𝓫𝓸𝓻𝓷 𝓽𝓸 𝓭𝓲𝓮.

could i please request a law x f!reader who uses guns as a weapon? my headcanon for law is that guns are really big triggers for him bcuz of flevance, so i’d like a hurt/comfort angst fic of law avoiding reader because of that since every time she uses her gun, it takes him back to his past. he doesn’t tell her anything since he’s very closed emotionally but then he eventually breaks down in front of her after a while of keeping up that tough act.

thank you for reading !!! (´꒳`)♡

contains: f!reader, ptsd, angst/hurt/comfort/fluff, just law finally letting out all of his pain. author (me) has made up bullet powers for this story! has been proofread, mistakes may be present.

authors note: oh this is a super cool idea, thank you so much for trusting me with it!

Guns, your sense of security in a world catering to the protection of devil fruit powers. You had all types of bullets to go with your collection! A bullet resembling hemlock dipped in a special coating to give the enemy user a feel that they’re drowning, alongside the usual symptoms of the poisonous plant, smoke bullets, poison bullets, and to Law’s dismay, you were doing your research on white lead disease, which means that you were planning on bringing another idea he wouldn’t like to life.

When Law first saw you and your gun, he was hesitant to bring you onboard. But Law could not deny how talented you were, so he invited you to join his crew, and you accepeted. I’ll just avoid her, Law thought, but that became harder than he originally thought - you were like sunshine, with your soul weeping rain, and in your solitude, you’d clean the barrel of your gun, with Law silently wishing that it was your hands on him instead of that curse.

Guns took away his parents, guns took away Cora-san.

Now, it was taking you away from him because to Law, you seemed to spend more time with your guns, buying new ones for your collection, tucked away in your workshop, creating new bullets to ensure the safety of not just yourself, but the crew.

You never would’ve believed that you were the problem. Not until you notice Law distancing himself from you, not until you saw him actively avoid walking towards you when he walked out of his office.

“Oh, hey C—”

Slam.

He walked back inside, and shut the door.

You frown.

How rude.

Then the next day, thinking things were fine between the two of you, you surprise him by sitting beside him and before the words could leave you, he slammed his book shut and stormed away from you.

“Oi!” You snap. “Captain?!”

You didn’t want him to hate you. Anyone but him.

“Cap—”

Law slammed the door shut. Your hand was left hovering over the door, and when you felt the tears well up in your eyes, you walk off into your workshop and lock yourself away from everyone.

When there was a knock at the door, Bepo entered.

“Captain says to eat.”

“Tell him if he wants me to eat, he has to talk to me first.”

Bepo blinked. “Uh—” Peeped his head out. Law shook his head. “Captain said—”

“I need his voice, Bepo.”

Law dragged out a sigh. “Eat, Name-ya.”

“No thanks.”

Law let out a tsk. Entered your workspace. He stormed towards you with a plate full of food but stopped in his tracks at the sight of the book opened on white lead disease. His hands tremble, his heart beats frantically in his chest.

You look at what he was staring at. “Oh, I heard my guardian talk about this a couple years back - I don’t know why, but I’ve been thinking about this for the past couple of weeks. I want to be able to make a bullet that leaves an imprint on an enemy user that’s incredibly dangerous. For example, Blackbeard. If I shoot this at Blackbeard, the bullet can be removed, but the stain won’t go - he’ll be marked with a tracking device that allows us to know his location at all times, and if he tries to attack us again – boom. When he uses his devil fruit to attack someone we know, he erupts from the inside. And— Law?”

He blinks once. Breathing heavy. Then, he looks at you.

“You’re going to use white lead?” He asked, clearing his throat.

“Oh no, not at all. I’m only reading about white lead to know why it’s incurable. It’s kinda hard though, it’s pretty obvious when the government has gotten their scrubby paws on knowledge and history, so it’s harder to figure out the truth and why it came to be so easily accessible—” You pick up the book with a frown. You see him flinch from the corner of your eye. “Captain?”

The plate of food dropped to the ground and Law launched for the book.

“C—Captain?”

“It’s diseased. It’s diseased.” Law rasped. “You’re going to be sick. You’re going to die. You’re going to—”

“I—I checked, the book is good. It’s fine. Captain?” You put the book down and wrap one arm around him to keep him away from your desk. You didn’t want your hard work to be ruined.

But then, seeing the look on his face, and how his eyes welled up with tears, made you falter.

“Captain…” You whisper. “Don’t tell me.”

He wasn’t listening.

He managed to grab one of your guns, then another, and snap them in half. Your heart broke at every snap, but your heart also broke at the panic on his face.

What do I do? What do I do? What do I—

“Law,” You say, gently taking his hand, and when his eyes snap towards you, you smile. “Hey man, that collection was pretty expensive.”

Still, you tug him closer.

You stumble, Law wrapped his arms around you, and you both topple to the ground.

He was holding back tears.

“Let it all out.” You whisper, running your fingers through his hair.

He held back again. But when your lips found his forehead, he sobbed into your shoulder.

“My father was a doctor,” Law’s breathing was slightly better, but still he wouldn’t stop trembling. “The best in the country.”

“Yeah? What happened?” You caress the top of his head.

“He was gunned down alongside my mother - and you know what happened to Cora-san.” Law gripped your shirt tighter. “Guns took my parents away. Guns took Cora-san away. And white lead took my people away. It cursed my home. It took my sister from me.”

“You’re from Flevance?”

Law nods.

“Oh, Law…” You tighten your grip. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He didn’t answer.

“I don’t want white lead to take you from me either.”

“It won’t. I promise, there was nothing on the book, it’s from the library! But if you want me to return it, I’ll return it—”

He nods once.

“Okay. I’ll return it.” You were quiet. “But Law, I can’t promise to give up my guns.”

“I know.” He whispered.

Your eyes soften. “What I can promise is to use them for good. I won’t ever point them at our crew or innocents. It will always be aimed at the enemy. Someone who tries to hurt you, our crew, our alliances…”

Law gathered himself. “That’s all I ask of you.” And pulled away.

When he lowered his head, you place your fingers under his chin.

“Don’t shy away from me now, Captain.” You give him a smile.

He awkwardly smiled back.

Then, he noticed the sadness on your face when you saw your guns on the floor, in pieces.

“They’re fixable.” You shrug. “Still, I want an apology.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, with snacks.” You lightly swat his shoulder.

Law’s lip quirked. “Yes ma’am.”

bonus scene one.

Law felt awful as the days went by. He saw how determined you were to fix your guns, and once they were back in pristine condition, your smile should’ve been enough to wash away his guilt. It wasn’t. So, Law took it upon himself to buy you the guns you’ve been eyeing in the catalogue.

And when he presented them to you on one sunny afternoon, as you lounged about and read your books, he wasn’t expecting you to run and hug him.

“Captain!” You cry. “How did you know I wanted these? You’re the best Captain ever! I love you, I love you, I love—”

You were kissing him all over his face, deliberately missing his lips, and his entire face was red under the lipstick stains, and the tips of his ears were pink.

“Tsk. Enjoy.” He grumbled, about to walk away, but when he saw how happy you were, he wanted to stay behind and take in your joy a little longer.

bonus scene two.

Law could not sleep. Instead of dreaming about his family and Cora-san, he dreamt of you. Not of your guns or your bullets, but of child you with him, laughing and talking, holding hands, with you as your loving, jolly self, only to be held at gunpoint for having the disease. And when the shot rang through the air, Law shot up, and looked around the room.

He was on the submarine. He was safe.

But is Name safe?

Law ran his hands through his hair and panicked all over again, until he remembered your words on the deck, as the two of you observed the sunset whilst eating a meal together. Law was concerned about your eating habits, with you being so focused on bringing your ideas to life that you didn’t make any time for basic hygiene, that he’d force you to eat with him.

“If you ever need me, pretty Law, you know where to find me.”

His knuckles hover over the door, and when he finally gathered the courage to knock, you tell him to enter.

You were freshly showered and wide awake, a stack of books in your hands as you prepare to read the night away.

“Oh, Law!” You beam, then quickly correct yourself. “Oh sorry, Captain—”

“Stick with Law, Name-ya.” He shut the door behind him. “What are you doing up?”

“I couldn’t sleep so I found some old books to do some research on! But I was kinda stinky after sweating my ass off creating a new prototype so I took a shower and—”

Law took the books from your hands and placed them on the desk.

“That’s not healthy, staying up this late.” Law mumbled, his fingers caressing your jawline. “You should sleep.”

“I could say the same about you.” You smile, brushing the eye bags under his eyes. “Hey, why don’t we sleep together?”

“Huh?”

“I can’t sleep, you can’t sleep, why not cuddle and see if that works?”

You grin at him like the words you just said meant absolutely nothing.

Then, his jaw ticked.

Does she ask that of other people too?

Law wanted to be the only one to cuddle you.

“Thinking about me?”

The tips of his ears were pink.

You both stood there like idiots drunk in love, until Law was man enough to make the first move. Law took your hand and guides you out of your workshop, and into his bedroom. It was more breathable and spacious.

Law got in the bed first. Pats the empty spot beside him. You join him. At first, the space between you was respectable, but it wasn’t enough to lull you to sleep.

“Is your tattoo artist a woman?”

“No.”

“Good.”

Butterflies erupted in his stomach.

“Do you ask other men to cuddle you?”

“No. But I should.”

His turned to glare at you. “Why?”

“This isn’t cuddling. It’s avoiding.”

“Tsk. Come here then.”

“Am I the man or are you the man?”

Law chuckled, and when he shuffled closer, you stay where you are. Then, his warmth welcomed you, and you accept it.

You press your forehead to his chest. “Do my guns still pain you?”

“No.” He whispered.

“Good.” You look up. “Pretty Law.”

His face was red again.

You were getting sleepy.

So was Law.

“Can we do this often?” Law asked after a yawn.

“Of course.” You mumble. “Can I colour your tattoos instead of polishing my guns next time?”

His body relaxed, his hands caressing your hair, and when you sleep, he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

do you think that when ace first arrived in hell he thought that he awakened his devil fruit when in reality he’s just fucking burning to a crisp??

| AS PER USUAL | RED-HAIRED SHANKS

summary: your captain, emperor of the sea shanks, has gotten awfully used to sleeping in your room. despite your feeling of comfort with him around, you can't help but find it a little weird. when interrogating your fellow crewmates, all they do is laugh in your face. pairing: crewmate! reader / shanks wc: 3k tags: fluff, a little bit of crack because the red force is a generally jubilant crowd of dudes when they're not doing... uh... yeah! f! reader, set POST PARAMOUNT WAR, shanks in ur bed, sassy reader, slight miscommunication, reader and beckman are best friends, beckman loves to piss you off, suggestive undertones, reader is oblivious, shanks is teasing, shanks is a yearner (i'm talking DECADE LONG yearner) a/n: it took me 3 months to catch up to one piece start to finish and now i'm waiting on weekly eps. i feel like a fat chud

You blinked at Beckman from across the table, outstretched hand hovering over your tea. "You're serious?"

"Yup." The first mate of the crew replied, sipping his coffee and reading his paper.

"You see nothing wrong with the fact that our captain seems to end up in my bed in the middle of the night, and stay there until morning?"

"Nope."

"He acts like it's normal, Beckman." You hissed, snatching his paper from out of his hands.

He blinked indignantly, finally meeting your eyes. After a pause, he sighed, folding his arms over his chest. "Well, it is, isn't it? How long's this been goin' on?"

"Like. A month."

"Yeah." He huffed, gesturing for his paper back. "So it's normal by now."

"Fuck you." You snapped, flinging the paper overboard. He gaped indignantly, watching his source of news soak in seawater, now unreadable. "You know this isn't normal."

The first mate picked up his cigarette, inhaling deeply before blowing out - straight your way, knowing that it would make your eyes water. You coughed indignantly, hand violently waving in front of you. "It wasn't normal to start with. It definitely is now. Go around and ask anybody if they're surprised when we see him stumble out of your room in the morning."

Beckman paused, watching you gnaw on your lip. You could practically see the gears grinding in his head, his mind contemplating whether he should really push your buttons when you're already this agitated.

Well. Benn Beckman sure was good at appearing as the patient, relaxed first mate of the Red-Haired Pirates. Unfortunately for you, he also really loved to see you irritated.

"What isn't normal is the fact that according to you, nothing's happened." He shrugged, sipping his coffee.

Your eyes snapped upwards, eyebrows furrowed at the implication. Beckman swore he felt the heat rising.

He kept pushing anyways. "One whole month of lying in a little ship's quarters, hip to hip? I know you, drinking buddy. You don't sleep with pants on."

You seethed, a vein practically popping out of your forehead. You should've known it was a mistake to get into the habit of drinking late at night with Beckman. A whole decade of friendship. That's how he got you - play the calm, quiet friend in the corner and let you whisper all your secrets to him. Then of course, he'll play in your face later down the line.

"And you run warm." He continued, puffing on his cigarette. "Sometimes, you don't even wear a shirt-"

You lunged across the coffee table, Beckman immediately putting his hands out in front of him to protect himself, to no avail. You wrapped your hands around both his wrists, before flinging yourself over his head, tight grip still around his combat-ridden hands as you landed on the ground behind him, sending him straight into the air after you and slamming onto the hard wooden deck of the Red Force.

Taking advantage of his dizzy, disoriented state, you rummaged in his pockets, fishing out his pack of cigarettes and tossing it into the ocean.

"You're joking." He stated dryly, peering at you from below as he nursed a bump on his head. "Was that necessary?"

"Says you." You squinted at him. "Good luck. We're not docking for another four days."

Beckman groaned, not even bothering to get up from the floor as he mourned the pack that was supposed to hold him over for the rest of the day.

"Don't bother with the ones you've got stashed away, either." You grinned, dangling something from your finger.

He opened his eyes.

His room key.

"They're mine now."

"You're unbelievable." He sighed.

"You started it."

"Yeah, he sleeps in your room. What about it?" Lucky Roux asked, bustling around the kitchen as you munched on some cookies. "I hear you scuffled with Beckman earlier."

"Don't bring his name up to me." You grumbled, tossing Beckman's room key to the cook. "He pissed me off. Give that back to him."

The cook whistled, tucking the key into his pockets. "Dunno what you expected from him. You asked him if he thought it was normal, and he was honest with you."

"Not you too." You groaned, stealing another cookie. "Captain's quarters are way bigger than mine. My feet hang over the end of my bed! And I'm right by the boiler room, so it's always warm and stuffy. My window is small, so I've got no breeze. There's nothing appealing about my room - if Shanks doesn't like his room, he should just sleep with Beckman."

Lucky Roux choked midway through taste-testing the dinner stew. "Well. I don't think you should ever suggest that to him."

"Why in the world would I want to sleep with Beckman?!" A familiar, indignant voice hollered from the pantry. You glared a searing hole into Lucky Roux, who felt a shiver run down his spine.

The cook turned around ever so slightly, the constant grin on his face looking a bit thin as he whispered, "Listen. I did not know he was there."

Shanks burst out of the pantry, holding a bag of jerky which was already half empty. His eyes darted between the two of you, like he'd witnessed a personal attack on his character. "I don't want to sleep with Beckman!"

"His room's way better than mine!" You exclaimed, wiping your mouth of cookie crumbs. "I've got nothing to offer you, Captain! Even Lucky Roux's room is better - I've probably got the worst room on the whole ship, which is honestly sort of offensive considering how long I've been around."

"You're always welcome in my room, Cap'n!" The cook grinned, sending Shanks a thumbs up, which was merely met with a dry look. "Okay."

Shanks pointed at you as he began to speak, before realizing that his fingers were covered in sauce from the jerky. He cleared his throat, walking around Lucky Roux to wash his hands in the sink, before coming back to stand in front of you, and pointing once more.

"Listen. I don't wanna sleep in anyone else's room. I wanna sleep in your room."

"Why?" You asked.

Lucky Roux snorted from the counter. Shanks inhaled deeply, running his hands down his face in downcast desperation. "It's comfortable."

"I just went through like, four reasons as to why it's not."

"Move to my room, then. The place isn't the reason I'm there - it's because I want to sleep with you." He clarified, leaning down to stare at you. He plucked the half-eaten cookie from your hand, and shoved it into his mouth.

Your jaw hung slightly open from the proclamation, and likely also because you were just robbed in broad daylight. Though maybe you deserved it, considering you'd robbed the second in command just a few hours prior.

"I can tell this is about to get gross." Lucky Roux hummed. "Can you guys take this elsewhere?"

Shanks began to agree, only to be cut off by you abruptly standing up and dashing out of the kitchen door without a word.

"Runaway bride!" Lucky Roux shouted jokingly, before clearing his throat awkwardly when his captain looked at him, obviously disappointed. "Sorry."

"Whatever." Shanks sighed, grabbing the bag of jerky and a napkin. "I'll see her later tonight anyways."

Despite how unbothered he appeared, Shanks did look for you during the rest of the day. The waters were clear, with only one Sea King appearing, which was swiftly slain by Beckman and dragged onboard for meat by the senior officers.

You didn't reappear. Night fell over the calm sea, and Shanks only saw you for about fifteen seconds as you appeared in the kitchen to serve yourself three helpings of dinner before disappearing back to wherever you came from.

He sighed, glancing at the clock. It was just about midnight.

"Best to sleep, Captain." Hongo smiled from across the table, stealing Shanks' half-finished beer in the blink of an eye. Before Shanks could complain, Hongo spoke. "I think not. Best to go to sleep with a clear mind tonight. Got a gut feeling about it."

Shanks narrowed his eyes at his doctor, but ultimately shrugged and laughed, defeated. "Fine, then. Have it your way. Night, Hongo."

He waved goodbye to the doctor, passing right by your door on the way to his room.

His room. It felt strange to call it that, considering it wasn't where he'd rested for quite a while now. His hand reached out to knock on your door, but he paused at the last second.

The look of shock on your face. Eyes wide, mouth slightly agape. The way you'd left in a hurry. Never really signs of an effortlessly charmed woman.

I want to sleep with you. He sighed, scolding himself internally for the awful wording he'd used. His arm dropped to his side, leaving your door untouched as he continued to walk down the hallway. Passing by Beckman's door, he could hear quiet cursing - probably still lamenting the loss of his cigarettes.

He reached his door. Just like you said, his room was the nicest, inside and out, but he felt no affection for it as he rested his hand on the doorknob, pushing it open and clicking it shut behind him.

He shrugged his cape off, hanging it on the door and taking his shoes off on the mat, before turning around to flick the light on and pausing.

"Hey." You greeted him, sitting on his bed. The side you liked sleeping on, he realized. The side opposite his.

"...Hey." He replied, a small smile gracing his face. "Wait. How'd you get in here?"

"Beckman." You hummed, tossing him the key to his own room. "Didn't think it was weird that your door was unlocked?"

"Guess I wasn't paying attention." He laughed, catching the key and putting it in his capes pocket. "So, what's up?"

You crossed your legs on the bed. Notably, you had pajama pants on. Shanks definitely didn't notice that and have to hold himself back from addressing it. "You said you wanted to sleep with me."

"Oh, that." He swallowed heavily, scratching his head. "Listen, I know that came off wrong. What I meant was-"

"Shanks." You interrupted him, sighing. "I know what you meant. I shouldn't have ran, alright? I just wasn't expecting you to say that. Come on."

"I should shower-"

"Shanks." You groaned, flopping onto the pillow. "You can't be serious. You've slept by me for a month now, don't pull this showering bullshit with me. You only shower on Friday nights. It's honestly disgusting."

Fuck. He cursed at himself. He'd been so busy appreciating the fact that you even let him in your room that he'd forgotten to appear appealing.

"It doesn't matter, Shanks." You butted into his thinking, arm tiredly patting the space beside you. "It's your bed, Cap. Or would you like me to leave?"

"No!" He exclaimed, hands thrown up in a big 'X' in front of him. "No, don't leave. I'll change clothes and hop in."

You shrugged, turning away from him as he dug in his closet for his nightshirt. "So... Do you want to talk about it, or?"

"...Yeah." He murmured, red hair falling over his scarred eye as he slid his pants off. "Well, I don't really know where to start. Do you remember where we met?"

You snorted in amusement. "Jaya. The cherry pie from that bar wasn't any good, but there was no other dessert. You insisted on buying me more dessert because I wasn't drinking at the time, and I felt forced to eat it because a nice man was buying me food."

"Wow." Shanks drawled, sitting on the bed next to you in fresh clothes. "Couldn't even call me handsome, huh?"

You turned back around, face buried into your arm as an eye peeked at him. "Your ego doesn't need any of that."

"I guess not." He chuckled, pushing the hair out of your face. His hand lingered for just a second too long. "Something drew me to you that day. Maybe it was the fact that you were sulking at the bar counter while everyone else was partying - or maybe the fact that you ate like a pig."

"Thanks." You said dryly, swatting his hand away. "You really know how to charm a girl, Red-Haired."

He grabbed your hand, and suddenly you found yourself sweating, hands clammy and cold. "Sorry. I'm serious, though. It might've also just been the fact that you were probably the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen."

"..." Your face turned warm, and you turned ever so slightly away, mushing it into the pillow and hoping he didn't notice. "Shut up."

"I thought you wanted to talk about it?" He teased, gently turning your head.

You narrowed his eyes at his banter. "I did. I didn't think you were going to be this straightforward about it."

"Would you rather us just go to sleep next to each other again for the next month and call it normal?"

"...No." You let him continue, hand still draped in his as he rubbed his thumb across the back of your hand soothingly.

"I knew I had to get you on my crew. If you weren't a good fighter, you were damn good with words - and that's a valuable asset for the future King of the Pirates to have too, if I ever ended up in that role far down the line. I must've hit the jackpot, for you to blessed at both."

He paused, looking at you again. You were staring at him intently now, hooked on his words - though you averted your eyes as soon as they met his.

"Don't even get me started on when you met Luffy." He laughed lightly, smiling fondly at the thought of you dragging the young boy around the town as his cheek stretched, wailing in complaint. "You guys acted like you were oil and water, but he'd always come cryin' to you first whenever someone made fun of him. You'd always defend him, too - like some sort of tiger mom."

"That's ridiculous." You huffed, trying to wiggle your hand out of Shanks' grip to no avail. "The boy could take care of himself."

"Why're you telling me that?" Shanks snorted, amused. "You're the one that babied him."

"Whatever."

"That was probably the first moment I knew you'd become a problem later down the line." Shanks scooted downwards on the bed, face now right across from yours as he slung his arm over your side loosely. "So, I tried to keep myself as busy as possible, always on a journey somewhere with the whole group."

You watched him silently, his eyes reminiscing at the thought of the kid he viewed like his own son. "It didn't work. Even one of the Emperors of the Sea has downtime here and there - and whenever nothing was going on, days that were particularly calm and peaceful, I found myself thinking of you."

He rolled on his back, as if he couldn't bear to keep looking at you as he gathered his thoughts. "That dragged on for another five years, and I wished the feelings would go away."

He glanced at you. "They didn't."

The silence marinated between the two of you as he thought of what to say next. "The past five years, I tried to drop hints here and there - but finally, when I got the courage to act on my feelings, we've become busy. Things are ramping up now in the competition for the One Piece, with Whitebeard dying, the Paramount War - Ace. It felt like the world was out to get me. I guess I could blame the Supernovas for that."

He laughed goodheartedly, though his eyes were bitter. It was clear he held some resentment for himself for having not acted earlier. "Sorry. I should've spoken up before, but we finally got some downtime this past month. After a decade being on the ship together, I didn't know how you felt about me or if I had a chance."

"So you sleeping in my bed was you feeling me out?" You snorted.

"Well, when you put it like that - Yeah." He grinned back. "So?"

"You're ridiculous, Shanks." You hit him lightly in the shoulder. He pouted playfully, clutching at the amputated arm even though you hadn't even hit him there.

"I'm a cripple, you know. Be careful!"

"For the record, I did think you were handsome the moment you came up to me in Jaya." You huffed. "I just didn't think it was worth mentioning."

"Oh, yeah?" He smirked, sitting up ever so slightly to lean over you. "I've aged now, though. Still a good looking guy to you?"

"Unfortunately." You drawled, cupping his face lightly and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. "Yes, Shanks. I've been insufferably in love with you for years at this point. We both really should've said something sooner."

"We should've, shouldn't we?" He sighed, leaning back in to kiss you more. "Wonder if our crewmates are sick and tired of us."

"Definitely." You murmured, pecking the corner of his lips and gently shoving him off. "They'll be even more exhausted when they find out in the morning."

"1-10?" He asked.

"Beckman? Probably an 8."

"He sees you like a sister, you know." Shanks smiled. "Think he's gonna beat me up and threaten me?"

"He'll probably beg you to dock for cigarettes as your newfound brother." You sighed, tucking yourself into Shanks' side. "I'm so tired."

"Sleep, then." He replied. "It's not like this is anything new, sleeping with me."

As you dozed off at his side, drooling onto his nightshirt, Shanks couldn't help but hold you closer. Ten years ago, he laid eyes on you, and it took him another ten years to finally get somewhere. Whether it was your obliviousness or his lack of effort, he could only really realize one thing.