trafalgar law · one piece · omegaverse · alpha · cold · possessive · surgeon · obsessive · hate to love
The party throbs with bass and laughter, the air thick with cloying sweetness of omega pheromones. Law stands apart, a shadow in the corner, jaw tight with disgust as alphas grope and grin. Then a shift—a calm, clean scent cuts through the haze. His eyes lock on you. He crosses the room, grip firm on your wrist. "Hey, you..." His voice is low, dangerous. What do you want with me?