Hiiiiii! Hey I was just wondering if you are going to keep updating stoner law fic, I swear it’s soooooo good, hope you do
I’M ALIIIVE!! hi! yes, stoner!law will get updated, i’m so sorry for the wait!
school + finals ended for me a few days ago, and I have been in the process of moving out of the dorms for the summer, which is why updates are painfully late 😭
I’ll try finishing up the next chapter as soon as possible!
Tags/Warnings: slow burn, modern/college au, fluff, friends to lovers, mutual pining, swearing, smoking, cannabis usage, alcohol usage, no use of y/n, stoner!Law, roommate!nami, plug!ace
Summary: Trafalgar Law was quiet, unreadable, and annoyingly good at chemistry. The problem with quiet and unreadable things is that you rarely notice them until they've already taken up space in your life.
“WHAT?!” Nami shouted, making you flinch. It was astonishing how energetic she could be upon waking up after a night out. “You were making out with Law? Like, shady, quiet, premed guy Law?”
“Okay, okay, I never said making out,” You defended yourself quickly, “He’s just a guy from my lab. We sat outside at the wall for a little while.”
“A little while?” Nami’s eyes narrowed, “I lost you for two hours.”
“That doesn’t mean–”
“And against a wall for that long?" She waved an accusatory finger at you. “Oh you two were definitely-“
“Nami!”
“–Fucking.”
You choked. “We were talking.”
“That’s worse.” She blinked once before her grin fell into something strangely serious. “Wait… you actually like him or something?”
You went quiet. You couldn’t even give her–or yourself–the satisfaction of an immediate response, because you didn’t have a concrete answer.
“...No.” You responded more quietly than intended. Nami didn’t interrupt, so you continued.
“I mean, he’s just…” You hesitated, trying to find the most objective description of Law.
“He’s aloof. He rarely speaks of himself, but he still somehow has a stick up his ass. And he’s dry and sarcastic all the time.”
You exhaled through your nose, “And he acts like he doesn’t even want me there half the time, but he still talks to me anyway.”
“That’s all.”
Nami loosely folded her arms. “...Yeah.” She said finally.
“Yeah?”
“That doesn’t sound like ‘just a guy from lab.’”
Your mouth opened, then closed again. “I was just describing him, I don’t know what you’re on.”
“Sure.”
…
A week later, the lab didn’t feel any different. There was the same fluorescent hum, the same instructions from the TA, the same chemical fumes that made your nose sting. The same lab partner waiting when you arrived.
He still nitpicked your work station.
“I can’t even read this,” or, “You forgot to label this,” and the occasional, “Leave this beaker here.”
But now, he let you keep going, then quietly made adjustments after.
After getting his notebook signed off by the TA, he’d turn to you. “Heading out?”
That was all it took. He placed his bag on the bench and idly flipped through the pages of his notebook, eyes not moving at all.
The same easy walk to the apartments followed your labs, past the convenience store, up to the streetlight at the large intersection. You’d part there like clockwork, you turning right and him continuing straight forward.
As the weeks continued, it started to stretch. His pace matched yours now, and the intersection came a little later each time. One day, he didn’t turn at all. You noticed it first, after a few minutes of conversation.
“You’re going the wrong way,” you corrected.
Law glanced behind himself briefly.
“...Right.” He promptly turned around, lifting his hand in a quick goodbye, before starting back towards the direction of his place without explanation.
You were guilty of it too. Lost in a chat about weekend plans or course selection, you found yourself minutes ahead of the turn you needed to make more times than you’d like to admit. Every time, Law never corrected you–you always realized the misdirection yourself. He just kept listening, talking, and firing back at your jokes like there was nowhere either of you needed to be.
After a particularly exhausting lab period, the conversation kept going like it always did. Again, you didn’t notice the turn. Not because you missed it, it was as it vanished. The sidewalk seemed to continue longer than usual and the only thing you were able to focus on was the resonance in his voice.
“That convenience store food will kill you someday, you know that, right?” He gestured at the two packs of ramen and special edition RedBull clutched in your arms.
“Aw, you worried about me?” You beamed, only to receive an unamused stare in response. “That sounds like a future problem, anyways.”
“You’d never survive living alone.”
You scoffed, “I do live alone.”
“No. Nami’s the one keeping you alive and socialized.”
“Okay, well I’d like to think otherwise. I’m the one who had to carry her drunk ass home while she ranted to me about her lesbian situationship.”
“So… the bare minimum?”
“That’s–fuck, I guess…” You slumped your shoulders defeatedly. A few more steps carried you forward before either of you spoke again. The path was quieter than the main stretch campus. You frowned slightly, adjusting the grip of the food in your arms.
“...Huh.” Your gaze drifted up properly now, distraction-free. This wasn’t the way back. This wasn’t even close. Your head snapped to the side towards Law, who was fishing a lanyard out of his pocket.
“Law?” He didn’t answer immediately. You whipped your head around to see how far you walked, realizing that you somehow skipped the turn, two blocks, and a large section of campus without noticing, finally making it to a large complex. Scanning a small black fob, the door made a quiet beep, and Law opened it, finally glancing back at you.
“Oh… yeah.” He paused at the door, back pressing it open. “This is my building.”
You let out a sharp breath, “Oh god–okay, I’m gonna go. I didn’t… Realize how far we walked.”
“It’s late,” Law said, “You’re walking back alone.”
You paused mid-step. "Yeah? I’ve done worse."
He did not look satisfied. A beat passed before you continued, “...It’s like, 10 minutes. I’ll be fine…”
Law shifted his weight, as if he had already moved onto a different issue. “We never exchanged numbers.”
You blinked. “Wait, yeah. That’s kind of insane.”
“I guess it just never came up.”
You pulled out your phone, “Okay, then, give me your number.”
He did so without hesitation, finally saying “Text me when you get back,” like it wasn’t a question. You sent him a quick empty message so he could save your contact information as well.
“Mhm, you too,” You joked, before taking a few paces backwards while waving at him. “I’ll see you…eventually.”
The corner of his mouth lifted “See you.”
You turned around quickly before he could catch the grin threatening to break across your face. He didn’t leave right away, you were able to tell. It made you stupidly aware of your stride and posture while fighting the urge to turn around. After a few moments of walking, you finally heard the building’s door fall shut behind you. Your phone buzzed almost immediately.
[I got home]
You smiled at the screen before you could stop yourself, thumbs hovering over the keyboard to type a sarcastic reply.
[wait deadass?]
A typing indicator showed up, then disappeared as quickly as it appeared. Your pace slowed without you realizing.
[put the phone down and focus on walking]
You snorted quietly to yourself.
[you started it]
[and who texted first?]
…
You began messaging him for help on assignments more often than you probably needed to. At first, the conversations were strictly academic. His phone would light up at unreasonable hours of the night with a blurry photo of half-finished calculations in your lab notebook. Law was always awake anyway. A few minutes later, he’d reply with an itemized list of miscalculations, detailed explanations, and witty remarks that had no bite. You began looking forward to those replies.
[I know that you’re pulling sig figs out of your ass but how do you mess up this badly]
[you're lucky I enjoy being right]
He sent a photo of his calculations anyway, notebook spread across a desk littered with old quizzes and evaporated condensation rings presumably from his energy drinks. Partially concealed by the sleeve of his hoodie, his hand rested at the corner of the image. You zoomed in on it without realizing.
[thanks LawGPT]
A minute would go by.
[...]
[No.]
Text conversations gradually shifted from coursework to trivial matters. A complaint here, a friendly debate there. Small updates that were less updates and more ways of indirectly saying ‘I’m still here.’ Most often, this was an exchange of photos of your respective “struggle meals.” His was often a spread of used disposable pens, captioned “lunch.” Yours was a flimsy sandwich on the counter with nothing of substance between it. He’d react to the photo with a thumbs down emoji.
Nami noticed immediately.
“Screenager. You’re doing that thing again.”
“What thing?”
“The smile-at-your-boyfriend-on-the-phone thing.”
You rolled your eyes. “Not my boyfriend.”
“Mhm. For sure.” She leaned over your shoulder, “So, do you two actually hang out, or are you still stuck as classmates?”
You shrugged, “I mean, we walk back from campus together sometimes.”
Nami’s nose scrunched in response and a grin bloomed on her face. “Aww,” she cooed, “You two are like shy little high schoolers. That’s adorable…and kind of sad.” Her smile fell.
“We text too.” You held up your cellphone.
“That barely counts. Have you even been to his place yet?”
“Unfortunately not.”
She raised an eyebrow like she’d just solved a puzzle.
“Unfortunately, you say?”
“Dammit. Okay, that’s not what I–”
“So that’s the problem.”
“What problem?” Your words barely slipped past her train of thought.
She seemed entirely too pleased with herself, “You like him enough that the weird classmate bubble isn’t good enough anymore. Someone’s getting greedy.”
You glared at her, “Okay- that’s rich coming from you. And that’s not what I said.”
A look of realization shot across her face, “Oh, god, you’re right. That’s not what you said.”
“It’s what you meant to say.”
You hated when she did that.
…
Later that evening, Nami sat in the living room and didn’t even look up from her phone when she said it.
“We’re just going over for a bit. It’s nothing huge, just you, me, Luffy, and a couple other friends. We’ll just be chilling with a few drinks.”
Like it was the most unremarkable plan ever.
You had no exams upcoming, and it was a weekend. There wasn’t an excuse not to attend. “I’ll think about it.”
Almost on cue, your phone buzzed as you slouched on the sofa next to her.
[you going tonight?]
You stared at the notification for a second too long.
[idk yet, are you?]
[nami said it’s low pressure]
[I have some stuff to do there, so yeah]
[and nami says a lot of things]
You exhaled a small laugh through your nose at that, and before you could think properly, you were already typing.
[fair enough. I think I'll pull up anyways]
You didn’t even fully commit to the idea before sending the message. In the back of your mind, it wasn’t really about the plan anymore.
…
Faint but steady bass bled out into the otherwise quiet block, making you pity the neighbors. The light streaming from the windows was a little too bright and colorful. Then, you noticed the silhouettes moving behind them, far too many to match the “just a couple friends” description you were given.
Nami really did say a lot of things.
“You’re quiet,” she looked over her shoulder. She waved to Sabo at the door, who gave you a friendly nod, while guiding (dragging) you inside.
“A couple other friends?”
“Well, in my defense, Luffy’s got a lot of them.” She smiled sheepishly at your flat expression. “This barely scratches the surface.”
She wasn’t even wrong. You sighed, drifting along the couch and into the kitchen, taking whatever drink Nami put in your hands before continuing past her to the edge of the room as she went to find her friends. The noise behind you blurred as you moved.
You pushed open the back door with practiced ease–more reflex than conscious thought–to find air, space, and quiet.
And if you were being honest with yourself, maybe your lab partner.
The back door clicked softly behind you, cutting off the worst of the party noise. For a second, you just stood there, letting your eyes adjust. Law was already there–of course he was.
Leaning against the far side of the house, another figure stood across from him. Neither of them registered if you were there at first.
“--yeah, I was hoping to try one with you at the last party,” the other voice said, tone light and amused, “but you dipped right after I gave them to you upstairs. I looked away for like, two seconds!”
“I left. I wasn’t planning on staying there, anyways.” Law’s gaze lifted, finally catching you beneath the porch light. His shoulders tensed, but his eyes softened, not looking away.
The other person followed Law’s stare. His posture was loose, and he had a dark shirt left unbuttoned. Freckles scattered across his cheeks and arms, warm beneath the porch light, and his hair was wavy and mussed.
He cracked a crooked smile before glancing between you and Law.
“You two know each other?”
“Unfortunately,” Law answered before you could speak.
You scoffed. “That’s interesting. I was gonna say the same thing.”
The man tilted his head slightly. “Huh.”
“What?” you asked.
“Nothing,” he said lightly, “I just expected someone who had a history with Law to look more miserable.”
“Ace.” Law’s head snapped towards him.
“What?” He lifted both hands innocently. “I’m just making observations.” His attention shifted back to you, warm and immediate. “I’m Ace, by the way. Luffy’s brother.”
“No, you’re being annoying,” Law shot back.
You stifled a laugh at Law’s irritation before introducing yourself to the other man, and his expression brightened like he genuinely enjoyed the sound of your name.
“See what I have to deal with?” Ace pointed a thumb at him.
“Why are you acting like I forced you to come outside?”
“I’m not, you’re just being mean.” He leaned into you, “He likes me. He’s mean to people he likes.”
Law crossed his arms, observing Ace’s sudden proximity to you.
Ace gestured at him again. “And he’s not even denying it.”
“That proves nothing.”
“It proves enough.”
The exchange flowed so naturally that you stared for a second longer than intended. “You two know each other?” You echoed Ace's earlier question.
Law sighed regretfully. Ace didn’t give him the satisfaction of replying, quickly chiming in, “Oh, yeah. We go way back.”
“I guess that’s one way to put it.” Law rubbed the back of his neck. “He’s been my…plug…for the past few semesters.”
Ace gasped. “Plug? That’s all I am to you?” He broke the offended facade, quickly smiling and, throwing an arm up. “And here I thought we had something special.”
“...Don’t.” Law shook his head, too exhausted to continue the back-and-forth.
You let out a quiet laugh. “So he just buys from you?”
“When he’s feeling social.”
“So, once in a blue moon?” You gave Law a teasing look. He straightened his mouth unamusedly.
Ace nodded in response, stretching lazily. “Pretty much. Anyway, as much as I enjoy hanging out with my best customer, I’m also here to drop some goods off for Luffy. He wanted to make a borg tonight.”
“I’m not your best customer.”
Ace pointed at him, “And you don’t get to decide that.”
Law sighed. Ace’s attention flicked back to you again, immediately softening. “You just got here?”
“Yeah,” you replied, “Nami–my roommate–said it was gonna be a small thing.”
He nodded in acknowledgement, as if he knew her antics all too well. “Rookie mistake, taking her word when it came to things like this.”
“Mhm, It’s more my fault, if anything.” Your eyes drifted to the door, “Well, I don’t wanna keep you here for too long, you’ve got stuff to do, right?”
“Yup.” He looked at your drink. “Dear god, who gave you that?”
“Nami.”
“Cruel woman.”
“Thank you!” you rotated the chemically sweet drink in your hands. “I said it tasted weird and she told me I was being dramatic.”
Law shrugged, “Completely optional, by the way.”
You turned toward him in betrayal. “Sorry?”
“You made the same face after every sip.”
“Because every sip somehow tasted worse.”
“Again. Completely optional.”
You rolled your eyes and hit the toe of your shoe to his with a smile. “Shut that mouth.”
He smirked and looked away to the side. Ace watched, not saying anything for the first time since you two began your interaction.
“Ah.” He finally said softly. Law gave him a look without saying anything.
“I’m gonna go help Luffy with that borg, now. I’ll bring you guys some, unless him and Zoro try hogging it all.” Ace nudged your shoulder lightly as he passed, “Surely it’ll be better than that cheap stuff.”
Law’s eyes flicked briefly to where Ace’s arm made contact with yours, then away.
“It was nice meeting you,” You waved as he slipped into the house. Warmth, light, and noise spilled across the patio before he disappeared back inside. Quiet settled in again almost immediately.
Beside you, Law watched the closed door for a moment before exhaling through his nose and relaxing his body. “You don’t need to drink whatever he brings back, by the way.”
“You sound like you’re worried.”
“And you sound like someone who is bad at decisions.”
“You’re so kind to me.” You stood next to him against the wall, not minding the distance–or lack thereof.
“I try.” He smiled slightly.
You let the silence sit for a moment after his words, the noise from inside the house swelling and fading. You didn’t lean into him in an obvious way, just close enough that there wasn’t any space left where you stood and where he did. The space around the two of you was vast, but not fully utilized.
You glanced at him sideways, then down at your drink like it had suddenly become more interesting than it actually was. “Are you gonna get high tonight?”
He slowly blinked once.
“I already took some.”
“Wait, seriously?”
Law gave a small shrug against the wall. “Mhm.”
“That explains a lot, actually.”
“Explains what?”
“You’ve been staring into space for like, 10 seconds at a time. Especially when Ace was here.”
He glanced briefly toward the patio door again before looking back at you. “I was just listening.”
“You looked more distracted than usual, I dunno.”
“You talk a lot.”
“And you don’t seem to hate it.”
His gaze didn’t wander this time as it settled on you. He didn’t respond for a while. A shout erupted from somewhere inside the house, followed immediately by loud, overlapping laughter. Neither of you looked toward it.
Law reached out suddenly, plucking the drink from your hand before you could react.
“This tastes radioactive,” he said after putting his lips to the rim and taking the smallest sip imaginable.
“You stole my drink just to hate on it?”
“You kept drinking it.” He placed the carton back in your hands, furrowing his brows.
“That doesn’t explain why you took it.”
“Scientific curiosity.”
“Bullshit.”
He shrugged. You snorted quietly as he handed it back. His fingers brushed yours, careless enough that it almost felt deliberate. Another roar of laughter reverberated inside again.
Looking to your side, you asked, “Do you think they made the borg yet?”
“Luffy?” Law sighed softly, “I bet he drank half already.”
“That’s–no, no, you’re right.”
“He’s got a stomach of steel, I tell you. He’s one of those people who eats instant noodles dry and drinks the sauce packet like dessert.”
You winced slightly.
“...Don’t tell me.”
“Yeah,” you admitted. “I do that sometimes too.”
His eyes narrowed. “And why am I not even surprised?”
“Okay, look, sometimes I get too lazy to cook after lab.”
“We get out of the same lab section,” he replied flatly. “And I still eat things according to package instructions.”
“Yeah, well.” You folded your arms loosely. “You also get blasted beforehand.”
He paused, before scoffing quietly, “...Tch.”
A beat passed before you spoke again, “...How’d you even get into it? Weed, I mean.”
Law’s eyes flicked to you briefly. “Everyone has their thing. It helps me shut things off.”
You hummed softly at that, letting it sit instead of pushing it further. Law breathed out and scanned the yard, like he was finally remembering the rest of the world was still there. A loud crash ripped through the house, followed immediately by someone yelling at full volume.
“Who the fuck put Dr. Pepper and sour candy in the borg?!”
“I dunno, I just dumped whatever Ace put in the fridge!”
“WHY WOULD YOU TRUST HIS RECIPE?!”
Casting a concerned look at the door, then back at Law, you opened your mouth to speak. “You staying?”
He looked at you for a second longer than necessary. “Are you?”
“...Yeah. I don’t think it’s safe to go in there, anyways.”
“Then I’m staying.”
Chapter 3 Coming Soon!
...
A/N:
fun fact, the initial reason i started writing this fic was because i remembered someone saying that ace looks like a drug dealer and law looks like his loyal customer.
i had a hard time writing this chapter due to time constraints (more midterms) and writers block, hope it ended up alright though! i'll probably make more revisions when my exams are over.
also yes my friends and i have made a borg with dr pepper and sour candy. its been marinating on my top shelf since december bc nobody liked it HAHAHAHAH.
One Piece Headcanons: Types of Nudes They'd Send You [Mature]
One Piece Characters x Gn!Reader
Featuring: Zoro, Law, Ace, Sanji, Sabo, Nami, Robin
wordcount: 559
Tags/Warnings: descriptions of nudes. that's all.
Zoro:
An unpolished mirror selfie. It's taken after intensive training, in a dimly lit room. The light catches the sheen of sweat that coats his tanned skin, adding definition to his flexed muscles. His face is flushed from exertion, and his hair is slightly damp. But, the focus is centered around the pulsing weight of his cock. He wraps a large, calloused hand around his shaft making its veins stand out.
Law:
Realistically, he would rarely send any. When he does, it's a subtle shot in low and moody lighting. He would be shirtless, showing off his tattoos and toned chest. The focus isn't on his face, but on the silhouette of his body. He puts a tattooed hand on his thigh, drawing attention to the heavy, unmistakable print pressing against his pants. The cloth is pulled taut, molding to his swollen length. Pretty classy.
Ace:
Ace is absolutely the type to send videos. He'd prop himself up on the edge of his bed, camera in one hand while the other stays busy pleasuring himself. He lets out heavy, ragged breaths that mix with the rhythmic wet sound of ihs hand working. It allows you to see the way his abdomen flexes or how his muscles tense up when he reaches his limit, whispering your name as he comes undone.
Sanji:
He's a man of high standards, and that applies to the photos he'd send too. Sanji would send you pictures after stepping out of the shower. The mirror is almost entirely obscured by an opaque layer of condensation, save for a single patch where a hand has wiped it clear. A white towel is draped around his shoulders, barely concealing the sharpness of his collarbones and chest. The foggy mirror leaves some detail to your imagination (unfortunately), almost as an invitation to go see the rest for yourself.
Sabo:
Sabo is a tease. The photo is casual, sitting back in his armchair at his desk, posture relaxed and legs spread comfortably. The only thing that isn't casual about it is the way his torso and thighs are completely bare. A book is held face-down in his lap, obstructing what you'd wanna see most while drawing your eyes to everything else. You could trace the veins of his length peeking out at the base, along with his trimmed happy trail as it disappears beneath the book's pages.
Nami:
Much like Sabo, Nami would also be a tease about what she sends you. Sprawled across her bedsheets, lying face-down with intention, the camera angle is level to her face, and her hair is messy and falls to one side. Her body is pressed into the soft mattress, forcing her chest to spill and flatten against the sheets. She'd give a knowing smile, acknowledging that your mind needs to fill in the blanks itself.
Robin:
Robin is poised and deliberate in her actions. She also wouldn't send nudes often, but when she does, it's usually an arch pic. She'd angle the camera above her body, capturing the elegant curve of her spine and the soft skin of her bare back. The light catches the smoothness of her scapula and the dip of her waist. She would pull a towel or a sheet to carefully conceal her chest while leaving the rest of her silhouette exposed.
...
A/N:
hi guys why did you like this so much 😭😭 i appreciate it but i threw this together to escape writers block HAHAHA
i dont think sanji would take any photos like that in the kitchen. cooking is almost sacred to him, so i feel like sending a nude in his workspace would be somewhat vulgar in his eyes. he loves both his partner and his craft, but in distinctly different ways.
Hi! I like your writing so far, keep it up! Would you mind adding a read more to your long posts? That way i can like the post first thing before i read it, just in case, so i don't lose it :)
will do!! ty for letting me know, im kinda new to posting so im always looking for ways to clean up + improve my layouts :)
Tags/Warnings: slow burn, modern/college au, fluff, friends to lovers, mutual pining, swearing, smoking, cannabis usage, alcohol usage, stoner!Law, no use of y/n, roommate!nami, implied namivivi, reader is a stem major
Summary: Trafalgar Law was quiet, unreadable, and annoyingly good at chemistry. The problem with quiet and unreadable things is that you rarely notice them until they've already taken up space in your life.
Your vision drifted in and out of focus as you stared absently at the ceiling above. Cool night air diffused through the screened bedroom window, a stark contrast to warm numbness ebbing and flowing through your body. Beside you, Law lifted the joint up to his lips, smoke curling lazily into the dim room and filling the air with its earthy scent. Foo Fighters played quietly from a speaker on one of his shelves, the bass humming low enough to make the wood vibrate lightly. The sweetness of the gummy you took earlier still lingered on your tongue.
Law’s chest fell as he exhaled and tipped his head back against the mattress, dark hair ruffled from your fingers combing through it earlier. You turned your head toward him. Even half-lidded and relaxed, he was still unfairly good-looking. Sharp, amber eyes hidden beneath haphazardly cut bangs, tanned skin turning a warm shade by the bedside lamp, lips rosy and parted from smoking.
Your first memory of him seemed jarring against the version beside you now. You initially only knew him as the guy who looked constantly irritated. Every Wednesday and Friday, he’d slip into the stool beside yours and nudge your notebook away from his side of the bench, smelling faintly of fabric softener.
You remembered thinking he seemed out of place in the lab. Not because he wasn’t smart–he never made a show of receiving his scores, but you always got a glimpse of his perfect marks–but because of how indifferent he seemed to everything. Most students fell into two extremes. They either obsessed over every assignment or would complain about being there at all, but Law did neither.
He never spoke about the subject with any passion, never volunteered answers unless directly asked, but he always worked with certainty, exceeding everyone else. In the first few weeks, you and Law barely spoke beyond the bare minimum required to get work done. Even then, that wasn’t much, as he would do most of it himself.
“Aluminum alloy capsule.” He’d outstretch a gloved hand without even looking at you.
You’d pass the capsule. “Right, you’re welcome.” You paused. “Are you always this friendly in the morning?”
That finally got him to glance over. “What?”
You shook your head. “Nothing. For someone who always acts so tired of people, you make powering through this lab look pretty easy.”
“Is that a compliment?”
“I’m not sure.”
And that was about as deep as your first conversations got. Short exchanges between measurements, dry banter beneath the fume hood. You learned after some time that he wasn’t exactly unfriendly; he was just difficult to read. He would answer when spoken to, but rarely made any opening.
Eventually, you noticed he’d gotten used to your presence. He’d slide his much neater data tables to you to copy from, or drop a pair of gloves your size on the table before you asked for them.
“Not that one.” He caught your wrist lightly before you could pour the chemical.
You froze. “Oh, shit.”
“Yeah. We’re not trying to make the precipitate yet.” He paused for a moment, “Let me do this. I stopped trusting you around chemicals a few weeks ago.”
“Ouch.”
“You somehow turned our analyte red the last time we were doing titrations. Can you blame me?” He didn’t let go of your wrist immediately. He noticed where your gaze settled, fingers loosening a second later as he stepped back towards the bench.
“Just... read the labels properly before you grab stuff.”
“Okay, mom.” You scoffed.
“I regret helping you.” There was a light twitch at the corner of his mouth.
Your exchanges began to trail outside of the lab. You noticed that he’d begun to pack his belongings more slowly while you talked, without really noticing you were hanging behind yourself. Eventually, one of you would end up holding the door for the other without discussing it, the banter continuing as you stepped into the hallway. Outside, he walked a step ahead of you without actually leaving you behind. The class would stop being the point of the conversation, topics shifting without either of you acknowledging it.
“You’re slower today,” you remarked after catching up to him.
He glanced at you and replied, “Because you’re talking more.”
As the two of you continued the walk, he turned into the convenience store–the only place on campus open at that hour–and you followed unconsciously, picking out your respective snacks separately and ending up at the register at the same time. Back outside, the air felt cooler on your skin as the two of you walked to a large T-intersection on campus. He always adjusted his bag strap, gave a soft wave, then started walking forward. You went to your apartment in the other direction. That was the unspoken routine you developed with him.
Until one night, when he stepped out as you were finishing your thought, and broke the exchange cleanly for the first time.
“I have somewhere to be, actually.”
You paused, then nodded. “Then, I’ll catch you next week”
He gave you the same soft wave before walking in the other direction, not looking back when he left.
…
Nami had already been half-dressed when you got back to your apartment, talking about Luffy’s place like you were absolutely going.
Dressed in the standard PPE–sneakers, your college sweatshirt, a pair of wrinkled jeans–you studied the lineup of Grey Goose, yuzu flavored soju, and pink lemonade on the counter before quirking an eyebrow.
“Alright, slow down. What’s going on at Luffy’s place? Why are you dressed like you’re ready to ruin someone’s life? And why’s all our alcohol posted up on the counter?”
She grinned, “We're going to Luffy’s party tonight, I heard Vivi was gonna be there…” she gestured to her outfit, “And I refuse to pregame alone.”
You narrowed your eyes, “And who is we?”
“You and me, honey. Go change, I’ll pour you a shot.” She opened the cabinet and picked up a glass without waiting for you to respond.
You placed a hand on your head exasperatedly and began to walk back to your room. “Look, Nami, I love you, but I just got back from a lab and I’m dead tired. I’ll go with you next time.”
“Okay, but when else are we gonna be able to do this? The semester’s almost over, and I haven’t gone out with you once!”
You froze and turned around, staring at her blankly. “It’s Luffy. Doesn’t he have a party like, every other night? And when he doesn’t, he’s planning the next one.”
She shrugged, glancing to the side almost defeatedly. “Okay, granted…” She perked up again, “But I’m talking about you. You’re always busy, and I think you could use the break.” She smiled sweetly, fingers inching towards the bottle of vodka.
She wasn’t wrong. You haven’t had much time outside of class to spend time with friends, much less go to parties, since the semester started.
“You’re on thin ice.” You finally sighed.
“Is that a yes?”
“...One hour. Go pour the shot.”
…
You initially had some back-and-forth with your roommate about the amount she gave you. She called it a “Nami Shot,” and you called it “way too much.” You forgave her as soon as you stepped into the biting air, the buzz in your system serving as a perfect distraction.
After walking a few blocks, you finally reached the house: 10 Sunny Lane. Some people stood idly outside, and a man with blond wavy hair leaned at the door. You opened your wallet, ready to pay the entry fee, before Nami took your hand away.
“No need. I’ll handle it.” She turned back to you and gave a reassuring grin. “I’ve known Luffy for a while, he told me I can enter for free.”
Approaching the door, she gave the man a friendly wave. “Hey, stranger.”
He looked up and smiled easily. “Look who finally decided to show up. I was starting to think you got lost.”
Nami placed a hand against her chest, feigning hurt. “Oh please, I’m not Zoro.”
Laughing softly, he shook his head before flicking his eyes to you. “Is this your plus one?”
“Mhm.” She gestured toward you. You introduced yourself, and he gave you a warm smile in return.
He stepped aside to let you both in, “Go ahead. Luffy’s probably somewhere inside causing property damage.”
“It’s good to know that nothing’s changed,” she chuckled, waving him goodbye and taking your hand by the index and middle fingers to guide you in. “...And that was Luffy’s big brother, Sabo.”
You glanced back towards the door. Unlike Luffy’s loud recklessness that you were somewhat familiar with, Sabo seemed composed, laid-back, and rather charming. It was hard to picture them being raised in the same household.
Several people were sprawled out across the couch, engaging in sluggish chatter. Plastic cups stacked in a nearby bin and spilled out the sides. 2000’s EDM blared through a speaker in a nearby corner, and you walked through the house with Nami as she searched for familiar faces, finally making it to the kitchen, which was somehow louder than the living room.
Every inch of counter space was occupied by open chip bags, unattended bottles, and dispensers filled with suspicious beverages. People squeezed shoulder-to-shoulder around the island, shouting over one another, and Nami moved through it all like it was second nature, tugging the hem of your sleeve occasionally so you wouldn’t get lost.
“God, usually they’d be playing better music by now,” she shouted over the bass, opening a cooler to find some drinks. “And who the hell actually enjoys Cutwater?” She pushed a lime margarita can to the side.
Placing a cherry limeade Beatbox in your hand, she finally stood. “Take this. I wouldn’t put too much faith into the jungle–”
She stopped mid sentence.
You followed her gaze across the kitchen, finding a girl with long blue hair standing near the counter with a hand curled around her drink, laughing with a small group of people.
“Oh my god,” Nami whispered before straightening her hair, “It’s Vivi.”
Before you could respond, Vivi glanced over and lit up when she spotted your roommate.
“Nami!” She said a quick goodbye to her friends and made her way over towards the two of you.
“Hi,” Nami said coolly, as if she wasn’t short circuiting moments prior, “Didn’t know you were coming.”
“Luffy pestered me until I finally caved.” Vivi’s eyes shifted to you. “Oh, hey. You must be…”
“This is my roommate,” Nami said before quickly turning back to Vivi, who smiled and offered you her hand.
“I’ve heard a bit about you, actually.”
You shot Nami a look. “Oh?”
She groaned, “Okay, don’t make it weird.”
“I’m not making it weird,” Vivi chuckled, “She and Luffy talk about you a lot.”
“I do not! And Luffy talks about everyone the same.” Nami dragged her hands down her face exhaustedly, making you stifle a laugh.
“Anyway,” she continued, “I’m Vivi.”
You gave yourself a proper introduction and she repeated your name with an easy smile before glancing back towards Nami.
“You look cute, by the way.”
You watched panic flick across Nami’s eyes before she made a quick recovery, running a hand through her hair, “Really?”
“Mhm.”
You looked between the two of them for a moment, noticing how Vivi seemed equally flustered behind the confident smile she tried to maintain. Around you, the kitchen grew warmer as more people crowded in. Someone yelled for aux, another person tripped on someone’s spilled drink.
Leaning in a little closer to Nami to be heard over the music, Vivi asked, “Do you wanna go somewhere quieter? I can barely hear you here.”
For a second, You would’ve thought Nami was about to combust. Her eyes darted to you. You knew that look. It was the same one she gave you when she was short on cash (she never really was), and when she tried to convince you to come to this party in the first place. She grabbed your wrist.
“Can you handle yourself for a little bit?”
You snorted. “I’ll survive.”
“I owe you so bad.”
“You already do. This is negligible.” You gestured to Vivi, who was already a few paces away, “Go for it.”
“Okay, okay. I’ll catch you soon.” She flashed you a grin before straightening up and turning back around. And she was gone, slipping through the crowd towards Vivi, who tucked herself against Nami’s side.
The kitchen noise quickly turned from lively to overwhelming after your roommate left. The bass felt louder without anything to shout over it, voices grew sharper, the bodies bumping into your shoulder a little too chaotic. The air felt too warm and too sticky. The alcohol you barely started on turned unpleasantly in your stomach. You glanced towards the hallway, then the back door, making the decision to step out before the noise becomes too much.
Outside, the air was quieter in a way that was almost disorienting after the bustling inside. The party was still audible, but it was muffled pleasantly like an afterthought. You barely got a second to adjust before you noticed a strangely familiar silhouette leaning against the side of the house.
You slowed without meaning to. You told yourself it could be anyone–It should be anyone. Someone smoking, someone waiting for a friend, someone like you who was trying to escape the noise.
And maybe it was. The shape shifted under the patio’s lamp, the shadows of moths flitting across the dim light it casted. The figure didn’t look up immediately.
“I wasn’t sure how long you’d last inside.” Law finally said, as if he’d been thinking about it for some time.
“I didn’t take you for the type to attend parties.”
“I’m not attending it,” He replied, “I’m just tolerating it.”
You raised an eyebrow, “And for what?”
He went silent for a while. “Nothing important.”
“...Right.”
Bringing a tattooed hand to his lips, he took a steady inhale, before puffing out a plume of pale vapor. His fingers grazed over the cart’s button. Not anticipating going back inside, you made yourself comfortable crouched on the ground next to him, drink still sitting relatively untouched in your hand.
“You smoke?”
“What gave it away?” He ran his eyes over you.
“Nothing in particular.”
Your gaze lingered on the smoke between you for a moment longer than necessary. Law noticed, as always.
“You look miserable,” he said.
You glanced down at the sweating carton in your hand before taking a swig. “This drink sucks.”
“Then why are you still carrying it?”
“Because I can’t enjoy this party sober.” Your thumb toyed with the bottlecap.
Law glanced toward the house. “Did you get dragged here by someone?”
You nodded. “My roommate. She wanted to go out together for the first time in…forever. But right now, she’s busy trying to win over this girl she likes.”
Shrugging,you added, “And it’s probably working.”
“The blue haired one?”
You blinked. “You saw us?”
“It’s kind of hard not to.” His response came quickly.
It felt strange seeing him here. Not because he looked out of place, if anything, the dim light under the awning and tired posture suited him better than the fluorescent laboratory buzz. You unconsciously took a gulp of the drink, its bitter and artificial flavor painting your tastebuds. A displeased sound left your mouth without realizing.
“You don’t have to finish it, you know.” His voice came quieter this time. The pen adjusted between his fingers again, small and repetitive like he just needed something to do with his hands more than anything else. It slowed halfway through, like he’d forgotten what he was doing.
Before you could answer, the back door slammed open, laughter spilling out. You both looked towards it at the same time. When it closed again, the quiet felt much sharper.
You finally huffed, “Is that you being nice or you being tired of hearing me complain?”
“Maybe it’s both.” That got you to glance at him, eyes unexpectedly meeting his.
You took another sip anyway. It was warm from how long it spent sitting in your hands, but you didn’t adjust your grip. Neither of you moved for a while after that. Law stayed against the wall, the pen resting loosely between his fingers, its light blinking occasionally.
He stayed where he was for a second longer, then let himself sink down into a crouch, as if standing had stopped being necessary.
“You always sit like that?” He broke the silence.
“Like what?”
“Like you’re gonna fall asleep.” He paused, “You’re like this in chem lab, too.”
You shifted your weight slightly. “I’m just saving energy.”
“And I’m the one who always seems tired?” A quiet exhale left him, one that was barely a laugh.
You rolled your eyes, “You’re worse in the lab”
His sleeve brushed against yours. It didn’t move away. “How am I worse?”
“No offense. You just look like you’d rather be anywhere else.”
“That’s because I usually would be.”
You nodded, “fair enough.”
A moment passed.
“But you’re still there.” You turned your head towards him.
“As are you.”
That landed heavier than either of you seemed willing to admit. Law didn’t look back at you right away. When he finally did, it wasn’t immediate eye contact. It was almost as if his stare drifted to yours on accident and he was unsure whether to stay or look away.
That should’ve ended it, and the exchange should’ve dissolved back into the muffled noise inside the house. But the conversation didn’t settle. Law’s pen stopped clicking absentmindedly entirely at some point before he shoved it into his pocket. You weren’t sure when the drink in your hand started to taste flat, nor when it grew lighter and easier to hold.
At some point, the angle of your body shifted without you noticing. The ground didn’t feel cold as you fully sat down against the wall, resting your free hand in your lap. Law was still close, but his presence became something you weren’t consciously aware of. You didn’t notice when you stopped looking at the time, your promise to stay for one hour long forgotten.
Law leaned back against the wall beside you. Instead of creating space, though, his shoulder rested loosely against yours. You could feel his warmth through the fabric of your shirt. Crickets chirped beneath the low pulse of music that permeated the walls. His head tipped back against the siding, eyes half lidded as his warm breath puffed and disappeared into the cool night air.
Despite the faint crease between his brows when he was thinking and the way exhaustion was woven into his features, he didn’t look like he wanted to leave.
“Are you still just tolerating this party?”
His expression was unreadable. “It got less unbearable.”
You let out a quiet laugh. “Is that so?”
Before he could respond, your phone buzzed in your pocket. You pulled it out, the bright screen casting a cool glow on your features.
Debt Collector
You sighed before answering. “Hey, what’s up?”
“You disappeared!” Nami said immediately, words slurred beneath the noise in the background. “Where you at?”
“I’m outside right now.” You furrowed your brows and tried to force back a smile, “How drunk are you?”
“I’m not THAT drunk,” she defended, followed by muffled laughter that almost definitely belonged to Vivi.
“Right…” You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Okay, make sure you’ve got your stuff and stay where you are, I’ll find you.”
“Wait, I’m not ready to go home yet!” Her voice stretched in the silence of the backyard.
You closed your eyes briefly, “Yeah, I’ll see you soon.” Your thumb made contact with the red hang up button.
Law let out a quiet breath beside you that sounded suspiciously close to a laugh. Glancing towards him, you spoke, “I have to–”
“Yeah,” he interrupted, “I figured.”
Pushing yourself to your feet, your legs were stiff and you stumbled forward slightly. Law’s arms twitched, hands freezing in place as you found your footing again. Maybe that Beatbox did more to you than you anticipated. The drink was abandoned beside the wall. Law stood a second after you did, hands slipping into the pockets of his hoodie.
You looked at him. “You gonna stay?”
“Probably not for long.”
You nodded in response. Neither of you reached for the door immediately. Up close, you could still feel traces of his warmth lingering. Law glanced toward the house at the sound of another round of shouting coming from inside before looking back at you.
Fnally placing a hand on the handle, you tightened your grip. “See you in lab?”
“Yeah,” Law replied quietly. “See you there.”
Chapter 2
...
A/N:
The non-manga panel art in the banner is mine btw!! my other blog is @phu0nglan :)
SOO i do not know much at all about what other college majors do 😭 i'm a stem major, so reader ended up doing stem coursework with Law because it’s what i could write about best without it feeling unnatural. thankfully the whole medical/premed route works with his character. I'm very very sorry if this wasn’t what some of you were expecting!!
...
I'm gonna be drinking some weed juice in a few days so i can continue the next chapter too LMAOAO we'll see how that goes..
I was not planning to write this much, i was expecting to do just a quick one-shot but i got too many ideas that i realized were gonna need A Lot of words to lay out.
stoner!law is currently bordering on ~4k words, and i am anticipating writing a LOT more. should i divide it into multiple chaps (i will release what's currently done while writing the rest), or keep it as one giant post (wait a bit longer, get it all at once)?
Preferred Release Layout for Stoner!Law?
Multiple chapters
One giant fic (smut chap served separately)
Voting ended onMay 20
also, would you guys like to be added to a taglist? pls lmk what characters/types of works youd like to be tagged in :]
