Instinct Part 2 ( Trafalgar Law x Reader )

Honey

He leaned back from your pushing and sat up beside you, patting your leg. "Relax, we just have to change out your bandages. Doctor's orders."

Just as you were registering the situation, your alarm clock buzzed off, making you jolt and scramble to shut it up. When you did, you rolled back over to face him.

"...Which doctor? You or Chopper?" You narrowed your eyes at him as you sat up, unamused, yet a little aroused, by his prank.

"Hmm. I'll let you decide." With a wink, he reached out to the table with the frame on it and opened the drawer, pulling out some medicinal tape and antibiotic cream.

You sighed in defeat and silently watched Law move around beneath the low light of the rising sun gleaming through the window, giving his shoulders a golden tint.

Only he could do something like that and get away with it.

"If you want to do it yourself," he began as he pulled out a pair of scissors and snipped the tape, "I won't stop y--"

"No. I want you to do it." You interrupted with a hushed voice, looking away shyly.

"Oh? Is that because--"

"B-Because I have to get ready for school soon and I would probably mess up."

He simply chuckled and, with a finger, ironically told you to turn around. Nodding, you obeyed and rolled up your shirt enough to cover what you were embarrassed about, but high enough to where he could have access to the bandages.

"Please be careful," you whispered.

And he was throughout the process. His nimble fingers worked deftly to redo the bandages around your abdomen. As he began to close off the last layer, he leaned in close to your ear as it seemed he was going to whisper something soothing and calming, so you pressed back against him just before he spoke.

"Make me bacon."

You paused with one of the most unamused expressions your face could show.

"... Bacon?"

He nodded and slipped out from behind you after he finished the re-bandaging.

You groaned, pulling your shirt back down, and flopped back on the mattress, though you regretted doing so as your spine still hurt, but not as bad.

"Yes, your highness," you teased as you stared up at him upside down, watching as he slipped on a black, long-sleeved cotton shirt.

After changing, he leaned down, putting a hand on the bed on either side of your face as he replaced your view of the ceiling with his brooding features.

"'Highness?' I think I like that." His smirk grew.

You reached up and cupped his face.

"It was a joke, don't get used to it." You grinned and brought his face down as your lips desperately wanted to meet his once more before the day really began.

When you parted, you could tell that he was silently begging you to stay. However, you knew that if you didn't go to class then you wouldn't qualify for the financial aid you were bound to receive and you'd be stuck working at the bookstore for the rest of eternity.

Rolling up, you carefully stretched out and ambled to the kitchen, your bare feet brushing the carpet and eventually tapping against the hardwood floor of the small kitchen area, your pink pajama shorts clinging to your thighs.

"How about some waffles to go with the bacon?" You asked as you approached the fridge, running your fingers through your hair to try and tame it while you waited for a response.

"Waffles? Is that some sort of bread?" He asked in return as you felt him approach behind you.

He doesn't know what waffles are.

You had to hold in your giggles, and you were glad he couldn't see the growing smile pushing your cheeks up. "No, not really. They are like...breakfast cakes that you can put just about anything on."

You glanced back to meet his confused (not to mention adorable) expression, arched brows and slightly parted lips, as he tried to figure out just what you were talking about. Wanting him to try one was now your mission, thus you had to sugarcoat your words to deem the batter worthy of his pallet.

"They've got this net-like surface that catches what you glaze it with, whether that be butter, honey, syrup, whatever, to ensure you get a flavorful bite each ti--"

"Honey?"

You blinked at the topping he had extracted from your little list. Though, the way he said it resembled a term of endearment used by a married couple.

Focus.

"Er, yeah. That's what I usually put on mine." You glanced down at your toes, wiggling them. "It's not a popular choice but..."

"Hm," he rubbed the back of his neck as he debated, "Alright."

You perked up and beamed a brilliant smile, proud of yourself for convincing this stoic man that waffles were well worth it. Quietly, as to not disturb the peace with your inner bubbly child excited to culture your wolf, you turned and opened the freezer door with a soft squeak, prying out the box of breakfast treats. At the counter, you set them down and rummaged through the cabinet below for your pan to cook bacon.

"You wanted honey on your waffles, correct?"

"Yes, honey."

... Maybe working at the bookstore for the rest of eternity wouldn't be so bad.