Moewe

It came as a bit of a surprise when Clark closed up shop for the weekend and invited you to spend the afternoon with him and the staff at a nearby water park. Part of you wondered if this was some sort of final hoorah and half expected him to announce that the furniture store was closing for good. But you weren't about to turn down a free trip to the pool. Especially not during this heat wave, and he had promised Kat and Bobby were already coming, so you readily agreed.

You pull up in front of Cap'n Clarks at ten AM, believing that you were all going to meet there and then carpool to the park. The morning sun was already heating up the pavement and you were eager to reach the warehouse where it stayed reasonably cool even without the AC running.

"Hey!" Clark greets, opening the glass door for you while you were still halfway down the sidewalk. "You made it!"

"I did!" You call, clutching the duffel bag on your shoulder. You pick up your pace to reach him—a little awkwardly in flip flops.

"Come in, let me grab my stuff!" He ushers you into the store with much enthusiasm and you give him an odd look. Your boss seemed ecstatic about this outing. You'd never seen him so riled up about anything. He barely quit moving for a second as he ran around the shop, mumbling to himself and throwing clothes into a bag of his own.

"Um, are you alright?" You ask, leaning your hips against the front desk.

"Great!" He laughs, sounding like he really was. "I'm doing great sweetheart, thank you for asking. How are you? Looking forward to cooling off?"

"Yeah." You nod, assessing him. Something was definitely off. Nobody got this exhilarated about hanging out with their employees. "Are Kat and Bobby still coming? I didn't see the truck in the lot."

"Oh!" Clark slaps a palm to his forehead. "You just reminded me– they actually cancelled last minute. Something about his engine not starting up. But hey, we can still enjoy ourselves, huh? What do you say?"

"Weren't they going to drive us?" You point out, waving a hand out the window and letting it flop back to your side.

"They were." Clark nods his head extra hard, hands on his hips. "But that's alright. I actually have something else to show you, come on!" He slings his backpack over his shoulder and ushers you towards the basement stairs.

Everything was moving so fast and plans changed at a breakneck speed you could barely keep up with. What could he possibly have to show you down there? Another rat? Ew, you didn't want to see that.

"Um, what is it, exactly?" You grimace.

"It's a surprise." He says, almost impatiently. "I can't really describe it, I can only show you."

"You realize how shady that sounds, right?" You raise an eyebrow.

"Oh, trust me. I know." Clark chuckles, holding out his hand. "Come here, I promise it doesn't bite."

"It had better not, or I'm out." You mutter, slipping your hand into his own.

He takes you downstairs and you survey the basement. It looks absolutely normal. Nothing is out of place and no random surprises were obviously positioned. So what did he want to show you?

"Clark?" You barely keep the frustration from creeping through your tone. You were here to go swimming, not lurk around your workplace. Something in the back of your mind was telling you that neither Kat, nor Bobby had been told about this supposed outing in the first place. Car troubles was the go to excuse. "What are we doing down here? Are you gonna kiss me again?"

"No." He squeezes your hand, stepping in front of you and cupping the side of your neck. "Would you like me to?" His voice drops and he leans in, not so subtly inhaling. Suddenly you find it much harder to speak, let alone breathe. You just shrug, dropping your gaze. You kind of did want him to kiss you again, as intense as that had been.

"Close your eyes." Clark says, and you do. "Good. You trust me?"

"I trust you." You say softly and tip your chin up, expecting his lips to meet your own. Hoping you'd get to taste him again.

"Good. Then keep them closed for me, okay? I'll guide you." Instead of forward, you feel him step back, extending your arm as he goes. "Follow me."

Step after step, he guides you towards whatever he wants to show you.

"Easy now..." He encourages, and you feel an odd shift in the air. Like it was more stifling. Not warmer, but more pressurized somehow. Goosebumps break out along your arms and you imagine they're from his touch. "Okay." He lets go of you. "You can look now."

You open your eyes and for a moment you can't even process what was in front of you. All around you, really. Pale, sickly yellow wallpaper plasters a strange environment you had never seen before... or... had you? You didn't think so. It felt like a burning memory that wasn't quite your own. You take a step back, breath shuddering as you exhale.

"What the fuck?" You whisper, turning a full circle. Behind you was a wall but no door. How had you gotten here? You hadn't felt any needles, right? He didn't drug you. "Clark where the fuck am I?"

"I don't know!" He says gleefully. "I found it last night. Isn't it incredible!?"

"Unreal." You say uncertainly. You still had your bag on your shoulder, so that counted for something. Could you be dreaming? Or was there some hidden passage behind the store you didn't know about? Yeah, that made sense. He must have taken you down some old maintenance hallway into an office space that had been closed up when they renovated the business complex. Surely.

"There's a lot to explore." He takes your arm, hauling you to his side. "And don't worry, before you say anything, we're still going swimming. This place has even got a pool!"

To call it a pool was a bit of an over-assesment in your opinion. Clark navigated the seemingly endless space until you somehow ended up in a room that was entirely tiled. Even the ceiling looked like the bottom of a deep end. The floor gradually angled down, sloping until it was deep enough to hold water. Only, it didn't stop tilting. It looked like the floor kept going down, even below the walls. It just didn't stop.

And the water? The water came directly from a huge pipe jutting out of the wall. You shuddered when you peaked into it, seeing only darkness and a hole more than wide enough for things to crawl out of. Big things. Probably even a large dog or small person. Creepy.

Clark drops his bag near the entrance of the room, seeming perfectly unperturbed by this all. You take a step back, suddenly hit with the realization that you wouldn't be able to find your way in this place without him. You were entirely dependant on him if you wanted to get back to wherever you'd come in from.

"I don't know if that's safe to swim in..." You tell him nervously. There could be bacteria or something in the water.

"It's alright, it's perfectly fine." He shrugs, waving you over. "I drank from here last night and I feel great!"

"You drank–!?" Your mouth falls open in disbelief. Was he insane?

"Yeah. It's just water." He strips off his baby blue shirt and drops it beside his bag. "You gonna join me?"

Speechless, your body moves on it's own. Apparently, you were. You strip down to your bathing suit and approach the beginning of the acute decline. Lukewarm water ripples over your toes and some sort of far off bump sounds from somewhere back in the office space behind you. You gasp, whirling, and lose your footing on the slick, uneven floor.

The crack of bone against tile you were braced for doesn't come. Clark grabs you around your waist and hauls you back against him, muffling your scream with a big, warm hand.

"Whoa, careful." He murmurs into your ear. "Gotta stay quiet, I think there's some other people around. I think I heard someone last night, too"

Your eyes widen and you make a whine of disbelief. Other people? If the other people down here were maintenance workers who found you trespassing, you were fucked. You didn't have a criminal record and you weren't planning on starting one up any time soon.

"Just... keep your voice down." His hand slips from your mouth down to your neck, holding loosely. Clark grinds his growing bulge against your hips from behind and your breath stutters for a reason other than fear this time. "Swim with me."

You lay on the start of the incline, your body barely in an inch of water while you wait for Clark to get done splashing around. He seemed to be having the time of his life in here, but you? You were unsettled to say the least. Finally, he emerges from the water, crawling up the slope until he's poised above you. Strands of hair float like a halo around your skull, baby hairs plastered to your nape.

"Can we go now?" You shiver, folding your arms around yourself.

"Yeah." He says, softening his eyes. "You want to get out of here?"

"It's creepy as hell." You frown, and he kisses the crease between your eyebrows.

"It's not so bad." He draws a knee up between your thighs, nudging the gusset of your swim suit. "Is it?"

"I guess not." You stutter, pushing your chest out slightly. It was that bad, but with him so near and touching you like this, your apprehensions faded. Somewhat. Until he led you out of here, it was best to be agreeable.

"You guess not." He repeats, tracing around one of your hardened nipples. They were straining as much from the chill that came from being wet out of water as they were from the arousal beginning to leak between your thighs.

"Clark..." You shudder, rutting against his knee. He watches you through eyes of amazement, almost amused by the fact that you don't know what to do with your hands. You trail wet fingers along the hair on his chest, dragging them down until they catch on the waistband of his shorts.

"You brave enough to pull them off for me?" He challenges and you forget how to breathe for a few seconds.

"Yeah." You reply, licking your lips. You could be. Slowly, you tug at his trunks until his cock hangs free, heavy and thicker than you know what to do with. The head is swollen and purple and angled towards your hips without him having to touch it. "Oh."

He gives himself a few slow strokes, groaning obscenities. You watch, throat tight as a bead of precum stretches from his tip and lands on your lower stomach. Without really thinking it through, you drop your fingers and smear his arousal under your bellybutton in a circle before dipping your fingers into your own bottoms.

"So there is another side to you." He grins, pulling your hand out and away from your most intimate place. "Easy. I'll get to you. Lift up."

You raise your hips and his cock brushes along your stomach. It was huge. If he was inside you right now, surely he'd be able to reach past your navel. The thought makes you clench and squirm beneath him. He peels down your bottoms and helps one of your legs out of the hole before knocking your knees apart.

"Look at you," Your boss coos, "So pretty. So ready for me."

Clark guides your hand to curl around his length, letting you figure out the right speed and pressure for yourself. It's difficult to concentrate on pleasing him when his own fingers start working you, though.

"I've fantasized about this." He tells you, rocking into your fist while he touches you.

"Really?"

"Every goddamn night." He grunts when your thumb catches over his slit. "Tell me if you've thought about me too. I need to know, baby."

"I have." You admit. You had touched yourself in the dark to that kiss, imagining he pinned you down and took you in a similar manner.

"Good." He kisses along your neck, sucking the pool water from your skin. "That's good."

Clark guides your hand away now, replacing it with his own. He gives two hard strokes and then squeezes his base, tapping his cock against your pelvis. You jerk, fresh arousal seeping into the shallow water.

"I want you." You whimper pathetically, both terrified and overcome with need. "Please, inside."

"I can't." He growls, barely restraining himself from just sheathing himself inside if you. "I'd need to prep you... to open you up. I don't have the patience for that right now, so you'll take what I give."

You swallow hard. You were mostly relieved but another part of you, a greedy part, wanted everything right now. But ultimately he was right. You didn't want your first time to be in this place. You wanted candles and silk sheets.

Clark bends your knees up and back, slotting his cock between your thighs and pelvis. After a torturous few seconds of nothing, he begins to thrust. You watch him fuck himself with your thighs, the drag of him across your own sensitive parts has you moaning even from the barest contact. Water splashes with every movement and little waves crash up around your ears.

All you can do is clutch his back, hands roaming the expanse of him while he works to get himself off. The hand that isn't keeping him upright drops between your ass cheeks and drags across your hole.

You flinch at the sensation, trying to move both towards and away from it. He circles thumb around the muscle, teasing and threatening to dip inside with a bit of pressure, but he never breaks that ring of muscle.

"Think you can come from this?" He teases. "Go on, give me a show. Pinch your nipples and let me see you come from me using you."

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes because he's being so mean, but it still feels so good. Ever the diligent little listener, you tug at your nipples and your back bows off the floor.

"Yeah, feels good huh?"

"Yeah." You moan, squeezing your thighs tighter.

"Yeah, feels so good let me treat you like a toy. But toys have to come on their own, don't they?" He adjusts his position before continuing to thrust into the space between your thighs. He's angled himself so that you barely feel him where you need to anymore, but he still feels every inch of pleasure that the plush of your legs can offer him. And by the look on his face, he's drowning in it.

"Clark." You sob, desperate to feel him rutting against you again, rather than the crease where your hip meets leg. "Please."

"Aw, you want me to touch you properly?" He rolls his hips.

You nod, pinching and rolling your pert nipples like he told you to, desperate for any stimulation you could get.

"I don't know, baby. You weren't that excited about my surprise..."

"I was." You gush. "I was– I am! I am, I love it Clark, I love it so much just please..."

"Don't lie to me." He scoffs, forcing your legs open so he can slap the apex of your thighs properly. The moment his hand comes down on you, your orgasm rips through you and floods your system with a cocktail of shame and ecstasy.

"Are you coming?" He sounds shocked. "You are." He slaps you again and you jerk, making a strangled noise. "Fuck that's pathetic, baby. Coming so hard and I didn't even touch you."

When your pleasure dies out you feel like curling up in a ball and dissolving, but Clark doesn't let you. He sits on top of your legs, holding you in place while he slowly stokes himself over your belly.

"I'm sorry." You sniff, looking up at him through bleary eyes.

"It's okay, sweetheart." He soothes. "I know you couldn't help it, you were just feeling too good."

You nod, lip wobbling.

"Shh, don't cry. You're just sensitive. That's something I'm gonna use to my advantage next time I get you in my bed. You want that?" He starts pumping himself faster, his thighs starting to shake. "You want me to tease you until you're begging for me like this? Shit, you're fun. I'm getting close."

Clark jerks himself off, looming over you. All you can do is watch, wishing it was your hands around his cock that brought him to an orgasm of his own, wringing those milky ropes from his balls. He shoots over your stomach with a hoarse shout, branding you as his own. He collapses beside you and you both lay in the shallows for a moment, catching your breath.

"Fuck." He says. "I needed that. Needed to mark you up. You okay baby?" He brushes a strand of hair stuck to your temple. His touch was far too tender now compared to his rough treatment of you only moments ago.

"I'm good." You say, letting the depth of what you'd just experienced sink in. There was a lot to process.

"We should do this again some time." Clark huffs, gliding his fingertips along your rib cage.

"Yeah." You gasp, shivering. "Just not in here."

"You really do hate this place." He laughs quietly, helping you up and drying you off. You dress quickly and pray that Clark remembers the way back. If he got you lost in here, you'd kill him.

From somewhere deep inside a secret research facility, someone watches you and Clark head out of view on a computer monitor. Dials and guide lights blink in a security room, indicating no danger imminent. Instruments functioning as expected. No entities detected. The man having been watching the exchange adjusts his belt and reaches for the intercom.

"Yeah, we got another null zone. And Central? You're not going to want to go in the Pool Area near Zone Four anytime soon."

There was a weird stain on one of the store's ceiling tiles. It looked like water damage, but the building inspector had told Clark not to worry about it when he first rented the place out for business. He wasn't particularly concerned. It hadn't spread in all his years of operation, but the dark spot above was hardly the most captivating thing on his mind that night. No, you won that title by a land slide.

"No. Please."

Your words had echoed in his thoughts since you'd said them that afternoon and he couldn't help imagining how else you'd beg for him if he had you here and now. He'd lay you out on the bed and you'd be worried someone might see you through the bars on the front windows.

"Let them." He'd croon, peeling off your clothes with a quiet, lethal prescion. Clark was a well practiced man. If he had to guess? You were not as experienced. How lucky then, that you had him to teach you. Guide you. Instruct you. And you'd listen so well, wouldn't you? All wide eyes and obedience. Not like his wife who was always too tired for sex.

"Not tonight, Clark. I'm busy, Clark." That was all he ever heard. Maybe her kicking him out had been a blessing in disguise. That way he didn't have to sneak you into his house while Barbra was at school. He could take his time with you here — although, the thought of claiming you in his own domain, of leaving the scent of you to taint his marriage bed made his cock jerk. He still loved his wife, but a man had needs.

He palms himself over the fabric of his boxers, groaning. Fuck, you'd please him so well. Fingers curled around his length, trepidation when you look up at him and realize the extent his size.

"It's okay." He'd reassure you. "I'll go slow." At first.

Clark pulls himself free, his heavy tip drooping and leaking. He swipes a thumb through the bead of pre and hisses, imaginging it was your tongue.

"Yeah, just like that, baby."

His motions mimics the way you'd tentatively lap at his flushed head before swallowing the first inch. He bucks into his fist the same measurement. You wouldn't be able to take him all the way into your throat yet, but you'd try. He ruts up into the tight ring of his fingers, fucking his palm like it was your mouth.

"Fuck." He pants. "You want to taste it? Gonna be good and swallow it all down? Come on."

His thrusts get rougher as he gets close. You'd try so hard to keep up with him, he imagines, your head between his thighs, spluttering and eyes leaking so pretty. He spills with a hoarse cry, spurting milky ropes up his stomach and chest. It brings him out of the fantasy and he lays back, shirt sticking to his skin with sweat and spend.

Shit, it was hot.

The putrid snow had melted within a day and a heat wave had promptly taken it's place. At least the store had air conditioning. He tucks himself into his boxers again and stands, headed to the bathroom to clean himself up properly and discard his shirt.

On the walk of shame back from the facilities, he hears a snap from downstairs. He pauses at the top of the basement steps, listening. There's a small shuffle and a squeak... right. The rat. Kat's trap must have caught it.

"Gotcha." He smirks. He doesn't bother to turn on the lights. God knows his electricity bill is high enough already, and besides, the orange streetlamp from outside creeps into the interior showroom well enough to illuminate it. Barely.

The cage rattles when he approaches the live trap next to the discount furniture.

"So you're the one who's been scaring my employees." He crouches, peering through the bars. What stares back at him is... wrong. He blinks, expecting the rodent to right itself through his strained vision but it doesn't.

The rat looks like it's duplicating in real-time, but stuck. Still. It was like someone rendered a digital model and hit copy/paste several times in a row. It had 5 tails, several feet, and far too many eyes to be settling. The creature was grotesque in a captivating kind of way.

"What the hell?" He says slowly, standing to full height. Maybe he should leave it until morning. Check again once he'd had some sleep and can confirm whether or not he was going crazy. But he didn't think he was. He felt as sane as could be. He turns to head upstairs but pauses when another oddity captures him.

A sliver of light where there should have been shadow catches his eye as he turns. There was an impossible gap in the wallpaper, luminance peaking out and throwing a line along the floor, inching towards him. This night was getting weirder and weirder. Maybe he was dreaming, but he could swear there was a splinter in reality. Right here, in the basement of his shop.

He creeps towards the gap in his wall, brows pinched. Clark places a hand a foot off from the sliver to feel for structural integrity. It was solid. Corporeal. The faded, peeling paper was perfectly intact. He slides his palm along the surface, coming nearer to the partition, and then his wrist simply phases through the plaster. He freezes, staring at his hand submerged in... something.

Slowly, he pulls back. His arm is perfectly intact. It feels normal when he wiggles his fingers and turns his wrist. How was that possible? He reaches out again and once more is met with no resistance. He can fit his entire arm into the mystery void and feel nothing but air behind it. He glances behind him, half submerged.

What did he have to lose should he step through this... portal? What did he have to lose if he never made it back? A wife who didn't love him. A dream he couldn't afford. A therapist who didn't truly give a shit about any of his problems. The risk of adventure was far too alluring to weigh against the cost of monotony. With a deep breath, he steps through.

Yellow. A florescent hum. The smell of a microwave someone neglected to clean. It was all vaguely familiar to him. The place he had stumbled into was huge. It looked like an empty office building but with no desks. No partitions. No windows. Just space. Endless, liminal, space. There was something off about it but he couldn't put his finger on what it might be. Apart from the fact that whatever this was logically shouldn't exist, it seemed almost comforting, in a way.

His feet had been cemented to the dank carpet as he scanned the rooms, but he forces himself to move now. Where was he?

"Hello?" He calls, not really expecting an answer.

He doesn't recieve one, which he supposes he might be grateful for. These walls were a papered labyrinth. There were so many paths and directions to choose. An infinite expanse of decisions that he meandered through and doubled back on. He shouldn't have to commit to any one route just yet. Clark trusted he'd find what he needed eventually, so he wanders this wonderland for hours.

It was early morning when he found his way back to where he'd come in, feeling along the walls for the exit. This place was incredible. He felt giddy, knowing he would have to show you what he had found at the first chance he got. There wasn't just office space back here; there were houses. Whole neighbourhoods. There was a laundry room and a parking garage and a pool. The pool would be the perfect way to get you alone again, promising you reprieve from the brutality of a California summer.

Besides from that, though, this place would be a little... unnerving for someone like you, he thought. It was tempting to lead you in here and let you get lost, only for him come to your rescue and let you cling to him while he led you anywhere. But that wouldn't be nescessary. You were already soft. The fear would simply make you pliable. All he had to do was bring you in and the rest would fall into place.

The wonky rat was still in its cage, content when Clark stumbled into the lower level of the store. Back to reality. Breifly, he wonders how long had the entrence had been here. How long had it remained veiled, hidden and waiting. Watching.

"I bet you come from inside there, don't you?" He crouches down in front of the rodent. It blinks many discordant eyes, sniffing. "This world isn't the right place for something like you."

With a sigh, he picks up the trap and sets it directly in front of that thin sliver in the wall. The creature barely moves, completely unafraid of the dizzying heights or the man lifting the trap.

"You should go home." Clark says, unlocking the mechanism to open the cage door. There's an ache in his chest, a kinship he feels upon seeing the rodent so out of place. "Just promise me not to come back and scare anyone. It's not good for buisness."

The rat ambles through the wall and into the backrooms, it's scaley tail disappearing.

"It's safer for you not to come back, anyway." He stares at the wall, half expecting it to return. "Ah, but what do you know. You're just a rat."

The Ottoman Empire was falling. Again. Maybe Clark didn't want to acknowledge that just yet, but you and Kat were starting to worry for your jobs. How was your boss supposed to keep paying you if customers hardly ever wandered in anymore?

Today was as typical a Thursday afternoon as any. The showrooms were empty but you were still on the clock. That meant finding menial tasks to perform so at least you'd appear busy if anyone did find their way into the store. It was a time filler, if anything. The retail workers equivalent of a barkeep drying a glass.

So there you were in your least favourite corner of the warehouse: the basement. It smelled musty and you always felt like you were being watched by unseen eyes. Maybe you were just weary of the security cameras, but nobody watched those anymore. Clark had fired the last guy a couple weeks back. Anyhow, you'd taken it upon yourself to dust off the furniture kept down here so that it might look a tad more desirable for sale. Nobody would be interested in buying a new table if it looked already looked used.

You hummed softly to the music playing over the sound system. "Who Wants To Live Forever" was on the radio for the third time today. Dust billows, making your nose twitch. You'd been so focused on keeping your mind off the unease that lingered between your shoulder blades that you hadn't noticed until it was too late. The rat, far too close for comfort.

It was perched atop the lampshade next to your head, so near that you could see your reflection in it's dark, beady eyes. You scream and the tiny whiskered devil sits on it's hind legs, gnashing it's terrible little teeth. Without thinking, you stumble backwards across the room and chuck the feathered duster at it. It misses by a mile but it does the trick.  The startled rodent hits the ground with a thud and scurried away, disoriented.

In it's daze, it bumps into the wall and– no. It didn't bounce off the cheap plaster like your brain had antipipated. It simply passed right through it. Gone.

You blink.

You blink again. There was definitely no lift in the wallpaper or rat sized hole for it to squeeze through. Then how...?

"What the fuck?" You whisper out loud, eyes glued to where the creature had been only moments ago. That hadn't been your eyes playing tricks on you, right? You'd actually seen that? Maybe you needed to get more sleep. Turning on your heel, you bolt up the stairs and nearly tumble right back down them when you run into someone at the top. Clark.

His arm wraps around your back to steady you, looking down with furrowed eyebrows.

"Woah–!" He catches you, pulling you away from the staircase. "What's going on? I heard you screaming from the office."

"Rat's back?" Kat calls from across the room, completely unbothered as she flips a page in her novel.

"Yeah." You clutch Clark's forearm without realising, trying to stabilise your breathing and get your stuttering heartbeat to go down. "There was... I thought I saw..."

"Alright, easy. Slow down." His expression shifts from one of concern to one of easy amusement now that he can see you're unharmed. "You got a set of lungs on you, kid. I thought something had happened to you with a shout like that. All that over a cuddly little pet?" He teases, keeping a hold of you.

"Anyone who keeps a rat for a pet needs to be mentally evaluated." You grumble, your fingers wrinkling his shirt sleeve. It was purple today. It looked good on him.

"I feel the same way about people who have cats." He nods seriously. "They aren't soft or cuddly, they're prickly little goddamn menaces." He narrows his eyes, nudging you towards his office down the hall before motioning to the basement. "Need me to go down and take care of it for you?"

"No. Thank you." You wrap your arms around yourself. "I think it's gone. There must be some kind of hole that they're coming in through down there. I think it went into the walls." Your mind rationalized the memory by adding a little nibbled out section of the wallpaper. That had to be what had happened. They'd chewed a tiny rat door through the plaster. It would only make sense.

"Shit." Clark swears, shaking his head. "Well, at least we know where they're coming from now." He rubs the side of his face before turning iver his shoulder. "Kat!" He calls and she looks up.

"What? You don't need to shout, I'm right here."

"Can you set up another trap down in the basement and then cover the store for a few minutes? I'm giving them a break."

"I don't need–" You begin to protest, nervously fidgeting your fingers.

"You need a breather after a scare like that." Clark insists, waving you down the hall. "Go on. My office. I'll join you in a second." He says gently before hollering again, "Got it, Kat?"

"Uh huh." She shoots an unmotivated thumbs up from behind the front desk. "Got it."

Clark knocks softly before entering his office, letting the door open slowly as if trying not to startle you. "Sorry about the mess." He apologizes like you hadn't eaten lunch in here a million times before. It was just as cluttered as always; with crudely sketched floorplans taped up on the walls and crumpled beside the wastebin. The faded calender which hung above the microwave displayed the page from March of last year and every available surface was covered in... stuff.

"It's alright." You promise him, setting down the pen you'd been toying with.

"Feeling better?" He shuts the door with a soft click and makes an upwards motion with his palm. "Outta my spot."

"Yeah." You stutter, shooting out of his office chair. "Sorry. I'm good to get back and help Kat now."

"Kat's got things covered." He squeezes past you and takes his seat like it were his rightful place on a throne. "Stay a while longer. You work so hard."

"Okay." One side of your lips lift in a smile. "Thanks. Where do I... uh... sit, though?"

"Anywhere you'd like." Clark says slowly, his eyes sliding up your body and catching on yours. Something behind his dark, rich irises begins to smoulder. His knees spread to dominate the already tight space and when you don't immediately move, he offers you a hint. "Come here."

He pats the desk in front of him, clearing a space in front of the boxy computer moniter for you to sit. Once you're perched in front of him he adjusts his legs to bracket yours, making you feel too large for the room but so small in his proximity.

The scent of him up close makes your head spin. Mid-range cologne and furniture varnish and faintly of beer — it brings you back to the night you spent here, pressed so near when you'd woken beside him. It had been a weird way to spend your birthday, but not an unpleasant one. His throat works while he watches you take a few deep breaths and suddenly you need to say something to break the silence. Anything.

"Your ring's off." You blurt before quite thinking it quite through.

Poor, naive you. You figured that it must have slipped off at some point, or maybe he'd removed it to eat a particularly messy lunch. Your observation was meant to be a friendly reminder for him to put it back on, but instead he seemed bashful.

"Oh." He looks down and clears his throat, flexing his left hand between you. "Uh, yeah. It is."

"Did you lose it?" Your eyes widen. That would be terrible.

"No. I uh... I didn't lose it." He explains hesitantly and it's then that you pick up on his discomfort. "I took it off. I don't think I'll be wearing it anymore."

Clark rubs the bridge of his nose and you finally put two and two together. Your cheeks heat and you feel like a world class idiot for not including 'divorce' on the list of reasons why one might be absent of their wedding band.

"Shit, Clark. I'm so sorry for bringing it up, I thought–"

"It's alright." He shakes his head and settles his hand above your knee, thumb rubbing small circles over your clothes. The contact is startling enough to cut off your embarrassment. "Barbra — my wife — she hadn't been happy with things for a while."

"Oh. Had you?" You ask softly, afraid to overstep. But he seemed willing to talk about it. Somewhat. That meant you could listen but you would try not to push too far.

"Had I what? Been happy?" Clark's fingers tighten on your thigh. "I guess not."

"What would make you?" You breathe as he stands up, looming above you and sliding his palm slowly towards your hip.

"What are you asking, baby?" His eyes drop to your lips and he nudges a knee between your own. It makes you swallow hard, shrugging in lieu of an answer. He should know. At least, you thought that he did. "Going all quiet on me again?"

"No." The syllable is barely audible.

"You are." He grins, but it's hungry. Voracious. "It's adorable."

You wet your parted lips as he moves in closer, tugging you to the very edge of his desk. Each anticipatory breath you take brings your chest closer to his own, patience waning along with the distance.

"That's alright, you can stay quiet. Let me do the talking for both of us. God knows my wife never let me get a word in otherwise." He cups your jaw, tilting your head back. "You'd be good for me though, wouldn't you?"

You nod, overwhelmed by him and his presumed sense of authority.

"I know you will be." He rasps. Your lashes flutter closed when you feel his breath on your cheek. The heat of his mouth drags along your bottom lip and his beard brushes your chin. You groan softly at the tease and a rumble of satisfaction sounds from within him. He's about to say something more but the approaching snap of flip-flops beyond the room preemptively cuts him off.

"Guys?" Kat calls from somewhere down the hall. "Bobby's out front, I'm outta here."

"Fuck." Clark growls, squeezing your jaw in his grip almost painfully before letting you go. "Sounds good." He calls back. "See you later." The ardor in his voice is barely restrained when he straightens and tries to step away.

"No." You whisper, grabbing at the front of his button up and fisting his monotone tie. "Please."

He tilts his head and smirks, both assessing you and listening for the front door to close behind Kat. When he hears it chime shut he huffs a short laugh, and then he's kissing you. It's hot and heavy and all too much but you pull him closer anyway. Your teeth clink and his tongue sweeps over yours, dominating you completely. You can't keep up. The only thing you can do his arch your back and pray he lets you breathe before you pass out.

Clark swallows all the little noises you make like he was starving for them. This intensity was something you'd never seen in him before. You knew him to be the humble, down on his luck, aspiring architect. Not this greedy man who was aggressive in his need.

When he pushes you away, his chest is heaving just as much as yours is. The front of his pants is bulging and his knuckles clench around the edge of the desk like he can barely restrain himself from touching you. He can't keep himself from not touching you either, because his other hand is still kneading the softness of your hip.

"Go home." He says, and you have to blink a few times before it computes.

"What? Why?" Your lip trmbles, still feeling his mouth on yours. Had you done something wrong?

He sighs a long, heavy sigh that tells you more than anything he could say. He was frustrated with himself. He was torn. He didn't regret the kiss but he couldn't let himself take things further in case he would later on.

"Please." His voice cracks. "I need some time to think about this. You're okay, alright? I'm not upset with you but I have to make sure I'm not being impulsive with this." A muscle in his jaw clenches. "I've been working on that in therapy."

"And how's that going for you?" You bite your lip, venturing to ease some of the cloying tension in the room. "The impulsivity?"

"Your clothes are still on, aren't they?" He says smoothly, scooting you off his desk. "Go on. You're free to take off early. I'll close up and see you tomorrow."

You swipe a bit of saliva from your chin and straighten your clothes before you leave his office.

"See you tomorrow." You echo, risking one last glance back at him. A mistake, perhaps.

He was looking like he wanted to eat you alive.

For the record, I would love to have a rat for a pet. They are actually so sweet and adorable.

There was a weird stain on one of the store's ceiling tiles. It looked like water damage, but the building inspector had told Clark not to worry about it when he first rented the place out for business. He wasn't particularly concerned. It hadn't spread in all his years of operation, but the dark spot above was hardly the most captivating thing on his mind that night. No, you won that title by a land slide.

"No. Please."

Your words had echoed in his thoughts since you'd said them that afternoon and he couldn't help imagining how else you'd beg for him if he had you here and now. He'd lay you out on the bed and you'd be worried someone might see you through the bars on the front windows.

"Let them." He'd croon, peeling off your clothes with a quiet, lethal prescion. Clark was a well practiced man. If he had to guess? You were not as experienced. How lucky then, that you had him to teach you. Guide you. Instruct you. And you'd listen so well, wouldn't you? All wide eyes and obedience. Not like his wife who was always too tired for sex.

"Not tonight, Clark. I'm busy, Clark." That was all he ever heard. Maybe her kicking him out had been a blessing in disguise. That way he didn't have to sneak you into his house while Barbra was at school. He could take his time with you here — although, the thought of claiming you in his own domain, of leaving the scent of you to taint his marriage bed made his cock jerk. He still loved his wife, but a man had needs.

He palms himself over the fabric of his boxers, groaning. Fuck, you'd please him so well. Fingers curled around his length, trepidation when you look up at him and realize the extent his size.

"It's okay." He'd reassure you. "I'll go slow." At first.

Clark pulls himself free, his heavy tip drooping and leaking. He swipes a thumb through the bead of pre and hisses, imaginging it was your tongue.

"Yeah, just like that, baby."

His motions mimics the way you'd tentatively lap at his flushed head before swallowing the first inch. He bucks into his fist the same measurement. You wouldn't be able to take him all the way into your throat yet, but you'd try. He ruts up into the tight ring of his fingers, fucking his palm like it was your mouth.

"Fuck." He pants. "You want to taste it? Gonna be good and swallow it all down? Come on."

His thrusts get rougher as he gets close. You'd try so hard to keep up with him, he imagines, your head between his thighs, spluttering and eyes leaking so pretty. He spills with a hoarse cry, spurting milky ropes up his stomach and chest. It brings him out of the fantasy and he lays back, shirt sticking to his skin with sweat and spend.

Shit, it was hot.

The putrid snow had melted within a day and a heat wave had promptly taken it's place. At least the store had air conditioning. He tucks himself into his boxers again and stands, headed to the bathroom to clean himself up properly and discard his shirt.

On the walk of shame back from the facilities, he hears a snap from downstairs. He pauses at the top of the basement steps, listening. There's a small shuffle and a squeak... right. The rat. Kat's trap must have caught it.

"Gotcha." He smirks. He doesn't bother to turn on the lights. God knows his electricity bill is high enough already, and besides, the orange streetlamp from outside creeps into the interior showroom well enough to illuminate it. Barely.

The cage rattles when he approaches the live trap next to the discount furniture.

"So you're the one who's been scaring my employees." He crouches, peering through the bars. What stares back at him is... wrong. He blinks, expecting the rodent to right itself through his strained vision but it doesn't.

The rat looks like it's duplicating in real-time, but stuck. Still. It was like someone rendered a digital model and hit copy/paste several times in a row. It had 5 tails, several feet, and far too many eyes to be settling. The creature was grotesque in a captivating kind of way.

"What the hell?" He says slowly, standing to full height. Maybe he should leave it until morning. Check again once he'd had some sleep and can confirm whether or not he was going crazy. But he didn't think he was. He felt as sane as could be. He turns to head upstairs but pauses when another oddity captures him.

A sliver of light where there should have been shadow catches his eye as he turns. There was an impossible gap in the wallpaper, luminance peaking out and throwing a line along the floor, inching towards him. This night was getting weirder and weirder. Maybe he was dreaming, but he could swear there was a splinter in reality. Right here, in the basement of his shop.

He creeps towards the gap in his wall, brows pinched. Clark places a hand a foot off from the sliver to feel for structural integrity. It was solid. Corporeal. The faded, peeling paper was perfectly intact. He slides his palm along the surface, coming nearer to the partition, and then his wrist simply phases through the plaster. He freezes, staring at his hand submerged in... something.

Slowly, he pulls back. His arm is perfectly intact. It feels normal when he wiggles his fingers and turns his wrist. How was that possible? He reaches out again and once more is met with no resistance. He can fit his entire arm into the mystery void and feel nothing but air behind it. He glances behind him, half submerged.

What did he have to lose should he step through this... portal? What did he have to lose if he never made it back? A wife who didn't love him. A dream he couldn't afford. A therapist who didn't truly give a shit about any of his problems. The risk of adventure was far too alluring to weigh against the cost of monotony. With a deep breath, he steps through.

Yellow. A florescent hum. The smell of a microwave someone neglected to clean. It was all vaguely familiar to him. The place he had stumbled into was huge. It looked like an empty office building but with no desks. No partitions. No windows. Just space. Endless, liminal, space. There was something off about it but he couldn't put his finger on what it might be. Apart from the fact that whatever this was logically shouldn't exist, it seemed almost comforting, in a way.

His feet had been cemented to the dank carpet as he scanned the rooms, but he forces himself to move now. Where was he?

"Hello?" He calls, not really expecting an answer.

He doesn't recieve one, which he supposes he might be grateful for. These walls were a papered labyrinth. There were so many paths and directions to choose. An infinite expanse of decisions that he meandered through and doubled back on. He shouldn't have to commit to any one route just yet. Clark trusted he'd find what he needed eventually, so he wanders this wonderland for hours.

It was early morning when he found his way back to where he'd come in, feeling along the walls for the exit. This place was incredible. He felt giddy, knowing he would have to show you what he had found at the first chance he got. There wasn't just office space back here; there were houses. Whole neighbourhoods. There was a laundry room and a parking garage and a pool. The pool would be the perfect way to get you alone again, promising you reprieve from the brutality of a California summer.

Besides from that, though, this place would be a little... unnerving for someone like you, he thought. It was tempting to lead you in here and let you get lost, only for him come to your rescue and let you cling to him while he led you anywhere. But that wouldn't be nescessary. You were already soft. The fear would simply make you pliable. All he had to do was bring you in and the rest would fall into place.

The wonky rat was still in its cage, content when Clark stumbled into the lower level of the store. Back to reality. Breifly, he wonders how long had the entrence had been here. How long had it remained veiled, hidden and waiting. Watching.

"I bet you come from inside there, don't you?" He crouches down in front of the rodent. It blinks many discordant eyes, sniffing. "This world isn't the right place for something like you."

With a sigh, he picks up the trap and sets it directly in front of that thin sliver in the wall. The creature barely moves, completely unafraid of the dizzying heights or the man lifting the trap.

"You should go home." Clark says, unlocking the mechanism to open the cage door. There's an ache in his chest, a kinship he feels upon seeing the rodent so out of place. "Just promise me not to come back and scare anyone. It's not good for buisness."

The rat ambles through the wall and into the backrooms, it's scaley tail disappearing.

"It's safer for you not to come back, anyway." He stares at the wall, half expecting it to return. "Ah, but what do you know. You're just a rat."

"How the hell is it snowing in June?" You ask, sitting cross legged before the full length windows at the front of the store. Condensation has gathered on the interior glass and you watch between the bars on the double doors as a nasty blizzard whips flurries of snow through the parking lot. The flakes are so thick that you can barely see all the way to the street from here. Weather like this was certainly not seen in California. Ever.

"Freak storm." Clark says from somewhere behind you where he's making up the beds. "They've been talking about global warming on the news a lot."

"Yeah, but global warming is... warming. Not freezing." You turn around, pushing yourself up off the floor. "You think I could make it home in that?"

"Absolutely not." He tucks a corner of sheet rather decidedly. "You aren't going anywhere until those winds die down at least. I'm not letting you get lost out there."

You trudge over to him, sulking theatrically and your loud sigh makes his eyebrows raise. You'd gotten a lot more comfortable with him over the course of just one evening. Perhaps he'd won over your trust somehow, because you were much more open with him this morning. Like a flower, finally having found the right conditions to bloom.

"It's not that bad."

"It's boring."

"Then find something to do." He suggests rather unhelpfully.

"Do you have a CD player?" You ask hopefully, eager to listen to your new album he gifted you.

"I'm afraid not at the store." He scratches the back of his neck. "You'll have to think of something else to keep you occupied for a while."

A small, dejected grunt sounds as you think. Then, your face lights up.

"We could play house."

"Ah, come on." Clark waves a hand and glances your way. "I do enough role-playing with my therapist–"

"But I'm not your therapist." You point out and he inclines his head. That you were not. "Please?"

"What the hell." He mutters under his breath. "Sure."

You're practically humming with glee as you skip over to one of the showroom couches, flopping down onto the sofa like you owned it. The TV on the media stand adjacent isn't plugged in but you settle down anyway and pretend to be engrossed in a program on the blank screen. He's never seen you quite this... alive. This at ease.

"Hey!" You look back at him as if just noticing he was there for the first time. "You're home! I was waiting up for you."

"Hey." He hovers awkwardly on the edge of the rug. He hadn't expected you to begin straight away. "Uh... Who am I supposed to be?"

"You can be my..." The word 'husband' takes shape on your tongue, sitting heavy before dissolving. "Roommate."

"Roommate. Yeah. Okay." He clears his throat, shaking out his arms to get into character.

"I was waiting up for you." You prompt again, propping your hand under your chin.

"Sorry, work went late. I had a client who wanted to add another closet to the master bedroom. It would have offset the whole upper floor if I allowed the redesign and it would have unstabilised the entire structure on a ground level. We'd have to add more support beams and- and cross beams, and– you don't care about any of that." He picks up your legs and sits beside you on the couch, setting your feet back down in his lap. "Uh... what... what show are you watching?" He gestures to the blank TV.

A picture of domestic bliss is reflects in the domed screen.

"Blossom." You hum, pretending to be thoroughly engaged in an episode. He'd never heard of it. "Are you sure it was just work? It's nearly midnight."

"That late?" He checks his watch. "Jeez. What are you still doing up, then? You should be in bed. Don't you have that exam tomorrow?"

"Ugh, yeah. I forgot about that." You roll your eyes dramatically. "But I already told you, I was waiting for you to get home."

"Mm. That's real sweet of you." He rubs your leg, giving it an affectionate pat. "But you know the rule. Lights out at ten."

"Ten!"

"You heard me." He switches off the imaginary show with an imaginary remote. "To bed with you." He grabs your ankle and pulls you all the way into his lap before standing with you in his arms.

"Clark!" You squeak, grabbing tightly around his neck and shoulders.

"Don't 'Clark' me." He scoffs, toting you towards the nearest mattress. "It's not up for discussion."

"But–"

"Not. Up. For. Discussion." He drops you on top of the duvet with a huff. You bounce once and he leans over top of you, bracketing you in. "We've talked about this before." His voice drops a quiet octive and he watches your pupils dilate. "I'll let you off the hook this time, but if I catch you up past your bedtime again, there will be consequences. Understand?"

"I... I... Uh huh." You nod, pulling in an uncertain breath while you gaze up at him.

It had been a long time since anyone had looked at him like that; so wide and trusting. So... young. Part of him relishes in the fact that he could still garner such a reaction, yet another withers with guilt. Maybe this was wrong. He was meant to be responsible for you, not leading you on.

"Shit. Sorry." He shakes his head, snapping back to Clark the store owner. Clark your boss. "That was... I'm sorry."

"It's okay." You say softly, biting your lip and trying desperately not to appear as affected as he knows you are. "Why don't you choose a scene this time? We can try something else."

"Fuck it. Okay." He glances around the uninspiring warehouse for a place to start a new scenario. "Uhh..." He scans the room, eyes landing on the front desk. "Here. I'll be a hotel manager and you can be my guest."

"Your fancy guest." You snatch the feathered tricorn hat off the pirate mannequin that faces the front door and pose with it on your head. "How's this?"

"Perfect." He stutters, rubbing his beard. "Good."

"Good. Let's start." You giggle, dragging the mannequin over to the desk as Clark sits down behind it. He grabs the book that Kat keeps for slow days, pretending to read as you enter the imitation lobby.

"Ahem." You clear your throat, one arm draped around the mannequin and the other ringing a fake bell on the counter. "Ding ding, two to check in, please."

"Ah, hello and welcome to Clark's Best Hotel." He looks up. "Do you have a reservation with us?"

"We do." You affirm, kissing the statue on the cheek. "Mwah. We're on our honeymoon."

"Newly weds?" He grins. "How is married life treating you both so far?"

"Perfectly well." You say, then squeal, pretending that the dummy hand had grabbed a handful of your ass. "Honey! Not in front of the staff!"

Clark shakes his head and stifles a laugh, trying to stay in character.

"It's perfectly alright." He assures you before adding, "It actually happens all the time. Allow me to show you to your room."

"Thank you."

He rounds the desk and leads you and your plastic husband through a long, winding imaginary hotel hallway.

"And here we are." He stops before one of the display bedroom sets and unlocks an invisible door. "I'm afraid the honeymoon suites were overbooked by mistake, but I hope you will enjoy this smaller, discounted room instead."

You scoff in false disdain, throwing your hat to the floor in pretend tantrum. "This is completely unacceptable! I was promised a double king bed with chocolates on it!"

"Well, I can toss a mint on the sheets if that would make you feel better..." He rummages around in his jean pockets. "I think I've still got a hard candy in here somewhere..."

"How unprofessional!" You turn to the mannequin. "Tell him, my love. Tell him it's unprofessional."

"Yes." You drop your voice, assuming a deeper tone. "This is completely ridiculous. We were promised an entire suite."

"Booking mix up, I'm afraid." Clark shrugs. "Nothing to be done."

"Nothing but this–!" You exclaim, throwing up your hands in a boxing stance. Your elbow extends, throwing a slow punch at him and stopping just short of his abdomen. "Take this! And this!"

"Ah!" He grunts, doubling over as if you actually got a hit on him. His fingers curl around an imaginary walkie talkie at his shoulder and he shouts, "Security to room 302 immediatly, I have a combative guest." He blocks a few more of your punches and you pretend to knee him in the stomach. "Ouch–! I repeat, a very combative guest."

The next time you go for a punch, he catches your fist mid-air and spins you around, trapping your back against his chest. One strong arm bands around your middle, pinning your elbows to your sides and his other hooks around your neck. The scent of his deoderant envelops you just as suddenly and he holds you in a headlock with just enough pressure to make your heart stutter.

"Honey, do something!" You gasp, going limp against him and barely daring to breathe. Every inch of him was pressed along the length of you.

"Oh no, your husband seems to be running away." He croons, ribs expanding behind you. "He's no match for me, isn't that right?"

You grunt, head going fuzzy when he tightens his arm just enough to threaten your breathing. But you're not scared. Clark would never hurt you.

"Yeah, that's right. Neither are you." He chuckles, breath tickling your neck. "Say it."

"Never!"

"Say it." He sing songs, dragging you back a step as if drawing you into the hotel room with him. "All you have to say is 'I'm no match for you, Mr. Hotel Manager. You're too strong for me.' Go on. It's just a few little words."

"No." You pant, feeling your pulse quicken. It's exhilarating to be held like this; Tight. Immobile. Close.

"No?" He repeats, nose nudginig into your hair. "Why not?" He asks softly. "Is using your words too hard?"

You shudder, dropping your head againt his shoulder and your hips twitch involentarily.

"Aw." He huffs, tightening his arm around your stomach and replacing the crook of his elbow around your throat with his hand. He tilts your head back even further, still keeping that even pressure around your windpipe with his fingers. "Was this your plan all along? Was this what you needed? To be put in your place and be told what to say? When to breathe?"

The look on your face tells him all he needs to know.

"It's okay to say 'yes'." He murmurs, smirking when your eyes glaze over entirely.

"Yes." You breathe, and he rewards you with a slow, subtle roll of his own hips against your backside.

"See? That wasn't so hard." He gradually relaxes his hold on you, fingers trailing along your collarbone before falling away.

"Clark?" His name was shakey falling from your lips and you don't turn around just yet.

"Yeah?" He answers, husky.

"It's stopped snowing."

It takes him a few seconds to shift gears.

Against his better judgement, he'd been ready to throw out a few lines he'd heard used in bad pornos since you seemed just as eager to continue your little role play as he was. But like a switch being flipped, your attention was now out the window and not so much in his arms. Though he could tell that his touch was lingering.

"Huh." He adjusts himself, trying to ignore how tight his jeans have gotten. "It has."

"We should go see."

Clark was not exactly angling to be cooling down after your racy back and forth, but he lets you drag him out into the plaza anyway because the phenomenon of getting snow in the middle of summer was bizzare to say the least. A few shopping carts lay abandoned and half burried in the middle of the parking lot and the overcast sky was already starting to warm up again. The powder creaked beneath his nice sneakers and he looked over to where you were sniffing a handful of the icy flakes.

"It smells weird." You curl your lip, dusting off your hands. "Kinda sweet, but still gross. Sickly."

He packs a ball for himself and he has to agree. It smelled like the rot of an orchard at the end of a season. Overripe.

"I'm gonna taste it." He decides, overtaken by the juvenile urge to discover by licking things that probably shouldn't be licked.

"What? Ew, no!"

But he was already lapping at it like a snow cone.

"Weird." He says, holding it at arms length and smacking his lips. It tasted like nothing, mainly. Hints of an acrid sweetness came through but it wasn't revolting. Just unnatural. A little off. "You can eat it."

"I'll pass." You knock the snowball from his hand and shiver. "Will you drive me home now that the wind has stopped? I've had a nice time, but I really want to listen to my new CD now."

"Of course." He agrees, swiping his chilled fingers along your cheek. "Just let me grab my keys."

Them basically RP-ing as the couple in the IKEA showrooms.... god I've always wanted to do that with someone but alas, no IKEA and nobody to go with. (So which one of you wants to travel to an IKEA and play toxic relationships with me??) Also, IKEA horror is so peak. I hope that the Horrorstore movie will be good because that book was a banger. I should probably not have read it so young bc it made me sick to my stomach, but thats ok I turned out good 😍😋

"Don't tell me someone like you would rather be stuck behind a desk on a Saturday." He frowned in mock displeasure. "You gotta get out more. Live a little. You don't want to end up like me, now, do you?"

And you would just giggle and shrug, saying how you didn't see the issue. You'd tell Clark that you thought he was a perfectly nice guy and there was nothing wrong with preferring some peace and quiet. That you were more of a homebody anyways. He didn't believe that for a second, though. It was the same excuse that he used to give out and sometimes still did, when someone bothered ask.

They rarely did anymore.

He was well aware that the world tended to pass people like you by, so he made sure to check up on you without making it too obvious. But when he found out you didn't have any plans for your 21st birthday? He wouldn't let that slide. He couldn't.

"Hear your birthdays coming up." He raps his knuckles on a lovely side table (walnut brown, only $99.98 for the set), sauntering up to you.

"It is." You smile, straightening up a living room display.

"You going out? Any crazy plans I should be worried about? Terrorizing the town?" He teases, knowing damn well you're probably going to spend it at home.

"Something like that." You shake your head, scoffing. He knows full well you're intent on spending the day alone. Like last year. Like him.

"No bar? Really? Most people jump at the opportunity to get their first legal taste. What's your drink of choice, anyway? You into beer? Tequila?" He tilts his head, assessing before he claps and points at you with a triumphant finger. "I know. You like a good cocktail, don't you."

"Maybe." You say, straightening one of the display pillows on the sofa (Continental, $600.00). "I wouldn't really know, I've never tried anything before. You're not supposed to drink until you're twenty one, you know." You give him a rather pointed look.

"Everybody does, though." He sits down on the pattered sofa, clasping his hands between spread knees. "I did. Kat and Bobby did. I'm sure you didn't, though. Too much of a rule follower, huh? Hey — let me buy you your first drink, then. If you haven't already got plans."

You laugh as if you think he's joking, sobering when he doesn't join you.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. Why not? Unless I've overstepped. In which case I thoroughly apolagise and—"

"No." You cut him off softly. "No, you didn't overstep. Um... yeah." A small smile hides in the corners of your lip. "That would be nice. Thank you."

.

The bar Clark takes you to is respectable. It was his usual spot, just off the main road and not too seedy. He pulled out a small, wrapped gift and handed it to you when you were settled next to him on the high stool.

"Happy Birthday." He murmurs over the old country music twanging through the speakers. "Got you something."

"You didn't have to!" You exclaim, accepting the present as if it were far more valuable than the retail price he'd purchased it for.

"Go on. See what it is." He sits back as you carefully tear away the paper, watching your eyes light up when you see the latest CD you'd been wanting.

"Oh my god, Clark! How did you know!?"

"Heard you talking with Kat the other day. Did I get it right?"

"Yeah, this is so thoughtful." Your thumb runs over the tracklist on the back of the plastic case. "Thank you so much."

"You're welcome." Pride warms his chest at being able to make you smile so genuinely. He didn't have much to feel fuzzy about recently, but somehow you always managed to bring a little bit of sunshine to his life through the seperation.

"How is it?" He grins as you take your first sip of beer. He watches you mull it over, the dull, fermented bubbles sliding down your throat and he can tell you don't like it before you can.

"It's... fine." Your nose wrinkles.

"Here, we can trade." He switches the glasses between you so that you can try a different brew. "This one's darker, maybe you'll like it better."

Another sip. Another wrinkle of your nose.

"Yeah." You say uncertainly, licking your lips. "It's good."

"You don't have to lie to me." He chuckles fondly, taking back the drink. "Beer's not for you, noted. You got a sweet tooth, right?"

"I do." You nod, but he already knew that.

Sometimes he'd bring some of those grocery store cookies he knows you like to work — the soft ones. The ones that were so full of sugar that his wife insisted would give him diabetes. It was cute to watch your eyes widen every damn time he offered you one, as if you were intruding just by being in the same room as them. As if the only reason he bought them wasn't for you.

"Gotta get some shots in you, then. A Burt Reynolds. Lemon Drop. Jelly Donut. You'll love em, trust me."

And you did.

Love them.

Trust him.

By midnight you were buzzed. By 1 am you were happy just to be there, seeming more relaxed than he'd ever seen you. By 2 you were getting dozy and he figured it was time to get you home.

"Must be past your bedtime, huh?" He ribs as he collects all your belongings, making sure you've got your coat on properly before paying the tab and guiding you out of the pub. It was getting rowdy now. It was that part of the night when fights started to break out amongst patrons and security would be earning their salary. You didn't need to see all that.

"C'mon." He positions himself between you and a particularly drunk, slobbering buffoon of a man near the bar on your way out. He knocks into Clark instead when he sways, him being the physical barrier between the man and you. You'd've be crushed otherwise. "Let's get you to bed."

"Mm, thank you, Clark." You wobble out on the sidewalk, planting a sloppy kiss on his cheek. "I'had such a'nice time."

"Yeah? I'm glad to hear that, sweetheart."

The two of you catch a cab and once he's got you settled in the backseat with him, he realizes that he doesn't know your address. You're a little too borderline drunk to relay it to him with any coherence, which provides a bit of a conundrum when the driver asks:

"Where to?"

It's not like he can take you back to his place, exactly. Not with his wife who already seems to hate him enough as it is, and not when she's on the verge of serving him divorce papers already. The next best option (and really the only one) is to let you stay over where he's slept every night since his marriage began unraveling in earnest.

"Cap'n Clark's Ottoman Empire."

The parking lot of some gone-under furniture store is an odd place to deliver a grown man and someone half his age at nearly 3 in the morning, but the taxi driver isn't paid to ask.

You're stumbling a little and singing to yourself when you try to get out of the cab, only to slip right back on the seat with an uncoordinated yelp.

"'M stuck." You scrabble, legs flailing and arms grabbing at the passanger headrest.

"I can see that." Clark shakes his head and suppresses a laugh, taking your hand and helping you upright. "I got you."

"Why 're we'at work?" Your words are slurred, slouching against his side while he fishes for his keys to the front door. The taxi peels out of the lot and drives on down the street. Slowly, as if the cabbie was curious to see where you'd go.

"Because you need somewhere to sleep and I don't know where you live."

"I don't know where you live." You mumble. "You prob'bly live 'n the back now. 'N the back rooms." A new fit of laughter comes over you so hard that you need to squat down.

He wasn't sure what was so funny about living in a retail store. Pathetic? Absolutely. But funny? He didn't think so. How did you know, anyway? He purposefully handled the closing shifts himself so that none of you would find out that both his home and career lives were collapsing. Hopefully it was just the mindless rambling of someone who'd had one too many drinks and you weren't truly aware of the accuracy to your statement.

You're pretty much asleep on your feet by the time he's ushered you inside, found the light switches, and then locked up again.

"Maybe I should've gone easy on you for your first time." He says to himself, guiding you towards the mattress department. He feels you tense underneath his palm, realizing in hindsight what he'd said. "I meant, having you stick to just one shot." He clears his throat. "One drink."

"But I liked them... all." You defend.

"That's for sure." He steadies you with his warm hands on your shoulders and you try to lean back against him. "Go on then. Choose a mattress, any mattress."

"T' sleep on?" You blink slowly.

"Yeah, to sleep on. What else are you going to be doing on it?"

"Not sleeping." You muffle a snort. That little comment raises his eyes to the ceiling, fixing on the sign that promises MORE DOWN STAIRS and he has to pray to keep his mind from wandering to what 'not sleeping' with you could entail. "A mattress for me?"

"Yup." He has to clear his throat again. "Yes. We'll sleep in the same room, but not on the same bed." He assures you, but perhaps it's more himself that he's needing to placate.

"Like a sleepover." You cackle at the absurdity of someone as old as him engaging in slumber parties.

"It's not a sleepover." He rolls his eyes, pulling back the duvet to his usual bed (a twin mattress and solid softwood frame, marked down to $459.99). "It's a... a... hm. Okay," He relents, "It's a sleepover.

You settled quickly after that. All it took once getting you into bed was to turn on a late night weather channel to a low volume and you fell right to sleep. The soft, even rhythm of your breaths just a few feet away were a soothing balm to Clark's fraying nerves these last few months. He found it all too easy to close his eyes in the dim of the store and soon, he was out too.

.

"–could be headed for the San José area in what experts are calling an Asynchronous Flurry. Heavy rains and even snow are in the upcoming forecast despite temptures having been up to seventy one degrees Fahrenheit or twenty two degrees Celsius this past week." The television set clicks on at exactly 4:44 in the morning, startling the two of you awake.

"Clark?" You whisper, his name thick with sleep.

"Mm?" He grunts, cracking open an eye.

"TV."

"I hear it."

"Turn it off." You grumble, pulling the sheets over your head.

"I thought you turned it on." His eyebrows crease together. He hadn't touched the thing and the remote was gone from the dresser displayed between your two beds.

"No. Just turn it off." You flop a pillow over your head. "Wanna sleep."

"Okay, okay." He rushes out of bed to power off the staticky screen. "There."

You mumble a half cognisant 'thanks' as he settles back on his mattress. Before he can close his eyes again, however, the lights come on. Every single overhead flourecent hums to life, the floor lamps and side lights all surging brighter than he thought was possible.

"Clark?" You say again, alarmed this time as you unearth from the colour blocked duvet. "What's happening?"

"Huh? Oh. Nothin'" He says slowly, scanning the furniture shop for anything that looked out of place. But there's nothing astray. Not a single thing. Everything looked proper. "The lights just act up sometimes."

The bulbs flicker out of sync and in a strange, staccato pattern before plunging the warehouse store into darkness — save for a single lamp downstairs. The glow is menacing. You found the basement to be eerie at the best of times, but the ominous light made it seem even more... wrong.

"What's going on?"

"Wiring issues." He tells you, unconvinced of the explanation himself. "The building's old."

As if on cue, the lamp downstairs blinks out and your breath catches in your throat.

"I'm scared." You admit, and the shakey whisper tugs at his protective instincts for you.

"Don't be scared." He says warmly, feeling his way over to your bed. "I'm right here. Nothing's gonna get you without going through me first. That's just how it goes." The mattress dips under his weight when he sits and his hand finds yours under the covers.

"Are you sure it's just the wiring?"

"A hundred percent." He soothes. "Scoot over. The heating might have gone too, and it can get chilly at night without it.

Clark remains above the blankets all night but that doesn't stop you from cuddling up to him. He wakes with you tucked under his chin, an arm of his slung over your waist and your breath tickling his neck. It was a casual intimacy he thought he might like to get used to again. A warm body. The silent companionship. He hadn't realized just how long it had been since he'd felt like this with someone, or of how much he'd wanted it again.

When you sighed and inched impossibly closer he tightened his hold and let his lips brush along your hairline.

"Just sleep." He murmurs, barely a whisper. "Just a little bit longer."

“Wow,” you say “This place is ugly. But I still look cute here.”

Usopp looks at you “How are you so calm?!”

You shrug “If I die, I die hot.”

Nami sighs “I don’t know why I travel with you.”

You hear footsteps. A man in a long coat stands ahead. Tattooed hands. Cold eyes.

Trafalgar Law.

He looks at the crew like they are bugs.

“So,” Law says “Straw Hat-ya.”

You step forward before Luffy can talk.

“Hi!” you say brightly “You’re tall. I like that.”

Everyone freezes.

Law looks at you “…What?”

You smile wider “Your voice is nice too.”

Sanji gasps “HEY! That’s not fair!”

Zoro smirks “You got guts.”

Law narrows his eyes “This is not a joke.”

“Oh, I’m serious,” you say “Enemies can flirt too, you know? Enemies to lovers!”

Law turns away “Annoying.”

You clap your hands “He noticed me!”

Luffy laughs “You’re always so funny!”

Law lifts his hand “ROOM.”

The world twists.

You blink.

Your body feels… wrong.

Very wrong.

You look down.

Big metal arms.

A loud voice comes out of your mouth.

You scream “WHY AM I LOUD?!”

Franky’s voice answers from somewhere else “WHY AM I SHORT?!”

You look around and see your body in the distance.

Franky is in it.

He moves your hands “This body is weird!”

You touch your face. Hard metal.

“Oh, we’re at it again…” you say slowly “I’m Franky. Ah ah.”

Law watches the chaos with calm eyes.

You walk toward him.

Each step is heavy.

You stop next to Law and lean down a bit.

“Hey,” you say, grinning “Isn’t that one cute?”

You point at your real body far away, where Franky is still panicking.

Law looks at you.

Then at your body.

Then back at you.

“…You’re stupid.”

You rest your big metal hand on your hip “I’m just trying to flirt.”

Law clicks his tongue “You’re seriously irritating.”

“But you’re still looking…” you tease.

Law turns his back “Focus on surviving.”

You laugh and turn to the rest of the crew that was half laughing and half in disbelief “He’s shy!”

Sanji screams in the background “STOP FLIRTING WITH THE ENEMY!”

Law mutters, almost too quiet, “This alliance is going to be hell.”

You smile to yourself.

“Oh yeah,” you think “this is going to be fun.”

Everyone sits together in the cold.

Luffy stands in front. Law stands near him, arms crossed. His face is serious.

“This is an alliance,” Law says “We work together to take down Kaido.”

The crew starts talking at the same time.

“Kaido?!”

“That’s crazy!”

“Why him?”

You sit on quiet.

Your eyes are on Law.

You don’t blink.

You don’t move.

Nami notices and leans closer “Are you even listening?”

“Yes,” you say “With my eyes.”

She follows your gaze and groans “Of course.”

Law explains everything. The plan. The danger. The rules.

You nod sometimes, but you don’t really hear him. You just watch how his mouth moves when he talks.

Finally, Law stops.

“Any questions?” he asks.

You slowly raise your hand.

Law looks at you. He already looks tired.

“…That is about the alliance.” he says.

You freeze.

Then slowly lower your hand.

You smile. Small. Guilty. Like a kid caught eating chocolate.

Law closes his eyes “…Good.”

Luffy laughs “What were you gonna ask?”

You tilt your head “If he sleeps with his hat on.”

Law opens his eyes again “I said good.”

Boom.

Everything shakes.

“Enemies!” someone yells.

And then chaos starts.

You all run in different directions. Smoke fills the hall. Ice cracks. Fire explodes.

You fight. You dodge.

But Law is always far away.

Every time you see him, something blocks you.

An explosion. A wall. A giant enemy.

“HEY, TALL DARK AND ANGRY!” you shout once.

He doesn’t hear you, or he pretends not to.

Hours pass like that.

Finally, everyone meets again near the exit.

The island is breaking.

“We’re leaving!” Luffy shouts.

The ship starts moving.

Only now, when everything is calm, you breathe out.

You look around.

Then you see Law standing near the wall, arms crossed again.

You walk closer slowly.

He looks at you from under his hat “What.”

You smile. Tired but bright.

“So,” you say, “we survived together. That’s kind of romantic.”

“…Don’t start.”

You sit on the floor near him anyway.

The ship moves forward.

Punk Hazard disappears behind you.

You grin.

“Now,” you think, “we finally have time.”

Dressrosa is loud.

People laugh loud. Music plays loud. Colors everywhere, loud. Pink buildings, loud. Blue sky, loud.

You walk behind Law.

He doesn’t look at the city.

He doesn’t look at anyone.

He walks like he already knows how this ends.

You see it but you don’t say it.

Instead, you smile.

“So,” you say, hands behind your back, “sunny places really suit you. Makes you look mysterious.”

Law doesn’t slow down “Focus.”

“I am focused,” you reply “On you.”

He exhales sharply “That’s the problem.”

Luffy runs ahead, yelling about food, as usual. You watch Law’s shoulders tense when Luffy is gone, like now there is no shield.

You step closer “You okay?”

“I said focus.” he repeats, colder.

You nod “Okay…”

You stop talking for three whole minutes. That’s a record.

Then a loud voice breaks the air.

“STRAAAAWHAT SENPAI—!”

A man with green hair and wild eyes jumps in front of you all.

He is shaking.

Crying.

Laughing.

Bartolomeo.

Luffy blinks “Huh?”

Bartolomeo points at him, trembling “It’s really you…!!”

You tilt your head “Wow.”

Bartolomeo turns to you.

Freezes.

His face turns red.

“…Oh no,” you say softly “You’re actually cute.”

He makes a choking sound.

Law stops walking and slowly turns his head.

You step closer to Bartolomeo, smiling wide “You’re very… intense. I like that.”

Bartolomeo is dying “I— I— STRAWHAT SENPAI’S CREW—?!”

You laugh “Relax. I don’t bite. Unless asked.”

Law clicks his tongue “We don’t have time for this.”

You glance back at him “Jealous?”

“I am not—”

“You are…” you say easily, then turn back to Bartolomeo “What’s your name?”

“B-Bartolomeo!”

“Cute name,” you say “Fits you.”

He drops to his knees.

Law rubs his forehead “Unbelievable…”

Luffy laughs loudly. Bartolomeo looks at Law, then at you, then back at Law.

“…Captain Law looks scary.” he whispers.

You grin “He’s soft.”

Law snaps, “I am not.”

You shrug “See? Very soft.”

Bartolomeo nods seriously “I understand.”

Law glares at both of you.

You keep talking with Bartolomeo as you walk. You tease him. Compliment him. Call him cute again.

Every time, you feel Law’s eyes on you.

Annoyed.

But still there. Still watching you.

At one point, you laugh a little too loud.

Law stops again “You’re distracting.”

You look at him, smiling, voice light “Good.”

He stares at you “What.”

You blink innocently “What?”

He turns away “…This alliance is just a big mistake.”

Luffy suddenly puts a hand on Law’s shoulder.

Big smile.

“Don’t worry,” Luffy says “Y/N does that every time with everyone. Isn’t it funny?”

Law looks at Luffy. Then at you. Then away.

“…No.”

You smile wider, because he answered and because for just a moment he isn’t thinking about dying on what obviously is for him a suicidal mission.

Dressrosa breaks apart.

Stone explodes. People scream. Smoke fills the air.

Everyone is separated.

You fight alone in a narrow street. An enemy jumps at you again and again. You dodge. You hit back.

You don’t smile.

You don’t joke.

You breathe hard.

“Stay down.” you say, serious.

The enemy laughs and throws you.

Your body flies through the air.

You crash into something or someone.

Nico Robin actually catches you before you hit the ground.

You blink.

Then you look around fast and see Cavendish.

“And who might you be—” he starts.

But your eyes move past him.

You meet Law’s eyes.

He’s being carried bridal-style.

Blood on his coat.

Face pale.

Law looks at you and waits.

You know what he expects… a joke, a tease. Something like “Wow, carried by a pretty boy?” or “Lucky you.”

You don’t do it.

“…You okay?” you ask Law.

Law blinks.

“Yes..” he answers.

You nod “Good.”

That’s it.

You turn away and jump back into the fight.

Your enemy is still there actually enjoying the scene. You hit them harder this time.

Behind you, Cavendish looks confused. Law keeps looking at your back and the way you move.

Focused. Strong. Serious. For once…

“…Tch.” he mutters.

But this time there is no anger in it… just something new, quiet. Something like “Maybe… they’re not that bad after all.”

The war ends.

The sky is finally quiet.

Dressrosa breathes again.

Later, everyone gathers inside a wooden house. Old. Simple. Warm.

You sit on the floor with the others.

Sabo is talking.

His voice is calm. Soft. Heavy.

He talks about Luffy. About their past. About losing memories. About finding them again.

You listen.

No jokes. No teasing. No flirting.

Your hands rest on your knees. Your eyes don’t move.

This is not how you usually are.

The room is quiet when Sabo finishes.

Someone laughs nervously “Wow… that was heavy.”

“Yeah…” Usopp says.

The mood slowly breaks. People talk again. Small jokes. Relief.

Then Robin smiles at you.

“Hey,” she says “Y/N, isn’t Sabo exactly your type? You haven’t even talked to him!”

Everyone looks at you.

You smile.

You nod.

“Yeah,” you say “He is.”

Then you pause and your smile softens “But… I don’t feel like it today.”

The room freezes.

“…What?” Usopp says.

You look around. Everyone is staring at you like you said something impossible.

You feel strange.

Then your eyes meet Law’s, just for a second, but to you, it feels endless.

His face is serious. As always.

But his eyes… they’re kinda different, surprised even. Like he didn’t expect that answer.

Someone suddenly laughs “Wow! That’s new!”

Another hand pushes you lightly “Go on, go say hi!”

You stumble forward, right toward Sabo.

You play along.

You smile again. A little brighter. A little fake.

“So,” you say, joking, “guess I missed my chance, huh?”

Sabo laughs easily “Guess so.”

He looks at you kindly “You seem… tired.”

You shrug “Maybe.”

He smiles “Another time, then.”

“Yeah,” you answer “Another time.”

Everyone laughs again. The moment passes.

But you don’t see Law’s hands tighten. You don’t see his jaw clench.

You don’t know how much he hates this feeling in his chest.

How much he hates that someone pushed you.

How much he hates that you stood there, smiling for someone else.

How much he hates that you said… Another time.

Because he realizes something then.

It hurts.

Zou smells like fur and rain.

The giant elephant moves slowly under your feet.

Everything feels unreal.

You walk behind Law when you hear voices shout.

Footsteps run.

“CAPTAIN—?!”

Before you can react, people rush past you.

Law stops and for the first time in a long while, his face breaks.

“Oi…” he says quietly.

His crew surrounds him. Talking. Yelling. Laughing. Crying.

Bepo hugs him too hard “CAPTAIN, YOU’RE ALIVE!”

“I am.” Law answers, annoyed, but his hand rests on Bepo’s head anyway.

You watch from a small distance.

You smile, softly.

Later, after explanations, tears, and food, panic comes again.

Everyone argues. Plans split. Some go to get Sanji back. Some go to Wano.

You stand with the Wano group.

Luffy looks serious for once “We’ll meet again.”

After things calm down, you walk closer to Law.

You tilt your head and smile.

“So,” you say, light again, “reuniting with your crew and now new plans just like that? Very attractive.”

Silence.

Every single Heart Pirate looks at you, then at Law, then back at you.

“…Huh?” Shachi says.

Penguin blinks “Did they just—”

Bepo gasps “CAPTAIN IS VERY COOL, YES—!”

Law groans “Don’t answer that.”

You grin “Too late.”

Shachi laughs “Wow, Captain, you never told us you had fans.”

“I don’t.” Law says.

You lean closer “Then why is my heart beating?”

Penguin laughs loudly “This is amazing.”

Bepo whispers, “Is this flirting?”

“Yes.” you answer kindly.

Law covers his face with his hand “…We’re leaving.”

But you see that he’s annoyed but not angry. Not like before.

On the ship to Wano, you sit with his crew.

Law stands a bit away, arms crossed, pretending not to listen.

You look at Shachi “Be honest. Is he always this sexy as a captain?”

Shachi chokes “SEXY—?”

Penguin laughs so hard he almost falls “Captain, answer them!”

Law snaps, “I will throw you all overboard.”

You hum “Threats. Very charming.”

Bepo nods seriously “Captain is very dependable.”

You smile warmly “See? That’s hot.”

Law exhales slowly “…You’re impossible.”

You stand up and pass by him. Very close.

“But you missed me flirting, didn’t you?” you whisper.

He stiffens and doesn’t look at you “…Idiot.”

You walk away smiling.

Behind you, his crew is laughing.

Law stays still.

Heart beating way too fast.

But not pushing you away. Not anymore.

And as the ship moves toward Wano, he realizes something again… no matter how annoying you are… Life is louder with you in it.

And somehow, he doesn’t want the silence back.

Wooden houses. Dusty roads. People watching from behind doors.

You stand with the group as plans are explained again and again.

“We split up now.” Law says “No attention. No trouble.”

Everyone nods.

Jobs are given.

Then someone points at you.

“And Y/N, you stay with Zoro. Keep him out of danger. And out of sight.”

You blink.

Then you pout.

“Aaaaw,” you whine “I have to babysit when I could have been his spouse.”

You point straight at Law.

Silence.

The Heart Pirates freeze. Penguin’s mouth drops open. Shachi chokes. Bepo gasps.

Law’s eye twitches “…Absolutely not.”

You smile sweetly “See? Denial. Very romantic.”

Zoro sighs loudly, then he turns and starts walking away.

“Too bad,” he says “I’m your crewmate.”

You gasp “Hey— wait!”

Zoro keeps walking. Straight. Confident.

Wrong direction already.

“ZORO,” you shout, then panic “Oh no!”

You turn back quickly.

Law watches you. His face is calm but Inside, he is not calm at all.

Spouse? This idiot…

His crew looks between you two, very interested.

You suddenly run ahead, passing Zoro.

“I’M LEADING,” you yell “DO NOT MOVE WITHOUT ME.”

Zoro blinks “…Huh?”

Before you fully leave, you turn back.

You wave at Law with both hands, like a kid seeing their crush across the playground “BYEEE~!”

The Heart Pirates lose it.

“Captain, wave back!”

“CAPTAIN, YOUR FACE IS RED—!”

“I am not red.” Law snaps.

He does not wave back, but his eyes follow you until you disappear.

“…Be careful…” he mutters.

Too quiet for you or for anyone to hear.

Zoro squints at you as you walk backward in front of him “You always this loud?”

“Yes?” you answer proudly “We’ve been crewmates for years, you should know!”

Far behind, Law exhales slowly.

Tired.

And somehow… already missing you.

The day is calm.

You leave Zoro behind in the small house.

“He’s busy training,” you mutter, holding an empty basket “Sure.”

So you go alone.

The market is crowded. Food smells good. Fish. Rice. Sweet things.

You smile.

Then you see Law.

Your face lights up instantly.

Your heart jumps.

“LA—”

His eyes widen. Sharp. Worried.

You stop.

People around you glance over so you swallow your excitement.

Then you walk toward him calmly and smile at the people watching you.

“Sorry,” you say softly “My bad.”

Law exhales long and tired.

When you reach him, you grin.

“Why look at me like that?” you whisper “Missed me??? ”

He sighs again “You were about to yell my name to the whole country.”

You blink, then laugh quietly.

“Oh,” you say “Sorry about that.”

You tilt your head and smile in embarrassment “I didn’t think when I saw you.”

He clicks his tongue “You usually think?”

You gasp and put a hand on your chest “That hurts.”

Then you grab his arm.

Before he can react, you pull him with you.

“Let’s go eat! You pay!”

“Oi—” he starts, but he follows anyway.

His coat brushes your side.

After a moment, he asks, “What happened to the swordsman?”

You turn your head to look at him.

Your smile is different, warm.

And for one dangerous second, Law’s heart skips.

He looks away quickly “Tch…”

You keep walking, still holding his arm.

Talking about Zoro and then about food.

Law hears it all, but he doesn’t listen to a single word. Too busy pretending his chest doesn’t feel strange. Too busy denying that maybe he was hoping he’d see you today.

The place you choose is small and quiet, hidden between two old wooden houses.

Paper lanterns hang from the ceiling, glowing softly. The wooden tables are worn but clean. Steam rises from the kitchen, carrying the smell of warm broth, rice, and spices that make your stomach ache pleasantly.

You sit down across from Law.

He keeps his hat low, shadowing his eyes, shoulders relaxed but guarded like always. His back is straight, attention sharp even now.

You, on the other hand, look comfortable. Happy, even.

“This place is nice,” you say, looking around “It feels calm.”

(A/N: omg Spotify just played Criminal by queen Britney! BUT MAMA I’M IN LOVE WITH A CRIMINALLLL. Sorry, keep going…)

“You acting like I choose it.” Law replies flatly.

You smile at him “Still. You’re here. That counts.”

He pauses for half a second, then clicks his tongue and looks away.

The food arrives soon after. Warm bowls are placed carefully on the table. The steam fogs the air between you for a moment.

You look at your bowl.

Then at him.

Your smile fades a little when you see him looking at everything but you.

“Are you… okay?” you say quietly.

Law stiffens.

“I’m fine.” he answers immediately.

You gently slide his bowl closer to him.

“Then eat,” you say softly “before it gets cold.”

Law looks at your hand, then at your face.

Something about this feels wrong. Different.

“…You’re acting strange.” he says.

You tilt your head “Strange how?”

“Quiet,” he answers “Careful.”

You chuckle softly “I can be careful.”

He scoffs “That’s new.”

You start eating, slow and relaxed, like there’s no rush.

After a few bites, you look up again.

“You look better now.” you say.

Law frowns “Compared to when.”

“When you walk like you don’t plan on staying alive.”

Law’s fingers tighten around his chopsticks.

“…Don’t say things like that.” he mutters.

You don’t argue, you simply nod “Okay.”

That’s it. No follow-up. No defense.

That surprises him more than if you had laughed.

You smile again, but it’s smaller now. Softer. Almost shy.

“You know,” you continue, resting your chin on your hand, “you’re easier to be around when you’re not pushing everyone away.”

He looks at you sharply “I’m not easy.”

You hum “I didn’t say easy. I said easier.”

He exhales slowly through his nose.

Annoyed, but not angry.

The silence stretches, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s just warm. Filled with the sound of bowls and distant voices outside.

“I like this, a lot.” you say suddenly.

Law glances at you “What.”

“This,” you repeat “Eating together. Just us. No plans. No fighting.”

“…Don’t get used to it.” he replies.

You grin “Too late.”

He keeps eating.

He doesn’t tell you to stop talking.

He doesn’t move away when your fingers brush against his sleeve by accident.

And when the time comes to pay, you stand up first.

“I’ve got it.” you say.

Law frowns “I—”

“It’s fine.” you interrupt gently “Let me. I kinda forced you to come anyway…”

He watches you for a second.

“…Thanks…” he mutters after you return, but you feel like he has something else to say.

You wait but then you just smile.

And as you walk back out into the streets of Wano together, Law realizes something he really doesn’t like.

This version of you, the gentle one, the careful one… is far more dangerous to his heart than all your loud flirting ever was.

You walk side by side through the streets of Wano.

The road is busy.

You talk. A lot. At least for Law’s standards.

You talk about the food. About Zoro getting lost again. About how Wano feels strange but interesting.

Law doesn’t interrupt. He listens. Sometimes he answers with short words. Sometimes with a sound. Most of the time, he just lets you talk.

After a moment, you look at him again.

“Anyway,” you say, casual, “what were you doing when we met earlier?”

He answers without looking at you “Checking if there was any news.”

You nod “Very you.”

He huffs “What’s that supposed to mean.”

“That you never rest.” you reply easily.

He doesn’t answer.

You keep walking.

Then you hear a loud voice.

“COME ON! THIS IS TOP QUALITY—!”

You stop.

Your eyes shine.

You grab Law’s sleeve lightly.

“Oh,” you say “Look.”

A small market stall stands ahead. It’s full of weird objects. Fake medicines. Small weapons. Strange dials. Useless but colorful things.

Behind the stall, panicking and sweating, is Usopp.

He’s wearing a disguise.  A white beard that’s clearly fake.

People around him look unimpressed.

“No refunds!” Usopp yells “This is miracle stuff!”

Someone walks away.

Usopp groans.

You laugh quietly.

Law looks at the stall, then at you.

He watches your face as you smile, clearly enjoying every second of your crewmate’s pain.

“…You’re happy…” he notes.

You nod “Very.”

You turn to him “Saw that?”

He blinks “Saw what.”

You tilt your head “Huh?”

You realize he wasn’t looking at the stall. He was looking at you.

You smile, amused.

“That was a signal for me,” you say seriously “I have work to do.”

Law frowns “What kind of work.”

You step back “Wait here. I’ll be back!”

He looks confused.

You take a few steps away, then turn back and grin “Time to use my flirting power!”

Law stiffens, but you’re already walking away.

He stays where he is. Watching. Carefully.

You walk toward the stall like a stranger. Curious. Interested.

“Oh wow,” you say loudly “This all look amazing.”

“I— uh— YES— VERY AMAZING—!” Usopp says, clearly not recognizing you.

You lean closer to the stall, eyes wide.

“These things look so rare,” you continue “Are you the one who made them?”

Usopp straightens proudly “Y-YES! All handmade!”

People nearby stop.

You turn to a group of men passing by.

“Hey,” you say sweetly, “have you seen this stall? The seller is really talented.”

One man looks curious. Another leans closer.

Usopp starts sweating.

You smile at the men. Compliment them. Laugh at their jokes. Lean in just a bit.

“Oh, you’d look great with this,” you say, handing one item over “This one is perfect for strong hands like yours.”

Coins start dropping on the stall.

Usopp’s eyes go wide.

People gather.

Items disappear.

Law watches from a distance. His jaw tightens. His arms cross.

“Tch…” he mutters.

You laugh with the crowd.

You touch arms. Smile warmly. Speak softly.

More coins. More sales.

Usopp is almost crying, happy now.

Law looks away, then back. Annoyed. Irritated.

Something tight in his chest he doesn’t want to name.

“…Idiot…” he says under his breath.

And yet he doesn’t move or leave. He keeps watching you until the stall is almost empty.

And he hates how much he wants you to come back already.

After a while, the stall is almost empty.

The men around you stand there, holding strange tools, fake medicines, and shiny useless objects. Their wallets are lighter, but their faces are bright. Some of them still try to talk to you, still hoping.

You raise both hands.

“Sorry, sorry,” you say with a gentle laugh “My date is waiting for me.”

The reaction is immediate.

“What?!”

“A date?!”

“Who?!”

You step back, smiling apologetically.

“Really sorry,” you repeat “Next time, okay?”

Their faces fall.

Heartbroken.

Too late to ask for refunds.

You turn around.

Your eyes find Law immediately.

You walk back to him and, without asking, link your arm with his.

He stiffens, and for a second, he looks like he’s about to pull away, but he doesn’t. He lets you stay there. Close.

“Idiot…” he mutters, his voice is low but not angry.

You smile up at him “Mission complete.”

Usopp stares from behind the stall, mouth wide open “…I don’t even want to know.”

You turn back to Law “I should go. If I don’t, Zoro will either get lost or start a fight.”

Law nods “Both.”

You start walking together.

Slow.

Comfortable.

Law hides it well, but inside, he doesn’t want this moment to end.

He doesn’t want you to leave.

He doesn’t want to go back to silence.

As you reach the street corner where you’ll part ways, you stop.

You unlink your arm and turn to him.

Law looks away.

“… I… didn’t hate it…” he mumbles.

You blink.

Lean closer “It what?”

He hesitates, then answers, voice low and rough, “…Today.”

You don’t tease him.

You don’t joke.

You just smile.

Proud.

Soft.

Almost loving.

“I’m happy.” you say simply.

Then you step back, you wave once and walk away.

Law watches you until you disappear into the crowd.

His chest feels tight, but it doesn’t hurt… it feels warm.

Days pass.

Wano stays tense. Quiet. Dangerous.

You train outside the city with Zoro, far from people’s eyes. The ground is dry. The air is heavy. Swords clash again and again.

You push yourself harder than usual.

You don’t notice the cut at first.

You stumble.

Zoro turns immediately “Oi.”

You look down. Blood. A lot of it.

“…Oh,” you say “That’s new.”

Zoro frowns. He moves fast, grabs you before you fall. He looks at the wound, jaw tight “That’s bad.”

“I’m fine.” you answer automatically.

“You’re not.” he says flatly.

He lifts you without asking.

You groan “Hey! I can walk!”

“You’re bleeding too much.”

“I said it’s okay.” you argue “We can’t go to a doctor here. They’ll ask questions. Big cut. Outsiders. Bad idea.”

Zoro thinks for half a second.

Then he turns “I know someone.”

You freeze “…No.”

“Yes.”

“No,” you repeat “Absolutely not.”

Zoro ignores you.

Next thing you know, you’re thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“HEY! PUT ME DOWN—!”

“Stop moving,” he says “You’ll bleed more.”

“This is humiliating!” you groan.

“You’re bleeding on my coat.”

“…Sorry.”

When you arrive, the door slides open.

Law looks up.

Confused.

“What—?”

Zoro drops you carefully to the ground “Cure them.”

Law’s eyes move to you. Then to the cut.

His expression changes instantly.

You’ve never seen him move that fast.

He’s next to you in a second, almost kneeling, hands already reaching out.

“What happened,” he says sharply.

You blink “I… training…”

“Idiot.” he mutters, but his hands are careful. Focused.

You feel your face heat up.

You turn to Zoro “Really? For once you had to get lost, you didn’t?!”

Zoro clicks his tongue “You’re alive because I didn’t.”

Then he turns and walks away… he just leaves you there.

You stare after him “It’s just a cut… Traitor.”

Law clears his throat softly.

He touches your arm to lift it, to look better at the cut.

His fingers are warm.

You look away fast when he tries to meet your eyes.

“W-where are the others?” you ask too quickly.

He lets your arm go and stands up, walking toward the inner room “Some are training. Some are gathering news.”

You nod and follow him, a bit stiff “A-and who’s here?”

He slides the door open and answers calmly, “No one.”

Your face burns.

You rush inside before he can see it.

You sit down quickly, back straight, hands in your lap like a child in trouble.

You’re quiet.

This is bad.

You’re usually the one joking, teasing and flirting.

But since that day, since his “I didn’t hate it”... something feels different.

Law kneels in front of you again. His voice is softer now “This will hurt a little.”

You nod “…Okay.”

He works carefully. Focused. Serious.

But every time his hands touch you, your chest feels tight, and for the first time you really… really don’t know what to say.

Law kneels in front of you, sleeves rolled up.

The room is quiet except for the soft sound of fabric and metal as he prepares what he needs. His movements are precise and controlled, like always.

“Stay still.” he says.

“I am.” you answer too fast.

He gently lifts the fabric near the cut.

The moment his fingers touch your skin you feel like… fire. That’s the only word that fits.

You inhale sharply.

Law pauses “Does it hurt that much?”

“N-no,” you answer quickly “It’s fine. Just… cold.”

He narrows his eyes but continues.

His touch is careful, professional, but every movement feels too much.

He presses a bit to examine the wound.

You flinch.

“Hey,” he says, firmly “Stop moving.”

“I’m trying…” you mumble.

He looks up at you now. Your shoulders are tense. Your jaw clenched. Your eyes refusing to meet his.

“…You’re acting strange.” he says.

“I’m not.” you lie badly.

He doesn’t answer, but his hands slow down, more cautious now.

Every time he touches you, your breath stutters. You hate it. Hate that you can’t control it. Hate that he can probably feel it.

“Law,” you blurt out suddenly, “maybe you should stop.”

He freezes “What?”

“I mean… I’m fine. Really… Ugh, I wish Chopper was here…”

The words fall heavy. You realize it the second you say them.

You look at his face.

“Oh.” he says quietly.

He looks away and goes back to work immediately, movements faster now.

You panic.

“No— I didn’t mean it like that,” you rush “I just— I’m not used to this, okay? You touching me like this— I mean— medically!”

Great. Worse.

Law doesn’t stop.

His jaw tightens.

“Do you hate me now?” he asks suddenly.

The question hits you like a slap.

“What? No—! Of course not!”

“Then what?” he snaps softly “Because you’re pulling away like I’m doing something wrong.”

“I’m not— you’re not— I just—” You groan and press your face into your hands “I’m bad with words right now.”

“That’s new.” he mutters.

You look up at him, desperate.

“I don’t hate you,” you say firmly “I swear.”

“Then why say that.” he asks, quieter now.

You open your mouth and close it. Because you can’t say the truth.

You can’t say because your touch makes my chest hurt.

You can’t say because I think I like you way too much and it scares me.

So you say stupid things instead.

“I just don’t like being weak.”

Bad.

“And I don’t like bothering people.”

Worse.

“And you’re busy and important and I didn’t want to—”

He exhales sharply “Stop.”

You stop.

Silence stretches between you.

Finally, he finishes bandaging the cut. His hands linger for half a second… then pull away.

“There,” he says “You’ll live.”

You nod “…Thanks.”

The tension slowly eases as minutes pass.

Your breathing evens out.

Law stands and stretches slightly.

“It’s late,” he says “Too late to go back to your hideout.”

You blink “What?”

“You can eat something and sleep here.”

Your brain short-circuits “S-sleep— here?!”

He notices immediately.

“…The others should be back after dinner,” he adds quickly “You won’t be alone.”

“Oh,” you say, relieved. Then quieter, “Okay.”

He lights a small fire in the corner. The flames crackle softly, filling the room with warm orange light.

You sit together on the floor, bowls of ramen in your hands.

You eat slowly.

You glance at him.

The firelight paints his face in gold, orange and shadow. His eyes look softer like this. Warmer.

Your heart does something stupid.

You keep looking.

And looking.

And looking.

“…What?” he asks.

You don’t answer.

You don’t even look away.

Your cheeks burn, but you can’t stop.

“…You’re staring.” he says.

You swallow.

“Yeah.” you admit quietly.

The fire crackles softly between you.

You keep staring.

You know you are.

You tell yourself to stop.

You don’t. You can’t.

Slowly, he lifts his gaze and looks back at you.

Your heart jumps straight into your throat.

So you do the only thing you know how to do when emotions get too big.

You smirk and then lean forward a little.

“Well,” you say lightly, “has anyone ever told you that you look really good in firelight? Like… dangerously handsome?”

Your voice sounds normal but inside, you’re a mess.

Law watches you closely. Not annoyed or embarrassed. Just… observant.

You add another smirk and a teasing tilt of your head “I mean, wow. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to seduce me.”

“Drop it.”

The words are calm and they stop you instantly.

You blink “…What?”

“Drop the act,” he repeats “I can see you’re not meaning it.”

Your chest tightens.

“That’s—” You sit back up immediately “That’s not true.”

He looks away, jaw tense “You don’t have to force yourself. If you’re uncomfortable, just— stop.”

Panic floods you.

“No!” you say too fast “No, that’s not it at all.”

He looks back at you, confused now.

“I—” You swallow. Your hands shake a little “I actually mean it. I mean it more than usual. Even. I mean… not that I’d think you’re trying to seduce me… the— the rest!”

Law freezes.

You can see it in his eyes that he doesn’t know what to do with that.

You groan and lean back, dragging your hands down your face, hiding behind them like you can erase the moment.

“Damn,” you mumble “I think… nothing. Just— something is wrong with me, okay?”

You drop your hands and stare at the floor “I don’t know how to act anymore.”

Silence.

The fire pops softly.

Then you hear movement.

Law sits closer without touching, but close enough that you feel his warmth.

“There’s nothing wrong with you.” he says quietly.

You laugh weakly “You’re supposed to say that as a doctor.”

“I’m serious.”

You glance up at him.

His expression isn’t guarded now.

“I thought you were just… like that,” he continues “Flirting with everyone. Joking. Never serious.”

Your throat tightens “And now?”

“And now,” he admits, “it feels different.”

You nod slowly “…Yeah.”

He exhales “For a while, I thought you were making fun of me. Or that you didn’t care. Or that you were just bored.”

You shake your head.

His voice drops “Then I thought you hated me.”

Your eyes widen “What? No— Law—”

He clenches his fists “You pulled away. You even said you wished Chopper was here.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you say quickly “I swear. I just— when you touch me, my brain stops working.”

That makes him pause “…What?”

You huff out a breath, defeated “Congratulations. You broke me.”

You finally look at him properly “I flirt because it’s easy. Because it’s safe. Because if people laugh, they don’t see how much I care.”

Your voice shakes now “But with you… it’s not easy anymore.”

Law stares at you.

You continue, quieter “I like you. Too much. And I don’t know how to joke about that.”

The confession sits between you, raw and terrifying.

Law doesn’t speak for a long moment.

Then he rubs a hand over his face.

“…Damn it.” he mutters.

You tense “That’s a bad ‘damn it’, isn’t it.”

“No,” he says quickly “It’s just… I didn’t want this.”

Your heart drops.

“I didn’t want to like you,” he continues “because I knew it would be trouble. Because I knew I’d lose focus.”

He looks at you again “And because I knew if you ever stopped smiling at me, it would hurt.”

You blink “…You like me too?”

He scoffs softly “Idiot. I’ve liked you for a while.”

Your breath catches “Since when?”

He hesitates “…Since you stopped joking when it mattered.”

Your chest feels too full.

You laugh quietly, almost crying “That’s so unfair.”

He gives you a small, tired smile “You’re unfair.”

The fire burns low.

The world outside feels very far away.

Neither of you moves closer.

Neither of you pulls away.

The room feels warmer by every second that passes.

Then you finally move, slowly. You sit closer to the fire… and closer to Law.

Neither of you speaks.

Then your hand shifts on the floor and your fingers brush his.

Just a touch. You freeze. He freezes too.

For a second, neither of you moves.

Then, carefully, his hand turns.

His fingers slide between yours and he holds your hand.

Your breath catches.

You look at him and he looks at you.

The firelight dances in his eyes.

You lean in without thinking, he meets you halfway.

The kiss is soft and slow. Careful, like you’re both scared to break it.

His hand tightens around yours just a little.

Your heart feels like it might explode.

Then… the door slides open hard “CAPTAIN! WE’RE BACK!”

Loud voices fill the room.

The Heart Pirates.

You jump like you were burned. You pull away instantly, scooting far from Law.

Law stiffens too, shoulders tense, face unreadable again.

Penguin stops mid-step.

Shachi blinks.

Bepo freezes with one foot still in the air.

“…Uhm,” Shachi says slowly, looking between you and Law, “are we interrupting something?”

You panic.

“No!” you say too fast, waving your hands “No no no—!”

You point at your bandaged cut “I just… needed stitches! That’s all! Zoro is just too stupid and… yeah!”

You laugh awkwardly. Too loud. Too fake.

Law does not look at anyone.

“…Sit down,” he says flatly “and report.”

The Heart Pirates exchange looks but they sit. They talk about news, about patrols, about rumors in Wano.

You nod sometimes but you don’t really listen, you just watch Law. The way he sits straight. The way his voice changes when he gives orders. The way everyone listens to him.

You smile without noticing.

Later, when it’s time to sleep, everyone settles down.

You grab a spot near Bepo.

He smiles at you “Good night!”

“Good night!” you whisper back.

Before you lie down, you look at Law one last time. He’s sitting a little apart, hat low, quiet.

You smile at him full of love and happiness. You lift your hand and wave.

“Good night!” you mouth.

He looks up and for a second, his eyes soften.

Then he nods once.

The fire fades, and you fall asleep with a warm heart.

Morning comes too fast. The light creeps in through the cracks of the wooden house, soft and pale. People start moving and getting ready.

You stretch slowly, careful of your bandaged side.

You sit up with a small sigh.

“Not to be repetitive but… I should go back,” you say to the room “before Zoro makes a mess. Or gets lost. Or starts a war.”

Bepo nods seriously “That sounds possible.”

You laugh quietly.

You look for Law.

He’s there, talking with his crew, already in captain mode.

There’s no moment. No opening. Too many eyes. Too many people.

So you do the only thing you can.

You walk toward the door, then turn back.

You wave at everyone and just for a second at him.

Law looks up.

He doesn’t wave back but his eyes stay on you until you leave.

That’s enough.

After that day, everything explodes. Luffy comes back and of course chaos follows.

You barely have time to breathe and from across the mess, you see Law.

You end up near him for exactly five seconds.

He looks at the destruction around you and then at you.

“…Weren’t you supposed to prevent that?” he asks flatly.

You pout immediately.

“Have you ever tried stopping these two?” you snap back, pointing wildly toward Luffy and Zoro.

Law sighs “…Fair.”

That’s all you get before someone shouts orders. Before explosions force you apart. Before the war truly starts.

You don’t meet alone again. Not once.

Every time you see him, it’s from far away, across battlefields, through smoke and fire.

But every time your eyes meet you know no words are needed.

And even when the world pulls you in different directions that quiet connection stays.

EPILOGUE

The war ends and Wano finally breathes again.

And when night falls, the city explodes with light, music, food, and laughter.

Lanterns float into the sky. Tables overflow with drinks. People sing like they’re trying to make up for every quiet night they lost.

You sit on the ground with Zoro, drinkin. He drinks like it’s water.

You do not.

“This stuff is strong!” you say, already smiling too much.

Zoro snorts “You’re just weak.”

You laugh and drink again anyway.

Across the celebration, voices rise.

Then Usopp points at you dramatically.

“Oooooh, Y/N is drinking!” he says loudly “You all know what that means!”

You blink “Huh?”

Nami laughs “OOOOH! BETS ARE ON! WHO WILL BE Y/N’S FLIRTING VICTIM OF THE DAY?”

The crowd erupts.

Names start flying.

“I bet one Eustass Kid!”

“WHAT— WHY ME?!” Kid yells.

“Nah, it’s gonna be Penguin!”

“He wouldn’t survive that!”

“My bet is on Killer!”

“Impossible!”

“It’s gonna be a woman today!”

“Obviously Kikunojo!”

You laugh so hard you almost spill your drink.

You don’t notice the burning stare from across the crowd.

Then a calm voice cuts through the noise “I bet on Captain.”

You turn slowly “…Huh?”

Bepo stands there, hands clasped, very serious.

Then all eyes turn to Law, then to you.

You smirk.

“Oh?” you say, standing up.

You almost fall but you catch yourself.

Cheers explode.

You start walking straight toward Law. You don’t look away from him once.

You stumble. Regain balance. Keep going.

Law exhales slowly “…Don’t.”

You flop down next to him, way too close.

The crowd quiets to watch, but you don’t care.

You wrap both arms around his arm and press against him.

“I missed you so muuuuuuuch!!” you whine happily.

Law turns bright red instantly “Please shut up.”

You ignore him.

You squeeze his arm tighter “Please kiss me again…”

The city erupts.

“AGAIN???????”

“WHEN DID THAT HAPPEN?!”

“EXCUSE ME?!”

You look around, confused “Why is everyone yelling?”

Law pulls his hat down hard, hiding his face completely “…Damn it.”

“Oh,” you say suddenly, nodding seriously “Ah right. No PDA.”

You turn back to him, voice suddenly soft “Soooooooooorryyyyyyyyy…”

He sighs but in the shadow of his hat you see a small smile.

While everyone panics, shouts, and demands explanations, Law’s hand moves and he slips his fingers into yours to hold your hand.

Your smile softens instantly and you squeeze his hand back.

he found you sprawled out horizontally over the covers, one of his too-big-for-you shirts pulled over your sleeping body, head falling off of one of the pillows, while you hugged the other tight against your chest. 

now, one thing zoro loved about dating you was seeing just how much you influenced each other. 

when you’d both first joined luffy’s crew, you’d snap and whine at him for napping at the most random intervals of time, kicking him awake or simply complaining very loudly with nami about how he used his free time, driving the swordsman up the walls. 

yet after all that time spent grumbling about his sleeping habits before you’d gotten together (and maybe a bit more after that), here you were. messily spread out on your shared bed with drool running down your chin, taking one of those naps you once objected so much against. 

he held in a laugh, his tiff with the cook fizzling away in his mind as he took in your sleeping figure, the light from the afternoon sun shining into the room and hitting you in an almost angelic way, which for zoro, you were nothing but. 

he carefully propped up his swords against the wall, shaking his shoes off before silently moving towards what you’d both silently agreed on was his side of the bed, though thanks to the way you had moved around in your bed, were now occupied by your bare legs. 

zoro had once heard about how you moved around a lot during your sleep, having heard nami’s complaints about your sleepy kicks or slaps back when you used to share a bed with her, always laughing loudly at the way you would shy away from her in embarrassment, unaware of how squirmy you were asleep. 

surprisingly enough, though, the moment you started to sleep alongside zoro, you stopped moving. maybe it was because of his incredible pain tolerance (since one slap from you would hardly register as painful) that your movements didn’t stir him awake, or maybe it was because of the unyielding grip he had on you the moment his arms found your wriggly body. 

he found it hilarious that it was the latter. 

zoro carefully took both of your ankles in one hand, pushing your legs and subsequently moving your body so you were lying in a more “appropriate” manner, though considering the many times he’d ended up horizontal on a bed, he shouldn't really be judging. 

once he’d made enough space for himself, he let go, kneeling on the mattress before pulling his shirt and haramaki off, polloping himself down on the bed as soon as he’d flung them across the room (something he knew he’d get reprimanded for later).

a grunt left him as he tried to get comfortable, arms immediately spread out instinctively to find your body, wrapping them around your waist and dragging you across the already messy covers into his chest. 

you let out a whine as the rough movements forced you to let go of the pillow you’d been cuddling, though seemed to immediately calm down once you subconsciously realised whose arms you were now in. 

“messy girl,” zoro murmured as he looked around the state your bed’s covers were in after what he assumed had been less than an hour (he clearly recalled you screaming at luffy for something or other a bit before he’d wandered into the kitchen), craning his head so he could press a sloppy kiss against your cheek. “mean, too. napping without me…”

he adjusted the arm underneath you so it was right against your neck, not wanting for you to grow uncomfortable with it digging into your waist, watching as you immediately rested your head against his warm bicep, letting out a soft noise of content. 

his other arm, though, had completely other plans. he moved it from its place around your waist, dragging his hand underneath the oversized shirt of his you’d stolen, placing his warm palm right above the elastic band of your panties, chuckling as your body shivered in response. 

one thing you'd quickly learned about zoro the moment you'd started dating was that he loved your tits. 

he'd once “joked” about throwing all of your bras overboard one day in which you'd walked out of your room without one, eyes trained to your chest each time you walked by, not shying away from showing his attraction to you in that state, though you (and everyone else who had heard his proclamation) knew he was fully capable of doing it. 

zoro's hands were on you every chance you got, taking your tits into his hands and squeezing like they were stress balls, thumb and index slowly working on your pebbling nipples, chin perched on your shoulder and just watching, never making a sound except for the sighs or grunts that would leave him in response to your own whimpering noises. 

sometimes it wasn't even sexual. sometimes he just found comfort in groping you, playing with the flesh as you say in his lap working on something or as a stress reliever after a particularly gruelling battle. 

this, he thought as slid one of his legs between yours, was not one of those times. 

zoro leaned down to press kisses to the exposed skin of your shoulder, leading a trail right up to the spot behind your ear, smirking as you shivered in response to the soft blow of air from his breathing. 

“...’ro.” you mumbled sleepily, hand moving to cover the one that had started playing with your tummy, stirring awake due to his movements, completely different to how zoro could sleep through wars if he wished to. 

“mornin’,” he joked breathlessly into your ear, deciding to continue teasing as he nibbled at your ear lobe, making you squeak and try to move away. “hey, hey, stop moving.” 

“stop bitin’!” you slurred out tiredly, swatting at his face with a huff, knowing it was probably pulled into an annoyingly smug look. 

“can't… ‘specially not when you look this cute in my shirt, all sleepy…” 

“you get turned on by the weirdest things…” you groaned, already feeling his hand start to move up your abdomen, going directly towards his two favourite things. 

his teeth immediately sunk into your neck in response to your little insult, taking advantage of your body's natural reaction to the pain to finally grab at your tits, tugging at your nipple almost immediately, his other arm moving from the position he'd previously put it in to grab at your other tit, not wanting to leave out any of your two girls.

“you’re so pervy, zo… y’re no better than-” your words were cut off as you moaned out in surprise at the immediate attack on your slowly pebbling nipples, the action sending shockwaves through your body, arms lying stiff at your side as you tried to decide what do with your hands, teasing words fizzling away in your mind, too busy enjoying the way your boyfriend was massaging your chest. 

“don't.” zoro growled into your ear with a pinch to your nipples, a high pitched whine leaving your mouth at the little retaliation, knowing full well what was about to leave your mouth, not wanting to think about the perv-cook when he was in the middle of playing with his girl's tits. 

“m-meanie…” you gasped, back arching at the slight pain that accompanied the pleasure that rushed through your body at his actions, feeling the leg that he'd slipped between your own start to move, the coarse material of his trousers along with the pressure of his thigh pressing tight against your panty-clad core. 

“yeah? ‘m just a big meanie?” zoro grunted, licking at the spot he'd previously sunk his teeth in, slowly but surely moving his thigh back and forth, loving the way your tiny frame jumped and shivered at every stimulation he gave. 

“y-yeah-” breathlessly, you started to move down to meet the movements of his stiff thigh, muscles rippling between your legs despite the little effort it took for him to move like this in comparison to you, who was already growing tired from the constant movements without the help like you usually had. 

“this is me being nice,” he licked a stripe up your neck to the spot behind your ear, where he pressed a very uncharacteristically sweet kiss to, your mind flowing with confusion as to how he could focus on kissing, groping and grinding into you all at once. 

well, considering you were dealing with a man who fought with three swords, you shouldn't be surprised at his dexterity. 

each movement of his thigh against where you needed him most sent waves of pleasure through your tired body, and you could anxiously tell that you were leaving a damp spot on his trousers by the way you were dripping, your boyfriend's ministrations enough to get your pussy soaked. 

it also didn't help that each time he pulled his leg forward, his knee would bump against your already throbbing clit, sending shockwaves up your spine and forcing whines out of your wet lips, saliva pooling in your mouth and threatening to slide down your chin like it previously had been doing during your nap. 

“y’really don't want me to be mean,” he taunted, leaving more kisses across the expanse of skin his too-big shirt exposed for him to touch, fingers letting go of your already abused nipples, a sigh of relief leaving your parted lips at that, focusing instead on groping at the rest.

at your lack of response, zoro grinned, basking in the sounds you were making before he slid his leg out of yours, not missing the way they immediately tried to press down onto it, a horrified sound leaving you at the sudden lack of pleasure. 

“z-zo!” you exclaimed, trying to turn around to look at him, but by the way he had you pressed tightly against, you found that movement to be impossible. “wh-what was that for?” 

your whines were music to his ears, ignoring the way you were squirming in his arms, though his hands continued to play with your tits. “what was what for?” 

he acted like he hadn't just put a pin in your pleasure, instead moving to grind his front against your backside, evidence of his growing pleasure pressing into your ass. 

“mean enough for you now?” 

you whined at his taunt, a gasp escaping you as one of his hands let go of your tits, confusion filling you as to what that lonely hand would be getting up to. 

“‘m sorry!” you whined, finding it slightly ridiculous that you were apologising for simply implying that your boyfriend was being mean, though you would've done anything to get that beautiful pleasure back. “please- please…” 

“please what?” you could hear the smirk in his voice, though by the way his hand was already trailing down your stomach towards your soaked cunt, you knew you wouldn't have to do any more begging except to please him. 

“touch- touch me, pleaseee…” you begged, even though his index and middle finger were already teasing the spot right above your clit, tracing the soft texture of your panties, trying to discern which pair you'd worn that day. 

“there's my girl.” he grinned, pride filling him up as he finally got that initial brattiness out of you, pressing a sloppy kiss to your cheek as his fingers went up to the elastic band of your underwear, reaching his hand under it and running over your pubic hair, fingers sliding right between your soppy folds. 

your breath hitched in your throat as he immediately found your tiny bundle of nerves, already an expert on how your body worked and what you needed from him, rubbing slow circles into it like he knew you liked, a sharp contrast to the way he'd previously been grinding his leg against it. 

your legs twitched with every movement, your pleasure picking up from where he'd left off, tummy growing warm as he toyed with you, and though you could feel yourself slowly making your way up to your orgasm, you knew zoro wouldn't let you cum just like that. 

“shit, she's a messy girl, jus’ listen to her…” he murmured, referring to the sounds your cunt was making with every move of his finger, adding a second one in hopes that the cacophony of sounds would increase. 

“don't teaseee…” you drawled out, lolling your head back against his shoulder as he peppered kisses all over you, sliding his fingers around the erogenous zones around your clit, sparking pleasure all over you. 

“‘m not teasing.” he grunted, his hips jerking slightly to make contact with your ass, rubbing his erection against you in tandem with his own fingers, though still completely zeroed in on your pleasure. “I jus’ know what she wants.” 

you puffed out your cheeks, though whatever you were about to snap back died in your throat as he finally slid his fingers down to your soaked entrance, teasingly running his fingers around the ring of muscles. 

“fuck, y’feel tight.” zoro groaned, the heel of his palm pressing right into your clit, stimulating your little nub with each twitch of his fingers. 

“gonna fuck me open?” you jeered, out of breath at the continuous amount of pleasure being forced onto your sleepy body, another wave of slick leaving your cunt at the thought of getting fucked. 

“fuck, I wish…” zoro rasped, cock twitching against your back at the shared idea, shaking his head slightly, too comfortable in this position to move around. “not today, though. ‘m just enjoying playing with your little cunt for now.”

he slipped his middle finger into your hole before you could even reply, though he knew you had no qualms with his reply, always admiring his hands and exclaiming how much you loved having them on your pussy. 

his finger immediately found your g-spot, arching it to rub against the spongy spot that made your toes curl, palm still grinding against your clit deliciously. 

“s-so good!” you cried out, one of your hands grabbing at the arm he'd shoved down your panties, nails digging into his tanned skin in pleasure, though no pain registered, too busy playing with your cunt to focus on it. 

“yeah? ‘course it is, it's me.” he said, ego inflating at his own words as you twitched in his arms, slipping another finger into your tight heat to join the attack on your g-spot, his other hand still playing with your tit, warm pleasure building up in your tummy as he worked you out. “‘know you better than anyone.” 

fuck, it almost pissed you off how right he was. 

“no one like me, right?” 

“no one!” you cried out on instinct, moving your hips in tandem with his hand, amplifying the rising pleasure and grinding back on his stiff cock at the same time. “only one for me, zo!”

“atta fucking girl.” he spat out, breathless from the possessive talk and the own pleasure that was rushing through his body, pre leaking from his tip and forming a wet patch against his trousers. “y’close?” 

“mhm!” you shook your head up and down aggressively, moans and whines tumbling out of your mouth as you neared your peak, hand pulling at zoro's arm to alert him of it and ask that- 

“I got you, don't worry.” he sighed, knowing what you wanted before you even said it out loud, pulling his fingers out of you with a loud squelch, pressing his wet fingers against your clit like you wanted and rubbing quick circles onto it, your legs shaking as your hips tried to keep up with the sudden switch in stimulation, though thankful for the help, as it was what you needed to get where you wanted to the most. 

“fu-fuck, zoro! m’so close!” 

zoro knew what that meant. already too familiar with your body and your needs, he knew that that meant to continue whatever he was doing. not to speed up, not to slow down, not to switch techniques, just keep doing what was making his girl scream. 

“it's okay, I got you,” he almost purred, grip tightening on your tit as his hips jutted out to search for stimulation on his leaking cock, although he knew he'd probably be able to cum just by witnessing your orgasm alone. 

“oh god, oh god-” zoro grunted at your words, knowing that he'd usually let out a teasing ‘god’s not fucking you this good, baby’, at your whiny words, smirking as you immediately changed your tune. “zoro! oh, zoro, zoro!

your mouth flew open in a silent scream as you finally reached your peak, riding out your orgasm with help of zoro's fingers, that were quickly covered in slick by the way you'd came, soaking both his hand and your panties, probably even leaking onto the already messy covers. 

you whined as the hand that had been groping you moved to grab at your neck, moving your head painfully to a side so zoro could slot his lips against yours, drinking up your moans and whimpers as you swapped spit, eyes wide open and taking in the way you were falling apart on his fingers. 

you quickly found yourself twitching in overestimation once your orgasm washed away, whining into zoro's mouth, a telltale sign to slowly stop his ministrations. 

“hey, hey…” he shushed you as he leaned back, letting you lie down properly as he propped himself up on the bed, watching you shiver in the aftershocks of your orgasm as he pulled his fingers back from your perky clit, leaning back down quickly to press a kiss between your furrowed brows. “y’okay?” 

you hummed in response, cracking your eyes open to take a look at your grinning boyfriend, his face flushed and sweaty as his chest rose and fell with each quick breath, almost like he'd- 

“zo, just by-?”

“just by seeing you, yeah.” he exhaled, eyes flicking down to his bulge, cock softening against his trousers as he himself came down from his high, bringing the fingers he'd used on you up to his mouth and licking them clean, eyes darting around the room as if he wasn't in the middle of licking your juices off his fingers. 

“don't goooooo…” you whined, knowing he was probably looking for the closest thing he could use to clean you up, much rather preferring cuddles with your boyfriend to a dry cunt. 

you outstretched your arms out to him and made grabby hands, watching as he grinned in response to your need actions, landing on top of you with a grunt and resting his head right on the tits he'd previously been attacking. 

“brute!” you gasped, hands finding solace in his hair and running through his green strands, pouting down at your boyfriend. 

You stand still for a second, your fingers tightening around the handle of your bag.

“Zoro…”

You find out fast about what happened. A group of low-level pirates, weak ones, the kind Zoro would never lose to.

Which means… he didn’t lose.

“He was captured…” a scared man tells you, shaking as you hold his collar “They used tricks… poison maybe… we don’t know…”

Your eyes go cold “Where.”

Now you stand in front of a large building near the docks.

It looks like a party hall with bright lights and even music, with men laughing around.

You cross your arms and breathe slowly.

Think.

Zoro is inside.

The crew isn't here. They're busy somewhere else, fighting something big, something important.

So this… this is on you.

You look down at your clothes… they're simple and not very noticeable, which is good.

You smile at yourself.

“Alright…” you whisper to yourself “Let’s play a little game.”

Inside, everything is loud.

There are men everywhere.

Your eyes scan the room quickly, sharp and careful.

No Zoro.

But guards… many guards.

Too many for a direct fight.

You click your tongue softly “Then we do it the other way.”

You move toward the back, where the workers are, the ones that aren't paying too much attention.

You walk slower now.

Your body relaxes, your expression changes.

You become… sweet.

A man almost bumps into you, holding a tray of drinks.

“Oh! I'm sorry!” you say quickly, your voice light and a little shy.

He blinks at you, then looks again and again.

“It is okay… I mean— no problem!” he says, suddenly very nervous.

You tilt your head just a little.

“I'm a bit lost…” you continue, softer now “I'm looking for someone. A man with green hair. Did you maybe see him?”

The man frowns, thinking “Green hair… ah… wait… yeah. I think I saw someone like that. But…”

“But?” you ask, stepping just a little closer.

His ears turn red.

“He was… not free.” the man says quietly “They took him downstairs. Storage area, maybe? Guards are there. Strong ones.”

You nod slowly, like this is just normal information “I see…”

You give him a small smile and caress his chest as you walk past him “Thank you. You are very kind.”

He almost drops the tray.

You walk away calmly, but inside your heart is beating faster.

Now you just need a way in without fighting all of them.

You stop near another group of caterers.

This time, you don't wait. You step in like you belong there.

“Excuse me,” you say, your voice gentle but clear “I was told to help downstairs. They need more hands.”

One of them looks at you, confused “Who told you?”

You don't even hesitate.

“The tall man with the scar on his face,” you answer smoothly “He looked very angry.”

They all freeze a little “…Ah. Him.”

You nod like you understand everything.

“He said if we are slow, we will regret it.” you add, lowering your voice.

That works.

Fear moves faster than logic.

“Then go, go!” one of them says quickly “Take this.”

He pushes a tray into your hands. You look down and see that there are drinks.

You walk toward the guarded stairs.

Two men stand there, they're big and armed.

They look at you but you don’t stop.

“Delivery.” you say simply.

The guard narrows his eyes the moment you step closer “We didn’t ask for anything.”

His voice is sharp and suspicious.

You stop right in front of them, carefully.

You let your shoulders relax, like you aren’t orried at all.

“I know…” you say, almost tired “But do you really want to explain to your boss why his men are standing here thirsty and unhappy?”

The second guard frowns “We are not—”

You take one small step closer.

Your fingers lightly brush his arm.

“You look tired,” you say gently “Both of you. Long night, right?”

They hesitate for a moment.

You smile at them. Behind them you see Zoro sitting inside the cell with chains and no swords. Watching.

His eye meets yours, questioning.

You don't react and he understands, but you see it in the way his jaw tightens even though he stays silent.

“Hey!” one of the guards says, trying to focus again “Answer properly. Who sent you?”

You tilt your head, then, slowly, you put the tray down on an old piece of wooden furniture beside you.

“I didn’t want to say it like this…” you murmur while your hand slides over his shoulder, light and slow.

He freezes.

“I just thought…” you continue, voice lower now, softer, “maybe you both could use something better than drinks.”

The second guard lets out a short, nervous laugh, while watching you with sudden interest.

“Better?” he repeats.

You step closer again. Now you are right between the two.

Your fingers trail over one arm… then the other.

“You are strong…” you say, looking at the bigger one “And you…” you turn to the other, smiling gently, “you have very nice eyes.”

They aren't thinking clearly anymore, you can see it.

You lean in and suddenly you wrap your arms around the bigger one.

Your cheek is almost touching his chest.

He stiffens in shock, then relaxes. Hands unsure where to go.

Behind his back your face changes completely. Your eyes move fast to look straight at Zoro, and you gesture to him to stay quiet.

Zoro stands up slowly, his expression is dark, confused and definitely angry, but he doesn’t speak.

“You know…” you say softly, still holding the guard, your fingers already working at his belt, unseen “This place is too noisy.”

The second guard steps closer “What do you mean?”

You glance at him, biting your lip just slightly.

“Maybe we should go somewhere private,” you whisper “All together.”

“…All together?” he repeats.

You nod slowly.

“Why not?” you say “It could be fun.”

That is all it takes.

“Yeah… yeah, there is a room.” one of them says quickly.

“Yeah, over there. ” the other adds pointing at a door.

You smile “Lead the way.”

As they turn your fingers close around something cold and metal… keys.

The two men move toward the room, excited, careless.

You follow just a step then you stop.

“Wait” you say softly.

They turn “What?”

You lift your hand slightly, smiling “I… have to get prepared, you know? Lady's things… no peeking or you'll ruin the surprise!”

You close the door behind them as you see them smirking at you anticipating.

Once the door is closed you walk straight to the cell.

Zoro is already at the bars watching you and burning…

You try one key… one of way too many keys.

Wrong!

Second one.

Click.

The sound is too loud.

“What was that?!”

You grin, breathless. 

The cell opens and Zoro steps out, walking way too close to you.

You jump forward and hug him tightly. Relief hits you all at once.

His hand catches you immediately so you don't fall, but he doesn’t hug you back.

You look up and freeze a little. His face is dark, his jaw tight and his eye sharp. He's obviously really mad.

“…Flirting?” he says low.

Behind you, you hear the two men getting suspicious and moving to the door.

Zoro’s grip on you tightens slightly “…We are talking about that later.”

You pull back just enough to look at him better, your lips forming a small pout immediately.

You complain softly “No ‘thank you’? No ‘you saved me’?”

Behind you…

“HEY! YOU LITTLE—”

“LIAR!”

The men are rushing toward you now, faces red, shouting all kinds of names to you.

You flinch just a little, then quickly hide your face against Zoro again, tightening your grip on him.

“They are so mean…” you mumble, voice small, almost hurt “I was nice to them…”

Zoro’s eyebrow twitches.

You cling to him more.

“And you are also scolding me,” you add, quieter now, almost sulking “after I did everything alone…”

The footsteps get closer and louder. Weapons drawn.

“I already did all the work…” you continue, your voice dropping into something tired, real this time “I am tired now…”

There is a short silence.

Then Zoro exhales and when you look up, he is smiling, but not soft and sweet, it’s actually that dangerous, sharp smile of his.

The one that means someone is about to regret something.

“…Yeah.” he mutters.

His hand shifts, steady on you. Then he gently moves you back, placing you safely behind him.

“Got it.” he says, rolling his shoulders slightly “It’s my turn now.”

You nod automatically, even if he can’t see you.

The guards charge.

“You think you can trick us and walk away?!”

“After what you did—!”

Zoro steps forward.

“You shouldn’t blame her.” he says, voice low.

They hesitate for half a second but then Zoro moves fast. The first man doesn’t even finish his step before he is on the ground. The second tries to swing but he gets blocked easily.

Zoro’s expression darkens more.

“Honestly,” he adds, almost annoyed now, “if you fall for something like that…”

Another hit and another body drops.

“…that is your problem.”

You watch from behind, arms still wrapped around yourself.

“…Yeah,” you murmur softly, a small smile forming despite everything “Totally your fault…”

One of the men tries to run but Zoro grabs him before he can and he lifts him slightly.

“You tied me up,” he says, voice colder now “and took my swords.”

The man shakes “I— we—”

Zoro drops him hard “…Your first bad decision.”

Silence falls again broken only by the quiet groans on the floor.

Zoro stands still for a second, then turns back to you.

His expression is calmer now but his eye is still sharp, still watching you closely.

“…You.” he says.

You freeze a little.

“…We are still talking about that.”

You pout again immediately.

“I saved you.” you answer.

He crosses his arms “You flirted.”

You lift your chin slightly “It worked.”

A pause.

“…Tch.”

But you see that tiny shift, that almost-smile again.

“…Come here. Let’s leave now.” he mutters.

The walk back is quiet.

You walk a few steps behind him, your hands lightly holding your own arms now. The night air feels cooler now, but the tension between you two… is worse.

Zoro doesn’t look back.

You can't stop but notice the small things, though, like the way his shoulders stay stiff.

You puff your cheeks a little.

“…He is really mad…” you whisper to yourself.

When the Thousand Sunny comes into view, the lights are still on.

And the moment you both step on deck the crew run to you.

“FINALLY!”

“Where were you two?!”

“We were supposed to leave an hour ago!”

Their voices overlap with questions coming from everywhere.

You blink, a little overwhelmed.

“We just—”

“EW!”

You stop and turn your head to Usopp as he's pointing at you both with a face twisted in pure drama.

“You are both covered in sweat…” he says, narrowing his eyes “Were you two…??”

You choke “W-What?! No—!”

“Ah~ young love!” Brook adds calmly, hands behind his back “YOHOHOHO!”

Your face burns immediately and before you can even answer, Zoro walks past them and says “…Mind your business.”

His voice is flat and cold as if he's completely uninterested, but you notice that his ears are really red.

You stand there for a second then you smile awkwardly at the crew, waving your hands quickly.

“Not at all! Enemies!” you say fast while throwing a few small punches in the air “Fight! Big fight! Very dangerous!”

They all stare at you in silence.

“…Right…” Nami says slowly.

You don't wait. You turn and hurry after Zoro.

Once you're away from the others you call him softly “…Hey….”

No answer.

You step closer “…Are you mad at me?”

He keeps walking for a few seconds then he stops but he doesn’t turn.

“…Zoro…”

You shift a little, unsure now.

“I had to do that…” you start, voice softer “There were too many of them. I couldn't fight all of them alone and also find you and—”

“I know.” he cuts you off so easily but still not looking at you.

“…Then why are you—”

“Doesn’t mean I like it.”

His voice is low but there is something under it. Something tight.

You hesitate. Then try again, a little more carefully.

“I was just pretending,” you say “it didn't mean anything. It was just to trick them so I could free you.”

No answer, not even a small one.

You frown slightly then tilt your head “…Are you… jealous?”

You try to make the air lighter with some teasing and a small smile.

But nothing… no reaction… not even a sound.

Zoro walks a few steps more and then he drops down to the ground like he’s done. One arm behind his head and then the other.

He closes his eye ignoring you.

Your mouth opens “…Seriously?”

You cross your arms “That's it?”

No answer.

You let out a small, frustrated sound as you sit down next to him.

Close but not touching.

“Zoro…” you try again.

Softer now.

“I wasn’t enjoying it.” you say “It was annoying. They were annoying.”

He doesn’t move.

“I only thought about getting to you,” you continue, quieter “That’s all.”

Still nothing.

You glance at him, at his face and at how calm he pretends to be.

You lean a little closer.

“…You know I wouldn't choose them over you, right?”

The wind moves softly around you both.

“…And you’re the only one I’d do something that stupid for.” you add, almost mumbling now.

There's a small shift.

You smile a little.

“…Also,” you add, trying again, lighter now, “if I really wanted to have fun, I wouldn’t pick them.”

Then he finally moves “…Tch.”

You grin a little wider, leaning back on your hands “…So you are jealous.”

This time he opens his eye slightly, enough to look at you. Still a little annoyed.

“…Keep talking,” he mutters, “and I will go back and let them capture me again.”

You laugh softly and stretch your arms a little, then glance at him from the side as asmall smile forms on your lips.

“So?” you say lightly.

He doesn’t react but you lean closer anyway.

“No kiss for your saviour?”

And before he can answer, you close your eyes, tilt your face and your lips slightly puckered, waiting.

There’s a small sound from him “…Tch.”

Soft, like he’s tired.

You wait.

…Nothing.

Your brows pinch slightly and slowly when you feel his body move, you open one eye, then the other.

His face turned the opposite way, looking anywhere but at you, like you aren’t even there.

You blink then pout “…Rude.”

Without asking you shift carefully and drop your head onto his lap, looking up at him now.

That gets his attention and his eye moves down to you immediately, finally.

You smile, soft and a little teasing.

“You know?” you say quietly “As much as you pretend…”

You tilt your head just a little against him “…your blush always gives you away.”

A soft laugh leaves your lips.

He freezes for a second then his gaze sharpens slightly but he doesn’t look away this time.

Slowly his hand lifts and he places his rough fingers against your cheek. Warm and gentle. His thumb brushes lightly over your skin.

You go still, just watching him now.

“…Don’t do that ever again.” he says.

His voice is low and serious, “I’d rather die.”

You blink.

Then you laugh softly, a little surprised.

“Wow…” you murmur “You're that jealous?”

“…Tch.” he pushes your head lightly like he’s one with you.

You let out a small sound, then sit up again, fixing your balance “Hey!”

“Idiot…” he mutters.

You pause and smile. You lean in again a little.

“Kiss?” you ask, quieter this time.

He doesn't answer. Instead, he moves, leaning toward you… and then he kisses you.

It’s… warm.

When he pulls back, slightly, you’re still close enough to feel his breath.

“…Next time,” he murmurs, voice low, “there won't be a next time.”

You smile “…Where’s the fun in that?”

“…Tch.”

"Yes, and stop smirking at me. It's not funny!"

"It's a little funny."

"Sabo," you warn.

"Sorry," he quickly apologizes before taking a deep breath and taking a couple steps forward, closing the gap between you. "What can I do to make it better?"

You grin. "Carry me?"

Sabo lets out a brief, amused laugh, but he nods his head nonetheless.

"Of course, princess," he teases.

You shrug the name off, lifting a finger to twirl in a circle, silently signaling that you want Sabo to turn around so you can climb on his back. He laughs again and rolls his eyes, but he turns around anyway, bending a little at the knee so that he's low enough for you to climb on. The moment he's closer to the ground, you wrap your arms around his neck and hop. Sabo quickly catches your legs, gripping your thighs firmly before hoisting you up his back a little more as he stands straight. You smile and hide your face in his neck, inhaling the comforting, musky scent of your boyfriend.

"Thank you," you whisper, voice muffled by his shoulder.

"You're welcome," he laughs, taking a step forward and continuing the walk back to the ship so you can return to Baltigo.

"I shouldn't have worn heels," you say.

"Maybe not," he agrees.

"They looked cute, though."

"They did."

"The piggyback is nice."

"Anything to have your legs wrapped around me," he jokes, lips curling up into a self-satisfied smirk.

You raise your head enough to shoot him a glare, smacking his chest lightly as you let out an indignant huff.

"Sabo!"

────﹒♡﹒ ──────﹒♡﹒──────﹒♡﹒────

portgas d. ace

“My dearest, handsomest, funniest, Ace,” you call out teasingly to your boyfriend, who is walking beside you and playfully swinging your joined hands between you.

Ace laughs, a happy smirk pulling at the corners of his lips.

“Yes, my beloved, beautifullest, smartest, Y/N?” He responds, a teasing lilt to his voice.

“You know how I would never regret a good fashion choice, right?”

“Of course,” he laughs, eyes quickly dropping to the heels you had insisted on wearing today before returning to your face.

You catch the action and groan internally. Of course he caught on and already knows where you’re going with this.

“Well, I don’t regret my outfit choices at all, to be clear,” you say, “however, I do lament the side effects of my choice in footwear.”

Ace snorts at your explanation, especially your formal choice of words as you try to justify the painful heels you chose to wear.

“Naturally,” he teases.

“With that said, my love, I wonder if you might help me out because you just appreciate how pretty I look in this outfit and would hate for me to continue to live my life in pain with every step I take.”

“You want me to carry you, baby?” Ace asks, an amused smile stretching across his face.

“Yes, please,” you say meekly. Gratefully.

“C’mere, then!” Ace says as he stops walking, reaching his hands out to settle at your waist as he turns to you. Once his hands find a solid grip on your waist, Ace hoists you up and throws you over his shoulder, leaving you to squeal in surprise. He lets one hand stay on your waist and the other falls to rest behind your knees, holding you steady where he’s placed you on his shoulder.

“Ace!” You exclaim, smacking him softly on the back. “I meant, like, a piggyback ride, not for you to throw me over your shoulder like a sack of potatoes!”

“You wanted to be carried, didn’t you? Beggars can’t be choosers, baby!” Ace says cheerily, letting his hand briefly leave your legs to smack your ass playfully.

You squeak at the spank, but settle in quickly.

“Fine,” you say, “as long as I don’t have to walk.”

“That’s the spirit!”

“I hate you,” you groan.

“I love you, too!” Ace smiles.

────﹒♡﹒ ──────﹒♡﹒──────﹒♡﹒────

trafalgar law

“Hypothetically,” you say as you walk side by side with Law.

“No,” Law immediately cuts you off with that no nonsense tone of his.

You huff, crossing your arms.

“You don’t even know what I was going to say,” you complain.

Law smirks.

“I have an idea.”

“Oh, do you?” You challenge. “What’s that idea of yours, o intelligent one?”

“You want me to carry you,” he says. “So, no.”

You laugh humorlessly.

“What? Have you carry me? Pshh. No.” You look away in the opposite direction of Law because, unfortunately, his assumption is correct. You do want him to carry you. In your defense, though, your feet really hurt.

Law laughs softly, eyes brimming with affection for you and your antics, but he says nothing more. The two of you walk in silence for a bit more.

“The Tang is pretty far away…” You say after a while.

“Yes,” Law replies, and his amused smirk is back on his face.

“My shoes are nice, don’t you think?” You try not wince at a particularly painful step.

“They are,” Law agrees. “You look beautiful tonight,” he adds. You flush.

“Thanks. I mean, we did go on a date and all. It was nice, but Law?”

“Hmm?”

“Hypothetically, if I wore really uncomfortable shoes to look nice for our date, and—hypothetically—if said shoes were really hurting my feet, would you feel sorry enough for me to carry me the rest of the way back? Hypothetically.”

“Tch. Of course I would, but this is a hypothetical, yes?”

You groan.

“Law, please carry me. My feet are killing me!” You stick your bottom lip out in a pout.

Law sighs. “You know, if you’d listened to me back in the ship when I told you this would happen, you wouldn’t have to beg for me to carry you.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re so smart, and I should’ve listened, but, Law, please. This isn’t hypothetical anymore.”

Law stops walking (finally) and turns to face you, an eyebrow raised as he considers you, sighing as any resolve not to carry you breaks.

“Tch. C’mere,” he mumbles, turning around and bending at the knee so that you can climb on.

Smiling like you won the lottery, you quickly place yourself behind Law, resting your arms on his strong shoulders, and hopping onto his back. Law grunts lowly at the impact, but his hands catch you under your thighs, hoisting you further up his back as he stands straight.

“Let’s go,” he says simply, letting his thumbs briefly rubbing small circles in your thighs before continuing the walk back to the submarine.

“Thank you, love,” you whisper in his ear, and you swear you feel the pirate captain shiver at your words.

“Don’t mention it,” he says simply, but his cheeks flush despite himself. “Just wear better shoes next time.”