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Itβs odd, because he rarely gets visitors. Heβs holed up in this three bedroom townhouse that he bought last summer on a quiet residential street, and only John knows where it is.
So when his doorbell rings, his instincts stir, and he approaches the front door carefully, gun tucked in the waistband of his pants at his back.
Nothing through the peep hole, and his frown deepens when the bell rings again.
What the?
He doesnβt know what he expected to find when he opened the door. John maybe. A door to door solicitor, or someone similar.
He didnβt expect a pint size child in a tigerβs costume, ears and all on the hood pulled over their head.
βTrick or treat!β What? Itβs October twelfthβ¦ He crouches, but even on his haunches, heβs not eye level with the little beast.
βWhoβre you?β
βLisbeth.β She holds a pillow case open with a toothy smile. βTrick or treat.β
βItβs not-β
βLisbeth!β He turns to find his you speeding down the sidewalk, your eyes wide, frantic, mad, shaking your head furiously. Meanwhile, the little girl at his feet gives him a chastising look, like heβs the one whoβs gotten her in trouble. Itβs an eyeful on someone who canβt be older than five.
βYouβre in trouble.β He murmurs, and her lower lip rolls out as you clear his gate and wrap your hand around her wrist, dragging her towards you. Youβre a bit of a mess, pajama pants and a stretched out hoodie, mismatched socks under slippers, but thereβs something about it that fits, some sort of chaos that seems to settle on your shoulders as he stares at you. Beautiful, stunning, frightening chaos.
βSowwy mum.β
βWhat did I say? Itβs not halloween for two weeks yet. You canβt just go walking around the neighborhood bothering the neighbors.β Guilt wedges under his ribs.
βShe wasnβt botherinβ me.β
βSee?β She grins, and you shake your head.
βIβm sorry. Sheβs justβ¦ itβs her favorite holiday. Sheβs excited and I turned my back for one minuteβ¦β You drag the words out and Lisbeth looks properly scolded.
βItβs alright. Sheβsβ¦ cute.β Isnβt that what people say? They say kids are cute, right? You give him a weak smile, and itβs mildly encouraging, so he goes a step further and extends his hand. βIβm Simon.β
βSimon.β Youβre weak in his grip. Delicate, soft, and heβs mesmerized by your lips as you give him your name and jerk your head down the street.
βWeβre two doors down. Just moved in.β Heβs not sure where to take it from here, only that he wants to drag this out and soak up this opportunity, this conversation, this moment where heβs standing in front of something so lovely heβs not sure how it exists.
βNice to meet you. Anβ you.β He nods towards Lisbeth, and she nods.
βYouβll have candy on Halloween?β You close your eyes, exasperated.
βLisbeth, not everyone wants trick or treaters, you know. He could have plans. Or just not want a million kids at his door.β Normally, heβd say youβre right, he doesnβt want trick or treaters, he doesnβt want kids at his door. Heβs not made for this life but the idea of you and the kid walking around in the dark, knocking on peopleβs doors, getting candy, makes him homesick for something he doesnβt understand.
βIβll have candy, yeah.β It will be worth it, he promises himself. Worth it to see you again.
βAlright then. Well, I guess weβll see you on Halloween.β Lisbethβs face is all mischief as you turn her away. βNice to meet you Simon.β
βYou too.β His brain is too slow for this interaction, his thoughts too convoluted. Later heβll think of a million things he could have asked you, said to you, built a bridge to you with, but for now you too is all heβs got.
You look over your shoulder at him when youβre halfway down the sidewalk with a small, lingering smile, and Lisbeth grins at him like a cat thatβs got the cream as she shouts across his yard.
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The setting that prevents your work being used to train AI models is turned off by default! I had no idea about this until now! Artists, go to your settings, click βvisibilityβ, and turn on this setting! Protect your work!
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In which you have ten seconds to remind Trafalgar Law that he's loved.
Tags: Trafalgar Law x Reader, Gender-neutral reader, Established relationship, Gentle romance, Soft Law hours, Birthday fic
A/N: No, I didn't rush to make this for my bias. Happy Birthday, Law!
W/C: 0.8k
Image: [x] Not mine!
"What's that?" He steps into the room, stopping when he sees you dressed in your pajamas and holding something in your hand.
"It's for you," you beam at him and Law's shoulders slacken at your smile. Cute.
He looks tired. He's been cooped up in that brilliant brain of his again, and you figure he's been pushing himself to the brink. The dark circles under his eyes and the angle of his hat suggest obvious exhaustion but they quarrel with his tight work ethic. So you pat the space beside you and he makes his way, the bed softly bouncing with his weight.
"It's...cake bread," he notes, stroking your hair.
You stare at him. "It's a cupcake."
He pauses. "Yes."
"Are you serious?"
He slowly puts his hand back down. "I mean it'sβ"
"βThey're not the same thing," you giggle, and he slouches then, eyes softening as the candlelight on the bedside table faintly casts a shadow on your face. Your laugh has become his favorite.
"Come on, it's just a small cupcake. Besides, I asked Bepo to give me the least sweet and the lightest one."
Again with that thinking face. Adorable.
"Fine," he sighs and you smile bigger. It's only fair to cede this one.
"Oh! It's almost midnight," you announce when you glanced at the clock. His eyes feel warm on you as you fumble with the lighter, your head filled with his scent of salty air and rubbing alcohol. He's breathing in tandem with you and you feel jittery. It's not the first time you're celebrating his birthday together but the fireflies in your stomach never fail to light up every time.
"I'll age 50 years before you light that thing."
"Shut up, Law."
He chuckles and the candle finally sparks. You gingerly shift towards him, bringing the cupcake closer to his face. "Make a wish."
You can tell he's still not used to this. "Do I need to?"
"You're welcome to," you say. He stares at the flickering candle, the golden light reflecting in his amber eyes.
He slowly exhales and looks down at the treat, thumb brushing the edge of the bed as though heβs buying time.
You tilt your head. βYouβve got ten seconds before it melts, Law.β
βTen seconds?β he echoes, faint amusement tugging at his lips.
βMm-hm. Ten seconds to make a wish. Or to let me convince you you're loved.β
He stills. The walls hold their breath and the flame dances between you, fragile and bright; for a moment you think you see his heartbeat in the shadows.
βTen,β you start softly, your voice half a whisper.
βYouβre not just a captain. Youβre Law, the one who always checks if everyone ate before he does.β
His eyes flick up to meet yours.
βNine. You donβt talk much, but when you do, you always make it count.β
He stays silent, eyes piercing yours.
βEight. You pretend you donβt care, which is adorable because you always do. Too much sometimes.β
You see the way his fingers tightly grasping the edge of the bed.
βSeven. Youβre brilliant. Not just because of whatβs in your head, but whatβs in there.β You nod towards his chest, right where his heart beats.
βSix,β you continue, your smile trembling a little. βYou let me in, even when it scared you.β
Heβs silent. Too silent. The candle flickers, a tiny flame caught in the hush of the room. His eyes stay afix on yours.
βFive. You deserve to rest.β
A muscle in his jaw jumps.
βFour. Youβre not alone anymore.β
Something shifts in his expression. Tender, almost candor. Almost vulnerable.
βThree,β you whisper. βYouβre cared for, Law. By us. By me.β
His gaze sharpens then, like heβs memorizing the way your voice sounds when you say it.
βTwo,β he murmurs, almost to himself. βThatβs enough wishing.β
And before you can say βone,β he leans forward and blows the candle out.
The darkness that follows isnβt empty. Itβs warm. Almost sacred. He retrieves the cupcake and sets it down on the table, long and calloused fingers reaching for you before pulling you into him.
His arms snake around your torso, stealing your warmth. Your arms soon followed, tenderly engulfing him in the quiet of the night, in the space where you two first confessed.
For a moment, you both stayed like that. Breaths falling in tandem, eyes closed in quiet understanding. The world fades like sleep and everything feels like home.
ββ¦You didnβt let me finish counting,β you mumble against his chest.
βDidnβt need to,β he murmurs, his voice unshakable but softer than usual. He draws back just enough to see your face, fingertips brushing your cheek.
"You already gave me what I wished for."
The world tilts.
A question has been lingering in his being.
And for once, Trafalgar Law didnβt need a wish; he already had the answer pressed to his lips.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
β Live Streamingβ Interactive Chatβ Private Showsβ HD Qualityβ Free Actions
Free to watch β’ No registration required β’ HD streaming
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