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fandomfablesunleashed · 4 days ago

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Brewed Awakenings

Law x reader (she/her)

Modern AU, Coffeshop AU, pure fluff

Summary: When Lami dragged him out for coffee, he never expected to find himself returning so often — nor was he prepared for the teasing from his close ones or how his heart would behave whenever he was near the coffee shop’s owner.

Words: 6.4k

Notes: It was requested:

I was wondering if I could request a modern trafalgar law x coffee shop owner. She's also friends with lami and laws friends...

@chillerkiller it’s finally here! Thank you for the request. I had so much fun with it.

I knew from the very beginning it was going to be a longer one, but I didn’t expect it to be that long. I also have so many more ideas for it that I’ll definitely return to in the future — like the reader attending some kind of dinner at Law’s parents’ place, or Lami talking Law up to her (maybe even from Lami’s POV?).

English is not my first language

Masterlist

Lami was rambling again, her words tumbling out in an endless stream, fast and a little too loud for the quiet morning, as she walked ahead. Law followed a few steps behind, hands in his pockets, only catching every third word. He didn’t mind. He’d spent so many years dealing with her over-the-top enthusiasm, it barely registered anymore.

Suddenly, she stopped.

“Let’s go to this café! My friend owns it. It’s such a vibe,” she said, spinning around to face him. “Like, plants everywhere, cool furniture, and their lattes are unbelievable!”

Law gave her a look, one brow raised in practiced skepticism. “I'm not paying for overpriced coffee.”

Lami rolled her eyes with a dramatic groan. “Stop being such a grump! Just trust me for once, okay?” With her smile as vibrant as her spirit, she grabbed his arm with both hands and gave it a playful shake.

It was truly a wonder how they were so different.

He sighed resigned, already envisioning his wallet weeping.“Fine, fine.” he muttered, dragging his feet toward the café door. “But this better be good.”

She let out a delighted squeal, pulling him forward with boundless energy. The café was tucked between a bookstore and a florist. A string of warm fairy lights decorated the awning, and the scent of fresh pastries drifted out every time the door opened. It definitely seemed like a place Lami would like.

Law stepped inside, and despite himself, felt his defenses loosen. It was annoyingly nice. Plush chairs and fluffy cushions invited visitors to settle in and stay a while, and the scent of coffee beans provided a pleasant atmosphere. Everything felt thoughtfully put together, from the crocheted throws laid over the armrests to the potted plants on the windowsills.

Lami was already at the counter babbling away with the barista. Her hands moved as rapidly as her mouth, gesturing wildly, probably recounting some overblown version of how she ended up here.

Law sighed and made his way over.

“—yeah, so I dragged him here…” she was saying. Her whole face lit up like a switch had been flipped, and she turned slightly towards him. “ Oh, here he is. This is my brother Law.”

He gave a small nod, just enough to be polite, and shoved his hands deeper into his pockets.

“Hi!” You introduced yourself with a bright smile. Too bright for his liking, but it did have a pleasant warmth to it.

Warmth?

Maybe he did need a coffee.

“So,” you said, leaning casually against the counter as you tapped at the screen, “What can I get for you two?”

Lami answered smoothly. “I'll have the caramel latte. Oat milk. Extra foam. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” You grinned, matching her ease with a teasing wink as your fingers moved across the screen. Then you glanced up at Law. “And you?”

Law looked at the menu like it was written in ancient code. Seriously, who needs a dozen different names for coffee?

“Uh… just a regular coffee. Black.”

You gasped, clutching your chest dramatically. “Daring choice.”

Lami stifled a laugh, elbowing him. “Come on, be a little adventurous. They make this cold brew, you will like it.”

He opened his mouth, ready with a flat-out no, already picturing whatever overly complicated nonsense she wanted him to order. But before he could get the words out, you stepped in.

“Would you entertain the cardamom version of it?” you asked, tone light, but with a challenge tucked neatly behind your words.

Mischief played at the corners of your mouth, like you were enjoying this just a little more than you should. He should’ve been annoyed. Usually, he would’ve been. But instead, he found himself holding your gaze for a second too long.

What the hell was wrong with him? Since when did teasing from strangers feel anything but irritating? Why was he even entertaining this?

“Fine. Cardamom cold brew. Surprise me.”

“Dangerous words, but okay,” you said, turning to start on the drinks.

Law found his gaze lingering the effortless rhythm of your movements. He couldn't help but admire how quick and confident your hands were, how your smile stayed on even when you weren't facing them. How you—

He caught himself, snapping his eyes away, cheeks heating with a sudden, self-directed annoyance.

“You're staring,” Lami whispered under her breath, her tone smug enough to make him grit his teeth.

“No, I’m not,” he muttered.

She just smirked. “Oh, you so are.”

They found a table near the window—Lami instantly claiming the seat she wanted. Law sat across from her, arms crossed, trying to act like he wasn’t thinking too hard about the barista.

The moments passed in a comfortable blur of café noise and the occasional clink of ceramic. Law watched the steam twist from someone’s mug at the next table, doing his best to ignore Lami’s sly glances.

Then, footsteps.

“Fancy foam cloud for my lovely friend.” you announced, setting the glass down in front of Lami with a practiced flourish. “And cardamom cold brew for you.” The amber liquid caught the light, the ice clinking softly, and it looked surprisingly inviting.

“Thank you,” Lami said with an exaggerated curtsy from her chair. “We are but humble peasants before your amazing coffee skills.”

You grinned, but your eyes settled on Law. “Let me know what you think.”

Law lifted the glass, hesitating just a moment before taking a cautious sip. His eyes blinked in surprise, the unexpected flavor blooming on his tongue. “Huh. That's… actually good.”

“I told you!” Lami nearly shouted, her grin wide as usual. “He's usually allergic to anything vaguely enjoyable.”

“Well,” you said with a sly smile, “miracles happen. Maybe next time you’ll even try matcha.”

Law gave a dry chuckle. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

But his eyes met yours, just for a little while. That moment stretched just long enough for Lami to clear her throat—loud, drawn-out, and utterly impossible to ignore.

“Anyway,” she said, flashing a smirk that said she was both amused and smug,“I’m just gonna scroll my phone completely silently and not third-wheel whatever’s happening here.”

You straightened, breaking the eye contact. “Way to make things awkward,” you laughed it off quickly. “I’ll let you enjoy your drinks. But if you want a refill, I’ll be right over there.”

With that, you walked away, leaving Law watching your retreating figure until he caught himself and looked away, ears warming slightly.

Lami just sipped her latte like she’d won a bet.

He needed coffee—desperately. And he knew your café wasn’t overpriced, which made it the obvious choice. It made perfect sense, really, to stop by that little corner spot his sister had dragged him to not long ago.

But you weren’t behind the counter this time.

The realization hit him with a faint, inexplicable pang. Disappointment? That was stupid. He was just here for caffeine. Still, he couldn’t help scanning the place one more time, just to be certain you weren’t hiding in the back or stepping out from the kitchen.

He shook it off. It was better this way, anyway. If you’d seen him, you might’ve mentioned it to Lami, and she’d never let him hear the end of it.

And he was here just for a coffee. Nothing else.

As he stepped up to the counter, ready to place his order, the barista behind the register glanced over his shoulder as someone tapped it.

“I’ve got it. Go take the order to table five,” you said, casually slipping in behind the counter with ease, as you took the other barista’s place.

“Hi there.” You smiled, warm and a little amused. “Law, right?”

He blinked, suddenly all too aware of the way his heart had decided to pick up the pace. He was here for coffee. Just coffee. And yet, here you were, standing in front of him, smile soft, eyes bright, and suddenly the café felt a little warmer than it had a minute ago.

“… Yeah,” he said, clearing his throat. “That’s me.”

“What can I get you?”

“Coffee. Black.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Still adventurous, I see.”

“This time I won’t be talked into anything else.”

“I thought you said the cardamom cold brew was good,” you countered, folding your arms as if genuinely curious. Were you teasing him again? Or was that real disappointed?

“It was,” he said quickly, a little too quickly, the words rushing out in his effort to sound convincing. He coughed, adjusted his posture, and continued in a more composed voice, “It was good. I just need a normal coffee today.”

You tilted your head, eyes narrowing playfully. “Ah, and everything other than an espresso isn’t normal?”

He exhaled, lips twitching at the corners. “Something like that.”

“Anything else?” you asked, your fingers already hovering near the register keys.

“No,” he said, almost too firmly. Then, catching himself, he added more gently, “That’s it.”

“All right,” you said, already turning to grab a cup. “Here or to go?”

He hesitated.

To go. That had been the plan. Grab the coffee, nod politely, walk out.

“Here.”

Your smile widened. Were you pleased by that? “Sure. Go grab a seat. I’ll bring your coffee over in a minute.”

There was a perfect empty spot by the window—sunlit, quiet, with just enough distance from the others. Another was tucked into the back, half-hidden, ideal for solitude.

But he didn’t pick either of those.

Instead, he chose the table closest to the bar. From there, he’d have an unobstructed view of the counter. He told himself it was convenient. Close to order something else if needed. Easy to leave when he was done.

But convenience didn’t explain the way his eyes kept drifting to where you worked, moving with effortless proficiency between the coffee machine and register, chatting with customers like you knew every name and every order. He wouldn’t be surprised if you did.

A few minutes later, you approached with his drink.

“Here you go,” you said, setting the mug down. “One very normal, very unadventurous black coffee.”

He huffed a quiet laugh. “Perfect.”

“Enjoy.” You started to leave, already pivoting back toward the counter.

“Wait.”

The word left his mouth before he could think better of it. His hand half-raised, as if he might reach out but stopped himself.

You paused, turning to look at him again, brows lifting slightly.

Why had he stopped you?

You were working—busy. Moving through a dozen things at once, and he’d just added one more.

“Something wrong with the order?”

“No. No… umm…” He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly hyper-aware of how ridiculous he must sound. “I actually might want to eat something,” he managed. “I can go to the register to order that.”

You waved a hand, already slipping back into that calm, easy tone. “No, it’s cool. Want something sweet, or...?”

He hesitated, caught off guard by the question. What did he want?

“How about a croissant? Or maybe a muffin? I think you’d like that one.”

There was something so casual and certain in your voice. Like you’d already figured him out. It made him wonder—had Lami spoken to you about him? What did she say?

He nodded slowly. “Both. I’d like both.”

Your smile warmed even more. “Sure thing.”

When you returned a few minutes later with the plate, he mumbled a quiet thank you, eyes darting down like he hadn’t just been watching the counter the whole time. You placed the food in front of him with that same radiant smile, like you knew him better than you had any right to.

And damn it, you were right. The muffin was perfect.

He took another bite and stared straight ahead, pretending he didn’t glance back at you every time you passed by. Pretending he didn’t like the sound of your laugh when you talked to another customer. Pretending he didn’t already know he’d be back tomorrow.

And the day after that.

Just for the coffee. Of course.

Law had developed a very elaborate lie. One that he repeated to himself so often it almost sounded true: the café just happens to be on his way.

Never mind that it wasn’t. At all. In fact, it was at least a fifteen-minute detour from anywhere he usually went. But somehow, he found himself passing by more and more. Sometimes he went in for a coffee. Sometimes he didn’t. He’d walk by just to check if the lights were on. Just to see if you were there.

Not that he cared. Obviously.

That evening, the café was quiet. Just Law, clicking on his laptop, his coffee long finished. The soft playlist had long since turned to slower, moodier songs. You were behind the counter, wiping things down, the sleeves of your sweater pushed up in that careless way that was starting to feel too familiar.

You glanced up, then over at the wall clock.

“We’re closing soon.”

Law blinked, snapped out of whatever daze he was in. “Oh. Right. Sorry—I’ll get going.” He pushed his chair back, the legs scraping against the floor as he stood, a little too fast.

“No.”

He paused mid-rise. “No?”

You hesitated for half a second, then shrugged, as casually as possible. “I mean… you can stay. While I close up. I don’t usually offer that, but… you’re a friend. So.”

Friend.

That word landed in his chest a little heavier than it should’ve. Friend. Was that what this was?

He sat back down slowly, giving you a careful look, but you were already turning back to the espresso machine.

A moment later, he caught the sound of footsteps approaching. When he looked up, you were already there, a ceramic mug nestled between your hands. You set it in front of him without a word.

Law frowned, confused. “I didn’t order anything.”

You just gave him a half-smile, calm and a little playful. Like you’d been expecting the protest. “I know. It’s on the house.”

“What? No. I didn’t pay for that.”

“And I’m telling you it’s fine.” You nudged the mug an inch closer with your fingertips. “You’ve tipped enough times to fund half my rent.”

He stared at the drink again, then back up at you, unsure what to say. You weren't being pushy. Just kind. Maybe too kind. And he didn’t know what to do with that.

“…Thanks,” he murmured, picking up the mug.

You smiled and turned back toward the counter, humming quietly as you started closing up for the night. You didn’t see him watching. Or likely you did and just let him.

So Law sat there, sipping something he didn’t order, in a place he pretended didn’t mean anything—watching you move through the dim-lit café that felt so unmistakably yours.

“I'm telling you. He is so into her!” he heard Lami overexcited voice in the kitchen. Law froze just outside the doorway, one hand still resting on the wall. He could already feel the warmth rising in his face.

Great. Of course, she had to tell them.

He stepped into the room, jaw already tightening.

Lami was perched on a chair, mid-rant, waving a fork around like crazy. Across from her, Shachi nearly choked on his drink, trying to suppress a laugh. Bepo tilted his head, listening closely, while Penguin had his arms crossed and an I-knew-it smirk that made Law want to turn right back around.

Lami didn’t even slow down as Law walked in.

“I mean, come on,” she said, gesturing like the evidence was undeniable. “He watches her like she’s the only person in the room. And he is there like all the freaking time. It’s adorable. Painfully awkward, probably weird, but adorable. So into her.”

“I am not!” Law called out from across the kitchen, sharper than he meant it to be.

Lami didn’t even flinch. “You so are!” she sang back, grinning like she’d already won the argument.

“I’m not,” he repeated, more firmly this time

Shachi leaned casually against the counter, “The way you keep on disagreeing makes it less unbelievable.”

Penguin chuckled beside him. “It’s like textbook denial.”

He just scoffed. Great. Why is everyone suddenly an expert on his personal life?

Before he could shut it down, Bepo piped up from across the room. “I would like to meet her.”

Law turned slowly, fixing him with a flat stare. “Absolutely not.”

Penguin chimed in immediately, grinning like a cat who'd just cornered a canary. “You said you’re not into her, so why can’t we meet Lami’s friend?” His brows rose in mock innocence. “Unless, of course, you're lying.”

Law’s hand tightened around the edge of the counter. He was half a second from snapping—really snapping. To tell all of them off.

But then—

“Ohh who is our Law interested in?”

Perfect. Because if there was one thing he needed right now, it was more people getting involved. Especially his mother.

She stood in the doorway, arms crossed, eyes twinkling with way too much amusement. She was already smiling, like she’d heard enough to draw her own conclusions.

“No one.” He answered quickly. But it didn’t matter—because it was already too late. The spark had caught, and now the wildfire was spreading.

Lami, naturally, didn’t let it drop. Her grin was positively diabolical. “Remember my friend who owns a cafe? That's her.”

His expression stayed blank, but internally, he was already drafting several increasingly creative revenge plans. His little sister had to be some kind of devil reincarnated. There was no other explanation.

“Oh, she is really nice and pretty” his mum cooed. “You know, she’d make a wonderful daughter-in-law.”

His friends immediately erupted into whistles and applause, Lami was grinning like crazy.

And that conversation was moving way too far.

Then his dad walked into the room, eyeing the lively crowd with raised brows. “Did I hear right?” he asked. “Is Law finally really interested in someone?”

“Yes!” his mother said, her voice bright with excitement, as if she’d been waiting years for this exact question. “We met her once, remember? That sweet girl who owns the café Lami likes? Such a lovely girl—”

Law rubbed his temple. “Mum, please.”

“She gave me an extra cookie. Can you imagine? So thoughtful. And she laughed at your father’s awful pun, honestly—”

“I thought it was a good pun,” his dad muttered.

Lami looked like she might explode with delight. Shachi, Penguin and Bepo had stopped even pretending to be subtle, practically howling with laughter at the counter.

Law, meanwhile, was reevaluating every decision that had led him to this exact moment.

“It’s not like that,” he mumbled, more to the universe than anyone else.

“Oh, don’t be shy,” his mum said with a warm smile, stepping forward to smooth his hair like he was ten again. “We’re just happy for you. You’re always so serious. It’s nice to see a little light in your eyes.”

Law groaned. He really needed a way out of this conversation.

He opened his mouth to shut it down, to reclaim control, but—

“She could even help you relax a little,” his dad added thoughtfully, as if this were a perfectly rational thing to say. “You’ve always been so… tense.”

Law turned slowly, eyes narrowing. “I am relaxed.”

“You’re literally clenching your jaw right now,” Bepo said helpfully.

Law pinched the bridge of his nose.

This cannot be happening.

He tried—really tried—to tune it all out: the excited chatter, the exaggerated retellings of his imagined love life, the growing plans for weddings, grandchildren, and god-knows-what-else.

One voice still managed to cut through.

“Sure, I will bring you guys there,” Lami said brightly, and Law’s stomach dropped.

His head snapped up. “Absolutely not.”

And of course, they didn't listen to him.

Penguin let out a cheer. “Yes! I’ve been wanting to try that fancy cinnamon thing you keep raving about.”

Shachi was already pulling out his phone. “What time should we meet?”

Law stared at them, somewhere between horror and disbelief. “I said no.”

“Relax.” Lami grinned devilishly.

“It’s not a zoo exhibit. She’s not—this isn’t—just no.”

But again—no one was listening.

You befriended them way too quickly. So quickly, in fact, that Law couldn’t even pinpoint the exact moment it happened. One day, Lami casually introduced you and next he was sitting awkwardly in the corner while you blabbed about something with his friends.

It wasn't a busy day, so you were able to speak with them freely. You were leaned over Bepo, animatedly recounting some ridiculous story that had Penguin wheezing with laughter and Shachi nearly falling out of his seat.

He wished he would see you like this with just him.

Damn.

Where the hell had that thought come from?

“You have to show me it one day.” you said, turning his attention to him.

Wait, what?

He hadn’t heard the first part of the conversation—too busy drowning in the dangerous swirl of his own thoughts. You must’ve noticed the confusion on his face because instead of rolling your eyes or calling him out for zoning out, you just smiled.

“Your coins,” you clarified, tilting your head slightly, that curious sparkle still in your eyes. “Bepo mentioned you collect them.”

Shachi had the nerve to wiggle his eyebrows. Penguin threw him a thumbs-up. Bepo tried—and failed—to look innocent.

He ought to kill them. Slowly.

“It's not that interesting” he brushed it off.

But you didn’t let it go. You leaned in, your expression entirely sincere, completely unaffected by his gruff dismissal.

“I disagree,” you said, like it was fact. Like it mattered. “I mean, you let me talk your ear off about different tea brewing techniques for nearly an hour. The least I can do is learn about something you care about.”

You said like it was obvious. Completely normal thing to do.

Why then his heart react this way?

Damn it.

If it wasn’t already too much that you had somehow befriended his friends, and somehow met his parents already—then this was a line he hadn’t prepared for.

The familiar aroma of cinnamon and roasted coffee beans enveloped him as he entered the café, the bell above the door ringing softly behind him. Third time this week. Pathetic. But the place was quiet, your coffee was good, and you were—well, he hadn't worked that part out yet.

And then he saw them.

There, comfortably seated near the counter, sipping drinks were Lami and Corazon.

He could maybe turn around. The door was still swinging gently behind him. If he was fast—

“Law!” Lami—his demon of a sister—called, voice sugar-sweet, all faux-innocence. “Fancy seeing you here!”

She knew. Of course, she knew. She always knew his schedule, she must’ve orchestrated this whole thing like a smug little devil. Law gave her a stern glare. She beamed back, all sunshine and trouble. She had absolutely done this on purpose.

Corazon waved awkwardly, his sleeve knocking over the napkin dispenser.

His pulse jumped as he caught sight of you behind the counter, smiling warmly at him. “Hi. Nice to see you again.”

He nodded, and made his way toward the table. “I was in the area.” he muttered, avoiding direct eye contact with you more than anyone. As if he could play off the fact that this was the third time this week he’d conveniently been in the area.

“He planned his route to come here. Don’t let him lie to you.” Lami said to Corazon, but with how loud she was talking she must have wanted you to hear too.

He turned his head slowly, glaring daggers at her from across the table. “Lami.”

But the little gremlin only grinned.

You brought over the coffee before he even managed to order something. “House blend,” you said cheerfully. “Made it fresh. Thought you might like to try something different this time.”

“Thanks,” Law said, a little too quickly. He cleared his throat after, pretending to focus intensely on the mug you just placed in front of him.

“Oh! Are you the one who makes those little muffins he likes so much?” Corazon asked, perking up suddenly. “I tried to take one, and I nearly lost a hand.”

Law choked on his coffee. “I do not—” he began, voice sharp with protest, but Lami was already talking over him.

“Oh yes, he is really possessive of them. One time I reached for the last one, and he gave me this look like I’d committed treason.”

“They’re good,” he snapped, the tips of his ears visibly turning pink as he reached for his cup.

You were laughing now. That, delighted sound that always managed to do something strange to his insides—like his ribs forgot they were supposed to protect his heart. “I’ll have to remember that. Maybe sneak extra ones into your order next time.”

“You don’t have to do that,” he said, avoiding your gaze. “I mean, it’s not necessary.”

Corazon, oblivious or pretending to be, leaned toward you. “He gets all flustered when people do nice things for him. It’s adorable.”

Law looked up, horrified. “Cora—”

“Truly heartwarming,” Lami added, clasping her hands to her chest

He could feel the heat in his face now.

“Well, I think it’s endearing. Now, I should get back to the counter. Let me know if you need anything else.”

Law nodded stiffly, barely trusting himself to speak. Did he hear you right? Did you just call him endearing? He couldn’t stop the quiet, traitorous tug at the corner of his mouth.

“You’re smiling,” Lami said, eyes narrowing like she’d spotted a rare, endangered species. “I saw that.”

“I’m not,” Law lied, already glaring in her direction.

“Oh, it’s happening,” she whispered to Corazon, stage-muttering. “He’s softening.”

He barely registered the rest of their conversation. Even after they left the café. They were definitely teasing him. Of course they were. If it had been any other day, he would’ve scowled at them, told them to shut up, threatened Lami with extra chores or Corazon with silent treatment. But now?

He didn’t care.

All he could think about was the way your eyes crinkled when you smiled.

And how warm the muffins were when pressed the small paper bag into his hand, as you were saying goodbye to them.

Now, sitting alone in his apartment, he glanced down at the small paper bag now on his desk. It was neatly folded. Ordinary. Plain. Except it wasn’t. Because scrawled across the front in your handwriting was a simple word and a small drawing.

“Enjoy ♡”

That little drawn heart next to it, so innocent yet so lethal.

The café was busier than usual. Law sat in his chosen spot near the bar, trying to focus on something that resembled work while sipping another “on-the-house” drink he definitely tried to pay for and lost that battle again. He was going to have to tip again. To repay you for all those muffins you’d slipped him lately, one after another. He’d found out from Bepo, in an offhand comment, that you baked them yourself. That they weren’t even part of the regular menu—seasonal, you’d called them. A limited treat.

But you kept making them anyway. For him. He was almost sure of it now.

Lami slid into the seat across from him without warning, setting down her own aggressively extravagant drink with extra foam art.

“You’ve got it bad,” she said, before even saying hello.

Law didn’t look up. He kept typing on his laptop. His fingers moved steadily over the laptop keys. Maybe if he just stayed focused, Lami would take the hint and drop it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He just kept typing, scrolling through a file he wasn’t actually reading, praying she’d get bored.

She didn’t.

Because she was his sister. And if there was one thing Lami never did, it was let something go.

“You’ve been here four times this week. You used to call cafés a scam, remember?”

“I like the quiet. Good place to work.”

“Liar.” She took a long sip of her drink, eyeing him over the rim. Then, casually—“Just ask her out already.”

“What? No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not interested.”

Lami raised both eyebrows slowly, full of mock offense. “Wow. That was the least convincing lie I’ve ever heard, and I once watched you fake being sick for two days to avoid a family gathering”

He scoffed. “I’m not doing this with you.”

“You’re totally doing this with me. Because clearly you’re too much of a disaster to do it yourself.” She leaned in, smiling way too gleefully. “Do you want me to ask her if she likes you?”

Law shot her a deadly look. “What are we, five?”

“Well, if the shoe fits.” Lami wiggled her eyebrows. “Seriously, I will. I’ll walk up there and be like, ‘Hey, my emotionally constipated brother wants to know if you think he’s cute—’”

“Lami.”

“—he’s got a weird thing for your muffins and pretends he doesn’t know your schedule, but he totally does—”

Law groaned and dropped his head into his hands, fingers digging into his hair as if he could physically shut out her voice. His sister had to have been created for the sole purpose of tormenting him. No other explanation made sense.

“You know what? I’ll do it.” For a terrifying moment, she looked completely capable of marching straight over to the counter and saying something she should not to you.

Law grabbed her wrist, looking up at her with barely restrained panic. “Lami. Sit down.”

She grinned, victorious. “So you are interested.” she cooed, smug as hell.

He let go of her with a sigh, leaning back in his chair, defeated. “You are the worst.”

Lami just sat down again, looking very pleased with herself. Law tried to return to his laptop, but the words on the screen blurred. He glanced toward the counter again, just briefly. And there you were. Looking his way with the ghost of a smile tugging at your lips, like maybe you’d caught a piece of that little scene.

H was so screwed.

So,” Shachi drawled, leaning his elbows on the table with a smirk that already spelled trouble, “have you asked your dream girl out finally?”

Law didn’t even get the chance to react.

“Nope,” Lami cut in instantly, grinning like she’d been waiting for that question. “He’s too chicken to do that.”

“I’m not,” Law snapped.

“Oh, Law, darling,” His mum appeared in a room carrying more trays filled with food. “How long are you planning to wait? Until she’s married with three kids?”

Shachi and Penguin burst out laughing, and Law scowled into his drink, silently weighing the pros and cons of walking out mid-dinner.

“Yes son” Then, to make things worse, his father decided to join in after he set his signature dinner meal in the middle of the table. “If you want a girl, you’ve got to make a move. Believe me, I know what I’m talking about.” he reached over to drop a casual kiss on his wife’s cheek.

“Ewwww,” Lami groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Are you gonna be this gross with your lady too?” she asked, tossing a pea his way.

It bounced off Law’s shoulder and landed on the table.

He shot her a flat look. “Don’t throw food.”

“Don’t dodge the question,” she sing-songed.

“I’m not going to be gross,” he muttered, stabbing his fork into a piece of meat. “I’m a normal person.”

“Oh, sure,” Shachi chimed in, nudging Penguin beside him. “Real normal. Especially the going to the café a few times a week to ogle the cute barista.”

Penguin snorted. “It’s a miracle she doesn’t call the cops on him.”

“Instead, he gets specially made muffins.” Even Bepo is against him.

Law froze for half a second, then resumed eating like nothing had happened. “He sells them anyway.”

“They’re not even on the menu anymore!” Lami shoutedn putting her fork down on a plate with more force than necessary. “She just keeps making them for you, and you’re still here acting like you’re not head over heels!”

“I’m not—” he started, but his father raised a brow.

“Son.”

Everyone turned to look at him.

“If your mother had made me custom muffins back in the day, I’d have proposed on the spot.”

Any minute now. Just stand up, walk out, go to your place, and pretend none of this ever happened.

But before he could move, Corazon clutched his chest with exaggerated drama. “Ah, love is such a beautiful feeling. Truly! You must do something about experiencing that, Law.”

“You definitely should,” Penguin piped in, grinning way too wide.

“Mmmmhmmm,” Shachi added, mouth full of food, giving a solemn, approving nod.

Law gritted his teeth. “Are any of you even in relationships?” he snapped, tone sharp.

That did the trick—for a second.

Shachi suddenly found his rice very fascinating. Penguin stared into his cup, Bepo stuffed his face. Even Corazon scratched the back of his head sheepishly and took a long sip of wine.

Finally, a moment of silence.

But, of course, it didn’t last.

His mother leaned forward, ever-gentle but entirely merciless. “Do you want us to help you out, sweetheart?”

“What?! No!” Law practically jumped in his seat, flushing with horror. “I’m a grown man. I can ask a girl I like out!”

The moment the words left his mouth, the table fell into the silence he had long wished for. But this quiet wasn’t a good one.

“OOOOOH!!” Corazon gasped, hands flying to his cheeks.

Law realized, with dawning horror, what he had just admitted aloud. “I didn’t mean— That’s not—” he began, but it was no use.

“Someone finally admitting he likes her!” Corazon declared, eyes shining.

More cheering. More clapping. Someone whistled. It might have been Lami.

Law buried his face in his hands. He was never going to hear the end of this.

And now he was officially screwed.

Because how the hell was he supposed to ever invite you to this circus? But most importantly—how the hell was he even going to ask you out?

That question lingered later, long after dinner, long after the teasing had finally died down, and he was alone again. He stared at the small paper bag sitting beside his laptop. The “Enjoy ♡” still visible on the front.

The café had just closed. Chairs were flipped onto tables, the lights dimmed, and everything was nearly prepared for closing. Law was leaning against the counter, fingers drumming against it as he watched you wipe down the espresso machine with diligent.

He'd stayed late again. Surprise.

You glanced up at him, raising an eyebrow with that half-smile that always made his brain short-circuit. “You gonna keep loitering or finally get a job here?”

Law cleared his throat, straightening like he was preparing to deliver a research paper. “I… actually wanted to ask you something.”

That got your attention. You turned toward him fully, curious. “Okay?”

His mouth opened. Nothing came out. He blinked, looked away for a second, then back.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.”

And yet, he didn't say anything again.

“Are you gonna ask that question, or should I learn how to mind read?”

And there it was. That smile. That smile that captured his attention every single time. And that smile was what prompted him to finally dare to ask.

“Would you—maybe—want to… go out sometime?”

“Out?”

“Not like… outside. I mean like a… a date.” He was already regretting every word. “With me. Obviously.” He paused, then added awkwardly, “…Unless there’s another guy hiding behind me who also drinks too much coffee and forgets how to be normal around you.”

There was a pause. Your smile spread and your eyes twinkle with warmth that somehow slipped into his very own bones. “You’re cute when you panic.”

He groaned, pressing his hand to his face. “I’m leaving. Forget I said anything.”

But before he could move, you moved from beside the counter and stepped close—close enough that he froze. Your hand brushed his wrist.

“Hey.”

He looked at you. You were still smiling. Not like that practiced smile you gave your clients, but the one just for him. A little nervous, maybe, but utterly breathtaking.

And before he could say anything. Before he could panic or overthink, you leaned in and kissed him.

His eyes fluttered shut without meaning to, lips parting slightly under the touch of yours. It wasn’t long. But soft and warm in a way that made his heart stutter.

When you pulled back, you grinned. How is it even possible for you to look even more beautiful? You were brightness and calm, mischief and magic, all at once, and he was undone by the way you simply existed, more breathtaking than a dream he hadn’t dared to have.

“You taste like coffee.”

Law blinked, stunned. He hadn't expected that. Of all the things you could have said, it was that.“Well… I drank way more than healthy.” A pause. His voice softened, almost against his will. “So I could see you.”

There. Said aloud, it felt foolish. He never felt so exposed before.

You laughed quietly, a disarming sound that curled into his chest and stayed there. “That’s either the sweetest or weirdest thing I’ve ever heard.”

A rare smile tugged at the corner of his lips. It surprised him, how natural it felt. “It’s both.”

And it was. He knew it. Sweet, because it was you. Weird, because it was him. Because he didn’t down cups of coffee he didn’t need, sip teas he barely recognized, or eat an absurd number of muffins under the flimsy excuse of hunger. He didn’t invent reasons to stay. But lately, he was doing all of that just to remain close to you.

You looped your fingers loosely through his. “Pick me up Friday. And try not to over-caffeinate too much. I do sell non-caffeinated options, you know.”

Law huffed, that might’ve been a laugh if he weren’t still so completely overwhelmed. Your hand was in his. Your lips had just been on his.

“Yeah,” he said, and then again, firmer. “Okay. Friday.”

He was going to have to thank Lami.

…Eventually.

#onepiece #one piece fic #trafalgar law #trafalgar law fic #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #ellairequests

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