[shotosjupiter]

WELCOME…

⋆˚꩜｡ jupiter. they/she. twentee one + south asian writer.

⋆˚꩜｡ ABOUT ME — DNI ࣪— SIDE-BLOG — MASTERLISTS

JUPITER IS CURRENTLY… dying in finals

THINKING OF… biting fire lord zuko’s biceps omnom

LISTENING TO… can’t stop — TXT

READING… katabasis by r.f kuang

© all rights reserved. all content published on this blog belongs to shotosjupiter. please refrain from copying, stealing, or profiting off my works. i don’t allow my works to be used or adapted in any way without my permission.

[monkeydlesbian]

minors dni

trafalgar law who prefers fingering over eating you out because he can hold you, snug against his side with one arm around your waist or shoulders, the other arm nestled between your thighs, two long, tattooed digits knuckle deep inside of your wet cunt.

trafalgar law who examines your face the entire time with such an intensity that you’re forced to look away, watching every single twitch and change of expression so he knows when you’re close.

trafalgar law who lets you pant into his mouth, pressing the most feather-light and clumsy kisses against your lips because he knows you don’t have the energy to properly kiss him while his fingers crook inside of you, pressing against that spongy spot repeatedly.

trafalgar law who uses his free hand to palm your breasts, run over your soft tummy, touches you anywhere and everywhere he can reach to get you closer to the edge.

trafalgar law who tells you to rub your clit once he sees you getting close, feels you clenching around his fingers more rapidly, muttering a low and gentle “touch yourself” against the heated skin of your cheek and pressing a kiss to it as if to reward you for obeying.

trafalgar law who tugs you closer as you finally come around his fingers, pressing his lips to yours in a messy and nasty kiss that’s all tongue in an attempt to swallow your pretty moans.

t-trafalgar law <3

[linolinoing]

guys pls don't die from the heat i love playing tumblr with you

[shotosjupiter]

TRAFALGAR LAW (トラファルガー・ロ ) ─── law taking care of you when you’re sick.

law can just sense something is wrong. no one has told him anything to indicate this - but he just knows. he can sense it in the same way he can sense shachi has eaten all of his leftover thai food he had saved for later.

he knows something is wrong. he just needs to find out what it is now. sighing, he glances down at his laptop and the heap of papers scattered all over his desk, displaying a variety of medical jargon. medical school was going to drain every bit of his soul.

tapping his inked fingers against the wooden table, he fishes for his phone out of his pocket, wondering why you haven’t texted him yet. usually, he’ll let you know that he’s about to hole up to study and in response you’ll send a variety texts to him about your day, ranging from the sad video you just saw on your phone to what food you were craving at the moment.

but this time - empty. no messages for you, matter of fact, the only notification sitting in his phone was the reminder for him to take his antidepressants. how peculiar, he thinks. law was always used to your ceaseless talk, it was something he enjoyed despite his own nature to keep quiet. he liked being in your presence and your chattering was a confirmation of it. so, it was strange that you had become radio silent today.

biting his lip, he clicks the call button, hoping that he could hear your voice at last but all he received was the repetitive drone of the dial tone and your pretty voicemail, “hello! i’m busy at the moment but you can leave me a message and i’ll get back to you soon.”

anxiety kicks into his chest and he hurriedly shuts off his laptop and tugs on a jacket before rushing over to your apartment. he had expected, upon entering with his own key, that maybe you were just busy cooking or with homework or maybe you had decided to do a deep clean and you had gotten sucked into all the lost things you had found in the crevices of your apartment. but no, he had entered your apartment and was met with silence. the lights were dim and the room cold with no indication that you were there.

then, he hears soft sniffles from your room and he pads over in quick strides to your door, heart lurching in his chest. there you were, cocooned in a heapful of blankets and a plethora of used tissues surrounding you like ornaments on a christmas tree. you squint against the slight light coming from the door, “law…?” you rasped out.

just like that, relief surged in his chest before the worry came right back. he tsked at you as he came close, kneeling at your bedside. “you’re sick,” he pressed the back of his hand on your forehead to check your fever, “why didn’t you tell me? i would’ve taken care of you, stupid.”

you close your eyes against the feel of his skin on yours. “you were studying, i didn’t want to bother you, doctor.” you tease, smiling despite how terrible you feel.

he tsks again before getting up, turning towards the door. you grab his hand just as quickly, wanting him to be near you once more, “stay, please. where are you going?”

he glances back at you, worry creasing the corners of his eyes. pressing a chaste kiss to the back of your hand, he tucks you into bed properly before saying, “i’ll be back, i’ve got to take care of you, don’t i?” he presses another kiss to your cheek before rushing out the door.

your eyes close shut at his retreating figure, finally being lulled back to sleep. as you rest, there is clattering in the kitchen as law puts in his best attempt to make you soup, muttering to himself as he goes. “okay and then carrots… no, fuck, i forgot the salt, god damn it.”

it is after an indistinguishable amount of time and you are awaken with drool on your face and hair plastered to your cheek, when law shows up again. this time he is sat on your bed, a tray laid on his lap with a steaming bowl of soup. he strokes your hair silently as you stretch your arms awake.

“how are you feeling, baby?” he asks, thumb stroking your cheek.

you lean into his touch, his warmth, something so comforting. “still feel sick, but i think i just need to sleep it off.”

he sighs and presses a kiss to your forehead before helping you sit up. “well at least eat the soup i made you, and then you need to take the medicine i got you, okay?”

you stick your tongue out at him but oblige, “whatever you say, doctor law.”

he rolls his eyes at you but nonetheless feeds you the soup spoonful by spoonful. “yummy?”

you nod, sleep coming back to you once more as the warm soup fills you. once finished, you take the bowl and place it gently on the side table and wrap your arms around law’s neck, pulling him in. “i missed you, baby.”

he sighs and nuzzles into the crook of your shoulder. his tattooed arms wind around your waist, pulling you closer. he kisses your shoulder and collarbone, “i missed you more, sweetheart. missed hearing your pretty voice talk to me.”

laying the both of you back down on the bed, you cuddle into his arms, fiddling with the tendrils of his hair. “you’re gonna get sick, you know.”

he pulls you impossibly closer, no amount of proximity enough. “don’t care. i wanna be with you, even when you’re all germy. missed you too much.”

just like that, the two of you lay, skin against skin. later, when law ended up getting sick a week after, you were more than happy to be the one to make soup for him and cuddle him till he was better. anything for your doting doctor.

[shotosjupiter]

TRAFALGAR LAW (トラファルガー・ロ ) ─── law taking care of you when you’re sick.

law can just sense something is wrong. no one has told him anything to indicate this - but he just knows. he can sense it in the same way he can sense shachi has eaten all of his leftover thai food he had saved for later.

he knows something is wrong. he just needs to find out what it is now. sighing, he glances down at his laptop and the heap of papers scattered all over his desk, displaying a variety of medical jargon. medical school was going to drain every bit of his soul.

tapping his inked fingers against the wooden table, he fishes for his phone out of his pocket, wondering why you haven’t texted him yet. usually, he’ll let you know that he’s about to hole up to study and in response you’ll send a variety texts to him about your day, ranging from the sad video you just saw on your phone to what food you were craving at the moment.

but this time - empty. no messages for you, matter of fact, the only notification sitting in his phone was the reminder for him to take his antidepressants. how peculiar, he thinks. law was always used to your ceaseless talk, it was something he enjoyed despite his own nature to keep quiet. he liked being in your presence and your chattering was a confirmation of it. so, it was strange that you had become radio silent today.

biting his lip, he clicks the call button, hoping that he could hear your voice at last but all he received was the repetitive drone of the dial tone and your pretty voicemail, “hello! i’m busy at the moment but you can leave me a message and i’ll get back to you soon.”

anxiety kicks into his chest and he hurriedly shuts off his laptop and tugs on a jacket before rushing over to your apartment. he had expected, upon entering with his own key, that maybe you were just busy cooking or with homework or maybe you had decided to do a deep clean and you had gotten sucked into all the lost things you had found in the crevices of your apartment. but no, he had entered your apartment and was met with silence. the lights were dim and the room cold with no indication that you were there.

then, he hears soft sniffles from your room and he pads over in quick strides to your door, heart lurching in his chest. there you were, cocooned in a heapful of blankets and a plethora of used tissues surrounding you like ornaments on a christmas tree. you squint against the slight light coming from the door, “law…?” you rasped out.

just like that, relief surged in his chest before the worry came right back. he tsked at you as he came close, kneeling at your bedside. “you’re sick,” he pressed the back of his hand on your forehead to check your fever, “why didn’t you tell me? i would’ve taken care of you, stupid.”

you close your eyes against the feel of his skin on yours. “you were studying, i didn’t want to bother you, doctor.” you tease, smiling despite how terrible you feel.

he tsks again before getting up, turning towards the door. you grab his hand just as quickly, wanting him to be near you once more, “stay, please. where are you going?”

he glances back at you, worry creasing the corners of his eyes. pressing a chaste kiss to the back of your hand, he tucks you into bed properly before saying, “i’ll be back, i’ve got to take care of you, don’t i?” he presses another kiss to your cheek before rushing out the door.

your eyes close shut at his retreating figure, finally being lulled back to sleep. as you rest, there is clattering in the kitchen as law puts in his best attempt to make you soup, muttering to himself as he goes. “okay and then carrots… no, fuck, i forgot the salt, god damn it.”

it is after an indistinguishable amount of time and you are awaken with drool on your face and hair plastered to your cheek, when law shows up again. this time he is sat on your bed, a tray laid on his lap with a steaming bowl of soup. he strokes your hair silently as you stretch your arms awake.

“how are you feeling, baby?” he asks, thumb stroking your cheek.

you lean into his touch, his warmth, something so comforting. “still feel sick, but i think i just need to sleep it off.”

he sighs and presses a kiss to your forehead before helping you sit up. “well at least eat the soup i made you, and then you need to take the medicine i got you, okay?”

you stick your tongue out at him but oblige, “whatever you say, doctor law.”

he rolls his eyes at you but nonetheless feeds you the soup spoonful by spoonful. “yummy?”

you nod, sleep coming back to you once more as the warm soup fills you. once finished, you take the bowl and place it gently on the side table and wrap your arms around law’s neck, pulling him in. “i missed you, baby.”

he sighs and nuzzles into the crook of your shoulder. his tattooed arms wind around your waist, pulling you closer. he kisses your shoulder and collarbone, “i missed you more, sweetheart. missed hearing your pretty voice talk to me.”

laying the both of you back down on the bed, you cuddle into his arms, fiddling with the tendrils of his hair. “you’re gonna get sick, you know.”

he pulls you impossibly closer, no amount of proximity enough. “don’t care. i wanna be with you, even when you’re all germy. missed you too much.”

just like that, the two of you lay, skin against skin. later, when law ended up getting sick a week after, you were more than happy to be the one to make soup for him and cuddle him till he was better. anything for your doting doctor.

[shotosjupiter]

you’re so cutieeeee rie, thank you love! i hope you’re taking care of yourself and that this week is easy on you! muah!

[oxygenisachoice]

Nami my love

[redpool]

The D in everyone's name stands for dumbass.

[shotosjupiter]

TRAFALGAR LAW (トラファルガー・ロ ) ─── law taking care of you when you’re sick.

law can just sense something is wrong. no one has told him anything to indicate this - but he just knows. he can sense it in the same way he can sense shachi has eaten all of his leftover thai food he had saved for later.

he knows something is wrong. he just needs to find out what it is now. sighing, he glances down at his laptop and the heap of papers scattered all over his desk, displaying a variety of medical jargon. medical school was going to drain every bit of his soul.

tapping his inked fingers against the wooden table, he fishes for his phone out of his pocket, wondering why you haven’t texted him yet. usually, he’ll let you know that he’s about to hole up to study and in response you’ll send a variety texts to him about your day, ranging from the sad video you just saw on your phone to what food you were craving at the moment.

but this time - empty. no messages for you, matter of fact, the only notification sitting in his phone was the reminder for him to take his antidepressants. how peculiar, he thinks. law was always used to your ceaseless talk, it was something he enjoyed despite his own nature to keep quiet. he liked being in your presence and your chattering was a confirmation of it. so, it was strange that you had become radio silent today.

biting his lip, he clicks the call button, hoping that he could hear your voice at last but all he received was the repetitive drone of the dial tone and your pretty voicemail, “hello! i’m busy at the moment but you can leave me a message and i’ll get back to you soon.”

anxiety kicks into his chest and he hurriedly shuts off his laptop and tugs on a jacket before rushing over to your apartment. he had expected, upon entering with his own key, that maybe you were just busy cooking or with homework or maybe you had decided to do a deep clean and you had gotten sucked into all the lost things you had found in the crevices of your apartment. but no, he had entered your apartment and was met with silence. the lights were dim and the room cold with no indication that you were there.

then, he hears soft sniffles from your room and he pads over in quick strides to your door, heart lurching in his chest. there you were, cocooned in a heapful of blankets and a plethora of used tissues surrounding you like ornaments on a christmas tree. you squint against the slight light coming from the door, “law…?” you rasped out.

just like that, relief surged in his chest before the worry came right back. he tsked at you as he came close, kneeling at your bedside. “you’re sick,” he pressed the back of his hand on your forehead to check your fever, “why didn’t you tell me? i would’ve taken care of you, stupid.”

you close your eyes against the feel of his skin on yours. “you were studying, i didn’t want to bother you, doctor.” you tease, smiling despite how terrible you feel.

he tsks again before getting up, turning towards the door. you grab his hand just as quickly, wanting him to be near you once more, “stay, please. where are you going?”

he glances back at you, worry creasing the corners of his eyes. pressing a chaste kiss to the back of your hand, he tucks you into bed properly before saying, “i’ll be back, i’ve got to take care of you, don’t i?” he presses another kiss to your cheek before rushing out the door.

your eyes close shut at his retreating figure, finally being lulled back to sleep. as you rest, there is clattering in the kitchen as law puts in his best attempt to make you soup, muttering to himself as he goes. “okay and then carrots… no, fuck, i forgot the salt, god damn it.”

it is after an indistinguishable amount of time and you are awaken with drool on your face and hair plastered to your cheek, when law shows up again. this time he is sat on your bed, a tray laid on his lap with a steaming bowl of soup. he strokes your hair silently as you stretch your arms awake.

“how are you feeling, baby?” he asks, thumb stroking your cheek.

you lean into his touch, his warmth, something so comforting. “still feel sick, but i think i just need to sleep it off.”

he sighs and presses a kiss to your forehead before helping you sit up. “well at least eat the soup i made you, and then you need to take the medicine i got you, okay?”

you stick your tongue out at him but oblige, “whatever you say, doctor law.”

he rolls his eyes at you but nonetheless feeds you the soup spoonful by spoonful. “yummy?”

you nod, sleep coming back to you once more as the warm soup fills you. once finished, you take the bowl and place it gently on the side table and wrap your arms around law’s neck, pulling him in. “i missed you, baby.”

he sighs and nuzzles into the crook of your shoulder. his tattooed arms wind around your waist, pulling you closer. he kisses your shoulder and collarbone, “i missed you more, sweetheart. missed hearing your pretty voice talk to me.”

laying the both of you back down on the bed, you cuddle into his arms, fiddling with the tendrils of his hair. “you’re gonna get sick, you know.”

he pulls you impossibly closer, no amount of proximity enough. “don’t care. i wanna be with you, even when you’re all germy. missed you too much.”

just like that, the two of you lay, skin against skin. later, when law ended up getting sick a week after, you were more than happy to be the one to make soup for him and cuddle him till he was better. anything for your doting doctor.

[shotosjupiter]

TRAFALGAR LAW (トラファルガー・ロ ) ─── law taking care of you when you’re sick.

law can just sense something is wrong. no one has told him anything to indicate this - but he just knows. he can sense it in the same way he can sense shachi has eaten all of his leftover thai food he had saved for later.

he knows something is wrong. he just needs to find out what it is now. sighing, he glances down at his laptop and the heap of papers scattered all over his desk, displaying a variety of medical jargon. medical school was going to drain every bit of his soul.

tapping his inked fingers against the wooden table, he fishes for his phone out of his pocket, wondering why you haven’t texted him yet. usually, he’ll let you know that he’s about to hole up to study and in response you’ll send a variety texts to him about your day, ranging from the sad video you just saw on your phone to what food you were craving at the moment.

but this time - empty. no messages for you, matter of fact, the only notification sitting in his phone was the reminder for him to take his antidepressants. how peculiar, he thinks. law was always used to your ceaseless talk, it was something he enjoyed despite his own nature to keep quiet. he liked being in your presence and your chattering was a confirmation of it. so, it was strange that you had become radio silent today.

biting his lip, he clicks the call button, hoping that he could hear your voice at last but all he received was the repetitive drone of the dial tone and your pretty voicemail, “hello! i’m busy at the moment but you can leave me a message and i’ll get back to you soon.”

anxiety kicks into his chest and he hurriedly shuts off his laptop and tugs on a jacket before rushing over to your apartment. he had expected, upon entering with his own key, that maybe you were just busy cooking or with homework or maybe you had decided to do a deep clean and you had gotten sucked into all the lost things you had found in the crevices of your apartment. but no, he had entered your apartment and was met with silence. the lights were dim and the room cold with no indication that you were there.

then, he hears soft sniffles from your room and he pads over in quick strides to your door, heart lurching in his chest. there you were, cocooned in a heapful of blankets and a plethora of used tissues surrounding you like ornaments on a christmas tree. you squint against the slight light coming from the door, “law…?” you rasped out.

just like that, relief surged in his chest before the worry came right back. he tsked at you as he came close, kneeling at your bedside. “you’re sick,” he pressed the back of his hand on your forehead to check your fever, “why didn’t you tell me? i would’ve taken care of you, stupid.”

you close your eyes against the feel of his skin on yours. “you were studying, i didn’t want to bother you, doctor.” you tease, smiling despite how terrible you feel.

he tsks again before getting up, turning towards the door. you grab his hand just as quickly, wanting him to be near you once more, “stay, please. where are you going?”

he glances back at you, worry creasing the corners of his eyes. pressing a chaste kiss to the back of your hand, he tucks you into bed properly before saying, “i’ll be back, i’ve got to take care of you, don’t i?” he presses another kiss to your cheek before rushing out the door.

your eyes close shut at his retreating figure, finally being lulled back to sleep. as you rest, there is clattering in the kitchen as law puts in his best attempt to make you soup, muttering to himself as he goes. “okay and then carrots… no, fuck, i forgot the salt, god damn it.”

it is after an indistinguishable amount of time and you are awaken with drool on your face and hair plastered to your cheek, when law shows up again. this time he is sat on your bed, a tray laid on his lap with a steaming bowl of soup. he strokes your hair silently as you stretch your arms awake.

“how are you feeling, baby?” he asks, thumb stroking your cheek.

you lean into his touch, his warmth, something so comforting. “still feel sick, but i think i just need to sleep it off.”

he sighs and presses a kiss to your forehead before helping you sit up. “well at least eat the soup i made you, and then you need to take the medicine i got you, okay?”

you stick your tongue out at him but oblige, “whatever you say, doctor law.”

he rolls his eyes at you but nonetheless feeds you the soup spoonful by spoonful. “yummy?”

you nod, sleep coming back to you once more as the warm soup fills you. once finished, you take the bowl and place it gently on the side table and wrap your arms around law’s neck, pulling him in. “i missed you, baby.”

he sighs and nuzzles into the crook of your shoulder. his tattooed arms wind around your waist, pulling you closer. he kisses your shoulder and collarbone, “i missed you more, sweetheart. missed hearing your pretty voice talk to me.”

laying the both of you back down on the bed, you cuddle into his arms, fiddling with the tendrils of his hair. “you’re gonna get sick, you know.”

he pulls you impossibly closer, no amount of proximity enough. “don’t care. i wanna be with you, even when you’re all germy. missed you too much.”

just like that, the two of you lay, skin against skin. later, when law ended up getting sick a week after, you were more than happy to be the one to make soup for him and cuddle him till he was better. anything for your doting doctor.

[mydearlybeloathed]

── 𝐀 𝐅𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: law makes the mistake of rescuing a strange woman from kidnappers. now, his crew is one person too many. it doesn't help that she won't tell him why she was kidnapped.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: law x mermaid!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 12k

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: mermaid!reader, law maaaay be ooc at times? no sure, reader likes her men unhinged

𝐚/𝐧: hello, lynn here :) it's been a min, college is taking me out

You met him by chance, as most meetings begin. Really, it should’ve ended like that too. A chance encounter between a sailor and a mermaid—but this wasn’t any sailor, and it wasn’t any mermaid.

It happened as his submarine docked for supplies, his crew fanning out through the alleys and markets of a bustling city each with their assigned grocery list. Trafalgar Law himself walked purposefully through the streets, moving further from the water as he weaved in and out of the crowd.

He knew where to go. He and Bepo had marked this island specifically for one item in particular. A good supply of antiseptic was vital to any pirate crew constantly getting maimed and skewered, and as a doctor, it was just common sense to keep it around. Running out wasn’t exactly an end-all, but Law would rather have too much than risk his crew’s health.

The store should be on the next street, right on the corner if his directions were right. Law thought he could see the sign for the drugstore swinging in the midday wind just up ahead, but something shiny caught his eye. His eyes snapped to the right automatically, just slow enough that he didn’t catch it, so he kept on walking without a care in the world.

You, however, were not so fortunate. The ropes binding your wrists burned from how you’d been fighting against them. Your captors just tightened the ropes every time you made progress, making sure the blindfold was still covering your eyes, the cloth tied around your mouth still keeping you quiet. As if it mattered if you were bound, those sick bastards kept tossing water on you every time your scales tried to sink into your skin and reveal two human legs.

And to think all you’d wanted was to try an apple. You’d only parted from your guard for a moment, and boom. Kidnapped. Your father was right. Men were dicks.

The gag choked your words, but not the feral growls you released from the pit of your chest, and despite the blindfold you could feel the way the wagon they carted you in rattled across the cobblestone ground. If anyone looked close enough they might’ve seen the end of your shiny scales peeking out from underneath the sackcloth, just like the doctor nearly had, his eyes catching the pearly gleam before he tripped on a loose cobblestone and the cart rolled out of sight.

The fear was starting to close in.

A kick to your side shut you up momentarily. A sharp, ugly voice hissed down at you, “Pipe down, fishy.”

If anything your snarl deepened. You waited for another blow, but all you received was a humorous scoff, like he thought you were funny. Anger coiled tightly round your heart and crawled its way into your head. If only you could get free… they would learn why mermaids grew to have fangs.

The cart came to a stop, the chatter of the market softer, further away now. Your heart pounded in your chest as your captors shuffled around, removing the sackcloth in a swoop. Your skin crawled as their hands closed in on you, picking you up like a sack of potatoes, tossing you over a boney shoulder that dug into your side.

You managed to force the gag over your lips and slide it over your chin, yet right as you prepared to scream, your brother’s voice came to you. As fascinated as you are, humans are fascinated by you dangerously more. You had thought him foolish, that he was intimidated. Now you saw he was right. There must be good humans out there, there were too many odds to say they didn’t exist… but you couldn’t risk that. Not now.

So you sank your teeth into the man’s shoulder as deep as they could go, as hard as you could bite. He nearly threw you to the ground, shouting a curse you didn’t understand, but then his grip tightened as something hard hit the back of your head.

“Shit,” the voice snarled. “The money better be worth it.”

“It will,” said another. “Mer-mies ‘re rare. Folks pay a pretty penny for ‘em.”

The way they talked, the way they handled you like a commodity. It sickened you. 

“You’re animals,” you hissed, soft yet sharp enough to be caught. The two men closest burst into an insulting amount of laughter. A hand patted your back. They didn’t dignify you with a response. 

The sound of a door opening. Voices you didn’t care to decipher from one another. The door shutting, locking. Every sound blended together now, your brain exhausted, your body close to giving up. Perhaps your family would be free of the worry you caused them now, worry you now knew was not in vain. 

You winced as your scales retreated into your skin, the transformation protecting your tail from drying out. The painful separation into two human legs went unhindered. Maybe your captors didn’t care to keep you lame anymore—maybe they could tell you’d given up.

The room was silent save for the deep mouth-breathing of the maybe four men who had brought you there. Another presence made himself known with a slow breath in and a heavy exhale, the scent of smoke soon curling up your nostrils. Footsteps drew closer until a coarse hand gripped your chin, tilting your head left and right, pulling down your lip to glimpse your fangs. You jerked to bite him, but all he did was whip away and laugh.

“Tempestuous,” he mused softly. “Like the sea. Never thought I’d see one in person. You normally stick to the depths.”

It took you too long to realize he’d spoken to you, your eyes widening behind the blindfold. You seized the chance to converse after so many hours of neglect, recalling something a sailor once said to his superior in a fury. “Fuck you.”

Chuckles erupted all around the room, your face burning in embarrassment despite the fire in your gut.

“Get ‘er some clothes,” the man, assumedly the leader, snapped. “We shouldn’t leave a lady in undress.”

The blindfold slid down your face when a shirt was pulled over your head, your untied hands shoved through the sleeves, a pair of trousers then tightened round your waist. You blinked fast, the light casting a dark film over your sight as your eyes adjusted. The room was long but thin, probably squeezed into a row of shops. The floor was dusted with sand and dirt, the tables littered with crates and boxes of assorted goods. 

Pretty crystals, shiny goblets, jars of scales you’d rather not think about too deeply. All of this and more took up most of the room, but peculiarly, one table housed rows of vials containing various liquids. Syringes sat crystal-clean beside them, swabs and bandages too. Your line of sight was blocked suddenly by a man more lanky than the rest, his proportions less balanced than most humans you’d seen. His eyes seemed too small for his face.

His face twisted into a sneer. “Shut up!” 

Oops. Had you said that out loud? He scoffed and shoved you down onto a crate near the back of the room where they could watch you carefully. “Just sit there an’ look pretty, eh?”

You rolled your eyes as far as they could go, looking anywhere but his growing smirk. Running your mouth would only get you so far. You wouldn’t last long surrounded by these traders, your fate uncertain. A thought tugged at your brain, luring you closer to a resolve the more it festered. 

You could always sing. The least they could do was kill you. The most you could do was kill them. Worst case… You huffed. You were already there. Yet, you’d never done anything of that sort before. Your mother hadn’t really taught you how to lure men to their deaths. She was one of those forward-thinkers who called it a dead practice. Your clan was pretty much the same. You could start singing and nothing would happen and they’d all laugh in your face. 

The bell at the front of the shop jingled pleasantly. Every man stiffened instantly, their eyes darting to their leader. He was the picture of confidence as he smoothed out his jacket and shot his right hand man a grin. “He must be early. Make sure our guest stays put.”

He? Your heart quickened as the man disappeared into the front room. Casting the remaining men a scathing glance, you decided that any consequence was better than doing nothing. 

So you took a deep breath.

જ ⁀ ➴

Law shoved the door open and stepped out of the sun quickly, shifting his leopard print hat to relieve the sweat building on his neck. His eyes adjusted to the room slowly. The shop was humble, dimly lit by three lanterns just enough to illuminate the counter and the shelves lining every wall. Humble and dirty too. 

He examined a row of bottles, all unlabeled, all similar in pale color. How exactly did these people organize? Law picked one up and swirled it around, squinting to try to identify it. He knew this shop had it. Bepo had called to make sure. He sighed and set the bottle back. This meant one thing: he would have to talk to the clerk.

A man clad in clothes screaming faux-wealth swiftly came to greet him, his face shining as he set his hands on the wooden countertop. 

“Greetings,” he simpered. “How was your arrival?”

His brow rose just slightly. “Fine. Listen, I called on the den-den earlier. I’m here for—”

“No need to, uh, mention the product, sir.” The man nodded to himself, folding his arms. “I run a tight ship here and tight lips are my sails.”  He leaned in conspiratorially with a sly grin. “But I’m sure you do as well, Mr. Calloway.”

Law blinked slowly and came to a decision. This idiot was obviously doing some shady shit, and he thought Law was yet another idiot. He could scoff and ask for what he needed, pay, then get the hell out.

Or… he could be curious.

“I do,” Law grunted. “Do me a favor, though. Don’t interrupt me again.”

The man in front of him buffered, his shoulders falling as if he was trying to look smaller in the face of Law’s intimidating stature. The surgeon’s ego only increased a little bit.

“S–Sorry, sir. ‘Was only trying to joke,” his laugh faded quickly, his smile strained. “I was rather stressed until now. My men were cutting it close with the transport from our barge. But! They came through, as always.”

He spoke with the air of a man who knew what he was doing, however much of a rat he smelled like. Whatever product this was, he knew the gravity of his business. Law nodded stiffly and cast another look around the room. “Hmm. Throw in some antiseptic while you’re at it. Some of my group got injured on the journey. Wanna stay prepared.”

The “clerk” didn’t even question it, his face lighting up. He scurried from behind the counter to grab three bottles from the highest shelf, returning with a giddy smile. “I completely understand. On the house.”

Law accepted bottles a bit too greedily, a grin sliding up his face. “I couldn’t.”

“You’ve lined my pockets enough, Mr. Calloway,” the man laughed. “Why don’t we just step into the back? The boys—”

The sudden sound of a crash followed by a booming voice shouting expletives did nothing but spike Law’s concern. The man at his side scoffed beneath his breath and started forward with an exasperated,  “What now…”

Law had what he needed. He had a perfect out. No need to dirty his hands. No need to get into unnecessary fights. Nicely wrapped up. He was halfway out the door when he heard another voice—sharper, wounded.

His feet moved before his head, carrying him forcefully into the back of the shop, the curtain dividing the two rooms swept out of his way. A figure lay collapsed on the ground, hands braced on the dirt floor, their eyes wild, fierce, afraid. 

You shot up onto your knees, teeth bared in something like a hiss, fingernails clawing at the dirt. A man gripped the back of your head and pulled at your hair, ignoring how you jerked away like you didn’t care about the sting on your scalp.

“You stupid fish!” He laughed in your face, shooting his boss a look of hilarity. “She tried singin’, charmin’ us.” With a shove you were back on your side. “Useless wench couldn’t even pull it off. Just a small tingle in the head. Ha!”

Fire lit in your chest, you lunged out, legs propelling you upward. Your hands gripped the man’s neck sharply, dragging him down, your nails breaking skin as your teeth sank down on his shoulder. He yowled underneath you, kicking your chest and flipping you over his head. Back hitting the ground, you heaved for air, just about to lick the blood from your fangs when another man reeled back to drive his boot into your chest. You didn’t have a chance to think before you were enveloped in warm light.

“Room.”

And suddenly, you’re safe, you think. 

The broad back of yet another stranger loomed in front of you, his hand outstretched powerfully. A sword rested on his hip. A dark scowl contorted his face. All you could do was stare at what you could see of his profile, how his jaw set perfectly, his hair peeking out from under a silly hat…

He was the type of human you’d dreamed of. Beautiful, strong-willed, a wall between you and danger. Unlike these kidnappers in every sense.

“M–Mr. Calloway!” The leader-man floundered for words. “What is the meaning—”

“Your operation’s being shut down,” the funny-hat man said, his voice a low timber that made your pupils soften. “And the name’s Trafalgar. You never really asked, did you?”

If possible, the man’s face paled even more. “You—Trafalgar D. Law?! T–The pirate?”

This Law scoffed in reply. “Don’t be a broken record.” His hand settled on the hilt of his sword almost imperceptibly, his chin tilted toward you. He barely glanced at you when he murmured, “Get out of here.”

Why, it was the only thing you could think. This glowing angel of a man who came out of nowhere and stood with such power… It was a chance. A very lucky chance.

And damn you if you refused to take it.

You backed away tentatively at first, as if you didn’t trust him to actually let you go. Your eyes found the leader suddenly, his face gaining back its color in a horrible angry pink. 

“What is this?!” he shouted, his hand inching toward his pistol. “You can’t—Do you have any idea how much I have riding on her?! How much she’s worth? How much money—”

The last thing you saw and heard was the shing of your hero’s sword coming out of its sheath, the sick smirk on his face, and his voice clear as day, “Sorry. I don’t really care.”

You turned tail before you could catch the aftermath. Your hands came up over your head as a gunshot rang out. You burst through the doors and bolted out onto the street, narrowly missing a mule pulling a wagon as you scrambled away as fast as you could go.

Your brother, you think. You had to find him. He would know what to do. He promised he would always find you, no matter how stupidly lost you got yourself. Surely that hadn’t changed in the two weeks you’d gone missing. Surely he would have gone after you. It was only a matter of how you made yourself easy to find.

Although… the longer you searched the streets… and the further into the bay you swam… you realized more and more that you’d been taken much farther than you thought. You were so far that the dolphins had a different dialect. You could barely understand them when they croaked out the name of the island.

Only then did the panic truly set in. The only thing that quelled the rising fear was the sight of a silly looking hat passing by the barrels you took to hiding behind—a silly hat attached to a silly man carrying a bottle and a smug grin.

જ ⁀ ➴

Law was being followed. 

Whoever was dumb enough to trail him was good; he gave them that. The signs were almost imperceptible—almost. Maybe it was a straggler from the shop. Whoever it was, he was ready to be rid of them.

He made a turn into a deep alley wall between two shops, just a few feet short of the docks, went around another corner in the maze of back roads, and waited. The patter of soft footsteps met his ears, his jaw tightening. The moment the person stepped around the next corner his sword was at their throat, only close enough to scare them. And scare them he did.

A shrill scream made him lose focus, his head whipping to the side just as a young woman stumbled backward, comically so, and landed on her back in the dust. Law, for all his confidence, faltered instantly. 

“Don’t kill me!” she pleaded, eyes wide, hand held up defensively, and God, if that didn’t make Law feel like a dick. 

His sword hung limply at his side now, his lips curled downward as he stared down at her strangely. It was the same woman from the shop, the one being sold like a common piece of goods. She wore only oversized clothing, men’s trousers and a thick tunic. Despite her fear the shine in her eyes lured his mind into a state of ease so gently he nearly allowed it. His eyes narrowed just slightly, blinking away the momentary hold as his guard shot right back up.

He scoffed and sheathed his sword. “Why would I kill you?”

You swallowed thickly, eyes like saucers, before you gritted your teeth. “You—your sword!” You shoved yourself off the ground. “Don’t act like you wouldn’t have cut me down if I was like those traders!”

Law could only avoid your glare as he rolled his shoulders, working at a crick in his neck. “Lucky you that I thought twice, then, right?”

The way your cheeks puffed, your eyes flaring up with frustration, it was almost cute—not that Law would ever think like that. He shoved down his innermost thoughts and faced you solidly just as you prepared your rebuttal. “Why were you following me?”

It was your turn to look away, eyes scanning the sky. “Well… I—I just thought…” Suddenly, all that fire was fading, sizzling into something so unsure. “I’m far from where they took me. I thought that since you helped me once, you might help me again.”

For the longest time, he said nothing, just stared at you like he was questioning his life choices. Really, he should start walking right then and there, be done with you like he should have been done earlier. “Help you how?”

You grasped at his wavering resolve with a vice, barely hiding the wicked grin sliding up your face. “Get me home.”

Instantly, he was halfway turned toward the alley entrance. “I’m not in that kind of business.”

“You’re a pirate, aren’t you?” You scrambled to stand in front of him again, hands splayed as if you could keep him there with your sheer will. “Pirates like money. I can get you money. When I’ve returned home. My family will pay you.”

Law crossed his arms firmly over his chest. His eyes remained locked with yours. “Just ask for passage on a shipping freight.”

Your jaw slackened at the mere suggestion. “And risk winding up right back where I started? I think not.” You shivered involuntarily, eyes unfocused, thinking of the blindfold and gag and rope. “Man is bad. I can’t trust them.”

You couldn’t decipher the look on Law’s face, his lips gently ticked upwards, thoughts hidden behind golden eyes. “I’m a man,” he mused.

You’re different. Again, you found yourself admiring his skin, the way he was built, how his legs held up his strong torso. Trafalgar Law was different from the other humans. Other humans were somewhat easy to read the more you observed them, their body language giving away too much; but this man was difficult. You wanted to tear him apart and discover everything that made him tick, all that made him the way he was and—you blinked fast, realizing you needed to answer him.

“But you killed them, didn’t you?” you asked, head tilted, gaze alluring. “I can smell their blood on you. They hurt me, and you killed them. That makes you good.”

Something in his face gave way; a bit of disbelief mixed with hilarity revealed itself. “That all it takes?”

“In my book, yes.” You could get him. You knew it. He might be hard to read, but he was still a man. “I mean it, about the payment. I think once I get to sea I can navigate the way, I just need someone I can trust. I won’t cause trouble. You’ll hardly know I’m there.”

He sighed like he was annoyed, eyes raised to the sky. You continued before he could say anything. “Please… Law, right?” His gaze flickered down at the sound of his name falling from your lips. You met him with a soft smile. “Law, I really wouldn’t insist if I had another choice.”

You think he cursed as he ran a hand over his face. Just a bit more…  

“Answer me this. Why were they selling you?” Law settled you with a cold look, wiping the satisfied shine from your face. 

He didn’t know? A subtle chill settled over you. You thought for sure he would have figured it out, but maybe it hadn’t been obvious. What damned luck. You mulled it over, choosing your words carefully. 

“If I tell you, you might understand them and take me hostage.” You shrugged. “So I won’t tell you.”

Law made a stifled sound, watching you turn your face. Perhaps you were dangerous, or maybe just stupid. Or perhaps you already knew what he just was realizing: he was going to say yes.

“You're making it hard to trust you,” he sighed. You beamed. 

“Well, then I think I can trust enough for both of us.” You inched closer to him with that damned grin. “Please… Captain, right?”

He let out the slightest scoff, eyes searching the distance for a miraculous way out. “All right.”

An unflattering sound escaped your lips. “Really?” 

Whatever he was going to say next was swiftly caught in his throat when you lunged at him, arms wrapped around him in a hold a bit stronger than he expected. His heart jumped a little, skin crawling just enough to make him shiver, but you had his arms pinned to his sides and damn, you had some muscle on you.

“Don’t—! Okay, first rule.” He wriggled out of your arms, holding you at a safe distance, all while you just beamed at him. “No hugging. No touching.” He pinched his brow briefly. “Don’t bother me unless you’re actively dying, actually.”

You restrained your smile as much as you could, nodding firmly. “Okay. Aye-aye. I can do that.”

Law already regretted this deeply, muttering a few brief words you didn’t catch as he led the way out of the alley and through the streets. You hovered at his side, walking in step with him, your eyes scanning the people warily. Your excitement was gone in a flash, replaced by a whiplash seriousness that had Law curious. 

The crew was surprised when they spotted Law approaching with a strange woman at his side. Bepo had been on the verge of going out to look for him when he didn’t come back to the submarine at the agreed-upon time, so when he saw his captain he jumped off the surfaced sub and ran at him, barely acknowledging you.

You gasped the moment you spotted the large white bear, and something snapped within your chest. Your pupils narrowed into thin slits, your mouth widened to bare your glinting fangs, hands flexing. You moved in front of Law swiftly and let out a hissing sound, about to take another step forward when a strong hand landed on your shoulder.

Law had this uncomfortable look on his face when you whipped around, pupils dilated, looking as innocent as a puppy. Bepo froze where he stood, blinking fast. 

“Uh,” he said, flinching when your dark gaze darted back to him. “Captain. Did you… have trouble?”

“Captain?” Instantly, your whole posture changed. The tension in your shoulders faded and an almost pleasant look took your face. You shook Law’s hand off and slowly walked up to Bepo, completely at ease. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were a friend.”

Bepo sent Law a puzzled glance. “Uhm, it’s all right.”

You circled him curiously, close but never touching, scrutinizing the bear as his eyes followed you all the way around. “What are you? You’re not human, are you?”

Blinking, Bepo almost chuckled. He waited till you stood in front of him again and replied simply, “I’m a mink.”

“Mink,” you whispered, rolling the word over your tongue. Seemingly satisfied, you stepped aside and turned your gaze to Law. 

Law thought back to Bepo’s question and sighed heavily, simply looking at you with a twinge of regret. “You could call it trouble.”

You were… strange. He would leave it at that. Whatever you were, Law could feel the danger reverberating off your skin. Honestly, the fangs were the least suspicious thing about you. 

“That woman,” Law said to you. He pointed to where Ikkaku stood watching atop the Polar Tang. “Tell her to get you a boiler suit and a bed.”

You followed his line of sight, your eyes shining at the sight of a human woman. You’d only seen them at a distance, sitting on seaside decks with fancy dresses and parasols. But this woman didn’t have anything fancy like that. Without another word you were racing toward the submarine, thoughts racing at a mile a minute, a list of questions to berate the poor Ikkaku with already at the tip of your tongue. 

“So,” Bepo mulled. “Who’s that?”

And Law realized, stupidly, he had never even asked your name. He pondered his sanity; Law had just allowed this strange woman onto his ship without ever asking her name, let alone who she was. Law sighed heavily for the nth time that hour. “Nothing but trouble, most likely.”

This is what he gets for playing the hero.

જ ⁀ ➴

It’d been five days since you took up residence on the Polar Tang, and no one on that crew had any clue what to make of you.

You took your agreement to Law pretty seriously, barely saying a word to him when he was around, though he saw the towering wave of questions begging to be asked behind your eyes. It was only a matter of time before that wave came crashing down on top of him. 

“She’s…” Ikkaku was saying to her captain one morning over a cup of coffee. “Different.”

It was the kinder way to put it. Ikkaku had shared her room with you, giving you half of her sizable bed and lending you some of her clothes. You were fascinated by her closet, taking her offer of “feel free” very seriously. Next thing she knew you were trying to get a pair of pants over your head, letting her know her shirt was missing a neck hole.

Law had nodded gently and taken a sip of his coffee right before you waltzed into the kitchen on Bepo’s tail. The polar bear looked at ease with your presence, even offering you some of the toast he prepared and making you your own cup of coffee. 

You sniffed it once before tipping it carefully and sticking your tongue down to lap at it. The moment it hit your tongue you jerked back sharply, spilling a bit of the liquid on the counter as you gagged exaggeratedly. Bepo floundered around you, needlessly apologizing and patting your back softly.

“What is that?” you shrieked.

Ikkaku and Law shared a blank look. “Coffee.”

“I. Don’t. Like.” You punctuated every word with a disgusted smack of your lips. 

Different was surely the way to put it. 

Different—but kind. Funny, even. The crew was realizing the latter fact the more time they spent with you. 

Shachi and Penguin told Law so when he came to them wondering about their guest. They weren’t even a little shy about admitting their game of flirting with you, and not even a bit ashamed at the fact that you flat out rejected them. 

“You’re a bit too excited to have been turned down,” Law mused.

Penguin shrugged a shoulder. “Well, yeah, that part wasn’t funny, but—”

“She didn’t even realize we were hitting on her,” Shachi cut in with a laugh. “She just gave us this weird look whenever we shot her a line, and she bit Penguin when he put his arm on her shoulder!”

Penguin showed the deep puncture marks on his forearm off like a badge of honor. “Ikkaku told her we were just messing with her and she switched up like that.”

Law let the wryest of grins slip. 

At least you hadn’t been lying when you said you could navigate once at sea. The first time Law had spoken to you since you joined them was the morning of the fifth day, when the sub had surfaced and he found you on the deck with a map. 

“I think I know which direction my home is,” you announced when he was a few feet away, never lifting your gaze from the sea. “I’d know for sure if I could see under the waves.”

“Under the waves?”

You nodded. No elaboration. Law was learning quick that you rarely explained the things you said, as if he was odd for not immediately understanding. 

“I was able to find stars I recognized last night,” you said. “Important stars. The Moon Tears point North, and they’re always directly above my home.”

Again, Law fell behind. He came up beside you to see exactly what markings you were making on the map. “Moon Tears?”

“It’s a constellation important to my people.” You pointed out one of your drawings—six dots pointing Northward. 

Your people. You’d been using that phrase often. Everything you said gave Law more information about what exactly you were, yet it all left him infinitely more confused in the end. Despite his longing, he didn’t press for answers. He couldn’t bear to let on how deeply you interested him. 

“We have windows,” he said at last, dragging his eyes away from your profile. “Below. You could see a bit of the ocean floor, but not much.”

“That’s perfect!” You beamed up at him, a habit of yours, and snatched up the map to rush below deck. Law forced himself into stillness, not daring to watch you go. 

Evening came fast, falling over the submarine as everyone followed their usual routines. Around that time of day Law would sit in his office mulling over a book or something of the like, unbothered and at peace.

Unfortunately, this particular evening there was a strange woman peeking in through the door. 

For the longest moment you only stared at him, lips tilted into a grin, your eyes trained on his every slight movement. Only when he raised a brow did you hurry inside and shut the door behind you. You held a mug dangerously closer to spillage. 

“Thought you didn’t like coffee,” he muttered.

You seemed to have forgotten the drink entirely, wide eyes darting before. Your face lit up all at once and you promptly set the mug down on his desk and slid it toward him. “It’s not mine. Ikkaku said you like this stuff.”

Law, struck dumb by the simple action, could only nod. He searched for words desperately as you turned to take in your surroundings. “Is that all?”

“Well,” you sighed. “It could be. I was hoping I could speak to you, though.”

“About?”

You shot him a scant smile, eyes sparkling, and picked up a book from his shelf. “Yourself. I’ve learned about everyone else, and I know I said I wouldn’t bother you, but Shachi and Penguin said if I brought a peace offering you’d be less grouchy.”

Law’s cheeks tinged pink. “They said that? Grouchy?”

With your back turned he couldn’t see just how the mischief showed on your face. “That’s the word they used.”

You finished your assessment of the office and came to plop yourself down in a chair. “So, can I?”

He blinked. “Can you…?”

“Ask you questions?” 

He could have rolled his eyes. Law glanced down at the mug, reaching out to bring it toward himself. The brew’s aroma wafted up, calming his annoyance bit by bit. He had the cup halfway to his lips when he caught you giving him a grin that just screamed gotcha. Ensnared, he shrugged a careless shoulder. 

“What do you want to know?”

You hugged a knee to your chest, chin rested there. Your eyes gleamed, and Law imagined just what kind of danger that gaze held. “How did you do the—the thing! When you, y’know, moved me!”

“Moved you?”

Frustration bubbled under your skin, words failing you, your hands waving as if that would make him understand. “Yeah. The guy was gonna kick me—” you pointed at his chest “—then you did something and I was behind you.”

“Oh.” Law raked a hand through his hair and sipped his coffee. “It’s my devil fruit’s ability.”

“Devil fruit?”

He paused at that. What rock had you been hiding under to not know what a devil fruit was? You weren’t stupid, and certainly not naive, like he first thought you were. It was why he couldn't wait to get you home so he could finally decide what to make of you, once and for all.

Law wouldn’t dwell on the enigma of you for too long. He couldn't. His life didn’t allow for more than a moment of respite most days, and Law knew well he had no time for pondering beautiful women. His cheeks flushed at the very thought, clearing his throat and escaping the moment by retrieving a book from the shelf. 

He opened it in between you, searching the pages as you leapt from your seat to lean over the book with him. He stopped on a page of elaborate drawings, finger drifting over a few of them. “These are devil fruits.”

Mystified, you craned your neck and squinted, hand pressing down on one in particular. It was his fruit, he realized. Your face lit up in recognition. "Oh! I do know about these. My father calls them the Bane of the Sea." Pausing, you tilted your head at him. “You have one?”

“I ate it,” he corrected, moving your hand to point at it instead. “That one. It’s the Op-Op Fruit.”

“You ate it?” You recoiled in disgust. “It doesn’t look good.” 

“I… well, I…” He stared down at the drawing, memories fighting to the surface. “You’re right. It wasn’t good.”

Maybe a minute passed by and Law couldn’t shake the darkness that took over, staring off into nothing. The silence only broke when something poked at his forehead and he gasped, his eyes blinking fast. His gaze focused on you, your finger pressed to his head, gaze wide with concern. 

“You disappeared," was your whisper. 

He was swatting you away before he realized it, walls rising up with the intense purpose of keeping you out of his head. “It gave me my abilities,” he went on, “and now I’m a devil fruit eater. I can do great things, but the sea has turned its back on me. That’s what the fruit does.”

“The sea turned its back on you?”

Law huffed. “I can’t swim. Seawater makes me immobile.”

Instantly you gasped, hand resting over your heart. “I can’t imagine that.” Thoughtful, you looked down at your hands, wiggling your fingers. “The sea is my life, but it's your death.”

He stood taking in the mystery of you, how you always walked like you were out of practice, how you asked questions about the most simple things, how he often caught you gazing at the ocean with such great longing. “You still haven’t told me… anything. I know nothing about you or why you were captured.”

Grinning, “Forgive my prudence.”

“You—” Law took a breath to calm himself. “The sea is your life. What does that mean?”

For a good long moment, you did consider telling him. It’d been a few days and neither he nor his crew had done anything to harm you. It was only five days, but you knew you could trust them. But you pictured the look on Law’s face. What if he threw you out? Decided that dealing with a mermaid wasn’t worth the reward? And really, you barely knew him. Who knows just what he would do. 

You averted your gaze and took up fiddling with the book again. “So, you can do magic?”

“It’s not magic,” he tried to say, too flustered by the insult to bother with his ignored question.

“If you say so. Show me.”

So he did, transporting item after item from here to there, all to watch your face light up and your voice raise in excitement. And when you finally departed, Law was left to wonder. He made his way to the galley for dinner some hours later, somehow still wondering, and stopped at the sight of you. 

You laughed arm in arm with Ikkaku, rolling your eyes at Shachi, stealing food from Jean Bart. A picture of normalcy aboard the Polar Tang, broken only by your fangs digging into a piece of chicken with ferocity he’d only seen in Strawhat Luffy. Nobody felt the need to understand you, no one pestered you about your past. Sure, you’re an odd kind of person, and maybe at the end of the day, Law could live with that. 

Things moved slowly after that. An understanding met. The secrets and half-truths were still there, looming over the ship, yet no one feared the moment they would fall. 

Days bled together, laughter echoed down the halls. Your shriek as you touched a hot stove again. Law’s voice as he chastised you, his jaw set while he treated the burn, ignoring how the crew whispered about how tender he’d been lately. 

You weren’t any less strange than the day you first joined them. If anything, everything about you grew more and more odd. Yet the crew could care less if you said confusing things sometimes, if their questions about where you came from only grew every time you opened your mouth.  

Not to mention, your fanged smile, flashing with unbridled joy, was proof enough that you weren’t exactly normal. 

“Tell me about your home,” he said one night. The crew had gone to bed, leaving the pair of you in the galley to clean up while the others got much needed rest. Law had his back to you, in the middle of washing dishes.

You shifted at the table. “What about it?”

“Anything.” He cast a look over his shoulder. “Your family?”

“They… they’re something,” you chuckled. “My father and mother are very strict. They never let my brother and I go very far from home. Even learning about the outside world was toeing the line.”

He paused whatever he was working on to watch you, eyes narrowing at the faraway look in your eyes. “Sounds difficult.”

You fumbled with your fingers. “Sort of. My parents only wanted to keep us safe, and now I see why. The first time I left home, I got kidnapped.” You couldn’t bear to look at him, not when you said, “I think maybe they were right. They always said I'm just… too fragile.”

Your eyes squeezed shut, memories of home haunting you, shame washing over you, before Law laughed. Full, hearty laughter poured from his chest and your eyes popped open, mouth agape. He dissolved into soft chuckles now, his gaze warm, yet you still bared your fangs at him. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” he said, sobered up quickly. “Just—I think you’re anything but fragile.” Law focused on the table, how the paper feels as he runs his hand over it. 

Before you could dwell too much on any of that, heart swelling, you huffed. “Tell my father that. He’ll likely lock me away forever now.”

Law scoffed. “Why let him?”

Your eyes held such sorrow when you looked at him, shaking your head. “You don’t understand. It’s not that simple.”

“Help me understand, then.” At your silence, Law leaned forward. “Everything in this world is dangerous. Might as well take the risk.” Law tilted his head, and it was hard not to feel small under his sharp gaze. “Why don’t you live for yourself?”

He watched as you curled in on yourself, gaze downcast, shoulders slumped. Law’s guard had never truly lowered around you, not when you were still so basked in mystery, so unwilling to tell him what led to you being captured. 

Again, you dismissed him, “You couldn’t understand.”

Distrust slipped off your tongue so easily, and Law supposed he shouldn’t have expected any different. At the end of the day, you weren’t his friend. You weren’t one of his crew. You were simply a client. He got up and left you in his office before he could say something he might regret.

The days turned to weeks, and at some point, you grew quiet.  

“I think we’re three days out,” you told him, the first words you’ve said to him in days. And then you turned away, off to somewhere deeper in the submarine, leaving Law with his hand raised from where he was about to touch your shoulder. 

When you made it to your ancestral reef, everyone would know. You were a mermaid playing pretend on a pirate ship. You were a princess. How pathetic. All of this would be over in a blink, and you should be happy, so why did your chest feel so hollow?

Biting your nails to the quick, you thought about how your new friends would react. How upset would they be to finally know the truth? More pressingly, how much would Law hate you? It was all you could think, the image of his glare possessing you entirely. Perhaps you could endure the wrath of the others, but Law? You don’t think you would make it.

“She’s acting weird,” Penguin mumbled to Ikkaku one morning, two days left on your journey. The whole crew had been thinking it; it was like you walked around with a thundercloud overhead, sighing deeply and moping around. 

“We are almost there,” she pondered. “Shouldn’t she be… I dunno, happy?”

“I would be,” Shachi piped up. “If she has the money to pay us, I’d imagine she’s got a cushy place.”

“Shachi.”

“What? Just saying.”

Bepo wedged himself between them, huffing through his nose. “Isn’t it obvious? She’s gonna miss us.”

And the truth no one was willing to voice… was that they would miss you too. In your absence, the ship would lose a bit of the carefree life they’d all grown used to. 

Ikkaku grinned suddenly, hitting her palm with her fist. “Let’s have a party.”

જ ⁀ ➴

“I’m coming!” you shouted, haphazardly rushing through the halls, huffing at Penguin incessant calling of your name. “What’s the—” your words melted on your tongue when you ran out the open doors “—matter…”

You barely recognized the small deck of the Polar Tang. Small lights were strung up all around, a little table littered with various foods and candles sat in a corner, and music played from somewhere unseen. You spun around to take it all in, brows in a deep furrow. 

“Surprise!” Penguin laughed. He hooked his arm around your shoulders and led you toward the rest of the crew, gathered together with a variety of different smiles. 

“What is this?”

Shachi burst forth and came to your other side. “A party!”

Eyes wide, you scanned the lot of them. “For me?”

“Who else?” Ikkaku grinned. “You’re gonna leave us soon. We wanted to end the trip with a bang.”

As if you needed reminding. Soon, you’d have to face your family, and likely your entire kingdom, and deliver those words grating against the back of your mind: you were right. You didn’t belong in this world. You could never belong with them, these wonderful pirates who made you feel like life was worth the living again. 

This lovely dream was ending soon.

Only when Penguin shook you did you notice the tears dotting your waterline. You quickly wiped them away and slapped on a watery smile. “Thank you. I just… I suppose I’ll miss this.”

Freedom, you thought. You’d miss the thrill of an unbridled existence. 

Jean Bart broke what could've been an awkward pause with, “Enough with the saps! Let’s dance!”

You were dragged every which way, laughing with each crew member as they made you promise to be well, to remember them, to maybe even reach out one day. You nodded along to every vow, but in your mind’s eye was your father’s glare as he locked the city gates on you forevermore. You would never see them again, and you’d never reach out like you were promising wholeheartedly to do.

You turned out to be a dreadful dancer on your two legs. Every step threatened to send you to the ground, your muscles too tense to even pretend this was fun. 

Somehow your legs became crossed right as you stepped forward, and you nearly crashed to the deck before a steady hand caught you around your middle. You righted yourself quickly and whipped around, finding Law very much in your space. 

The captain had been avoiding you, you think. Every time you caught sight of his silly hat he would disappear the next moment. It was maybe fair, given you’d evaded him ever since your tense conversation in his office, but you just couldn’t bear his questions. 

You couldn’t discern his expression, all his features stern and cold like they had been the day you’d met. The day he rescued you. You wondered if he regretted meeting you, like you regretted meeting him. 

In the depths of your heart, you would rather have never known a good thing than to have loved it and lost it. 

Law’s hand still lingered at your side. You scanned your eyes all down his face. Without a word, he walked toward the edge of the deck, and you followed him until the pair of you stood side by side at the guard rail. The salt air dusted your cheeks as the waves crashed against the hull of the submarine, rocking it gently. The night was truly beautiful, full of friendship and care, but suddenly you felt sick to your stomach. 

His shoulder brushed yours and that was all it took for all the emotion to come tumbling out of your chest. Your hand closed around Law’s wrist before you could stop yourself. 

You hardly knew him. You loved him. You had spent countless nights at his side in his study, in his office, in the kitchen—the whole ship was touched by soft moments where you had smiled brighter than you had in your whole life. You remembered Law’s face when you teased his hat, and his gasp when you touched his hair. How he had caught your hand and practically frozen time with those eyes of his. His soft efforts tore down your walls and you dared to think that maybe the rumble took down his too in the process.

Upon first seeing him, Law had been the human of your dreams. And though he was beautiful and strong and, despite his edges, kind, you’d discovered most of your dreams had been silly. Law could never rescue you, not truly. Real, true stories never actually ended that way. Now, you had a new dream, one where you got to live. 

You couldn’t say all of that, of course. 

So you released him, eyes locked on the sea. The air smelled like it did at the reef. You were so close to being home. This was for the best. You had never belonged here.

It wasn’t like Law could ever reciprocate.

“You’ll keep in touch?” he said, barely heard over the waves.

You whipped your head around to stare at him. He was getting good at reading you, you realized, as he continued, “I’ll give you our den-den number.”

Hope rose and fell like the tides. “We don’t have a den-den.”

Law’s lips pursed, eyes averting. He cleared his throat, and you hated to wonder what he was thinking. “Right. Why would you? You didn’t even know what they were till a week ago.”

A grin tugged at your lips. “It’s a nice thought, though. I’d like to talk to you again.”

His hand found yours this time as the cheers of your friends grew louder with every drink Penguin downed. His skin wrapped around yours until he nearly ripped it away. You caught his eye as your fingers laced with his, locking him in place.

“You’re the strangest woman I’ve ever met,” he confessed. Law looked anywhere but you, deciding to stare up at the moon when he went on, unprompted, the words slipping out like he couldn’t help it, “You don’t have to pay me.”

It was too much for your heart to take. His hand in yours, the words on his lips. 

“You could just admit you like me,” you teased, cheeks warm. 

Law rounded on you with wide eyes, somehow forgetting he was holding your hand as he snapped back, “I don’t.”

But you had him right where you wanted him, pressing on and stepping closer to his side. “Not even a little bit?”

You expected another retort, perhaps something snappy and dripping with sarcasm, not ready for his eyes to drop to your lips, something heady in his gaze. 

“Maybe,” he said at last. 

You’d never see him again. It was the truth echoing in your mind even as you leaned in closer, noses brushing, sharing his breath. You loved him. And you would never see Law again. 

“Law,” you breathed. You waited till he looked away from your lips and met your intent gaze. “I should tell you… I’m… the reason I was captured—”

A giant wave hit the side of the submarine and sent it tilting violently. Decorations and food slid off the deck and into the sea, cries of alarm leaving the crew as they grabbed onto anything they could to keep from disappearing beneath the dark waters. 

Law grabbed your bicep in one hand and clung to the guard rail before you could slip, his arms shaking slightly. You hadn’t realized you’d frozen in place, a deadweight for him to hold onto, but your eyes had locked on the sky. 

The moon was quickly enveloped in a dark cloud closing in from all sides, a cloud full of torrential rain and powered by harsh winds. The sky had been so clear, so perfect only moments before. So as the ship careened back to its right position only to be hit on the other side by another wave, you knew. 

The next hit wasn’t as strong and the ship remained steady, but it only allowed you to hear it: the ringing in your ears grew steadily until the song was clear as day. You threw your body against the railing and scoured the waters for a flash of scales, but in the dark it was impossible to tell where the sound was coming from. 

“Cover your ears!” you shouted over the wind. The crew heard you, somehow, their eyes wide and frightened. You stepped toward them, pressing your palms over your ears. “It’s a siren song!”

Ikkau was the first to act and snapped her fingers up to plug her ears, shouting at the others to do the same. You watched them, hoping it was enough, but the storm tossed the ship farther right. The crew couldn’t save the ship and avoid the song at the same time. It was what made the siren song so cruel—the sailors had to choose, their ship or their life. 

Law huffed your name and you realized your hands had fallen to your sides. He was soaked to the bone and looked silly clutching his stupid hat over his ears. The seawater weighed him down, making him look years older than he was. “You—”

“Get away from the edge!” You pulled him toward the center of the deck where the rest of the crew gathered. You had to come up with a plan, you had to find a way to stop this—

Jean Bart gasped behind you. “Shachi!” 

You and Law whirled around just as Shachi started bolting for the edge of the ship. Law broke from your hold in an instant and grabbed Shachi around his middle right as he had a foot up on the railing, ready to throw himself overboard. 

“Stop—Shachi, snap out of it!” Law grappled with his crewmate against the rail as Shachi clawed at the air, reaching desperately for the ocean. Penguin ran forward and shoved soft wax from the candles into Shachi’s ears. 

Again, Law called your name, his eyes trying to tear you apart. The ship lurched. Soaked in seawater, he didn't stand a chance. Law shot over the side. As the crew reached for purchase on the opposite side of the deck, you reached for Law. Someone shouted after you, their voice lost in the storm. 

You rocketed off the side of the ship in time to see Law disappear, his eyes finding yours and widening to the size of saucers just before he met the water. 

You had to catch him, had to save him. Diving beneath the waves, the silence of the ocean overwhelmed you, such a stark difference from the fury of the storm up above. You barely registered the harsh sting of scales creeping out of your skin, the discomfort of the two legs you’d become so acquainted with joining together. 

Eyes peeled, you weaved through the water and shot off like a bolt the instant the transformation completed. Law sank like a rock, as if the sea itself dragged him down into her depths. You took off after him—and you weren’t the only one. A figure darted down across from you, a spear in hand. The spear of your people’s City Guard. 

Something like a snarl left you as your tail whipped back and forth with power you weren’t aware you had, eyes no longer on Law but on the mer daring to take his life from him. You screeched at the top of your lungs. The mer startled, and you saw his face. Your older brother. He paused just enough.

Your body slammed into Law, your arms wrapping around him, your head covering his own. You hardly noticed when your brother’s spear struck your tail, not when you held Law in your arms. As soon as your brother pulled the spear from your flesh you hooked your arms underneath Law’s pits and swam for the surface. 

You broke through the waves, hauling Law’s head above water. The man’s eyes opened, gazing at you through his haze. His lips parted like he wanted to speak, and that was when he really looked at you. You didn't have time to decipher whatever he might think of you now, for a presence rose behind you. 

“Get away from him!” You whirled around, eyes ablaze. 

Casander snarled back just as darkly. “What are you doing?!”

“Stop all of this!” You stared helplessly at the sky. Lightning struck, thunder ringing in the sky. “Stop now!”

Confusion clouded Casander’s face, nearly overpowering his anger. You had no patience for hesitation. Your grip on Law tightened as you declared, “Stop this, Casander, or I will end it.”

Something archaic flashed in your eyes, a power deep in your soul lashing out for the first time in your life. The song rippled out of your lungs, not giving him time to process as your voice rose above the chaos, above the wind. Below the water, mers left and right felt the shift, their own voices falling silent as you commanded the clouds and the sea and brought them all under your will. 

Law’s heartbeat pressed against your chest from the way you held him. It was all you focused on, singing louder and louder until the wind and rain fell away. The storm clouds dissipated as quickly as they’d appeared, and the moon shone down the Polar Tang as if nothing had ever disturbed this perfect night.

Head after head popped up one after another, and when you opened your eyes you were surrounded by mers. The members of the City Guard. Old friends. Cousins. They had all been searching for you.

“You…” You looked down at Law, his body limp in your grasp. “You’re a… mermaid…”

“I was going to tell you,” you whispered in his ear. From the way he looked away, he didn't exactly believe you. 

Your brother swam forward, the water parting around him, and panic seized your chest. You hissed into the silence of the night, stopping your brother where he was. You felt every eye on you, from the confused mers before you to the whispering pirates up above. 

Casander spoke first. “What is the meaning of this? These pirates—”

“They saved me.” Your heart raced in your chest. “These pirates rescued me from the merchants who kidnapped me. They brought me halfway across the sea. And this is how you treat them?”

Another guard thought he had the right to argue. “We thought—”

“The practice of siren songs,” you cut in, gaze sharp enough to cut, “is banned. I should have you all imprisoned for the rest of your sorry lives.” You glared at Casander. “All of you.”

Casander made to say something more, but you continued. “You—” you pointed at a young woman to your right “—tell the King I’ve been returned home and to prepare the proper reward for my escorts.” When the mer made no move, you snapped, “Go!”

She was off in a blink. 

You weren’t sure what you were doing, or how you were supposed to move on from here, but a small voice called down from the deck of the submarine. You lifted your chin, heart dropping to your gut. The whole crew—your friends—stared down like you were some strange thing. None of the familiarity remained. 

Your tail flicked up without your permission, flashing for the crew to see in all its glory. Ikkaku gasped, breaking you out of your thoughts, and you steeled your expression over. Law was the priority. Law first, then… everything else.

“Toss down a ladder,” you told them. 

Penguin disappeared and returned as instructed, throwing a rope ladder over the railing and starting the careful climb down. The man turned, one hand still on the ladder, the other reaching to wrap around Law’s chest. He gulped upon meeting your gaze, eyes darting up and down. 

“You’re a fish,” he mumbled, and you couldn’t help but laugh, your adrenaline finally crashing. You passed Law to Penguin carefully, tail thrashing to help lift him out of the water. Law’s hand fell to your arm and with whatever strength he had, he squeezed. Your fingers wrapped around him just the same, sliding down his arm as you lowered back into the sea, fingertips touching his till the very last moment. You locked eyes for one brief moment, and Penguin hauled him up the ladder.

With a glance up at the deck, you blinked through the blurriness enough to catch a mink staring down at you. “Bepo…”

The polar bear leaned over the rail to get a better look at you, his brows drawn. “Are you…”

A hand settled on your shoulder as the crew all reached to pull their captain aboard. Your eyes fluttered then, head reeling. Casander turned you to face him, ducking to look you in the eye. “Come on.”

You drifted away from him, shaking your head to rid yourself of this strange haze. “I wanted to say goodbye.”

But Casander was done with your rebelliousness. He took charge once again, hand closing around your bicep like he was prepared to drag you all the way home. “Come home.”

“But—”

He shouted your name. The sound echoed off the sea. “For once in your life don’t be foolish!”

Your tail’s movements grew slower and slower, your neck disappearing underwater, your chin soon to follow. Casander’s voice cracked on your name this time as your eyes fell shut.

In the darkness no one had noticed the ring of red surrounding you. 

Bepo’s growl caught the whole area’s attention. The bear’s eyes narrowed at where your brother grasped you. “She’s bleeding! How could you not see she’s bleeding!”

Casander darted away from you like you’d burned him before rushing to scoop you into his arms before you could sink any further. “I—I had stabbed her—”

“You what?!” It was Ikkaku this time.

“I didn’t mean to!”

Murmurs broke out among the mers, fear rising quickly. Casander floundered helplessly. “What do I—?”

A hand planted on the railing of the ship, a body hauling itself upright as the seawater wore off. Law leaned heavily, regaining his strength, and mustered up enough of it to glare down at the water. You lay limp in the arms of that bitch who’d stabbed you, bleeding out while he treaded water like an idiot. 

“If you don’t want her to die,” Law said very carefully, making sure the merman was listening, “you’ll give her to us.”

“You—”

Ikkaku burst, “She’s going to bleed out!” 

“I’m a doctor,” Law announced to the crowd, and that was that. Casander knew when he was bested. He handed you off into the arms of pirates, his skin crawling at the warmth with which they cared for you. 

Casander was left speechless as the pirate crew disappeared into the belly of their ship, his head started to ache. He turned to the mer on his right. “Return to my father. I will wait.”

Your brother, left alone, stared up at the ship. Yes, he decided, he would wait as long as it takes.

જ ⁀ ➴

You awoke to warmth on all sides, lapping at your skin. Your head lolled from side to side, brow furrowed in discomfort as your neck ran against something cold. Blinking, the light poured into your eyes until they adjusted.

You were in a tub of warm water with your tail hanging over the edge. You leaned upward and ran a hand over the bandage wrapped tight around your tail. The muscles ached fiercely, but at least you weren’t bleeding. One look around the room and you froze. You knew this room. Why the hell were you in Law’s office?

The door opened unceremoniously as the man in question pushed it with his back, his arms taken by two glasses of water. A grumble rolled off his tongue when water sloshed onto the floor, his eyes closing before he let the door close behind him. Law opened his eyes and found you staring at him, as stiff as a board in that awkward sized tub. 

Neither of you knew what to say, so Law simply set one of the waters down on his desk and offered the other one to you. You reached up to take it only to slip under the water without anything to stabilize you, swallowing the warm bath water instead. A sigh left you, eyes peeking up out of the water, and you think Law was fighting a grin. 

He pulled up a chair while you readjusted, ignoring the glass altogether now. He set it aside, silence falling over the room. You fought over what to say to him, when he decided to take the first step.

“I feel like I should have put two and two together,” he mused, catching your eye. 

You chanced a smile and wiped it away all in one moment. “Perhaps.”

Law’s eyes searched your own,and for once you didn’t hide. Every sharp edge and shrouded secret was in the light this time. Still, he sighed heavily. “You never told me.” 

“How was I meant to?” You let out a breathy laugh, only half irritated by the situation. “Think of how we met. How should I have known you wouldn’t do the same the instant I told the truth.” 

The man at your side nodded, blinking fast. “You didn’t trust me.” 

You don’t trust me was what he really said, and you heard it, shaking your head. “That’s not it. You should know it’s not.” Hesitant, you moved a hand through the water, watching it ripple around your skin. “I was scared you’d send me away.” 

For the longest moment, he didn’t reply, too caught up in his own head. Then, finally, “I wouldn’t have.”

The moment ended as quick as it began with a grunt from Law as he cleared his throat. “How do you feel?” 

“Bad. Nervous.” You sank lower in the water as if to hide. Law leaned closer and rested his arms on the rim of the tub. You gazed up at him softly, grinning. “I’m really fucking scared.” 

He sputtered out a laugh, head hitting his folded arms. Law shook his head in disbelief at your choice language. It brought a little grin to your face, before it faded into something sad.  

“You once asked me why I don’t live for myself… ” You flicked the end of your tail and nearly scowled at the long appendage, your scaled shackle. “This is why. I don’t belong here, I never did and it was foolish to dream… But I don’t want to go back. Not ever.”

You said it like you were asking permission to even think it, waiting for someone to tell you it was okay to dare. Law leveled you with a look not unlike the kind he’d given you the last time you’d spoken of what you wanted. This time, you didn’t cower away.

“If you don’t want to,” he began, “then don’t go back. You don’t need anyone’s permission to start living your life.”

Yet even now, you had that same response, but you repeated it with such exasperation, like you hated to ever speak it. “It’s not that simple. They’re my family. And… my subjects.” Law’s brows vaulted. You gave a sheepish shrug.  “I’m sort of… the princess.” 

“Sort of?”

“I am a princess,” you corrected, matching his scant smile. “I’m not first in line, but, y’know.” 

“Mermaid princess. Any other secrets?” 

You blinked, mind blanking, and blurted, “I’m betrothed.” 

Law raked a hand through his hair, eyes ducked, until he couldn’t hold back the chuckle any longer. You splashed a little water at him. 

“What’s so funny?!” 

“Nothing.” The man reached for your hand before you could attack again, holding it tight. “Stealing you away is just gonna be harder than I anticipated.” 

This was something you had not accounted for. Your lips parted, your hand squeezing his. “You want me to stay?” 

“If you’ll join us,” he said, a gleam in his eyes.

“Yes.” You laughed, face bright. “I like it here. With you.” 

He was halfway to his feet before you ever finished, hand never leaving yours. “I’ll just go tell them that, then.” 

You beamed up at him, then froze. You tugged his hand and brought him back down to your eye level. “No. The only one left will be my brother. I should speak to him.” Resolved, you gave Law a firm nod. “Bring him to me.”

જ ⁀ ➴

Getting that pompous, murderous fish brat out of the sea was much more work than it should have been, but half an hour later (after a lot of screaming, a lot of arguing), there was a man toddlering around the submarine on two legs. The whole crew followed after him with varied levels of suspicion and aggravation. 

Casander, quite literally out of his element, hurried as fast as he could given he had the mobility of a newborn deer. 

“In there,” Law grunted, much more intimidating than he needed to be. 

The sea prince felt rather pathetic, but he also knew that any of them could take him down in seconds should he make the wrong move. Casander threw himself into the room Law showed him, not wanting to give anyone the chance to decide he needed to be taken out. 

He leaned his back against the shut door, eyes to the ceiling in a silent prayer, and startled when someone chuckled. Your brother stood to his full height when he noticed you propped up in the metal tub a few feet away. 

Casander scoffed at the sight, though his gaze softened on your bandaged tail. He approached and set a hand on the rim of the tub. “This accommodation is so… condescending.”

“I like it,” you replied, mostly to disagree with him. Your gaze locked him in place. “How’s your spear arm, brother? Is it sore? From where you maimed me?”

He stammered like an idiot, reaching for something reasonable to say. From the way he plopped himself on the ground beside the tub, he came up empty. Casander settled on rolling his eyes. “Would it help if I apologized?”

You considered him, humming. “No. I don’t think I’d accept it. You would have killed my friend if I wasn’t there. You would have killed all of them.” You shifted in the water, pulling yourself closer to him. Your fangs glinted in the light. “Do you have any idea the hell I would have brought down upon you if any of them had died?”

Your brother sighed your name as he looked anywhere but in your eyes. You grabbed his chin and jerked his face back around. “I would have ended you. I would have left you a hollow of yourself, just enough to call it mercy. Do you understand?”

Silent, he nodded, so you released him and relaxed back into the water. 

Now came the difficult part. You leaned your head back and stared up at the ceiling. “All that to say… I’m not coming home.”

Casander’s jaw fell, his voice a shell of his usual composure. “Don’t be foolish.”

You flashed a glare at him. “I’m serious, Casander. I have always done what was asked of me. I’ve always been the perfect princess, and look where it got me. I was captured anyway, despite all my precaution, all the rules I followed. I have never wanted anything for myself. But this… I want this life.” 

The declaration left you breathless. You dared to glimpse his reaction, watching Casander’s face grow colder and colder. 

“You want him,” he scoffed after a moment. 

Warmth filled your chest. “Among other things.” 

He dragged his hands down his face, eyes shut against reality. “And what should I tell our parents? Your intended?” 

“My intended?” You laughed at him and reached to flick his forehead. “Tell them I made a choice, and that I’m sure the seas won’t cease to flow in my absence.” 

Your older brother, so strong and brave, shook his head violently. “You’re being stupid.” 

“Maybe.” 

“You can’t trust him,” he tried, looking desperate. “He’s a man. He's eaten the Bane of the Sea. I can smell it on him. He’ll betray you and when he does the reef won’t welcome you.” 

Even though he glared and his voice rose against you, you knew Casander better. He was rude and callous and would probably drag you home himself if not for the crew of pirates loitering outside the door. And though he had wanted to kill Law,  though he had nearly killed you… he was still Casander, wasn’t he? The brother you knew would come after you, who you knew would rescue you no matter what? 

You gave him a sorry smile. “You don’t mean that.”

“I don’t,” he agreed, heaving a sigh. His eyes fell to your tail again, guilt passing through his gaze. “And if I say I’ll miss you?”

You rolled your eyes. “I’ll leave you this little snail thing. It’ll help us communicate across the sea if you’ll really miss me so badly.”

Casander shoved at your face and splashed some water over your head before all humor and joy fled his body, and he became the picture of the perfect prince. 

He stood, pressing a hand to your shoulder. “I hope he treats you well. I hope you’re happy.”

“I am,” you answered, and Casander left the room and the ship altogether without a fight. For the first time in months, you felt totally, truly free.

જ ⁀ ➴

Someone shouted your name, you think it was Ikkaku, but you ignored every warning and balanced on the edge of the tree branch. You clung to a vine to keep steady and looked all around the forest form your bird’s eye view. The trees went on for miles. You’d always known that land could be as vast as the sea, but to see it was something entirely different to behold. A life-filled laugh bubbled out of you. 

You cast a glance down at the jungle floor. Ikkaku walked away with a series of grumbles, following after Bepo and Shachi as they weaved their way through the undergrowth. 

Law crossed his arms and even at a distance you could see the wry grin on his lips. You called down to him, “I’m getting good at this, don’t you think?”

He lifted his chin, guarding his eyes from the sun with his palm. “Until you fall, of course.”

“You’d catch me, right?” you shouted back. He didn't say yes, but he didn't say no either. 

You climbed down the tree haphazardly, missing a few branches and dropping a good foot with a frightened squeak, but you always recovered. Climbing every tree you could find turned out to be the perfect form of exercise. 

He was there when your feet hit the ground, a barely there smile lighting up his face. 

“One day,” he said in your ear, half turned to follow the others, “you’ll fall.”

You fell into step beside him with a shrug, eyeing him teasingly. “You won’t let me.”

He didn’t reply, but you knew it was the truth. In the few months since the pirates had “stolen you away” as Penguin liked to call it, you’d come to know your place in the crew (as well as in Law’s heart).

What the submarine’s sonars couldn’t pick up, you went out to scout. Over time, your training paid off, and you became quite skilled with a set of throwing knives, and even better at close hand combat. Not to mention your unofficial job as “Law Retriever.” Your captain fell into the sea more often than you’d like. 

And the captain was grateful. And he was strange. The relationship between you and Law wasn’t one with strict rules or an exact name. All you knew was that he waited for you when you fell behind, he took your hand when he thought no one was looking, and he had this soft expression reserved only for you.

You reveled in his attention, really, and were barely able to contain your own affection enough to not scare him off. 

The pair of you stopped at the edge of the clearing the rest of the crew were exploring. Law’s shoulder nudged your own, so with a roll of your eyes you took his hand. 

“You think you’re so subtle,” you muttered. 

He cast you a sly glance. “Aren’t I?” 

“Not at all.” You shook your head and turned to face him. “I see right through you, Captain. At this point, there’s not a thing you could do that would surprise me.”

He chuffed, lips tilted into a grin. You didn’t catch the challenge flashing in his eyes, not until his hand cupped your cheek and dragged you in. A shocked sound rumbled from the back of your throat, wide eyes set on his cheeky face, and you barely dared to breathe. 

“Law?” you squeaked, and he leaned closer… and left a kiss on your cheek. 

He stepped away as quickly as he’d invaded your space and walked toward Bepo, leaving you breathless and increasingly frustrated. You growled under your breath. “Law!”

Your captain simply gave you a thumbs up, lips pressed together to hold in a laugh. 

In your crew, you knew exactly where you stood. And maybe it was naive to think you knew precisely how you and Law worked, to claim he was an open book. Honestly, as the warmth crept up your neck and you fled to Ikkaku’s side, you didn't really mind the uncertainty. You cast Law a brief look, catching him staring at you from across the clearing, still grinning. 

Whatever this was, there was a kind of freedom in the unknown of it all. You wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @100520s @kryscent @kultofkorii @dreamcastgirl99

[luckybrandjs]

𝜗ৎ one piece x reader: random things that make them fall for you

ft. luffy, zoro, sanji, robin, ace, law

𓍢ִ໋❀ luffy

having a loud/obnoxious laugh. most jokes inevitably go over luffy's head, and he'll just look confused. what really knocks him out, though, is the incredibly offbeat laugh you let out; the joke itself doesn't have to be all that witty, but the way it has you cackling makes it the most hysterical thing in the world.

not being picky. of course, this mainly goes for food. but it also means being down for whatever, whenever; you never question it when luffy says to do something, you never bring down the mood. you just nod and trust him to keep you from ever being bored or unhappy.

expressive body language. you're very comfortable with your emotions; you're not scared to show them. you'll cry when your sad, be energetic when your excited, and smile when your happy. it just makes you an easy person to be around, and luffy can't help but be drawn to you for the same reasons people are drawn to him.

𓍢ִ໋❀ zoro

resting bitch face. obviously zoro has one. but he really likes it on you, too. it'll come out whenever your too focused, or too bored, and nothing seems too exciting. that is, until zoro appears, and the brightest smile appears on your face. suddenly you look like the friendliest and most approachable person on the planet.

having a good memory. zoro gets lost often, obviously. so its nice to be around someone who at least remembers the route they took. but it's the way you remember every little detail about him, even ones he himself forgot, that really gets him going.

competitiveness. others call you stubborn. you never back down until your proven wrong, and you won't stop playing until you win. but zoro is just like you in that sense. it could be something as trivial as a game of uno, but the amount of passion you pour into it always mirrors his. it makes winning all the more satisfying when its against someone who actually cares.

𓍢ִ໋❀ sanji

asking him for help. its not as if your incompetent, or unable to do anything by yourself, but rather you're comfortable enough in your own abilities to ask for help. and sanji knows this, too. whenever he gets a chance to go out of the way for you, he'll do it in a heartbeat (acts of service king).

being a perfectionist. you always know what you want; you always have a clear vision. but it also causes you to stress about every single detail that most wouldn't notice. yet sanji also appreciates the finer things in life, and will do everything in his power to meet your expectations. your high standards also make him feel like someone who's worth being around; if he can make you satisfied, he could really make anyone satisfied.

saying his name in conversations. the two of you could be casually talking on the deck, about something as boring as the weather, neither fully engaged. but the minute his name comes from your lips he gets all flustered. it astounds him every time, too, that just the way you say his name could really kill him.

𓍢ִ໋❀ robin

braiding her hair. you could just be leaning on her shoulder, playing with her hair while her attention was occupied by something else, and make it seem like she was the most fascinating thing there. just your presence alone was enough; she never felt the need to put on a performance or humor you to receive tenderness.

interest in her interests. robin knows her part on the crew is vital, yet none of the other strawhats seem too keen on her passion for history. except for you, that is. archaeology isn't just a hobby of hers, it was the only constant in a decade full of turmoil and isolation. your attentiveness makes her feel like she's sharing a piece of her soul with you, a reminder that she's not only needed but also wanted.

committing to a bit. i think robin's sense of humor is somewhat under appreciated. she could be gaslighting luffy and chopper of something completely false, and you'd immediately get it and play along. if they ever mentioned it to someone else, the two of you would go out of the way to convince them of it too.

𓍢ִ໋❀ ace

watching you do something you love. ace is weird in that he could see someone he loves doing something as natural as a hobby of theirs, and fall in love all over again. he's awe struck by every small thing about you; anything you do can really knock him out. he could watch you just exist and be content for the rest of his life.

adding "my" in front of every nickname. he swears it kills him. you'll never just call him "handsome" or "baby," its always "my handsome boy" or "my baby" with you. he just loves that he's someone's one and only, no matter how corny others may find it.

oversharing. not only does ace love everything about you, he wants to know everything about you, too. he practically wants to become you, just too see exactly how your mind works. and being able to talk to him about anything just goes to show how much you trust him, and how safe he makes you feel.

𓍢ִ໋❀ law

comfortable silence. law's life is full of chaos, from his crew, to his plans, and to the emotional turbulence inside his mind. but your presence has the ability to silence the rest of the world; it reminds him of his time with corazon. the two of you just mind your own business usually, but it's better than being on your own.

having niche or weird hobbies. law's never been super talkative or anything, but he loves listening whenever you talk about something you love. especially if it's something others would find strange, like lock-picking or bookbinding. it makes him feel less weird about coin collecting.

being the only one too laugh at his joke. law usually gets drowned out by others in a large group setting, but it's not as if he really minds. yet still, he can't help but feel a sort of intimate connection when you laugh at something he muttered that no one else even heard. it's just reassuring to know someone's always listening.

anything but studying for finals 🥹🥹

part two maybe 👀👀??

[vyainide]

Idk if you do requests so pls ignore this if not! But do you think you could do more of the Luffy in-game leader series??

ㅤㅤㅤㅤus two so tangled upㅤㅤ＼ㅤa series of texts with your guild captain: one, two, three, fourㅤㅤ𖥟

麦わら၇⃪⃖ꪆ୧ㅤ𝒎. luffy x gn! readerㅤ 𓊉 ㅤㅤㅤ───modern au, op as an mmorpg, swearing, angst??? idk maybe, plot!!!!━─⠀ ❤︎ ㅤ2026©vyainide ㅤㅤ︶ིྀᩧㅤ1864lib

vyon's mouthpiece. coming out as a luffy yumeshipper, these are all my personal chats with him, pls be respectful of me and my boyfriend 🩷

[froggiewrites]

Lost in a Dream

Pairing: Law x Reader

NSFW

Summary: You're haunting Law's dreams, and he's finally reached his breaking point. Content: Smut, AFAB!Reader, Wet Dreams, Masturbation, Vaginal Sex Word Count: 2.8k

Law would give anything to stop thinking about you. At least to stop thinking of you topless, moaning his name.

He had never thought of you in such a way, he would insist to anyone who would listen. No, of course he never had sexual thoughts about you: you’re his friend! One of his closest, oldest, dearest friends. A very beautiful, kind, and beloved friend, whom he had known long before he became the cool and collected captain he was.

Okay, maybe he had a few of those thoughts back when you were both teens and his hormones had run wild. But he pushed them down, like a good friend would. And anything he had done to banish those thoughts was between him and God. That was years ago, anyway, and he had fully convinced himself he only saw you platonically.

Until the damn dreams started.

Law had never been particularly fond of dreams. They were never kind to him. Faces of those he’d lost, those he failed to save, mistakes he couldn’t undo all haunted him at night. He was reluctant to sleep at all most days, only giving in after you or Bepo had forced him to lay down and exhaustion overpowered him. Once he would have been grateful for pleasant dreams or a full night’s sleep. 

Law! Yes, Law!

Your voice haunted him, the image of you on top of him. The way you so sweetly called for him, the way you clenched around him, the way your chest bounced with every movement. God, it was intoxicating. He would give anything to hear you call his name like that again. Anything except risk your friendship, one of the only things that kept him grounded in life. When he woke up from the first dream, a stain on his pants and shame in his heart, he swore he would never let something like this affect your relationship.

But then it happened again.

And again.

And again.

Always something different. Sometimes you were on top of him, sometimes below him, sometimes on your knees, sometimes bent over his desk. Every time your beautiful eyes blinked at him, filled with tears of pleasure, your sweet voice keening for him to give you more, more, more. And every time he woke up to a problem needing to be solved and more feelings to push deep down, never to return. Until the next night, when it happened again.

He had never been more grateful that he had his own room. He can’t imagine how humiliating it would be if someone else saw him like this, biting down on his pillow as he rut into his own hand. If someone saw the way tears slipped down his lashes as he sped up, heard his cry of your name muffled into the fabric between his teeth, he would never be able to recover.

But luckily, no one ever would. His shame would stay in the dim light of his cabin, and his carefully protected image of control would remain unblemished. You’d never suspect a thing.

But the thoughts remain.

And he could handle that, really, he could. He’s a grown man, he can control himself. But you just keep pushing him, not even knowing what you’re doing. It’s small things, really. Yesterday, when you laughed at a dumb joke Shachi told you, you leaned forward enough to show off just a hint of your cleavage. Something that shouldn’t even phase him, but made him white knuckle the table to stop himself from throwing you over his shoulder and marching down to his room. 

The day before that, you put your hand on his knee during dinner, thumb gently brushing against him as you smiled and told him you thought everything was going to be okay. You’ve comforted him like that a thousand times, but he couldn’t focus on the tender tone of your voice, only the feeling of the warmth of your hand seeping through his pants. He imagined that hand sliding higher and higher, how that warmth would feel somewhere else.

He had to excuse himself from dinner. You thought he was still upset, tried to follow him in concern, and he just barely managed to fend you off before he ran to his bathroom and took care of the hard-on you’d given him. He prayed you didn’t hear his quiet moans of your name or the sound of him pumping his cock in his hand.

A thousand small things, ways you show you care or small motions that show off your body, all building pressure that threatens to burst whenever he looks at you, threatens his carefully crafted control. 

You’re so determined to break him, but he remains strong.

Until you wake him halfway through the worst dream yet.

Law! Law! God, yes, Law! Your voice is still ringing in his ears, your cunt still tightening around his cock, as your hand shakes him awake.

“Law! You can’t sleep here, you’ll fuck up your back.” Your voice is so soft, so concerned, as you try to pull him up from his desk. He can already feel the pain in his spine as you pull him to his feet, but he can’t bring himself to care right now.

He’s hard, he’s horny, and you’re right here, your hands on him as he can still hear you screaming his name.

He takes a step forward, his arms threatening to wrap around you, and he can just barely process that you’ve removed your hands from him as your eyes shift away from him.

“Law?” Your voice is meek, nervous, not at all like his dreams. But the red on your cheeks, the way your eyes shine? Those are familiar. He’s so close now.

“Do you know how hard it’s been?” He can barely keep the shake from his voice.

“What?” You take a step back, but your back hits the wall behind you.

“I’ve been holding back for months. Trying to keep control, to not ruin this, but you just,” he takes a step forward.

“Keep,” another step.

“Haunting me.” Your chests are pressed together, and he can feel every breath of yours as your tits press against him. They feel even better than he imagined. He almost expects you to push him away, to run, but you don’t. Instead you stare at him with your stupid, beautiful doe eyes, lips slightly parted, face flushed, and he can’t hold back anymore.

Your lips are soft. They’re slightly tacky from your chapstick, and he’s delighted to find it makes you taste like strawberries. You tense for a moment, and he fears he’s frightened you, ruined everything, but then your arms wrap around him and he knows you’ve wanted this just as badly as he has.

His hands grip your ass as his tongue presses firmly against your lips, which you almost immediately part wider to allow him better access. One of your hands presses firmly against his back, while the other slides forward to grope at his chest. Your fingers press into his shirt, seemingly torn between pulling him closer and feeling every inch of him beneath your fingertips. His hips roll against his will, and the whimper you let out into his mouth destroys what little self control he has left.

He lifts you with ease, pulling you impossibly closer, before throwing you onto his desk, papers and logs be damned. Nothing on it is more important than him being inside of you as soon as humanly possible. In his dreams, he always stripped slowly and sensually, teasing you until you were begging for his touch, his cock, but he’s going to explode if he isn’t inside you within the minute. He practically rips off your uniform, throwing it behind him, where he can hear it take something that sounds suspiciously like his lamp down with it, glass shattering when it hits the floor. He can’t bring himself to give a shit.

“Law,” you say in that squeaky little voice you always get when you’re surprised. “What’s—”

Your sentence breaks off into a moan as he sinks his teeth into your neck. He can smell your shampoo mixing with the scent of your sweat, and god he really might break this desk beneath you if you keep driving him insane. Your hand shoots to the back of his head, gripping his hair and tugging as you continue to let out little whimpers and moans with every thrust of his clothed hips against your panties. 

“Every night, you ruin me, and I have to wake up and pretend to forget,” he groans into your neck. “Every night you give me everything I’ve ever wanted just to take it away. You’re cruel.”

He wants to take off his jeans, but he can’t bring himself to remove his hands from you. You’re so much better than his dreams, soft and warm and real beneath his fingers. His mind could never have conjured up such a perfect feeling.

You must have read his mind, because your hands slide his coat from his shoulders, fingers tracing his abs down to his waist. He’s so lost in the feeling he doesn’t understand your intent until you let out an adorable frustrated huff. “Stop moving for a second,” you snap, fingers struggling to grab the button of his jeans.

“I don’t know if I can.”

“If you tackled me to the desk so you can grope me while you cum in your pants I’m leaving.”

The laugh that rips through him stills him just long enough for you to pop the button and rip his pants and underwear down. The fabric catches on his thighs, but you’re stuck, frozen, watching his cock spring out of its prison. Law has always been proud of his body, but nothing has made him feel sexier than watching the way your mouth falls open looking at him.

“You’re drooling,” he chuckles.

“I am,” you say, not taking your eyes off of his dick. You reach for it, fingers tracing lightly up his length, and watch as it twitches in response.

“Don’t tease me,” Law says through gritted teeth. One hand grips the desk for dear life, the only thing holding him back from slamming into you like an animal.

“Oh? Don’t what? I couldn’t hear you.” Your fingers trace back down, following the vein, touching enough to stimulate but not enough to pleasure.

Law is a proud man. He does not beg. He would never—

“God, please—” His voice breaks off once you mercifully wrap your fingers around him, thumb rubbing briefly against the head. He shudders, head falling forward, pressing himself as deeply into you as he physically can.

“It’s even bigger than I imagined,” you murmur.

“You imagined me?” He tries to make his voice sexy and gruff, but it comes out as more of a whine.

“All the time.”

He latches onto your neck, both to get himself to stop talking before he makes himself sound as undone as he feels, and to mark you as his. He desperately needs to leave some kind of sign that this happened, something to tell him tomorrow this wasn’t just another one of his tortuous little dreams. This is real, it is the best thing that’s ever happened to him, and by god is he going to make sure he remembers every single moment.

His free hand reaches for your panties, pulling them down far more carefully than he did your uniform. The delicate lace is a bit less durable than thick canvas. You hiss as your cunt is exposed to the air, your hand slightly tightening around his cock.

He removes himself from your neck to look you in the eye. Your face is flushed, your pupils blown out, and your hair is a mess. You look beautiful. “Ready?”

“Please fuck me already, Captain.”

You barely have time to get your hand out of the way before he’s slamming into your entrance, the force of it shaking the desk beneath you. You feel heavenly, warm and wet, clenching around him. Law lets out an absolutely mortifying noise, halfway between a moan and groan, and you clench around him tighter in response.

“God—”

“Oh Law—”

His dreams didn’t compare to the real thing. Your voice dripping with desire and want, the friction as he pulled out inch by torturous inch, it was beyond dream or fiction. He could never have conceived something so wonderful. He ruts back into you, to the hilt this time, your hips slamming together with near bruising force. The desk shakes again, creaking dangerously, but he doesn’t give a shit and he can’t imagine you do either. 

One hand remains on your hip to stabilize you, and the other takes the opportunity to explore your chest as he kisses you. Your teeth clack together, your noses bumping, but none of the awkwardness detracts from the feeling of your soft lips against his. You easily allow his tongue into your mouth, putting up no fight to the tidal wave of lust driving him to consume you whole. 

Your chest is so soft beneath Law’s fingers he could weep. His teenage self would have killed a man to feel this, and frankly, he still would now. You whine into his mouth when he pinches your nipple, a sound that he swallows greedily. He wants every part of you, every noise and smell and feeling you can offer.

He tries to keep control of his hips, but he can feel his pace growing quick and sloppy. He wants so desperately to remain in control of everything, to spend the entire night giving you all of the pleasure you could stand, but you feel so good around him and he’s needed this for so very long.

He pulls back for a breath, chest heaving, and he sees your eyes have grown unfocused, your mouth still open as the spit connecting you catches the light.

“Law, yes, god, yes!” You sing like an angel. He can feel your legs growing tense as they tighten around his hips, and he’s assured to know you’re as out of control as he is. His hand reaches down, his fingers not hesitating for a second before finding your clit. His rough fingers press against you, rubbing experimentally as he tries to follow your expressions to see what way will best make you fall apart beneath him. You’re far too gone for such intense study, as every move he makes brings you closer to the edge. Your nails dig into his back, dragging down his shoulderblades, and it takes everything in him not to cum instantly. He’ll be damned if he cums before you do.

Your breath quickens as your moans turn to high pitched whines, growing louder and louder until one final thrust and rub brings you beyond the edge. You throw your head back and scream, your arms pulling him closer until your chests touch, your legs wrapping around him and locking him in place. You spasm around his cock, squeezing as though your life depends on it, and he follows soon after with the small thrusts your legs will allow him.

You collapse beneath him, boneless, as he comes as deep into you as he physically can. He falls on top of you soon after, barely catching himself on his forearms to keep from crushing you. His chest heaves as he tries and fails to catch his breath, so instead of breathing he settles for suffocating while admiring your beautiful flushed face. Your eyelids have fallen shut, your mouth letting out little puffs of air as you struggle with the same problem he is. His dreams never got this far, to the after.

It’s amazing.

You look so amazing fucked-out beneath him, a smile on your face that he’s sure you aren’t even aware is there. He could live in this moment forever, just staring at you, knowing he’s the one who made you look like this.

Even as he leans forward a little too far and a loud crack lets him know the desk is giving out beneath you.

He just barely manages to pull you on top of him so his back hits the floor instead of yours. You’re tucked into his chest, his arms wrapped around you protectively. You stare at the desk’s remains as he stares at you, and when you laugh, his chest tightens. God, he might be more in love with you than before.

As he lifts you, watching the way your eyes sparkle as you giggle and ask how he’s going to explain the desk to the crew, he thinks he can live with some more frustrating dreams. It’ll never compare to the real thing, and he has a feeling you won’t mind him coming to you for more help in the future.

Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece @shy-writer-999 @dreamcastgirl99 @eggrollforyou

[loverrin]

| SEAT BY THE WINDOW | TRAFALGAR LAW

summary: as a medical student, trafalgar d. water law finds himself constantly exhausted and in need of caffeine. somehow, he stumbles across a cafe near his university that just so happens to be open at all hours of the night! and it just so happens that the owner is cute, too. pairing: med student! law / barista! reader wc: 5.1k tags: modern! au, f! reader, fluff, law wants you so bad, both you and law are tired and have bad sleep schedules, awkward law, law is tall but we always forget because one piece characters are the size of mountains a/n: i love law so much

Law liked to lie to himself and insist that the Keurig Classic coffee maker he owned was enough. Despite the fact that he felt compelled to get his coffee during the day from a cafe, and only used the machine at night when everything was closed, he insisted it was fine.

He would force himself to drink the bitter coffee made from a pod, waving his roommate Bepo off when he offered to brew him coffee from ground beans, saying the Keurig was perfectly fine.

It wasn't like his face twisted every time he took a sip from the piping hot cup, wasn't like he preferred his coffee cold but couldn't put ice in the homemade brew without it tasting like watered-down shit, and it wasn't like it was a big deal.

Until one day, Shachi and Penguin showed up to his apartment, claiming they had a cure for all his problems.

"You're paying my med school bills, or what?" Law asked, bored and hunched over a table. "That would definitely solve a lot."

"Let's not get too crazy." Shachi snorted, before sliding Law his phone. "Look! This cute new cafe's opening a block away from you, and they're open 24/7. You should go try it out!"

"Coffee's probably shit." Law shrugged, barely glancing at the phone. "Anybody who has that much time on their hands to keep themselves open all day and night probably has low quality beans."

"I think you're discounting it too fast." Bepo scolded his roommate, washing dishes from the kitchen. "They could be perfectly fine, and maybe even your new favorite. There's no harm in giving it a try."

Law frowned, glaring at his textbook. Every morning, he got a cold brew from Nico Robin's cafe downstairs. Then, he'd get another one after classes in the afternoon. They closed by five, which was already pretty late for a cafe on the university campus, which meant that at night, his best friend (enemy) was the Keurig.

"Twenty four seven..." Shachi whispered, wiggling his fingers and getting closer to Law. "And they even have pastries. And seating. And wifi, and there's probably nobody there to bother you in the dead of night."

"When do they open?" Law sighed, shutting his eyes and rubbing his temples, doing his best to ignore how Shachi and Penguin high-fived each other behind his back.

"Today! Or actually-" Penguin peered at his watch, checking the time. 1:04 a.m. "I guess yesterday."

"Any reviews so far?" The med student mumbled, closing his textbook gently.

"Five stars!" Shachi said gleefully. "Me and Penguin went after class in the afternoon, and guess what - the owner of the place is super cute!"

"What does that matter?" Law peered at them, annoyed. "Tell me how the coffee was. Or the food."

"Oh." Shachi and Penguin pouted simultaneously, crossing their legs before Penguin spoke. "Well, I thought the coffee was good. Shachi really liked the food - they have some instant ramen options, a lot of pastries, stuff like that. Some quiche, too."

"Quiche." Law repeated, unamused. "You're telling me about their quiche."

"I'm just telling you, in general!" Penguin groaned. "I don't know what you have against quiche - it was really good! Seriously, I think we should go."

"I will go." Law said, grabbing his coat from the back of his chair, tucking his laptop into his bag, and standing up. "You will stay here, with Shachi and Bepo. As for the quiche, I've never had a quiche that doesn't taste like slop and vomit."

"That's just because Bepo's cooking is shit." Shachi said, pointing at Law's roommate, who bowed in apology, murmuring "I'm sorry" and "I'll do better."

"Stop bullying Bepo." Law sighed, patting his roommate on the shoulder. "Your cooking is fine. I'll be back soon."

Shachi and Penguin frowned from the couch, shouting objections about how they wanted to go too. It was too late - Law was already out the door, slinging his coat over his shoulders.

Just as Shachi had said, the cafe was only a block away from Law - incredibly close, and not very hard to find considering most stores had all their lights off already. As he approached, he heard soft jazz flowing from the store, and as he breathed, he couldn't help but sniff the air more.

Chocolate chip cookies. And they smelled fresh, too. Pushing open the door to the cafe, he heard a tired "Welcome in!", and he hummed in acknowledgement.

"Hi there." You greeted him kindly, yawning a bit. "Since it's still our first week open, we're punching membership cards twice the normal amount to encourage customers to keep coming back. All you have to do is make a purchase and let me know what you think!"

"Sounds good." Law mumbled, eyes scanning over the menu. "Just a large cold brew and -" his face twisted, already annoyed with himself as he thought about Shachi and Penguin's nagging, "-a quiche, please."

"Well, don't force yourself." You laughed. Law peered at you, just a little bit annoyed. He couldn't help but agree with his friends - if you were the owner, you were pretty. Your laugh was infectious, and despite how tired you seemed, you appeared happy as could be. "What kind of quiche would you like?"

"...The Florentine quiche sounds fine." He sighed. He'd force himself to try the quiche. And if it was shit, Shachi and Penguin would be hearing from him. "I know you have chocolate chip cookies in the display, but I smell some freshly baked. Would you mind if I had the new ones?"

"Not at all." You hummed. "Good to make first impressions for opening week."

"Very blunt of you." Law snorted. "That a good marketing strategy?"

"Honesty is more important than marketing." You shrugged. The register dinged, showing that Law owed fifteen bucks - not a bad price at all for a large drink, a meal, and a sweet treat. You punched a brand new membership card for the man, filling up four out of seven stamps, and handed it to him. "I'll call your name when it's all ready, Mister...?"

"Just call me Law." He replied, nodding. "I'll just go sit down and wait, take your time."

He chose a seat by the corner, two windows on each side of him as his body sank into a plush chair and opened up his laptop on the desk. He blinked, realizing that he didn't know the Wifi password to what he assumed was the cafe's network - 'Sunny Cafe Network :)'.

Just as he was about to get up and ask you for it, he realized there was a small laminated sheet glued to the table, with the Wifi password, separate menus for different times of day, and a little QR code for any feedback.

Law hummed, nestling back into his chair as he typed the WiFi password into his computer. He couldn't help but feel grateful for the effort the owner put into each area - he hated going to new places and asking for things like the Wifi, or god forbid a key to the bathroom.

He tried to do a little bit of work, appreciating the soft music flowing through the cafe. He wondered if your opening day was really busy - and he was a bit shocked that nobody else was here at this hour. After all, this was a university campus filled with sleepless students, though they were probably out drinking and partying anyhow.

"Law?" You called from the counter, pushing a tray out. "Here you go!"

He got up from his seat, meandering to the counter with his hands outstretched to take the tray to his seat. "Wait!" You said, hands in a silly 'X' in front of him. He paused, blinking at you. "You have to let me know how everything is!"

"I will." He said, going to reach for the tray again. You cleared your throat, shifting from foot to foot behind the counter. He sighed. You really were pretty - you looked exhausted and worn out, but nevertheless excited for feedback. He couldn't turn you down. "Fine."

He reached for the cold brew first, turning slightly away from you so he wouldn't have to see your excited face in his periphery. He took a sip. "This... Is really good."

"Really?" You beamed, hands on the counter.

"Yes." He affirmed. "Did you add any syrup? It has notes of like..." He trailed off, taking another sip. "Chocolate? Cherries?"

"No syrup!" You grinned, crossing your arms proudly. "The blend I used for your cold brew was a mix of beans from South America and East Africa! African beans are known for giving off some floral or fruity flavors, while South American beans are known for sort of tasting like chocolate, so I blended the two!"

He hummed, clearly satisfied, before reaching for the quiche and the fork. He grimaced, clearly hesitant to take a bite.

"Do you not like quiche?" You wondered, laughing a bit at his face. "You didn't seem happy to order it either."

"Not really." He frowned, glaring at the pastry like it'd offended him. "But my friends came here earlier, and they said it was really good."

"Shachi and Penguin, right?" You smiled at his shocked face. "Yeah, they came in the afternoon, saying they'd try to get their grumpy friend to come on down. Med student, they said."

He clicked his tongue, taking a piece of quiche onto his fork. "Yeah. That's me."

"Anything you wanna be in particular?" You said, giggling as he kept glaring at the quiche.

"A surgeon." He shoved the quiche in his mouth, as if he felt like it was going to grow legs and run away.

"That'll be hard work." You laughed, watching him chew the pastry like he expected it to be his worst enemy. His face turned into a surprised, pleasant acceptance. "Good?" You asked, chin resting on your hand.

"...Yeah." He stared at the tart. "It's pretty good."

"I'm happy to hear that." You smiled, pushing off the counter to begin wiping down the equipment. "I work the afternoon to morning shift. I hope I'll see you again, Law. Make sure to bring that membership card in for some free stuff!"

"Okay." He blinked, watching you grab a rag and start cleaning. "Do you have LinkedIn?"

You paused, rag dripping with water onto the quartz counter. "Why??"

Law cringed at himself. He was twenty-six and still didn't know how to properly ask for something. "No, I mean like, uh..." He stared at the quiche. That damn quiche. "Somewhere I could find you?"

You grinned, pointing at the poster by the register. "The cafe has an Instagram!"

Law withered. "Right. I'll be sure to follow it, then."

You laughed so hard your side started cramping - it was painfully obvious what he wanted, but it was funny how incredibly bad with words he was. "Hand me your phone, Law."

He stared at you, confused, before realizing you were still waiting. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, unlocked it, and bashfully handed it to you. You clicked around on it, and he just watched you the whole time.

Your hair was a little oily. There was a smudge of espresso remnants on your eyebrow. A strand of your hair was in your face, and you kept crinkling your nose every time the hair came in contact with it.

Jesus, you were pretty. He was never going to admit to Shachi and Penguin that they had, for once, made an accurate and compelling point as to why Law should've come.

"Here you go, Law." You handed his phone back with a sly grin. Pretty barista, you'd saved yourself as. Even taken a selfie for the contact picture too. "I hope I'll see you again."

"I'll be back tomorrow." He promised, watching your features - exhausted yet happy as possible - smiling kindly at him. "I'll try your whole menu."

"Will you now?" You chuckled. "Well, I'm looking forward to it. Looks like I got my own personal taste tester." You pulled out a notebook from under the counter, flipping it open and showing him the wrinkled pages. "Well, good. The menu's still pretty small, and I have a lot of ideas to expand it. I'll never turn down an extra palette."

If he was any less restrained with himself, Law could've been jumping for joy. Maybe it was the night speaking, the long hours getting to both of you, but he'd take any opportunity to help you however he could. He found himself undeniably drawn to you, to your tired demeanor and your willingness to work.

"Can I ask why you chose to open your cafe here?" He inquired, flipping through your recipe book. Blueberry muffins, many different flavors of macarons, brown sugar toffee latte. He couldn't wait to watch you make all of them.

"I went here for my bachelors, actually - for Business Administration. Very boring. But I always complained about how early the places closed! I'd get my coffees from Ms. Robin's place, but-"

"She closes at five." Law added. You blinked at him, but nodded, surprised. "Yeah, I know. I get her drinks too."

"That's too funny." You said, taking the cookbook back from him. "Ms. Robin actually helped me open this place. She's really nice."

"Yeah, well." Law shrugged, biting his cookie and humming contently. "So are you."

"Thanks, Law." You replied, watching him. Your eyes crinkled, trying not to laugh aloud at his slightly sad attempt at complimenting you. "Is it good?"

"I know I'm your taste tester now, but I really don't think that should even be a question." Law huffed, shoving the rest of the cookie in his mouth and speaking with it full. "Yesh, itsh good."

"I'm happy to hear that." You grinned. "Well, I'm going to get back to baking cookies for the morning shift. It was nice to meet you, Law." You took his tray.

"No, the pleasure's all mine." He replied, shaking his head.

"The pleasure can be both of ours, you know?"

Unfortunately, his friends caught on awfully quick. Within a week, it was no secret that Trafalgar Law had a massive crush on the owner of the Sunny Cafe. From midnight to three, all his friends knew - if Law wasn't in his apartment, he was going to be at the cafe down the block.

Ms. Nico Robin, too, was also fully aware of this fact, having come to check in on your business after the end of the week. You joked that Law was single-handedly keeping your business open, before clarifying that you were joking and that business was stellar.

Law had only grumbled at this, suddenly very glued to his textbook and the task of memorizing the brain. You always had a new pastry or drink to give him, and he was always willing to try whatever you had to offer. For someone who was evidently fearful of quiche, he didn't seem to mind eating all your different variations at all.

Sometimes you'd see Law in the afternoon too, at the start of your shift, being dragged to your cafe with his two friends you were already familiar with, and another who he later introduced as his roommate. They'd tease him the whole time they were there, throwing out comments like "Isn't the owner looking cute today?" and, "Aw, look, his face is all red! Law and the owner, sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"

Grown ass men, by the way.

Of course, this would always result in Law leaving abruptly and texting you an apology, to which you would always say you didn't mind and you actually found it rather cute. He always left you on read, but that was mostly because he hadn't a clue how to respond and was honestly embarrassed that you thought someone like him was cute.

Tattooed, dreary, tired Law. Cute?!

When he came alone, he'd always sit in the same seat he'd sat in the first day he came in. Right in the corner of the shop, a small plush seat for one.

Whenever he came in with his friends, he'd be dragged to the closest 4-seater to you - a table nobody else would willingly take because everyone was bustling around the area.

They'd sit there nonetheless, Law tucked into the seat with the least people shoving by him as he glared at Shachi and Penguin, who would wave at you flirtatiously as Bepo stole off his plate.

"I wanted that." He'd say.

"The quiche?!" Bepo gawked at him. Law, quiche?! "I'm sorry."

It became even more normal for him to text you late at night after he came in one particular night and it wasn't you working. Don't get him wrong - the barista named Sanji was perfectly kind and hospitable, but they just weren't you. Plus, he was strangely much kinder to the girl who came in after Law than he was to Law himself.

L: How come you're not in tonight?

Y: I should've known you were going to text me! I had to call out, my cat was still lying on my chest when I wanted to leave.

Law blinked at his screen. Maybe this was the pros of owning your own business, having the ability to call out to love your cat.

L: Can I see?

Y: I just said he was lying on my chest! What're you getting at?

L: Man let me see the cat

He huffed, ears red as he stared at the phone, huddled in the corner of the cafe as Sanji continued to feed free samples to the girl trying to place an order.

Y: [video]

A video of you, taken from around your stomach, with your cat nuzzled into your neck as the rest of him laid on your chest. You were smiling, sticking your tongue out before kissing your cat on the head multiple times, saying "Pretty boy!" over and over.

Law wished he'd been born a cat.

From then on, he'd texted you pretty much every night, checking that you were going to be the one working. Luckily, your cat had only decided to pull that stunt the one time, and Law never had to watch Sanji flirt again.

You never pointed out how casually the two of you would interact from then on, little texts of "craving one of your scones," or "that latte saved my life today, wouldn't have been able to stay awake."

You snagged small, intimate moments with Law here and there, whenever you could, and he gave them to you, as if it was normal to exchange little bits of unseen affection with someone you'd met a week or so ago.

Not that either of you minded.

He'd taste test for free, get free snacks from you late at night if nobody else was in the store, help you behind the counter if you were particularly tired.

You started asking how his exams were going, wondering where he was looking to go for residency, asking about his friends. He found himself sharing every part of his life with you, even the little things. With time, he learned more about your life, your childhood, the friends who dropped in to see you in the cafe.

Months and months passed, and relentless teasing from his friends began to stack. Shachi would poke fun at him, Penguin playfully badgering you for your number as you kept shaking your head, smiling, pointing at the flyer with the cafe's Instagram on it. Bepo would always ask if he'd asked you out yet, to do anything at all, go anywhere.

Law knew he should - but he just didn't know how.

"She likes to read." Nico Robin prompted as you handled other customers, sitting at a table in front of Law with a stack of books herself. "I believe going to a bookshop would be quite a safe option."

"I didn't ask for advice, Miss." Law grumbled halfheartedly. He couldn't ever bring himself to be angry with the other cafe owner, who had treated him so kindly the many years he went to her cafe.

"I know." She hummed, flipping a page and glancing at him. "It seems like you needed it, though. You haven't been to my cafe in months - figures you would be here."

"Sorry for swapping." Law shrugged, glaring at his iPad, internal organs staring back at him. "She's just-"

"Open all day and night." Robin smiled. "No worries. I was just teasing you. Though, if it's been months, one would think you two would've gotten somewhere by now."

Law flushed a gentle shade of pink, tattooed hand running through his hair. He twirled the stylus in his fingers, chewing on his lower lip.

"She doesn't need big actions." Robin said, eyes skimming the page - The Killer Angels, she was reading. "Maybe a craft day - bookmarks?"

Law wished he could say he already had an idea what to do with you - but in truth, he had too many ideas. He didn't know where to start, how to pick just one gesture to win you over. Too many ideas of how to spend time with you, see you, touch you, hold you.

It took a few more days before he decided to just take Nico Robin's advice.

"I remember you mentioning you wanted a new book a while back." Law prompted. It was a Friday - a long day for Law, as he had an eight a.m. class immediately followed by hours of shadowing at the hospital, then working as an EMT until seven p.m. when he finally got time for himself. It was midnight now, and yet he still continued to visit your cafe without flaw. "Would you want to go get it tomorrow? There's a nice bookstore that's also a jazz bar a few blocks from here."

You pulled a fresh batch of cookies out of the oven, sliding one off the hot baking sheet and onto a plate, handing it to Law with a grin. "Are you asking me on a date, Law?"

He flushed again, the only indication of his nervousness. "Yeah. If you'd want to go, I mean." He took the plate from your hands, grazing yours just as they did every day.

"I've wanted to for months." You smiled, leaning over the counter to peck him on the cheek. You smelled like chocolate chip cookies and espresso, hair a little damp from a day's work. "So of course, yes. I'd love to go on a date with you, Law."

When Law went home that night, he found himself unable to sleep. It's not like this was irregular - his sleep schedule was constantly unstable, and he was bordering on becoming nocturnal soon.

But this was different. He couldn't sleep because his heart wouldn't stop pounding in his chest, and he tossed and turned thinking about you. Intertwining your fingers tomorrow, brushing hair out of your face.

He forced himself to take some melatonin, lest he show up to your date groggy and half-alive in the afternoon.

As he started to sleep, he could only hope he'd dream about you.

Reluctantly wearing an outfit Shachi and Penguin had picked out - baggy jeans, a purple sweater that screamed "Casual, but not nonchalant" in Penguin's words, Law tapped his foot nervously as he waited outside the bookstore.

The bustle of the street was drowned out by the thumping of his own heart, and he continued to gnaw on his lip as he waited for you to show up outside the bookstore.

"Hi, Law." You greeted from behind him. He jumped, not expecting you to approach from that direction, and you laughed, looping an arm around his. "You look nice."

He cleared his throat, embarrassed. "Thanks. So do you. I like what you did with your hair."

You squeezed his arm, and he nearly jumped again. "Wow! This sweater is very soft, Law! Where'd you get it?"

He squinted at the sign of the bookstore, trying to ignore how you were basically just squeezing on his bicep. "I knitted it."

Your jaw dropped. "No way! I didn't know you knew how to knit!" You continued running your fingers over the fabric, ooh-ing and aah-ing at the handiwork. "This is really good, Law. Wow."

"Not a big deal." He managed to squeak out, finger shakily pointing at the bookstore. "Do you want to go inside?"

You removed your arm from his, laughing a bit at how he seemed to curl into himself at the loss. You intertwined your fingers with his, watching as he visibly brightened a bit, letting you tug him towards the door.

The bookstore was warmly lit and dark, the owner greeting you kindly from behind the desk. You immediately wandered to the back, Law following you as you set out in search of your favorite genre.

"What're you looking for again?" Law asked, hand warm against yours and not letting up anytime soon.

You peered at him from the corner of your eye, rubbing your thumb against the back of his hand. "I'm seeing what might catch my eye. I've been meaning to buy a book called Pachinko for a while though - it should be in the historical fiction section."

Law hummed, eyes skimming the bookshelves to help you look. "That one? With the light blue spine?" He pointed at the top of the historical fiction shelf, a gently worn book spine glinting back at you.

"Yeah, I think so." You said, squinting at the book. You walked up to the bookcase, up on your tippy toes to try to reach for it. You grunted a bit, arm fully extended as you fumbled for the book.

Warmth enveloped your back as Law pressed against you, a soft "Excuse me" coming from his mouth. He gently pushed your hand downwards, grabbing the book for you with ease and handing it to you. "Is it the right book?"

"Yeah!" You said, reading the author's name. "Thanks, Law. How tall are you? That book was super high up."

Law cleared his throat, thankful for the store being dark enough that you probably couldn't see his face turning red again. Down bad, Shachi had called him. "I'm six foot three."

You whistled, intertwining your fingers again. "Built like a tree."

"This tree helped you reach a book, you know." Law teased, finger playfully pushing against your forehead. "Could be a good thing."

"Didn't say it was a bad thing." You shrugged, tugging him towards the cashier. "You're just my type."

Law's hand tightened around yours, and you laughed a little. You greeted the cashier, reaching for your wallet when she said it was only ten dollars since it was an already used book.

Law beat you to it, tapping his phone against the card reader. The owner smiled at the two of you, wrapping your book for you and handing it back, both of you waving goodbye as you left the store.

"I could've paid for myself, you know." You frowned, bumping shoulders with Law. "Shouldn't you focus on paying for school?"

"I spend at least ten dollars at your cafe every single day." Law replied, shrugging and reaching his free hand out to carry your book for you. "Spending another ten because I want to do something nice for you isn't a big deal."

A small smile graced your face, leaning your head against Law's shoulder. "Okay. If you're sure, then."

"Couldn't be more sure." Law replied, leaning his chin on your head. The two of you stood there, outside the used bookstore, holding each other and watching the city bustle around you. Law smelled like coffee and pine, warm and comforting.

"I'd like to see you again." He prompted, arms tightening a bit around you, burying his face in your hair. He did his best to ignore how your face was very clearly purposefully pressed into his built chest.

"Law, you have a sleeper build!" You laughed, voice muffled from where you were. His heart raced faster, and he was sure you could hear it, because your shoulders still shook with laughter, even as you looked up at him, forcing him to stop leaning on you. "Yes, of course I'd like to see you more too, I had a really good time. Even though I'm sure I'll see you later tonight when I work anyways."

"You will." Law promised, brushing your hair out of your face. He knew you didn't like it when it brushed against your nose, even accidentally. "And I'm glad you enjoyed yourself today."

"Won't you ask me to be your girlfriend?" You teased, pinching his waist and watching him flush.

"I thought it might be too fast." He replied, hands tightening around your arms. "I didn't know if you liked me enough."

"If I didn't like you," You said, hugging him close, "I wouldn't have given you my number the first night we met. You took a while to work up to it, Law."

"Well." Law huffed, looking away. "I thought maybe it was another clever marketing strategy from you."

"Could be a smart move." You hummed, starting to walk away from the bookstore. "Maybe I should start giving my number to every guy that comes in."

"No, maybe not." Law grumbled, grabbing your wrist and looking at you. He ruffled his hair, golden eyes swimming with apprehension, though it was clear he was mulling things over. "I really like you. I enjoy spending time with you, and I want to have you in my life every day."

He paused, eyes skimming over your face, reading your every expression. Your cheeks were flushed with the spring breeze, smiling at him as you watched him talk. "Please do me the pleasure of letting me be your boyfriend."

Your smile grew ever wider, pulling him in tightly for a bear hug. He choked a bit, surprised at the gesture and your strength. He wheezed, gently and awkwardly patting you on the back. "Can't breathe. Can't."

You released him, gesturing for him to lean down. He blinked, but listened to you anyways, leaning towards you. Your arms wrapped around his neck, lips meeting his, smiling as you kissed him.

Law froze for a second, mind blanking, before cupping your face with his free hand and kissing you back. His ears felt hot as he kissed you with desperate fervor, before pulling back, face red as a tomato.

"I'd love to be your girlfriend, Law." You said happily, stealing your book from his hands and checking your phone. "I have to clock in soon, but I'll see you tonight?"

"Uh, yes." Law replied after a beat, blinking at you, still breathing heavily. "Yes. I'll be there."

"Good." You hummed, walking away. "I'll save you your regular seat."

[shotosjupiter]

jupiii, hi hi hi! this is rie, hehe. HOW ARE YOUUU?

OH EM GEEEE HI BBYYYY!!! IM GOOD HRY???? i missed you!!! ive been so demotivated on writing lately that im barely active nowadays 🥀 only to read fics </3

[kashun]

━━━ CONSEQUENCES OF FLIRTING BACK.

𝓲𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 ♰ when you finally decide to flirt back after years of brushing off sukuna’s teasing, he quickly discovers he can’t handle a taste of his own medicine.

✿ ◞◟) ryomen sukuna 𝓍 gn!reader

𝓬𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 fluff, college!au, established friendship, uno reverse card flirting, sukuna is really pathetic, lovestruck behavior, yearning hidden under friendship (?), sukuna is blushing.

the afternoon light coming through sukuna's apartment windows was that tired golden color, the kind that made everything look a little too soft and a little too warm for a tuesday that felt like a thursday.

you were sprawled on the pink haired boy’s worn-out leather couch with your laptop balanced on your thighs, trying to finish a reading assignment that had no business being this dense, while sukuna sat on the floor across from you with his back against the coffee table, his phone in one hand and a half-empty energy drink in the other.

sukuna's tattoos stretched across his forearms every time he moved to scroll through whatever mindless content he seemed to be invested in, those familiar dark lines shifting over muscle and bone like they'd always been there, like they were just another part of him you'd stopped really noticing years ago. the four-eyes motif on his biceps caught the light when sukuna leaned forward to set his drink down, and you watched him crack his neck in that lazy way he always did when he was bored, the movement causing his jaw to flex once before he settled back against the table leg.

"you're staring," sukuna said without looking up from his phone, and there it was — that particular tilt to his mouth, the one that meant he was about to make things annoying on purpose. "didn't know my forearms were that interesting, sweetheart. could've just asked for a closer look."

you didn't even blink.

"your forearms are fine, kuna. i was actually staring at the window behind you because there's a really weird-looking bird right on the fire escape."

sukuna finally looked up, one dark eyebrow raised, and he turned his head toward the window just to check. when he saw nothing there, his gaze slid back to you with that familiar mixture of amusement and mild offense.

"you're lying."

"oh, am i?" you clicked back to your reading assignment, highlighting a sentence you'd already highlighted twice. "bird must've flown away. tragic timing, really."

sukuna laughed once, short and sharp, and went back to his phone, but you knew damn well he wasn't done; sukuna was never done when he was bored and you were the only person in the room. it was like a game for him, or maybe like a compulsion — throwing out these little flirtatious comments just to see if he could get a reaction, any reaction, even though he'd known you for long enough to understand that you'd stopped reacting to that particular brand of nonsense somewhere around year two of your friendship.

"you know," he said after a moment, dragging the words out like he was savoring them. "most people would at least pretend to be flattered. but you just sit there like a brick wall with a laptop. it's kind of insulting, honestly."

"i'll try to care about your feelings more," you said flatly, not looking up. "let me just find that emotion real quick."

sukuna kicked at your foot with his own, just a light tap of his sneaker against your socked heel.

"you're the worst."

"you're the one who keeps flirting with a brick wall. that sounds like a you problem."

sukuna grinned at that, wide and sharp and entirely unbothered, because this was simply how things worked between the two of you; he'd flirt, you'd deflect, he'd laugh, and then five minutes later he'd ask if you wanted to order food or complain about his stats professor or show you some ridiculous video he found at two in the morning.

it was comfortable, it was routine, and it meant exactly nothing, and you both knew it.

but today, something about the light and the quiet and the way sukuna was sitting there looking entirely too pleased with himself made you feel like switching things up.

just a little.

just to see what would happen.

you set your laptop aside slowly, making a show of closing the screen and placing it on the cushion next to you, and then you turned your body toward him.

sukuna was already watching you with that lazy curiosity he always got when you deviated from your usual patterns, his phone completely forgotten in his hand, and you let your gaze drag over him in a way you never actually did — leisurely and meticulous, like you were taking your time with something you'd been saving for later.

his eyebrows pulled together just slightly. "what?"

"nothing," you said, and you let your voice drop just enough to change the texture of it, to make it softer and slower than your usual flat delivery. "just looking."

you watched the confusion flicker across sukuna's face, quick and genuine, because this wasn't how the script went;

you weren't supposed to look at him like that. you weren't supposed to sound like that. and you sure as hell weren't supposed to slide off the couch to sit on the floor next to him, close enough that your shoulder almost brushed his, close enough that you could smell whatever cheap cologne he'd grabbed off his dresser this morning.

sukuna's hand tightened around his phone.

"okay. you're being weird."

"am i?" you echoed your earlier words back at him, tilting your head just slightly, and you let your fingers rest on the floor between you — not touching him, not yet, but close enough that the proximity felt intentional. "i thought this was what you wanted, kuna. you're always saying all that stuff. figured i'd finally give you a response."

sukuna's throat moved as he swallowed, and you could see the moment his brain started scrambling to catch up with what was happening. the confidence he normally wore like armor seemed to flicker, just for a second, and his gaze dropped to your hand on the floor before snapping back to your face.

"that's—" he started, and then stopped, and you'd never seen sukuna stumble over a word in your entire friendship. "i mean, yeah, but—you don't actually—"

"don't actually what?"

you leaned in just a little, and you watched the tips of sukuna's ears go pink. his ears, of all things. the same sukuna who could make a waiter uncomfortable by accident just by existing was sitting here with pink ears because you'd leaned about four inches closer to him.

"don't actually find you attractive? because i never said that."

sukuna's mouth opened, then closed, and then opened again, and absolutely nothing came out except this small, strangled sound that might have been the beginning of a laugh or the end of his dignity.

you could feel the heat coming off his arm where it was braced on the coffee table, you could see the way his chest had started rising and falling just a little faster than before. his tattoos seemed to move with every small shift of his muscles, the dark lines pulling and relaxing as he failed spectacularly to figure out what the hell to do with his hands.

"you're messing with me," sukuna said finally, and his voice literally cracked on the last word.

ryomen sukuna's voice cracked like he was fourteen years old and talking to his first crush, and you had to physically bite the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling too obviously.

"am i?" you asked again, softer this time, and you let your finger trace a small, idle pattern on the floor between you; not toward him, not away from him — just there, like you were thinking about it. "i don't know. maybe i just got tired of you being the only one who gets to have fun."

sukuna's blush was spreading now, crawling down his neck in splotchy patches that disappeared beneath the collar of his shirt, and he was gripping his phone like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.

you could see his pulse beating in his throat, quick and uneven, and his eyes kept darting between your face and the small space between your bodies like he was trying to calculate something he didn't have the formula for.

"this isn't—" sukuna started, and then he had to stop to clear his throat, and the sound was embarrassingly loud in the quiet apartment. "this isn't funny."

"i'm not laughing."

"you're definitely laughing on the inside. i can tell. your eye is doing that thing."

you blinked innocently. "what thing?"

"the thing where you're being an asshole and enjoying it."

but sukuna's voice was way too high to land the way he wanted it to, too breathy to sound like anything other than a man who was rapidly losing control of a situation he'd assumed he'd always be in charge of. his leg was bouncing now, that restless energy he got when he was nervous translating into small, jerky movements that he probably didn't even realize he was making.

you let the silence stretch, you let him sit in the discomfort of not knowing what came next, and you watched as he absolutely failed to fill it with one of his usual easy quips.

sukuna's brain was working overtime behind his eyes, you could easily tell — trying to figure out if you were serious, if this was a joke, if he was supposed to laugh it off or lean into it or run in the opposite direction.

finally, he did the last thing you expected.

he looked away.

sukuna actually looked away, his jaw tightening as he turned his face toward the window, and you could see the way his hand shook just slightly when he reached up to rub at the back of his neck. the movement made his sleeve ride up, exposing more of those dark lines, and you noticed the way his fingers trembled against his own skin.

"you're doing this on purpose," he muttered, and his voice was so quiet you almost didn't hear it. "you're trying to—i don't know what you're trying to do, but you're doing it on purpose."

"maybe," you said, and you let yourself smile then, just a small one, because he looked so genuinely thrown off that it was actually kind of endearing underneath all the hilarity. "maybe i just wanted to see what would happen."

sukuna turned back to look at you, and his eyes were wide in a way you'd never seen before — less of the sharp, amused glint he usually carried and more of something raw and uncertain, like a door you'd accidentally nudged open that he'd been keeping firmly closed. his blush had settled into something deeper now, staining his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose, and his lips were parted just slightly like he was still trying to figure out how to breathe normally.

"well," he said, and his voice cracked again, softer this time, almost fragile. "are you happy? because i'm—i'm not—this is—"

sukuna gave up on words entirely and just gestured vaguely at himself, at his flushed face and his bouncing leg and his white-knuckled grip on his phone, and the gesture said everything sukuna's his voice couldn't.

you laughed then, not meanly, just a warm exhale of a sound, and you bumped your shoulder against his gently.

"yeah," you said, your voice back to normal now, dropping the flirtatious edge entirely. "i'm pretty happy, actually."

sukuna stared at you for a long moment, his chest still rising and falling too quickly, and then he dropped his head back against the coffee table and made a sound that was somewhere between a groan and a whine.

"i hate you," he said to the ceiling. "i genuinely hate you. you're the worst person i've ever met."

"you're blushing."

"shut up, i'm not blushing. my face is just warm. from the—it's warm in here."

"it's twenty-one degrees in here."

"shut up."

sukuna didn't move his head from the coffee table, but his large hand found your knee — just a brief, clumsy tap before retreating, like he'd meant to do something else and changed his mind at the last second. his fingers were warm through the fabric of your jeans, and you could still feel the slight tremor in them even after he pulled away.

you sat there together in the golden afternoon light, the silence softer now than it had been before, and you watched as sukuna slowly, painfully tried to collect himself.

his ears were still pink, his breathing was still uneven, and every few seconds, his gaze would slide toward you and then snap away again, like looking at you for too long might somehow make things worse.

it was, without a single question, the most pathetic you had ever seen him.

"sooo," you said after a while, keeping your voice light and easy. "you want to order that thai place, or are you too busy being embarrassed to eat?"

sukuna lifted his head just enough to glare at you, but the effect was ruined by the fact that he still looked like he'd just run a marathon in a sauna.

"i'm not embarrassed."

"okay."

"i'm not. i just wasn't expecting—" sukuna stopped, swallowed, tried again. "you don't just—you never—"

"never what?"

he held your gaze for a long, charged moment, and something in his expression flickered — some thought you couldn't quite read, some emotion the pink haired boy shoved back down before it could fully surface. then he looked away once again, reaching for his abandoned energy drink like it might offer him some kind of salvation.

"nothing," he said quietly. "forget it. thai sounds fine."

sukuna didn't flirt with you for the rest of the evening.

not once.

and if you caught him staring at you when he thought you weren't looking, his expression soft and confused and a little bit scared like he'd just discovered something he didn't know how to name — well, you didn't mention that either.

some things were better left for another tuesday.

masterlist.