꒰ synopsis ꒱ : law always knows how to calm your mind during times of distress.
꒰ contents ꒱ : MDNI . Trafalgar Law x reader ; reader has an oral fixation so finger sucking, thigh riding, brief mention of saliva, praise WC : 1.3k
“Enough.” Law commands, his arm reaches out to pull you closer by the waist and brings you onto his lap. One of his hands rests securely on your hip, keeping you in place as you straddle him. “Come here.”
The tower of paperwork he was sifting through sits idly on top of his desk, lain forgotten and left askew as soon as you had burst through the door of his private office.
It wasn’t abnormal for you to drop by throughout the day or even during the wee hours of the many nights he’d stay up far too late, but the sense of urgency had him turning his head in your direction.
The Heart Pirates captain could feel his stomach plummet, turn over in torment as soon as he took in your slightly disheveled appearance.
How your pretty eyes were filled to the brim with crystalline tears that coat your lashes like dewdrops paired with your lower, slightly bitten lip that was quivering enough to slice through the strings that held his heart upright was enough to have him sitting up straight.
Whatever had happened had left your mind in shambles, something he couldn’t whisk away with the simple wave of his hand.
Unlike his desk, he can’t neatly rearrange everything and make it like new again — no, comforting you was much more complex and a task he would never treat so lightly.
If he could, he’d reach into your troubled mind and cut down every negative thought that tormented your pretty head, leaving you only with happy memories and dreamy visions of him.
He may be a skilled doctor but he knows there’s not always a way for him to snap his fingers and take all of that away. But at least he was exceptionally well versed when it came to reading you and knowing exactly what kind of things that would help center you. All you need is something to focus on.
So, he improvises.
“Open.” His tattooed ring finger softly taps against your cheek. Once, twice, before you oblige. Your mental state was far too frazzled to oppose anything, especially with his piercing golden eyes set on you, set alight with concern and a hint of unyielding tenderness. “Good, very good.”
Careful as to not startle you, his hand slowly crawls into focus, the black ink that stretches along his skin comes closer as his fingers brush along your lips. The one decorated with an ‘E’ slips into your awaiting mouth, giving you a little nod that tells you to close it.
Plush lips wrap around the digit almost immediately. Law had to choke back a groan at the sight and accompanying sensation, your obedience stroking his ego to life and his unbridled want for you.
“Suck.” Again, you don’t fight him on this. Instead, you suck on his finger as if it was his cock, your mind growing hazier by the second by the familiarity of something being in your mouth. Law smirks a little, subtle smugness swirling with pride drenches his features and emboldens him to tuck another into your mouth — the ‘A’ this time. “Good job, keep going.”
The weight of the rings he wears sits on your tongue and coats it in something metallic. Curiously, you experimentally roll it over the gunmetal bands, slipping through both of the fingers that are poking and prodding through your mouth.
Law knew that you had an oral fixation and scoffed anytime you tried to deny it. Times like these only further proved his point but he was far too enchanted to start saying ‘I told you so’ right now. Not when he had more productive things to do.
“Wanna take another for me?” His voice was low, smooth as he drank in the sight before him — the way you eagerly swallow down his fingers, resting your hands on the expanse of his exposed chest and slowly begin to grind in his lap was causing heat to pool in his gut.
It was almost too easy.
Once you nod your head yes, he slips in the last one — ‘T’ and marvels at the way your tongue instinctually swirls around his thick digits. The hand that idly rests on your hips twitches before he guides you along his lap, letting your mind fog over with desire and pleasure to combat all of your sadness and anxiety away.
But as soon as you pitifully whine against his fingers with wide, glassy eyes pleading for more, he’s filled with the primal urge to see you come apart for him. To shed tears not from heartache and disappointment but from how good he can make you feel with a few pointed touches.
Quickly adjusting the way you’re sitting on him, he nudges you over to his thigh, tensing the muscle and beginning to drag your clothed cunt against it.
The reaction is immediate, your eyes flutter shut as you take in his fingers even deeper with a wanton moan. Saliva pools in the corners of your mouth as Law begins to greedily thrust his fingers into it, overcome with how much he’s rendered you thoughtless.
The strain of his hardening cock presses against the tight jeans he mistakenly wore, pulsing in retaliation at the restrictive fabric and throbbing with the utter need to sink himself inside of you.
But he was a patient man and you always came first.
“That's it, just like that. I’ve got you.” He coos at you, his velvety voice washing over you. The sweet, muffled sounds that try to slip past your lips were caught by his fingers as he helps your hips move along faster, steering you directly towards your impending high. “Let yourself go for me.”
The tone indicated it was an order, one that you would never disobey. Whenever he lets you finish, you’ve learned to take it and run, letting the ecstasy course throughout your body and fry all your nerves so he could rewire your brain to only focus on how good you feel.
Law basks in his own satisfaction as your legs begin to tremble, hips stuttering while you desperately chase the friction on his jeans. Your nails dig into his skin, unabashed whimpers and whines swirl around his fingers as he brazenly presses down on your tongue.
The final push over the edge was him shoving his digits further down your throat, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you finished right there and then with a muffled cry of his name.
Tremors of your climax roll over your body, wiping your mind clean of anything that plagued it earlier. With a satisfied smirk, Law pulls his hands from your mouth and coaxes your head down to rest against his now slightly scratched chest.
“There, better?” He asks as if he didn’t know the answer. His inked hand rests lightly on the back of your head to ensure you stay with him.
“Yes.” You nod, wrapping yourself around his body feeling fully satiated and liberated from the confines of your own mind.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” His voice was a little softer now, the welcomed gentleness easing more of the weight off of your slumped shoulders.
“No.” You say with a small shake of your head and an equally quiet tone. “Not yet. Can we just stay like this for a little longer?”
Law hums in understanding, not missing a beat as his lips brush along the temple of your head before sliding his hand down to flatten against your back.
He runs the palm down your spine in a soothing manner before quietly spelling out undecipherable adorations with the simple traces of his finger pads, repeating the comforting motion over and over again until you can make out exactly what he’s trying to say.
The words neither of you had said to each other yet but could both feel it course through your veins as your hearts beat as one.
Summary: Thirteen missed calls and twenty unread text messages. Not even Mephisto could track you. “You’re really starting to worry me here, kitten.” Sylus pressed the phone to his ear, eyes glued to Mephisto’s live feed as he soared through the N109 Zone’s darkest alleys, “If it was something I did, let me make it up to you.”
Tags: Sylus/Reader, gender-neutral, slight angst, hurt/comfort, reader is mc, established relationship
Word Count: 1.8k
A/N: requested by @hrts4hanniehae
read on ao3 | masterlist
Crystal clinked loudly against a mahogany table as Sylus put the empty glass down with a seething glare. He would’ve slammed it were it not for your sleeping form just several feet away, however. Your chest rose and fell under his satin sheets, and he counted each breath like a rosary bead; you’re fine, you’re fine, you’re fine. He unstopped a priceless bottle of whiskey and poured himself another drink, but the tremor in his hand sloshed amber liquid over the sides. Sylus huffed but didn’t bother wiping up the mess. Instead, he downed the whiskey in one go and squeezed his tired eyes shut. The burn was nothing compared to the chill down his spine when he found you.
Thirteen missed calls and twenty unread text messages. Not even Mephisto could track you. “You’re really starting to worry me here, kitten.” Sylus pressed the phone to his ear, eyes glued to Mephisto’s live feed as he soared through the N109 Zone’s darkest alleys, “If it was something I did, let me make it up to you.” The begging in his voice grew more obvious as the voicemails went on, “—Please. Just let me know you’re okay.” Sylus drew closer to the hologram, helpless, as Mephisto investigated another possible location, “I can’t…” Another dead end. The mechanical crow cooed softly before swooping into another street, and Sylus heard his voice catch in his throat, “...I can’t feel you anymore.”
Beep. The call ended, leaving a loaded silence in its wake.
He considered leaving yet another voicemail when Mephisto turned a sharp corner and pointed his eyes at a dark figure slumped against a wall. No, no, no. His worst fears were realized when the crow perched himself on your knee and cawed loudly, as if scolding you for causing so much trouble. Then his lens panned over the blood. So much blood. Sylus couldn’t recall the ride there, which car he took, how fast he was going. Trivial details, to be frank. Your name was the only thought in his mind, the only language he understood—you, you, you. Sense returned to him when he clutched your limp body in his tight embrace, and you groaned weakly in his arms. “I’m here,” Sylus sighed against your ear, “Always here.”
The sheets of his bed rustled as you shifted your weight, and Sylus shot you a look. “Sylus,” You called weakly, and winced as you sat up.
“Don’t lean on your arm.” Despite your discomfort, his narrowed gaze remained fixed on the empty glass in his hand. He made no move to approach you, “You’ll disturb the bandages.” Out of the corner of his eye, he watched you take note of the gauze wrapped around your bicep. The bleeding stopped a while ago. “That wanderer missed your artery by a hair,” Sylus drawled, and your confused gaze met his cold look, “Your luck never ceases to amaze me.” Then he stood, your confusion morphing into panic, “Let Mephisto know if you need anything.”
“Sylus, wait—” You outstretched your hand, the bandaged one, and immediately hissed in pain. Sylus froze, but like before, remained where he stood, “How long have I been out?”
His lip twitched. “Three hours now,” A beat, then he was reaching into his pocket, “Here.” Your phone bounced against the mattress at your feet, and Sylus watched you pick up the shattered screen. Wincing, you turned it on, and he quietly studied your distress.
“I’m sorry,” You began softly, but Sylus forced his eyes to the floor. He couldn’t stand the guilt in your eyes, “I got so caught up I didn’t—”
His raised hand cut you short, “Don’t.” And he turned away sharply, “Just focus on resting.” The lump in his throat was difficult to swallow around, so he grabbed the leftover whiskey and rushed out.
Cooling down with some vinyl records had been his first instinct. Dusting them off, running his fingers over the plastic covers, then finally settling on just one. Fretting over their display was a nervous habit of his, his go-to when he needed a distraction. But it proved too difficult to position the needle correctly with trembling hands, and Sylus watched the needle stutter over the grooves with a grimace. Instrumentals kicked in over the stereo quietly, but it still wasn’t enough to drown out his swirling thoughts. He should be with you right now. Tending to your every need and shushing you gently to get some rest. Instead, he hid away with his records, inhaling and exhaling to relax the tight ball in his chest. You’re fine, you’re fine, you’re fine.
He repeated this useless prayer to himself to prevent other thoughts—darker thoughts—from bubbling up. It didn’t work, though. “Sylus?” His eyes widened at the sound of your voice, before they suddenly narrowed in suspicion. As if on cue, Mephisto breezed to his perch in the corner of the room, and Sylus shot the crow a withering glare. So much for keeping you away from him, damn bird. Mephisto only pricked his feathers innocently in response. Your bare feet then padded across the room, but Sylus refused to turn around. You shouldn’t have to see him like this. “Sylus, would you please look at me?” You insisted again, stronger this time, “Are you angry?”
Usually, he craved your bluntness. Right now, he resented it. “I should have locked him in his cage.” Your steps drew closer, and Sylus concentrated on the spinning vinyl.
Your tired sigh gripped his heart. “I heard your voicemails,” You announced quietly, “It’s…It’s okay if you are. You have every right to be.”
It’s just so like you to put his feelings first. As if he had been the one bleeding in an alley for hours. Sylus pinched the bridge of his nose, “And if I was?” He turned to face you, finally, and noted the half-step you took back. Sylus couldn’t help the scowl that tugged at his lips, “Why aren’t you?”
You frowned at him and rubbed your arm distractedly. “I…feel bad for making you worry. I’m sorry, and I totally understand where you’re coming from.” You then tugged nervously at your clothes, avoiding his sharp gaze, “I would be angry with me too, believe me. Especially after I said I’d be more—”
Sylus couldn’t help it, a humorless laugh erupted from his bitten lips. You only stared in bewilderment as he raised a hand to cover his mouth, “Angry at you…?” He shook his head as another wave of trepidation passed through him, “You misunderstand,” Then his voice fell ominously low, “I’m not angry at you.”
Surprise gripped your expression, “I don’t understand, then. Why are you angry?”
“Why?” It was Sylus’ turn to give you a bewildered look, “Why?” The answer was so obvious, he almost felt ridiculous spelling it out for you. Through gritted teeth, he tried anyway, “Because I failed to protect you, that’s why.” That lump in his throat returned, so he promptly shut up. His words clung to the air for several moments, but he didn’t dare take his eyes off you now. A flurry of emotions overwhelmed you; perhaps you were realizing that, yes, he did fail you tonight. That realization never quite reached your eyes, though. Instead, you slowly shook your head before falling back to get comfortable on his couch.
“Come sit with me.” You patted the area next to you and watched him expectantly. Sylus stared. You always did find new ways to surprise him, somehow. He fought three wars in his head—before losing them all—and hesitantly took his place by your side. The big, bad Onychinus leader avoided your soft gaze. “What happened tonight, neither of us is to blame.” Your voice fell hush, and he didn’t need to look at you to know you saw right through him, “You can be angry, but please don’t hold a grudge.” You scooted yourself closer to take his hand in yours, and his eyes numbly flicked to your linked fingers.
“If Mephisto hadn’t found you…I didn’t know what to think.” His voice trailed off, and he swallowed thickly, “Your aether core. I couldn’t feel it.” His thumb caressed yours gently, “Fear like that isn’t easy to forget.”
Guilt brimmed in your eyes again, and he wished he hadn’t said anything. “You found me,” You began fiercely, “And I’m okay now, thanks to you. Because of you. You could never fail me.” Your words only deepened his scowl. It should never have gotten to that point in the first place. You should never have been in that position—alone. Your interlocked hands tightened, “Sylus…” Your murmur, spoken like a wish, was accompanied by a sudden warmth between your palms. He inhaled sharply as he watched your hands glow, evols linking as you resonated with his. The feeling was difficult to explain. Resonating with you blanketed him in a warmth like no other, like he was morning dew glowing under the rising sun. Like it was the first and last time he’d ever feel sunlight. You were alive. You were well. And if you harbored any ill will toward him, then resonating wouldn’t have come so naturally to you. He’s glad it did.
The resonance ended all too soon, however, and the light of your evols dimmed to nothing. Sylus’ record played softly in the silence. “Thank you,” He murmured at last, feeling calm for the first time that evening, “...And I’m sorry.” You made it difficult to stay upset. You had no idea how much power you held over him—over his mind and body alike—how easily you could mold him like putty in your precious hands. Right now, though, you guided those precious hands to his chin and looked him over properly. The dark circles, the disheveled hair, the cracked lips; you drank all of it in and let worry settle in the crease of your brow. He hid his embarrassment behind wisecracks, “Like what you see? A picture might last longer.”
You shot him a look, “You should take a shower, you’ll feel better.” Your expression then softened, and your thumb caressed the side of his smirking mouth, “But hurry, so you can join me in bed.”
He swore he felt traces of your evol smoldering within him, “Easy, kitten, you’re still recovering.”
Amusement sparkled in his ruby eyes when you abruptly pulled away, flustered, “You know what I meant!” Tsk, it was too easy sometimes. Sylus tried and failed to hide his smile before unexpectedly lifting you off the couch, “Sylus—”
“I’ve got you—yes, I do, now stop squirming,” Hanging on with your good arm, Sylus held you tighter than he’d ever done before. Letting you down would never be an option again. “Save the struggling for later, sweetie.” You merely huffed and settled into his secure embrace, but your free hand clutched his shirt just as tightly. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
You are a young woman (23 years old) born on a mysterious island called Tanata. Most people think that your civilization belongs to the ancient times... Only a few know that your city still exists.
You long for the meaning of life and one fateful day, everything changed for you when you met the Straw Hat Pirates and the Heart Pirates.
The civilization is based on ancient Greece in terms of clothing/architecture/culture
Generally:
This is my first story in years, I hope you like it sweeties <3
The story takes place just before the time skip. A few things don't match in terms of time and content. Sooooo, please don't hold that against me, but that's my fantasy and I hope you enjoy it as much as I do. ^////^
Also, in this One Piece story, neither Luffy nor the Straw Hats are the main characters / heroes. It's mostly about the successes and deeds of the Heart Pirates and the fate of the reader.
Additionally, the Straw Hats were not separated on Sabaody. They all fought in the decisive battle, were rescued by the Heart Pirates and ended up on a lost island.
Warnings: A few chapters have adult content 🔞
- NFSW | Smut | MDNI | 18+
Trafalgar D. Water Law ✘ ♀ Reader
Slow burn with plot <3
Long fic
Spoiler (will be mentioned in Chapter)
Mature content
Chapters ☟
Chapter 1 - Danger at a depth of almost 1000 meters
The world could burn a thousand times over, crumble into ash and dust, and still—he would find you.
He always... did.
Sylus stood there, his crimson gaze fixed on you as the moment stretched, infinite and unbroken. The air around him stilled, heavy with the weight of something eternal. It wasn't the first time he'd felt this way, this bone-deep certainty that, no matter the life, no matter the place, he'd always find you. He didn’t know how he knew it—perhaps it was fate, or maybe it was the cruel trick of the universe—but it was undeniable.
You turned your head, your laughter like a melody woven through the air, and for the briefest second, he forgot to breathe. It wasn’t just your smile, your eyes, or the sound of your voice. It was you—something more profound, something that reached into him and bound him in ways that defied reason.
"I’d do anything for you"
That thought wasn’t new, but tonight, it gripped him harder, sinking its claws into his soul. Even if the world tore him apart, scattered his existence across endless lifetimes, Sylus knew one thing with certainty: he would always find a way back to you. To protect you. To love you. To make the world kneel at your feet if that’s what it took to keep you safe.
His lips parted, a breathless whisper tumbling out into the space between you.
"No matter where, no matter when… I’d destroy the world a thousand times if it meant finding you again."
Stumbled upon a secret mushroom haven inside a tree hollow—nature’s tiny treasures thriving in the shadows. It’s like peeking into a fairy’s hideout in the woods, isn’t it?
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