#another fic down 349034 more to go

[soleilnomoon]

May I get a oatmeal raisin cookie, dulce de leche roll, nougat, with caramel on top with Law from One Piece, with a f!reader, please?

hiii angel 😊💕 ty for your patience, i had fun writing this one, something short & sweet as law is the worst and i h8 him (i'm lying ofc).

1.8k words, fem reader, nsfw, 18+ mdni, a lil bit of angst (i can never help myself ok) mixed w. smut; feat. cute thangs like law being the worst ever, delusion on both law and reader's part, rough (consensual) sex, reader as always lacks self-preservation, but that's how i like her; law likes to think he's above intimacy but lbr he ain't. (if u see spelling/grammatical errors, no u didn't <3)

if he’s honest with himself — and he often isn’t — you brought this on yourself. he’s grown beyond tired of repeating himself throughout the day; he tells you as much after he instructs you to hold onto the backs of your thighs to expose your pussy to him in a way you’ve never done before. there’s something almost clinical about the way his amber eyes take in your body. his gaze is hawkish, a little cold, but also very familiar — leaving behind a blazing path with every passing second.

you knew you shouldn’t have pushed him, but you were having so much fun earlier, and things are always exciting whenever he gets angry. what you didn’t count on, was law reacting so quickly. normally he lets you have your way and then deals with you the next day, preferring to drag out his punishments — but today, you really toed the line. you’d be proud if you weren’t currently in a bind.

one ironclad rule that everyone on board the polar tang follows, is to never disturb the captain while he’s working. on the rare occasions where there’s an absolute need for his assistance, he’ll make an exception — but you’ve never cared about that, often provoking him in front of the others, flirting as you taunt him by not wearing the appropriate attire in the submarine.

trafalgar law thrives on order, on ensuring his crew follows his plans exactly the way he wants them to, and without question, too. you’ve always thought the others archaic and ridiculous for following him blindly like that, and, besides, law makes it easy to tease him. constantly finding reasons to touch him, always making sure to sit right next to him during meals, your hand drifting to touch his thigh under the table, nails dragging down he inseam of his denim.

whenever you act like that, whenever you brush up against him with the intent of rattling his nerves, he has to remind himself that it’s not feasible for him to fuck you on the table for everyone to see exactly how he likes to deal with you. it’s because you know he won’t do it, that you keep poking.

he stopped fighting you ages ago, but he doesn’t let you get away with much in front of the others.

except for today. you actually managed to fluster him in an irreparable way, so he’s teaching you a lesson.

there are books, papers, and pens scattered on the floor near the desk — law shoved them off to drop you on the surface without restriction. you’re on your back, hot tears pooling around your eyes, threatening to roll down your round cheeks without mercy.

when he originally called you into his office, you figured he’d give you a lecture then send you on your way; but the moment you entered, he had you backed against the door, long fingers wrapped around your throat, squeezing tightly. you’re normally not so careless to let yourself be caught off guard like that, but he has height and strength to his advantage always.

you expected him to kiss you then, to make you fall apart without even doing much — but he didn’t, as usual, he always refuses to kiss you. the sting of that rejection somehow always leaves you with a bitter feeling that you swallow with great difficulty each time. you don’t know why you get your hopes up like that; law isn’t intimate, nor does he crave any sort of romantic companionship. you know that, and yet you still can’t help yourself; hope is a dangerous thing, so you unfortunately have to learn that lesson repeatedly.

“don’t move,” is all he says when he slides the tip of his cock inside your tight hole before snapping his hips forward, the motion making your hips twitch and has your pussy clench around him. it’s pure desperation that has you whimpering and pleading with him to hurry up.

he doesn’t listen — and why would he? he’s the one in charge here, not you. still, he doesn’t make you wait for long, as he thrusts his cock in and out, enjoying the way your slick clings to his length, your thighs warm and soft each time his hips meet yours. you bite down hard on your bottom lip, hoping to keep quiet — knowing it’ll piss him off even more, but law isn’t having it. he plucks your lip away from your teeth, cock pounding into you harder, making you choke on his name.

“behave,” he clicks his tongue afterward, but gives you a dark smile. “you’ll take what i give you and like it.” more than like it, really; your mind is a jumbled mess, thoughts bouncing around erratically, heart beating too fast, as if you’re running an eternal marathon. he leans down, licks along your collarbone, nipping at the skin there, hips rolling against yours at a devastating pace. it makes you rethink all the times you acted out, makes you want to repent somehow — and this does serve as some sort of penance, even if you’re getting pleasure out of it.

and he is too; out of your submission, out of his domination of you. it’s always exhilarating when he has the upper hand in any given situation, but with you he’s amplified tenfold, and he doesn’t know why. or he pretends he doesn’t, anyway.

when you plead for him to slow down, he sucks his teeth and speeds up, reminding that he’s the one in charge — and always has been. your pussy swallows most of his length, a feat that he continues to remain in awe of. no matter how rough he is with you, you always manage to survive and he supposes he likes that about you.

your tenacity is dangerous, though, and if he’s not careful he might end up liking you more than necessary. even though he already does. he watches the expressions on your face, the ecstasy despite all your complaints — you just like running your mouth, is all; he knows that now.

law pulls out of you without warning, leaving a aching, vacant feeling in your pussy. you open your mouth to protest, but he motions for you to get on your hands and knees. he hisses in annoyance when you rub your ass against his hardened length; his patience is practically nonexistent, and you feel it when he grabs your ass and thrusts inside you again.

the change in position has you arching your back, a bit of drool gliding down your bottom lip and spilling onto your chin as you reach back and grab his hip. you bounce your ass against him, matching the timing of his thrusts; a warmth crawls around his chest as he watches the way his cock moves in and out of your pussy. he doesn’t know what to do with that feeling, so he swallows back a groan and grabs a fistful of your hair to pull you closer.

your whining grips him around the throat, makes him think about going easier on you — but then he remembers your insolence and drags his lips along the curve of your ear.

“stop running.”

an impossible request, you know that he knows that; but you take it anyway, grateful that he’s fucking you hard enough to make you forget you have feelings for him. you know later on you’ll mull over what you should or shouldn’t have said, but for now you’ll enjoy the way his cock kisses a spot so deep that it has your eyes rolling back. your words are barely coherent when he kisses the side of your neck, and he almost moans your name out loud when you clench around him in retaliation. and, because he refuses to let you push things in your favor, he rubs your clit with his fingers, your wetness dripping down your thighs so prettily, pussy squelching loudly with each thrust of his cock.

you know that this will only end with your heart in torn carelessly into pieces, but you don’t care; the rush that overwhelms you with each orgasm he gives you is worth it. it’s a powerful delusion, one that you’ll keep for as long as you can. law pinches your clit impulsively, and the way you tremble beneath him, the way you cry out for more more more nearly incapacitates him.

but he stands strong, thankfully.

it’s only when his strokes get sloppy and frenetic, that an orgasm seizes control of your body.

“you’re squeezing so tight,” he says lightly, breathing uneven against your skin, pressing kisses on your shoulder, “must be feeling good, hm?” he knows why you can’t answer him, which is why he pushes you back down onto the desk and slaps your ass. you’re not sure if it’s the aggression or the fact that you’re nearly spent, but it’s like your orgasm is never ending. arousal pools around your abdomen as sweat clings to your skin; he won’t last much longer, but he wants to delude himself into thinking he can handle more.

“too much,” you manage to say, pussy overstimulated, sensitive, and puffy; but you still arch against him, still buck your hips backwards, enjoying the way law seems every bit as obsessed with you as you are with him. you know you’ll be sore in the morning, but it’ll be worth it; and you know that no matter what he says, you affect him more than he’s ever willing to admit publicly.

your pussy has him in a literal chokehold, which is always the case whenever he fucks you, but tonight it feels different. he’s not sure what it is, but something compels him to pull you flush against his chest. when you turn your face towards him, he kisses you, the impulse surprising both of you. he cums the moment your lips part and his tongue glides inside your mouth, artful and graceful as it caresses your tongue with familiarity. a flush takes hold of your body, making your skin hot to the touch, but he doesn’t stop kissing you; his thrusts are slower, almost sensual but he refuses to read too much into it. when he pulls away, he tries to catch his breath, heart suddenly much too big for his chest when he realizes what he just did. you don’t bother teasing him about it, as your body is currently out of commission, your thoughts obliterated of anything that isn’t related to him.

he glances down and sees the way your cum spills onto his desk, the sight burned into his mind. you don’t even remember if you locked the door when you came in — and anyone could’ve heard the way law had you screaming, the pleasure much to great to keep quiet no matter how hard you tried. he isn’t worried about that, though; he’s concerned with how he’s supposed to move forward now that he’s allowed you a bit of intimacy and vulnerability. he supposes he can think about that later, so for now he runs a hand down his face before giving your ass a playful slap and commending you for a job well done.