!”

• Much like Usopp, Luffy is very proud of you. He’s proud of who he’s with—as all the one piece men would be, but Luffy especially.

“Shishi! She’s the best, you should meet her sometime! She makes the best snacks!”

“____ goes on adventures with me all the time, we find the coolest stuff—“

• Definitely blabbers on about you.

RUN, RABBIT, RUN: Part 3

To the Garden

Trafalgar Law x Reader Zombie Apocalypse AU

Part 3 of my @infixop gift for @namism!

CW: Zombies, mentions of death. Pretty tame compared to the other parts tbh. No use of Y/N or gendered pronouns.

WC: 5384

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(A/N at the bottom)

Law is gone when you wake up. 

You don’t realize at first. The warmth from the blankets and the soft mattress below you keeps you on the edges of sleep. With your eyes closed, and the thoughts in your head not yet coherent, the past three days are almost like a bad dream. Nothing is real, and when you sit up, you’re sure you’ll be back in your own bed, waiting for your alarm to sound despite waking before it. You’ll get up, drink water and go through your morning routine like usual. Almost like everything was just a nightmare to wake up from.

Your eyes snap open. 

The bed beside you is empty. 

You frantically scramble out of the covers, tripping over yourself to slide on your shoes as you hurry to the door.

The apartment living room is empty. So is the bathroom. So is the kitchen. 

Where is he? Through your frantic thoughts, that one rises to the surface. Maybe you shouldn’t have trusted him. Maybe you should've left the night before— abandon him before he could you. 

Your bat is by the front door. It’s untouched, the wet carrion that covered it now dry. You grab it, and yank open the front door. 

Law is standing there. 

His arm is still snug in its sling and a surprised expression is plastered across his face. 

“Are you okay?” He says.

A rush of relief spreads through you, wobbling your knees. You don’t fall. You won’t allow yourself to— but you still speak up, voice hoarse from sleep. “I thought you left.”

Law rolls his eyes at that, nudging you out of the way as he enters the room. He drops Kikoku from his shoulder, resting her against the little ottoman by the door, and sets a plain grocery bag on top. He then turns to you, easing your bat from your hand and placing it gently by Kikoku. 

“I said I won’t leave you.” Law says, then gesturing to the grocery bag. “I was looking for food. He left a lot of supplies.”

At the mention of ‘he’, you gag. 

Right. You killed someone yesterday. Law, if he looked through the whole building, must have found the body already. He’s probably put two and two together. Law steps towards you, reaching out, but you shake your head. 

“Did you go upstairs?” You choke out, eyes wide. 

Law pauses then. He’s staring at you again. His gold gaze is heavy, different from last night but all the same. 

You feel your stomach flip.

“Yes.” He finally says, voice even and soft. “I don’t fault you for doing what you did. I can imagine it was a moment of intense stress, and you did what you needed to survive.”

You shrink back. An array of emotions swell up from the deep dark well inside you. You feel the need to scream and cry and laugh all at once. So you do nothing. You sway the few steps to the little armchair, and collapse into it. 

Your eyes are dry. 

The silence lingers. Despite the sleep you got, you’re still so, so tired. The armchair melts around you, and it feels like you’re falling. The world blurs and you can’t feel your toes. The void of nothingness is a comforting presence. It’s easy to fade into it, disappear into somewhere far from here.  

Law steps in front of you. He kneels, the sling a bright contrast from his dark clothes and hair. Carefully, he touches your hand, lying limp on the armrest. 

“Hey.” 

You glance at him, feeling returning somewhat to your body. 

“Let’s eat first.”

~~~~

Law seems to be handling everything too well. 

You suppose it's the nature of his job, to keep calm and keep others calm even in the most stressful of situations. He’s good at urging you back from yourself, to get you moving again despite the hole in your own morality. 

After packing the leftovers, you leave the shade of the building for a bright, hot sun and light blue skies. The post rain air is fresh. Months of dust has been washed away, leaving behind cleaner streets slowly staining under your feet. Law is a lot more talkative today— or there might just be a lot to get through. 

He waits until you’re well on your way to start, around three blocks from that fateful apartment building.

“I have a satellite phone. It’s out of batteries. They’re type AA. We should aim to find some today.” Law says. 

“Was there none at the apartment?” You say. 

“No.” Law says. “I checked.”

You make a sound of acknowledgement. The sun is melting away the discomfort of the morning. It’s hot on your skin, and you’ve already opened the front of your jacket. The lapels sway with your every step. 

“I can use the phone to contact the camp I was living at on the other side. Then someone can come pick us up.”

“There are others there?” You ask. 

“Yes.” Law replies. “I know some very resourceful people. We managed to make it across the river before things got as bad as they are now. It’s pretty safe there.”

The question from yesterday morning comes back to you. And this time, you’re not afraid to ask it. “Why are you here?” 

When Law doesn’t answer, you stop. At the disappearance of your footsteps, Law turns around. You frown at him, then rephrase the question.

“Why are you here? On this side.”

Law starts walking again, but this time, he does answer. “There is a pharmacist at the camp. He wanted to make an antibody for the infection but we didn't have a lab. I’m the only person there that knows what he needs and might potentially need. We can’t waste a trip like this.”

“Why didn’t he come himself?” You jog to catch up.  

“He’s sixteen.” Law replies.

“Oh.” You say.

Law is easier to talk to than you thought. The topic quickly reels from the camp to Law’s medical career to the various series you both used to read— and Law has never gotten as animated as now, expressions exaggerated and voice tinted with a childish excitement. 

You can’t help but laugh. Not at Law, but with the contagious happiness that is spilling from him. The sun is making everything better. You welcome the warmth with open arms.

It’s been around three hours since you left the apartment. The streets are mostly empty. Occasionally, the two of you have been stepping into empty shops in search of the batteries Law so desperately needs. It’s the third one, always the third one, that you enter where you find something you need. 

The cracked glass door tears away easily with your kick. The shop is dark, but with your bat, the lack of light does not scare you. You shuffle around first, doing an interior check. When all you find is the crack of plastic bits underfoot and the scent of dust, you motion Law inside as well. There isn't much as you slowly look around, browsing the empty shelves until something makes contact with your foot and shoots across the aisle. 

“You okay?” You hear Law ask from the other side. 

“Yes.” You call back. You look down to see what you kicked. It’s a little toy plane, it’s bulky body speaking of a potential battery cavity. You pick the toy up. It’s heavy and full of dust. You turn it around, blowing the dust off the cover, and pop it open. 

Inside are batteries! AA ones at that— and you quickly unlatch the rest of the cover, ripping out the pair. 

“Here!” You run around the isle, handing them over to Law, who eases his bag from his arm, and sets it on the ground. You help him unzip the top, and are surprised to see the contents, finally. Endless clear plastic dishes and tubes and pipettes, all organized in sterilized packaging. He carefully rummages through the organized mess, pulling out the satellite phone. 

It’s almost like a radio, with how chunky it looks, but you guess it can be called a phone if you compare it to the ones from a century ago. You help him unlatch the back, popping out the dead batteries and switching them with the new ones. 

With bated breath, you wait for Law to turn it on. The seconds are agonizing— but you breathe a sigh of relief when the screen on the front lights up. 

“Oh good . . .” You say, mostly to yourself, as Law begins to dial. The sound of tapping buttons fills the air, and then you wait. 

“Law?” The line connects with a beep. A voice travels through from the other side. Law visibly deflates. He slides down against the counter. His coat sags against the floor, and Law leans forward, resting against your shoulder for support.

“Yes Bepo, it’s me.”

“Law!” You think this Bepo guy must be crying from the way his voice cracks. “I knew you’re okay! Guys! It’s Law—” The other side of the line descends into chaos. 

You turn to Law then, and he laughs. The sound is low, and he sags more of his weight against you, causing you to almost fall over. You curse at him, trying to push him off but Law doesn’t budge. He merely laughs harder. 

“Law?” The same voice comes through from the other side. “Tell us where you are!”

Law, in all his genius, begins answering in numbers. 

“How do you even know that shit?” You interrupt. “Just tell them the street we’re on. We all live here, you know.”

“Who’s that?”

Law hands the phone over to you, and you introduce yourself. There’s an apprehension when Bepo responds. He quickly asks for Law again.

“Franky will be there in around thirty minutes.” Bepo says. “Be careful, there is still a lot of them around the bridge.”

“Okay.” Law replies. He hangs up soon after, turning to you with a big grin. It’s almost childlike, and you return the smile, feeling true relief for the first time in days. There are people coming for you. All you need to do is survive for thirty more minutes. 

Suddenly, your airway starts to tickle. It must be from the dust, abundant and glittering under the light of the sun, and you sneeze, barely able to block the reaction and subsequently jamming your elbow right into Law’s ribs. 

He lets out a grunt— while your body tingles from the force. However, the dust does not stop its scratchy path into your mouth and nose.

“Sorry!” You wheeze, eyes watery. The dust is not helping. “I’m going to step outside.” You don’t bother to check if Law follows you or not. There, a few heaving breaths seems to be enough for your airway to clear. 

It’s nice, really nice outside. There’s a part of you that is suddenly sleepy. You’re reminded of cats, basking in the light of the sun as they take an afternoon nap. 

“How far are we from the river?” You ask suddenly. You’ve been to this part of town before, you think. There used to be a park around here that was quite popular with families. You don’t wait for Law when you start walking. It’s like something’s pulling you beneath your feet, and nothing else seems to matter. Nothing else but the sunny skies and the growing sound of rushing water. 

“We shouldn’t go too far.” You hear Law say beside you. 

But there isn’t anything out on the streets. And it’s so nice outside. But you’ve never been this much of an outdoorsy person. Maybe it’s the fact that things are going to be okay for the first time in a long while. But then, you’re not quite sure why you’re so eager to be outside, either. 

You’re not sure for how long you walk. But it was long enough that the road suddenly breaks into a little patch of woods, growing downhill to the riverbank. Under the sun, the river is glimmering. The water rushes by with a speed you can see even from here. And just out of curiosity, that morbid, deadly thing, you step out to the street, where the view of the bridge would be the clearest. 

Like before, the bridge was swarmed with zombies. But now, somehow, the fear you were engulfed with before has faded. They’re still gross, disgusting. Stinking of death. You don’t shake. Not even when a few turn and spot you far too soon, beginning to tumble after you in a big wave. However, a curious thing catches your attention. On the tops of some of the zombie heads, you think you see sprouts. White and green, growing at different heights and different sizes. You don’t get a chance to understand what you’re seeing because Law starts to leave. 

This time, he makes sure to grab your hand. 

The sun is hot on top of your head. You tire just as easily as you did a week ago, but this time, Law makes sure you keep up. The zombies are as slow as ever. Like always, you mutter thanks to whatever is out there that’s keeping the zombies slow. Law’s steps are fast and sure, and you rely on his momentum to keep you going. But then the sound of an engine catches your attention. You turn back, and from across the white bridge, you see a truck. It’s painted blue and red, obnoxious with stripes and stars. But that’s not why you can’t pull your eyes away. 

You haven't seen a working motor vehicle since the military pulled out. The truck charges across the bridge, driving like there is unlimited access to gas. It launches bodies over the railings, crushing them under its massive wheels. 

Law stops, and you crash into him, unable to take your eyes off of it. Then it drives off the bridge and makes a sharp right turn right towards you.

It crushes through the hoard so easily, splashing body parts and fluids everywhere. Some of it lands on your jacket, and you hurry with Law to get out the way as the truck drives in a circle around you, crushing all the zombies all the while the booming reverberation of hard bass, muffled by the truck windows, thunder around you. When the last of the danger in your immediate area disappears, the window in the passenger seat rolls down. Immediately, some heavy rock song begins pouring out the windows. Law gestures at the people inside to turn it down, and the music begins to fade to a more tolerable volume. 

You blink against the shine of the truck, trying to catch a glimpse of your rescuers. Just inside the passenger’s side, you see a man with short green hair. He’s laying leisurely against the seat, hands behind his head, appearing to be asleep despite the pounding bass from a moment ago.

“Traffy! It’s super to see you alive! What’s up with the arm?” From behind the green haired man, you see another person. The reflection of his sunglasses catches your eyes first, then the volume of shocking blue hair next. His voice is loud and boisterous, and the Hawaiian shirt he wears is too colourful and far too clean. It’s almost too much for you after this week of somber death and the struggle to survive. You understand the power of a positive attitude— but this is too much. You reach out, grabbing onto Law’s coat. He shifts, blocking you from view. 

“Fractured it.” Law says, tone flat and bored. “Is Chopper good to take a look at it today?”

“Absolutely!” The driver sends the both of you a large thumbs up from inside the truck. It then shifts into a pointer finger, aimed straight at you. “And who’s this?” 

You gulp, and say your name. The air shifts slightly as the man with the green hair cracks an eye open, looking you up and down. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on edge. He’s dangerous. But you can face danger. 

You lift your chin, stepping out from behind Law, shoving your shaking hands into your pockets.

“No bites?” The green haired man asks.  

Law shakes his head. “I can confirm not.”

They seem to take Law’s word for it. The driver’s smile is back. “Super! Get in the back and we’ll go.” 

“He’s Franky, and the other guy is Zoro.” Law whispers to you he moves to open the backseat. The door doesn’t budge.

“Hey.” He says. “Open the door.”

Franky shoots him an exaggerated look of despair.

“I know someone who will get mad if you get the goo on the seats.” 

“Does that even matter right now?” Law sighs. “Did you not bring plastic sheets?”

“Forgot it.” Zoro shrugs. 

Yikes. You’re not sure your rescuers actually cared about the two of you at all. The back of the truck is open to the elements and very big. You’ve never ridden in the open trunk of a truck before. It’s an experience you fancied. The idea of the wind flowing through your hair, the sun pouring down on your face—

“That’s fine. We can sit in the trunk.” You say to Law.

He nods, and the two of you make your way to the back. Popping the trunk open, you climb up first, dropping the bags and weapons on the floor of the trunk. Then, you reach out to help Law up. He takes your hand, and steps up against the little ledge where a license plate used to be, boosting himself up to sit beside you. You pull up the open back of the truck trunk, feeling the ledge click back in place. 

“Y’all good back there?” You hear Franky shout. 

“Yes!” You answer. 

The truck shoots off before you can sit down. 

You’re hit instantly with a hard gust of wind. It blows you up and back, threatening to knock you against the railing of the trunk. Law grabs you before it can happen. His hand is warm against your wrist. He pulls you down beside him, leaning against the little window at the back of the seats. There, the hood shelters you somewhat from the artificial breeze, and you watch as the truck turns around crumbling streets and abandoned skyscrapers, until it’s barrelling down the very same bridge you and Law worked so hard to get to. 

Railings and zombies and the river below rip past you, and you can’t help but gaze at the flickering sunlight reflecting across the water below. Turning forwards, the only thing you can see is the noon cityscape in front of you, receding with each second. The last week of terrible things seem to shrink with it. Everything you experienced growing less and less, until it’s just a little speck in a snowglobe, one the exact model of your ruined home. 

~~~~

The camp is not a ‘camp’. It’s a compound. 

You realize so when the gates open for the truck, tall, chain linked fences sliding towards the left, right as Franky slowed the truck down. You had peered over the edge, eyes growing wider the closer you got. There is a wall around the perimeter. It’s tall, taller than you sitting in the trunk of this huge truck. They're thick too, almost the length of your arm.

You turn to Law. “How big is this place?”

“The living area is two blocks. We’re planning on expanding the farm again soon.” He says. “But that’s not counting the energy and water systems. Altogether it’s around five. Franky built them before the city one went out. We’ve been using them since.”

“He’s amazing.” You say. 

The truck pulls to a stop at where you assume is its regular spot. The sound of gravel crunches under the wheels. It takes a second more of idling, the rumble of the engine reverberating through your body, before the truck stops. Like before, you carefully unlatch the trunk, hopping off onto the gravel floor. You look around. There are a few other vehicles parked around the courtyard. There seems to be another layer of walls built out from a house, keeping the parking lot and gate from the rest of the camp. You turn around, getting your stuff out of the trunk. 

You help Law slip his bag over his shoulder. Holding out Kikoku, you are pleasantly surprised when he tells you to keep holding her for him. Then, the two of you set off behind Franky and Zoro. They enter the house, past the reinforced front door and the barren insides. You think there are smears of blood on the walls. You don’t want to know. Keeping your head down, you keep walking, staying in line behind Law. Then, you reach the back door. 

They push open the exit, and you’re blinded for a moment. 

Then you see everything. Plants, trees, flowers and grass. Houses with intact windows and people. Not a lot, but still many enough to remind you of a nice day out in the city. You step out behind Law, amazed by everything you’re seeing. There’s conversation bustling, voices carrying over with the wind. You look around, trying to comprehend everything. The contrast from outside the walls of this place pricks at your nerves, and you shuffle closer to Law, unsure of where you’re even going as you make your way down the street at a brisk pace. 

“We’re going to report to the main office first. And we have to let everyone know you’re here too now.” Law says. He’s looking at you with understanding. 

You hope it’s not because you look just as frazzled as you feel. 

Either way, it’s too weird. The streets are clean, the houses painted colourfully in various vibrant shades. There’s a liveliness here you haven’t felt in a long while, and even though the idea of safety is echoed in each brick, each breath and each step you take, you don’t feel it. 

“There’s a rec hall we can use further that way.” Law points towards somewhere in the distance. You nod, because what else can you do?

The four of you walk for another while in silence. The sun is still hot upon your skin, though it is further along the sky. You would usually be thinking of getting back to a safe place now— and today, your first instinct still is. But there is no more need to do that. It does quell your nerves, somewhat, when you finally enter the house that’s been remodeled as the main office. There are a few people there, a man with a penguin on his hat and a kid with a pink hat and blue overalls leaning against the counter, deep in some conversation filled with laughter.

“You’re back!” The kid turns at the sound of the four of you in the doorway, running up to you.

“This is Chopper.” Law supplies. You might’ve never guessed he was a doctor— for he gasps at the sight of Law’s arm. 

“Traffy! What happened to your arm?”

“I fractured it from a fall.” Law says. “Can you take a look at it today?”

The request for his medical aid seems to shift something in him. Chopper stands up taller, confidence growing on his face as he answers. “Of course! You can head to the clinic after you’re done here. I’ll go set everything up first!”

Chopper steps away from the counter, sliding a heavy book across the table under his arm. He waves at you, and you wave shyly back. Law has already crossed the three steps to the counter. The guy behind it reaches out, putting his shoulder as the penguin pom pom on his hat bobbles with the action. 

“Hey, Cap.” He grins from under the brim of his hat. “Glad to see you alive. I’ll let the others know you’re back.”

“This is Penguin.” Law says. “He’s a good friend of mine. He’ll get you in the registry. It’s just a good way to keep track of everyone here. If you leave the camp, you should let the main office know.”

Law, thankfully, stays with you through the whole process. It wasn’t long, per se, but the thought that you are being kept track of again after all this time was . . . somewhat unsettling. Either way, your name is now filed into one of the manila folders tucked into one of the large cabinets behind the makeshift desk. Sometime after Penguin started talking to you, Franky and Zoro left. Now, it’s only Law and you. You exit the house. 

“I’ll show you around.” Law offers. “But we should go see Chopper first.” 

At the mention of the boy, you suddenly remember something.

“He called you Traffy right? Is the nickname a thing here?” You tease. “Should I be calling you that too?”

“If you call me that I’m throwing you out personally.”

“Okay. I won’t.” You say. 

Despite his joking tone, it doesn’t quell the anxiety that’s been bubbling under your skin. It’s all far too pristine. It’s crazy that these people were just . . . thriving while you and so many others are struggling to even survive. And they seem to value the sanctity of this place over the value of outside lives. You can tell they have the resources to help much more than just themselves— but it doesn’t seem like they even want to try. 

Still, you instinctively follow him, staying close even when they swarm Law. They talk over each other enthusiastically. Law merely stands there, a soft smile you’ve learned to recognize growing on his face. 

You stand to the side, unsure what to do. 

It’s not often you feel out of place. But here, at this compound, with the sun shining over you and safety aplenty inside those barricades, you don’t even know how to feel. You suppose the usual emotions, joy, relief, even anger at these people for the unfairness of it all; but you feel nothing. 

All you want is some food, a shower maybe— with their running water— sleep, and, a dastardly thing at the back of your mind: Law.

You watch him talk to his friends, so relieved to see them again after this hell of a week he lived through. He has a life here already. And you have no right to assume he owes you anything. You can make your own life here if they accept you. So the first step to take is to prove you are worthy of living here. You steel yourself, ready to take the first step away—

But then he looks back at you, and your resolve crumbles. 

He calls your name.

You step forward.

And he next few hours are a blur. 

A shower, a tour, eating with everyone—

Law leads you through winding halls, between buildings, and leaves you with others while he goes off to do something by himself. There are too many people with too many personalities for your poor, isolated mind to keep up with.

Franky, Zoro, those two you met earlier. Zoro still stares at you with distrust. 

Nami— orange hair, orange tangerines. She offered you one when you sat down next to her in the dining hall. 

A tall woman with black hair named Robin, who showed you the library— yes, there is a library— 

Sanji, who made dinner, Brook, who sings, and Jimbe, who’s able to lift the long, wooden tables so easily when there are too many people at one and another is needed.

And Luffy, with his sunshine smile and something terrifying behind his eyes. He scares you the most.

There’s something nauseating about them. 

It’s halfway through the night, after you begin falling asleep right where you sit while everyone else is singing and dancing, that you realize why.

They’re too happy here.

~~~~

The taste of fresh fruit lingers upon your lips.

Dinner was many dishes of vegetables, flavoured, seasoned, and platters of fresh cut meat. You wanted to eat all of it, stuff yourself full until you can’t possibly down anything more but Law stopped you. ‘It’s not good to eat so much after months of malnutrition,’ he had said, so you had looked around sadly, and picked a small bowl of fresh strawberries to eat. 

They were ripe and sweet. A taste you never thought you’d experience again.

You’re so tired. But you still can’t fall asleep. 

The lingering remains of the day catch at the edges of your mind. The camp is safe, but it’s a safety that only comes from not knowing what you don’t know. It’s a utopia of ignorance, and you, with all the horrors you’ve experienced woven deep into your bones, you can’t let go of the way it’s shaped you, knowing the danger that lies just beyond these fresh, pristine walls.

But then again, everyone else is happy. No one is worried. Maybe in the end, it’s you who’s wrong. Maybe it's only you who doesn’t belong here.

You sit up. Despite the endless hurricane of thoughts rushing around your head, one thing stands above the rest. 

Law.

You need to see him. To feel him under your fingers and know that he’s alive.

You’re lucky Penguin gave you the room beside Law’s. You don’t think you can stomach bumping into anyone else at the moment. The Strawhats— as friendly as they are— make you uneasy. It’s in the way they smile, living on without a care in the world while the rest of the city is slowly dying, turning into dust under the light of the sun. 

You look both ways before shuffling out of your room, arms chilling with the new T-shirt that’s been gifted to you. There’s a little skull on it, very much like the rotting zombies outside. You knock on his door. Softly. Did Law even hear it— if he is awake? You aren’t sure. But you wait there anyways; and the seconds tick on and on in the moonlight-illuminated corridor. 

Hm, you think. Seems like he’s not awake after all. You turn, resigned to your sleepless fate, but his door opens. 

Law stands there, head free of his hat, the bags under his eyes somehow even more prominent in the moonlight. You think you look the same, haggard, even after this day of supposed relaxation after . . . everything. 

Law whispers your name softly. It’s barely there, like a gentle breeze. 

You swallow your apprehension, and whisper back. “Can I sleep with you?”

He doesn’t say anything. 

He steps aside. 

You enter his room. It’s tidy. Completely ordinary. A small desk sits by the entrance and a bed is shoved into the corner, two sides against the wall.

Law closes the door behind you, then moves to stand by his bed, waiting. You carefully step towards it. It feels like you’re intruding, forcing your way into Law’s space. But then Law lifts the blanket, and your worries fall away one by one. He’s here. And he won’t leave you. You slip in under the sheets. Law’s bed is warm, and smells like him. You lay down, then roll twice toward the wall until you feel the hard surface pressing against your back. 

He follows, easing himself back onto the bed and scooting close. You can’t see him in the darkness, but you do feel him. He sets his good arm over your shoulders, pulling you in close. His breath is warm. His skin is cold. You snuggle closer, mindful of his now casted arm. 

You can’t believe he still wants to touch you, even after knowing you killed someone. You don’t know why you want to keep him close even after he almost left you to die. Luffy and his friends, as much as Law trusts them, scare you. There is a wariness you feel around them. They don’t see you as one of their own. Not yet. Law is, but not you. 

You’ve seen what Law thinks of people he does not value. You’ve seen what he does to them in times of crisis.

But right now, with Law’s arm settling over you and your head tucked into his chest, nothing else matters. You’re safe. And Law is safe too.

You close your eyes.

A/N: STRAWHATS CAMEO‼️‼️‼️

This chapter was lowkey so hard to finish (because of this math assignment that's due TOMORROW actually killing me) but it's done! There is a possibility i'll come back and rework it in the future, but for now I'm happy with it!

This was all I had planned for the event. There's a lot that happened, and there's a lot that is going to happen in universe, but that story is for another time. I like ambiguous endings, and the image I had for the end of this story has always been something of a suspicious utopia in the middle of chaos. I also really like the concept of the strawhats being scary as shit in canon, so i played a little with that idea here.

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed reading! There might be more to come, but that is not guaranteed. I am very busy with school and I only write for fun 😔 I have a few OC x Canon stories I've been working on (notable ones include a oneshot Cowboy AU train robbery and a longer Mafia AU mashed with a Hades and Persephone retelling, and a random Kaya centered Vampire AU that has a Law and OC cameo) (the canon character in the former two is Law. I'm just a Law fan what can i say) that I'm thinking about reworking as x Readers and posting here. Let me know if you're interested and I can make a post about them.

some lore for anyone interested: yes, the zombies are going through another mutation! What is that going to bring? only more horror! They're turning into plants with airborne spores!!!

The strawhats are in a really well reinforced compound. In my head, all the named Hearts are there too. They've got their own farm, sources of protein, etc. (TW ahead: cannibalism mention in next paragraph)

I wanted to explore the possibility of cannibalism in this AU as well but this was part of the SFW portion and cannibalism was probably pushing that line a little too far. This entire fic was probably pushing that line LOL

Either way, They're resourceful people with a lot of different skills, and some are lowkey zombie killing machines, that's why they managed to build these things and survive for so long. Zoro also has his swords. The zombie population around the camp is close to zero. If i do add onto this fic in the future, I'll probably write something about an internal threat in the camp :)))

(a threat in a very familiar form of reader)

my little spin on the iconic delicious in dungeon comic, but with my favorite scene from thriller bark

“What if I write it and it’s bad-”

WHAT IF YOU WRITE IT AND ITS GOOD? WHAT IF YOU WRITE IT AND ITS EXACTLY WHAT YOU WANTED? WHAT THEN????

writing is so fun

hello!!! I’ve never asked for a request before so this is so strange but I love your writing ❤️

I was wondering if you could write something with Zoro X Reader where the reader gets injured badly in a fight and zoro is also too injured to carry her back to the ship. So he has to entrust Sanji to carry her back for him. Maybe there is a light bit of teasing between the two men but ultimately they care about their crew mate more than petty fighting. Hope I explained that well and once again love your work.

Bruised Egos

zoro x reader

a/n: thank youuuu!! hope you'll like this eheh

words count: 2.2k

tags: hurt/comfort, sanji & zoro friendship (reluctant), established relationship, injured reader, protective zoro

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

The smoke clears just enough to make out the wreckage of the battlefield. Bodies lie scattered, groaning or out cold. Blood paints the ground, most of it not yours, but the gash across your side is too deep for pride, and you’re only staying upright because Zoro’s shoulder props you up.

“Shit…” you breathe, slumping “That bastard nearly cracked my spine.”

Zoro hisses through clenched teeth “You shouldn’t have taken that hit.”

You try to laugh, but it catches in your throat, half cough, half whimper “Wasn’t trying to. Thought you had my back.”

“I did have your back,” he growls, voice low “He just went through me first.”

You look up. Zoro’s bleeding from the temple, his shirt ripped, a deep fresh cut across his chest. One arm hangs limp at his side. His swords are sheathed, but his breathing’s all wrong. Shaky. Strained.

You know that look.

“Zoro… you can’t carry me.”

“I’m not leaving you here.”

“And I’m not walking. I can’t feel my legs, babe.”

His jaw tightens. You see the war happening in his head. His pride screams to fix it himself, but his body’s failing. You lean your forehead against his, voice soft.

“You gotta call someone to help.”

Zoro’s silent.

Then a voice cuts through the haze like a damn knife.

“Ohhh no. No, no, no. This is bad. This is very bad.”

Sanji.

His boots skid to a stop in the dirt, one sleeve torn, bruises darkening his jaw. He crouches beside you, worry etched across his face “Ma chérie, what the hell happened to you? You’re—you’re—”

“I’m not dying” you murmur, almost amused.

“She’s not dying,” Zoro snaps, shooting Sanji a glare “But she can’t move. I can’t carry her.”

Sanji’s brows shoot up “So you’re actually asking me for help?”

Zoro doesn’t respond. He just glares harder.

“Oh my god,” Sanji gasps theatrically, placing a hand over his heart “Roronoa Zoro, Pirate Hunter, is entrusting me with his precious, injured girlfriend. The world is ending.”

“I will end your world if you drop her.”

You groan, head lolling back “Guys. Not the time.”

Sanji immediately sobers “Right. Sorry.” He leans in, his tone gentler now “This is gonna hurt, but I’ll be careful.”

Zoro grabs his wrist before he touches you “If you get weird, even a little, I’ll know.”

Sanji rolls his eyes, but there’s a flicker of something honest under the dramatics “She’s hurt, moss-for-brains. Not my type when she’s bleeding out.”

You snort despite the pain “Wow. Thanks.”

Zoro lets go of Sanji’s wrist, reluctantly.

Sanji carefully hooks his arms under your knees and back, lifting you with surprising steadiness. You flinch, but he adjusts, murmuring apologies the entire time. You can feel Zoro’s gaze burning into the both of you.

“Hey” you whisper to Zoro, reaching your hand out.

He grabs it instantly, squeezing it tight “I’ll be right behind you.”

Sanji shifts your weight, starting toward the ship “Take your time, mosshead. Wouldn’t want you to collapse on the way and make me carry you too.”

Zoro mutters something under his breath that sounds a lot like “dead chef walking.”

But you hear it too, beneath the insults, under the tension, is trust.

And for now, that’s enough.

“Chopper!”

Sanji’s voice bounces off the twisted trees of the island interior. He cradles you tighter against his chest, eyes scanning for movement “Come on, little reindeer, now’s not the time to play scavenger.”

Zoro limps behind, every step deliberate. He’s pale under the dirt and blood, his knuckles clenched tight. He hasn’t spoken in minutes, not since you stopped answering him.

You groaned once. Then your head lolled against Sanji’s shoulder. And now nothing.

“She’s out cold,” Sanji mutters, almost to himself “Breathing’s shallow. I don’t like this.”

Zoro stops walking “Let me see her.”

Sanji glances back “We don’t have time to switch carriers, dumbass. You can barely stand.”

Zoro doesn’t budge “I said, let me see her.”

Reluctantly, Sanji kneels and shifts your weight slightly so Zoro can crouch beside him. Zoro brushes hair away from your face, his hand trembling just enough to notice.

“Hey. Y/N.” His voice is low now, barely audible “You with me?”

Your eyelids don’t flutter. Your lips are pale.

Sanji watches him, surprised at the way Zoro’s hand lingers on your cheek.

“She’s tougher than she looks,” Sanji offers gently “She’ll pull through.”

“She better,” Zoro mutters, eyes locked on your face “I didn’t fight off three of these monsters just to watch her pass out in the dirt.”

Sanji lets him have a moment before standing again “Let’s move. We’re no good to her like this.”

Zoro stands too, but he’s slower now. His entire right leg is dragging slightly.

“You’re falling apart,” Sanji notes, voice tinged with both sarcasm and concern “Need me to carry you next?”

Zoro snorts “I’d rather be buried.”

“Wouldn't be the first time I carry you... But suit yourself, marimo.”

Sanji adjusts his hold on you again, but more carefully this time. You’re burning up now, your body swinging between chills and heat.

“You’re holding her like she’s made of glass” Zoro points out.

“She is right now,” Sanji snaps “You want me to drop her?”

“You’d be dead before she hit the ground.”

“Romantic,” Sanji mutters “Just say you love her and let’s go.”

Zoro doesn’t answer. His silence says everything.

They stumble into a clearing and Sanji spots Chopper.

“Chopper!” Zoro bellows.

The doctor turns, eyes wide “What happened?! Oh no, oh no—is that blood?”

Sanji doesn’t waste time. He kneels, laying you gently on the nearest blanket “She passed out a few minutes ago. Deep gash on her side. Internal bleeding, maybe. She hasn’t opened her eyes.”

Zoro drops beside you, his whole body stiff with tension “She was conscious right after the fight. Talking. Then she just… went quiet.”

Chopper’s already on it, gloves on, stethoscope out “Stay back, both of you. Let me work.”

Sanji pulls Zoro a few steps back. They both stand in silence for a moment, watching Chopper work with rapid, practiced hands.

“She’s gonna make it,” Sanji says quietly “She has to.”

Zoro glances at him, exhausted “If she doesn’t, I’ll kill you.”

Sanji rolls his eyes “You really know how to make a guy feel comforted.”

Zoro’s lip twitches, and for a second, just a second, Sanji sees something close to gratitude behind his usual scowl.

You stir, faintly, the barest motion of fingers twitching.

Zoro immediately drops to your side “Hey. Hey, hey—look at me.”

Your lips move, dry and cracked “…Zoro?”

He exhales like he’s been holding his breath for an hour “Yeah. I’m here. You fainted like an idiot. Don’t do that again.”

Chopper’s already at your other side “She’s stable now. But she needs rest. And stitches.”

“Ugh,” you murmur “Don’t let Sanji near my stitches.”

“I would never,” Sanji huffs from behind you “Though I was tempted to draw little hearts around the bandages.”

Zoro glares “Try it. I dare you.”

You crack a weak smile “You guys are… the worst.”

But your voice is soft, and your fingers curl weakly around Zoro’s sleeve. And that’s enough to keep him from collapsing himself.

You dream in flashes. Smoke. Pain. Arms under you. A soft voice murmuring apologies. The scent of cigarette smoke and flour. Something warm against your forehead.

Then everything fades into darkness.

When you wake up, it’s to the low creak of wood, the soft hum of the Sunny rocking beneath you. The room smells like clean linen, alcohol, and the ocean. You’re warm, safe. Your side aches like hell, but your brain is clear enough now to register that you’re alive, and tucked neatly into the infirmary’s bed.

Your fingers twitch. A shadow stirs beside the bed.

Zoro.

He’s slumped in a chair, arms folded across his chest, chin dipped low like he fell asleep mid-glare. One foot taps slightly, and there’s a fresh bandage wrapped around his bicep.

You blink slowly. Then whisper, hoarse, “…Zoro?”

He snaps awake so fast the chair nearly tips backward “You’re up?”

You nod, barely. Your throat’s dry, but you manage, “Feels like I got hit by a sea train.”

“You did,” he grumbles. He leans forward, his hand gripping the edge of the mattress like if he doesn’t hold on, you might disappear “Don’t scare me like that again.”

“You were scared?”

He looks away, cheeks faintly tinged “No.”

You smile weakly.

There’s a long pause. Then you whisper, “Can you… get Sanji?”

Zoro freezes “What?”

“I wanna thank him. I just remember… being carried. He was gentle. He smelled like pastries.” You grin sleepily “Like a knight or something.”

Zoro stares at you. His eye twitches “A knight.”

“Mmhmm. My… chevalier in shining apron.”

“Oh, hell no.”

You giggle weakly, and he scowls even harder.

Zoro mutters something about “damn curly-brow” and “should’ve let me carry her and pass out instead” but he gets up anyway, muttering all the way to the door. He yanks it open and yells down the hall:

“HEY, LOVE-COOK! YOUR DAMN PRINCESS WOKE UP AND WANTS HER SHINING FRENCH-FRIED KNIGHT!”

You wheeze a laugh and immediately regret it as pain lances up your side.

“Ugh—ow. Ow. Okay. Worth it.”

Zoro glares at you “Not funny.”

You grin “A little funny.”

Moments later, Sanji slides into the room with a flourish, one hand to his heart, the other holding a steaming mug of tea.

“Ma belle, you called for your humble rescuer?”

Zoro groans “Kill me.”

Sanji kneels beside your bed dramatically “I brought tea, special blend for pain and recovery. Also, you’re glowing even with dried blood and stitches. How do you do it?”

You take the tea, sipping carefully “Thanks, Sanji. Seriously. I don’t remember much, but I remember you carrying me. You felt safe.”

Sanji softens instantly, all flair dropping “Any time. You’re our crewmate, our family. I’d carry you through a burning building if I had to.”

Zoro mumbles, “Burning kitchen, maybe. Not a building.”

Sanji ignores him.

“Still,” you murmur, “you were… really sweet. Thank you.”

Zoro groans louder “That’s it. I’m throwing myself overboard.”

Sanji smirks “What’s the matter, mosshead? Jealous?”

Zoro doesn’t answer. He just sits back down and crosses his arms, glowering at the wall like it insulted him.

You reach out with a small smile, grabbing his hand. He looks over, still sulking, but your fingers tug his down.

You mouth, thank you.

He doesn’t smile, but his thumb brushes across your knuckles. Just once.

Sanji rises “Alright. I’ll let you two lovebirds bicker in peace. But next time she needs rescuing, I’m bringing rose petals.”

“I’ll bring my swords.”

“Romantic!”

The door clicks shut behind Sanji.

Zoro sighs, muttering, “Chevalier my ass…”

You smile and lean back “You’re still my favorite swordsman.”

He grunts. But his hand never leaves yours.

You watch him in silence until he speaks.

“Still thinking about your chevalier?”

You smile faintly “Still sulking about it?”

He glances at you “I’m not sulking.”

“You’re absolutely sulking.”

He scowls “I just don’t like the way you looked at him in his arms.”

“I was out of it. I don’t even remember much. But something about the way he held me felt safe. And soft. And dumb, and warm. I was so out of it that at some point I even thought for sure it was you.” You smirk “Turns out it was the one who wears suits to jungle battles.”

Zoro huffs “You’re comparing me to that frilly cook?”

You nod slowly, eyes closing for a moment “Mhm.”

Zoro grunts “Tch. Dumb.”

But then he leans forward, and you feel his callused hand brush your arm, slow and deliberate. His voice softens, just a little.

“You scared me, you know.”

You open your eyes again “Yeah?”

“You dropped so fast. One minute, you were teasing me. Next… nothing. Just a dead weight in curly-brow’s arms. I couldn’t do a damn thing.”

His hand closes around yours. Not possessive, just grounded. Steady.

“I thought maybe I’d lost you.”

You shift your fingers to lace with his “You didn’t.”

“I almost did.”

“But you didn’t...” you repeat gently, tugging his hand until he leans a little closer “You were there. Even if you couldn’t carry me, you stayed. That means more to me than anything.”

Zoro stares at you, unreadable. Then, slowly, he leans in and presses his forehead to yours.

For a long, quiet moment, you just breathe each other in.

No bravado. No teasing. Just warmth. Just him.

Eventually, you murmur, “You know… I might ask Sanji to carry me again.”

Zoro pulls back with a look.

You smir “Kidding.”

Zoro shakes his head, standing up with a low groan, but he doesn’t let go of your hand.

“You’re lucky you’re injured,” he mutters “Or I’d drop-kick you off the deck.”

“Romantic” you whisper.

He smirks, just slightly.

Zoro pulls the chair closer to your bedside, sits again, and this time, he doesn’t fold his arms or pretend he’s not watching you sleep.

When your eyes finally drift closed, his hand is still wrapped around yours. Firm. Protective. Unmoving.

Sanji might have carried you.

But Zoro never let go.

April fools but not me, everyday can be my day

Saw @moldychefboyardeecan post and got a little of inspiration (fighting a little of art block rn)

My OP Fanart Masterlist 2025

Law x Reader ― sick day; stargazing

part of the cozy holidays event

🎁 ― @splicer13vex tags: sfw, fluff, GN!Reader, no use of y/n, cw vomiting, some platonic heart pirates x reader, not part of the request but what the hell let’s throw in some accidental confession in here too as a xmas gift

“How are you feeling?”

Your Captain's voice was the first thing you heard when you regained consciousness.

You were shivering, your head was pounding, and your stomach churned unsettlingly. You had not felt this bad in ages. 

“Terrible,” you croaked out weakly.  

“Good.” Law said in a deadpan voice, “Serves you right for being stupid.”

You cringed, preparing yourself for the impending scolding from the Captain and Doctor of the Heart Pirates. 

He took a deep breath, “What were you thinking?” 

Here we go. 

“You should know better than to touch and smell some suspicious, unknown plant on an island we barely knew anything about.” 

“In my defense, the flower was very pretty.”

He groaned exasperatedly, “Many poisonous things are!”

“I’m sorry.” You sighed, “I now realize how stupid that was.” 

“Why did you do it anyway?”

“I wanted to show it to you.” You shrugged, “I just thought you’d find it interesting.”

His eyes softened, his frustration melting away at your earnest response. For the record, he did find the flower interesting. In fact, he even went back to retrieve some samples – using proper protective gear, of course – once he made sure you were alright. He wouldn't admit that to you, though, not wanting to justify your reckless actions.

You suddenly felt your stomach lurch, and Law immediately grabbed a bucket, just in time for you to retch your guts out. 

“Let it all out,” Law said, rubbing gentle circles on your back, “I managed to extract most of the poison with my powers, but some traces may still be in your bloodstream.” 

You grimaced at the feel of acid burning your throat. Law handed you a glass of water, which you gulped down greedily. 

“Here, take this.” He handed you a pill, “Should help with the nausea.”

“Thanks.”

You laid back down on the bed once you’d taken the medicine, pulling the blanket tight around your shivering body. The Polar Tang must have been underwater, judging by the chill inside the sub. You wondered how long you were out. 

“I need to discuss our next course with Bepo,” said Law as he touched the back of his hand to your forehead, nodding satisfactorily when he detected no fever.

“You’re on bed rest until tomorrow.” He pointed his index finger at you, “Stay. Put. No funny business, you hear me?”

You nodded.

“Say it out loud.”

You rolled your eyes, “Aye, aye, doctor. No funny business, I promise.”

“Good.” He patted your head once before walking toward the door that led to the hallway. He looked back at you just before he exited, “Try to get some sleep.”

Your mood instantly dropped at Law’s absence – suddenly all of your symptoms felt ten times worse without him there to distract you. 

You heeded Law’s words and tried to get some rest, but sleep eluded you. After around half an hour of you just tossing and turning in bed, the door suddenly swung open, and you brightened at the sight of a fluffy, white head popping in from behind it.

“Hi, sorry!” Bepo tiptoed quietly into the room, “Am I bothering you? Sorry, I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

“I’m feeling a bit better now that you’re here.” You chuckled, “And stop saying sorry, you’re not bothering me.”

“Sorry.” The mink automatically replied, before realizing what he said, “Ah, sorr–“

He chose to just shut his mouth after that.

“You came at the right time actually – I was just about to lose my mind from boredom.” You sighed, “I need some fresh air. I think that would help a bit with the nausea.”

Bepo dragged a chair and sat down next to your bed, “Oh, we’re just about to surface actually. We’re in the open ocean now, so–“

He gasped loudly and covered his mouth with his large paws, “I’m sorry! Please forget that!”

You grinned at the prospect of getting out of here and inhaling some much-needed ocean breeze.

“Oh, Captain’s gonna kill me!” The polar bear looked at you with his big, round, glistening eyes, “Sorry, I know you wanted to go out, but will you please just stay in the sick bay?”

You melted at his cuteness, patting his soft paw reassuringly, “Okay, I will. Don’t worry!”

He sighed in relief and got up, “Oh, great. I’m gonna help prepare the sub for resurfacing now. Please don’t go anywhere and get some rest!”

Once the Polar Tang successfully rose to sea level, Penguin came by with some soup, bringing over his own dinner to keep you company while you ate. 

He didn’t tell you, but you had a feeling he was also under strict orders from Law to make sure that you properly consumed every single drop of that soup.

The clear broth was hearty, warm, and delicious, but you still struggled to keep it down as the remnants of the poison wreaked havoc on your stomach.

Your promise to stay put in the sick bay lasted only about two hours after that. 

Once it was lights-out time, you crept through the dark hallway, heading towards the main door leading to the outside of the submarine. 

You cringed as the wheel creaked slightly when you turned it, but all worries of getting busted sneaking out were forgotten as soon as the first rush of fresh air entered your lungs. 

You spread the blankets you brought from the sick bay on the deck, before sitting on top of it and leaning your head back against the railing.

The stars were out tonight and you looked up at them appreciatively, savoring the unobstructed view of the heavens that only a seafarer could observe.

“I should’ve known you wouldn’t stay put.”

You whipped your head toward the sound of the familiar voice, smiling guiltily at the man leaning against the open door.

“Sorry.” You said, not really sounding apologetic at all, “It was getting stuffy inside.”

The reprimand you expected from him never came, and instead, Law just sat down next to you with a sigh. 

He was silent, eyes trained toward the stars. 

You could tell that something was bothering him, but you stayed quiet, patiently waiting until he was ready to speak.

“I thought I was gonna lose you today.”

The vulnerability in his voice shook you, and you felt your heart race in anticipation of what he would say next. 

“You went to smell that damn flower and suddenly you just… collapsed, and I didn’t know what to do.”

He took off his hat and ran his hand through his hair, “Fuck, I’m a doctor and I froze. My mind went blank, my hands wouldn’t move. You should thank Shachi for snapping me out of it, by the way. There’s a reason why on some islands, doctors are not allowed to treat the people they lov–“

Your heart skipped a beat when he abruptly stopped, realizing that he was letting out more than he meant to. 

“What were you about to say?”

His lips stayed pressed together, and he brought one of his hands up to cover the redness spreading across his cheeks. 

“Law,” You took his hand away from his handsome face and tightly gripped it, “Please.”

“I… care about you, alright?” He finally admitted, face flushed and eyes firmly on the sky.

It wasn’t what he was initially about to unintentionally confess, but it was more than you ever hoped to hear from him.

“I know I’m your Captain, and you’re my subordinate. It was never my intention to… fall for you, but I did, and there’s nothing I can do about it now. I’m sorry if this makes you uncomfortable. Please feel free to just forget about it.”

You grabbed his face in between your hands, turning his head and letting him see your bright smile.

His eyes widened slightly as you pulled him in and pressed your lips tenderly against his. 

His surprise only lasted a second, and then he was kissing you back, and it was so much better than the million times this scene had played out in your daydreams.

The stars were the only witnesses as he held you impossibly close, melding your lips together in a slow, delicate dance. 

You sighed softly against his lips, “I’ve wanted to do that for so long, you have no idea.”

Law gave you one of his rare, genuine smiles, and your heart soared. Oh, the things you would give to see his smile every day.

He firmly gripped the back of your neck and brought you in for another kiss. 

Of course, your stomach chose that exact time to ruin the moment. 

You quickly stood up and leaned over the railing, purging the soup you ate back out from the way it went down. 

Law chuckled teasingly, “Should I be offended? Do I repulse you that much?”

“Shut up!” You whined, “You know it’s not like that!”

He rubbed your back soothingly as you finished emptying your stomach into the ocean below. His hand was pleasantly warm even through the fabric of your shirt. 

“C’mon,” he placed a gentle kiss on your temple, “Let’s get you back inside.” 

“Can we stay outside for a few more minutes?”

You looked at him with a pleading gaze until he relented and said, “Fine, five more minutes. But you need to layer up.”

He took off his jacket and put it on you, before taking one of the blankets and draping it on top of that.

You dragged him down to lay flat on the deck, and his arm immediately went underneath your head, pillowing it from the cold, hard surface. 

You two ended up staying out there for way more than five minutes.

You pointed out some of the familiar constellations that Bepo had taught you as you took comfort in the warmth of his body against yours. It wasn’t long until you felt your eyelids flickering close.

Law only smiled softly when he noticed your breathing slowed into a steady rhythm.

He gathered you in his arms – one arm under your legs and the other supporting your back – and carried you back into the submarine.

He could’ve just used his powers to “shambles” you both inside in a snap, but he found himself unable to resist holding you in his arms for even one second longer.

Not that he would ever admit that to anyone.

a/n: happy holidays everyone!! and a very merry christmas to those who celebrate! 🎄 i hope this fic can be an acceptable christmas gift from me to all of you 🎁😘 this is my first time writing for law, and i hope i did him justice! i really wanted to get him right because he's such a dear character to me 🥺 also!! i'm opening up a taglist, so please fill out this form if you wanted to be tagged on my future uploads! thanks!

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊ main event page || event masterlist ₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

hi there ! i saw ur requests open so i would like to req an usopp x reader fic ! (there's should be more methinks methinks)

the scenario i have in mind is Usopp drawing reader,, artist x muse trope is my favorite <3 (established relationship please thxx!! <3)

This is absolutely adorable, and I agree. Usopp needs more love and fics—also I am SO very sorry it took me this long. I had a few other Ace fics I was working on, and I have like 17 drafts 💔

But here you go! I hope you enjoy 💪

Talent |Master-List|

100 Dialogue Tags You Can Use Instead of “Said”

For the writers struggling to rid themselves of the classic ‘said’. Some are repeated in different categories since they fit multiple ones (but those are counted once so it adds up to 100 new words). 

1. Neutral Tags 

Straightforward and unobtrusive dialogue tags: 

Added, Replied, Stated, Remarked, Responded, Observed, Acknowledged, Commented, Noted, Voiced, Expressed, Shared, Answered, Mentioned, Declared.

2. Questioning Tags 

Curious, interrogative dialogue tags:

Asked, Queried, Wondered, Probed, Inquired, Requested, Pondered, Demanded, Challenged, Interjected, Investigated, Countered, Snapped, Pleaded, Insisted.

3. Emotive Tags 

Emotional dialogue tags:

Exclaimed, Shouted, Sobbed, Whispered, Cried, Hissed, Gasped, Laughed, Screamed, Stammered, Wailed, Murmured, Snarled, Choked, Barked.

4. Descriptive Tags 

Insightful, tonal dialogue tags: 

Muttered, Mumbled, Yelled, Uttered, Roared, Bellowed, Drawled, Spoke, Shrieked, Boomed, Snapped, Groaned, Rasped, Purred, Croaked.

5. Action-Oriented Tags 

Movement-based dialogue tags: 

Announced, Admitted, Interrupted, Joked, Suggested, Offered, Explained, Repeated, Advised, Warned, Agreed, Confirmed, Ordered, Reassured, Stated.

6. Conflict Tags 

Argumentative, defiant dialogue tags:

Argued, Snapped, Retorted, Rebuked, Disputed, Objected, Contested, Barked, Protested, Countered, Growled, Scoffed, Sneered, Challenged, Huffed.

7. Agreement Tags 

Understanding, compliant dialogue tags: 

Agreed, Assented, Nodded, Confirmed, Replied, Conceded, Acknowledged, Accepted, Affirmed, Yielded, Supported, Echoed, Consented, Promised, Concurred.

8. Disagreement Tags 

Resistant, defiant dialogue tags: 

Denied, Disagreed, Refused, Argued, Contradicted, Insisted, Protested, Objected, Rejected, Declined, Countered, Challenged, Snubbed, Dismissed, Rebuked.

9. Confused Tags 

Hesitant, uncertain dialogue tags:

Stammered, Hesitated, Fumbled, Babbled, Mumbled, Faltered, Stumbled, Wondered, Pondered, Stuttered, Blurted, Doubted, Confessed, Vacillated.

10. Surprise Tags

Shock-inducing dialogue tags:

Gasped, Stunned, Exclaimed, Blurted, Wondered, Staggered, Marvelled, Breathed, Recoiled, Jumped, Yelped, Shrieked, Stammered.

Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks? 

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