“when the moon dared to touch the flame, the world burned and bloomed all at once.”
series by jasmmwriting
madara uchiha x hyūga!reader
genre ✧˖° slow burn • arranged marriage • angst • healing • historical
status ✧˖° finished
𓂃 summary 𓂃
In the dawn of konoha, peace is fragile and built on blood. to seal an alliance between the hyūga and uchiha clans, y/n hyūga, the heir and head of konoha’s medical division, is forced into an arranged marriage with madara uchiha, the man whose clan murdered her mother. bound by duty, they live as strangers in the same home: the healer and the warrior, the moon and the flame. but love, like fire, does not stay still for long.
𓂃 chapters 𓂃
✦ chapter i (10/11/25)
✦ chapter ii (10/11/25)
✦ chapter iii (10/11/25)
✦ chapter iv (12/11/25)
✦ chapter v (14/11/25)
✦ chapter vi (16/11/25)
✦ chapter vii (18/11/25)
✦ chapter viii (22/11/25)
✦ chapter ix (26/11/25)
✦ chapter x (05/12/25)
✦ chapter xi (27/12/25)
✦ chapter xii (31/12/25)
✦ chapter xiii (20/01/25)
✦ epilogue
𓂃 extras 𓂃
✦ the moon and the flame: playlist
✦ visuals / inspo board
𓂃 notes 𓂃
This story is close to my heart, i started it after coming back to writing, and it carries a piece of that warm and nostalgia of the girl I used to be. Thank you for reading, sharing, or simply stopping by ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡)
I have a request please :)!! (also I love your writing hehe) How would Vergil be with someone who is very forward and open with their emotions/how they feel. Since we all know he's emotionally constipated and skirts around saying directly how he feels, what if he was with someone who is the COMPLETE opposite? Completely comfortable with being expressive and honest with themselves.
Also I hope you have a nice day :D!! Thank you!
hi hello!!! i did this in the form of HCs, (the wc in my google doc was close to 2k tho so erm... oupsi!) i hope thats okay! if not lmk and i can whip something else up for you!
warnings: mentions of sex at the end but nothing graphic, general tomfoolery and shenanigans, my dumbahh writing, you chase dante around with a slipper, hmm mentions of being hospitalized but nothing graphic again, overall fluff and attempts at humor, english isnt my first language (i forget to tag it sometimes mb chat)
Before you two got together, you did most of the flirting, you have to accept that fact, especially if it was right after he and Dante returned from the underworld. Don't expect him to warm up to you quickly though! It takes TIME to even get him to admit he Wants you™
So you're gonna have to be patient with him, in general
Like patience of a saint
Cause during the early stages of being with him, it’s as if you take one step forward and he takes one back
But he's trying, okay?
I feel like the more time you spent together, the easier it would be for him to be vulnerable with you, and get more out of his shell, especially if you've proven to him he can fully trust you
He would use poems to describe his feelings for you better!
Because, you know, it's easier to use someone else's words about things such as love, than come up with good descriptions of what you're feeling
One of his observations on the human experience being that feelings are weird, man
Once you two are well established though? This cornball is leaving you envelopes (sprayed with the perfume you got him as a gift) with neatly written poems he composed himself
Do not bring the up to him though, he will get flustered and grumpy about it (he secretly loves that you loved them) (so do bring them up)
He's THE slowburn-maxxer
It probably took him weeks, if not months, to even admit to himself that he had feelings for you
Meanwhile there you were, flirting with him every chance you had
Made him feel … odd
(he loved being shamelessly flirted with)
But if you keep it up at some point he would break, not in the coercion way, but more so in the ‘okay… I guess… I may or may not… reciprocate these… feelings of yours’
He's so grumbly but you find it cute
Because you've seen him cut down hordes of demons without breaking a sweat, but he gets so shy whenever you call him handsome
Compared to you, he spent a good chunk of his life under control or in the endless pursuit of power, so he's a master at bottling his feelings up and pretending they don't exist
If you did something that upset him, like throw yourself in front of someone to protect them from a devil, with no care about your own well being, he wouldn't know how to express the worry and fear he has of losing you, he'd probably either never let you leave his sight or drag you out to train you himself, that'd give him some peace of mind, just go along with it twin, he doesn't know how to properly speak of how sick with worry he felt when he saw you in the hospital bed after the doctors had called your emergency contact (him!) after the person you saved brought you there
He 100% had flashbacks to his childhood
All he could do as you lied there unconscious, was manage to hold your hand, too disheveled to even think about reading to calm down, all he kept repeating to himself was how you were safe now and how he would never allow this to happen ever again
When I tell yall he was spiralling, I MEAN it
Even Dante had gotten worried about him, never having witnessed his brother so all over the place, stress radiating off of him in waves
When you wake up, be ready for a two hour lecture on this. ‘How could you be so careless?’
You lowkey break down crying because why are you being mean to me right now 🙁
He is befuddled
‘I apologize… I am only worried about your well being’
Aweee grab him for a little kiss and reassure him you're going to be okay, it was just a stab wound, no biggie
Cue him lecturing you all over again about minimizing your injuries ‘you are a frail human, how can you say that???’
You try to adjust yourself to a sitting position, resulting with pain washing over you, so he helps you adjust instead, and you bring him in for a hug and another kiss
‘See, I'm alive, you're stuck with me, I promised you, and when have I ever broken a promise?’
He is actively holding back tears, mind you. Not the time for your jokes, but it does ease his worrying a little
You often tell him you love him, you can see he needs to hear this regularly, and you obviously don't mind repeating it to him until it gets through his thick skull of his
He doesn't say it back often, but you know from his actions that he does love you, too and that it's just all so foreign to him, but it's okay! You're patient and understanding!
If you do need to hear it more often too though, and you communicate that to him, he will try his absolute hardest to be better about this!
He's still adjusting to the fact that he has human emotions too (because he went so many years denying himself anything that was irrelevant to his goals to get more powerful) so it’s baby steps
When he sees you overly excited and expressing it with your body language its like he falls in love all over again
He once gifted you a necklace with his initial on it and seeing you parade it around on your neck like a proud peacock did Things™ to him
Like I need you guys to truly understand that he isn't as cold and emotionless as he portrays himself to be, this guy is a repressed nerd. He reads poetry for fucks sake!
If you ask him to recommend you some of his favorite books because you'd like to have more things to talk about with him, oh boy prepare yourself
He'd be so pleased with himself
One of my HCs is that doppelganger has a consciousness of his own, or to put it better is the parts of Vergil that he tries to supress/underplay manifested
Doppelganger suddenly appearing in front of you and trying to get you to (safely) cuddle him on the couch
Vergil gets jealous
You die laughing when you catch him pouting (or, Vergil's equivalent of it), ‘Vergil he is YOU, I love YOU???’
You get on his lap and kiss him all over the face to get him to stop pouting about it
He's grumbling, arms crossed and all, but don't you dare stop!
If Dante catches you doing this he will 100% tease you both about it, much to Vergil's dismay
He isn't one for PDA, but he loves how you never hesitate to hold his hand when you're out together
Unrelated but one time he finds you sobbing in front of the tTV you have in your room, controller balanced on your thigh, head in your hands
He rushes to your side, concerned someone harmed you, he obviously questions you about it
When you tell him you're crying because the main character of the game you were playing through died he gets whiplash
Like what. Why are you hyperventilating and crying so hard he's sure you're close to dehydration from ??? a fictional character's death???? Foolishness. (he doesnt say that out loud, not wanting to hurt your feelings further)
He manages to calm you down enough for you to explain The Lore™, only for you to start crying again because that was your baby why did they have to die 🙁
He understands better but is still kind of confused
You tell him how you've been by this characters side for so many hours now, protecting them, having so much fun playing as them, getting to know them and all, so its heartwrenching
So he thinks it's something akin to when a character from one of the novels he has read dies, but this is more personal somehow because they have a face and all
After you've calmed down again you joke about how ‘never in all your years of life have you seen someone this distraught over a video game character dying, huh?’
You're kinda proud of yourself for being the first person that ever got to bamboozle him like this
He doesn't judge you about it though
Make him play this game, DO IT.
(Side tangent but another one of my HCs is that if he got into gaming he would be a fucking sweat, 100% trophies on every game he's played, played at the hardest difficulties offered)
One other time, he was just done with his night routine, so he went to your shared room where you had been in for a few hours by now
He found you folded in on yourself on the bed, wheezing, honestly almost cry-laughing
??? ‘what is it now, my love’
You show him the tiktok that had sent you into orbit, quite frankly, which okay, even he could admit it was funny, but THIS funny?? Man, he thought you were dying????
In general I feel like he has learned to recognize that you expressing your emotions is a form of power in itself, because you never hesitated to put people into place when they wronged you
Like the time Dante had hid in order to jumpscare you, making you scream loud enough to make Vergil rush into the room, yamato in hand, ready to take care of the threat
Only to find you chasing his twin around, a slipper in hand to whack him with it (repeatedly) for scaring you like this
He admits he found that very amusing
(he may, or may not, have gotten a boner for seeing you defend yourself against his brother like this)
(but shhh you didn't hear that from me)
He also appreciated when you were vocal about things in bed, for example if he did something you didn't enjoy during sex
Like ‘thanks for the feedback!’ *proceeds to fuck your brains out in the way you DO! like)
When he has a bad week mentally, he especially appreciates how you ask if he needs some space/alone time or if he needs reassurance
He wouldn't outright say that he needs reassurance though, so you better get to it if he tells you he wouldn't mind your company
Make him lay his head on your lap and play with his hair and he swears he is cured
Omg the Uncle Dante fic is so sweet and made me think up something amazing!
What about in that same AU. Single Dad!Vergil and Single Mum! Reader with a daughter who bond and end up falling in love cause their kids are best friends (maybe same school?)
I just think it could be so tough rottingly sweet
A/N: AHHHHH ANON, yes! I'd be glad and willing to write this! This idea is so sweet, I'm gonna get a cavity lolol. I'm depicting Nero here being 5-6 years old! I hope you'll like this as much as the Dante fic, and thank you for the request! 💗💗💗 I'm also probably gonna make this a one-shot series hehe 🤭
Warnings: none! Aside from maybe a bit of swearing, but not much! Fluffy and sweet as fuck though :]
"Sweetie, Nero's here! Come on downstairs!"
You called out to your daughter, who was upstairs getting ready for her play date with her newly made friend from school. It was a lazy Saturday, with you having nothing much to do, and she had begged you to call Nero's parent—Vergil, if you remembered correctly—for a play date today.
"I'm coming, mommy!"
She called out to you as you let your guests in. Nero politely waved with a smile, while Vergil gave you a curt nod. You've met him once or twice during PTA meetings, and you found him... interesting, to say the least. A lot of the moms ogled him during those meetings, and you couldn't really deny that he did look good.
"Could I get you guys anything? Water? Apple juice?" "Water is fine." "Okay, what about you, Nero?" "Oh-! Apple juice is okay, Miss."
You smiled at how polite Nero was, getting two glasses and pouring their drinks before your daughter came rushing down, squealing excitedly when she saw her friend.
"Can we go to the park? Pretty please, mommy? Nero and I would love to play in the park!"
Your daughter pleaded, Nero nodding along as they looked up at you. Chuckling at their adorable antics, you nodded, Vergil not saying much as the four of you got ready for the park.
When you got there, the sun was shining brightly and it was hot out. You put sunscreen on your daughter and Nero, the two of them not complaining much before running off towards the sandbox with their toys, leaving Vergil and you not too far away on a bench under the shade.
"So.. I've, uh, noticed that you're the one who's always going to those parent-teacher meetings. Does your wife–" "I don't have a wife." "O–oh."
You were gagged at his blunt admission, face flushing slightly at your own assumption of him having a wife before he spoke up on his own.
"I have been taking care of Nero on my own since he was two. His mother left him under my care. My brother—Dante—helps me with him sometimes, but he has been a good kid overall."
His face softened a smidge while talking about his son. It was a strange sight if you were being honest with yourself. His expressions were usually a frown or a cold, stoic guise.
After an hour or two, Nero and your daughter got bored with the park. You decided to go out for lunch at a nearby cafe, ordering some food for the kids. When you were about to reach for your wallet, Vergil stopped you, paying for everything instead.
"You didn't have to do that–" "It's fine. I do not mind it, after all, you're the mother of my son's friend."
While the kids ate their sandwiches, you and Vergil got caught up in a small conversation again. It was about you and why you were raising your daughter alone. It wasn't really a sore topic for you since it's been a couple of years since your husband left.
"So, I've noticed the lack of a fraternal figure." "Oh- uh, yeah.. my husband left me a few years ago when she was a baby. I've been dealing with it, and we've been managing so far.. she's been a lovely daughter, and she knows her mama loves her very much."
You smiled at your daughter, wiping off a bit of the Nutella on the corner of her lip as Vergil slightly frowned at the news of your husband leaving you to take care of your daughter all by yourself.
"Incompetent prick.." "What?" "Oh, nothing. So, you have been single for the past.. few years now?"
When that question left his mouth, you almost choked on the cream cheese bagel you were eating, causing your daughter to hand you her juice.
"Mommy, are you okay?" "Oh, yes- I'm sorry, baby, mommy just got caught off guard by Mr. Sparda's question." "Please, call me Vergil. We've met each other enough times for you not to need to call me with such honorifics."
Calming down from your initial surprise, you decided to answer his question, clearing your throat while running your fingers through your hair.
"I, uh.. yeah, I've been single for quite some time now. Why?" "Nothing, just mere curiosity on my end."
A few days after the play date between your daughter and Nero, you kept in contact with Vergil, sometimes offering to help with his son.
Another play date was planned a few weeks later, and your daughter begged you for Nero to stay over for the night for a sleepover.
"Mommy, please?" "I'm not sure, baby... if Nero wants to and his Dad lets him, then maybe."
It was already late when Vergil came to pick Nero up. It surprised you that he was bruised and.. was that a cut on his arm?
You immediately let him in, concerned as to what had happened. The kids were upstairs in your daughter's room, where she was showing Nero her rock collection. Vergil groaned slightly from his injury but sat down when you led him to your couch.
"What happened?" "A mishap at work.. it's nothing for you to worry about." "Well, you're clearly beat up– what job makes you this bruised and injured-?"
Questioning him, you got your first aid kit from one of your kitchen cabinets. He stayed quiet for a while, making you worry that he passed out, but he was still conscious, his katana close to his side as he held his injured arm.
Vergil didn't say anything as you sat close to him, inspecting his cut and wincing from how deep the gash was.
"That's gonna need stitches, you know?" "It'll heal." "Will you let me at least patch it up..? I kind of don't want you bleeding out on my couch.." "If you have to."
He let out a soft grunt, but his expression didn't show any discomfort as you started to stitch up his wound after disinfecting it. Your movements were careful and gentle, Vergil, unfamiliar with the feeling of being taken care of, frowned, which caused you to stop mid-stitch.
"Does it hurt–?" "No. Continue."
Once you finished patching him up, you threw away the bloodied-up bandages and crossed your arms, clearly wanting an explanation from the man in front of you. Vergil knew it too, which caused him to sigh.
"I'm a demon-hunter. I'm sure you've heard of the shop Devil May Cry around here.." "Oh. So– so you hunt demons?" "Precisely. I know it's.. uncommon, but we do it for the safety of civilians or when we're requested to."
He explained, and you listened. Vergil was a complex man, but that intrigued you. It made you more curious about him, and you couldn't help but feel drawn to him and his personal life.
It made you wonder what he was like as a person, under his stoic expression and cold exterior. What type of man he was, deeper than just a father of one and a demon hunter.
You wanted to know what made him tick, what he liked—
Snapping out of it, you shook your head mentally, smiling after a short while. You called out for your daughter and Nero, but there was no answer, which made you frown.
"Baby? You guys okay here– oh.."
The view in front of you made your heart melt a bit. Nero and your daughter were fast asleep inside the fort you made for them earlier that day. You didn't have the heart to wake them up, so you went downstairs to see how Vergil was holding up and explain the situation to him.
"They're fast asleep.. and I don't think you're in good shape to leave, so how about you stay for the night..?" "I don't think it's proper of me to—" "Please, don't try to decline my offer, Vergil, I really don't mind."
He sighed, looking into your eyes as if to read if there was any hint of hesitation in them before reluctantly agreeing to stay.
You had the guest bedroom ready while Vergil decided to look around your home. He found it... fitting, for someone like you and your child. A lot of photos of you, your daughter and your ex-husband.
He frowned at the sight of him, but the expression diminished as soon as it came. He just thought it was rather unsuitable for the pictures of your ex to be littering your home after leaving you.
Other than that, the home was—as all homes could be—cozy. The atmosphere was warm. Toys and trinkets decorated the space, along with the magnets on the fridge in your kitchen. He saw the drawings of your daughter pinned on the fridge, an amused huff leaving his lips when he saw a drawing of him and you holding hands with the words "Mommy and Mr Vergel" written on top.
A small clear of your throat cut through the air, bringing Vergil's attention to you. You had some clothes in your hand, which made him raise an eyebrow, puzzled.
"I'd rather not have you sleep in.. that." "My coat?" "Yes. I'm sure it's uncomfortable, and it's covered in blood. You can wear these clothes in the meantime—" "Are they your husband's?"
He cut you off before you could finish, making you sigh and shake your head.
"No, these are– these are mine. I used to wear oversized clothing while I was pregnant.. I didn't keep any of my husband's clothes after our divorce." "Ah.. apologies, I didn't mean to.. jump, to conclusions."
He took the clothes from you as you led him to his room and pointed to where the bathroom was. When you were about to head to your bedroom, Vergil caught your wrist, stopping you in your tracks, and turning around to face him.
"I.. I would like to thank you. For your hospitality. You didn't have to go through all this trouble."
He looked at you with an expression you'd never seen on his face before. It was earnest. Vulnerable. As if Vergil was letting his guard down for once. A small smile graced your lips, eyes softening before murmuring gently.
"I wanted to. My daughter enjoys your and your son's company, and if I'm being honest? I do, too." "...You do?" "Well– I– yes, of course I do! You've been kind and patient with me and my daughter, I'm kind of surprised.." "How so?"
He questioned, his hand still gently holding your wrist. Lingering, not daring to let go for some reason. You noticed but didn't pull away. You didn't want to. The touch was warm, and the contrast between his calloused palm and your soft skin was evident.
The question hung in the air for a while, your brain not being able to focus on anything but the feeling of his hand enveloping your wrist. Once you realized, you cleared your throat, letting out an awkward chuckle.
"Oh, er, well– my first impression of you was quite different from how I see you now..." "Hm? And what would that first impression be?" "Well, you seemed.. I don't know—cold. I guess. The permanent scowl on your face, the way you'd brush the other moms off when they tried talking to you. You just seemed really..." "Unapproachable and uncaring?" "Yes—but! I don't think that anymore."
You were a little out of breath, feeling compelled to explain yourself to Vergil. Somehow, it struck something inside the man in front of you, a feeling buried so deep in him that he thought he'd never feel it again.
A soft 'ah' left his lips, letting go of your wrist, which made you panic inside.
"I didn't mean to offend you in any way, I'm sorry—" "Would you like to go out for coffee with me?"
The two of you said at the same time, but his words dazed you more than you'd like to admit.
"Wait— come again?" "I asked if you would like to go out for coffee with me." "Like– like alone? Without the kids?" "...yes? If that is okay with you." "You're asking me out? On a date?" "If that's what you want, then yes, I am asking you out on a date."
Dumbfounded was the word that would describe what you were feeling the most. Surprise, sure, but you were mostly dumbfounded. Vergil Sparda—the cold, stoic, seemingly asshole-ish man you knew—was asking you out. You.
A smidge of a frown painted Vergil's features when you looked at him as if he said something outlandish. Recovering from the shock, you shook your head, taking a small breath in.
"I– I would like that, yes, sorry, I'm just- I'm just a bit taken aback by your question." "I asking you out is.. baffling?" "No, but—kind of? I don't know, it's been a while since I went out on a date."
You felt insecure, wrapping your arms around your torso and glancing away from him. It was Vergil's turn to shake his head, placing the clothes you gave him on a nearby console table before gently reaching out to your shoulder with his uninjured arm.
"We can take this as slowly as you want. I'm one to be patient, and I will gladly wait if it means courting you."
His voice was unbelievably soft, trying to coax you out of your thoughts, and it was working. The way he put his words made you snort, earning a confused hum from him.
"No, nothing, it's just—you sound really old. Nobody uses 'courting' anymore.." "Ah, well, I am quite old-fashioned—or whatever my brother drivels about."
Vergil grumbles, rolling his eyes, which causes you to let out a gentle laugh, the thoughts of uncertainty dissipating.
With that, you decided to take his offer, going out for coffee with him at a nearby cafe, near your office job, a few days later.
You ordered your usual drink, along with a pastry on the side. Vergil ordered oolong tea before paying for everything, and you sat down at a table by the window.
It was quiet for a bit; the atmosphere was kind of awkward, as you were used to having your kids around when you spent time together. You took a sip of your drink before Vergil decided to break the silence with a small clearing of his throat.
God, the two of you didn't know what to talk about. Your daughter was usually the chatterbox, asking the randomest of questions and making the atmosphere light.
"I take that you don't do this type of thing often?" "Huh— oh, uhm, no.. is it that obvious?"
Chuckling awkwardly, you looked at your beverage before glancing back at him, a small reassuring smile found on Vergil's features. Seeing him smile was a rarity, but you wouldn't mind if it were directed at you more often.
"If it eases your worries and doubts... I, myself, am not accustomed to dating either." "Ah.. so, you haven't dated anyone since Nero's mom..?"
You decided to ask, and he nodded as an answer. You weren't a fan of silence, so it was you who decided to break it this time.
"What do you like doing in your free time-? Like, outside of demon-hunting."
A short hum left Vergil's lips at your question, contemplating how to answer you. He took a sip of his tea and placed the cup down on the table before speaking up.
"I usually meditate or hone my swordsmanship, but.. I've been taking up reading and playing the violin more often these days. Of course, when I'm not busy taking care of my son."
He talked about himself for a change, and it was... really refreshing. You got to know him, learning the things he liked, and saw him in a different light. He wasn't just Vergil, Nero's dad anymore. He was Vergil, a man you could see yourself with.
After the initial rocky start of the date, the two of you managed to build up from your conversation, talking about what you liked doing with your free time and getting to know each other a lot more than just being the parents of your children's friends.
The date ended with both of you picking up your daughter and Nero together, the two children curious as to why their parents were so close.
"Dad, is she going to be my new mom?" "Mommy, is he going to be my new dad?"
Both of them asked in unison, your daughter was ecstatic, while Nero showed it a bit more subtly. Your face flushed at their question while Vergil let out a small cough, his ears tinting a soft pink hue that'd be unnoticeable to anyone passing by.
But not to you.
Distracting the kids with popsicles on the way home (your brilliant idea, which Vergil seemed to let slide), Vergil walked you back to your place in a comfortable silence.
You thanked him with a small peck on the cheek, to which he reacted with a reserved hum. Yet it was evident in his gaze that there was a softness to it than his usual glower.
It was rather odd, yet pleasing in a way, to go out with Vergil for dinner. It had been about three months since you started dating, mostly taking it slow, and not wanting to rush into things. Your kids have gotten used to the new relationship budding between you and Vergil, and you couldn't have been any more happy with the outcome.
Your daughter was in the hands of Nero's uncle, Dante. You trusted Vergil enough to entrust your child to his brother, even if your first impression of the man a month ago was... colourful, to say the least.
Getting wined and dined by Vergil was the best time you've been wine and dined in a long time since your divorce. Soft laughter filled the air. The restaurant he picked out was fancy, but not fancy enough to make you feel uncomfortable, and everything was perfect.
By the time you got home, you were pulling him in, shoes taken off, coat tossed by the door, and the rest was history.
You only realized you'd fallen asleep when you felt Vergil playing with your hair, his body close to yours under the messy sheets of your bed.
"Shhh.. did I wake you?" "What time is it?" "Just about after midnight. Do you want any water?"
Shaking your head at his question, you snuggled closer to his body and sighed peacefully. This was a thing you could get used to. Having someone close in bed, someone who could have your back.. you craved it.
"Vergil..?" "Mmm?" "I think I'm... I'm falling in love with you."
Annnnd, that's a wrap everyone! I hope you liked it, and as always likes & reblogs are always appreciated! ˙⋆✮
𐙚 : You were spread out on the cool sheets, belly down, breath fogging faintly against the pillow as the world beyond the windows flickered with the dull glow of a dying sunset. The faint clang of Yamato returning to its sheath echoed behind you—a final metallic shhnk that always made your thighs instinctively tighten.
Vergil was silent.
Not cold—focused. The room vibrated with the dense, anticipatory stillness he carried like a second skin. You felt the mattress dip as he climbed over you, fully clothed still, the sharp black lines of his coat brushing against the backs of your thighs, his presence molten against your bare flesh.
He shifted above you, one knee pressed between your legs to part them further, and you felt it—that unmistakable weight, long and rigid and lacquered in ceremonial darkness—Yamato.
He placed it across you, across the swell of your ass, letting the smooth lacquered sheath settle against your skin like a divine warning. Balanced perfectly. Not a tremble.
“Don’t move,” Vergil murmured, voice low, almost too calm. His gloved hand slid down your spine, fingers parting the curve of your ass as his cock nudged against your folds, hard and flushed and impossibly precise.
You exhaled hard, muscles tensing.
“If that blade falls,” he said, lips brushing your ear, “you’ll be punished.”
Your breath caught.
Then he pushed in—slow, unrelenting, the stretch making your back arch involuntarily, your body trying to take him deeper despite the warning.
The sword shifted slightly against your ass.
You froze.
Fuck.
“Easy,” he growled. “Control yourself.”
He slid deeper still, hands gripping your waist firmly, steadying you like you were a weapon he’d mastered—but could still break. The way he filled you from behind was lethal, thick and deliberate, every slow drag of his cock inside your cunt making your breath quake and your thighs twitch.
And Yamato didn’t move.
He began thrusting. Deep, rhythmic, slow enough to make you whimper against the pillow. His cock dragged against your walls, stroking spots inside you that left your eyes fluttering, your mouth open and mute as your body tried to melt into the bed.
But you couldn’t. Not with that fucking sword resting like a holy relic over your ass. Every motion made it threaten to slip. Every spasm of pleasure was dangerous.
Vergil leaned forward, one hand slipping beneath you to palm your breast, squeezing until your nipple peaked hard against his glove. The other hand gripped your hip, anchoring you while his cock drilled into you with that steady, merciless cadence.
“You’re shaking,” he whispered. “Already?”
“Vergil—” you gasped, legs trembling. “If I cum, I can’t—I’ll drop it—”
“Then don’t cum yet,” he said flatly.
You choked on a sob, your body at war with itself, aching for release while trying to obey. Your cunt clenched around him, betraying your mind.
He snarled. “Disobedient.”
The next thrust was brutal—deeper, harder. He ground his hips against your ass, making Yamato press firmer into your skin like a cold warning. Your breath turned to broken gasps, eyes wet, fingers clawing at the sheets.
“I should mark you,” he murmured, still fucking you slow. “So you never forget who keeps you like this. Who owns you.”
“Do it,” you begged, barely coherent.
He slid out nearly all the way—then slammed back in.
And Yamato shifted.
You froze. So did he.
The sword teetered, perfectly balanced, until the weight settled again against your ass. Still in place.
Vergil chuckled—actually chuckled, low and dark. “You’re lucky.”
His fingers trailed down your spine, grabbing a fistful of your hair as he leaned closer, pressing his chest to your back, the tip of the sword grazing the side of your hip.
“Now,” he whispered, voice molten, “let’s see how long you can last.”
you and Law are crushing hard, entirely oblivious to it, but the Straw Hats and Heart Pirates know better. (this is a long one sorry)
a man who yearns is a man who earns!!!!!!
The Polar Tang had become like your home away from home. The crew your fondest friends and family. Going a day without them would feel like torment, as though a part of you was missing.
But none so much as Law.
Your feelings for him were strong, yet you remained professional for the sake of the crew, never daring to tempt the boundary. You knew that if the man caught wind of your emotions it would disrupt the meticulously calculated roles each of you were intended to play.
You’d rather push your feelings away and hide than ruin a family forged upon the sea.
Besides, the probability of Law reciprocating your feelings was minimal.
Right?
Docking on an island to resupply was the cover Law had given for this outing. You were running low on items, sure, but nothing to the point you’d be unable to manage a while longer.
The Polar Tang was simply unbearable sometimes, and what better way to retreat from the suffocating environment than stretching your legs?
In all honesty, Law was just looking to spend a moment alone with you.
His plan had been to accompany you on one of the tasks he intended for today. He hates shopping, despises it, really. But with you he finds the task to be tolerable, maybe even enjoyable.
Law loves the way your face lights up when you spot something you like while out on errands. He certainly doesn’t secretly return to buy everything you merely touch, presenting them to you as though they mean nothing, feigning ignorance when you mention spotting it in a marketplace a few islands back.
He plays it off every time Shachi or Penguin bring it up, grumbling whenever they start teasing him.
“Captain, don’t you think these boots are nice?” Penguin exaggerated, waving the pair of shoes around. Law was internally panicking, already knowing where this was going, glaring daggers into the man.
“They’re fine.” He said, uninterested.
“If it was y’know who they’d already be in a bag.” Shachi chuckled at Penguin’s side, the two stifling their laughter with the palms of their hands.
“If you two idiots have something to say then say it to my—“
“Law,” You chirped, walking over with the same pair of boots, only these ones were in your size. “Aren’t these boots nice? Feel the inside, they’re so soft!”
Law humored you, sliding his hands inside and pressing against the cushioning within. To his surprise, they really were comfortable. A practical shoe, something that would ensure longevity and stability without compromising your contentment.
“They’re a bit pricey though…” You hummed in disappointment.
Law swiped them from your grip without a second thought. “Don’t worry about the cost, I’ll get them for you. You’ve been needing a new pair, haven’t you? Consider it a necessary expense.”
“Oh, no, you already buy me so much!” You replied, attempting to take the boots back. But Law wasn’t having it for a moment, shaking his head and holding the pair away from you.
“Why don’t you go find me the herbs on this list, yeah? I’ll take care of these.”
You huffed but agreed, taking the paper from his hand, knowing he wouldn’t relent. Thanking Law, you walked off to do exactly what he’d asked of you.
Once you were gone, Law caught the figures of Penguin and Shachi from the corner of his eye. He turned to face them, their mouths agape as though they’d just seen a ghost.
“You’re not even trying to hide it.” Shachi spoke. It wasn’t so much a jest as it was fact.
Law clicked his tongue. Their comments were the last thing he wanted to hear right now. “Shut up.”
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
On your way to find a shop that sold the herbs Law was searching for, you ran into Chopper and Robin, the pair window shopping outside a bookstore ahead of you.
Chopper was the first to notice you traveling towards them, the blue-nose reindeer flashing you a bright smile. He called out your name, skipping over to you and wrapping you up in a tight hug around your waist.
“Hey, Chopper!” You cheered. “It’s been a minute hasn’t it?”
Robin greeted you soon after, her soothing voice like a salve upon your soul. You’ve always admired the woman, an effortless paragon of beauty and intellect.
“Are you guys docked nearby?” You asked. Chopper nodded enthusiastically.
“We docked to do a bit of shopping, supplies are running low...” Chopper explained.
Robin felt his story required a bit more clarification. “What he means is our Captain raided the fridge in the middle of the night again.”
“Again?” You marveled. “I thought Sanji put a lock on it?”
“He did.” Robin replied. “Multiple.”
“Never underestimate the power of food on Luffy.” Chopper huffed.
As if on queue the aforementioned Captain could be heard yelling in the distance before you. You beamed, raising a hand in greeting only to watch him soar past you, dust kicking up beneath his feet. You coughed, waving the debris away as chants of a familiar nickname fill the air.
“Traffy! Traffy! It’s me, Luffy! Traffy! I know you hearrr meeeeee!”
You watched your captain deflate, clearly defeated. He could only feign ignorance for so long. Luffy was all over him in an instant, scurrying to catch up on lost time.
“Why don’t you guys come hang out on our ship tonight? We’ll have Sanji cook a huge feast for us!”
“We really don’t have the—“
“We’d love to!” Shachi and Penguin interjected, pushing in front of Law to answer on his behalf. The man only grumbled, conceding to their whims. You’d remain throughout the night and depart early tomorrow, anyways. He supposed there was no harm in free food and drink.
Law approached you from where you remained at Chopper and Robin’s side. “Any objections?”
You shook your head. “Sounds nice. When was the last time we relaxed?”
“Law always lets you relax…” Penguin mumbled under his breath. You turned to face him, furrowing your eyebrows.
“You’re talking a lot of shit to someone that has access to your medical records, Pen.” A smile crossed your lips but it didn’t dare reach your eyes.
Penguin felt a shiver run down his spine, leaning over and whispering into Shachi’s ear. “They’re perfect for each other.”
The rest of the supply run went by in a flash, the crew rejuvenated by the prospect of spending the evening with the Straw Hats.
You decided to forfeit your typical uniform and dress up for the occasion, the summer climate of the island causing your boiler suit to stick to you like a second skin. You went with a comfortable, breezy outfit that accentuated your natural appearance, applying lotion and a sweet smelling scent to top it all off.
The Thousand Sunny was roaring with chatter, laughter and dance dominating every corner of the ship. You sat happily listening to a story Usopp was telling, clearly exaggerating his contribution to the situation. You sipped a sweet drink Sanji had concocted for everyone, a hint of mint complimenting blueberry lemonade.
“So, when are you gonna confess to your captain?” Nami asked as though it was nothing more than an inquiry of the weather. You choked on your drink, Robin using her power to spawn a hand on the back your chair, the limb tapping your back in hopes of alleviating the choking.
You caught your breath a few moments later. Though you almost wished you’d passed out in an effort to avoid the conversation.
The two women were nothing less than good friends of yours. Despite your rivaling crews and their will to overcome the achievements of the other, it was always nice to spend time with them. You set your drink down, leaning back in your chair to stare up at the stars glittering across the evening sky.
“Please,” You laughed out, amused by their inquiry. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“We’re not blind, y’know. Anyone could see plain as day the two of you are smitten. So cut the crap, tell him how you feel!”
Out of the corner of your eye you watched Law partake in the festivities from a distance, a content expression on his face as he simply observed the crews.
“He… doesn’t see me that way…” You sighed, turning back to fully face the two women staring at you as though you’d grown a second head.
“You’re joking, right?” Nami asked, incredulous. “Like this is a joke to you, isn’t it? It has to be.”
You shook your head, swirling your beverage in your hands. “We’re just friends.”
Robin cut into the conversation, her comforting silence put on pause. “Friends don’t stare the way your Captain is currently.”
You turned back to gaze at Law once more, your eyes meeting. It was like a trance, pulling you in but you couldn’t dare indulge. You smiled shyly, waving at the man. He regarded you with a nod of his head, turning away as Luffy pounced on him.
You laughed, Usopp dropping down from the table he recounted his tales upon and taking your hand. “Let’s dance already!” He cheered.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
Law never was one for a party, content with observing from a distance while those he held dear indulged in their own fun.
He babysat a beverage you’d handed to him earlier, something Sanji had tended for his darlings girls—Nami swiping some for you to drink. You shared with him, and though it was a bit sweet for his taste, he endured.
The way you talked and laughed so freely while conversing with Nami and Robin had his chest tightening. He could look at you all day and never grow tired of the sight, not for a moment. There was something about you, something truly magnetic that just had him wanting more. He craved your presence, yearned for moments where the two of you could exist in blissful peace.
Law always had to fight the urge to reach out and touch you, crossing that boundary between captain and crew mate that had been set in stone the moment he asked you to join the crew.
In the midst of his thoughts you turned to face him. The man was thankful for the distance between you, a whisper of pink dusting his cheeks. You smiled, waving at him with that beautiful expression upon your face. He wished he could condemn the moment to memory and replay it for eternity.
He considered walking over to you, joining you in your conversation when Luffy bounded towards him, limbs stretching as he propelled right next to Law, nearly spilling some of the contents of his drink. He used his hand to cover the lip, glaring daggers at the Straw Hat pirate.
“C’mon, Traffy, have fun!” Luffy groaned.
“I’m content here. Go have your own fun.” Law responded.
“Lighten up! What, you mad Usopp is dancing with your cruuuuush?” Luffy teased.
Law scoffed. “I’m not upset that—! Long Nose is what?”
Luffy sidestepped for Law to get a better view, Usopp twirling you around while you both giggled happily. The night was warm despite it being well into the evening, and suddenly the once comfortable temperature was suffocating. Law downed the rest of his beverage, tossing the cup away and excusing himself to the Polar Tang.
“Hey, Captain!” Penguin called out. “Where ya goin’?”
Law just glared in his direction, the man jumping up and into Shachi’s arms.
“Get off!” Shachi yelled, dropping Penguin on his ass.
He didn’t look back, couldn’t handle the thought of you being whisked away by Long Nose of all people. His jealousy was suffocating, but he wouldn’t dare admit to himself that that was the emotion currently dominating his mind, body and soul. No, Law would rather sulk in the submarine than admit anything of the sort.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
Dancing with Usopp had been a whirlwind of fun. You’d twirled between him, Nami, and Robin; Brook taking your hand and dancing with you, too. One by one members of both crews began excusing themselves from the festivities to turn in for the night.
Shachi and Penguin were completely wasted, Bepo bidding everyone a heartfelt farewell as he escorted them back to the submarine. You remained on the Thousand Sunny, head fuzzy as the night took over your mind.
You took notice of Law’s absence a while ago. It wasn’t anything particularly alarming, he was usually the last to arrive and first to go.
But something felt off about this time.
“I should get going.” You sighed. The only remaining member of the Heart Pirates alongside Zoro, Nami and Luffy. Everyone else had turned in, leaving the four of you to stew in each other’s company.
“Whaaaaat!?” Luffy groaned.
Zoro and Nami’s cheeks dusted pink, neither willing to admit they’d begun to feel the effects of alcohol.
“Go get your man!” Nami drunkenly slurred, holding another bottle into the air. You swiped it from her, the woman cursing, sticking her tongue out at you.
“Wait. You’re dating someone?” Luffy gawked. “Lemme guess! It’s a person right.”
Nami hiccuped. “He’s so hopeless…”
“It’s that damn shitty-hat captain.” Zoro mumbled, taking another long sip of his drink. “Anyone with two eyes and a brain could see it.”
“Ohhhh! You mean Traffy?” Luffy said. “That makes so much sense!”
You looked around with frantic eyes. “W-What’s that supposed to mean!?” You choked.
Luffy giggled, swiping leftover bites from what little food remained. He didn’t elaborate, nor did Zoro or Nami, both of them looking nearly passed out atop a barrel.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
Much to Law’s chagrin, you concluded your evening on the Straw Hat’s ship, choosing to spend the night there rather than drunkenly stumbling back onto the Polar Tang in the middle of the night.
He’d been up late awaiting your arrival, watching impatiently as the hours ticked on. Law couldn’t remember when he’d fallen asleep. It wasn’t until Penguin mentioned you never returning that Law’s mood soured.
He stood in the kitchen with two mugs in his tattooed hands, filling both up with fresh coffee. He added milk and sugar to taste, then took a seat at the table. One mug in front of him and the other to his right, where you always sat. This was his routine every morning. You’d enter with a plate of something for the both of you to nibble on while sitting in a comfortable morning silence.
You always thanked him for making you the perfect cup of coffee, and everyday he’d hide his smile behind his own beverage.
But today your coffee had grown cold. It wasn’t an issue, he figured your likely hangover kept you in bed a little while longer.
Then Shachi entered, Penguin in tow. The morning silence you both typically shared had come to its end.
“Mornin’” Shachi groaned. Law hummed a greeting, not looking up from the book in his hands. He tapped his finger against the table impatiently. You were taking longer than usual.
“You waiting up for your lover?” Penguin mumbled, tiredly teasing the man. He poured his own mug of coffee, dumping a terrifying amount of sugar into it. “Didn’t come back last night. Must’ve spent the night with Straw Hat and them.”
“What?”
Law shut his book faster than Shachi or Penguin had ever seen.
“I’m going out.” Was the last thing he said before disappearing.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
All things considered, your late night and indulgent drinking, you weren’t hungover by any means. You felt calm, rejuvenated, even. A night of fun was just what you needed.
You’d departed early into the morning, Usopp alongside you while the two of you discussed anything and everything. The sniper had wanted to purchase some materials he’d forgotten for his tinkerings while you simply wanted to enjoy the island a little longer before departing.
You found some bookmarks in the window of one of the shops, beaming at the illustrations of anatomy painted onto them. Law would love them. He was always using random objects to mark pages.
Or, like a maniac, insisting he’d recall where he left off.
The thought sent shivers down your spine.
You ducked into the shop to purchase them without a second thought, inquiring on the most recent installment of a series he’d been reading for quite some time since you were there. To your surprise, they’d received a small shipment this morning, and you swiped that up alongside the bookmarks.
“Soooo…” Usopp drawled. “You guys a thing orrrr…?”
“Oh no,” You grumbled, pressing a hand to your cheek and refusing eye contact. “Not you too.”
“Listen, we’ve all been wondering, alright?” Usopp admitted. His words struck lightning through your heart, short circuiting your brain and making a mess of your thoughts.
He led you towards the stall he was searching for earlier, a small trove of mechanical parts that most would consider garbage. Usopp expertly plucked what he was looking for one thing at a time, slowly amassing a small pile of trinkets in his arms.
“We’re not together.” You finally admitted. The reality had your heart splintering, fragments fluttering onto the floor at your feet. “Honestly, he doesn’t see me that way.”
“Did he tell you that?” Usopp asked.
You shook your head.
The sniper hummed, tossing another part into his pile. “Then how can you be so sure? Have faith in yourself! They don’t call me Captain Usopp because I quit, they call me Captain Usopp because I take what I want when I want it!”
“Nobody calls you—“
“Anyways!” Usopp redirected, turning to purchase the items. “Have you even told the guy how you feel?” He asked.
You shook your head. “No! I could never tell him!”
Usopp shook his head, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you in close as the two of you departed from the stall. He made deep eye contact with you, his nose pressing against your cheek.
“What do you honestly have to lose?”
You held up your hand, counting on your fingers. “My dignity, my crew, my home, my purpose—“
“Okay, okay!” Usopp interrupted. “That was supposed to be encouraging…”
You laughed, poking Usopp in his side, the sniper yelping and jumping away from you. Moments like these made you grateful for the life you’ve lived up until this point, every decision leading you to this moment.
Though you weren’t ready to convey the depth of your emotions to Law, it helped knowing there was a crew of people who believed in you and your affections.
The call of your name diverted your attention from Usopp, the man now going into depth about what he intended for his tinkering. You whipped around, Law walking towards you, only a few feet behind.
You gasped, hiding the bag you’d purchased for him behind your back. “Captain!” You squeaked.
“You didn’t come back to the submarine last night.” He said without greeting. His expression was cold, a serious gaze as he his eyes flickered to the sniper at your side then back to you.
“I was not in any condition to walk back to the Tang,” You admitted. “Luffy offered to let me spend the night.”
Law hummed. “You could’ve called me.”
“You left so soon I figured you’d turned in for the night. Didn’t wanna bother you with something so stupid.”
“Your safety and comfort aren’t stupid.”
Slowly, whispering a farewell you barely registered, Usopp slipped away, running back to the ship to report what he’d just heard to the crew.
“I’m sorry. I’ll let you know when I’m staying out next time, Captain.”
Law shook his head. “There won’t be a next time. You call me, that’s it.”
Heat fluttered to your face. You managed to slip out a soft “okay” before he gestured for the two of you to get going. You looked around, wondering where Usopp had run off to.
“Did you see which way Usopp went? He was right next to me a moment ago.”
Law huffed, you hardly noticed, too busy concentrating on keeping the gift you’d purchased for him out of his view.
“What does it matter?”
“I just hope he isn’t getting himself into any trouble. He’s very… eccentric.”
Law wished you’d drop the topic. This morning was already going painfully long, his schedule thrown off course causing frustration to rise within him. He couldn’t fathom why you cared about that damn sniper so much.
“Have you eaten?” Law asked.
You shook your head. “I don’t think I could stomach anything. Still full from last night.”
“Can’t have you skipping meals.” Was all you heard Law say before he dipped into a nearby pastry shop. As quickly as he entered he emerged, holding up a sweet bread for you to take. You thanked him warmly, fumbling with shifting the bag of goodies you’d purchased for him in order to grab it.
Law’s eyebrow quirked up, taking notice of the paper bag you held tightly against your side. He caught the briefest glimpse of its contents.
“Do a little shopping?” He inquired.
Against your better judgement you decided this moment was as good as any other. A warm morning, a nice treat and the two of you alone on a nice stroll back to the Tang.
You swore you heard Nami scream but decided you were simply hearing things, shrugging it off.
“Got you a little something since I was out.” You sheepishly explained, handing the bag off to him.
Again. That damn scream.
Law surveyed its contents, first looking over the meticulously crafted bookmarks, condemning their every detail to memory before he smiled the smallest gesture.
“These are lovely.” He spoke softly. You watched the way his hands cascaded along the long-since dried ink, the art protected by an encapsulating layer of some kind. “I’ve been needing bookmarks.”
“I know,” You responded, taking another bite of your pastry. “I don’t know how much longer you can go on swiping pens and medical supplies to hold your place.
“I can remember the pages just fine, too.” He spoke. He knew how much you hated being reminded of it, relishing in the way a shiver ran down your spine.
“It’s psychotic.” You whispered, staring off into the distance.
“It’s practical.”
“There’s something else in there too.”
Law slipped the book out from within the bag, the nice attendant at the shop wrapping it neatly in a layer of tissue paper. Law ripped it apart, gawking at the newest installation.
“I had no idea this was even out yet!” He marveled at the cover. You watched the way he eagerly flipped through the pages, fingers dancing across the cover and lingering on the art.
You giggled, watching the way his excitement festered without him meaning to express it. He was always so cold, so concise. You longed for the moments between you where a slip of a smile or a hint of laughter disrupted his usual attitude.
Your walk continued in silence for a short while, taking in the sights and sounds of a foreign land. It was a crude imitation of the time typically spent between you every morning. You welcomed the change, it’s always nice to disrupt your routine every now and again. And despite Law’s previous reservations, this was a nice surprise, he had to admit.
“Will we be heading off soon?” You asked.
Law confirmed your suspicions with a silent nod, still hung up on the book you’d purchased for him. He was currently reading the first page, not a breath passing his lips as he became entirely engrossed.
The crowd began to grow, the early morning having steadily shifted into afternoon. People pressed against you, skin-to-skin, sometimes knocking you away from where you previously walked comfortably at Law’s side.
A hand pulled you closer, Law’s fingers delicately resting against your waist as he kept you at his side. You stiffened, the sudden contact something Law has never been fond of initiating. Small touches were often shared between you—the passing of a map, steady hands bandaging an injury—but nothing so direct as this.
You welcomed it, a small smile resting on your lips. Law’s face, hidden behind the book, held the same expression.
And again, in the distance, a scream that sounded suspiciously like the Straw Hat’s navigator.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
Back on the Polar Tang you fell back into the rhythm of things. There was much work to be done before departing, and as much as you wanted to bid farewell to your friends, you knew there was much to be done between your crews.
You zipped your boiler suit back up onto your body, noticing a freshness it hadn’t held previously. It held the scent of linen, freshly washed.
Odd.
Nevertheless you went straight to work, helping Bepo chart a course in nav then assisting Shachi and Penguin with a few chores that had to be done prior to departure.
“Sooooo…” Shachi trailed off, leaning on the mop between his hands. “Have fun spending the night with your little partner?”
You titled your head. “What?”
“You and the sniper!” Penguin clarified. “You two were dancing all night! Is there something we should know?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
“Gosh, no!” You laughed, spraying some disinfectant onto the counter’s surface and wiping it away. “Usopp is like the weird brother you go to for advice.”
“Great news,” Shachi sighed in relief. “I was beginning to think Captain’s mood would be all over the place.”
Again, confusion crossed your features. “Why would Law be upset?”
“I mean, isn’t it obvious…?” Penguin spoke, staring into your soul.
You slowly shook your head, stilling your movements. “Am I missing something?”
Shachi and Penguin shared a look. “They’re hopeless.” The two spoke in a strange tandem.
Shachi was the one to bite. He took a deep breath, propping his mop up against the wall. “Listen, anyone can see you two are smitten. Just get it over with already and tell each other how you feel!”
“Oh, not this again…” You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Guys, I already heard this from Luffy’s crew all night! Don’t make me hear it from you too.”
“Oh… and that didn’t… raise a few signals…?” Penguin interjected.
You shot the man a glare.
“There’s nothing going on between Law and I. We’re crew mates, that’s it… that’s all we’ll ever be.”
“Could you be anymore oblivious of each other?” Shachi was practically gnawing at nothing, fighting back words he promised Bepo he’d keep to himself.
“You guys are delusional.” You laughed.
That was the straw the break Shachi’s back.
“He buys you presents, like all the time!” He groaned, fed up. If it was up to him he’d lock you in a broom closet and force you to kiss.
“Expensive ones.” Penguin chirped.
“Expensive ones!” Shachi reaffirmed.
“I ask him not to. I’m capable of buying them for myself.” You spoke confidently, as if those words helped the situation in the slightest.
Shachi raked his fingers down his face, unable to take another moment of this.
“He knows how you take your coffee, can somehow sense when you’d prefer tea, waits for you every. single. morning. like a lovesick fool and was soooo pissed this morning when you weren’t there!”
This was news to you. You opened your mouth to say something, but Shachi continued to cut you off.
“And you! You’re no better! With your cute little snacks while he’s working, checking up on him, listening to him ramble about his medical findings!”
“I think they’re interesting.” You weakly defended.
“Of course you do!” He yelled, taking hold of your shoulders and shaking you like a doll. “He could shit in his hands and clap and you’d find it interesting!”
Penguin stilled Shachi, urging him to calm down before Bepo came in and heard a conversation he made the two of them promise was forbidden.
Or worse. The captain himself.
As if on cue, Bepo entered to let you guys know you’d be leaving momentarily. He stilled, viewing the way Shachi held you in place while Penguin urged him to be silent.
“Please don’t tell me…” He gasped. You were sure he went pale underneath that already stark white fur of his.
“He choked.” Penguin blamed, pointing a finger at Shachi.
“Me!? You’re just as guilty.”
The pair began bickering between themselves, Bepo silently swooping in and delivering you from your misery. “Let’s get you to your room, yeah?” You nodded without a word, hanging onto Shachi’s frustrations like a prayer.
He wasn’t right, was he?
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
Shachi’s words left you avoiding Law, throwing off a rhythm once carefully cultivated. You wondered if you were coming on too strong, doing too much when Law would simply prefer if you’d give him a moment away from it all.
He was a silent, reclusive man, after all.
It started the next morning. You’d walked into the kitchen yearning for a warm cup of tea.
Law, as always, was seated in his usual spot. In front of him he had his own steaming cup of coffee, while to his right there was a warm mug of tea.
“I added lemon today,” He spoke softly, voice still lingering with the effects of the morning. “I hope you don’t mind.”
You shook your head, thanking him softly. Rather than taking a seat you picked your mug up off the table and leaned against the sink, sipping away as you stared into nothingness. Law noticed this, furrowing his brows but not looking up from the book you’d purchased him the day previous.
You finished your beverage, dipping out of the kitchen without so much as a farewell, leaving Law there to ponder what had just happened.
Law’s day had been painfully devoid of you after that. While he was working he could typically count on you to make a few appearances, checking up on him and offering him a glass of water, or splitting a snack you’d made for yourself (though you had every intention of sharing it with him).
The man was growing frustrated. One day turned into two, then three. Before he knew it an entire week of this behavior had passed. It soured his mood, dampening what patience he typically held, and it surely showed.
“Cap, need you to look over these charts.” Shachi asked politely.
Law huffed. “I’m sure they’re fine.”
“Bepo asked me to check with you to be sure.”
The man groaned, looking over the charts quickly, absorbing the information but hardly caring about the contents for once in his life.
“See? They’re fine. Now leave me alone.”
“R-Right.” Shachi affirmed, offering a messy salute due to his arms being full of charts.
He ran like hell out of there and back to Nav. Bepo and Penguin were discussing the next island on course when Shachi burst in, a frantic expression on his face.
“He’s pissed.” He squeaked.
“What did you do now?” Penguin asked, clearly irritated.
“Why does it have to be me?”
“It’s always you!”
“Nuh uh!”
Bepo snapped the two out of it. “No, he’s right, it’s definitely your fault.”
“What the hell!”
“No, seriously. Think about it. Have you seen the two of them together ever since your little talk?” Bepo asked.
Penguin and Shachi exchanged a frantic look.
“We messed up.”
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
You hated the silence.
Well, usually you wouldn’t mind it, often sharing it with Law. But today, devoid of his presence, you couldn’t stand it for a moment.
You found yourself pondering thoughts of him, what he was doing right now, though that was painfully obvious—always working, never taking a moment to relax if he could help it.
Bepo knocked on the frame of your open room, lingering in the threshold.
“Cap is doing surprise checkups right now. You’re up.”
You thanked Bepo for letting you know, a sigh escaping your lips as you hopped off your bed and started down the hall. There was no point in delaying the inevitable. If there was one thing Law took seriously, it was the collective health of the Heart Pirates.
“You’re here.” Law greeted, setting his tools neatly onto the table at the examination beds side. He gestured for you to have a seat. You took it without a word.
The air was tense. That much was for certain.
The examination continued as usual. Questions pertaining to your diet and daily activity, whether there had been any particular changes or observations of note for him to be aware of.
“Everything is the same as always.” You spoke honestly. “No changes that I can think of.”
“I can think of a few…” Law huffed under his breath.
Your eyes flickered to his in an instant. “What?”
Law cursed under his breath. “Nothing… forget I said anything.”
“No,” You urged. “You have something on your mind. What is it?”
Law attempted to avoid the topic as best he could, taking his final notes of your examination without a word. But you pressed forward, pushing until he reached a breaking point.
Finally, after much pestering, Law relented.
“You’re avoiding me.” He spoke.
Your eyes widened, breath caught in your throat. You knew it’d likely been obvious, but you never thought it would’ve bothered him enough to bring it up. You couldn’t bear looking into his eyes, seeing the emotions pooling within them. Was this the result of unspoken emotion?
Or was it merely an observation?
“I wouldn’t say avoiding… more like… staying clear.”
“That’s the same thing just worded differently.”
You agreed, staring into your lap, hands cupped delicately.
“Can you tell me why?”
You shook your head, embarrassed you’d brought it to this point.
“Room.”
Law’s sudden use of his devil fruit caught your attention immediately. You looked up, watching as the chart in his hand was quickly replaced with a small bag. You tilted your head, confused as he held it out to you.
“I’ve been meaning to give you this. Just haven’t found the right time.” Law admitted.
“What is it?” You asked, a bit embarrassed by the sudden presentation.
“Open it.”
So you did. Slowly, as if opening it any faster would shatter what was inside. Within the bag was a box. You were careful with the lid, gasping when its content was on display for you to witness.
“It’s so cute!” You gasped, picking up the transponder snail in two hands, beaming at the creature’s cheery expression.
“I’ve already saved my number onto it, so you don’t have to worry about doing that yourself.” Law spoke, watching the way you cooed at the little creature.
“You didn’t have to get this for me, Law. I’ve been fine using the one we all share on the Tang.”
Law nodded. “I know. I wanted you to have a way to contact me—us!—whenever you need it. That way you won’t be stranded all night like you were the other day.”
You set the snail down gently at your side.
“I’m sorry I’ve been so distant lately. I didn’t mean for it to influence you.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you’re alright.”
You smiled. Glad the air had settled between you. The last thing you wanted was for the calm that surrounded the pair of you to be disrupted.
“But, if you don’t mind me asking, what brought this up?”
Honestly, if you ever intended to move past this, you’d have to speak about it. Only through silence were you condemning yourselves to failure.
“Shachi said something totally crazy! I mean, you’re gonna laugh when you hear it, I’m sure.”
Law remained silent. Your sign to continue.
“He went on and on about how you have feelings for me. Saying how obvious it was that we’re smitten.”
You rambled about the conversation that’d occurred, the way you thought it would be best to keep your distance so Law didn’t get the wrong idea. You even told him about what the Straw Hats and Usopp had said only a short time before that.
Law broke his silence in the midst of your ramble. “Do you?”
“W-What?”
He got closer, the distance between you steadily faltering into nothingness. “Do you have feelings… for me…?”
You didn’t know how to answer. What would be the correct response? Should you jeopardize your dynamic and potentially ruin everything? Or lie and condemn your feelings to ruin?
“I heard everything that day. I listened to every word Shachi’s big mouth blubbered and heard everything you said in response.” He admitted.
Law took your hands in his, looking into your eyes.
“Tell me you don’t have feelings for me,” Law almost begged. “It would make this so much easier.”
“Easier?” You whispered.
“If I know this feeling is mine alone I’ll force myself to forget, make it so that I never let my emotions hinder me again. But…” You watched the way he paused, considering his words carefully. His grip on you tightened ever so slightly. “I can’t stand another moment like this. My chest hurts so much and there’s practically no logic about it, apart from it being a side effect of affection.”
“Do you like me?” You asked carefully.
“I asked you first.” He dryly attempted to make you laugh, his nerves betraying him.
Words are a difficult thing. It’s the very reason so little are shared between you. You were comfortable with your long stretches of silence, favors passed between you without having to ask. Morning coffee and snacks, daily check-ins and little gifts that should mean nothing. But to you, to both of you, they’re everything. It wasn’t a matter of whether or not affection was present, it was whether you were willing to admit it, willing to surpass that threshold and conquer what had been holding you back.
Because no matter what you told yourselves, every action since you can remember has been an act of undying affection.
So, wordlessly, Law pressed his lips against your cheek, pulling away just as quickly as he’d been there. He still lingered, your body tingling where his lips had met your skin.
“Was that… um… was it okay?” He was suddenly so timid, worried he’d read your reaction wrong and you would momentarily condemn him for being so dense.
But you looked down where your hands remained conjoined, tracing the shape of his tattoos with your thumb. Then you leaned forward, pressing your own kiss against his lips.
It was shy, almost awkward. Law didn’t kiss back, not right away. By the time he’d gathered the courage you were already pulling away.
And so the two of you remained there, once more enveloped in that comforting silence you enjoyed so much, the silence that told you he was there, the silence that told you he always would be.
puta-puta-puta puta-puta-puta
You turned to your side to find your snail ringing.
“Should it be doing that?” You asked, confused.
Law shook his head, hesitant to allow you to take the call. His gaze was criminal as he watched you pick up the receiver, holding it up to your ear.
Nami called out your name from the other line.
“How did you get my number?” You asked, your confusion only growing. The only one with access to your line should be Law and Law alone.
“Don’t worry about that right now!” She deflected. “I sensed cash in the wind and I knew I had to call you!”
“Nami, what the hell are you talking about?” You laughed out, a bit nervous.
“Did you and Law just confess your very obvious feelings?”
“W-What!?” You choked.
Law gently coaxed the snail from your hands, pressing the receiver against his ear.
“That’s right, Navigator. What’s it matter to you?”
AAAA YOU WRITE FOR DMC okokok can I request a little something something for Vergil, him growing a soft spot for devil may cry's resident assistant and being so protective over them
Here you go Anon! I hope you enjoy this lil blurb! (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ) It took a lot of energy to write it, so I apologize if it seems messy. My energy levels have been rather low lately (；′⌒`) But I still really hope you enjoy! 💕
Vergil x Reader blurb
Word Count: 1527 words!
CW: Fluff, Vergil's internal conflicting feelings, someone gets mad and threatens you and Vergil unintentionally maybe dislocates their shoulder, ambiguous injury (not to you), slight teasing
---
Vergil considered himself a man of many things.
He was a man with an avid love for books and poetry, studied different forms of combat, and saw himself as well traveled and well versed in many subjects in demonology.
However, despite his amassed knowledge from over the years, there were few things he still could not initially figure out.
One, being you.
A measly little human his twin let linger in that shop of his.
You didn’t look like much in his eyes, not at first. He wondered how you even were involved with demons and demon hunting when you looked like every other human out there.
Dante of course, gave him a chilling smile, saying you were perfectly fine the way you were. If Vergil had a problem, he’d take it up with him.
Vergil of course, huffed, and kept his mouth shut about it. Forgive him for wondering what it was a random human brought to the table.
After that, however, Vergil decided to observe.
You were a kind little thing, is one of the first things he noticed.
No doubt you had an idea of who he was, and all he had done. Even if Dante or the others had kept certain things from you, it wasn’t hard to know he had done a few… questionable things.
If he were being generous.
Yet, you were still kind to him.
You greeted him every time you saw him at Dante’s shop, and made a point to make sure he was included in conversations or activities.
In fact, he was surprised when you invited him out to do things, such as shopping for supplies, or going out to eat lunch.
At first, he was wary and hesitant. Was hard not to be with how he grew up around others who only used him for his power and their own gain. What did you have to gain by being friendly to him, let alone his brother and his brother’s friends?
Yet, at most, you simply asked him to help you carry things when shopping. Never did you ask him for anything specific or selfishly.
He relaxed a bit after a while, especially seeing Dante so carefree around you, but Vergil still kept his guard up.
Now though, he decided to indulge his curiosity about you a bit more.
Instead of giving small, near one word answers to things you asked, he actively tried to engage in the conversations with you a bit more. Even if he was still more interested in hearing you talk than doing the talking himself.
All while ignoring the painfully smug and mischievous look he could feel Dante giving him nearly every time he did so.
He had made sure his twin saw the rude gesture he threw in his direction when you weren’t paying attention.
You were confused when Dante barked out a laugh out of nowhere, but he told you not to worry about it while Vergil gave him an icy glare just begging his twin to say anything, promising painful consequences.
After that, he’d admit, he was growing… attached.
Vergil hadn’t noticed it, not at first. Not until Nero saw him next to you almost every time he came for a weekly visit. Naturally, Nero eventually had to say something.
“What, are you their body guard now, or somethin’?"
The comment had taken him aback.
“Pardon?”
Nero gestured with his head over to where you were nearby, cheering as you won something on a game on your phone, while Lady slumped in her seat after seemingly losing.
“You like, never leave their side anytime I see you two together. If you aren’t glued to their hip, you are typically in the same room 90% of the time.”
Vergil felt as if he had been struck, his twin’s snort barely even reaching his ears from across the room.
Had he really been sticking to you like a lost duckling?
Before he can even make a retort or comment, you are running up to both of them.
“I won! Lady owes us dinner. What do you want?” you said with a wide smile, handing them a phone with a menu on the screen.
Nero took the phone, seemingly deciding to drop the subject, while Vergil’s mind struggled to snap out of the sudden realizations he was having.
You were nice to him, even after all this time. Should he really be surprised he somewhat latched onto you?
That, and you didn’t seem to mind one bit that he hovered nearby when you were around. A part of him almost prayed Dante or his son didn’t say anything to you about it, though you appeared none the wiser, or did not seem to care if they did.
All you did was smile at him, handing him the phone after Nero finished putting in his order, all as if everything was normal.
Vergil had a lot to think about after that.
It was a little bit overwhelming for him, he’d admit only to himself.
He wasn’t an idiot, Vergil had a gnawing suspicion what that ever growing feeling in his gut could be. However, it was taking a lot coming to terms with what it could actually be.
Plus, the last thing he needed was his family pestering him about feeling affectionate towards you. At least while he figured things out.
Meanwhile, you seemed as happy as ever to drag him along with you outside of the shop whenever you left to go do something.
Another small thing that made him mentally sigh. Not in annoyance, but rather a slow acceptance with what that pesky feeling was.
So imagine what he thought would be a regular day out with you turned out to be rather eventful.
...And a bit more eye opening.
You had happily been chatting away to him about something or another over a show you liked. Something about the themes from one episode painted another earlier episode in a whole different light.
Not that he cared for it, or was paying attention. (He was.)
He was mainly content to let you speak, and you didn’t seem to mind doing most of the talking since he always listened.
However, the peace was short-lived when someone walked out of a nearby store in a rush, and started cursing after you accidentally bumped into them.
It was an older looking man, who let out a few more curses as he lost his footing briefly, spinning to catch himself, but spilling his hot drink on himself in the process.
“Damn. It. All.” He mumbled, looking down at his ruined shirt.
You rushed to his side, apologies spilling from your mouth despite not having done anything wrong. Vergil was about to sigh, and prepare to wait as you checked over the guy-
Until you let out a strangled sound of surprise. Vergil’s eyes snapped over to you, and the man was gripping the front of your shirt and holding you uncomfortably close.
“You little pipsqueak! Do you know how much this shirt fuckin’ cost, huh? Why I outta-“
The man’s words were caught in his throat when a hand was suddenly on his shoulder. He turned his head around, and the fear that was in his eyes was as clear as day.
Vergil had felt his whole body go cold when he saw you in the man’s grip, and didn’t even realize he had stepped behind the man to pull him away.
“Let them go.”
Nor did he realize how his voice was… being overlapped by his more demonic one. Or how his eyes had flashed red, looking more eerie near the entrance to the dark alley behind him.
Vergil’s grip tightened, and he blatantly ignored the ‘pop’ from the man’s shoulder, and his scream of pain.
“Now.”
The man let you go immediately, ripping himself away from the ‘demon’, and tripping over his feet to back away as you stumbled to the ground from a shove.
Vergil simply rolled his shoulders in mild annoyance, ignoring how the man hoarsely muttered something about monsters before scurrying off down the road.
Meanwhile, you looked a bit stunned at what had happened, and Vergil simply walked over, and held out a hand for you.
“Are you alright?”
You looked at him for a moment, and then looked at his hand. Another moment passed, before you smiled brightly at him, and took his hand.
“Thanks for that!”
Before Vergil could roll his eyes and tell you it was nothing, you reached forward, giving him a hug.
It was quick, but Vergil found himself slightly frozen, briefly returning your hug before you let go.
“Come on, let me buy you an ice cream or something for helping me out before we go home.”
Vergil didn’t even have time to tell you not to worry about it as you grabbed his hand, and gently dragged him to a nearby ice cream parlor you all liked to frequent.
Still, Vergil was barely able to register you ordering one of his favorite sundaes as he replayed all that had happened.
Maybe being your ‘bodyguard’, as Nero had put it, didn’t sound so bad.
CONTENT.⠀female reader | post-DMC5, pining Vergil, fluff, developing relationships, talking about movies, Asian reader, falling in love, very disgustingly self-indulgent and self-insert | ~6,2k words
A/N.⠀I don't have an explanation . I wrote this in a hyperfixated daze and was so locked in I actually stayed up three hours past my bedtime. crazy times indeed
AVAILABLE ON AO3 | reblogs and comments are appreciated!!! | divider by @/cafekitsune
Months later, Red Grave City is still facing the remnants of what happened. Though the city is slowly but surely being rebuilt, there are leftover demons who couldn’t make it back home. After returning from Hell, Vergil reluctantly agreed to join the Devil May Cry crew and better himself. Now a man without a major plan, he’s found himself taking mercenary jobs and cleaning up the mess he made.
Come on, brother, it’s the least you can do! Dante had said, clasping a hand on his shoulder a little too firmly to be playful. So here he is, doing the least, but because it’s out of his volition, not because his irritating little brother told him to.
He’s met people and made amends since then. It’s not an easy path—not that he expected it to be—and it troubles him more than he’d like to admit. His relationship with Nero is still complicated, though they’ve taken to sparring against each other as some sort of a bonding exercise. Nero’s friend, the gunsmith, always says it’s not a proper way to bond, but it’s working well for them so far, so he doesn’t have any complaints.
What he does have a complaint about, however, is you.
You met just a few months ago. You were fighting demons on your own, covered in blood and entrails while protecting a child you saved a moment prior. Vergil happened to be hunting in the same area. To finish things up, he slayed the demon with ease, only seeing your fatigued form once the demon’s body disintegrated.
“That was my kill,” you whined playfully, pouting up at him. “Show-off.”
Not waiting for his reply, you returned to the young girl and offered her a hand. “Let’s go look for your dad now, okay?”
Before you left, you gave him a smile and mouthed ‘thank you.’ Though he considered it a normal interaction, he had an inkling that it wouldn’t be the only time you’d meet.
He was right.
The second time you met, it was during a demon invasion. You popped up seemingly out of nowhere and stole his kills. Recognizing him, you only offered him a mischievous grin.
“Now we’re even!” you stated triumphantly, wiping off your scimitar with a piece of tissue. “I’ll never forget what you did.”
“You were exhausted. There was no way you could’ve gotten that on your own.”
You gasped in mock offense. “How rude. And here I thought you were hot.”
Dante, amused, looked at him expectantly. Vergil sighed, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose.
“We’ve met,” he said plainly. “Unfortunately.”
Oblivious to his dismay, you introduced yourself to the team. You’re one of Nicoletta’s friends and a ‘dabbler.’ The demon hunting is just for fun. You didn’t say anything about your background, nor were you suspicious of seeing three men in full combat gear. Before you pranced away to Nicoletta with a bag full of what seemed to be demon parts, you smiled at Vergil again and told him the child had safely reunited with her father. Your friendliness was… something. He wasn’t used to it.
It almost irritated him, but somehow, he also didn’t mind it at all.
You started visiting the office more regularly after that. It felt like you were doing it mostly to annoy him, but also to bring gifts to the team. You always had bags of food in your hands and helped clean the place up without being asked to. The office never felt livelier. What surprised him was how you treated him as a friend. You brought him food and drinks he had never tried before, and sometimes talked to him about your favorite movies. He never had much input, but he always listened. There was something about your animated way of speaking that held him firmly.
You’ve never gone on a mission together. Not until now, at least. He was insistent that he could do this alone, but you wanted to tag along. And in the past half hour that he’s been here with you, there are two things that he noticed.
The first thing is that you’re brash and impulsive. You don’t move with the grace of a master swordsman—you move with the aggression of a brawler. You let out excited hollers and cheers when you cut down an enemy, which vexingly reminds him of his brother. You’re not sloppy, per se, but it’s very evident that you weren’t lying about doing this for fun. There isn’t a single bit of fear in you. It’s almost as if you’re toying with your prey.
The second thing he notices is that you have tunnel vision. You’re so engrossed in fighting off a bigger demon that you don’t notice another one creeping up behind you with its claws raised. Before it can strike, Vergil cuts it down with ease. The demon in front of you also disappears into ash.
“Focus,” he says simply. “You could’ve died.”
“I have you to protect me,” you say casually with a bright grin. A sign of pure trust that nearly makes him lose his mind.
He doesn’t know what’s worse. Your dishevelled state—torn clothes, blood splattered and smeared across your skin, the crazed look in your eyes—or the fact that you so wholeheartedly believe that he’ll protect you. He doesn’t have time to mull over it before he’s leaping to slice another approaching demon in half, glaring at you pointedly. You only look at him with a pleased expression, blinking innocently.
“See?” you giggle out. “I have you, Vergil.”
“You’re still reckless,” he mutters. More demons are coming closer. “Get back to work.”
Together, you make quick work of obliterating them all. The walk back to the office is spent mostly in silence, but with you chiming in whenever a thought pops into your head. Once you’ve arrived back, you separate to clean yourselves up. Minutes later, in fresher clothes and a clearer mind, Vergil watches you rub some sort of balm into your bruised skin leisurely. Noticing his stare, you smile up at him.
“You okay?” you ask, offering him the tin. “Do you want some? It’s traditional medicine. You can use it for bug bites and everything.”
Before he can reply, you continue. “I also have an oil version if that’s what you prefer. It’s really… well, oily. And you have to be really careful about not touching your face, because it’ll sting super bad. I do it all the time.”
“I don’t need them,” he declines.
“Okay! That’s fine.” You put your items back in your bag and swing your feet from where you’re sitting on the windowsill, upbeat and cheery. “So, did you need something?”
He pauses for a moment. “Your blade. Where did you learn how to fight?”
“Oh, my mom taught me!” You brandish your sword proudly, the sleek metal glinting under the light. “She retired, but she was a demon hunter, too. She’s running a dog hotel now. I help her with it full-time! So if you need me for a mission, then… just call us. She wants me to go out more anyway.”
“The way you fight is… chaotic,” he says carefully. “You could’ve gotten hurt.”
“Aw, is big bad Vergil of the Devil May Cry worried about me?” you coo playfully, lips forming into a pout. “Everything’s fine! Elegant and graceful like you isn’t my style. I like having fun. I think your sword’s cool, though. Well, I mean, I think all swords are cool, but…” You clear your throat awkwardly. “Sorry. You were saying?”
“I can train you,” he offers without thinking. That’s the first time he’s caved in so easily. “Refine your skills, so what happened today doesn’t happen again.”
“Am I that bad? Is that why you want to intervene?”
He blinks, surprised at how hurt you sounded. “I didn’t say that.”
“I’m kidding, Vergil,” you laugh softly. “Sure, why not? Sounds fun. I’m free this weekend anyway—we’re closing up for a few days. You’ll have me all to yourself.”
You wink at him, and suddenly he’s at a total loss.
Ignoring you, he changes the subject. “Do you need me to walk you home?”
“Ooh, a gentleman!” You tap your fingers together giddily, cheeks full from smiling. “It’s fine. It’s not dark out, so I can go by myself. Thanks for offering, though. I didn’t expect that out of you.”
You give him a reassuring pat on the back, though the force nearly knocks the breath out of his lungs.
“Guess I’ll see you this weekend!”
—
Training together becomes a regular occurrence.
You’re a quick learner, he notices, but you’re easily distracted. The sound of blades striking against each other fills the room. Short puffs of breath leave you as you keep up with his pace, flashing here and there so enthusiastically that it takes him aback for a moment. You look like you’re enjoying yourself, cheering and laughing with every move. It doesn’t look like you’re taking it seriously at all.
He manages to get you on the ground, pointing the tip of his sword at your neck. You don’t look defeated at all. Instead, you smirk at him. It’s a sight that, for a second, makes him nervous. Your cheeks are flushed. Your hair sticks to sweat-slick skin, and your eyes glimmer with mischief.
He frowns at you. “You’re losing on purpose.”
“Maybe I just like this view,” you shoot back, tone light and playful. It must be your default state. “Can we take a break? Not all of us have demon stamina like you do.”
He stares at you wordlessly. You stare back, expression contorting into a pleading one, like a sad puppy. Sighing, he relents. “Fine. You have five minutes.”
Five minutes turn into ten, and ten turns into fifteen. You never come back. He leaves the training room and finds you in the kitchen, eating fresh mangoes. The spoon is still in your mouth when you see him, eyes wide and panicked as if you got caught stealing.
“I paid for these myself!” you blurt out. “They’re mine. I can eat them.”
“I gave you a break so you could catch your breath.”
“I am catching my breath. The fact that I happened to have a craving for mangoes is not my fault.” You hand him the other half. It’s been sliced and inverted, the cubes ready to be eaten. “You want some? They’re namdokmai. Very hard to come by here. Well, not really, but they’re expensive. Exotic fruit and all that. Import taxes or something. I don’t know, I didn’t do well in economics.”
He squints at you. “Are you not planning on coming back?”
“I am!” You swallow the bite. He tries not to focus on the way your throat bobs. “I just wanted a snack break. I need more energy to keep up with you.”
“I highly doubt your words. You appear to be very comfortable.”
“Then join me. We’ve been sparring all day! I’m tired,” you whine, kicking your feet petulantly. “I want to do something else. Oh, I know! Let’s watch a movie. I brought DVDs because Dante’s collection is just… sad. I’m here to add color to this drab office. Just watch, I’ll buy us a console next!”
By some sheer miracle and an unexpected turn, he agrees. You beam at him and clap your hands together, skipping to the living room where you rifle through a stack of DVDs. You end up picking what seems to be a science fiction film that you’re excited about, judging from the eager smile you give him. It’s… surprisingly well-made. The rhythm and the ambience feel just right, the visuals are interesting, and it actually catches his attention.
He narrows his eyes at the creature that looks like a hybrid between a flea and an isopod. “What… is that?”
“A facehugger!” you chirp. “They plant their babies in a living host. That’s why it bursts out of Kane’s chest—aaaand I just spoiled the movie for you… I’m sorry.”
“Spoilers don’t bother me.”
“But I wanted to see you get scared…”
He huffs haughtily. “That day will never come.”
Even though you warned him about it, the scene in question almost makes him wince. It seems to scare you as well, watching how you’re nervously biting down on your thumb. He has half a mind to question why you’re watching something that scares you on purpose, but you’re unpredictable and a storm. You’ve always been quite the puzzle to him, anyway. He learns something new about you every time you come around.
Eventually, he finds his focus drifting from the movie to you instead.
You’re expressive and colorful, features brightening and frowning with every scene that touches you. Your knees are pulled to your chest, arms wrapped around them comfortably. His eyes travel your face. The curve of your nose, your eyelashes, your lips—swollen from how much you’d been biting down on it. When you glance at him, he swiftly returns his attention to the movie, but he can see your smug little smile from the corner of his eye.
You never make it back to the training room.
Vergil winds up spending hours and hours with you on the couch, accompanying you on your ‘marathon.’ Normally, he’d walk away—he’s not that interested in what you’re watching, not particularly—but he finds himself staying. There’s something about the way you talk about your interests that keeps him rooted to his spot. Pleasing. Magnetic.
By the last movie—Mamma Mia, you said it was called—the sun is beginning to set. You get up and yawn, stretching your arms above your head, completely oblivious to his inner musings. He believes you must have bewitched him in some way for him to stay with you. You always find a way to make him break out of the strict confines he puts on himself. He can’t tell if it just comes to you naturally or if you’re doing it on purpose, but one thing is for certain—
He thinks he’s falling.
—
“Hello, Devil May Cry!” comes your cheery voice from the doorway.
You walk in with hands full of glasses of bubble tea—a beverage he just can’t quite understand—for everyone present. You make your rounds and stop for chats, enthusiastically engaged and attentive to each and every one of your friends.
You reach him and hand him his cup, smiling at him. “For you. No boba or added sugar. Just regular Thai tea.”
“I’ve never had Thai tea,” he says. It’s not necessarily to dissuade you, it just… comes out of him on its own. Making conversation.
“See, now you have to try it or I’ll be sad,” you say jokingly. “You can have mine if you don’t like it. Actually, you probably won’t like that either…”
He grimaces. “How sweet is it?”
“I told them to make it extra sweet,” you reply, suddenly sheepish. “It’s a lot of sugar and sweetened condensed milk.”
“You amaze me,” he comments dryly.
You throw your head back and laugh, covering your mouth with your hand. A part of him feels negatively about the way you’re hiding yourself, but he brushes it off as just him being unused to you.
“Okay, I need to get this to Nico or she’ll kill me,” you sigh. “I’ll talk to you later!”
You practically skip away to the couch where Nicoletta is waiting, already talking about something he couldn’t quite catch. Dropping down on the seat next to her, you immediately immerse yourself in the conversation.
And what a sight it is—you’re practically radiating joy, brightening up the room with your presence. You banter with Nero, bicker back and forth with Dante, thoughtfully chat with Lady and Trish. If there was something he’d want to encapsulate, it would be this version of you. Dimples deep in your cheeks, eyes curved like little crescents, and a smile that is just captivating.
Your eyes meet across the room. Your smile widens and you wave at him before returning to what you were previously doing as if the pause didn’t happen at all. It’s the split second of a stare—a shared look of understanding, of fondness—that makes him freeze in his tracks. It’s far from the first time you’ve looked at him like that, but it makes him forget how to think every time it happens.
He shakes his head, clearing his thoughts and goes back to sharpening his sword, the image of your smile lingering in the back of his mind. The world around him fades into background noise as he works. Only the sound of you calling his name breaks him out of his momentary lock, a mixture of exasperation and excitement surging through him. You’re standing in front of him now, bouncing on the heels of your feet.
“Can you sharpen my sword too?”
“Your weapon is your responsibility,” Vergil says without missing a beat.
You clasp your hands together and give him a pleading look, doe-like eyes glimmering with playfulness. “Please? I’ll stop sneaking out for snack breaks. For a week. I can’t do longer than that.”
He gives you a disapproving look, but you don’t give up. Normally, he’d say no, but your weaponized charm is more effective than he’d like to admit. He lets out a sigh and sets the Yamato aside, freeing the space on his lap.
“Fine. Hand it over.”
“Yay!” you squeal, throwing your arms around his neck and hugging him briefly. He stiffens under your touch, which you’re presumably oblivious to as you let go. “I’ll come back for it later! I’m going for a snack run.”
At his silence, you sputter. “I’m abstaining from snacks for a week. I need to have all I can get or I’ll go through withdrawals.”
You bat your eyelashes at him and skip away, already out the door before he can say anything else.
The memory of your arms around him replays in his mind. Your softness, your warmth. The comfort with which you went for him. He wants to chide you for being so casual with you, but he can’t quite bring himself to do it. Not when he’s realized recently that he likes it.
He lets out another sigh and begins to work on your blade. You’ve occupied his thoughts for too long.
—
Summer has come.
The sun is out. The concrete is scalding. The fans are being used so much that their dull thrumming has become a familiar sound. Vergil has had to trade his usual vest and coat for something lighter, a simple short-sleeved shirt he bought in a pack. Even his boots had to be replaced by a plain pair of loafers instead.
He’s engrossed in his book when you walk into the office with a bright smile. A chorus of ‘hey’ and ‘hello’ rings throughout the room. The background chatter resumes, then he feels the couch sink under your weight, causing him to stop for a moment.
“How come you didn’t say hi to me?”
As soon as he sees you, his mouth dries up.
You’re wearing a strappy top and a pair of shorts. Not the most scandalous choice of clothing—people’s fashion has changed with the times. It suits you, but it still reveals a lot of your skin, which he is not used to at all. He pointedly keeps his gaze on your face, fighting back the urge to sneak glances at your exposed décolletage and legs.
“I was… distracted.”
You scoff. “You? Distracted. Can’t be.”
He says your name with mild exasperation. “You’re hardly dressed.”
“These are clothes!” You look down, torn between confusion and offense.
“Barely.”
“You’re just like Paulie. He gets insufferable when he sees women dressed like me.”
Paulie. That’s a name he doesn’t recognize. There’s a bitter taste on his tongue, lingering with its unwelcome effects.
Seemingly having noticed his confusion, you clarify, “He’s a, um, fictional character. I’m not going to introduce you to another person without telling you first.”
He’s relieved. “I see.”
“Anyway, it’s weird seeing you in a sleeveless shirt,” you point out. “Isn’t it hot in Hell? Aren’t you used to it?”
“You’re from a country near the equator. Heat is also normal for you.” He eyes you up and down. “And yet here you are.”
“I’ve been in the sun all day! I bet you can’t even do that,” you huff haughtily, placing your hands on your hips and puffing up your chest. “You probably get blinded and dissolve into ash as soon as you open the curtains in the morning.”
“I do not. I am not a vampire.”
“Are you sure? You look like one.”
“I am not.”
“Okay, come stand with me in the sun then. Whoever passes out first loses.”
“Do you always have these childish ideas in your head?” he deadpans.
“So you’re chicken.”
His eye twitches. “I can handle the sun.”
It’s a string of unexpected events and impulsive decisions that lead him to stand in the courtyard with you. The sun’s flares threaten to invade his eyesight, its heat bombarding his body. It’s much hotter than he expected it to be. The sun’s rays fully assaulted him through the clear, uncovered windows, and it’s much worse outside.
You give him a confident look. “Game on, Vergil.”
He’s questioning himself for taking on your challenge. Why he continues to entertain you and your nonsensical whims is beyond him. Saying ‘no’ to you feels like a formidable task that even he can’t undertake. Irked, he stands proud and tall, brows furrowed from the brightness.
Then, you start swaying. Your skin turns deathly pale.
His swift reflexes help him catch you when you collapse, breath uneven and face dazed. There’s a sinking feeling in his heart, like shackles are anchoring him down in the farthest of depths.
Foolish girl.
With a sigh, he carries you back inside, ignoring the knowing look Dante gives him when he passes by. He gently lays you down on the couch, a worried frown lingering on his face. He moves quickly, automatically. He moves the fan closer to where you’re seated. He brings you a glass of cold water. He awkwardly looms over you, unsure if he should leave you here and go back to his business.
Somehow, he can’t bring himself to do it.
“Boo, I lost,” you sigh, slumping against the cushions. “Oh well, at least that proves my hypothesis wrong. You’re not a vampire. You weren’t lying.”
How you can still be so talkative and treat your health as a trivial matter makes him want to chide you to the ends of the earth.
“Stay here,” he says simply. “Don’t move.”
You weakly salute him. “Yes, sir.”
He tentatively takes a seat at the opposite end of the couch, watching you dutifully. Your breathing has gotten steadier now and the color has returned to your face. You shakily push yourself up, leaning back on the palms of your hands. Seeing you come back to normal makes the weight on his shoulders so much lighter for reasons he doesn’t want to begin to go through.
“You don’t have to stay,” you rasp. “I bounce back fast.”
“You’ll force yourself if I leave you alone.” That, and as painful as it is to admit, he’s worried about you. “I need to make sure you don’t do anything foolish.”
Your lips curve into a smile. “Keep that up and I’ll start thinking you have a crush on me, Vergil.”
Maybe he does.
—
“You know other women?” you ask, embarrassingly incredulously with exaggerated devastation. “How could you do this to me?”
He doesn’t know what to say at first. He’s well aware that you’re joking, but he can’t help but feel as though there’s some truth to her words. So, honestly, he tells you, “There’s only you.”
He’s the one who catches you off guard this time. Your lips part but no words come out, just broken syllables and confused sounds. You regain your composure soon enough, giving him a soft smile. “Are you trying to tell me something?”
He clears his throat, trying to act like blood isn’t rushing straight to his cheeks. “I’m saying I don’t look at anyone else but you.”
You strut towards him, hands wrung behind your back as you peer up at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes. Like you’ve been proven correct about something. Like you’ve won. He stubbornly keeps eye contact, feigning indifference when you tilt your head to the side. The gesture makes you look like you’re in a state of pure wonder, innocent and curious like a fawn.
“So you like me?” you continue, hopeful. “Is that what you’re saying?”
How can one person reduce him to such a state so effortlessly?
“Yes,” he breathes out, as if it pains him to say. It sort of does. There’s an ache in his chest, craving to be close to you—craving you and you alone, so you can share your life with him. Be with him. “I do.”
You bring him down by the collar of his shirt, fingers curled around the fabric. He goes still. The fact that you’re so close can only mean one thing.
But then you kiss the corner of his mouth and pull away with a playful grin, pinching his cheek affectionately.
“The food’s probably here by now. We should go back inside,” you say cheerily, then reach for his hand. You’re much smaller and softer than he is, and it makes him hold on to you tighter out of instinct. Protecting. Keeping you close. “Come on, before they eat everything and leave nothing for us.”
He doesn’t leave your side the entire time.
—
A few days have passed since that moment, and not once has Vergil stopped thinking about how addictive the feeling of your lips against his skin was.
It changes something in him. He feels less… intimidating, so much so that the others have begun to mention it. Starting with Dante, who, in typical Dante fashion, teases him as soon as he notices it.
“Something happened between you and little Miss Sunshine, didn’t it?” he goads, smirking from where he’s sitting. He’s dangerously balancing the chair he’s sitting on while his feet are comfortably propped up on the desk.
Vergil hopes that he’ll fall back and hit his head one of these days. Maybe it could fix whatever is wrong with his brain.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He turns to another page of his book. “Stay out of my business, Dante.“
He ignores his warning. As usual. “So was it a good thing or a bad thing?”
“Ask me again and I’ll kill you.”
“Fine,” he groans. “You’re no fun. I don’t get why she likes you.”
Then, it’s Nero—his own son who he’s still building his relationship with—that brings it up when they’re alone. It catches him off guard, considering they don’t have much to talk about (or rather, much that they are willing to talk about).
“Did, uh, did something happen between you and her?”
His eye twitches. “Did Dante put you up to this?”
“What? No,” Nero scoffs. “Everyone can see it. You’re so obviously in love with each other.”
“I do not wish to discuss my love life with you, Nero.”
He grins, pleased that he caught the bait. “Your love life?”
Vergil takes in a deep breath and sighs, closing his eyes in chagrin. He’d like to think he’s mellowed out with age—he’s not hot-headed or impatient anymore. But it stings his pride that he always falls for the bait that the crew throws his way, even more so when they actually manage to get on his nerves.
“This conversation is over.”
He snorts. “Alright, man. Whatever you say.”
When the others mention your name, he acts like he doesn’t hear it. Not because he’s ashamed of his relationship with you, but because he doesn’t want to entertain them. It makes him wonder if being insufferably nosy is one of the qualifications for being in the Devil May Cry crew. He tries to pay it no mind, instead continuing with his life. Keeping up sparring with you, accompanying you while you run errands, watching your back during combat. Listening to you ramble about your favorite things and lending an ear when you have complaints. It’s not things he does for just anyone, but something about you just draws him in.
And, in a way that no one expected, he doesn’t mind it at all.
He’s started to seek you out, texting you blurry photos of things he sees that remind him of you. He looks at his phone more often, much to his dismay, considering how distracting he thinks it is. He picks up the phone after two rings, and if he doesn’t, he calls back as soon as he’s free.
It’s… new. Refreshing.
Something to look forward to, especially after all that he’s been through.
His phone vibrates with a notification. Quickly inserting a bookmark and setting the book aside, he picks it up.
Vergil I cooked some food. come over and eat
I have a movie i want to show you :)
if you’re not busy, of course
you don’t have to say yes!
also just letting you know if you do come over, you don’t have to bring anything. Just yourself is enough. Xo
He’s almost offended that you think he’d ever say no to you. After an arduously long moment of scrolling, he finally responds:
I’m on my way. 👍
Ignoring the knowing looks sent his way when he leaves, he makes his way to your home. His heart is pounding, threatening to burst out of his chest. Normally, you’re the one who comes to him. This time, he’s the one coming to you. His stomach flutters—nervous, he’s nervous. His mind races with what feels like a thousand possibilities. Would you greet him with a smile, or would you be somber? Would you welcome him with open arms like you always do?
He stops in front of your apartment. His finger finds the doorbell and it rings within, loud enough for him to be able to hear it from outside. It doesn’t take long before the door opens, revealing you standing there, looking so elated to see him.
“Hi!”
“Good evening,” he says.
You step aside to let him in. The apartment smells like jasmine and herbs, an amalgamation of spices he doesn’t quite recognize. After he took his shoes off, you lead him to the dining table where dinner is waiting, hot and steaming. He sits down across from you, tensing up when his foot accidentally brushes against yours. You don’t seem to notice, eagerly waiting for him to take a bite.
“It’s my mom’s recipe.” Your fingers wiggle in excitement. “It might be different from what you’re used to, but I really wanted you to try it… okay, I just realized I’m making it sound like you’re my lab rat. You’re not! I really did want you over for dinner.”
The flavors burst on his tongue, savory and fulfilling. Silverware clinks against the dishes as you eat in a comfortable quiet. He chews slowly, trying to memorize everything he’s tasting.
“I haven’t had this before,” he brings up, wanting to see your reaction. “It’s my first time trying it.”
Your eyes turn hopeful. “Do you like it?”
“I do.”
You grin at him and turn away, seemingly flustered. A nervous chuckle leaves you. “I’m glad. I was worried you’d hate it.”
He doesn’t even think he’s capable of hating anything that has to do with you. It pains him that you’re so unaware of it. Or maybe you still doubt him, layers upon layers of defenses surrounding your heart. He’ll make it through, eventually, just like you’ll make it through his.
“What did you want to show me?” he asks.
You beam. “Roman Holiday. It’s from nineteen fifty-three.”
Another thing he knows about you by soul. Your love for cinema and the same handful of movies you always come back to because they bring you happiness. He doesn’t ask anything else, wanting to see for himself.
When you’re finished eating, you urge him to wait in the living room while you tidy up. A few minutes later, you come back with a small plate of brownies.
“I learned how to make these today,” you say shyly. “Do you want to try one?”
He does. The brownie is a little too sweet for his liking, but he finishes what you gave him anyway. You fiddle with the remote and start the movie, comfortably nestling into your side of the couch. A blanket is sprawled over your legs as you hug the pillow close to your chest, wiggling in pure giddiness.
“I don’t know if you’ll like it, but I still wanted to show it to you.” You bite down on your bottom lip, timidly fidgeting in your place. “I thought you could use a break from all the sci-fi and action we’ve been watching.”
The movie starts. It’s a romantic comedy, shot in black and white. It feels timeless. The more he sees it, the more he thinks about how it makes sense that you like it. It suits you perfectly. You try not to talk over the dialogue, though you can’t help but bring up trivia you learned or commentary you have every now and then. He listens to it all. You’re here, so dear to him, and he realizes that he wants to know everything that you love.
“You were great back there!”
“You weren’t too bad yourself.”
The man abruptly kisses the woman. Music plays over the sound of running water in the fountain, adding a dream-like effect to the scene. Vergil is silent, thoughtful. Then, his gaze drifts over to you, just like how it always does. You’re clutching your pillow, toes curled, eyes wide and hopeful and filled with wonder. You’re fully immersed in the movie and he can practically see you swooning. It makes warmth blossom across his chest, makes his fingers twitch by his sides, itching to reach out for you.
He clears his throat before he says your name quietly. When you don’t reply, he tries again. This time, you turn to him with curious eyes.
“What’s up?”
He doesn’t talk for a moment. Debates with himself whether he should say what he’s been thinking for the past week or not. In the end, he swallows his pride and breathes out—
“You didn’t give me a proper kiss.”
That seems to please you. You give him a delighted smile, looking so soft in the glow of the television screen. “I did kiss you,” you say innocently. “Have you forgotten?”
“Not where I wanted you to,” he finds himself saying.
Your eyes widen, and so does your smile, a chuckle leaving your lips at how demanding he sounds. You feign a dramatic sigh and slowly crawl towards him, closer and closer until your face is only inches away from his. The coy look on your face makes him feel like his heart is stuck in his throat.
“Then show me where you want to be kissed.”
He stares at you, surprised at the sudden boldness. You stare back at him with a devilish glint in your eyes, leaving him entranced by your wiles once again. He takes in a deep breath, unsure of what to do when you’re so, so close. Satisfied with the state you’ve left him in, you let out a giggle before cupping the side of his face and kissing him properly this time.
It takes a moment before he kisses back, tilting his head to deepen it. His eyelids flutter shut and his hand comes up to clasp yours, feeling your warm skin beneath his touch. You’re soft and you taste like sugar, exactly how he imagined it. When you part for air, you look at him with so much adoration and amusement that it leaves him at a loss for words.
“Was that good enough for you?”
“Again.”
You burst into laughter. He swoops down to kiss you again, placing his hand on the back of your neck. The movie has gone forgotten. You’re still smiling, melting into him as he finally, finally gets what he’s been craving all this time. You pull away, lacing your fingers with his as you thoroughly enjoy the moment.
“You do like me,” you giggle, giddy as if you haven’t been the one deliberately working hard to steal his heart. “I’m just so irresistible, right?”
You’re joking, but Vergil takes it completely seriously.
“You are.”
That makes your breath hitch. You soften and caress the back of his hand with your thumb, peering up at him like he’s a masterpiece you made. He thought he had renounced all these human feelings a long time ago, but you bring it out of him just by being yourself. More than that, he really doesn’t mind it at all—he almost wants to say he welcomes it. He’ll welcome anything if it’s coming from you.
“So… What do you want to do now?”
He swallows, the action subtle and imperceptible. “I would like to spend more time with you… If that’s acceptable.”
“I’d like that too,” you whisper, smiling softly. “You’re stuck with me now, Vergil.”
Could I perchance request Law(and other OP men if u want to..) with quiet reader who isn't good with words/physical affection so they "flirt" with excessive acts of service,, like literally does not let him lift a finger in their presence, opening doors for him, making him coffee, giving him their scarf etc. And like they don't do this for anyone else.
Oddly specific but erhm to be delusional is to be free. LOVEDD the insecurities series btw I've been going down a rabbit hole of ur fics they're all so good its got me reading x readers of characters I usually don't read
a/n: Thank you for enjoying my fanfics! I am really happy that you get to read other characters that you don't usually read! Technically I wanted to add more, but I felt like the whole post would be long (maybe more parts in the future?) so I hope you enjoy the fic!
Let me handle it for you. [One Piece x quiet! gn! reader]
You weren't good with words or physical affection, so when they decided to do acts of service only meant for you, you didn't know how to respond to that.
tags: one piece x reader (seperate scenarios), different acts of services, fluff, gn! reader, quiet! reader, law x reader, luffy x reader.
ave's corner of masterlist
i. Trafalgar Law [Right where you need me.]
You learned pretty quickly that Law moved like he had already mapped every corridor in his head. Every step was efficient and every pause was purposeful. He was a man who didn't waste motion.
Which was why the first time he wasted motion on you, you almost didn't know what to do with it.
It started small.
You reached for the medbay door. It was heavy, vacuum-sealed and very stubborn. You were going to set your hand on the handle, but the door opened before you could even press.
Law didn't look at you when he did it. He didn't say anything either. He just palmed the control panel, slid aside and let you pass like it was nothing.
You paused as you were half-turned in the doorway, unsure whether to say 'thank you' or 'what was that'.
Words were never your strongest weapon, because they often got stuck on the way out and ended up tangled into awkward lumps in your throats.
Law's eyes flicked up from his clipboard. "...Are you coming in or are you going to stand there until I retire?" he asked with a deadpanned expression.
You blinked, then obediently stepped inside so you weren't bothering your captain even further.
And because he was Law, he pretended he had never opened the door for you at all.
It seemed that the crew noticed before you did. Shachi leaned against the wall one evening, watching you attempt to carry a box of medical supplies that was too big for you to carry. In your defense, it wasn't that big.
"Hey, you need a hand?" he offered as he was already on the way to reach out, but you shook your head.
The truth was that you didn't like being touched. It wasn't because you disliked him or the others or people in generally. You just didn't know what to do with it. Like where to put your hands or how long to hold and when to let go.
You were all sharp corners and hesitations like a cat that had never been petted without consequences. You tried to lift the box again when a shadow suddenly fell over you.
Law appeared from nowhere with one hand already under the box. He lifted it like it weighed nothing.
"No", he said simply as if he gave you and Shachi the obvious answer to the situation. He was indeed not giving you the obvious answer.
Shachi's eyebrows shot up. "No what?"
You stared after him as you were now empty-handed.
"I was going to help", Shachi said in a wounded tone and Law didn't even turn around as he replied with: "You help by staying out of my way".
In the background there was Penguin who whistled low from the other end of the hall. "Captain's got it bad".
You pretended you didn't hear. It was mostly because you weren't sure what that meant, but also because your face was suddenly too warm.
From that situation, it escalated like Law had decided your daily existence was an inconvenience he was personally responsible for eliminating.
You woke up to your coffee already made. It wasn't just made. It was made the way you liked it. It wasn't too sweet, but not overly bitter either. It was also warm enough to thaw your hands when the sea air got cruel.
You looked around the galley with a big question mark above your head. Bepo blinked at you over his mug. "Captain said you'd forget to eat again", he explained like that solved everything.
You held the cup in both hands. You had actually forgotten.
Later, you tried to wash your own mug, but a hand slid between you and the sink. There were gloved fingers taking the cup from your grasp.
"Don't", Law said.
You stared at him. "I can-", you tried to say, but he cut you off with a slight glare at you.
Law's eyes narrowed. There was a slight crack in his composure as if something dangerously tender was trying to slip through.
"I know", he said quietly. "That's not the point".
You swallowed as your brain offered you fifty possible responses, yet your mouth delivered none of them. So you simply... stood there while he washed your mug.
Law dried it with a towel and put it back in the cabinet on the shelf at eye-level that was easy reachable for you.
Then he left like he hadn't just rearranged his entire evening around a cup you could have cleaned yourself.
But even though he did all of that, you tried to fix it. You didn't want to be a burden and you didn't want to be someone that needed handling. You hated the idea of taking up too much space.
So the next time you caught him making your coffee, you reached for the kettle first.
Law's hand closed over yours before you could even touch the handle.
It wasn't a grab. It wasn't rough. It was just... a stop.
You both froze like the contact surprised him as much as it did you. His thumb pressed lightly to the back of your hand through his glove. It felt warm.
You stared at where you were connected. Law's voice came out a fraction lower than usual. "You're going to burn yourself", he said.
"I won't", you managed to say that back to him, but your voice was quiet.
"You will", he insisted. "You get distracted".
You did. That was true. Your thoughts had a habit of drifting out to sea that left your body to follow on autopilot.
Law's grip tightened just slightly, like he was anchoring you to the present. "Let me", he said.
You wanted to ask him why. You wanted to say you don't have to. You wanted to thank him in a way that felt like it could actually reach him.
Instead, you did what you always did when emotion got too big in your chest.
With a slight blush on your cheeks, you just nodded and Law exhaled like he had been holding his breath. Then he released your hand and finished the coffee with steady movements.
He set the mug in front of you. You seemed to hover over it uncertain, which made Law to glance up over the rim of his own cup.
"...You can at least drink it", he said as if he were annoyed. As if he hadn't just looked at you like you were something unbreakable he had decided to protect anyway.
You just wrapped your hands around the mug as the warmth welcomed your fingers. He had made it perfect again.
The night the ship hit rough waters, you learned the final form of his flirting. You were in the corridor when the Polar Tang rolled hard. You stumbled, trying to catch yourself on the wall.
Before you could right yourself, Law was there.
He didn't touch you immediately. He hesitated and that was what got you.
Law, who never hesitated with scalpels or strategies, had his eyes swept over you like a scan to check for injuries. For pain. For anything he could fix.
Then, carefully like he was approaching a skittish animal, he slid his coat off his shoulders and held it out.
You stared at it. Law's voice was a rough murmur. "Put it on".
You blinked. "But I'm not-".
"You're cold", he cut in. The truth was that you were actually cold. The kind of cold that sank into your bones and made your hands tremble.
But warming yourself up with... his coat?
It was too intimate. Too much and too close to him. You didn't know how to accept something like that. You didn't know how to hold it without it turning into a confession.
Law's jaw flexed as he just said: "It's just fabric". He sounded like he was scolding you for overthinking.
In fact, he was wrong about it being just fabric. It smelled like him. It was the smell of antiseptic, smoke and something dark yet steady beneath it all.
You reached out slowly. Your fingers were brushing the edge of the coat. Law's hand tightened on it, not letting go of it yet.
His gaze locked onto yours. "You don't have to say anything", he said quietly. "I'm not doing this for a thank you".
You could feel your heart stutter for a second. You tried to let any words out, but nothing came out.
Frustration flared behind your eyes. You disliked this part of yourself. The part that couldn't translate feeling into language. The part that made affection a locked door you didn't have the key for.
Law's expression softened barely, but you could see it. He stepped closer and very carefully draped the coat over your shoulders himself.
The weight settled around you like a shield. He didn't brush your skin, nor did he trap you. He just adjusted the collar so it wouldn't slip.
His gloved knuckles grazed your jaw by accident, which made you flinch. Not away, but it startled you a bit.
That got Law to immediately pull back like you had burned him. "I'm sorry", he said.
Your throat tightened. You didn't want him to be sorry. You didn't want him to retreat. Your hand lifted before you could overthink it. It was slow and filled with hesitation, but you were able to catch the edge of his sleeve.
It was just a tiny hold, like a gentle anchor.
Law went still. His eyes dropped to where your fingers clung. Then, he slowly turned his hand palm up between you.
It wasn't a demand, but rather an offer. You stared at his open palm like it was a bridge you didn't know how to cross. Your fingers hovered and you both could see them trembling.
You placed your hand in his.
Law's grip was careful. It was controlled as if he was handled something precious and didn't trust himself not to ruin it.
He didn't squeeze. He just held. And for the first time, you didn't feel like you had to find the right words to deserve it.
Law's thumb brushed your knuckles softly once. His voice was quiet enough that the storm nearly swallowed it.
"...There", he said. "That's good".
You swallowed with eyes stinging.
You couldn't say 'I like you'. You couldn't say 'Please don't stop'. You couldn't say 'This means everything'.
So you did the only thing you could.
You held his hand back.
And Trafalgar Law, a man of sharp edges and careful cruelty, stayed exactly where you needed him.
ii. Monkey D. Luffy [I got you.]
Luffy was loud. It wasn't always with his voice, but with his presence as well. Like the world was something he could hug with both arms if he tried hard enough. It was like he belonged everywhere he put his feet.
You weren't like that.
You were the quiet space in a room. You were like the soft pause between jokes. The person who listened more than spoke because speaking felt like trying to swallow the sun.
Even though you were like that, the crew liked you anyway. Of course they did, because the Straw Hats loved things wholeheartedly and you were no exception.
But Luffy? Luffy loved you like it was a mission.
And because you didn't do words and physical affection well, Luffy somehow figured out the one language you did understand.
He stopped letting you do anything alone.
It began the first morning you joined them. You shuffled into the galley half-awake with your hair being a mess and soul hovering somewhere else but your body. When you tried to reach for the kettle, Luffy was already there plopping a steaming cup in front of you like it had appeared by magic.
"There!" he announced. "Drink!"
You blinked at the cup. "I... didn't ask".
"You looked like you wanted it", he said like that was the only logic needed. You stared down at the drink. It wasn't fancy. It was just warm with enough sweetness. It was giving comfort in liquid form.
"Thanks", you tried to say. Luffy just gave out a huge and bright grin while leaning on the table like a golden retriever waiting for praise.
You froze on the spot, since compliments made you panic. Gratitude made you fumble, while affection made you glitch. Your mouth opened, but your brain just offered static.
Luffy waited. You just nodded awkwardly and took a sip.
That alone made him beam like you had just confessed your eternal devotion to him and said: "Okay, good!" in a satisfied tone.
And then he bolted outside like his job was done.
You could say Luffy's flirting was... relentless. It wasn't the pet names or smooth lines. Luffy didn't do subtle very well.
He did 'service'. He did 'showing up'. He did 'making sure you were okay' with the intensity of someone protecting a treasure he had decided was his.
You tried to carry groceries once. Luffy snatched the bags with a "I got it!"
Even if you tried reaching out, he was just showing the entire haul onto his shoulders and bounced down the stairs like it was nothing. "Luffy-" "I GOT IT!"
In the background was just the rest of the crew quietly complaining how he never did it for them. "I think you're his favourite", Usopp whispered dramatically which made you to nearly choke.
Suddenly you saw Luffy pop his head back into the galley. "You need more stuff?" he asked with a smile, but you just shook your head with slight embarrassment.
One afternoon, you sat on the deck with a book. You weren't reading. The pages were open, but your eyes kept drifting along with the calm sea and the warm air.
Peace was a fragile thing for you. You never wanted to move too suddenly and scare it away.
A shadow fell across your page which made you glance up. It was Luffy holding your jacket.
Your jacket, which you had left inside because you didn't think you would need it. "You forgot this", he said serious.
"I didn't-", you tried to say but got cut off by Luffy.
"You always get cold later", Luffy insisted.
You just stared at him confused. "How do you-".
"I pay attention", he said like it was obvious. Like noticing you was as natural as breathing. Your chest tightened in a way that made you want to look away.
Luffy sat beside you without asking. He was close enough that your shoulder brushed his arm, which made you to stiffen automatically.
Luffy didn't move closer though, since he didn't want to force contact. He just simply draped the jacket over your lap and then leaned back with his hands behind his head like it was the most casual thing in the world.
You swallowed and felt the wind pick up. The jacket blocked it.
You didn't know how to say 'thank you' in a way that felt big enough. So you did what you did best and that was staying.
Luffy hummed contentedly as he stared at the clouds. After a few minutes, he asked: "Are you hungry?"
It took you a couple seconds before shaking your head slightly. "Not really", you said.
Luffy's stomach growled loudly right after you said that and he gave you a sheepishly grin. "Well, I am".
You almost smiled, like almost.
Luffy jolted upright like he had seen a treasure map. "Wait here! I'll get you food!"
You sat up. "Luffy, I said-", but before those words could even reach to him, he was already gone. You sighed helplessly.
Five minutes later, he returned with a plate of snacks and a cup of something warm. "I got you tea!" he declared proudly. "And crackers! And also meat for me".
You stared at the tea he just got you. It was also... the kind you liked. The one you had mentioned once quietly, in passing when Sanji asked what you wanted. Luffy had remembered.
He shoved the cup into your hands. "Drink!"
You hesitated for a bit, but took it. Luffy watched you like it mattered.
You took a sip and the warmth spread through you. You could see that Luffy's grin softened into something gentler. Something almost shy.
"See?" he said quieter. "Good".
The problem with Luffy was that he was all heart and that was dangerous for someone like you.
Because one late night, after a long day, you found yourself alone on the deck. You were staring at the stars with too many thoughts and not enough words. You didn't realise someone had joined you until a specific Straw Hat shadow fell over your hands.
Luffy sat beside you with his knees pulled up. He didn't speak for a while. He just existed next to you. The silence wasn't empty.
Then he held out something.
It was a blanket. You stared at it.
"You looked sad", Luffy said simply. Your throat tightened. You weren't sure you 'were' sad. You were just... full. You were full of feeling you couldn't translate.
Luffy draped the blanket around you anyway. Then after a pause, he offered you a skewered dumpling he had stolen from the kitchen.
"You stole that", you whispered as you pointed at the skewer.
Luffy just grinned. "Yeah".
You stared at the dumpling and then at him. Luffy's expression softened when his eyes met yours. "You don't have to talk", he said. "But you can eat".
You huffed a quiet breath that might have been a laugh if you were brave. You took the dumpling and Luffy watched pleased like he had solved the most impossible puzzle in the world.
Then he reached up slowly and tapped your shoulder with one finger. The motion was a question. It wasn't touch exactly, nor was it forced. It was just a 'Can I?'.
You froze. Your body wanted to flinch. Your brain wanted to run, but you saw that Luffy waited patiently. He was open and waited there.
Then after a couple silencing moments, you nodded barely which got Luffy to smile like sunrise and very gently leaned his head against your shoulder.
The contact was warm and light. It wasn't trapping. You didn't feel like it was demanding.
It was just there.
Your hands shook. You didn't know where to put them.
So you didn't. You simply held your dumpling and stared at the stars and tried not to breathe too loud.
Luffy sighed happily like he had found home again.
After a moment, he mumbled: "You're really nice".
Your heart lurched. You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. No words, yet Luffy didn't seem to need them.
He nudged your shoulder again with that same gentle insistence. "Stay with us", he said. "With me".
You swallowed hard. And because you couldn't say 'yes' the way you wanted... You just leaned, just slightly, into the warmth of his head on your shoulder.
Luffy made a quiet, satisfied sound. "Okay", he whispered like he understood you perfectly.
And the stars kept shining with the sea breathing underneath as Luffy's devotion wrapped around you like a blanket you didn't have to earn.
thinking about Law and Strawhat!reader on the way to Wano
his crew picks up that their captain is closer to you in a way that uncharacteristic. is it me or is captain glued to their side? they whisper.
the way his eyes linger on you during the festivities, like if he looks away, you'll disappear immediately. the way you immediately take his bread roll from his plate and he doesn't even flinch.
when packing up the Polar Tang for Wano, Law is immediately in captain mode. barking orders and checking maintenance updates three times over. he's telling Ikkaku to show the Straw Hats to their communal sleeping quarters.
until you step on board, and he immediately takes your bags from your hands. for you, he tells Ikkaku to show you to the captain's quarters. he quickly glances at you and with his slight nod, you know he's telling you make yourself at home.
the crew clutches their pearls at this.
and at supper, Law accompanies you while getting your food. he's immediately putting things that he knows you'll like onto your plate. he's filling your cup with your favorite drink and at perfect temperature. you don't have to lift a finger.
while eating, he has his arm draped across the back of your chair as you talk with your crew and his. everyone notices how whenever you move, Law isn't far behind.
finally at night, when he's done being captain—when he's done being the Surgeon of Death, Law climbs into his bed where you are already tucked in.
Law holds you and breathes in your scent. he toys with the idea of asking you to join him—to leave the Straw Hats and become a Heart Pirate. he wonders if you'll say yes, but Law cuts that fantasy short.
if you left your family and joined him, you'd be signing yourself up for a life of resentment against the tattooed man. Law would have you, but he wouldn't have your love anymore.
and so Law brushes your hair out of your face, and lets you curl into his neck. he'll gladly take this short window of time with you, to take care of you, and to hold you. he can only hope that he doesn't let go in his sleep.
oh tysm for answering!!♡ would you write a piece for sanji and law (separated) with fem reader where they find out about her sh scars?? like that's something she does when she's down but wants to stop and heal. either they see it accidentally or she mentions it herself, it's all up to you. love you so much take care <333
They find out you have been hurting yourself…
A/N: Hi anon! I know I already replied to your other message about wanting me to add Zoro, so I went ahead and did it just to reconfirm! Hope you enjoy 💛
CW: Angst, hurt/comfort, implied self harm but nothing trigging or descriptive. Click here to know how the fics are written before reading them. 
One Piece Masterlist
~
Blackleg Sanji x fem!reader
Sanji noticed it by accident.
Not because he was looking—he never looked in ways that might make someone uncomfortable—but because he was always attentive. A cook had to be. He noticed small things. A flinch. A pause. The way you tugged your sleeve down a second too late when the sun hit just right.
It happens on a quiet afternoon in the kitchen — the kind where the ship rocks lazily and the sun spills through the windows in warm stripes. You’re helping him prep vegetables, sleeves pushed up because it’s warm, because you weren’t thinking, because today felt… normal.
Sanji turns to ask you something — something small, something about seasoning — and the words die in his throat.
His eyes drop to your arm.
For a moment, he doesn’t breathe.
Not because he’s judging.
Not because he’s angry at you.
But because something inside him cracks so sharply he feels it in his ribs.
He steps closer, slow, like he’s afraid to startle you.
“…Y/N,” he says, voice barely above a whisper.
You freeze. You know what he saw. You know there’s no hiding it now.
His hands hover near your arms but don’t touch — not until you nod, giving him permission. Only then does he gently, carefully, cradle your forearm in both hands, thumbs brushing over skin like he’s holding something precious and breakable.
“These are old,” you murmur, trying to steady your voice. “I’m… I’m trying to stop. I want to stop.”
Sanji’s breath shudders out of him.
He pulls you into his chest so suddenly you gasp — not from fear, but from how tightly he holds you, how fiercely protective he feels. His hand cups the back of your head, the other wraps around your shoulders like he’s shielding you from the whole world.
“How long has this been going on?”
His voice is soft, but there’s a tremor beneath it — heartbreak, worry, and a quiet anger he’s directing entirely at himself.
You tell him. Not every detail. Just enough.
He listens like every word is sacred.
When you finish, he presses his forehead to yours, eyes shining with emotion he’s trying so hard to keep steady.
“Y/N… my love… you should never have had to carry something like this alone.” His thumb wipes a tear from your cheek before it can fall. “I’m so sorry I didn’t notice sooner. I should have. I should have been there.”
You shake your head, but he gently cups your face, guiding your gaze back to him.
“No. I’m not blaming you,” he says softly. “I’m blaming me. Because you deserve someone who sees you. Someone who notices when you’re hurting. Someone who holds you before you ever feel like hurting yourself.”
He kisses your forehead — slow, lingering, reverent.
You looked away. “I just… didn’t want to worry you.”
Sanji’s jaw clenched, and for a moment he pressed the heel of his hand to his eyes like he was fighting something back — anger, grief, helplessness. But when he looked at you again, his expression was soft. Devastated, but soft.
“Worrying about you isn’t a burden,” he said quietly. “It’s a privilege.” He cupped your cheek with a hand so gentle it almost hurt. “You don’t have to smile for me. You don’t have to pretend. If you’re hurting, I want to know. I want to be someone you can come to, not someone you hide from.”
Your eyes tear up as you clung to him, breathing in the scent of spices and smoke and something uniquely Sanji — comfort, safety, devotion.
His hand stroked your back slowly. “When it gets heavy, you come find me. I don’t care if I’m cooking, cleaning, fighting, bleeding — I will always make time for you.”
Your voice shook. “I don’t want to be a problem.”
“You’re not a problem.” He pressed a kiss to your temple, lingering. “You’re someone I love. And people you love… you take care of them. You hold them through the dark. You remind them they deserve gentle things.”
You closed your eyes, letting yourself melt into him.
“And Y/N?” he murmured, pulling back just enough to look you in the eyes. “We’ll find better ways to cope. Together. I’ll help you. I’ll listen. I’ll stay. Whatever you need.”
“Thank you.”
“No need to thank me sweetheart, it’s my job to love and care for you.” He said pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 
He holds you until your breathing evens out.
Until the kitchen feels warm again.
Until the weight in your chest feels a little lighter.
And when he finally pulls back, he smiles — gentle, earnest, full of love.
“Now,” he says, brushing a stray hair behind your ear, “let me cook something comforting for you. Something warm. Something sweet. Something that reminds you how precious you are.”
Because that’s Sanji.
He can’t erase the past.
But he’ll spend every day helping you build a softer future.
~
Trafalgar Law x fem!reader
You hadn’t meant for him to see.
It was supposed to be a quick moment — grabbing a clean shirt from the laundry line, the sleeve slipping up your arm for barely a second. But Law’s eyes were sharp in a way that had nothing to do with being a captain and everything to do with being a doctor who cared far too deeply.
His voice didn’t snap or bark. It just… stopped.
“Y/N.”
You froze. The air between you tightened, heavy and fragile all at once. You tugged the sleeve down, but it was too late — he’d already stepped closer, not touching, just there, like he was afraid you’d vanish if he moved too fast.
His gaze wasn’t clinical. Not the detached assessment he used on patients. It was raw, pained, furious — but not at you.
For a long moment, he didn’t speak. When he finally exhaled, it sounded like defeat.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Your throat tightened. “Because I’m trying to stop. I’m trying to get better. I just… didn’t want to be a burden.”
That word hit him like a blade.
His expression shattered — not dramatically, but in the small, devastating ways only someone who knew him well would notice. The slight tremor in his breath. The way his hand hovered, then curled into a fist to keep from reaching for you without permission.
“A burden,” he repeated, voice barely above a whisper. “You think that’s what you are to me?”
You looked away, but he stepped into your line of sight, gentle but unyielding.
“Y/N… I’ve lost too many people to pain they carried alone.” His voice wavered, just once. “I won’t lose you too.”
You felt his fingers brush your wrist — slow, deliberate, giving you every chance to pull away. When you didn’t, he turned your hand over, holding it like something precious, not fragile.
“I’m not angry at you,” he said softly. “I’m angry that you were hurting and thought you had to hide it.”
Your eyes burned. “I didn’t want you to worry.”
“I want to worry about you.” His thumb traced slow circles over your palm, grounding. “That’s what it means to care. That’s what it means to stay.”
He lifted your hand to his chest, pressing it over his heartbeat — steady, warm, real. “This isn’t something you fight alone anymore. Not on my ship. Not in my life.”
Your breath hitched.
He finally pulled you into his arms — slow, careful, like he was afraid you’d break, but holding you firmly enough that you knew you wouldn’t.
His chin rested against your hair. “We’ll take this one step at a time. I’ll check in with you. We’ll talk. We’ll find better ways to cope. And when it gets hard, you come to me. Understand?”
You nodded against him, tears soaking into his coat.
“And Y/N?” His voice softened to something almost unbearably tender. “There’s nothing you could tell me that would make me leave.”
You clung to him, and for the first time in a long time, the weight on your chest felt lighter — not gone, but shared.
And Law held you like he intended to keep sharing it for as long as it took.
~
Roronoa Zoro x fem!reader
You didn’t even realize he’d walked in.
You were sitting on the edge of your bunk, rolling your sleeve back down after changing into a clean shirt. It was supposed to be quick — in, out, no one the wiser. But Zoro had a talent for appearing exactly where you didn’t expect him, especially when you least wanted to be seen.
He stopped in the doorway.
His eyes flicked to your arm, then to your face. No widening, no gasp, no sharp inhale. Just a stillness that felt heavier than any reaction you’d braced for.
“Oi,” he said quietly. “Come here.”
You froze. “Zoro, it’s nothing—”
“Didn’t ask if it was nothing.” His voice was steady, but there was something underneath it — something tight, something that made your chest ache. “I said come here.”
You hesitated, but he didn’t move, didn’t push, didn’t crowd you. He just waited, arms loose at his sides, expression unreadable in that infuriatingly Zoro way.
When you finally stepped closer, he reached out — slow, deliberate — and took your wrist in his hand. His thumb brushed over the edge of your sleeve, not pulling it up, just resting there.
“You’ve been hurting,” he said. Not a question. A truth.
Your throat tightened. “I’m trying to stop. I really am. I just… didn’t want anyone to worry.”
Zoro’s jaw flexed, and for a moment he looked away, like he needed a second to keep himself from breaking something — a wall, a sword, the universe.
When he looked back at you, his voice was low. “You think I don’t want to know when someone I care about is hurting?”
You blinked. “Zoro…”
He stepped closer, closing the distance with that quiet, grounding presence only he had. “I’m not good with words. You know that. I don’t… talk about feelings the way other people do.” His hand tightened around yours, warm and steady. “But I’m not stupid. And I’m not blind. And I’m not letting you deal with this alone.” He let out a breath that sounded like it scraped against something raw inside him. “You’re someone I chose to keep close. Someone I want around.” His voice softened, rough but sincere. “If you’re hurting, I want to know. If you’re struggling, I want to stand next to you. That’s what being close means.”
He tugged you gently forward until your forehead rested against his chest. His arms wrapped around you — strong, protective, steady as stone.
You let out a shaky breath, sinking into him. His heartbeat was slow and solid, like it was anchoring you back into your own body.
Zoro rested his chin on top of your head. “When it gets bad, you come find me. I don’t care if I’m training, sleeping, lost — whatever. You come get me.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I’d rather you wake me up a hundred times than hide this once.”
Your fingers curled into his shirt. “Okay.”
“And if you want help finding better ways to deal with it,” he added, “I’ll help you. Or I’ll sit with you. Or I’ll just hold you like this. Whatever you need.”
You closed your eyes, letting the warmth of him settle into your bones. “Thank you.”
And in his arms — steady, warm, unshakeable — you finally felt like maybe healing wasn’t something you had to do alone.
Trafalgar Law x Fem Reader, one-shot, angst fic Summary: When Law snaps at you for taking a hit in a fight, you retreat and fear the worst, and he goes quiet at the worst possible time.
Word count; 2,000k P1, P2 (here) |Master-List|
Warnings: Depression
A/N: I did NOT expect this to blow up as much as this did, so I wanted to get something out quick! Thank you for all the love, I really appreciate it! Requests will be open soon.
•—•—•—••—•—•—••—•—•—••—•—•—••—•—•
By the time Law had reached you, it was too late. The damage had already been done. When he’d opened the bathroom door, and saw your form lying there by the counter, teary and turned into the cold floor… the wind had been knocked from his chest.
For a moment—only a second, his body had run frigid with a burning guilt. His lips pressed tight, and his shoulders tensed, then, he was at your side in a second.
Kneeling beside Clione, Law scanned your teary expression and gently placed his hand on your bandaged arm, murmuring your name. Your face was pale, and your eyes were sunken. He didn’t deserve to be near you, not even close after what he’d pulled.
Law had misunderstood your silence for a need for space, un-aware that you’d been ashamed with guilt this entire time. Knowing you, you had taken his words personal… god, he should’ve known better. He knew you went quiet when it mattered, especially when you were in pain.
You’re my responsibility. He’d thought, then, and now. And that would never change. “How long?” Law asked, never taking his eyes off your form. “Clione.” He said firmly, when he didn’t respond.
“S-since she woke up, Captain!” Clione muttered, looking down. “We didn’t know it was—“
“This bad?” Ikkaku cut off, her voice soft. She stepped inside the bathroom with Shachi in tow, her arms crossed.
“She hasn’t been eating, Law. Or sleeping.” He stayed quiet, only listening. Still watching you, as his thumb gently brushed over your bicep.
“I don’t know what happened, but you do.”
“Please, help her. Fix it, I don’t care.” Ikkaku spoke, her eyes grew teary as she thought over the last few days. “We just want her back.”
“I will.” Law said, his voice final, yet tender. He didn’t explain what happened, or what he did wrong or why; only taking accountability for his actions.
“I’m sorry, it took me so long too realize.” “Don’t apologize to us, we’re not the one you hurt, Captain.”
“…”
Her words landed with a painfully honest blow, and took all of it. He never sugarcoated anything, he knew this was on him. He just wished someone had told him sooner, but even then, he knew he should’ve seen you in person after that.
It was more than unfair to you.
_________________________________________
By the fifth day, you were still asleep and hooked up to the monitor. You were on IV’s, and Law had never left your side, not even to eat. He wanted to be there for you when you woke, as he knew he hadn’t been there for you then.
He slept in that chair beside you, working, reading, and figuring out how we was going to fix this. Watching you with a solemn expression, in a baggy tank and jeans, he sighed tiredly into his hands.
“I shouldn’t of said any of that, I went too far.” He mumbled, rubbing his eyes. “I don’t expect you to forgive me, but… just, forgive yourself.”
Looking up through his fingers, his eyes softened. “Please.”
The rhythmic sound of your heart monitor ached throughout the room like a constant reminder of what he had done. Regardless, he couldn’t linger on what he should’ve done, he just needed to be there for you, now.
And there weren’t going to be any excuses.
Letting out a deep breath, Law paused as the infirmary door opened with a soft click. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Bepo with a plate of food and a gentle expression.
“Any changes, Captain?” he asked.
Law’s expression told him enough, but he still felt the need to ask. “I see.” Bepo mumbled, “Well, I brought you some food. Please try and eat, otherwise Lavi might kill me.”
With a little laugh, he placed the plate on the infirmary’s bedside table and rested against the wall. “It’ll get better.” He promised, keeping hopeful.
“I think she’ll just need time.” “…”
Law stayed quiet, still tracing your tired features. It’s not that he wasn’t hopeful, he was determined to do everything he could for you… but it never should’ve reached this point.
“I..” When Law hesitated to speak, Bepo’s eyes widened. Was he opening up? He never did that, as he’s always been so calm and closed off…
“I snapped when I shouldn’t have.” Law said, his voice tightening at the end. He rested his face in his palms, elbow placed on his knees… his posture exhausted.
“Oh..” Bepo mumbled, his face dropping. “Is that why..?” “No.” Law admitted. “There’s more.”
“…”
Silence spread throughout the infirmary, and Bepo’s heart ached. Not only for Law, but for you. What had his captain said? You already looked up to him too much, and… Suddenly, the ship’s comms crackled on, and Penguin’s voice ran through.
“Yo, Bepo! We need you in nav, can you be there in a few? Thanks!” With a sharp click, the comms shut off, emitting a tension of unsaid words and feelings throughout the room.
“You can go, I’ll be alright.” Law said, leaning back up. “If you need my help don’t be afraid to ask.”
Bepo’s ears flattened at his captain’s dismissive tone. “Are you sure?” Without hesitation, Law answered. “Yes. I’ll let you and the crew know if anything changes.”
“Ok, well… make sure to eat! Otherwise Lavi threatened to make you a sandwich!” Hurrying out of the infirmary, Bepo looked back to your form one last time before heading out. Oh, he hoped things would resolve between you two… as both the crew and him understood how close you were.
He really hoped that wouldn’t change.
_________________________________________
Coming to, the world was fogged over like the after-shock of a thunderstorm. Your limbs felt heavy, despite the weightless linen blankets draped atop you. Wherever you were, it smelled of antiseptic and… gentle vanilla? Was that one of your candles?
Weakly opening your eyes, the infirmary’s lights were dimmed to a soft glow overhead, and the steady beep of your heart monitor sounded from beside you.
Looking at the black screen, a set of green, white, blue and red vitals drew your attention.
65 36.98*C 98 14 110/85
What? When…
Weakly lifting yourself up, you rubbed your eyes and were pulled to an uncomfortable feeling in your left arm. A plastic needle and medical tape was neatly wrapped around your forearm, not too tight and not too loose. An IV? When did that get put in?
”You’re up.” A deep voice snapped you out of your daze, and you quickly looked up to find Law across the room. He was at the infirmary’s sink, rinsing off a dish under warm running water.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, setting down the plate. It clinked softly against the bottom of the sink, making your heart pang. Flinching at the noise, you hesitated quietly staring off at him.
How… did you feel? You felt tired, sure; exhausted and feeling slow, though that wasn’t anything new. But, what about Law? He was still mad wasn’t he? Why would he be in here, with you?
“I’m… okay.” You mumbled, looking back down. How long had you been out?
Law watched you with a gentle expression, he figured you’d say that. You always assured others, even when you were at your lowest. Slowly, he turned and walked towards your bedside, keeping space. For a second, his eyes flitted over your vitals for self-assurance.
When he moved to sit down at your side, looking over your IV… you braced. He looked up, and locked eyes with you for a moment—yet you quickly looked away.
“I’m not mad, ___.” he said, softly. Watching for your reaction, he saw your hands squeeze. Mentally, he noted you were anxious. God, of course you were.
”I lost my temper, and I said things I shouldn’t have. That is on me, not you.”
As if on cure, your eyes filled with tears. Why was it that you didn’t believe him? And why did hearing that hurt so much? “But.. I..” your voice broke, and you weakly pulled your knees to your chest.
”No, but’s. You didn’t do anything wrong, and you have no reason to apologize.” he murmured, his tone final—as if he believed it with all his heart. You felt at a loss for words, like your world had turned upside down and everything you’d believed was all a lie.
”Y-you were…”
”I was scared.” Law finished, before your mind could spiral.
Looking up, you blurrilly locked eyes with the surgeon. “When you took that hit, and didn’t get back up, I thought I’d lost you… and I didn’t know what to do with myself.”
Tears silently rolled down your cheeks, and Law took a breath, looking you straight in the eyes, and they only shone of warmth, and sympathy.
”You are mine to protect, and you’re mine to care for.” he said, determined. “It was unacceptable what I did, and it will never happen again. I promise.”
Wiping your eyes, you could only sniffle. “But you said I was reckless and—“ a weak sob cut you off, but Law didn’t interrupt. He only listened and let you speak, as you at-least deserved that.
“T-that I’d never learn, I thought you hated me,” you muttered, your voice breaking. At your admission, Law froze. Sharply, his chest ached.
He had said that, but never that he hated you. Hearing that come out of your mouth was like a knife to the chest, and he held his breathing slowly standing from his seat.
“I don’t hate you.”
“B-but I couldn’t talk, and you hate that. And I froze up, n’ I couldn’t say anything and you just kept going—“ As you let out a weak cry, Law slowly lowered himself beside your bed, kneeling to your level. He placed his arms by your knees, looking at you with a concerned expression.
“___, I don’t hate you.” He repeated. “I love you and that will never change, what I said was wrong, and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”
“I thought you said you wouldn’t keep running after me.” Your voice trembled, and you covered your palms over your eyes.
“I did. But it wasn’t meant that way.”
”Then how did you mean it?” You said, hiccuping. “Y-You can’t just expect me to read your mind!”
”I know.” He said. “And I’m sorry.” I’m sorry.
Suddenly, Law’s calloused—yet tender hand, held your wrist and pulled it away to place in your lap. He reached up to wipe your tears with his thumb, gently murmuring your name. “Look at me.”
Sniffling, you looked down and met his eyes. “I didn’t mean to snap…” You whispered.
”I know.” he responded, “But you’re allowed to yell at me. Especially if I’m being an ass.” Letting out a shaky breath, you felt a weak smile grace your lips. It wasn’t often Law tried to make you laugh… but at his genuine attempt you couldn’t help but humor him.
”Alright,” you muttered, “I… thank you, Law.”
Letting out a sigh, Law slowly stood to his feet, still cupping your face. “You shouldn’t have to thank me for apologizing.” He grumbled, more fondly that anything. Eventually he let you go, then gently brushed your hair back.
The surgeon felt you needed to raise your standards, and stick up for yourself—especially with him… yet he knew you didn’t deal with things that way.
“You’re too good for me, ___.” he mumbled under his breath. Like a clueless cat, you blinked owlishly up. “Huh?”
Law tensed, then coughed and pulled his hand away to change the subject.
“Nothing, don’t worry about it.” He said, checking your vitals again. “Are you able to eat something?”
“Uhm, not right now.” You mumbled, resting your head against your knees. “My stomach hurts.” “That’s probably because you haven’t eaten anything.”
“…No.”
“Yes…”
A moment of silence passed, and you turned your head away. “I’ll just go grab you something light.”
Trafalgar Law x Fem Reader, one-shot, angst fic Summary: When Law snaps at you for taking a hit in a fight, you retreat and fear the worst, and he goes quiet at the worst possible time.
Warnings: depression, reader freezes and fawns
Word count 2,140 P1, P2 (Working on…) |Master-List|
A/N: If you’d like to be tagged in P2, lemme know in the comments! I’ve never really written angst before, so idk if this is good…
•—•—•—••—•—•—••—•—•—••—•—•—••—•—•
You never thought your biggest mistake would be protecting the ones you love. Sitting lifeless in the Polar Tang, like a puppet who’d been cut from it’s strings, your silence towards Law is deafening. You stare off at your arms, and your vision blurs, while blood splotches through the cracks of your itchy white bandages.
“Well, are you going to say something?” his voice is final, sounding torn as his back faces you. He’s faced towards his desk, rummaging through useless newspapers and reports. “Or are you just going to pretend this didn’t happen?”
Your heart squeezes. “I—“ your words die in your throat, chapped lips pressing tight. The thought of speaking felt like sandpaper against your tongue, dragging ever so slowly up and across it.
Law crosses his arms, letting out a sigh. He sounds tired as he turns to you, though there isn’t a hint of bite in his tone, only guilt. ”You, what?” he asks, eyes softening. However—in your eyes, his gaze hardens and you feel yourself crumble underneath it.
Swallowing, your mouth opens but nothing sounds. He must be angry. Growing more disappointed by the second, and you can’t help but only assume the worst. Right now, he probably thinks you’re playing a game, ready to throw yourself into danger again and again—recklessly, without a worry.
“___. I’m talking to you.”
I know. Your hands tremble, fisting the sheets. Panicking.
“Can you at-least look at me?” his voice rises, but not in the way you think. Law steps closer, balling his fists against his elbows. The unsteady beep of your monitor rises, and he sighs gently reaching up to pinch his nose.
It’d just be better if you never said anything at all, it’ll all be over soon anyways.
Shame and disappointment lurk, yet Law’s only replaying the moment your heart had stopped, like when you’d taken that hit for him.
”You almost died, and you can’t even talk to me?” he mutters. ”…’
“It was reckless. And you of all people should know that.” His eyes grow to sting, the thought of losing you too much.
”How many times are you gonna end up here in my infirmary, beaten and bloody? I cannot, keep running after you.” I can’t lose you, he thought. You scared me. Why couldn’t it have just been me? You’re my responsibility.
You hate me. I’m a liability.
Law can’t see your face, only your hair that shadows over it. His hands squeeze and fall lifeless to his sides, as if he’s giving up. “You aren’t invincible, and if you can’t see that I don’t know what you will.” his breath shakes.
Beep..Beep.Beep..Beep
Law didn’t say what he thought, he knew it was wrong the moment it had left his mouth. Something sour curdled in his chest, and it left a lingering ache. Truly, he felt he couldn’t protect you if you didn’t let him. But right now, he only wanted to hear your voice—to say something, yet you don’t.
”Fine. I’ll leave you to be.” He murmurs, heading towards the door. He stops as he opens it, as if there’s a slight chance you’ll speak—though you don’t, and he leaves. Ever, so slowly.
“I’ll be in my office.” The infirmary door clicks shut, and the sound of his footsteps haunt you hear him walk down the hall.
Silently, tears begin to fall. You weakly breathe, yet it feels like ice through your lungs. Shaking, you cup your hands to your face and a sob muffles through. You’d felt so afraid, you hadn’t even moved.
And worse, now he hated you.
You didn’t understand that he was terrified of losing you, not knowing how to show his care or love. You knew it was too good to be true, you’d screwed everything up. Just like always.
_________________________________________
The day after is a nightmare for the crew. Law is stuck up in his room, and you won’t eat a thing.
It was out of character for the both of you, not so much Law as he usually resided there when thinking—but more importantly, he hadn’t gone to see you in person.
He’d been keeping an eye on your from afar, always asking whoever has seen you last, always checking on your state and recovery. He figured you needed space, and he’d give you that without a second though, as he worked the same way.
He assumed you didn’t want to see him, as he took your silence for a need of quiet. However, you not eating or speaking wasn’t something he was aware of. At least, not yet anyways.
In truth, you were retreating in on yourself. Taking away your needs in a form of punishment because in a way you felt like you had failed Law.
Ikkaku, Shachi and Hakugan had stopped by your room for lunch, bringing you a sweet snack and filling you in on what had happened while you were out. Least to say—it wasn’t much. Other than law acting like a prick and acting off, nothing else had necessarily happened…
You didn’t say much when they talked to you, and that was what worried them the most. Ikkaku was blunt, but she knew whatever had happened between you and the captain was touchy, so she let it be.
Penguin had no place to say, and Hakugan was much terrified to ask the captain or you what had happened. The crew looked up to Law, yet they couldn’t always agree on how he approached… emotional things.
They still remembered the disaster of a situationship you two had been in, before everything had been resolved and well.
Regardless, you numbly zoned off in conversation, nodding ever so slowly—detached, and saying you were fine even though you clearly weren’t.
“You need to rest,” Ikkaku murmured, gently brushing your hair back as you laid on your side.
“We’ll leave you be. Try to eat when you can.” Her and Clione were the ones to change your bandages, as Law had walked nowhere near your room.
“Mm. I know.” You mumbled, turning your head into your pillow. “I’m trying.”
“I know you are,” she sighed, tucking the blanket higher up your shoulder, “but try to get some real rest, not just laying down like this. Sleep is your best friend, hun.”
“And so if food.” Clione input, cheerfully… yet silence only replied.
Without a response, Ikkaku’s eyes lingered before she quietly gestured Clione to step out. It was heartbreaking to watch. She’d never seen you so out of it, you were always the one to cheer everyone up, even getting Law to crack a smile every now and then.
But, she couldn’t blame you. She didn’t understand exactly what had happened… but she knew you, and just knew.
_________________________________________
By the third day, Law was still keeping his distance. You were struggling to fight your injuries, and without an ounce of food or rest in your body, it finally showed in ways. You were dehydrated, tired… you felt sore, and you were growing nowhere close to healing the way you wanted to.
You could barely walk to the bathroom, only managing to stare off before washing your face, and doing what you needed to.
By the time you realized how pitiful you looked, you quietly stared into the mirror noticing your sunken eyes. Anyone in their right mind could tell you were struggling, it hadn’t even been a day of this and you just wanted everything to stop.
Your face was pale, and your mind was tired.
Law didn’t want you anymore, he probably never even loved you in the first place. He only ever needed you for what you could do. It’s not like it mattered in that fight anyway, you took the hit for him—it was your job.
It was yall you were good for. You hadn’t even been thinking—you’d just acted, and that was your mistake… even if it felt meant to be. However, the look on his face pulled something in your chest.
You’d never seen that expression before…
Law was always so calm, rational, and logical; not like he had then. It didn’t make any sense. But honestly, nothing did anyway. It’s not like it mattered.
Sliding down the counter of the bathroom, your knees slid against the wooden cupboard pressing into the tiled floor. Sitting down, your head rested against the sink atop your arms… tiredly leaving your eyes closed.
Your chest ached. So much you could barely think.
Everytime you breathed, you thought of Law and it hurt. You’ve ruined everything.
____________________________________________
“Captain, I’m worried..” Bepo mumbled, standing aside his desk. “Don’t you think you should talk to her?” He questioned, his eyes soft.
“She needs space, Bepo. She’s made that clear.” Law muttered, shifting his glasses on his face. His pen mindlessly dragged against the rough paper, creating notes from a medical book he was studying.
Law was making notes on the injury you had, figuring out what he could do next, to treat it further. You needed time—rest, and much physical therapy but he could never be too sure. Something could always had to take a turn for the worst, he just couldn’t let his guard down.
Not again. Suddenly, he registers Bepo’s question.
“Why… do you ask?” He doesn’t look up, but at what Bepo says, makes him. “She’s… tired, Captain. And I just, she’s looks too tired.” He mumbled, holding his paws together. “I just, what happened between you?”
At the reminder, a pang of guilt hits his chest. …What, had happened?
He had been trying to start a conversation, then you went quiet, then he pushed when he shouldn’t have. It turned into a lecture, and he shamefully lost his temper. He had taken it out on you.
“I did something I shouldn’t have.” he spoke, eyes downcast. His fingers tightened around his metallic pen, silently questioning himself.
You had been quiet, too quiet. You hadn’t even been able to look at him, then, but was that really because you needed space? Or was it because of something else?
As if realizing, Law looks back up. “Is she eating? Resting?”
Bepo hesitates. “Minimally, Captain.” he whispered, guilty to speak. You had told the mink not to tell, but how could he not? He was worried, and you had promised to eat… yet excuses had just kept coming. You were in no state to lose energy.
“How long?” Law asked, his shoulders tensing. As Bepo continued, Law felt the wind get knocked out of his chest.
_________________________________________
In a splurge of voices, you hear your name being called. Lights flick on over-head, and you can barely make yourself out on the bathroom floor. You must’ve fallen asleep…
Your eyes flicker shut, yet a familiar tan suit catches your eye. However, as if realizing—you’re too tired to care, making you press your cheek into the comfortable floor.
“Shachi, go get captain!”
Gentle hands grip at your shoulder, and a man’s voice softly says your name. Your legs feel like lead, yet another voice sounds. There’s so much happening… yet nothing is happening at all.
“Hey, come on, ___. Stay awake, ok?” Clione mutters, rubbing your back. “What’s wrong? Does anything hurt?”
Too tired to speak, your voice dies in your throat like it did before. You freeze up, and your chest aches. And at the thought of it, of Law, your mind clouds. Tears well, and Clione stiffens.
“H-Hey—it’s okay! Forget I asked, just breathe, alright?” he mutters. Scanning down your sides, he looks for any signs of reopened injuries, yet there are none.
Moments pass before he realizes. “___, What’s going on?”
Closing your eyes, you can already feel Clione’s worried gaze. You mistake it for disappointment, and your mind spirals. You’re weak, useless. You can’t even defend a hit to save your captain’s life.
Your ears begin to ring… and slowly your vision darkens again. Your chest burns, and you groan in pain turning into the floor. “I-I’m sorry…”
“Huh? For what, you didn’t do anything?” “…” “Hey come on, what hurts? You can talk to me..”
The bathroom door swings open again, and the person you’d feared you had failed most stands in the doorway. You feel Law’s presence, and you already know his expression is covered by the shadow of his hat.
Weakly, you hear the steps of his heavy boots before closing your eyes for good. Your chest tightens, and you’re suddenly reminded of his words from before… and they echo. Lingering.
“I cannot keep running after you.” His footsteps ring, and your heart races like before. “You almost died and you can’t even talk to me?”
Static begins to cloud your senses, and you feel your body finally give. The last thing you feel is Law’s calloused hand on your bandaged arm, and the soft murmur of your name… something you’ve never heard so gentle before.
Hi Kari! this if my first request after being a lurker for ages.. i love your writing so much!! i am here to request for the christmas event 😋
would love going to the mall with modern au Law to shop for christmas presents for everyone, ! (heart pirates, strawhats, anyone you’d like to mention !) law lowkey knowing exactly what everyone would want cause that’s just who he is fr... stuff like hitting up the food court, getting stopped by vendors, add anything you’d like. just in desperate need of some sickening law fluff <\3 🎶 thank you!
a gift from me to you, sickening law fluff you say? you came to the right place (also thank you, i see you, and i adore you)
song: warm in december by samara joy
the shopping center is crowded. bodies on bodies on bodies. and law is miserable. he’s starting to sweat beneath all of his layers. his scarf beginning to strangle him with every corner you turn only to be met by more people.
“there has to be a better way of going about this,” he grumbles as you join the line for pretzels, excitedly rubbing your hands together as you look at the menu. his own hands full of bags. bags that he offered to carry, but still. he’s trying to maintain his christmas spirit so he doesn’t complain further.
“you don’t want pretzels?” you ask quickly, and he’s surprised you even heard him. “we can grab something else. the food court is nearby.”
“no, pretzels are fine,” he says, feeling a little bad at how quickly you went to accommodate him. his prickly disposition immediately softens. “there’s just a lot of people out today.”
the confession lightens the load on his chest. he feels better voicing it to you. especially because you like to listen.
“i know, love.” you touch his arm, rubbing his bicep reassuringly as you look back up at the menu. “but we only have a few more stores to hit and i promise we’ll be done.”
you angle your head towards him, puckering your lips, and he leans down swiftly to press a peck against them. never one to keep you waiting.
“ok,” you pull out your phone to check who’s left on the list to get gifts for, “shachi and cora are left.”
“great, they’re easy,” he sighs with relief, anyone’s easy after you spent way too long fussing over a gift for nami. who he didn’t take as someone who was particularly picky, but according to you she’s quite the gift critic.
“do you know what you want to get them?” you ask around a bite of your pretzel, cinnamon sugar clinging to the corner of your mouth as you chew.
“hold on,” he pauses off to the side, near the vendors, as he moves some of the bags to his other hand. you stop beside him, and he uses one of his knuckles to dust off some of the sugar. you look at him gratefully, chuckling lightly as you swallow your bite.
“what a beautiful couple,” an old woman says suddenly. she works at one of the stalls, selling handmade jewelry. and the smile she sends your way makes law squirm just a little. not used to such blatant attention from strangers.
“oh, thank you,” you smile graciously. always making every interaction seem effortless.
“for the lady?” she asks, opening a box with a gold necklace and the pendant catches law’s eye. it’s a locket in the shape of a heart, a ruby nestled right in the center.
“no, thank you,” you answer politely, and he knows you didn’t even glance at it. he knows you’re in a rush to get home now, for his sake especially, but he thinks it’s perfect for you.
he doesn’t say anything about it, though. he lets you weave him through the crowd. stopping in the food court eventually to eat the samples. chatting excitedly about all the good sales you found as you hurry through the parking lot. and he listens intently the whole time, but still somewhere in the back of his mind he thinks of that necklace. of how it would fit around your neck. the pendant resting perfectly in the center of your chest.
so the next day, as you wrap gifts—lost somewhere in the mess of tissue paper, ribbon, and tinsel— he sneaks out to return to the mall. praying silently as he speeds towards it that your necklace is still there. that that sweet old lady is still at the stall, just like she was yesterday.
“hello, handsome!” when the lady spots him she grins, eyes wrinkling and cheeks rouged. “all alone today?”
she looks around for what he presumes is you. but “yes, just me today.”
“i think i know what you came here for,” she nods knowingly, holding up a finger for him to wait as she crouches behind the stall and returns with the same box as yesterday.
“i noticed the way you were eyeing it for your wife,” she lifts the lid as she continues speaking. how many karats, how to open the locket, but he doesn’t hear any of it. his mind still stuck on the word wife. and he doesn’t correct her, either. because he likes the way it sounds.
"would you like me to gift wrap it for you?" she asks as he pays for the necklace, a bit more nervous now. because he hopes you like it as much as he thinks you will. well, at least, as much as he does.
"yes, please," he answers, hands now forming a light sweat across his palms. he's unsure why he's so nervous. it's not like he's proposing and yet, his body is behaving like he is.
like you're never enthusiastic with every gift he gives you. no matter how small or seemingly insignificant. you keep everything right down to the movie ticket from the very first time you went to the movies together. he has it too, tucked away in his wallet behind a photo of you.
"can i just ask one thing of you?" she's holding out the small bag to him and the question is almost shy as it leaves her lips.
"sure?" he replies, completely unsure.
"will you come back and let me know if she likes it? it's been a long time since i've seen a couple so in love," she adds, nearly wistful. as if she's caught in a memory of her own.
law, as much as he tries to resist, cannot fight the blush the paints his cheeks. hot and flattered.
but he does go back. the day after christmas he returns to the mall with you in tow. your fingers toying with the pendant from the moment he clasped it around your neck.
and he thinks, maybe next year, he'll give you another piece of jewelry to toy with. this time on your finger.
