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fandomfablesunleashed · 3 days ago

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Heroic Deed

Ace x reader (she/her)

Summary: When Ace boldly declares that a heroic act should earn him a kiss, you agree just to shut him up—never expecting him or yourself to take it seriously.

fluff, brief mention of blood (nothing gory), slightly suggestive, and like one swear word.

Words: 4.3k

Notes: Originally, this was meant to be a chapter in my longer Ace x Whitebeard Pirate reader story, but I won’t be writing that one anytime soon. I’ve got other stories I’d rather focus on first, but never say never. If I do circle back to it, I’ll probably take it in a different direction… or maybe just reuse this, because honestly, who’s going to stop me?

Anyway, for now, I changed it up a bit to fit one-shot, and it’s gonna be living here because I love it (I KNOW, so humble), and I hate that it’s been buried deep in my drafts for so long.

Probably needed more editing, but oh well.

English is not my first language

🫶 @captainportgasdace 🫶

Masterlist

You stood by the railing of the Moby Dick, eyes fixed on the horizon where the boundless ocean melted into a pale blue sky. Beneath your feet, you felt the subtle tremor of the ship's hull as it cut through the waves with the grace of a mythical beast.

It was a familiar sight by now—endless sea, endless sky, the rhythmic creak of wood, and the distant cries of gulls. Yet you never tired of it. There was always something new in it. Life aboard Whitebeard’s ship was as unpredictable as the weather on the open sea but never, ever boring.

Especially not with Portgas D. Ace around.

He was full of fire, literally and figuratively. Reckless, brave, and incredibly loyal. He burned with a passion that few could match. It wasn't long before the two of you became close friends. That also meant you had to endure his various antics and ideas.

One evening, as the sun dipped lower, Ace appeared beside you leaning casually against the railing you were standing by right now, with that relaxed confidence only he could pull off. His grin, that damn grin, was already in place.

“You know,” he said, nudging your arm with his elbow, “if I do something heroic, you’re gonna owe me.”

You didn’t even look at him. “Oh yeah? And what exactly do I owe you?”

“A kiss.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “You wish.”

“I’m serious!” he insisted, laughing as he patted your shoulder like a deal had already been struck. His freckled face was vibrating with laughter, that infuriating grin stretching from ear to ear. “You can’t back out now.”

You sighed, waving your hand in a dismissive flick, brushing away the absurdity of his words. “Fine,” you said, rolling your eyes, “you do something heroic… and I’ll kiss you.”

It was meant to be a joke—an empty dare, something to throw at him to shut him up. But from that moment on, Ace treated it like some sacred oath. Every mission, every duel, every single brush with danger, he’d look back at you and remind you of the promise.

“Remember, a heroic deed earns me a kiss!”

And every time—every single time—you’d shake your head, and mutter under your breath, “As if.”

Then came the big mission. It was supposed to be a straightforward attack, a show of force to remind some newbie pirates that this was Whitebeard's territory.

The sea was restless that morning. You remembered the way Ace had looked before the fight began—alive in a way only chaos could awaken in him. His flames sparked to life at his fingertips and with a wink sent your way he was the first to jump into the battle, charging straight at the enemy ship without a second thought.

You were right behind him, matching his pace and fighting off anyone who dared get close.

At some point, the battle grew fiercer, and the two of you were separated. You found yourself backed into a corner, three enemies at once closing in. If this was it, you would fight to the last breath. As you clenched your fists, bracing for impact, a wall of flames burst through the air.

“Ace!” you gasped, half-relieved, half-annoyed.

He grinned at you, panting, the fire around him still flickering. “What, did you think I’d let you have all the fun?”

There was no time to scold him. The battle wasn’t over. But after that moment, he never strayed far from you again. When he saw you fighting, he would jump into the fight and cover your back, putting a fire shield between you and anyone who dared to get close.

After what felt like hours, the enemy finally retreated. Blood stained your sleeves, your breathing came in ragged bursts, and every inch of your body ached.

Ace stood beside you, hands on his knees, catching his breath. You looked at him, ready to joke about who had racked up more enemies or scold him for his earlier reckless behavior. But then something in his posture shifted. A small wince. A stifled breath.

Your smile faltered.

He’d been hurt while protecting you.

You stepped toward him, your stomach knotting. “You’re hurt.”

He brushed off your worry, letting his hand rest over the wound as if to hide it. “Just a scratch,” he replied, but the way he grimaced with the movement gave away the pain he was trying so hard to mask.

You reached out, fingers hovering near the wound but not touching, afraid you’d make it worse. “When?”

“Back when you were cornered. Didn’t matter. You’re okay. That’s what matters.”

The joke you had ready on the tip of your tongue caught deep in your throat and died before it could escape. He had thrown himself into danger for you without any doubt or hesitation. Just like he always had. Just like you knew he always would.

“Don’t even try that,” you snapped wrestling with the lodge that appeared in your throat after his words. They were so sincere, so real. “I know it’s more than just a scratch. Let me see it.”

He let out a long sigh, already resigned. He’d learned a while ago that there was no point arguing when you used that voice.

“Fine,” he muttered, moving his hand away from his side.

What had seemed like a minor injury before now bled freely in the open air—a jagged cut running across his side, the skin around it inflamed and bruised. Blood trickled slowly down his abdomen, staining the edge of his shorts. But as bad as it looked it wasn't anything too serious. You've seen far worse in your lifetime.

“Idiot…” you whispered, eyes wide. “It’s not just a scratch.”

He didn’t answer right away, just shrugged, trying to downplay it like he always did—like he hadn’t nearly torn himself apart keeping you safe.

“It’s nothing,” he said quietly. “Looks worse than it is.”

“You’re impossible, you know that?”

That was Ace. Hot-headed and impulsive. Brave to a fault, unyielding in spirit. A relentless protector. Your very own hero.

“I guess you finally did your heroic deed,” you mumbled, your eyes never leaving his wound. Your fingers moved almost involuntarily over the skin just above it.

Ace raised a brow. Like it didn’t even dawn on him before you mentioned it. “Maybe I did,” he replied, his voice trembling slightly. “You promised to kiss me if I did something heroic, remember? I might just cash in on that now.”

Your heart began to race wildly, and the world around you faded as if time had slowed to a crawl. You knew it was coming—you always knew he’d bring it up—but still, hearing it now, after everything, with the blood still on his skin and that fire still smoldering in his eyes… it was different.

“That I did,” you murmured.

You knew he wouldn’t force you to fulfill your offhand promise. Wouldn’t hold it against you or anything. Yet looking at him now, your feet moved on their own till your breath mingled with his and your eyes locked. He wasn’t grinning now. He looked at you like this moment had been burning in the back of his mind for longer than either of you would admit.

So you kissed him.

It was soft at first, just a gentle brush of lips. But the second your mouth met his, something gave way. Ace wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you flush against him. His fingers spread over your lower back, as his lips moved against yours.

You melted into him.

The world narrowed until it was just the two of you—heat and breath, blood and fire, hearts beating in the same rhythm.

The taste of him, the scent of smoke and salt, and the feel of his warm body against yours overwhelmed you in the best way possible. You didn’t care that you were still bruised, still aching from the fight. Right here, in his arms, you felt whole.

But your bubble couldn’t last forever. Reality came crashing back in the form of sharp whistles, followed by whoops, cheers, and a chorus of catcalls from the remaining crew members scattered across the deck.

You tore away from him with a gasp. “Oh my god…”

Ace chuckled, the sound soothing as he leaned his forehead against yours. “Well,” he said, still breathless, “at least they approve.”

You groaned, burying your face in his shoulder as more laughter echoed around you. But even as your embarrassment flared, you couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your lips.

Trying to compose yourself, you cleared your throat, forced your voice into something that resembled calm, and shot Ace a half-hearted glare.

“We should… get that wound taken care of.” You hesitated only a beat before turning away. “MARCO!”

But of course, Ace couldn’t leave it there.

“You know,” he drawled, dragging out every word just to be a menace, “it’s kinda rude to call out another man’s name right after a kiss.”

He was already laughing, and that cocky grin only grew wider when you swatted at him lightly.

“Shut up,” you muttered, though your voice lacked any real venom.

You turned away again, feigning annoyance, but the flutter in your chest betrayed you. The memory of his lips on yours, the warmth of his hands on your waist—it was impossible to ignore. You fought back a smile, forcing your mouth into a tight line, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

He noticed. Of couse he did.

“You’re cute when you’re embarrassed, you know that?”

Before you could even form a comeback, a familiar voice cut through.

“Well, well, well… what have we here?”

Marco strolled over, an annoyingly smug expression plastered across his face. He had his hands in his pockets and a raised brow that spoke volumes.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s just a scratch,” Ace mumbled, waving him off and doing his best to act like he wasn’t bleeding. His nonchalance was painfully unconvincing. Maybe you should have focused on that instead of his lips.

Without waiting for permission, Marco approached Ace. His eyes swept over the wound, and a low whistle escaped his lips.

“Honestly, Ace,” his tone shifted into something more clinical. But then, as always, he couldn’t resist the jab. “Though I’m sure that kiss made you feel better. Not sure I’m even needed at this point.”

You opened your mouth to protest, to say something, but words failed you.

Ace, on the other hand, was having the time of his life.

He gave you a sidelong glance “Oh, trust me,” he said, laying it on thick, “that kiss definitely helped. But…” he paused for dramatic effect, turning his grin on Marco, “guess I could still use some medical attention. Y’know, just to be safe.”

The audacity. The nerve. You shot him a glare sharp enough to cut steel, but it only made him laugh harder, his shoulders shaking with delight. He was glowing—partly from the residual heat of his powers, and partly because you were absolutely losing it, and he knew exactly what he was doing.

“You two are hopeless,” Marco said, crouching to retrieve fresh supplies from his med kit. “Flirting like teenagers.”

“We are not—” you started.

“Oh, please,” Marco interrupted with a casual wave of his hand, not even bothering to look up. “I’ve been on this ship long enough with both of you to know exactly what I’m looking at. Don’t worry, I’ll patch up your walking bonfire here. Even if I am clearly interrupting.”

“Oh, you’re definitely interrupting something,” Ace said without missing a beat, his tone lazy, his grin absolutely shameless. “But by all means, do your job. I can always pick up where we left off… later.”

You let out an exasperated huff. That stupid smile of his. He was enjoying this way too much.

“Just fix him, Marco, before I kill him myself,” you mumbled.

Marco laughed. “Kill him? Quite the opposite of what you were just doing,” he teased.

Your jaw dropped slightly, and you were too stunned to speak. Marco had always been sarcastic, but this? This was a new level.

“Well, a woman can always change her mind.”

Ace let out a low whistle “Ouch,” he said, placing a hand dramatically over his heart as if you’d struck him through the chest instead of the sword that nearly had earlier. “You wound me. And here I thought we shared a moment back there.”

“Oh, stop being so dramatic,” you retorted, rolling your eyes at his antics.

Marco laughed and told Ace to sit down. But even as he worked, precise and practiced, he couldn’t resist stirring the pot.

“Ah yes, the famous ‘moment,’” he mused with a smirk, “the one the entire crew just witnessed.”

“Yeah, the moment the whole crew won’t shut up about,” Ace muttered, glaring at the still-lingering onlookers who were undoubtedly enjoying the show. Whistles, catcalls, and exaggerated swooning filled the background like a rowdy chorus.

You crossed your arms, trying to appear unfazed.

Marco, of course, noticed. “Don’t mind them,” he said, dabbing gently at Ace’s wound. “It’s not every day we get such… riveting entertainment.”

“They’re just jealous, y’know. I mean…” He turned to Marco, then back to you, voice dropping into that lazy drawl that always managed to get under your skin. “Not every guy gets to kiss the most beautiful woman on the ship.”

You opened your mouth—then promptly closed it. Your brain seemed to short-circuit as warmth flared in your chest. You hated that it got to you, hated even more that he knew it would.

“Shut up,” you muttered.

You had no idea how he could still be so cocky and confident, even with a fresh wound on his stomach, but somehow, that was just… Ace. Your Ace.

“Oh, you love it when I compliment you,” he nudged your knee lightly with his own. “I can tell.”

“All right, you two, enough flirting,” Marco said dryly, more than used to hearing your back and forth. “Let me finish fixing up this idiot.”

You rolled your eyes and turned away, mumbling something unintelligible under your breath as Marco chuckled to himself.

“Yeah, yeah, finish up so I can get back to business.”

You felt torn. Torn between the urge to smack that smug look off his face… and the far more dangerous urge to kiss it right off him.

You shifted your weight from foot to foot nervously. It felt like Marco was reading straight through you, and you suddenly felt ten times more exposed than you have ever felt.

You chanced a glance at Ace.

Big mistake.

He was already looking at you, lips tugged into that insufferable smirk, like he knew exactly what you were thinking. His posture was relaxed, even wounded, and his eyes shimmered with that cocky shine that had always gotten him into trouble and somehow, always dragged you along with him.

He tilted his head slightly, raising a brow in mock curiosity. “See something you like?”

You scowled at him, but it was obvious that your heart had not received the message to remain unaffected. It thundered in your chest, traitorous and loud. You wanted to be mad. You wanted to put him in his place. But damn it, he knew exactly which buttons to push.

“Just admiring your lovely wound,” you snapped, voice cold and crisp, laced with as much sarcasm as you could muster.

Marco gave a soft laugh as he wiped away the last of the blood and secured the dressing. He stepped back.

You cleared your throat and called out, “Hey, Marco?”

“Hmm? What do you need?”

“How much would it hurt him if I were to, you know, accidentally press on his wound?” you asked, trying to sound threatening as you jabbed a finger at Ace with a sly grin.

“Oh, it would hurt a lot, actually.”

“Thanks, Marco. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Marco laughed heartily. “Now, now, play nice.”

“Yeah, ‘play nice,’” Ace repeated.

Crossing your arms, you looked unapologetic. “Oh, lighten up. I was just kidding.”

“Of course you were,” he muttered.

“Oh, don’t be such a baby.”

“Oh, shut up. I’m not a baby.”

“Oh, really? Then why are you pouting like one?”

“I’m not pouting,”

“Sure you’re not.”

“Wow, you two are really something. But it’s nice you finally stopped hiding your feelings.” Marco interjected not wanting to hear your childish argument anymore.

Shifting back into doctor mode, he leveled you both with a sharp look. “Now, listen up. Ace, you’ve been stabbed. You’ve got a wound on your stomach. You need to rest, take it easy, and avoid anything straining.” He emphasized the last word, throwing a pointed look at both of you.

“Seriously?” Ace grumbled, reluctant to take it easy.

“Yes, seriously. I don’t want you reopening that wound, so no fun, you two,” Marco added with a smirk.

Ace looked ready to launch into another complaint, so you cut him off before he could get a word out.

“Oh, just listen to him for once, will you?”

Marco nodded, smiling wider. “Yes, listen to your lady. She knows what’s good for you.”

This time his words hit you hard. Your lady. The phrase echoed in your mind—no straining, no fun, your lady—the words hung teasingly between you all, and Marco’s pointed looks left little room for misunderstanding.

Ace’s usual confident smirk faltered for just a moment as he absorbed Marco’s words. A subtle blush adorned his freckled cheeks, and you couldn’t help but wonder what images were playing out behind his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” he muttered.

You clenched your jaw, desperate to hold onto whatever composure you had left. But Marco’s smug expression wasn’t making it any easier. You took a slow, steadying breath, willing yourself to stay calm even as your face flamed with heat.

It seemed your flustered state helped Ace pull himself together. He threw you a suggestive wink, feigning confidence, despite the stubborn blush still clinging to his face.

Unable to bear the weight of their teasing any longer, you groaned. “Oh god, I’m killing you both and switching crews.”

Marco laughed, not taking your half-joking words seriously. “Oh no, whatever will we do?”

“Hey, don’t kill me just yet. I’m injured, remember?”

Ace slowly pushed himself up from the deck, careful not to aggravate his injury, and without hesitation, he reached out and patted your head. “Lighten up, sweetheart. We’re only teasing.”

You swatted his hand away. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

Marco leaned back against the railing, arms crossed, a knowing smile curling at the corners of his mouth. He watched you both with the relaxed ease of someone who’s seen this dance before but still found it endlessly entertaining.

“Aw, come on, don’t be like that,” Ace murmured, catching your hand and brushing his thumb over your skin with a tenderness that caught you completely off guard.

You swallowed your retort, momentarily disarmed by the softness hidden beneath his usual teasing.

“Okay, lovebirds,” Marco said. “I have more important things to do than watch you two flirt. Though, I have to admit, it’s pretty entertaining.”

“Oh, shut up, Marco,” you grumbled, feeling suddenly very aware of the tight knot of emotions twisting in your chest.

Ace’s chuckle was soft but victorious. That sly smirk spread across his face like a challenge, and you noted the way his eyes gleamed with quiet pride, as if he’d won some invisible battle simply by making you this flustered.

“Hey, I’m just saying,” Marco continued, crossing his arms, “it’s nice you two finally stopped dancing around each other. It was getting frustrating to watch.” That familiar, cocky grin danced on his lips. “Now, enjoy each other, kiddos.”

He turned as if to leave, but paused mid-step, glancing back over his shoulder.

“But not too much,” he added, his voice dipping into mock sternness. “Remember Ace’s injury.”

Marco's words—annoying as they were—held a truth you could no longer deny. The tension between you and Ace had been building for so long, it was almost strange to feel it begin to unravel. To not hide beneath: we're just good friends anymore.

The casual intimacy of his presence—and that damn smirk—was making it impossible to keep up your facade. You tried to look away, focus on something else, anything else, but it didn’t help. A few crew members whistled in your direction again, and you could feel the heat rushing to your face all over again.

“Oh, don’t be so shy,” Ace chuckled, stepping closer with that easy charm of his. “They’re just having a bit of fun.” Then, with a mischievous gleam he added, “Besides, if you really wanted to keep things quiet, maybe kissing me like that in full view of the deck wasn’t your best strategy.”

“Oh, like you were complaining,” you shot back. The memory was still too vivid in your mind.

“Of course I wasn’t complaining. I enjoyed every second of it.” His hand reached out, fingers tracing your cheek with a softness that contradicted the boldness in his words. You caught the slightest shadow in his eyes—a nervous insecurity that hid just beneath the surface of his usual bravado.

“I bet you did,” you murmured mesmerized by this moment. You swallowed a lodge in your throat. “Ace—”

The teasing grew louder around you, voices calling out and whistles slicing through the air. It all pressed in on you, a buzzing irritation clawing at your patience.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, grow up, you all,” you snapped, glaring toward the crowd. Then, almost without thinking, you grabbed Ace’s hand with surprising firmness, your fingers curling around his. Pulling him away from the prying eyes and relentless comments, you steered him toward a quieter corner of the deck.

Once you were out of sight and earshot of the others, he grinned at you. “You get grumpy when you’re embarrassed, did you know that?”

“I’m not grumpy,” you protested. “They’re just annoying, that’s all.” The words less a defense and more a small comfort now that the spotlight had shifted away from you.

He chuckled, shaking his head as he looked down at your still intervening hands. When his eyes found yours again, the teasing spark had softened, replaced by something more. Something you always felt but denied.

“You know,” he began “when I came up with that whole heroic deed to get a kiss idea, I was just messing around. Didn’t think you’d actually go for it.”

“I didn’t think I’d really go through with it either,” you admitted, a small smile breaking through. The memory of that kiss—unexpected, fierce, and so damn real—played through your mind again, warming you from the inside out.

“Guess we both ended up surprised, huh?” His voice was fragile, almost hesitant, like he was testing the waters.

“Yeah, it seems that way.” Your fingers nervously played with his hand that you didn’t feel like letting go.

He swallowed, searching for the right words, but they caught in his throat. “I—uh… I’m… You know that…”

Before he could stumble any further, you interrupted. “Ace,” you said as firm as you could manage with all those emotions running through you. “I know. I’ve been by your side through everything, and now… I want to be even closer.”

“Closer, huh?” His voice held its usual playful edge, but you recognized the slight shake in it—and the way his eyes glistened, as if he was holding back tears.

“Oh, shut up. You know exactly what I mean.” You responded in your usual way too. That was just how the two of you were—bantering, teasing, joking—but underneath it all, you understood each other completely.

“You’re good,” you murmured. “We’re gonna be good.”

You raised your other hand and brushed your thumb lightly over his cheek, feeling the heat of his skin beneath your touch.

“Right yeah.”

You stood there in silence. His hand in yours, while your other hand gently traced the freckles on his face. His eyes held yours, deep and swirling with thoughts he hadn’t yet found the words for.

“I’m glad it happened,” he said at last.

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding like a drum in your chest. “Yeah,” you whispered “Me too.”

In that moment, with his touch so close and his eyes locked on yours, the world seemed to slow. The distant sounds of the crew faded into nothingness, leaving just the two of you suspended in a fragile, beautiful moment.

You could feel the connection between you, like an invisible thread that had woven itself between your souls. It wasn’t just his heroic deed earlier or even the kiss. It was everything that had come before it, the battles you’d fought, the trust you’d built, the way he had never hesitated to be by your side when it counted.

#onepiece #one piece fic #ace d portgas #ace x reader #ace one piece #ace portgas #fire fist ace #one piece x reader #portgas d ace fluff

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fandomfablesunleashed · 6 days ago

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Tangled lives: Chapter Thirteen

Law x reader (she/her)

Chapter thirteen of Tangled lives

Words (for this chapter): 2.9k

Notes: Thank you all for the engagement <3 Seriously, it's awesome to know you're into this story. It definitely inspires me to keep improving it.

And now… the plot thickens

🫶 @chillerkiller @deputy-azor, @henritherogue, @theprincesss5, @hopelesslover06 @forest-haven @milktearose @moonj-fool @miruto1 @wanoisland @cruziival72🫶

You were thinking about him. Again. You hated how Shachi’s words:“I know it’s hard, but you don’t know the whole story. His life was a shitshow. I think… I think there’s more to it” kept replaying in your mind, swirling with the memories of all the things Law had said, all the things he hadn’t.

You couldn’t help but wonder if there really was more to Law’s behavior than just being a complete and utter asshole. What could possibly excuse the way he’d left, as though your feelings were disposable, as though the space you’d built together was nothing more than a fleeting moment to him? What could be a good enough reason to abandon someone, to leave them shattered in pieces, struggling to pick themselves up again?

Maybe you were grasping at straws, trying to find an excuse, a thread of understanding to justify the way he’d looked at you, the way he’d held you, the way he made love to you. It all felt so real. So full of promise, so full of care.

A frustrated sigh slipped from your lips. You really should stop overthinking it. He left. He hurt you. And yet, despite everything, you were still giving him the benefit of the doubt that he didn’t deserve.

There was only one thing to do in this case. With trembling fingers, you reached for your phone. The familiar number was already memorized by your heart, and you tapped it without hesitation. It rang once before the line clicked, and the voice you needed most came through.

“Hi. Sorry to bother you. Again,” you said immediately.

“I told you to stop apologizing. I'm here for you. Always.”

That alone lifted your mood a bit. Just those few words, so simple yet so fierce, loosened something tight in your chest. You exhaled, letting the breath carry away some of the weight you’d been dragging around lately.

“Thanks Ikka.”

“I haven't done anything yet.”

“You did plenty.”

And it was true. The moment you’d called her—choking on tears, the story tumbling out in broken fragments—she had dropped everything. Within minutes, she was there, standing beside you with fire in her eyes and a storm of curses aimed solely at Law. You’d barely managed to stop her from tracking him down and unleashing her wrath on him.

She was the definition of ride or die. Your safety net. Your shield. Fury when yours had burned out.

And right now, she was exactly what you needed most.

“You okay there?”

You swallowed hard, blinking away the sting behind your eyes. “Been better… been worse too, I guess. So, you know, I’ll survive.”

“Of course you will!” she said, with that fierce confidence of hers. “Remember, no jerk deserves your tears.”

“Yeah, yeah. You told me that. Like a lot.”

“And I will sing it till my dying days.”

That finally coaxed a real chuckle out of you. She always knew how to disarm your sadness. She always did. From the very beginning of your friendship to this very day, knowing exactly when to speak and when to sit in silence beside you. She was a reminder that you were never as alone as you felt.

You pulled your knees closer to your chest, the phone warm against your cheek. “What are you up to now?”

There was a pause, just long enough to be noticeable. “I was just getting ready for a date.”

You hated that it stung. You were overjoyed that your best friend found the love of her life. And you adored her partner. She was kind, thoughtful, and patient. Everything you’d hope for Ikkaku and more.

They were great together. No, not great. Perfect.

Still, the ache snuck. You could only dream of finding someone who would do everything for you. Someone who would choose you, every day, over and over. Who’d place your happiness above their own. Who’d fight for you, protect you with their whole heart. Their whole being even.

You forced your voice to stay light. “Ooooh, a date? Fancy. Where are you two going?”

Ikka gave a soft laugh, one that buzzed with excitement. “Nothing too over-the-top. Just this little rooftop place she found.”

“Sounds amazing,” you said. And you meant it. Even if your heart was a little sore.

“You okay there?”

“Yeah, yeah. Fine,” you replied too quickly.

“Don’t lie to me. Do you want us to ditch the date and come over? We can drink wine, eat an unhealthy amount of chocolate, curse every man who’s ever existed, and blast that playlist you made for me after my last nasty breakup.”

She really was an astounding friend. Maybe the universe had failed you in love, but at least it hadn’t left you completely empty-handed.

You laughed through the tears. “That sounds great, but no. Have your fairytale night. I’ll be okay. I promise.”

“You better call me if you’re not.”

“I will.”

“I mean it.”

“I know.”

She hesitated for a moment, her voice gentler when she finally spoke. “You’re going to get your fairytale too. And if not exactly fairytale then at least some epic love story. Someone who would risk it all for you. I’m sure of it.”

You let out a quiet scoff. That sounded so far away, so out of reach, and you were about to say as much. To say that those stories weren’t written for people like you. That perhaps some people were just meant to watch them from the sidelines, never truly belonging to the happy endings.

But before the words could leave your mouth, a sharp knock echoed through the room.

You weren’t expecting anyone.

For a brief, irrational moment, your heart whispered that it might be Law—coming to collect his comics, or maybe, to apologize and beg for your forgiveness. That maybe he’d come not just to grab his precious issues, but to say the words you wished to hear: I’m sorry. I was wrong. Please, give me another chance. I love you.

You hated that your mind even went there. But it did. But deep down, you knew better. If he was here, it was for the comics. Not for you.

He really did care about Sora, more than he ever seemed to care about you. You used to think it was cute, the way he lit up talking about them, hands animated, eyes sparkling. But now? The thought only twisted your stomach painfully.

Another knock came, a little louder this time. You exhaled, rubbing your eyes. You weren’t ready for this. Not ready to face your former roommate, the guy who had once meant everything to you, and the man you still had far too many feelings for. Feelings he had never bothered to embrace.

“Someone at the door. I need to go,” you told Ikka, distracted by the sudden weight of anticipation pressing against your ribs. “Have fun tonight, okay? Love you.”

“Love you more,” she said, the smile in her voice a warm contrast to the knot tightening in your stomach.

You ended the call and rose swiftly from the couch, brushing invisible wrinkles from your clothes as if they mattered. As if he would notice.

But it wasn’t him.

A tall, blonde man stood in the doorway, his presence commanding the space with a striking confidence. There was something special about him beyond his height or the sharp, sculpted lines of his face. But what truly caught your eye was the coat. Long, tailored, and unabashedly pink. Definitely not a typical look. And you weren’t sure if you should be curious, impressed… or afraid.

You hesitated, uncertain if this was just another one of Law’s attempts to avoid confrontation. Maybe he’d sent someone else for his comics. Maybe Law was too much of a coward to face you himself.

“Umm, can I help you?” you asked cautiously, your tone guarded.

Did Law really send someone else to pick up his comic books? He seemed to go out of his way to avoid you. Sending a stranger to your apartment without even a heads-up, as though he couldn’t bear to confront you himself. Maybe he had asked Shachi, Penguin, or even Bepo to do it for him first, but you couldn’t help wondering if they were mad at him too. After all, they knew now how he’d treated you. What he did.

The thought of that… the idea that they might be upset with him, even a little, made you feel a little better. You didn’t know them that well—hell, you hadn’t spent nearly enough time with them to be close—but you could tell from their reactions that they were disturbed by Law’s behavior.

They cared about you, or at least, they cared enough to be bothered by what he had done to you. And damn it, you had started to like them. And that just made you angrier at Law all over again. Because if they could see it, if they could understand the mess he had made, then why couldn’t he?

The man smiled politely, but there was something unnerving about the way he looked you up and down, as though trying to measure you before speaking.

“Donquixote Doflamingo,” he introduced himself, his voice smooth. Too smooth. “Pleasure to meet you.”

You didn’t respond right away, just standing there, arms crossed. He was waiting for you to introduce yourself, but you weren’t going to offer up any information to a stranger.

“Is Law here?” Doflamingo asked, his tone casual, but there was an edge to it that made you pause. Now you didn’t like the situation even more. If he was asking that, it meant that Law didn’t send him here.

“No.” You didn’t owe him an explanation, not when the question seemed to cut through the fragile thread of your patience. You were even more furious at Law now, and he wasn’t even nearby.

He didn’t seem fazed. “Do you know when he’ll be back?”

You narrowed your eyes, the anger welling up inside you once more. “He doesn’t live here anymore,” you replied, each word a sharp reminder of what had been taken from you.

Doflamingo didn't flinch at your words. Instead, he simply raised an eyebrow, as if your response was exactly what he expected. “I see,” he said slowly, almost amused. “And I take it you’re not expecting him anytime soon?”

You clenched your jaw, fighting the urge to slam the door in his face. The nerve of this man, standing there as though he wasn’t asking about someone who had hurt you, someone who had shattered your very own being.

“I’m not expecting him at all.”

Doflamingo stepped forward, his posture casual but still imposing. “Such a shame,” he mused, glancing at you, almost as if he were studying you. “I was hoping to speak with him.” He paused for a beat, looking over his shoulder, as if considering his next words carefully. “But it seems I’ll have to deal with you instead.”

You frowned. “What do you want with him?”

He shrugged nonchalantly, his eyes flicking back to you with a sharper focus now. “Let’s just say I’m dealing with a few… loose ends.”

You didn’t believe that for a second. You had no idea who this man was, but something about him—the way he carried himself, the way he spoke—set your nerves on edge. You didn’t know whether he was on Law’s side or against him, but either way, you didn’t trust him. Not one bit.

“I’m not your go-between,” you said, narrowing your eyes at him. “If you’re looking for Law, you’ll have to find him yourself.”

Doflamingo gave a small, mocking chuckle, unfazed by your defiance. “Oh, I’m sure I will. It was truly a pleasure meeting you.” He gave a small bow, his eyes gleaming with something that made you feel uncomfortable, as though he knew more than he let on.

“Goodbye,” you stated firmly, pushing back against the feeling of unease that threatened to rise in your throat.

He gave you a final, inscrutable look, then turned away, walking down the hallway with the same casual grace he had entered with.

What the hell was that all about? Doflamingo’s words, his demeanor, everything about him left a bitter taste in your mouth, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on why. There was something far too deliberate in his actions.

Your thoughts circled back to Law, as they always seemed to. His absence in your life was an ache that refused to heal. And now, it felt like everything was spiraling further out of control.

You couldn’t shake the unease that prevailed. Doflamingo might have been all politeness and smooth talk, but something about him didn’t sit right with you. There was a cold edge beneath his words, and the way he had scrutinized you, made your skin crawl.

You let out a frustrated sigh, trying to shake the chill that had settled over you. Reaching for your phone, you felt a small flicker of hope that maybe Law would answer. You tapped his name in your contacts, but as soon as you pressed the call button, you knew. He didn’t answer. Of course, he didn’t.

But you couldn’t just let this go. Not when there were people like Doflamingo popping up at your door. You needed answers. You needed someone who could explain what the hell was going on.

So, with a huff of annoyance, you dialed Penguin’s number. The one he drunkenly punched in when you had come home that night, only to find Law and his friends inebriated. It seemed like ages ago now. Back when you weren't expecting the tension, the longing, and certainly not the emotional wreckage that would follow. It was that night that started the whole mess between you and your unattainable roommate.

As the call connected, you tried to steel yourself, not sure what you were hoping for, but desperate for something.

The phone rang. And rang.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, it picked up.

“Hello?” Penguin’s voice sounded muffled at first, like he was busy with something else, but there was a bit of panic when he recognized who was calling.

You didn’t waste time with pleasantries. “I need to ask you something. There was some creepy guy at my door. He just left. He was asking about Law, and I don’t know, I’ve got a really bad feeling about him.”

“What was his name?” Penguin asked, his tone shifting immediately. You could hear the concern creeping into his voice.

“Doflamingo something,” you answered.

“What’s going on?” You heard a distant voice in the background—Shachi’s, unmistakable.

“Doflamingo was at her place,” Penguin said sharply.

“Fuck, that’s not good,” Shachi mumbled, but you still caught it.

“I know that.” Penguin again.

Then you heard more distorted voices as they engaged in conversation, completely forgetting that you were still on the line. Their conversation was rushed and chaotic. You could make out the occasional curses, and there was a definite panic in their voices.

“Shit, guys, hellooo? Talk to me!” You screamed into your phone.

Penguin’s voice grew more cautious now, as if weighing his words. “Look, I can’t say much, but Doflamingo’s… complicated. He’s connected to Law’s past, to some things I’m not sure you’d want to know about.”

Your chest tightened at his words, and the sense of distress only grew. “What does that mean?!”

There was a sigh on the other end of the line. “Doflamingo’s involved in some shady shit, and if he’s poking around… well, it’s not good. That’s for sure. I’m sorry you got dragged into this.”

You felt the blood drain from your face as his words sank in. This wasn’t just some random visit—it was part of something far messier than you’d anticipated. The knot of dread in your stomach tightened even more. Instinctively, you clenched your phone tighter, the smooth plastic biting into your palm, your knuckles whitening.

You swallowed hard, forcing down the lump in your throat, telling yourself to stay calm, to think with clarity. But the truth was, you were anything but composed.

“So, what am I supposed to do?”

“Nothing!” Shachi’s voice rang out sharply, now crystal clear through the line. The sudden clarity jolted you. He must have taken the phone. “You told him Law is not living there anymore, right?”

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice quieter now, still shaky, but you managed to keep it together long enough to answer.

“Okay, good. We’ll talk to Law,” Shachi said, calmer, as to ease your nerves. “Don’t worry too much, but if you get any other weird visits… anything at all. Call us immediately, alright?”

You wanted to protest, wanted to demand more answers, but you didn’t get the chance. With a final, reassuring, “Take care,” the call abruptly ended.

You stood rooted to the spot, every muscle locked in place, your breath caught somewhere between panic and disbelief. Your mind spun in a chaotic whirl, thoughts tumbling over each other like a storm unleashed. Law’s world—the one you had so desperately tried to leave behind, the one you had painstakingly tried to cut out of your life—was pulling you back in, as though the invisible strings, long thought severed, were tightening around you, drawing you toward a man you’d been desperate to untangle from.

#onepiece #one piece fic #trafalgar law #trafalgar law fic #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #tangledlives

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