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cic1-12 · 5 months

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Finding Out You’re Stronger Than Them - Logia Edition (Crocodile)

"Cold Blooded"

Characters: Crocodile

Reader: GN

Word Count: 3.2k

CW: smoking, mildly suggestive, reader has body mods

Summary: “Come on, Sir. If you’re so upset about the money, I could give it back. I don’t really need it,” you roll your eyes on the ‘really,’ “but I don’t intend on walking away empty-handed. You understand. Us cold-blooded types get what we want, right?”

-Thanks to @quinloki for beta'ing as my usual beta, @zoros-sheath, got sick. (Love you both, glad you're on the mend, Mama.)

Ao3 Link

Wealth was not Sir Crocodile’s ultimate goal, his burgeoning ambitions far grander than mere riches. But the vast quantity of treasure that had been stolen from him was not something he could ignore. Civil wars needed funding, and with over half of his hoard disappeared overnight–a feat that should be physically impossible–he couldn’t make the payment on the firearms he had shipped out.

He sends a pair of Officer Agents to take care of it, neither of whom report back. In the radio silence, he sends another, stronger duo this time. They also seem to vanish. Fed up, he finally sends his best, Mr. 1 and Miss Doublefinger.

Instead of hearing back from them, Crocodile finds the six bodies of his strongest Officer Agents dumped unceremoniously outside of his smoking room, beaten to shit and unconscious, but alive.

You're waiting for him inside, an unassuming masked figure picking through his humidors like you own the place.

"You picked a beautiful country to play with,” you say without looking up, inspecting an expensive cigar. “I just love the landscape of Alabasta...reminds me of home."

For a minute, he just stares, mentally running through the list of people he knows in the underworld who can both pull off a heist like that and beat his best assassins bloody. Your lavish jewelry suggests affluence, his eye especially drawn to the gold bracelet on your wrist. There’s a huge ruby mounted onto the band that’s jogging his memory in a bad way. You keep talking in the meantime.

"Sorry to invade on your private time. I understand the necessity of a good smoke break, but you wouldn’t grace me with your presence, so I had to take matters into my own hands."

You tuck the cigar behind your ear, take off your mask, and turn to face him. There are some differences from your bounty poster: You’ve changed your hair, and there’s now a gnarled scar stretching diagonally over your face, narrowly missing your eye. But the snakebite piercings are the same, as are the small, transdermal spikes implanted above your eyes, painted gold to represent your namesake.

“You’re the Thief King, Sidewinder,” Crocodile says slowly. Even with the facial scar, you’re beautiful, skin reflecting the moonlight coming through the window.

You smile at his recognition. “In the flesh.”

“It’s rare for you to leave the New World.”

“Seems you've heard a bit about me.” You look surprised at that.

“You’re a Devil Fruit user, but since you prefer to use Haki, little is known about your ability," Crocodile says, and your eyes widen. "Beyond stealing, your motives are a mystery, as you don’t engage in power struggles, nor do you rule any territory. The lack of land means no one knows where you keep your spoils.”

Of course he's heard of you. He knows the shock is an act, too. Sure enough, your expression relaxes into a casual smile. Crocodile bites down harder on his cigar. You’re notorious for targeting powerful people and getting away with it, but he'll be damned if you make a fool of him.

Crocodile takes off his jacket and tosses it onto a lounge chair. Cracking his neck, he starts to approach you. "Here are your options, thief," he says. "You can return what you've stolen willingly. Or, I can peel the nails from your fingers and rip the teeth from your skull, one by one, until you tell me where it is."

“How frightening.” You tilt your head, hands in your pockets as he gets closer. “Whatever will I do?”

He fires his hook at you, left arm becoming sand and extending. You calmly step around it, dodging by a fraction. He withdraws his hook and fires again; you step to the other side. Keeping his arm extended, he sweeps it out to the side to catch you. You duck, bending far back in an impressive show of flexibility, hands never leaving your pockets. He swings the column of sand at your feet, you hop over it. With every dodge, you move closer to him.

“I’m flattered you recognized me despite the differences from my bounty poster,” you say, pausing in your approach. “You, on the other hand, look almost exactly the same as yours. Except…” You look him up and down, seeming impressed. “I must say, Sir, the poster doesn’t do you justice.”

Rage simmers beneath Crocodile’s cool demeanor. He hates how genuine you sound–it feels more like mockery than true admiration to him. Moving faster, he forms a blade of sand with his right hand and hurls it at you.

“Desert Spada!”

You easily match his speed, side-stepping so the blade cuts through the bookshelf behind you instead. It collapses, sending a heap of wood and fine hardbacks to the floor.

“Careful now,” you chide, shining eyes focused on him.

Undeterred, he strikes again, and again, and again. Each time, you dodge effortlessly, moving with a light, fluid grace. It’s almost as if you’re dancing with him–he can see how you earned your nickname. Furniture crumbles behind you as it’s sliced and smashed to pieces. The more he attacks, the more you avoid, the angrier he gets.

Amidst the chaos, Crocodile suddenly realizes you’ve had yet to break eye contact with him, your own eyes slightly narrowed, assessing. There’s a faint smile on your face.

You're playing with him.

That only pisses him off further. He won’t become another one of your victims–Crocodile races through plans in his head as he unleashes another Desert Spada, keeping you moving as he thinks. He won’t let this end with anything but his own gain. He’ll trap you and torture you until he finds out both where his money is, and where the rest of your hoard is stashed.

You’ll regret having ever made a target out of him.

Crocodile fires off both arms at you, hook aiming for your lower half to force you to jump, while his right arm forms a blanket of sand at the ground. When you inevitably land on it, he’ll be able to grab your leg and hold you still.

As he predicts, you jump over his hook and land on the sand–but somehow, for some reason, your feet do not sink in. It’s as if there’s something solid under your feet, letting you stay at the surface. At first, he’s not certain of how you’re doing it. Crocodile withdraws the sand blanket back toward him, aiming to make you trip, but you don’t so much as lose balance, simply walking forward over the sand like there are hidden stepping stones within it.

Crocodile rapidly withdraws his hook, going to catch your neck. You duck again, even doing a little twirl as you do, as if to hammer home the fact that he can’t destabilize you.

Both Crocodile’s arms revert to their usual shapes, and he stares you down. You’re only a few feet from him now. Whatever you did to avoid slipping, it must be your Devil Fruit.

“You’re making an awful mess,” you say.

“Why did you really come to Alabasta?” Crocodile questions. “It’s a long voyage from the New World–there’s plenty of game for you there.”

“I came to see you.” Again, your words carry nothing but sincerity, and you won’t stop looking into his eyes. Your own are sparkling with mischief.

“You robbed me.”

“That was just to get your attention.”

“Careful what you wish for, thief–” Crocodile fires off a sudden attack now that you’re close. You bend back, not fully dodging it, your shirt getting sliced wide open, “–because you’ve got…it...” His words slow as he sees beneath your shirt: you’re wearing lace underneath your clothes, as well as a leather harness. He frowns, trying to figure out what it all means.

“I’m liking the energy, but will you settle down a sec? You’re destroying your lovely smoking room.”

“You attacked my officers.”

“Your lackeys are lacking.” You grin to yourself at your wordplay. “Aside from that blade guy. Mr. 1, I think it was? He was more fun than the others. Couldn’t go the distance, but entertained me for a few minutes. He wasn’t your strongest goon, was he?”

Crocodile’s face twists up in rage, giving away the answer.

“He was? Goodness… Don’t you wish you had someone stronger?” You grin. “Maybe we could help each other.”

“I don’t need your help,” he spits.

“Whatever you say,” you chirp. Then your eyes darken. “My turn now.”

You disappear. A split second later, you’ve grabbed his arm and hurled him straight through his door as if he weighed nothing. He bounces once, then catches himself, skidding backwards as he looks up, but you’re already behind him, grabbing and throwing him right back into the room.

Crocodile lets his form break up into sand, re-forming a distance away to give him a moment to spot you. His head whips left and right; you instead come from above, a brutal axe kick to his head that throws him onto his hands and knees. Pain thuds through his skull, and he clenches his teeth. Every time you make contact, there’s a moment he can’t transform. It’s that damned Haki of yours–he needs to become sand in the time you’re away from him. He dissipates once more, moving in a random direction away. You aren’t deterred at all–Observation Haki, too, it must be– as you’re right in front of him when he re-forms.

“Boo!” you hold your hands up like claws, making Crocodile flinch, and you smile, showing pointed canines. “Come on, Sir. I know you can do better than this.”

He can’t even bring his arms up to block before you punch him, black-fisted, directly in the solar plexus. He gasps, nearly dropping his cigar, body locking up for a moment before his knees buckle and hit the ground. There’s a faint smell of smoke that he realizes is coming from burned spots in the floor–from your feet?

Just what was your Devil Fruit power? If he didn’t figure it out, he might actually lose.

Suddenly you’re sitting on his shoulders, legs draped over his chest. Before he can move, you grab him by the root of the hair and yank his head back so you’ve forced him to look into your eyes. You have the cigar you stole in your mouth. Holding his head still, you lean forward and touch the tip of your cigar to his, lighting yours with an inhale. Then you exhale in his face.

Enraged, Crocodile grabs you by the neck and slams you into the floor. You grunt. He lifts and slams you again, then lifts you one more time, arm extending fast to harshly slam you into the wall. He follows swiftly, tightening his grip. He can’t kill you yet, not yet.

“I gotta say, Sir,” you say, a little strained, still smiling, “you seem to know exactly what I’m into.”

Crocodile brings his hook to your pretty face. Maybe he’ll give you another scar. Your eyes drop down to the sharp tip of his hook, then back up to his. You open your mouth, letting the cigar fall out. Then, slowly, keeping full eye contact, you lick along the hook.

Oh. You have a body mod there, too–a split tongue, each side curving around the hook and sliding up, their tips scraping the point of it. Caught off guard, Crocodile can only stare, feeling his blood surge and his pulse quicken. You smile knowingly.

“Everyone wants to know what it feels like.”

Another one of your tricks. He won’t fall for it, not when he literally has you in his clutches. Your Haki may be powerful, but you’ve made a mistake letting him make contact with you like this. He’ll simply dehydrate you, drawing out just enough moisture for you to cling to life, and will only grant you water when you tell him what he wants to know.

Crocodile focuses.

Nothing happens.

His brow furrows, gritting his teeth, and he focuses again. You stay utterly whole and perfect.

“Why isn’t it working?” you say. “Why won’t I shrivel up? Is that what you’re thinking? Maybe I just can’t stay dry when you play rough with me like this.”

“Once I have my funds back,” Crocodile hisses, “I’m going to kill you so slowly you’ll beg me for death.”

“Come on, Sir. If you’re so upset about the money, I could give it back. I don’t really need it,” you roll your eyes on the ‘really,’ “but I don’t intend on walking away empty-handed. You understand. Us cold-blooded types get what we want, right?”

“What is it you want, Thief?”

“I want you to think of more constructive ways to vent your frustrations.”

Crocodile’s about to stab your face when his hand starts burning where it’s made contact with your neck. Iron-hot, he can’t hold on and drops you. Thinking quickly, he follows it up by bringing a blade of sand down on you while you’re beneath him.

It all happens in a moment: You catch the sand blade. A searing, scorching heat runs through his arm. The sand instantly becomes glass.

Your fingers dig into the glass and shatter it one-handed, your predatory gaze reflected in the thousand falling pieces all around him.

He’s stunned. At that moment, you grab him by the shirt collar and pull him down to your level, close to your face.

“You know, baby crocodiles, before they grow into apex predators, are prey for pretty much everything,” you smile. “Birds, fish, wild pigs… Snakes…”

You throw him onto the ground, the rubble digging into his back, and straddle his chest.

“You may be a threat in Paradise,” you continue, “but you’d get eaten alive in the New World. That’s why you left, isn’t it? Couldn’t hold your own among monsters like Whitebeard.”

Whitebeard. Crocodile grimaces at the mention, still feeling the sting of that loss. You shake your head.

“Now now, don’t feel bad,” you say. “He got me too.” You point to your scar. “Crusty geezer almost took my damn eye out, but not before I robbed him. He’s gotten slow.”

Suddenly, he remembers where he’s seen your bracelet, recognizing it as one of Whitebeard’s rings, one he had gotten decked by in the past. You stole the ring right off Whitebeard’s finger. He stares at you, starting to become aware of the difference between the two of you.

“You can’t beat me in strength,” you say simply, “what will you do?”

You’re right–he can’t beat you in strength. But he didn’t become the Desert King by being the strongest one. No, it’s never been about brute force. Crocodile takes in your shining eyes, your harness and lace, the sultry words you’ve been dropping, connecting the dots.

Grabbing you by the harness, Crocodile pulls you down to him for a kiss, crashing his lips into yours. As he suspected, you immediately reciprocate, parting your lips and licking into his mouth. Your split tongue is a potent distraction, as is your little moan, riling him up more than he expects. Behind you, his unsheathed, poison hook is poised to sink into your neck. You smile against his lips.

A second later, you’ve snapped the hook off its base and stabbed it into his shoulder.

“Heh… Did you think I’d fall for that?” you purr, licking your lips.

“What do you really want?” Crocodile growls.

“You’re far too smart not to have picked up on that by now. Or do you need me to spell it out for you?” You pull the hook out of his shoulder and toss it over yours, licking the blood from your finger. “You want motives? I pick strong targets because I'm bored. Everything I do, I do to entertain myself. But stealing doesn’t meet every need... I’m certain a man of your status is not wanting for company. But I’ve found that monsters like us tend to only feel sated when we’re with other monsters. Catch my drift?”

“So you’re thrill-seeking,” Crocodile says slowly.

“Please. ‘Thrill’ implies my life is in danger. It is what I’m offering you, though,” you smile. “Not that you need to worry, Sir. I won’t hurt you…unless you ask me nicely.”

“You rob me, beat up my men, and you expect me to sleep with you?” he says, incredulous.

“Not for free. I have an offer to make.”

He’s insulted you’d consider him no better than a whore, and spits out his next words.

“I don’t negotiate with thieves.”

“Let’s cut the illusion of rank. Becoming king of this land won’t erase your pirate background. You’re every bit the conniving cheat that I am.” You laugh. “I’ll return your treasure regardless. Chump change like that is meaningless to me. After passing a certain point of wealth, you start dealing in favors instead. So here’s my offer to you: Entertain me for the night. Do a good job, and I’ll join your little syndicate for a while. My power at your whim to use. I’ll let you order me around…” you trail a finger down his chest, “and I’ll behave until the end of our contract, at which point, you’re free to try and kill me again.”

A demonstration, Crocodile realizes as you get off of him. That’s what this all was: a demonstration of power, all so you could get what you wanted.

“If you only wanted to sleep with me,” he says, getting to his feet, “you could have just asked.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” you chuckle. “Really, though. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have fought me. This wasn’t going to go anywhere until you understood the gulf that spans between us. Now, you know that when you shove me against a wall, it’s because I let you.”

You dust yourself off and stick your hands back in your pockets like nothing had happened, idly kicking a piece of rubble. Meanwhile, the gears are turning in Crocodile’s head. You defeated Mr. 1 in mere minutes, allegedly. You tossed his own self around like it was nothing, and made him look like a second-rate pirate, much less a king. You have both types of Haki and an unknown Devil Fruit… All in all, an invaluable asset to be under his control. He regards you coolly. You’re waiting patiently for his response.

“So what’ll it be?” you say, sensing he’s made a decision. “I get to have a little fun, you get your most powerful minion yet. We both win.”

“How long would you intend to work for me?” Crocodile asks.

“Depends on your performance,” you shrug. “Let’s start with a few months, and after that, well. If you make it worth sticking around…” your eyes half-lid, letting the implication hang. “Sound like a good deal to you?” You hold out your hand in offering. When Crocodile takes it, you give that predatory smile. “I look forward to working for you, Sir.”

“From now on, you’ll call me Mr. Zero,” he replies, then pauses. “...You can call me Sir in private.”

You grin. “Sorry about your smoking room. Really.”

“Nevermind that. I’ll have someone clean it up. More importantly,” Crocodile says, “what's your Devil Fruit? I’m ordering you to tell me.”

“I can amplify the force of friction,” you respond obediently. “I'm an abrasion human.”

“...You certainly are,” Crocodile says. “It suits you.”

“I think you’ll find, tonight, that it suits you too.” You smile, tugging on your harness lightly. “So, when do we start?”

Crocodile pins you to the wall.

You let him.

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cic1-12 · 5 months

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Hold Me. Down.

more sub!law is here per request! enjoy! ♡︎ (>ᴗ•) !

❤︎ trafalgar law x fem reader ❤︎

𖤐₊˚.༄ (nsfw, afab! reader, 18+ only) 𖤐₊˚.༄

cw: afab! reader, established relationship, very sub!law, softdom!reader, playful banter, teasing, bondage! (handcuffs), slight orgasm denial, edging, begging, pleasing, overstimulation, pet names (good boy), praise, oral (m recieving), oral (f recieving, face-riding), dick riding, unprotected sex, creampie, some aftercare

summary: reader is member of heart pirates, established relationship between reader and law, law is always dom, reader wants to switch things up in the bedroom, purchases seaprismstone handcuffs, law is submissive. yes, law is a whimperer! it's true!

word count: ~5,000 (oops)

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

Hold Me. Down.

Law was a predictable man. He liked things the way they were, and everyone aboard your submarine knew that, including you, his long-term girlfriend and crewmate. His lifestyle was monotonous, and your sex life filled the very same mold. Not that he was boring, oh no. He made your toes curl each and every time, and your moans and screams could constantly be heard ringing through the hallways of the Polar Tang as he rearranged your insides. Despite this, role reversal was quite infrequent, in fact, it was completely nonexistent. Law was a control freak, that was for damn sure, and each time the two of you engaged in intimacy, he always naturally fell into the role of the dominant. Understandably so, Law was hard-hearted in every sense of the word. He liked watching you come undone by each curl of his inked fingers and thrust of his strong hips. He found pleasure in watching your drooling mouth fall slack and your eyes roll back in your pretty skull as he railed you into the mattress.

You liked things the way they were, just like Law, but what had started as just a fleeting thought rattling around in your head, had slowly begun to make its way to the very front of your brain, burning into your skull, until you just couldn’t ignore it anymore.

You wanted to know what it would be like to dominate Trafalgar Law; to tie him down in your shared bed, to make him whimper and whine and beg for your touch, to ride him and milk his cock until he was a shaking, stuttering mess.

You knew deep down that this fantasy was nothing but that, an insatiable desire. But even still, you knew you’d regret it if you didn’t at least try.

Your crew had recently taken a quick stop at a nearby island to gather supplies for the submarine. Law stayed behind to catch up on work, per usual. You took this rare opportunity of alone time to make a few special stops. In fact, you took so much time trying to pick the perfect item, that you almost missed the last call to board the sub.

When you finally arrived back, you were surprised to see that your boyfriend had finally emerged from his dark den of an office and was now standing atop the sub, holding the railing with one hand, the other cupping his mouth to call out your name. When his eyes finally met your face as you ran to the sea, he sighed, placing an inked hand on his forehead and shaking his head. After frantically making your way up the stairs, you stood before your tall, lanky captain for a brief moment before your hands quickly found their way to your knees, hunched over and panting as you struggled to catch your breath.

“Jesus, woman,” his monotone voice began, “Where have you been? We were supposed to depart fifteen minutes ago.”

To you, and everyone else, fifteen minutes was nothing, but to this rigid, schedule-bound man, it was everything.

“I-I’m sorry,” you panted, finally rising from your hunched state to meet your boyfriend's gaze again, his eyes shooting daggers into your skin.

You felt your stomach knotting with guilt, you knew how much being on schedule meant to Law. Until you remembered exactly what you bought. All the commotion had made you forget, but once the memory solidified in your brain again, you felt the corners of your lips twitch into a naughty smirk.

Boldness suddenly struck you like a bat to your head; leaning forward, you grabbed the collar of Law’s shirt, pulling him down to meet your arrogant visage.

“Are you really complaining, Law~?” you purred in his ear, causing his skin to ignite with goosebumps at the seductive tone of your voice, “But you don't even know what’s coming to you,” you smirked, shaking the shopping bag in his face.

You felt heat growing within your core at your own tenacity, and at the way in which your boyfriend’ usually cold, stoic face now looked unbelievably hot and flustered.

“W-What are y-” Law began, stuttering over his words, but before he could finish, you had already planted a kiss on his reddened cheek, giggling knowingly as skipped off to your shared bedroom.

You sat on the bed, swinging your feet as they hung over the edge, patiently waiting for your boyfriend to burst through the door demanding to know what you had been on about earlier. You knew he’d come. Any second now. You had just finished setting everything up on the bed, silently apologizing to Law in your head. He made the bed perfectly every morning, with sheets crisply folded and pillows impeccably fluffed. He had a weird little rule about not messing up the bed during the day, until the two of you were ready to sleep, or have sex, of course, but with all your rustling around, the sheets were now a bit jumbled. You shook your head and silently laughed to yourself, you were dating quite the perfectionist.

And just as you had suspected, a loud bang rang through the walls of your room as Law made his way through the door.

“Y/n,” he began, grey eyes glued to you sternly, “What the hell were you-” his voice trailed off, eyes darting from your face, focusing on the object that lay behind you on the bed.

Satisfaction filled your veins as you noticed the blush that spread across Law’s once phlegmatic face, the redness making him look frazzled and bothered. You hummed in response, filling in the silence that Law had left hanging in the air when he cut himself off.

“Law,” you began, your voice a sultry whisper, “Why don’t you take off that shirt and lay down for me~?”

You watched on as your boyfriend’s lanky form twitched in response, his eyes never leaving the familiar sight of the seastone handcuffs before him.

Your boyfriend’s devil fruit ability was nothing short of spectacular, that was for damn sure. Law was an impeccibly intelligent, powerful man, with abilities unfathomable to any ordinary person. His smarts, coupled with his devil fruit, granted him the power to perform miracles. However, like all blessings in life, it came with both downsides and limitations. For example, he couldn’t swim, and anything pertaining to sea water was a no-go. Hence, your decision to purchase handcuffs made out of sea prism stone. Not only would Law be handcuffed, but the seastone would leave him completely powerless, at your mercy.

Despite his flustered state rendering him essentially immobile, Law gripped the hem of his shirt within his inked fingers and pulled the article of clothing off over his head, revealing his toned abdomen and inked chest to you. You had seen him this way a million times, but his divine body never failed to impress you. You bit your lip at the sight as he shuffled his way over to the bed to sit beside you, just as he was told. His unwavering compliance instantly made the heat within your core begin to boil.

Reaching forward, you placed a delicate hand on the back of your boyfriend’s head, pulling him in forcefully and pressing your desperate lips against his. He groaned into your mouth at the sudden action, immediately licking along your wet lips, begging for entry. Instead, you opted for biting his bottom lip and tugging on it playfully, not wanting to grant him what he desired. Tonight, you were in charge.

“Y/n~” he groaned your name, his voice agonizingly desperate.

The two of you continued to passionately kiss, chests heaving as you struggled to catch your breaths.

Law began to move a strong hand along your side, up to your breast, preparing to grip it tightly mold it between his fingers like he always did.

This time would be different. You immediately grabbed his wrist and forced in down, now positioning it atop the tight tent growing in his jeans.

"Oh, my," you purred teasingly, "You're this hard for me already?"

“Ughhh..” he groaned at the sensation of his aching erection finally being stimulated, sucking in a breath of air through his teeth.

You continued to press down on his hand, forcing him to palm his own erection through his jeans. He continued to groan, opting to begin bucking his hips against his hand to increase the friction.

In an instant, you moved your free hand down to grip his hip, halting his thrusts, making his breath hitch in his throat,

“N-Nghhh…”

You pulled back, separating your lips, a string of connecting saliva falling from them as you moved apart,

“I don’t believe I gave you permission to do that, Law,” you purred, removing his hand from his crotch and forcing it above his head, pinning him down.

You quickly followed in suit with his other wrist, now pinning them both above his head before moving atop him and straddling his waist.

He blushed deeply at your boldness before throwing his head back and moaning at the sensation of your clothed cunt now pressing against the tent in his pants.

Law was a strong man, and you were so much smaller than him. Both of you knew that he could easily overpower you if he wanted to, easily return to his comfortable, seasoned role of the dominant partner.

But he didn’t.

He stayed beneath you, letting you do whatever you wanted to him and his body. This realization gave you all the confidence you needed to continue pursuing your little plan.

“Y/n…” he whimpered, instinctively thrusting his hips upwards to reward his cock with more friction against your core.

You clicked your tongue, staring down at your boyfriend’s red face beneath you, “You’re stubborn, aren’t you, Law?” you asked smugly, the corners of your lips tugging upwards into a tight smirk.

You didn’t think his face could get any redder, but at this, you swore you saw his cheeks gain an even darker rouge as he whined beneath you. “M-Mhmm,” he whimpered, admitting defeat, “I’m stubborn, y/n.”

His blushing face and sweet noises were too damn much for you, and you almost lost your composure, just wanting to give in and give him what he ached for, but that was too easy, you wanted to press him harder.

You leaned down, rewarding him with a wet kiss on his neck. You felt his back arch beneath you, his body shaking at the sensation.

“F-Fuckk…” he groaned, leaning his head back to give you more access to his sensitive throat. Your soft tongue continued its dirty work, trailing down his neck, earning more delicious moans from his inked chest. You continued to grip his wrists tight, pressing them into the mattress.

He squirmed beneath you as you continued licking and nibbling your way down, now at his collarbones. You felt him shake beneath you as you had finally reached his most sensitive sweet spot. You smirked at his reaction, continuing to glide your skillful tongue along the bones, “I know, baby,” you purred, “You’re quite sensitive there, aren't you~?”

"M-mhm..." Law only whimpered in response, his body trembling, completely powerless to you and your wicked touch.

You continued your pursuit, leaving love bites in your wake, marking him as yours.

“You see that, sweetheart?” you inquired, voice ridden with lust and smugness, “You’re all mine, and everyone can see it.”

You watched as Law bit his bottom lip, eyes darting back and forth between the fresh hickeys that now decorated his sculpted body, “G-Good,” he croaked, voice shaky, “I-I’m all y-yours, y/n.”

You smirked down at him, satisfied with his submissive response, “Good boy, Law,” you purred.

“Sh-Shit,” he cursed, groaning in response to the new title, rolling his hips upwards to meet your heat.

“Mmm,” you hummed, smiling up at him as you continued making your way down his body, finally rewarding him with a kiss on his clothed cock.

“F-Fuck-!” he groaned, jutting his hips upward again, desperate for more.

You instantly grabbed his hips and pushed them down, stalling his movements, “Stay still, Law, or I'll go even slower,” you challenged, your voice tinted with something he’d never heard from you before.

He bit his lip and nodded feverishly, eyes wide and lust-blown, now understanding the severity of the threat.

You planted a few more sloppy kisses to his bulge before starting to undo his pants, working agonizingly slow at the button and zipper, making Law whine in frustration,

“Y/n,” he whined, “Fuck, please-”

At this, you removed your hands from his crotch, now passing the time by fiddling with his happy trail, teasing him to the point of no return.

Law withdrew his hands from the position they were in above his head, he was willing to comply, but not anymore, reaching down on his own to finally undo his zipper and free his aching cock.

Before he could get far, you grabbed his wrists again, gripping them tightly together in your hands, “Did you really think that would work, sweetheart?” you taunted, “Seems like you’ve left me no choice, Law.” you tsked and shook your head mockingly, turning around to retrieve a pair of keys from your nightstand.

Your boyfriend’s adam’s apple bobbed beneath the skin of his throat as he gulped, anxiously watching your every move.

“Hold your arms above your head, Law,” you instructed, motioning for him to do as he was told.

And he complies, a dark blush dusting his cheeks as he stares up at you and holds his wrists above his head again.

Above him, you leaned forward to unlock the seastone handcuffs, grabbing his hands and placing a wrist in each one before snapping them shut, making your boyfriend gasp slightly at the new sensation.

In an instant, he felt like a puddle of mush beneath you. The vitality that once coursed through his veins like a lively current dissipated as soon as the stone was shackled to his skin.

Mustering his strength, Law threw his head back and groaned, the severity of his predicament hitting him like a tidal wave,

“Y/N,” he groaned, his voice ridden with fatigue, “A-Are these r-really…?”

“Seastone?” you filled in the gap for him, smirking as you gazed down upon his situation: wrists shackled to the bedframe, sweat-coated tattooed chest and abs rising and falling with each labored breath, eyes lidded and weary.

“Y-You devil,” he croaked, smirking.

Much to his surprise, you rewarded his struggles by quickly removing both his jeans and briefs with one strong tug, freeing his aching cock from its confinement.

His long member slapped against his abdomen as it sprung free, causing Law to throw his head back again and groan loudly, sucking in a labored breath through his teeth, hissing at the abrupt sensation.

“Fuck, woman,” he groaned, "L-Look what you've done to me."

You giggled softly and moved down, looking up at the shackled man as you satisfied his aching by licking a long stripe along the veiny underside of his throbbing cock.

“O-Oh, fuck-!” he whined, squirming beneath you, unable to move much due to his confinement.

“I-I don't know if it was just f-from all the teasing or the cuffs, but that felt t-ten times more intense than usual,” he croaked breathlessly.

“Mmmm, I’m glad to hear that, Law,” you smirked, granting him another lick, this time all the way up to his tip, which was flushed an angry red-pink color and weeping with precum.

“Sh-Shit,” Law cursed, tears pricking in the corners of his eyes as your tongue lapped at his overly sensitive head.

“You always taste so good, baby~” you praised, opening your wet lips to take him fully into your mouth.

Law threw his head back again, writhing with pleasure beneath you, the chains of the handcuffs clanking with his rapid movements.

“A-Ahh, fuck-!” he cried, bucking his hips unintentionally, forcing his cock further into your mouth.

Instead of scolding him, you decided to play nice and force yourself further down, until the blunt tip of his cock kissed the back of your throat and your nose met his pubic bone.

You moaned around his length, he was so big and he stuffed your throat so damn full. You gagged around him as you began to bob your head, drool spilling from your stuffed mouth and tears falling from your eyes as you took on his massive length. You wanted to tap out, nearly choking yourself to death on his cock, but the sounds leaving Law’s mouth were too fucking delectable.

He whimpered and whined at your actions, louder than ever before. He shook beneath you each time you took him in, crying out your name at each pass.

“Y/n, y/n, y/n, y/n, y/n…!” he whined your name like a fucking prayer as you sucked the life out of him, eventually starting to thrust into your throat, desperately chasing his release, the chains of his confinements rattling as he did so.

“M-Mmmm! Mm! Mmmm!” you whined around him in between each thrust, sending vibrations through his exhausted body as he fucked your throat.

“F-Fuck-! I’m so close!” he cried, his thrusts now becoming frantic and sloppy.

At this confession, you pulled off on him, his painfully hard cock popping from your mouth with a lewd noise.

You had never edged him before, and the new sensation made Law writhe beneath you, tears spilling down his cheeks as he looked up at you, face red, sweaty, and desperate.

“Y/n…” he cried, “W-Why? O-Oh my god I was so close, y/n, why?” he pleaded with you, abandoning all of his remaining dignity, his eyes big and unapologetically needy.

“Because,” you began, wiping the drool from your chin as you smirked down at him, “Now, it’s my turn.”

Law’s deep grey eyes grew even larger at your reasoning, his face turning a deeper red as you made your way up to him, slowly removing your clothes,

He bit his lip as he watched you remove your shirt and bra, the perfect, perky tits that he loved so much bouncing free to greet his gaze. You slowly removed your bottoms and underwear, throwing them aside, your pussy glistening with your wetness.

You slowly inched forward and straddled Law’s face, looking down at him.

“You ready?” you questioned, blush decorating your cheeks.

You two had never done this before, but Law got the message loud and clear.

He nodded feverishly, desperate to taste your sweet, dripping pussy on his hot tongue.

“Sit on my face, y/n.”

And so, with his desperate request, you slowly began to sink down onto Law’s awaiting mouth, throwing your head back and gasping loudly when his hot, wet tongue finally met your slippery folds.

“Fuck-!” you cried, your hands instantly finding their way into Law’s thick skull of dark, messy hair. You gripped the strands tightly between your fingertips as you began to move your hips, unapologetically riding his face with all of your might, letting out sweet, euphoric moans as his skillful tongue slid in and out of your folds, dancing along your clit with each rock of your hips.

You ground yourself against him, pressing his tongue harder into your cunt as you moved back and forth, humping his face, wettening his chin.

“M-mmm, y/n…” he groaned into your pussy, “You taste so fucking good.”

“O-Oh, Law!” you cried, your grip tightening on his hair as the rocking of your hips grew sloppy, just desperate for more and more friction from your captain’s hot tongue on your aching clit. Stars danced beneath your eyelids as you felt your orgasm threatening its approach.

The band within your stomach tightened, ready to snap, but you didn’t want to cum, not yet. You wanted to edge yourself just as you had edged Law.

You removed yourself from his face, legs shaking from pleasure. You looked down at Law, and damn, it was a sight to behold; his face was glistening with your wetness, his tongue hanging from his mouth as he struggled to catch his breath, tattooed chest rising and falling frantically. You had nearly suffocated him as a result of your intense humping, but he didn’t care, he just wanted you, more of you.

Before he could catch his racing mind and frantic breath, you had already repositioned yourself atop him again, but this time, you were straddling his hips, his rock-hard, throbbing cock dangerously close to your dripping slit.

“Are you ready for me, Law? Will you be good for me?” you inquired, your smug gaze never leaving his needy one.

“Please, y/n,” he begged, voice ridden with desperation, “I’ll be such a good boy for you,” he blushed deeply at his own words, having never spoken like this before, “P-Please just let me fuck you.”

This desperate plea was all you needed, fuck, it was more than you needed. When you started this, you had no idea Law would get to this level. You thought maybe, perhaps, he’d beg a little, let you hold him down, but this, what was happening now, even exceeded your wildest of fantasies.

You moaned softly as you took Law’s long, slender cock in your hand, rubbing his weeping tip back and forth against your soaking slit, teasing him one last time.

“N-Nghhhh, f-fuck,” he groaned, eyebrows knitted together, eyes shut tightly as his strong body spasmed beneath you.

“Please,” he cried.

And with that, you plunged yourself down, forcing Law’s desperate cock into your pussy with one go, causing you both to throw your heads back and call out one another’s names.

“L-Law-!”

“Y/N-!”

You sat still for a moment, waiting to adjust to the intense stretch, Law’s cock throbbing within you as your tight walls engulfed it fully.

After taking a second to collect yourself, you began bouncing, your boyfriend’s chains rattling as you did so, fucking yourself so damn good with his cock.

“M-mmm!” you moaned shakily, bouncing up and down, forcing him as deep as he could go, causing him to groan and cry beneath you.

“Sh-Shit, y/n!" he cried, hips starting to thrust to meet yours.

You placed your hands on his decorated chest, forcing yourself up and down even harder, the sounds of wet skin slapping together filling the room.

“A-Ah, Law-!” you cried, “You’re doing so good for me, baby~!” you praised.

You looked down at him as you rode him roughly, wrists shakled above his head, chest rising and falling beneath your hands, hips sloppily thrusting into you from underneath, whimpering and groaning your name.

“Y-You feel-n-nghh, so good, y/n!”, he groaned, stumbling on his words in between moans, “Y-You’re-f-fuck-you’re squeezing me so tight-!” he cried for you.

You could feel Law’s big length reshaping your inner walls, throbbing within you as it stretched out your insides.

With each thrust, his blunt tip kissed your cervix, causing you to shake and sob at the intense pleasure. And at the same time, each pass caused his pubic bone to brush against your swollen clit, irrevocably overstimulating your body.

You were lost in your own pleasure, hips still rocking back and forth as you bounced on your boyfriend’s cock, when his desperate voice broke you from your trance.

“Y/n,” he began, shakily, still thrusting up into your tightness and warmth, “I-I’ve been trying to h-hold it, b-but I can’t -f-fuck- I can’t anymore,” he cried helplessly, “C-Can I cum, y/n?” tears spilled down his pretty face as he begged for your permission to orgasm.

Your eyes widened as you continued to bounce and grind messily on his pulsating cock.

Trafalgar Law… begging to cum? Couldn’t be.

“Please, y/n…” he groaned again, “I-I’m so close-mmnnngg- I-I can’t take it anymore-!” His head was thrown back, throat exposed, those beautiful grey eyes shut tightly as his mouth hung open, chains rattling around his wrists as you rode him.

“Cum for me, Law~” you leaned down, purring in his ear, still moving your hips rapidly, his throbbing cock destroying your inner walls.

“F-Fuck, Th-Thank you, y/n-! mm! th-thank you-!” he threw his head back again, thanking you for finally giving him the permission he so desperately needed to cum inside you. Law’s body shook as he orgasmed, chains rattling, he thrust into you needily and sloppily a few more times before spilling inside you, painting your insides white with his hot, thick ropes of cum.

“A-Ahgg-Fuck-!” he groaned as he came, louder than he ever had before, nearly making the walls vibrate.

You weren’t far behind, frantically grinding your hips on his cock, begging for more stimulation. His cum acted as lube and you fucked him through his own orgasm, overstimulating him as you chased your own.

With one last harsh brush of his tip to your g-spot, you came undone, gushing intensely onto his exhausted cock.

“L-Law-!" you cried his name as you came, your desperate bouncing finally slowing then stalling before you collapsed onto his heaving chest.

The two of you breathed as one, frantically trying to catch your breaths.

“I-I…” Law’s deep voice began, shaky and riddled with pure and utter exhaustion, “I want to hold you but I…” he shook his tattooed arms, rattling his chains so you’d get the picture.

“A-Ah, shit,” you giggled tiredly, hopping off of him to set him free.

You frantically dug in the nightstand, “Fuck, Law, I can’t find the key-!” you turned to him, face decorated with mock concern.

You watched as his face fell as he grew pale, clearly panicking.

“A-Are you serious?” he exclaimed, not even trying to hide his distress.

“Nah, I’ve got it right here,” you giggled, flashing him the shiny silver key between your fingertips.

“You devil,” he parroted his statement from before, rolling his eyes and chuckling softly to himself.

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

thank you so much for the request-! (>ᴗ•)

i had so much (too much) fun writing this! ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚

i adore the concept of such a hard-hearted man being submissive.

(˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)₊˚⊹♡

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