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Summary: Slapping the God of Mischief brings out the worst in you...
Pairing: Loki x reader
Word Count: 5.3k
Rating: Explicit [Minors DO NOT INTERACT]
Warnings: teasing, cussing, oral, smut, finger sucking, Loki talking you through it, dirty smutty filthy Loki thoughts I had stashed away in the drafts
A/n: Hiiii! I’m cleaning out my drafts and stumbled upon this one. Do I hoard Loki fic because I get scared to post them? Maybe…🤭😝 Anyway, enjoy my 1 in the morning writing delusion.
📗
Your hand stings at the side of your leg as you look into those cavernous, blue eyes. You keep his eye contact as he stares you down like some animal ready to attack. You just slapped a god straight in the face without any provocation. But he fucking deserved it. He held all of New York City captive with an alien army and nearly succeeded in becoming a tyrant.
Thanks to the Avengers, that did not become the fate he was hoping for. Instead, he’s on Asgard shackled in chains, waiting to go to his prison cell where you truly hope he shrivels up and suffers. God that pompous look he gave you when you instantly recognized him standing next to Thor. He was expecting some excitement or praise that you’re in the presence of a god. That was not it. It was instant rage and disgust to see the man with your own eyes. You’ve never felt such strong feelings in your life.
So without an ounce of hesitation, you slapped him right on the face.
“That’s for New York,” you scowl.
The most devious, arrogant smirk forms on his face as he looks to Thor, “oh, I like her.”
That makes your blood boil more. Thor can see it on your face so he gently pulls you away from his brother. They take Loki away and he looks over his shoulder at you with the same smug look.
Throughout the day, you get shown around the palace and it’s just wonderful. You get changed into the most beautiful dress that drapes across your body like fog in the night . You enjoy the dinner they present you with and are very grateful you’re here. But that wicked grin still makes your skin crawl.
You don’t understand what his problem is and why he was looking at you like that. It drove you mad and you didn’t want to talk to Thor about it. He would tell you to not mind his brother, this is what he does. But you just couldn’t let it go.
It’s late now and the palace is quiet. You have your own room to yourself and silence is driving you crazy. Most importantly, those dangerous eyes are on the forefront of your mind.
You need to get out of this room and think clearly. Wandering down the halls, no one pays much attention to you. The guards were surely told you are staying here for a while until Thor figures out if there’s any threat on earth.
After some time, you know you should probably head back to your room but further down the hallway, a strange buzzing sound makes you stop. It calls to you so effortlessly and you can’t escape it. Looking over your shoulder to make sure no one is looking, you continue to trek down the hall. You reach a dark corridor where it only gets more pitch black when you look down the spiral staircase.
But that sound is definitely coming from down there and you can’t resist it. You need to see it like it might give you more air to breathe. Every step is careful and slow because every turn, it get increasingly harder to see. All you can hear is the sound of your uneven breathing and the stone steps meeting your shoes.
It feels like you’ve been walking forever then suddenly, soft light carpets the floor of the last turn of the staircase. Your heart thumps nervously, knowing damn well you should not be down here so you tread carefully. The sound is the loudest here, almost deafening but also the most soft, caressing thing you want to be near.
Peaking your head out, there’s guards at the end of the hall. God what are you doing down here? This is going to be a horrible decision. Walking around this place like it’s yours or something. Your eyes veer to the right and you see a creature out of nightmares. A hideous beast, something from the depths of hell spots you in his cell and looks at you like you’re fresh game. You feel your stomach drop and other creatures in cages in the same row spot you. They bang and scratch at the glass, making the most disgusting screeches.
The guards are quick to act and rush to the different cells, trying to calm them down. You take your opportunity to run the other direction and hide as that sweet sound continues to assault your ears. You’re running as fast as you possibly can, looking over your shoulder to make sure no one else sees you down here. This passageway has a dead end and there’s no other option than to turn left. Your feet screech slightly on the marble floor as you redirect your body and then suddenly force yourself to a complete stop.
You’re mere inches from hitting a gilded cage, speckled with power-, magic, surrounding it fully to keep the beast at bay in there. And looking down at you in this cage, with his legs spread wider than his shoulders, hands behind his back, is Loki.
You gasp looking up at his vengeful, dominant eyes. The sound finally stops and it’s so quiet down here you can hear a needle drop. He gives you another smug look and cocks his head when he looks at you.
“Oh, look what came running to me, a little kitten for me to play with,” he says cunningly .
You’re completely taken aback by his abrasive tone. You stand there perfectly still, practically gawking at the man. You don’t know what to say to him at all. The logical side of your brain tells you to run away from him. The other side wants to curl up next to him like a cat and have him rub his hands through your hair.
“Well, what can I do for you? Are you here to apologize for slapping me?” He says unamused.
“No, I’m quite proud of myself for that one,” you say sharply.
“Oh, really? You’re quite different than all the rest. So head strong, nothing like what my brother normally chooses,” he snickers.
You know he’s saying those things to just get under your skin and make his brother look a certain way to you. So you have to try to shake his crass comments and not let him have a reaction.
“What brought you here, y/n?” He says low. The way he says your name makes your whole body tingle. It feels wrong to like the way his voice sounds when he’s talking to you. You feel completely out of control. You’ve never been so easily swayed by a man’s charms. But he is a god after all, this might not apply to him.
“I-I don’t know… I was walking through the palace unable to sleep and-, and I found… you,” you explain.
He nods his head at you like he already knew you were going to say that.
“What did you do to me,” you scowl.
“I might have cast a small spell on you this afternoon. Nothing permanent of course, just something to get you to come to me if you really wanted to speak to me again a little more… private,” he chuckles.
“God you’re evil!” You snap.
“No I’m not!” He shouts, banging his fist against the gilded window. You practically jump out of your skin with the way he’s barked at you.
“I am not the villain they paint me out to be and you know this! Or else you wouldn’t be here completely alone wanting to speak to me again,” he says cunningly.
Sounds of running footsteps approach the hall and you freeze. They’re probably checking on Loki seeing who he is screaming at. You have no where to run and can’t bear the thought of having to explain why a mortal is down here with the God of Mischief. You stare back at Loki, fear completely taking over your body.
“Well it looks like you’re going to have to come in here with me if you want to hide from them,” he quips, way too pleased about the situation. “Or, you can explain to Thor why you were down here in the first place.”
Evil. Pure fucking evil.
Your hands ball into fists and frustration takes over you.
“How do I get in there?” You ask frantically.
“Just step over the threshold. It’s designed to keep me in and only me. You or anyone else can come and go as they please.”
You don’t like this one bit and feel like this is some trick of his. It’s too easy. He had to be up to one of his games and he’s going to trap you in there. But on the other hand, you do not want to have that conversation with Thor of why you’re with his brother so late at night.
“The guards will still see me in there, it’s pointless,” you tell him.
“Don’t worry about that. I can still use some of my magic in here and cloak your appearance. They’ll never know I have a visitor.”
You huff in frustration and step over the threshold of his cell. You run to the back of it, keeping as much distance from him and pray that he’s going to do what he said and cloak your presence so the guards never see you. You push yourself in the corner as you hear the guard’s boots round the corner and charge Loki’s cell. You squeeze your eyes closed, not wanting to see what might happen next.
“Who were you talking to inmate?” One of them barks.
“You know, I do have a name. The least you can do is call me by my name,” Loki says arrogantly.
“Answer me!” He yells.
“Just to myself. Planning on what I’m going to say to my father next time I see him,” he snaps back.
He gives a cold stare to Loki, “Stay quiet. No one wants to hear from you,” he snaps and proceeds to turn away. Your heart continues to pound away as they leisurely begin to walk away. Loki turns to face you and is clearly so proud of himself.
You can’t keep eye contact with this man for too long or you’ll faint.
“Thank you for hiding me,” you mumble.
“My pleasure. Now, what is it you wanted from me?”
Your throat feels dry when you look upon at him again. You’re in a cage with a dangerous animal. You should not be here under any circumstances and yet, you gladly walked into his trap.
You didn’t want to be here very much longer, but you did have a question for him.
“Why’d you do it?”
“Do what exactly darling? Going to have to be a bit more specific,” he chuckles.
“Why did you try to take over New York. What was the plan there?”
He scoffs at the question and takes a few steps towards you.
“I was doing exactly what I was made to be; to be king. Your planet was in dire ruin, needing someone to help them and of course, worship.” He says smugly.
You can’t believe what you’re hearing. He’s completely delusional.
“You put so many lives at risk, don’t you have any empathy?”
“I was fed a lie my whole life I was meant to be king. I was only taking what I thought was supposed to be mine in the first place,” he rasps.
“That’s just not how you gain people’s trust, they’ll only see the monster in you. You can’t have a throne that wasn’t meant for you,” you tell him.
He’s taken aback by your candor and doesn’t know what to say. He takes a couple steps closer to you and motions you up.
“Get off the floor, you shouldn’t be down there,” he says annoyed.
You slowly stand up and sit on one of the chairs, never taking your eyes off of him.
“What is your plan now then? Your plan got foiled on earth, what’s next?” You ask smartly.
He hates hearing how he failed. He can’t look at you when you continue to press him about New York.
“Oh, I’ll be out of here in no time. I’m not too worried about that. I have plenty to do once I’m out. The same goes for you, what are you doing once you get out of here?”
“I don’t know. I’ll go back to my studies on earth. I have plenty to do too,” you quip.
His eyes inspect you as you sit there, his face exhibiting a look of intrigue and disgust.
“Mmm really? And do you think my brother will have any interest in you once you go back?” He asks, his voice is snarky and full of judgment.
“What? How dare you question me like that. You have no idea about your brother-,” you begin to snap back.
“Really? You think you know him better than I? I have seen him get attached to various goddesses and they never last. You think I care about a throne? Thor is worse. He’s egotistical and careless when it comes to power because he knows he’s the favorite and can get away with anything,” he snarls. “He won’t want a mortal around once he gets what he truly wants.”
“Stop it!” You scream at him, getting up out of your chair and rushing to him. Your hands bang against his chest, pure rage heating your bones.
“How dare you! I was right! You are evil! Pure fucking evil. All you do is spout lies!” You shriek.
“Oh but this is the truth darling.” He says calmly, not paying any attention you are hitting him.
“I care for your brother, you can’t tell me otherwise,” you hiss, pushing at his chest to get him away. He doesn’t budge an inch.
“No I can’t, but I know when you’re lying,” he challenges.
“What?” You ask confused.
“Why are you really here y/n? It wasn’t to ask me about New York or question my empathy. Something else brought you here.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about…” you say.
“The spell doesn’t make you act against your wishes, it just affirms what I suspected and you wanted to see me again.”
“No I don’t want to be in your sight a moment longer!” You growl, pushing at his chest again.
“You can push me or slap me as many times as you like, my little kitten. It’s still not going to hide the fact that you wanted to be around me again,” he says smartly.
You might just take him up on that offer because you’ve never felt so frustrated. You hate how he’s making the worst come out of you. You normally aren’t this easy to pester. Something about him makes you feel like you’re a ticking time bomb.
Your heart begins to race and sweat begins to permeate at your temples.
“You could leave whenever you please, yet you’re still here screaming how much you hate me. The guards are bound to come by again and I don’t know what I’m going to tell them this time,” he snickers.
He takes a small step forward, his height looming a foot over you.
“Let’s try this again… Why. Are. You. Here?” he growls at you.
You swallow harshly and look into the depths of the ocean he has for eyes. There’s a softness to them, beyond the roughness of the seas, he truly wants to know you.
“I found you… beguiling in the best and worst ways,” you admit.
“Mmm I see. In what ways, hmm?”
You can’t break his eye contact and feel yourself holding your breath as he looks at you.
“ I-I hated what you did in New York… It made me so mad that when I saw you, I had to slap you for your selfish actions. But then, I also found you so… enticing. Like I never wanted you to stop looking at me like you did in the throne room,” you whisper.
You can’t catch your breath and feel woozy. You finally take in deep breaths but your knees feel like you’re going buckle over any moment now. He catches you, placing a hand on the middle of your back and pulling you forward again. Your chests meet and feel the air get sucked out of you being this close to him. His eyes shift downwards as he feels you tremble in his arms.
“Your heart is racing out of your chest, darling… I’ve got you.”
You nod your head and take another shaky breath in.
“I’m glad you weren’t the only one who felt like that in the throne room… I have never seen such a heavenly creature in my life. What an honor to get such hatred and also such bewitching looks from someone like you,” he says low.
His voice stirs something egregious out of you and you have a new feeling come pouring out of you.
Hot, raging lust.
You look at those eyes that can swallow you whole and those lips that are begging to be kissed and grab onto his biceps tightly. He is also having a hard time breathing, grabbing onto you tighter, and eyeing your lips, too. You feel so helpless but have never welcomed this feeling more than with Loki. You feel like a magnet being pulled to the strongest force field in the world. You’ve completely, and most arduously succumbed to him.
“Kiss me, I want to know how your lips feel,” you whimper.
He stares at you in shock momentarily, not expecting that to come out of your mouth.
You give his arms another squeeze, silently begging for him to give you what you want.
He leans in and gives you a gentle, sweet kiss. You already love how his lips taste and go for another. Oh god, he’s perfect, better than you could have ever dreamed his lips to feel. But you crave more. You don’t care if you’re being needy, you don’t want this to stop.
You pull away momentarily, “now, like you mean it,” you whisper. You look into his eyes and you swear they light up in flames.
He puts both hands on your hips and pushes you against the wall. His tall, rigid frame feels good against your hot, pliant body. His hands roam along your back and squeeze when they find your hips and push you more into his body.
God he feels so good, you never knew a man, more correctly, a god can feel this good on you.
He looks at you again, bewildered eyes not believing this is real. So you tangle your hands in his hair and console him that you need this too.
His lips crash into you fervently this time and you groan at the sensation. He kisses you like he’s been deprived of it. His hands continue to roam, exploring your body over your dress which only lights you more on fire. His raven black tresses are soft in between your finger tips and love that you get to push him closer this way. You can’t get enough of his kisses and hope this moment never ends. His tongue brushes your bottom lip, carefully assessing how you liked that. You gladly invite him for more, opening your mouth and deepening the kiss. His tongue swirls around yours and you feel unglued. The way this man kisses you makes you feel on edge and satiating that hunger you’ve been dying with.
Your wetness pools and you feel that familiar throbbing that makes it hard to think clearly.
He pulls away abruptly and squeezes your hips firmly.
“Can I taste you?" He groans.
You nod your head fervently and begin to lift your dress up. You don’t care how unbelievably deprived you are acting, all you know is his lips anywhere on your body is going to be the best thing you’ve ever felt.
He drops to his knees and puts both of his hands on your thighs. In one quick motion, he rips you panties off and tosses them to the side. He spreads your legs wider apart and he gives you another devious look from below.
“Fall apart on me,” he coos, as his tongue swipes up through the center of you. You have to keep your mouth covered from making the loudest moans but you are right, his mouth feels so damn good on you. He groans heavily as he explores you, licking from your entrance to your clit. Once he knows how sensitive your clit is, he doesn’t stop teasing it. Swirling and sucking at it any chance he gets makes you feel completely at his mercy.
Your hand goes back in his hair and guides him where you want him most. Your hips can’t help rock into his face, edging you closer to your climax and groaning his name.
“Loki, fuck just like that,” you whimper.
He grabs a handful of your ass as you whimper helplessly, enjoying this just as much as you are. You feel that familiar flutter in your stomach that you’re so close to falling apart on him. When suddenly, his tongue plunges inside you. You let out a shrieking yelp. You weren’t expecting him to do that but you are so glad he did. He feels so good as he moves in and out of you. You have never felt such pleasure and love every second of this. His thumb rubs your clit in a slow circle as he eats you out fervently, making sure to get every last drop out of you and onto his tongue.
You swing one of your legs on his shoulder and feel yourself unable to hold backing longer. You pull at his hair which only keeps him going.
“Loki-, Please… Oh god, I need to finish,” you whimper.
He stops for a brief moment and looks up at you mischievously.
“Cum for me, let me taste how delicious you are when you fall apart,” he growls.
His tongue enters you again and you practically see stars. You come crashing down over and over again, the breath getting sucked out of your lungs in the best ways. Your walls flutter around him and feel him groaning against you. You can’t help but love that sound he makes for you. It’s truly addictive.
Your legs tremble and he sits back on his heels, looking at you in awe but still ravenous. You look at the sight before you and see how the hard imprint of his cock is outlined against the leather of his suit. Your mind rapidly had a new need when you look at him like this. You want to feel how hot and heavy he feels in your hand. How it aches for you. How badly it needs to be inside you and make you beg for more.
“Let me touch you,” you plead.
“Go lay down,” he motions toward the small couch on the other side of the cell. “No one will see you, I’ve glamoured it so it looks like I’m laying down there to anyone who passes by.”
You felt better by that admission and don’t question for a second if he’s lying to you. There’s so much possessiveness behind his eyes as he looks at you that you believe he won’t do anything other than protect you from anyone who comes close to his cage.
He’s not far behind as his hands wrap around you like a vine from behind. His hands brush the straps of your dress off your shoulders and kisses your back and your neck. He breathes in your scent then lets a slow, groaning exhale. You melt into his touch and push your dress off your body and around your hips. He helps with the rest and kisses you all the way down to your calves. As he makes his way up, he turns you to face him. He drinks in your body and savors every inch of it. His hands slightly tremble when he goes to touch your breasts, feeling your hard nipples and down to the curve of your hips.
“Perfect,” he mutters.
You lay down on the couch and wait for him. With a motion of his wrist, his suit is gone and he’s completely bare in front of you. He’s perfect in every way. His chiseled body and his radiant skin make him truly look like a god. He looks like a statue, something you would find in a museum that people used to worship centuries ago. And everything inside you was ready to worship this god tonight and do anything he pleased. Your eyes go lower and you find his length, dripping in precum and aching to be touched. You want to touch him so badly but you wait for what he wants to do next.
His body fits between your legs and caresses your face, his length resting against your core. You moan and find it harder to breathe.
“Do you want me?” He sighs, kissing your neck.
“Yes.”
“So the mortal needs her God to show how I can offer the best possible pleasure she so desperately craves?”
“Fuck, yes,” you whisper, grabbing his length and guiding it to your entrance.
He groans when he feels how wet you are for him. His warm length felt good in your hand but you really wanted him inside you, consuming every last thought you might ever have.
“Fuck you’re so wet for me, you need me to take care of you?” He groans, pushing his hips forward.
You groan and whimper over and over yes to him.
“Please, I’m begging. I’ll beg all night if I must.”
He takes your hand off his length and he slowly pushes himself inside you. He’s overwhelming at first, filling you slowly and stretching your walls around him. Your eyes roll back and curse his name. You’ve never felt pleasure like this, so all consuming and so intense. He takes his time, slowly giving you more, pulling himself out to the tip, then plunging in more. You gasp for breath, feeling as though you’ve never felt pleasure before he arrived. You’re trying to be quiet but it’s hard. You don’t want to be caught.
He has one hand on your hip the other softly caressing your breast. You never noticed how big his hands were before. His fingers are so slender and long. His touch has softness to it but also extremely commanding. You feel him pepper you chest with kisses and go up to your neck then stop.
“Open your eyes for me darling. Look at me,” he murmurs.
You obey and drown in his eyes instantly. He thrusts his cock further into you and fills you completely. He stills and you both groan together. You gasp for air and your jaw drops when you feel how he fits inside you. He’s so perfect and your body squeezes around him, trying to acclimate to him.
His eyes are locked on every single reaction you make.
“Oh, that’s it darling. Look at me right here. Yes, that’s it. God you’re perfect. You feel like heaven-,” he groans heavily, biting his bottom lip slightly as he slowly pulls out of you. You moan and feel on fire with him. His hips move in fluid, controlled thrusts and you feel yourself crumbling quick. You press your lips together to keep yourself quiet but he feels too good.
Your eyes flutter closed and feel pleasure build inside of you. Wetness pools out of you and down to your back side as his thrust become deeper and harder. The sounds he makes should be illegal. He’s enjoying every inch of you, his hands consuming every bit of your body and watching you come apart with every movement of his hips.
Your body writhes underneath him as your walls begin to flutter. He’s all too much and not enough at the same time. As he’s watching you lose every ounce of control, he reaches for your legs and put them on top of his shoulders. You feel completely unglued. He’s filling you in a new way and pushing on this ultra-sensitive spot inside you. You cry his name and can’t breathe. He wears this smug expression on his face as he sees how much you like this. He fucks you harder, making you both come unglued.
Your moans become louder the more he’s moving. You can’t contain it anymore, you’re losing it by the second. He slows down as he looks at you.
“Shh darling, you were doing so good. You take my cock so well. I love that sound you make when I stuff you completely,” he groans, fucking you to the brim.
You whimper in agony and cry his name, a bit too loudly. He places two fingers to your lips and shushes you once more.
“Oh darling, I’d love to have you continue to make such beautiful sounds for me but we can’t do that here. You need to be quiet. Open your mouth and suck.”
You’re doused in flames and do what he wants. You swirl your tongue over the pads of his index and middle fingers before he pushes them in further. He only puts them in half way and that’s enough for you. You moan slightly and he does too when you look into his eyes. His face is drowning in lust watching you suck his fingers, trying everything to stay quiet and rolling his hips into you again in a commanding pace.
You can’t hold back any longer and feel your climax hit you like a crashing wave. Your entire body tenses and you feel your core squeeze around him. He loves it. His mouth falls open and doesn’t take his eyes off of you for one second. He groans your name which only makes your body respond to him more. Your heart pounds in your chest as you see stars and can’t get enough of him.
He begins to groan more gruffly and pound his cock into you harder. You whimper and watch him about to fall apart any moment now. His jaw tenses and his eyes trail down to where you two are met.
“Fuck… you’re killing me. You’re wrapped around me so tight. I need to cum…” he grits through his teeth.
Your fingers scratch down his back, wanting to know what that feels like and hope he doesn’t stop now. He looks back up to your face and sees you silently pleading for him. He begins to move again and doesn’t take too long for his thrusts to become sporadic and uneven. He can barely catch his breath as fucks you into this couch and lets himself go. You feel his cock pulse inside of you and the hot load that comes with it. Your eyes roll back, groaning with him and losing all control. He lolls his head back as his pace slows and he’s trying to breathe again.
He pulls his fingers out of you and begins to ravage you in kisses. You welcome it and tangle your hands in his hair once more. He seems like he hasn’t gotten enough of you. His hands memorize every curve of your body and squeezes you gently. He finally stops and looks into your eyes.
“You are just marvelous,” he coos.
You blush at the compliment. You hate getting praise but from him, its a drug.
He gently pulls out of you, barely looking at you when he gets up from the couch. Did he not think he was allowed to look at you after all this?
“What is it?” You ask gently.
“It nothing,” he says over his shoulder, “I can’t believe you allowed me to be in your presence. You’re- quite perfect… and the fact you’d want to be so intimate with someone like me... you’ve taken me by surprise.” You’re taken aback; is the God of Mischief smitten right now?
“I could say the same.”
He motions his wrist and suddenly, you have your dress back on. His suit is also back on and he faces you again. He walks toward you and grabs your hand, pulling you up off the couch. He kisses the back of it, holding the most intense eye contact while doing so.
“It was a pleasure arguing with you.” He says cheekily.
“Pleasure’s all mine,” you quip.
“I’ll be looking forward the next time we meet,” he challenges. Your heart races by that thought. You begin to walk away but he still has his grasp around your hand. He pulls you into his chest, holding you flush to him with his other hand and inches from your face.
“And next time, you won’t have to be so quiet. I have so many other ways to please you.”
synapse: after falling from the shattered bifrost, a wounded loki awakens in the home of an ordinary midgardian whose simple act of kindness begins to challenge everything he believes about trust, honesty, and humanity
a/n: saw my man in the doomsday trailer and had to write for him
PART TWO is linked here
. . .
By eleven-thirty, Y/N had wiped down every table in the diner twice.
The chairs were flipped upside down over the booths and tables, the coffee machines had been cleaned, and the neon OPEN sign in the front window had been switched off nearly an hour ago. Outside, the empty highway stretched through the desert in both directions, illuminated only by the occasional passing headlights and the pale glow of the moon.
It was the kind of road people used to get somewhere else.
Few ever stopped unless they needed gas, coffee, or a bathroom.
Y/N had been working at the diner long enough to recognize the different types of travelers who came through: exhausted truck drivers, families with screaming children, couples who had clearly been arguing for the past fifty miles and college students attempting road trips in cars that looked one pothole away from collapsing.
Tonight had been unusually quiet.
Her manager had left shortly after closing, trusting Y/N to finish counting the register and lock up. The cook had disappeared through the back door ten minutes after that, leaving behind a cloud of cigarette smoke and a reminder not to forget the lights over the grill.
Now the diner belonged entirely to her.
She had claimed the booth nearest the counter, one leg tucked beneath her as she stared at the open laptop in front of her. A half-finished cup of coffee sat beside it, cold enough that the thin layer of creamer on top had begun to separate.
Three paragraphs remained between her and freedom.
Technically, five pages remained between her and freedom, but she had decided not to think about that.
Y/N leaned closer to the screen, squinting at the sentence she had rewritten four separate times.
The significance of—
She deleted it.
The historical importance of—
Delete.
“This is stupid,” she muttered.
Her professor had given the class two weeks to complete the assignment. Naturally, Y/N had spent thirteen days thinking about starting it and was now attempting to finish the entire thing during closing shifts at the diner.
The cursor blinked mockingly at her.
Y/N reached for her coffee, took one sip, and immediately grimaced.
“Disgusting.”
She drank it again anyway.
A faint rumble rolled somewhere in the distance.
At first, she assumed it was thunder.
The monsoon clouds had been gathering along the horizon since sunset, though they had yet to offer anything beyond a few flashes of lightning and enough humidity to make her hair cling to the back of her neck.
Y/N returned her attention to the laptop.
The significance of Norse mythology—
A blinding streak of light flashed past the diner windows.
She barely had time to lift her head before something struck the earth outside with a tremendous crash.
The windows rattled in their frames.
Silverware clattered inside its plastic trays. Her coffee tipped over, spreading across the table and soaking the corner of her notebook.
Y/N jumped from the booth with a sharp cry.
“What the hell?”
The lights flickered once.
Twice.
Then steadied.
Y/N remained frozen beside the booth, staring through the darkened windows.
For several seconds, there was nothing.
No second impact. No explosion. No vehicle skidding across the pavement.
Only silence.
The coffee continued dripping from the edge of the table and onto the floor.
Y/N slowly closed her laptop before the spreading liquid could reach it. Her pulse beat hard against her throat as she stepped away from the booth.
Maybe a transformer had blown.
Except the diner still had power.
Maybe someone had crashed nearby.
That possibility forced her feet into motion.
She hurried behind the counter and crouched, reaching beneath the register until her fingers closed around the wooden baseball bat her manager kept there.
He had claimed it was for protection.
Y/N had always thought it was more likely to get them sued.
Tonight, however, the weight of it in her hands felt reassuring.
She moved toward the front door and stopped with her fingers wrapped around the lock.
Calling the police would be the sensible thing to do.
She pulled her phone from the pocket of her apron.
No Service.
“Of course.”
She raised it over her head as though six additional inches might convince the nearest tower to acknowledge her existence.
Nothing.
The diner sat in one of those inconvenient dead zones where calls only went through if someone stood near the old vending machines outside and held their phone at exactly the right angle.
Y/N considered remaining inside.
Whatever had happened could wait until she found service.
Then she imagined someone trapped inside a wrecked car while she stood ten yards away debating whether it was safe to investigate.
She swore softly and unlocked the door.
Hot desert air rushed inside.
Y/N tightened both hands around the bat as she stepped into the parking lot. Gravel crunched beneath her sneakers. The overhead lights buzzed faintly, attracting moths and small flying insects that threw shifting shadows across the asphalt.
“Hello?”
No answer.
She looked toward the highway.
The road was empty.
There were no headlights, no tire marks and no wreckage scattered across the pavement. Whatever had caused the impact had come from somewhere else.
Y/N’s eyes shifted toward the stretch of desert behind the diner.
A faint haze of dust hung over the ground.
Beyond the last row of parking spaces, something had carved a shallow trench through the sand and scattered rocks in every direction. Sparse bushes had been flattened along its path.
Y/N stared at it.
“Nope.”
She took one step backward.
Then she heard it.
A low, strained sound coming from somewhere beyond the edge of the parking lot.
It might have been a groan.
The bat lowered slightly in her hands.
“Hello?”
Still no response.
Y/N approached the disturbed ground with careful steps. The diner lights grew dimmer behind her as she followed the shallow trench into the darkness.
Her sneakers sank into the loose sand.
At the end of the trail, a dark shape lay crumpled between two desert shrubs.
Y/N stopped.
It was a person.
A man, she realized as she moved closer. He lay facedown in the sand with one arm bent unnaturally beneath him and long black hair obscuring most of his face.
His clothing caught the moonlight in brief flashes of green, black and gold.
Not clothing, exactly.
Armor.
Y/N’s grip tightened around the baseball bat.
For one absurd moment, she wondered whether the nearby Renaissance festival had started early.
Then she saw the blood.
It stained the side of his face and soaked through torn fabric beneath the metal plating around his shoulders. One of his hands was scraped raw, his fingers still curled as though they had been holding something moments before.
The bat slipped lower.
“Oh, shit.”
Y/N hurried the remaining distance and dropped to her knees beside him.
“Hey.”
She placed the bat within reach and cautiously touched two fingers to the side of his neck.
His skin was cold.
Not cool from the night air. Cold enough to make her instinctively pull her hand back.
Panic shot through her.
Then she felt it.
A pulse.
Slow, but present.
Y/N released a breath she had not realized she was holding.
“Okay. You’re alive.”
The stranger did not respond.
She leaned closer, watching for the movement of his back. His breathing was shallow and uneven, but he was breathing.
That was good.
Breathing meant not dead.
She could work with not dead.
Y/N pulled out her phone again and dialed 911 despite the empty bars in the corner of the screen.
The call immediately failed.
She stood and walked several paces away, raising the phone toward the sky.
“Come on. Come on.”
No service.
She tried closer to the diner.
Nothing.
Near the edge of the highway.
Still nothing.
Y/N looked back at the man lying motionless in the dirt.
The nearest hospital was at least forty minutes away. The nearest place she could reliably make a call was probably the gas station fifteen miles down the road.
She could drive there and call for help.
She could also return to find that he had stopped breathing while she was gone.
“Why did you have to land in the one place without a signal?” she demanded.
The unconscious man offered no explanation.
Y/N paced once across the gravel, pressing the heels of her hands against her eyes.
She could not lift him.
Even from several feet away, she could tell he was tall. Lean, perhaps, but tall enough that attempting to carry him would end with both of them injured.
Dragging him across the sand would worsen whatever damage he had already suffered.
She stared at him, then at her car parked near the side of the diner.
An idea began to form.
It was not a good idea.
In fact, it was objectively one of the stupidest ideas she had ever entertained.
But it was technically an idea.
Y/N hurried toward her car and yanked open the back door. Fast-food wrappers, textbooks and an emergency sweatshirt occupied the seat. She pushed them aside before opening the trunk.
Her skateboard was buried beneath a reusable grocery bag and a case of bottled water.
She had not used it in months. The scratched deck was covered in faded stickers, and one of the wheels squeaked whenever it turned, but it remained mostly functional.
“Please don’t break,” she whispered, pulling it free.
Y/N carried the skateboard back across the parking lot and into the desert.
The stranger had not moved.
She placed the board beside him and crouched.
“Okay. Here’s what’s going to happen.”
He remained unconscious.
“I’m going to get you into my car, drive until I have service and call an ambulance. You’re not going to wake up and murder me.”
Nothing.
Y/N nodded.
“Great. Glad we agree.”
She rolled him carefully onto his back.
His face turned toward her.
Y/N paused.
Despite the blood streaking his temple and the bruises beginning to darken beneath his pale skin, he was—
Well.
He was unfairly attractive.
His features were sharp and almost elegant, from the high curve of his cheekbones to the severe line of his nose. Dark lashes rested against his skin. His long hair spread across the sand around him.
Y/N stared for one second too long.
Then she caught herself.
“Not relevant.”
His armor was unlike anything she had ever seen up close. The gold pieces were scratched and bent, while the green fabric beneath them had been torn in several places. It did not look like plastic or cheap costume metal.
It looked real.
Heavy, too.
That explained part of the problem.
Y/N slid her hands beneath his shoulders and attempted to lift him.
His upper body rose perhaps two inches before her arms began to shake.
“Oh, come on.”
She lowered him again and repositioned the skateboard closer.
The first attempt ended with one of his arms sliding from the board and dropping limply into the sand.
The second ended when the board rolled away from her.
On the third attempt, Y/N wedged one foot behind a wheel, hooked both hands beneath his arms and pulled with everything she had.
His shoulders landed across the deck.
The rest of him did not.
Y/N dropped onto the sand beside him, breathing heavily.
“Fuck. You could’ve been shorter.”
The stranger remained serenely unhelpful.
She climbed back to her feet, grabbed him beneath the arms again and dragged him another few inches onto the board. His legs extended far beyond the end, boots scraping lines through the sand.
It was not dignified.
It was not medically advisable.
It was, however, progress.
Y/N stepped back and examined her work.
His torso rested across the skateboard while his arms hung over either side and his heels remained on the ground.
She pulled off her apron, threaded it beneath his arms and tied it loosely across his chest to keep him from rolling off.
“There.”
He looked like the world’s most elaborate piece of luggage.
Y/N grabbed the front of the skateboard and began pulling.
The wheels sank immediately into the sand.
She stopped.
“You have got to be kidding me.”
Y/N moved behind the board and pushed instead. It rolled several inches before catching on a rock and nearly throwing the stranger sideways.
She lunged forward and caught his shoulder.
“Absolutely not. I did not do all this just for you to crack your head open again.”
She dragged the board around the rock and continued.
. . .
Y/N unlocked the apartment with one hand while keeping one foot planted against the skateboard to stop it from rolling backward. Then she dragged him inside, kicked the door shut and leaned against it, breathing heavily.
Her living room was small.
A worn couch occupied one wall, facing a television balanced on a low wooden stand. Books and college papers covered the coffee table. A laundry basket sat abandoned near the hallway, half-filled with clean clothes she had not bothered folding.
It was not the setting in which one expected to receive a mysterious armored man.
It would have to do.
Getting him onto the couch took another ten minutes.
Once he was finally stretched across the cushions, Y/N stood over him with both hands braced against her lower back.
“There.”
He looked uncomfortable.
His legs extended beyond the armrest, and one of the metal pieces at his shoulder pressed awkwardly against his neck.
Y/N frowned.
The armor had to come off.
She hesitated.
Removing someone’s clothing without permission felt wrong.
Leaving blood-soaked material pressed against open injuries also felt wrong.
She crouched beside him and examined the clasps.
“I’m only doing this because I don’t want you to die. Not to be a pervert.”
The armor did not appear designed for easy removal.
Each piece overlapped another, secured with unfamiliar fastenings and narrow strips of dark leather. Y/N began with the gold shoulder plates, testing every buckle until one finally released.
The metal was colder than it should have been.
She placed each piece carefully on the floor beside the coffee table. Beneath the outer armor, the fabric was torn and damp with blood. A long cut ran beneath his ribs, while smaller abrasions covered his shoulders and arms.
Y/N swallowed.
“Okay.”
She found scissors in the kitchen and cut through the fabric where it had stuck to the wounds. When she reached the fitted leather around his waist, she paused again.
There was no way to clean everything properly without removing the rest.
Y/N looked at his face.
His breathing remained steady.
“You’re unconscious,” she reasoned quietly. “This is medical.”
She pointed at him.
“And you do not get to be weird about this later.”
She worked as quickly and respectfully as she could, keeping her eyes on the injuries rather than the man beneath the clothing.
That became more difficult when she discovered he wore nothing beneath the final layer.
Y/N immediately grabbed the throw blanket from the back of the couch and covered his lower half.
“Great.”
She stared at the ceiling for a moment.
“Of course.”
Once her face stopped burning, she returned to the task.
She cleaned the blood from his skin with warm water and the softest cloth she owned. His body was marked with bruises that had already darkened to deep shades of purple and blue, especially along his ribs and shoulders. None of his bones appeared obviously broken, though Y/N knew that meant very little.
His skin remained unnaturally cold.
She placed the back of her hand against his forehead.
No fever.
The opposite, if anything.
Y/N wrapped the worst cuts with gauze and secured the bandages with medical tape. She put antibiotic ointment on the shallower scrapes, covered the torn skin across his knuckles and cleaned the blood from his hairline.
At one point, his brow furrowed beneath her touch.
Y/N froze.
His eyes did not open.
“Sorry,” she whispered.
She finished the wound near his temple more gently.
Afterward, she washed his armor in the bathtub.
The water turned pink, then red, then gradually clear. Up close, the pieces looked even less like a costume. The metal was dense and beautifully worked, carved with patterns too intricate to have been manufactured cheaply. Even damaged, it seemed valuable enough to pay her rent for years.
Y/N left the armor to dry on towels across the bathroom floor.
The cloth and leather beneath it required more work.
Several seams had torn apart during his fall, and one sleeve had nearly separated from the shoulder. Y/N retrieved the small sewing kit she used to repair buttons and uniform hems, then sat cross-legged on the floor beside the couch.
The material resisted an ordinary needle.
She broke one attempting to push it through the thicker section.
“You are extremely inconvenient,” she told him.
The stranger did not respond.
She eventually found a heavy needle in the back of the kit and used black thread to close the worst tears. Her stitches were not elegant, but they held. Where the fabric had been too badly damaged, she reinforced it from the inside with pieces cut from an old black shirt.
It took nearly two hours.
By the time she finished, her eyes ached and the sky beyond the windows had begun to lighten at the edges.
Y/N placed the repaired clothing with the rest of the armor in the bathroom. Then she returned to the couch.
The stranger had not moved.
The blanket still covered him from the waist down, though one side had slipped low enough to expose his hip.
Y/N quickly pulled it back into place.
“There. Modesty.”
She added a second blanket over his chest, partly because of how cold he felt and partly because she did not want to walk into the living room later and discover that the first one had fallen away entirely.
She left a glass of water on the coffee table and moved the baseball bat within easy reach of the armchair.
Only then did she allow herself to breathe.
The apartment was quiet.
Too quiet.
Y/N checked the lock on the front door, then checked it again.
She did not think she could sleep.
Instead, she went into the kitchen and filled a kettle.
Tea seemed like something a normal person would make after finding an unconscious man in a crater.
Tea was calming.
Tea was harmless.
Tea did not ask why there was alien-looking armor drying in her bathroom.
Y/N leaned against the counter while the kettle heated, rubbing both hands over her face.
What was she going to do when he woke?
Ask his name.
Ask what happened.
Ask whether there was anyone she could call.
Then, depending on his answer, either drive him to the hospital or lock herself in the bathroom and climb out the window.
The kettle began to whistle.
She turned off the burner, poured the water over two tea bags and tried not to notice how badly her hands shook. One mug was for her. The other was for him, in case he woke and wanted something warm.
She had just added honey to the second cup when she heard movement in the living room.
A rustle of fabric.
Then silence.
Y/N went still.
The baseball bat was in the other room.
Excellent planning.
She reached for the largest kitchen knife instead.
A floorboard creaked.
Then another.
Slow footsteps approached the kitchen.
Y/N tightened her fingers around the handle.
A tall figure appeared in the doorway.
She looked up.
Her breath caught.
The stranger was awake.
He stood with one hand braced against the frame, dark hair falling loose around his shoulders. The bandage at his temple remained in place, though the one wrapped around his ribs had shifted slightly with his movement.
His eyes were sharp and startlingly green.
They swept across the kitchen in a single, assessing glance before settling on her.
He looked disoriented.
Not frightened.
Not confused in the helpless way she had expected.
He looked like an animal waking inside a trap and calculating how many people stood between him and the exit.
Y/N lowered the knife slightly.
“Hi.”
His gaze dropped to the blade.
Then returned to her face.
“Where am I?”
His voice was low and rough from disuse, but the words carried a precise, commanding weight that made her stand straighter without meaning to.
“My apartment.”
His expression hardened. “What realm?”
Y/N blinked. “New Mexico.”
His eyes narrowed.
“That was not my question.”
She stared at him. “Uh…Earth?”
A slight shift passed over his features.
“Midgard.”
He spoke the word as though confirming something unpleasant.
Y/N studied him more carefully.
He was pale and unsteady, but there was something unmistakably regal in the way he held himself. Even injured and wrapped in bandages, he looked as though he expected the room to accommodate his presence.
He took one step forward.
The movement drew her attention downward.
Y/N immediately turned toward the counter.
“Oh my God.”
The stranger stopped. “What?”
“You’re naked.”
Silence.
Y/N kept her eyes fixed on the tea.
Completely fixed.
She could still see him at the edge of her vision, which was far more than she wanted to see while attempting to have a conversation with him.
“You’re just—” She made a vague gesture with one hand. “You left the blanket.”
The stranger looked down at himself.
There was a pause.
Not embarrassment.
Merely acknowledgment. “As it would seem.”
Y/N glanced at him by accident.
Her gaze dropped.
She immediately snapped it back to his face and then away again.
“Could you please cover yourself?”
“Why?”
The question sounded genuine.
Y/N looked toward the ceiling.
“Because you’re standing naked in my kitchen.”
“I am aware.”
“You weren’t until I said something.”
His mouth tightened. “I was otherwise occupied.”
“With what?”
“Determining where I have been taken.”
“No one took you anywhere.”
His eyes sharpened. “You expect me to believe that I arrived here of my own will?”
“I found you outside my job.”
He watched her in silence.
“You were unconscious,” she continued. “In the desert. You were bleeding, and I couldn’t get service to call an ambulance, so I brought you here.”
She gestured toward the hallway without looking directly at him.
“Your clothes are in the bathroom.”
“My clothes?”
“The armor or whatever.”
His gaze moved over her face, searching for some indication of deception.
“You removed them.”
Y/N’s cheeks warmed again. “They were covered in blood.”
“You disrobed me while I was insensible.”
“To clean your injuries.”
His expression became unreadable.
Y/N finally looked at his face.
Only his face.
“I covered you with a blanket.”
“Which appears to have been of greater concern to you than to me.”
“Yes, because I’m the one being traumatized right now.”
One of his eyebrows lifted.
The reaction was subtle, but unmistakably offended. “You speak boldly for one who claims not to be my captor.”
Y/N stared at him.
“You are naked, bleeding in my apartment and threatening me while butt-naked. I think we’re past formal introductions.”
The corner of his mouth shifted.
Not quite a smile.
More the distant memory of one.
It vanished before she could be certain.
“Where is the latrine?”
“Bathroom? Down the hall. First door on the left.”
He turned.
Y/N accidentally caught another glimpse of him from behind.
She spun back toward the counter so quickly that tea sloshed over the rim of her mug.
“And take the blanket with you!”
He paused in the doorway.
“What blanket?”
“The one on the floor in the living room.”
“I have no need of it.”
“I do.”
He looked over his shoulder at her.
For a moment, his eyes traveled across her face, taking in the flush in her cheeks and the determined way she refused to look below his shoulders.
Something knowing entered his expression.
“You are embarrassed.”
“I’m trying to be respectful.”
“An unusual concern, considering you have already seen me.”
Y/N’s mouth fell open. “For medical reasons.”
“So you claim.”
“I saved your life.”
“That remains to be determined.”
She turned fully toward him then, irritation momentarily overpowering embarrassment.
“You know what? Fine. Walk around naked. I don’t care.”
His eyes flicked downward briefly, following the line of her gaze before it shot back to his face.
“No,” he said softly. “I can see that.”
Y/N grabbed a dish towel and threw it at him.
His hand rose.
The towel stopped in midair.
Y/N froze.
It hovered between them for one impossible second before floating neatly into his waiting palm.
The kitchen fell silent.
Her grip tightened around the knife.
The stranger glanced at the towel as though nothing remarkable had occurred.
Then he looked at her.
Fear must have shown on her face, because his expression changed.
The amusement disappeared.
His shoulders drew back, despite the pain the movement caused him, and the regal coldness returned all at once.
“You would be wise to lower the blade.”
Y/N swallowed. “…You just stopped that in the air.”
“A minor feat.”
“That is not minor.”
“To you, perhaps.”
He stepped toward her.
Y/N raised the knife again.
He stopped.
For the first time since entering the kitchen, he appeared to truly see her, not merely as part of the strange room in which he had awakened, but as the woman who had found him, tended his wounds and was now plainly frightened of what stood before her.
His gaze moved to the bandage wrapped around his hand.
Then to the repaired cut along his side.
“You treated these.”
“Yes.”
“Without knowing what I am.”
“I still don’t know what you are.”
His expression hardened faintly at the wording.
Y/N noticed.
“Who,” she corrected. “I don’t know who you are.”
He studied her for a long moment.
Then, with visible reluctance, he wrapped the dish towel around his waist.
It covered almost nothing.
Y/N stared at it.
“That is a hand towel.”
“You demanded I cover myself.”
“Not with something the size of a napkin.”
His patience visibly thinned.
“I have survived the void between worlds. I will not be scolded over your household linens.”
“Then go get the blanket.”
His eyes flashed.
Y/N pointed down the hallway.
“Or your clothes.”
There was a tense pause.
Then he turned away with what remained of his dignity and walked toward the bathroom, one hand holding the towel closed at his hip.
Y/N waited until he disappeared from sight before setting the knife down.
Her knees felt weak.
She pressed both palms against the counter.
He had caught a towel without touching it.
He had called Earth Midgard.
He had asked which realm he was in.
Y/N looked toward the hallway.
The bathroom door opened.
Then silence.
A moment later, his voice carried through the apartment.
“What have you done to my garments?”
Y/N closed her eyes.
“I cleaned them.”
“You stitched them.”
“They were ripped.”
“With Midgardian thread.”
“It was that or dental floss.”
Another silence.
Then, colder, “Where are the remaining pieces?”
“On the floor beside the bathtub. I didn’t know how they attached.”
The bathroom door opened again.
He emerged wearing only the lower half of his clothing, the repaired leather sitting low on his hips while he carried the torn tunic in one hand.
Y/N made a concentrated effort to focus on the stitching.
His fingers traced one of the repaired seams.
The work looked crude beneath his touch, especially compared to the original construction.
“I know it isn’t perfect,” she said defensively. “The material broke two of my needles.”
His gaze lifted to hers.
“You repaired it yourself.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Y/N frowned. “Because it was damaged.”
“That is not an answer.”
“It’s the only one I have.”
He continued watching her.
There was suspicion in his face, but something else beneath it. Something less certain.
Y/N gestured toward the second mug on the counter.
“I made tea.”
His eyes shifted toward it.
“You prepared it for me.”
“In case you woke up.”
“You did not know whether I would.”
“No.”
“And yet you prepared it.”
Y/N shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable beneath the weight of his attention. “You looked like you needed something warm.”
His expression became distant.
For a fleeting moment, the arrogance slipped.
He looked tired.
Not merely from his injuries, but from something deeper, something that had begun long before he struck the earth outside the diner.
Then the mask returned.
“What is your name?”
“Y/N.”
He repeated it quietly, testing the sound.
She waited.
“And you are?”
His chin lifted.
The change in him was immediate. Even half-dressed and bandaged in a stranger’s kitchen, he gathered himself as though standing before a royal court.
“I am Loki of Asgard.”
Y/N stared at him.
He continued, each title delivered with wounded, practiced pride.
“Son of Odin. Prince of the realm. God of Mischief.”
The kitchen fell silent.
Y/N looked at his repaired clothing.
Then at the unfamiliar armor visible through the open bathroom door.
Then at the man who had stopped a flying towel in midair.
“Oh.”
His eyes narrowed. “That is all you have to say?”
“What do you want me to say? I’m processing.”
“You doubt me.”
“I watched you do magic, so I’m trying very hard not to.”
“Magic.” His tone suggested the word was inadequate.
Y/N picked up the second mug and held it out to him. “Tea?”
Loki looked at it as though unsure whether it was an offering or a test.
Then he approached.
He took the mug from her hand, his fingers brushing hers.
His skin remained cold.
Y/N tried not to react.
Loki noticed anyway.
His gaze dropped to their hands.
Then rose slowly to her face.
She withdrew first.
“You should sit down,” she said. “Before you fall down.”
“I do not fall.”
Y/N glanced toward the living room. “You literally fell out of the sky.”
His expression went still.
The remark landed harder than she intended.
His fingers tightened around the mug.
Y/N watched the humor vanish from his face and immediately regretted it.
“I didn’t mean—”
“You know nothing of what occurred.”
His voice had lost its rough amusement. What remained was cold and sharp enough to cut.
“No,” she said carefully. “I don’t.”
He looked away.
For several moments, he said nothing.
The silence felt heavier than anger.
Y/N studied him, noticing the tension in his jaw and the way his eyes fixed on some distant point beyond the kitchen walls.
Whatever had brought him to Earth had not been an accident.
Or, if it had, it was not the part that troubled him most.
She did not ask.
Instead, she nudged the honey closer across the counter.
“It might need more of that.”
Loki glanced down.
His grip on the mug gradually loosened.
“You are a peculiar creature.”
“I get that a lot.”
“You should be afraid of me.”
“I am a little.”
His gaze returned to hers.
The honesty appeared to surprise him.
Y/N folded her arms.
“But you’re hurt, and you haven’t done anything except insult my sewing and refuse to wear a blanket.”
A faint breath escaped him.
Almost a laugh.
“Your sewing is appalling.”
“And yet your clothes aren’t falling apart anymore.”
He examined the repaired seam once more.
“No,” he conceded quietly. “They are not.”
Y/N lifted her own mug.
“Drink your tea, Your Highness.”
Loki’s eyes narrowed at the title, uncertain whether she was mocking him.
She was.
But only a little.
He raised the mug to his lips.
The tea was still hot enough that he paused after the first sip, surprise briefly crossing his face.
Y/N hid a smile behind her own cup.
There, half-dressed in her kitchen with his armor drying beside her bathtub and black thread closing the tears in his princely garments, Loki of Asgard took another cautious drink.
For the first time since waking, he did not look toward the door.
. . .
By the time Loki finished eating, the clock above the stove read 4:57 a.m.
Y/N stared at it for several seconds, as though willing the numbers to rearrange themselves into something less offensive.
They did not.
The remains of his meal sat on the plate in front of him: a smear of egg yolk, one corner of toast and nothing else. For someone who had initially regarded the food as beneath him, Loki had eaten with impressive efficiency.
He had also asked seventeen questions.
Y/N had counted.
Most of them had concerned Midgard, her home, the diner, the glowing box mounted above the stove and why humans stored food in cold cupboards only to heat it again moments later.
Several had concerned her.
Those had been harder to answer.
She gathered the empty dishes from the small table and carried them to the sink.
Behind her, Loki remained seated with his repaired tunic draped around his shoulders but not properly fastened. He looked marginally better than he had an hour earlier. There was more color in his face, and the trembling in his hands had stopped.
He still looked exhausted.
Y/N suspected she looked worse.
She turned on the faucet and rinsed the plate.
“I’m going to bed.”
The chair shifted behind her.
“Now?”
Y/N looked over her shoulder.
“Yes, now.”
His brows drew together faintly.
“You intend to sleep.”
“That’s usually what going to bed means.”
“In my presence.”
She shut off the water. “You can stay on the couch.”
“That was not my concern.”
Y/N dried her hands on a dish towel. “What is your concern?”
Loki studied her as though the answer should have been obvious.
“You know nothing of me.”
“I know.”
“You have admitted that you believe me dangerous.”
“Potentially.”
“I possess abilities you do not understand.”
“Definitely.”
“And still you would render yourself unconscious within the same dwelling.”
Y/N leaned back against the counter.
“I have been awake for almost twenty-four hours.”
“That does not explain your lack of caution.”
“It explains most of it.”
Loki’s expression suggested that it did not.
Y/N rubbed both hands over her face, then pointed vaguely toward the hallway.
“My bedroom is through there. The bathroom is the first door on the left. You already found that. There are extra blankets in the basket by the couch, and the tap water is technically safe, even if it tastes weird.”
“You speak as though I am a guest.”
“You’re not exactly paying rent.”
His gaze sharpened. “Yet you leave me unattended.”
“I’m too tired to supervise a god.”
“You should not require supervision to ensure your own survival.”
Y/N considered that.
“Fair.”
She pushed away from the counter.
“If you do decide to kill me, could you try to do it before my next shift?”
Loki went completely still.
Y/N walked past him toward the living room.
“I have to be back at the diner tomorrow afternoon, and I’d rather not make them find coverage at the last minute.”
His chair scraped sharply against the floor as he stood. “You jest.”
“Mostly.”
“You believe I might murder you, yet your concern is your place of employment?”
“I hate inconveniencing my coworkers.”
“This is absurd.”
“I’ve been told.”
She reached the edge of the living room and bent to retrieve the blanket from the floor, tossing it over the back of the couch.
Loki followed more slowly, one hand briefly bracing against the table before he caught himself.
Y/N pretended not to see.
“I have more questions,” he said.
“I figured.”
“And matters I wish to discuss.”
She looked at him.
There was a strange insistence beneath the words. Not command, exactly. Something closer to reluctance, as though he had only just decided he wanted the conversation to continue and resented time for attempting to end it.
Y/N yawned.
“You seem like a talker.”
His expression tightened.
“I do not talk excessively.”
“You’ve interrogated me about my microwave, my job, college, why people put ice in drinks, and whether the mailman is an official agent of the government.”
“He wears a uniform and enters the grounds of every residence.”
“He delivers coupons.”
“A convenient explanation.”
Y/N smiled tiredly.
“My point stands.”
Loki folded his arms carefully, avoiding the bandage around his ribs.
“You dismiss me.”
“I’m postponing you.”
“You assume I will remain until you wake.”
She stopped.
The apartment fell quiet around them.
The first gray traces of morning had begun to appear through the blinds, striping the carpet and the side of Loki’s face with pale light.
Y/N looked at him for a moment.
There it was again.
That expectation hidden beneath the arrogance.
That everyone eventually left.
Or perhaps that he always did first.
She nodded toward the couch. “You said you can’t leave yet.”
“My circumstances may change.”
“Then they change.”
“And if I am gone?”
“I guess I’ll know you felt better.”
His eyes searched her face.
“You would not pursue me.”
“I don’t even know where Asgard is.”
“That would not prevent some.”
“I also have homework.”
Loki’s mouth flattened, but the answer seemed to settle something in him.
Y/N took another step toward the hallway.
He spoke before she could leave. “You have not answered.”
“Answered what?”
“Whether I may continue my questions.”
“When I’m awake.”
His eyes narrowed slightly.
“You expect me to wait.”
“I believe in you.”
The words came out so casually that Y/N almost missed the way he reacted.
Loki stared at her.
The guarded amusement vanished from his face.
“What did you say?”
“I said I believe in you.”
“You cannot.”
“Why not?”
“You have known me for only hours.”
“True.”
“You know nothing of my character, my history or my intentions.”
“Also true.”
“Then upon what do you base such belief?”
Y/N blinked at him.
“I believe you can wait until I wake up before asking more questions.”
Silence.
Loki’s face changed with the realization.
Y/N pressed her lips together. “Oh.”
He looked deeply offended. “You were not speaking of me.”
“I was speaking of you. Just in a very specific, low-stakes way.”
“You made it sound—”
“More meaningful?”
“I did not say that.”
“You thought I was giving you an emotional affirmation.”
“I thought no such thing.”
His answer came too quickly.
Y/N smiled despite her exhaustion.
“Sure.”
Loki’s jaw tightened.
She pointed at the couch.
“You can do it. A few hours without interrogating me. I believe in you.”
“You are insufferable.”
“You can tell me all about it when I wake up.”
She turned toward the hallway.
“Y/N.”
She glanced back.
Loki stood in the middle of her living room, half-dressed in damaged royal clothing, black thread visible along the seams she had repaired. The dawn light made him look less like a man who had fallen from the sky and more like something the night had reluctantly surrendered.
He seemed poised to ask another question.
Instead, he said, “How long?”
“How long what?”
“Will you sleep?”
Y/N glanced at the clock again.
“Hopefully until noon.”
His expression suggested that six hours was an unreasonable disappearance.
“You’ll survive.”
“That remains to be seen.”
She smiled. “See? You already understand my sense of humor.”
“I do not.”
“You will.”
Y/N continued toward her room.
At the door, she stopped and looked back one final time.
“Oh, and don’t use the stove.”
Loki lifted his chin. “I am not a child.”
“You stared at the toaster like it was going to challenge you to combat.”
“It made a sound without warning.”
“Exactly. No stove. I can’t afford another home.”
She stepped into her room. “And Loki?”
“What?”
“Thanks for not killing me tonight.”
His expression became unreadable.
“You presume restraint on my part—“
“Good night.”
Y/N closed the door before he could answer.
She did not lock it.
Loki remained where she had left him, staring at the thin wooden barrier between them.
A lock would not have stopped him.
They both knew that.
But she had not even tried.
From the other side of the door came the quiet creak of the mattress, the rustle of blankets and, after only a few minutes, silence.
Loki listened.
No hurried breathing.
No attempt to escape through the window.
No weapon being moved beneath a pillow.
She had simply gone to sleep.
He looked toward the front door.
He could not leave.
Not yet.
That was the only reason he remained.
Loki repeated this to himself as he returned to the couch and lowered himself carefully onto it.
The blanket Y/N had offered lay folded over the back. He regarded it with disdain before pulling it across his legs.
On the coffee table sat the glass of water she had prepared earlier, along with two white tablets and a note written on the back of a diner receipt.
For pain. Human dose, so maybe only take one. Please don’t die. I have work.
Loki read it twice.
Then a third time.
A faint, unwilling smile touched his mouth.
“You believe in me,” he murmured.
From the bedroom, Y/N gave a muffled snore.
Loki’s smile disappeared.
He settled deeper into the couch, prepared to wait until she woke.
He lasted eleven minutes before thinking of another question.
Loki lasted thirty minutes.
For the first ten, he sat upright on the couch with the blanket draped across his legs and his attention fixed on the closed bedroom door.
For the next five, he examined the objects scattered across the coffee table.
A stack of textbooks.
Several pens.
A half-empty package of gum.
The note she had left beside the tablets.
He read it once more, though there was nothing within it he had not already understood.
Crude.
Irreverent.
Strangely considerate.
Loki placed the note precisely where he had found it.
Beneath the coffee table, partly hidden by one of her discarded shoes, he found a small red ball. It was rubber, worn smooth in places and small enough to fit comfortably in his palm.
He leaned back against the couch and tossed it toward the ceiling.
The ball rose, slowed, then dropped neatly into his waiting hand.
Again.
Up.
Down.
Catch.
The rhythm occupied him for perhaps another seven minutes.
Then it became insulting.
Loki sent the ball higher, allowing it to nearly touch the ceiling before catching it without looking.
He had endured diplomatic councils that moved faster than this.
He had waited through Thor’s endless speeches, Odin’s silences and entire feasts during which no one said anything of worth. Yet somehow, waiting for one sleeping Midgardian to awaken felt uniquely unreasonable.
She had said noon.
He looked toward the clock.
Barely half an hour had passed.
Absurd.
Loki tossed the ball again.
Perhaps she was not asleep.
The thought arrived quietly.
He caught the ball.
Perhaps the entire display had been a deception.
She had been too calm. Too willing to leave him unattended. Too quick to accept his presence within her home.
No one behaved so carelessly without reason.
She might have retreated to the bedroom to contact someone through another device. She might be recording him. She might be waiting for armed men to arrive.
Midgard possessed organizations devoted to unusual threats. Loki knew enough of the realm to understand that much.
The woman had claimed her device could not reach anyone from the diner.
That did not mean the same was true here.
He glanced toward the narrow hallway.
The apartment remained silent.
Too silent.
Loki threw the ball once more and caught it with sharper force.
She may have been plotting against him from the moment she found him.
The skateboard could have been part of the indignity.
He placed the ball on the table.
Pain pulled beneath his ribs as he stood, but he ignored it. His strength had begun to return, though far more slowly than he would have preferred. The fall through the void had drained him in a way battle never had.
He crossed the living room without sound.
The bedroom door waited at the end of the hallway, closed but not secured.
No lock.
That, too, could have been deliberate.
An invitation designed to convince him she felt safe.
Or a test.
Loki rested his hand against the handle.
He listened.
Nothing.
No whispering.
No movement across the floor.
Only the faint hum of the air conditioner and a quiet, uneven breath from the other side.
He turned the handle slowly.
The door opened without a creak.
The room beyond was dim, lit only by the pale morning light slipping through the blinds. Clothes had been draped over the back of a chair. More books were piled beside the bed, one lying open facedown across the carpet.
A small lamp remained on.
Y/N was asleep.
Truly asleep.
She lay on her side beneath a tangled comforter, one hand tucked beneath her pillow while the other rested loosely against the mattress. Her hair had spread across the pillow in complete disarray, and the exhaustion that had been visible in her face earlier had softened into something peaceful.
There was no phone in her hand.
No weapon nearby.
No concealed accomplice waiting in the shadows.
She had told him she was going to sleep.
Then she had done exactly that.
Loki remained in the doorway.
The simplicity of it unsettled him more than deception might have.
She had been truthful from the moment he woke.
Painfully so.
She did not soften her answers to preserve his pride. She did not flatter him when he offered his titles. She admitted when she feared him and mocked him in the same breath.
She had not pretended that bringing him home was wise.
She had not claimed some noble destiny compelled her.
She had simply found him injured and decided not to leave him there.
Because she did not want bad karma.
Because she did not wish to be an asshole.
Loki nearly scoffed at the memory.
Nearly.
He stepped farther into the room.
Y/N did not stir.
She had no idea he stood there.
No awareness of how vulnerable she had made herself. One movement of his hand and he could silence her before she ever opened her eyes.
The thought brought no satisfaction.
Instead, Loki found himself noticing the faint crease between her brows, as though even in sleep some small concern followed her. The edge of the blanket had slipped from one shoulder, revealing the worn shirt she had changed into before bed.
There was nothing regal about her.
Nothing practiced.
No carefully arranged hair, jeweled gown or painted smile meant to secure favor.
She was simply herself, even when no one was meant to see.
Beautiful.
The word entered his mind without permission.
Loki’s expression tightened.
He looked away from her face.
That was foolish.
She was mortal. Ordinary. Exhausted from a night spent serving strangers and completing scholarly work in a roadside diner.
And yet—
He looked back.
There was something beautiful in the softness of her sleeping face.
More than that, in the honesty of it.
She had no mask.
No performance.
She had seen him injured, confused and stripped of every visible mark of rank, and she had still spoken to him as though he were neither monster nor king.
Only a man who needed help.
Loki disliked how much that pleased him.
Y/N shifted slightly beneath the covers.
He went still.
Her lips parted around a quiet breath. One hand moved across the mattress, searching absently until her fingers caught the edge of the comforter and pulled it closer.
She did not wake.
Loki released a breath through his nose.
He should leave her to rest.
Not because she had asked.
Certainly not because she had said she believed in him.
He simply had no further reason to remain in the doorway.
That was all.
Loki reached for the handle and began to draw the door closed.
Before it shut, Y/N murmured something into the pillow.
He paused.
The words were indistinct.
Then, more clearly—
“No stove.”
Loki stared at her.
She remained asleep.
His eyes narrowed.
Even unconscious, she apparently considered him incapable of navigating her crude cooking apparatus.
A faint smile threatened at the corner of his mouth.
“Insufferable creature,” he whispered.
He closed the door until only a narrow gap remained, leaving enough space for the light from the hallway to reach the room.
Then he returned to the living room.
The red ball still rested on the table.
Loki lowered himself carefully onto the couch and picked it up again.
This time, when he tossed it toward the ceiling, he did so more slowly.
It’s been a long time since I last updated my fics. I have worked on them, but college has been kicking my butt. There’s so many more fics I want to write as well. Life is lifing rn lol
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Okay look, its reasonable to make Law a medical student/surgeon in modern aus. But hear me out; kicked out of medical school Law OR fired and license revoked Law who works part time at some restaurant during the day, and by night he's doing surgery in his own basement at a cheaper rate than most hospitals or insurances. NOT out of the kindness of his heart, he just wants to perform surgery.
Honestly nobody is doing it like Trafalgar D. Water Law. He's German. He hates bread. He keeps to himself. He gravitates towards extroverts. He has a nasty reputation. He doesn't kill people during fights. His first appearance resembles Salad Fingers who smokes weed. He's weak to cute things and one of his best friends is a fluffy bear. His moniker is the Surgeon of Death because people thinks his power is creepy. He wants to become a doctor like his parents. He looks emo and edgy with his tattoos. The DEATH tattoo on his hand is the reminder he gave himself during childhood of what's at stake while treating patients, and the rest is to honor a loved one. He's stressed 24/7 like he's a workaholic. He spends all his time napping against his emotionally supportive bear and wandering to collect coins. He flips people off. He loves comics and geeks out amidst a battle. He's a smart strategist and he knows it. He has never talked down on anyone. He comes off as sadistic and dangerous. He never betrays his ally and gets bullied constantly by the crew of said ally. He wears tragedy like high fashion. At the lowest point in his life he finds out that he has always been loved and never been alone.
Previously: Y/n and Buggy find themselves back the cemetery in order to find the missing gemstone. They find it hidden in a chest underneath Kisha's temple. To their surprise, Kija followed them and snatched the gemstone from them and completed the amulet. With the power of the stone unleashed, Kija spreads havoc throughout the island.
Part 15: Survival of the Fittest
The wind howled as the sky grew dark. The forecast didn't predict a storm, but the weather outside says otherwise. Lyla looked worriedly out her window, not fond of the storm on its way.
"This looks nasty. I don't think we've ever had something like this before," she says, closing the curtain and turning to face her husband.
Walo nodded in agreement as he changes Yasi's bandages. The young man winced at the subtle touch of the bandages tightening around his torsos. The bleeding has stopped, but that doesn't mean the pain has either.
"Do you think Y/n is safe?" he asked.
Lyla sighed and backed away from the window. "I honestly don't know. There is something off about that pirate fellow, I'm not sure he can be trusted."
"I thought you were fine with it?" her husband replied, packing the first aid kit.
"I've changed my mind. This whole situation just says my gears spinning."
"Buggy wouldn't hurt her. My father on the other hand, well you see what his assassin did to me."
The couple gave him a sorry look. It must be difficult to know your father gave so little about your life. Yes, he has been a character to deal with, but the boy did not deserve this. Lyla sat on the couch where he laid at and rubbed his shoulder.
"Remember, you're not alone in this."
Heart-touched, Yasi's eyes watered as he tried to hold back his sobs. He wiped the small traces of tears and sniffled, "Thank you."
Thunder continued to roar through the sky. Hard thumps banged the roof of the house, the timing of the droplets fastened. Soon a downpour commenced. The three looked at the covered window that flashed with bright lights.
.°˖✧.°˖✧
Buggy honestly had no idea who he was up against. This man could have been beaten minutes ago, now, he’s not too sure. The wind ravaged against his face as he ran closer to the eye of the storm. The golden beam shooting up the sky got brighter by the second.
Was this really the power of the amulet? It’s astonishing.
The pirate now stands before the crumbled temple, looking for any signs of Kija.
“Come out you son of a bitch!”
Lightning strikes in the sky, followed by a loud boom. The clashing light revealed a dark shadow within the beam, disappearing as fast as it came. A small drop of water falls on his red nose. Buggy looks up at the sky, it begins to drizzle.
The sky continues to darken, with each rain drop becoming bigger than the last.
“I really had nothing against you,” a voice says.
Buggy looks around, not knowing where it came from, the thunder makes it hard to hear.
The beam in front of him slowly fades as the rain begins to pick up. A dark figure slowly descends from the air.
“That’s till you started middling with my plans,” the voice continues.
The light finally fades and darkness surrounds him. Another clash of lightning reveals Kija standing on the top of the pile of rubble. Buggy secured his stance.
“What are you? Zeus?” the pirate mocks.
Kija smirks. “I’ll be more than a god,” he boasts.
He wraps his hand around the amulet, activating the gemstone. Powerful sparks emerge around him, spiking into the air. The electric bolts spread outward, striking everything in its radius. One hits a gravestone, bowing it up immediately. The blown-up ground throws soil into the air, some specs landing of Buggy.
Shocked by the power, Buggy widened his eyes and stared back at Kija.
“Give me the girl and I might let you live,” he demands.
Buggy grits his teeth. “Over my dead body.”
Kija fakely sighs, “Very well.”
His hand grips the amulet, making it glow brightly, his eyes too shined an amber color. He charges the power and gathers the energy around him to strike a lightning bolt right at Buggy. Instinctively, his body parts fly away from the target point. The hair on skin sticks up from the electric charge; though, it could also be from fear.
Buggy had no idea how he dodged it, but he knows he wouldn’t be so lucky the next time.
Lightning bolts continue to strike the ground, sparking fires wherever they would land. The heat of the bolt is intense, enough to make his face paint drip down to his chin. There was no time to think about such matters as he twirled and flipped across the open field. Body parts scattered and reattached, hoping not to be hit by the mass voltage. Before he could realize, he was stuck within a blazing death trap.
Lightning bolts were strategically placed to form the scorching ring. Sweat heavily drips down the pirate's forehead, both from the rising heat and fear. Kija was about to send another lightning bolt, but suddenly stops.
"You know what?" he says.
Buggy only looks at him puzzled.
"Let me add more to your torture." He smirks and flies over the ring of fire.
"You can fly?" Buggy shouts in irritation. His head follows Kija flying over him and he quickly realizes the situation-- he's going after Y/n. He balls his fist knowing that the only way to catch him is to go through the fire, in theory he could also fly, but someone has to hold his feet. The walls around him don't seem that high but getting burned in guaranteed. It is a risk he's willing to take.
His legs start to tremble as he moves to one side of the circle. The only way to make it over is to get momentum. He closes his eyes, regretting not killing Kija in the first place, but he finds courage to have a chance to have his head. He takes a deep breath and opens his eyes, with a loud sigh, he begins to run at full speed.
He sprints right towards the flames and shuts his eyes, hoping that his calculation is correct. Feeling like his heart is ready to pop, he jumps over the raging fire. The tip of the flames slightly grazes his pants, just enough to not melt the leather fabric. What felt like minutes, Buggy makes it over the fire and thumps onto the ground.
"Ah, shit," he groans.
He quickly recovers from the fall and looks at the forest in front of him. Kija is moving fast and will shortly reach Y/n due to her circumstances. With all his might he dashes into the woods, hoping to reach them in time.
Meanwhile, Y/n moves in a steady pace. She holds her leaking wound as she uses the trunk of the trees for support. With the night and cloudy sky, the visibility is low. At this point, she's only focused on moving forward, not caring if she finds herself lost.
Despite the adrenaline flowing through her body, the stab wound is becoming unbearable. Her breathing is no longer effective, it is rapid and profound. A sudden wave of panic hits her, only escalating the hyperventilation. She could feel a pit in her stomach followed by a sense of dread. Her legs stumble as she now freezes by the overwhelming thumping of her heart.
Struck by an intense fear, the loud thumps of her heart hide the gushing sound of wind heading her way. Before she could realize about the danger she is in, a bolt of lightning flies her way.
Her life flashes before her eyes as the white light charges at her, she shuts her eyes close by reflex and waits for the hot strike. To her luck, it lands meters away, but the electricity is strong enough to zap her body. The force of the energy shoves her body hard and straight to the ground. Ringing emits from her ears, adding to her state of confusion.
Kija walks over to Y/n with a large grin on his face. He is absolutely adorable stocked. He grabs her by the collar of her shirt and nears his face to her left ear. "Are you ready to become the little sacrificial lamb?" he chuckles.
Y/n trembles in fear. Her body has become limp.
Could this really be it?
Kija digs in his pocket to grab a small knife. "I'm not wasting anymore time. Immortality will be mine!"
Feeling useless, Y/n accepts death. As she closes her eyes, she remembers that she too has a knife. Buggy shoved one of his blades into her pants' pocket. Tempted to grab it, she hesitates. She's lost a blood, making her weak. Death seems near; regardless, dying from blood lost will be agonizing. Getting it over with appears to be the best choice.
Her mind begins to slip, almost like it knows about the incoming fate. Drifting to a state of peace, she let's go, waiting for the piercing stab to her heart and everything goes silent.
"Y/n, wake up!"
The abrupt voice frightens her awake. Her eyes pop wide open and she immediately reaches for the hidden knife. In a swift movement, she stabs Kija in the shoulder. He yelps at the sudden pain, dropping Y/n to the ground.
Getting a grip, Y/n stands up and focuses on the situation. If she dies, it will be on her own hands, she will not give him the pleasure of getting immortality.
"You bitch!" he shouts, trying to yank the knife out of his shoulder.
With the will to live, Y/n takes this chance to kick him to the ground and make a run for it. Kija lands on top of the knife, making him wale in agony. Thunder roared across the darkened sky as rain began to fall once more. Using the sudden flashes of light, Y/n runs with all her might, running deeper into the unknown.
Angered by the predicament, Kija takes out the knife and licks the blood off. He grips the blade portion tightly, making his hand bleed intentionally. A grin plasters on his face and begins to charge right after her.
Lightning bolts become more frequent, seemingly catching up to her. That's when strikes of lighting continuously aim for the ground. Each one is closer than the last. Though, none of them do reach her.
Y/n looks closer ahead and a bright redish specs float in the air. They increase and the smell of smoke is picked up. She suddenly stops, in front of her stands a rapid fire. It blocks her way, she looks left and right, it only seems to rage in both directions.
She stumbles to take a step back and when she turns, Kija was right behind her. He punches her in the gut, making her fall instantly. Y/n coughs out blood, holding her abdomen as the intense pain spread throughout her body.
“I’ve had enough you!” Kija, furious, holds the knife tightly in hands. He walks closer, fiddling the handle and holds a sinister smile.
He grabs a fistful of her hair and pulls her body with it. Y/n cries in pain, trying to release his hands from her hair, but it is no use. She’s exhausted, the wounds have taken a toll from her body.
“I want to hear you gurgle to your death!” he laughs.
Kija then reels his arm back, holding the knife steady. Y/n desperately wiggled, trying to break free, terrified to die. She wails, her hot tears dripping down her smudged face, there is nothing she can do. She shuts her eyes, waiting for Kija to end it once and for all.
Her heart pumps at an accelerated rate. The forced thumps become louder and louder, enough for the sound to become unbearable. Soon, it becomes too loud to focus and a vibrant pitch rings around her. Darkness begins to consume her as her body starts to shut down from the overwhelming stress. Within that darkness, light emerges.
It was in that moment that something possessed her. A massive amount of energy built up inside her core, taking over her body and mind. For a brief moment, her body went limp and suddenly regained control. Kija was shocked, something in Y/n has changed, it's almost like she has become a different person. This aura he feels is not from her, but of someone else.
"Abask," Y/n calls. Except it did not sound like her, but a deep enrich voice of another woman.
A chill runs down his spine as he notices Y/n's eyes are pitch black.
"Your people have caused trouble generation after generation. It will all end here."
Sweat drips from his forehead at the threat. His hands shake at the mysterious woman's voice. Who could it be? He thinks for a brief moment, that woman. . . it could only be. . . his hands stop shaking. It is no time for cowardness. This is the woman he always wanted to take his anger out on.
"Well, I guess I am a lucky man, Kisha. It is an honor to be in your presence." He grins, flashing all his pearly whites.
"The feeling is not mutual. I will stop this madness at once," Kisha's voice booms.
Again, the voice shakes the ground, the flames that engulf the land flicker ever so violently. It is hot, steaming hot, Kija is quivering in his shoes.
"You're wrong. The Abasks will prevail. You will be the one going down." With clenched fists, he moves to an offensive position, upsizing the possessed woman. "You ancient wrench, begone!" Holding onto the amulet, he summons a large electric charge from the sky and sends a high-voltage bolt down on her.
The lightning bolt strikes the grown with might, he's sure that he didn't miss. The ash arising in the air is proof of his victory, but he is wrong. With the ash settling down, the woman stands untouched, her face filled with fury.
"You fool! How dare you use the sea king's power!"
Her hands lift up the sky as everything around them trembles. The strong shake throws him off his feet. The necklace lifts off his neck, he tries to keep it on, but the unknown force breaks the chains off his body. The amulet goes flying towards Y/n, who instantly.
Kija growls, "You may have the stone, but I still possess its powers. You don't have chance against me."
Kisha smirks. The light that once surrounded Kija, begins to be sucked away by the stone and fast.
"W-what are you doing?"
"Taking back what never belonged to us."
"N-no! Are you crazy?!" He frantically tries to grab the wispy light, but it is no use, they are made of untouchable wavelengths.
It didn't take long before Kija was drained from every last drop of the mystical light. He is now an empty pathetic shell. Kisha holds the amulet in one hand and maintains the energic light within the stone. She begins to charge it up once again and points it at the man.
"This is goodbye. May hell treat you right."
Kija's life flashes before him, a fierce blast of energy his heading towards him and there is nothing he could do. He sits there, like a deer in headlights as the hot beam charges right at him. It then hits him, sending him flying across the land. Surely, ending his life. At the same time, the stone breaks, no longer withstanding the immense power of the blast. Now, no one will be able to use it for evil.
"Y/n my time on this world is done. I leave it to you now, my child."
Kisha's voice fades away and Y/n's body drops to the ground. Her head spins as she gains consciousness and mobility of her limbs. It is silent, only the raging cracks and pops of the fire are heard. She opens her eyes and blinks rapidly to fan out the small tears. As she goes to sit up, a sharp pain is felt on her left palm. A wet feeling soon takes its place. She takes a look at her hand and small fragments of the gemstone are penetrated in her palm.
Y/n is confused at first, but quickly realizes what happened. Kisha managed to destroy it. Her thoughts trace back to Kija, what happened to him? He was standing not too far from where she resides, she has no idea what her ancestor did, but one thing for sure, he is no longer a problem.
"Y/n!"
Coming from behind is Buggy. He leaps through the flames and embraces his woman.
"I honestly thought I lost you. I'm glad you're safe." He pulls from the hug to take a look at her face. His eyes then trail to her hand that she holds. Blood stains it. "What happened to you?"
"It was weird. I was cornered by Kija when I suddenly became possessed by Kisha. I have no idea what happened between the two, but the stone is no more, and Kija is nowhere to be found."
Buggy takes out a small handkerchief from his vest and gently wipes the blood on her palm. "That's too bad. It would have been cool to have the amulet," he says in disappointment.
Y/n begins to chuckle. "Yeah, you only want it to terrorize my hometown."
"I wasn't going to, I promise," he jokingly scoffs.
"Fine, I believe you,"— she sighs— "Take me home, it's been a long night."
As they head to leave, sound of gunshots halt their steps.
"What?" Y/n gasps.
Buggy shields her injured body. "No fucking way. How did he survive that blast!?"
"I-I don't know," her lips quivered.
Then, bullets come flying towards their direction, hitting Buggy in the process. Buggy falls back to the ground, he groans holding his right arm. "Shit,"— he rolls to his side— "Sea stone? He had that the whole time?" He continues to grit his teeth as his body becomes sluggish.
"Oh my god, are you okay!?" Y/n runs to his side, trying to see the bullet wound.
"I'll be fine, you need to get out of here."
"I can't just leave—"
Another round of bullets dangerously aims at her. She ducks and frantically tries to locate Kija.
Not too far from the distance, Kija slowly limps towards them. He points the gun right at them, struggling to maintain his broke arm up. The man in unrecognizable. His charred skin smokes from the cooking heat and his black face is practically melting.
"Look at what you've done to me," he cries. His hand shakes, barely keeping the barrel upright.
Y/n covers her mouth from shock, utterly disgusted by his nasty form.
Continuing his struggle to walk, he stumbles and falls to the ground. He screams from agonzing pain and cries, though, tears are no longer able to form.
"Get the gun!" Buggy orders.
Y/n hesitates at first, but quickly runs over and snatches the gun from the ground. Out of fear, she points it right at him.
The burnt man curls into a ball and holds his arms out in attempt to cover himself. He whimpers and trembles. Unsure on what to do, Y/n freezes.
“Finish him!”
Y/n looks back at Buggy, he tries to get up, but the sea stone is buried deep within his skin. “Come on! What are you waiting for?!”
“Y-you don’t mean. . .” She whips her head back to the man, who struggles to move. With much effort, he managed to get on his knees and looks directly into her eyes.
Kija pathetically pleads on his knees. "Please, have mercy,”— he sobs— "I can no longer help myself."
Y/n trembles, her hands vigorously shake as she points the gun at the burnt man. Despite everything he's done, she is not able to kill him. Who is she take someone's life?
"He's lying to you!" Buggy digs into the wound in his arm and pulls the buried bullet out of his skin. "Y/n, do it!" he groans in the mixed pain.
"I-I can't," she sobs, barely holding onto the gun.
The pirate knows this tactic very well. Kija is waiting for her to lose her guard and take the gun from her hands. Why does she have to have a chicken's heart? Sympathy will kill her. With the bullet out of his arm, he slowly regains his strength.
"If you're not going to shoot him, then I will," he shouts and runs towards her, but she has already lost her guard.
As she lowers the gun, Kija take this opportunity to lunge at her. "You stupid bitch!" And at the moment she accidently pulls the trigger, shooting him in the forehead.
The shot echoes and with the thud of Kija's lifeless body, an awful silence follows. Blood is splattered over her clothes and skin; an uncomfortable warmth surrounds her as the hot liquid stains everything it touches.
She drops the gun and falls on her knees. "No. . . what have I done?"
Buggy pauses for a brief moment, disgusted by the vivid hole on his head. He walks next to her and grabs her hand. "See, I knew you could it. You killed your first person. There will be many more to come." He pats her back, his hand is heavy and rough, where did that gentle touch go?
Y/n continued to stare at Kija.
Buggy realized this is the first time she's seen gore and death. With time, she'll get over it. He knows that staying will only make it worse.
"We're done here. Let's get my crew back." He gives her one last pat, his way of trying to comfort her. As he pivots to head to the gate, Y/n does not follow. She sits on her knees, a look of despair is expressed, as her hands shake in shock.
"Y/n?" Buggy calls out, slowly approaching her.
"I killed Yasi's father. . . " she sobs quietly.
Buggy wanted to roll his eyes, Kija has done worse, there is no point to cry over his death. Still, he knows that her fragile heart wouldn't handle his blunt remarks.
"Come on, you're still pretty injured." He picks her up bridal style and holds her head in place with his hand. "It was either him or you. No need to make yourself the victim here."
She laid her chin on his shoulder, looking back at Kija's dead body as Buggy walked to the cemetery's gate. Death was not the answer. He was done for and could have been taken custody.
"We could have taken him alive."
Buggy lets out a loud cackle. "Darling, I would have killed him either way. There was no way I was going to let him live after what he did to you. I think it was a nice ending to this story, he ended your parents' life and now you ended his. You'll make a fine pirate in my crew."
Y/n wanted to mock his words. She never wanted to have blood on her hands. To him, blood was nothing, it's as if he soiled himself with water. She continued to sit in front of Mr. Abask's body. She's killed Yasi's father, what will she tell him? That she murdered her father?
Yes, she did. She murdered this man and became what she despised the most. It made her sick to her stomach. She knew that this is a pirate's way of life, and she knew it from the very beginning. Buggy. . . a prime example of the merciless character of a pirate.
As Kija's body became smaller and smaller, tears dripped from her redden eyes. Her hands tighten around Buggy's jacket, angry that she falsely believed in her fantasy.
"What if I don't want to be in your crew?" she whispered to herself, closing her eyes as more tears drenched her face.
To those who read my fics, I will continue to update. I won’t be one of those authors who abandons their fics. It will take longer than usual since I have a lot on my plate. Working on multiple fics is not easy when you’re balancing college, work, and other things. I’m working on the next chapters and hopefully I can post them asap! Thank you for all of those who support my work. I will find a way to complete them :)
Luffy’s nostrils twitched at the aroma in the air. His eyes pop wide open as his stomach begins to grumble from the unknown smell. He rises from his slumber and finds himself sitting on a bed.
"Where am I?" he mumbles to himself.
He yawns, stretching his tight muscles and looks around the dark room. It seems to be the Royal Palace, did Doflamingo capture them? No, he won. Questions begin to pop in his mind as he sees another bed in front of him. A visible lump on the bed shifts underneath the blankets. It appears he's not alone.
Luffy removes the sheets over him and makes his way over to the other side of the room. Whoever is under the blankets is curled like a ball. He proceeds to remove the blanket and to his surprise, it’s Law. The vampire sleeps peacefully, hugging a pillow tightly.
"Torao," Luffy whispers, shaking his arm gently.
Law begins to open his eyelids, revealing his stunning golden orbs. His vision becomes more focused and his met with the grin of his mate.
"Mugi?" he groans, holding his head. "W-what happened?"
The younger pirate furrows his eyebrows, he too confused at the state they're in. "I dunno. I'm just glad to have my hat and that you're here with me," he smiles, pressing on his straw hat. Then, another random whiff of that delicious aroma goes under his nostrils once more, cranking his hunger. "Come on, get up. We have to find out what smells so good!"
He yanks the older's right arm, but Law cries out in pain.
"Ahh!" he screams.
Luffy immediately let's go and is shocked at the sudden wails from his mate. "Oh, sorry. . . I didn't mean to hurt you," guilt present in his voice.
Law grips on his upper arm, there's bandages, and blood is still fresh. His memories resurface from the day before. The whole fight with Doflamingo, he passed out during the battle, he swore he had died. Now, he's alive and his arm is reattached to his body. Most importantly, this mean Luffy defeated Doflamingo.
"M-my arm, how is it back on me?" he questions, looking at his mate.
"Oh, that. I found your crew and they stitched you right back up. I honestly thought you died on me there," he grins.
"How can you say that so lightly?" Law sighs, rolling his eyes.
The vampire removes his blanket and reveals the bandages that cover his body. He attempts to move his limbs, but his body feels like it has been in a wreck. "You have more injuries than me, how come you are up?"
Luffy only shrugs. "I guess I just a good night's sleep."
"Unbelievable,"— he sighs again— "you're truly remarkable Luffy-ya."
The younger blushes and scratches the back of his head. "Ya think so? I only won because of you."
"Don't make me laugh Mugi. That was all you. You're much stronger than me. . ." his voice mumbles at the end. He grips the bed sheets and looks out the window. "You know. . . I was supposed to be one saving you."
"What do you mean Torao? You're pretty strong too."
Frustrated, Law shifts his whole body to the side. "Y-you just don't get it."
Luffy looks concern and sits next to him, gently rubbing his stitched arm. He can feel his muscles tense under the bandages.
“Tell me. What’s wrong?”
Law looks at him by the corner of his eyes, hesitant to speak. Luffy goes to press on his arm, ever so gently, darkening his gaze. The tension in the room rises as the silence continues. Then, Law finally breaks the silence.
“I-I wanted to be the one to protect you,”— he lowers his head— “not the other way around.”
The grip loosens on the vampire’s arm.
“Torao, there’s nothing wrong with that.”
A small huff comes out of the vampire’s mouth. He grits his teeth, displeased at the reality of the situation. The truth is, he is angry that he is weaker than his mate; after all, he is the “dom.”
“Stop sulking,” his young mate pouts.
“You would you still be with me if I’m weak?”
Luffy rolls his eyes and swiftly embraces the older in his arms. Law winces at the sudden rough touch, his body sore from the previous beating. He avoids the human’s gaze, still ashamed at the predicament, but Luffy cusps his face. They lock eyes, one pair showing devoting love and the other beaming with self-loathing.
“We’re not doing this again.” Luffy kisses the tears unbeknownst to Law. The vampire quickly wipes them off, but the human stops him. “It’s okay to be weak. I will always love you. You shouldn’t be ashamed, even if I am stronger, I will always submit to you,” he says softly, pecking Law’s lips.
Luffy gives him a small smile. "Though, I'm not sure we have the same definition of submitting," he chuckles slightly.
The vampire scoffs with a giggle. "You sure about that?"
"Well, at the moment you can barely move. So, who do you think is in control?" he teases. Law tries to move his arm to grab Luffy's throat, but a sharp pain stops him.
Luffy laughs at his failed attempt. "See. Anyway, let's get going, I'm starving." He dashes out the room with his damsel in distress and follows the lingering scent.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖౨ৎ.𖥔 ݁ ˖-`♡´-.𖥔 ݁ ˖౨ৎ.𖥔
The scrumptious aroma that intrigued Luffy happened to be a banquet made for their crews' bravery. The king of Dressrosa wanted to feed his saviors. Local cuisines filled the tabletop alongside with high-quality aged wines and other non-alcoholic beverages.
Luffy was angry at first, that no one woke him up to enjoy the food the king has offered. That feeling quickly faded once Sanji showed him the large T-bone steak and various meats cooked to perfection. Everyone ate, laughed, drank, and some shed a few tears. At the end of the banquet, everyone began to disperse to walk off the huge meal they ate. Luffy rubbed his enlarged belly and was about to grab the last cookie on the platter when someone called his name.
“Luffy-ya, follow me," Law whispered from behind.
The straw hat whipped his head, dropping the cookie back on the platter. “Huh, where to?”
“There’s something I want to show you.”
“Oh, okay!” He gets up from his chair and happily follows after the vampire. "Wait, can you walk on your own?"
"I'm fine, let's go before someone bothers us."
The two men leave the dining hall and exit to the large hallways of the palace. Law leads Luffy to the lower levels, going deeper and deeper into the non-populated sections. After going through multiple turns and descends, Law stops in front of a red door.
"We're here."
Law twists the doorknob and opens the strange door, it creaks, revealing a dim-lit room. Something about this felt like DeJa'Vu to Luffy, almost like he experienced this before. He brushed the feeling off and stepped inside. Once inside, candles lit around the area showing rows of books on shelves.
“So, what is this place?” Luffy cocks his head, eyes trailing to the intricate designs of the shelves and surrounding furniture.
“This is Doflamingo’s side of the castle. He renovated the place to add a sense of home. I guess the celestial dragons had a dark taste in architecture.”
“You mean vampirey?”
“Yes, that. I hate to admit it, but the dark vibe is comforting. I’ve only been here a few times. . . I wonder if he still has that room. . .”
"What room?"
The vampire dismisses the question. "Don't worry about it. I think it's too obscene for what I'm planning. . ." Silence follows shortly after. Recollecting his thoughts, Law walks up to one of the bookshelves. “I used to read here. There are so many books about the human body.”
Luffy takes a peek at the book Law holds open. "Oh. . ." His eyes focused on the sketched drawing of the human heart and its realistic dissection.
"The human body is beautiful, isn't it Mugi?" The vampire's golden eyes stare back at the human's dark ones. It is a tense feeling, making Luffy gulp.
Law closes the book and places it back on the shelf. “I grabbed these from the kitchen.” He pulls out a rectangular item from his jacket, a box of chocolates.
“They’re fine chocolates with cherry filling. I know you mentioned that you don’t like cherry pie, but this is different.”
“Hmm, that’s okay. I don’t think it should taste that bad.” Luff shrugs.
The vampire walks over to the middle of the small room where an antique chaise lounge couch is located at. Law goes to sit near the rolled arm of the black leather couch, patting the spot next to him. Getting the signal, Luffy follows after him and takes a seat at the old sofa. Law then hands him the box of chocolates and gets up to light the candles around them. When he returns, his mate has already devoured half the box.
Law smacks him. “Don’t eat them all!”
Luffy winces at the slight pain on his wrist and pouts, throwing the candy wrappers onto the floor.
"Don't make that face. Anyway, scoot closer," the vampire commands.
Law grabs one of the chocolates and unwraps it. He places it in his mouth, biting it in place. He moves his head forward and grabs Luffy by the back of his head, he pushes their heads together, feeding it to Luffy. The red filling ruptures inside their mouths, covering their tongues with the delicious taste of cherry. The kiss ends in a pop as both slurp the sugary treat down their throats.
Luffy is too stunned to move. Flustered by the action, his face reddens from the erotic kiss. Law only smirks at his reaction. He goes to wipe the small brown stain besides his mate's lower lip, his thumb runs over his pink lip, gently rubbing the smooth skin. Luffy doesn't break eye contact with him, his heart fluttering at every gesture.
"What? Cat got your tongue?" the vampire teases, cupping his face.
The younger shyly looks away, but Law quickly turns his head back. His half-lidded golden eyes spark a tingly sensation down Luffy's groin. The rapid blood rush is not unnoticed as Law gropes the growing bulge.
"Do you want another taste?" he sultry whispers, staring into his lovely doe eyes.
Luffy doesn't responds at first, hypnotized by his lustful gaze, but slowly nods his head as his answer. Law grabs another chocolate from the box and again places it between his teeth. He leans forward and pushes the candy inside Luffy's mouth. This time, the sticky filling runs down their lips, making a mess as it drips. Law licks any remaining syrup off his mate's face, making sure to leave his skin clean. Before Luffy could register anything else, Law shoves his tongue down his throat.
The vampire holds his head with both hands, pressing their faces firmly together. Their tongues swirl against each other, the soft muscles gliding smoothly across one another.
To caught up in the kiss, Law falls back, placing Luffy ontop of him. He grunts at the sudden weight; his injured body still tender from his fight. The kiss stops as Luffy becomes weary from the look of pain in Law's face.
"Are you okay, I should get off."
"No, it's fine,” he huffs out, holding Luffy in place. His hands run down to his hips, adjusting him on his crotch.
"I was thinking. . ."— he looks at him— "let's change it up for once."
Luffy raises his brows in curiosity. "Hmm, how come?"
"I want you to be on top of me tonight. After all, my body is not in the best condition to plow your fine ass," he says, smacking his bottom.
"Ride me. Your way."
Oh that sparked something devious inside of Luffy. He smirks. "My way?"— his weight presses against Law's crotch— "Fine, I'll make you regret that."
"Bring it on," Law taunts.
Luffy immediately lean over, dropping his torso over Law’s hard built abs. His face is only centimeters away from the older, enough for their lips to touch, but the boop of their noses impede it. Their breaths are heavy and warm, a cocky smiles plasters on the younger’s face.
He carefully avoids touching lips, sliding himself down to the vampire’s neck. A small peck is given near his Adam’s apple and more follow down to his chest. Luffy unbuttons the shirt as he works his way down his abdomen. He’s careful to avoid his injuries, trying not to mess with the bandages.
Law tightens his core, loving the fluttering touch of his mate’s pretty lips on his skin. The wet kisses trail down further, closing in on his navel and soon, dangerously close to his v-line. The hair underneath Law's bellybutton tickle Luffy's lips, the soft fluff of hair guides him to the seam of the pants. Using his mouth, Luffy unbuttons the pants and drags the zipper down, revealing the boxers underneath.
The bulge under the cotton cloth is ready to pop. With a seductive look, Luffy looks at Law for a brief moment and dives back down, bitting the seam of the boxers. He pulls them down in a swift movement and the erect member springs right out. The cold air makes the vampire hitch.
"Oh, squeamish aren't you?" Luffy chuckles.
"S-shut up and suck me already." Law grabs the back of his head and attempts to push him down, but Luffy doesn't budge.
The younger ticks his tongue and shakes his head in disappointment. "I thought we were doing this my way." He looks at him, with a cunning grin, and wraps his hand around veiny member. The vampire groans as the grip tightens around his needy shaft. "You're too injured to fight back. This will be fun, wouldn't it?"
Law continued to breathe heavily. Cleary, he has made a mistake. The tone of his lover's voice hints of a suspicious plan. Whatever it is, he knows he is not ready for it.
Satisfied by the vampire's submission, Luffy proceeds to slowly jerk him off.
The vampire knew he was toying with him. He bites his lip, watching the human play with his dry and painful erection. "Luffy-ya," he huffs in desperation.
Luffy rolls his eyes. "You can't wait, huh? Fine, I'll give you what you want."
Holding the shaft steady, he nears his face to the glistening pink tip. His tongue steadily slides over the pre-cum layer on the small slit. Law becomes tense at the touch as his dick begins to pulsate. The teasing continues with every kitten lick over the oozing slit. Law's flushed face turns Luffy on, making him eager to take more of his needy erection.
Having enough of the little game, Luffy suddenly bobbles down on the enlarged cock.
"Oh fuck," Law moans out, dropping his head back.
When it came to giving head, Luffy is another level. His unfathomable hunger has no limits, he takes him whole, leaving no area untouched. It was incredible, feeling his cock hit the deepest part of his mate's throat. In all honesty, he could cum at any given moment, but that would only ruin the fun. Though, Luffy is making it hard to resist.
Luffy fondles his balls as his mouth works it magic. His tongue glides past his thick veins and around the shaft. He holds back his tears, to the point where he stretches his throat to take in more the girthy dick. One could say he was cheating, but why make it harder on yourself. He continues to suck the throbbing cock, making sure to jerk him off at the base while simultaneously deep throating him.
"Luffy, oh— don't stop."
The vampire's moans were music to his ears. Hearing his deep and pleading voice sent an electric flutter in his stomach and into his lower region.
His loud slurps fill the room as he makes a mess, saliva pooling at the bottom of the dick. Law loved the sloppy mess that he would leave, beautifully lubricating his erection. Each bob tightens his core, being sent to a blissful state when his tip touched the back of his throat. It's to the point where the feeling becomes unbearable, and a wrenching buildup arises.
Law's breaths are more profound than before. His mind is gone, only thinking about the pleasurable state that he is in. Luffy bobs his head faster, knowing that Law's orgasm is close. He works diligently, taking his member whole. Many would think that it is a tiring task, but to him, it was a game. To see how long it would take for his lover to paint his tongue clear white. He loved every second of it, the taste of his salty skin, the girth, the gagging feeling in his throat, and most importantly, the screaming of his name.
Shortly after, Law takes a deep breath in and tries to thrust in his mouth. He wines, calling out his name as he spills his cum into his abused mouth. Luffy has won his little game, and is satisfied with his prize.
"Luffy,"— Law pants— "I-I think I'm done."
The human wipes his mouth, already finished swallowing his seed, and gives him a malicious smile. "Done? We're just getting started."
"Wh-"
Before the vampire could speak, Luffy pounced on him and attacked his chapped lips. The kiss deepens, the two entangling themselves, feeling up on one another. Luffy breaks free from the surprise kiss, a trail of saliva still connecting each other, and takes a moment to breathe. He gives him a smug look, wiping his mouth, and chuckles.
Law is taken aback and doesn't mutter a word. Luffy sits on his torso, careful not to sit on his wounds, and looks behind him. The erect member stands proudly behind his ass, Luffy slowly pushes himself against it, smiling back at him.
"So that was your plan, huh?" he hitches.
Luffy smiles. "Maybe."
He then proceeds to slide back, almost crushing the soft genital, enough for Law to wince at the slight pain.
"Careful, that hurts you know."
The younger only laughs. "Yeah, yeah, you'll be alright." He stops and sits right before the member. His hands make way to his shorts and slides them down his legs, along with his briefs.
His own cock stands up, just grazing over Law's. The feeling is soothing, both of their blood-filled erections touching, it only agitated them more. Not wanting to wait any longer, Luffy lifts himself with his legs, aligning himself over Law's aching cock. Though he is not prepped, his devil fruit helps him with that issue. Now over the member, Luffy slowly lets himself sink onto Law's thick cock.
"Fuck—" Law throws his head back, tightly grabbing onto Luffy's thighs, feeling himself be sucked in. Due to his devil fruit, his grip and tightness were on another level. Law didn't know if he should feel blessed or not; regardless, the pleasure is immense.
Luffy finally sinks down to the base of the shaft to where his balls touch his bottom's skin. He lifts his ass up and immediately lets it go back down, not caring for his roughness. His hands trail to the vampire's biceps, holding them for support as he rides the hard cock. The feeling is amazing, having control on how hard the tip hits his g-spot, it is an electrifying sensation jolting through his body.
Law could only moan nonsense as he is fucked to oblivion. The tight hole takes him well, giving a nice pressure around his throbbing dick.
"Shit, you feel fucking amazing," Law moaned through pants, watching Luffy bounce on his thick cock.
Luffy was beginning to lose himself, as his own cock throbbed with pleasure. Each hit to his g-spot drove him crazy, wanting nothing more than to be filled with the vampire's hot seed. His eyes rolled back as his riding became sloppy. Law finally had the strength to take some sort of measure of the situation, using his grip on Luffy's hips to add assistance.
The vampire's hands trail to the human's ass, guiding him to ride his erection. The two match their breathing, loving the good fuck in the secluded room. Just the two of them, fucking to their hearts content. Law couldn't hold back and even through the pain, he bucked his hips up, hitting Luffy's g-spot hard.
"Ah—" Luffy yelps at the sudden force. His body falls forward, but he holds himself up over Law's shoulders. He stops riding him and let's Law fuck him to this own pace— fast.
Law plowed him well, making sure that his abused cock his milked by Luffy's tight ass. It was like a vacuum, the grip impeccable and strong. He feels his core tighten once more, knowing that he is about reach another orgasm. He holds Luffy dear, pulling his hair for their faces to meet. They kiss, moaning in each other's mouths.
Law pulls away for a moment, fastening his face and repeatedly moaning out, "I love you."
"I-I love you too," Luffy manages to say, cum spilling on Law’s chest,
With one more thrust, Law finally came, shooting his hot cum into the beaten hole. The exhausted human falls on top of the other, satisfied with the good fuck.
"I-I'm knocking out," Luffy wines.
Law, who is sucked dry, barely opens his eyes. "You're one to talk," he heaves, trying to clean the white liquid over his abdomen.
Luffy stretches his arm to grab a tissue from the other side of the room and hands it to Law. “Sorry about that, I couldn’t hold it back,” he mumbles, nuzzling his face on the crook of his neck,
Happily, Law embraces the smaller male, trailing his hands over his drowsy face. "Good night Mugi, sleep tight." He kisses his forehead and watches him drift to sleep.
He stays awake, hearing the soothing flicks of the candles in the room. Tomorrow they will depart once again. Another dangerous scheme lies ahead of them, maybe more life threatening than Doflamingo, but's that is future him problem. Right now, all he wants to do is to keep his little human in his arms.
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Previously: Trapped in a cage, Kija finally revealed the truth about the island's history and her heritage. For that very reason, Y/n's life is in danger as he plans to sacrifice her for immortality. Buggy managed to find her and are now in a race to obtain the gemstone before Kija.
Part 14: Unleashed
The time is ticking. Obtaining the gemstone is a matter of life or death.
The couple finally make it the cemetery. The ambience is thick and cold. Most importantly, it feels like they're being watch. Could he. . . no, he shouldn't be tracking them. Y/n shook that thought, they're in a graveyard, maybe the spirits are around. Though, she should be able to see them.
"Hello, are you listening to me?"
Buggy waves his hand over her face. "Hello, Earth to Y/n."
Y/n shakes her head and stares right back at the pirate.
"Oh, sorry. . . I was dozing off. . ."
"Seriously? There's no time for that. Anyway, we're here."
They stand in front of the massive gravestone or temple to be exact. Buggy is right, there is no time to space out. Pushing her thoughts in the back of her mind, she walks inside. The place is as dusty as ever, she runs her fingers through the soot that covers the wall. She continues to look around the walls of the room for any signs of the gemstone. Y/n comes across the picture of the cross. It is engraved in and has similar proportions as the one on the necklace.
"Buggy, give me the necklace."
He complies, he digs under his vest and takes it off. She then places the cross over the engraving and presses against the wall. The small section goes in, and clacking sounds are heard as the small temple shakes. An opening underground is revealed.
“Great, another tunnel,” Y/n sighs.
Buggy looks down at the opening, it is dark and the steps are crumbling after years of erosion.
“Is it safe to use?”
“I don’t know, but we have to check it out.” She looks back at him and smiles. “You go first.”
“Why me? Ugh fine.”
He takes a small step and puts his full weight on the old stone. It seems to hold his weight and he takes another step. “Okay, I think we’re fine, but how are we going to see down there?” he says, going further down.
“Damn, you don’t have anything to light the place?”
"Hold on, let me check." Buggy starts to dig in his pockets and finds a small match. "Uh, do you think this will do?" He turns around with an awkward smile.
Y/n sighs, it is better than no light. "I guess that will do."
The pirate goes to the light the match, the little flame didn't do much, but it was enough for them to see each other. "Hold my hand. I don't want to fall," Y/n says, slowly going down the steps. Buggy goes to grab her hand and firmly tightens his grip on her.
Step by step, they make their way down the crumbling staircase. The trip was shorter than expected, but who are they to complain. Once at the bottom of the stairs, they are able to see a small creak of moonlight on the other end of the passageway. How light is able to reach down these depths is odd. Either way it is a sign that whatever their looking for is in that direction.
With the small flame guiding them, they reach the end at are met with a large wooden box. The wood has long been decayed and is decorated with a thick coat of dust. The lock holding it together is barely hanging on. Buggy turns off the match, as the light from a small opening illuminates their view and goes to inspect the strange box. He kicks the lock out of place and opens it. To their surprise, shiny lustrous metal glimmers in the moonlight.
"Gold!" Buggy digs his hands in the treasure box and picks the metal coins in hands, only to let it rain back down. Jewlery and other small artifacts can be found inside. As he continues to scramble inside the box, Y/n tries to look for a gem that best matches the circular ring Kija holds. So far, it appears to be no signs of one, only gold.
That's until Buggy pulls out a small black box buried deep within the rest of the treasure. Inside held a circular amber jewel. The orange gold color glowed brightly. It almost resembles an eye, the dark spot in the middle stared directly back at them.
“This has to be it,” Y/n said, taking the gemstone out of the box.
Without thinking, tears begin to flow down her cheeks.
“Why are you crying?”
Y/n sniffs and holds onto the gem. “Everything I know is a lie,” she whimpers. “Because of this, my family has suffered.”
Buggy cups her face. “What did he do to you?” he asks, running his gloved finger over her cuts and bruises.
“The Abask’s are the ones to blame for everything. Febe wanted to live in peace with the sea kings that once inhabited this island, but Kija’s ancestor did not. So, they plotted my family’s demise and seeked for malicious power.” She turns to him and takes a deep sigh. “He’s the reason my parents are dead. The Ti’s and the sole being of my existence is to serve as a tool for his evil scheme,”— she grits, her body shaking as he clutches the gemstone— “and everyone hates me because they think my family wanted to send the town to ruins.”
Buggy wraps his hand around hers as they hold the precious stone together.
“They’re afraid of me. I’ve been outcasted my whole life for something I wasn’t involved with. . .”— she pauses— “T-they knew Kija was the one behind their deaths and no one bothered to tell me.”
The pirate tightens his grip on her hand. “So what if you are an outcast. We misfits are special,”— he takes the gemstone from her— “we can use this power to avenge your family. To make the people who hurt you pay,” venom laced in his tone.
“What are you inferring?”
Buggy lifts the gem to the moonlight.
“With this, we can rule everything. Take back what’s yours and burn this wretched place to the ground.”
“Burn? Why would I want to do that for?” she questioned.
He sighs and brings his arms down. “When I first got here, I was planning on imprisoning everyone and forcing them to tell me where the treasure is. I was going to bomb this place after I got my hands on it.”
Y/n widden her eyes. She couldn’t believe what she just heard. “That’s absurd. Why would you do that?!”
“Well, I wasn’t planning on killing everyone. . . unless they put up a fight.” He shrugs.
“You were going to kill innocent people?!”
“Eh,” he grunts. “I wouldn’t say innocent.” Buggy approaches her and slowly backs her into the wall. “We freaks have always dealt with the harrassmenf of the normies,” he whispers into her ear. He then moves her hair back and kisses her neck. “You’re just like us. Don’t you want to bring pain to those who belittled you all these years?”
“You’re crazy,” she mumbles.
He only hums in response before running his thumb across her lip. “I’m a pirate. We’re all crazy.”
It wasn’t until that moment that it finally clicked for Y/n. He is a pirate. All pirates are evil, brute, and filled with greed. It’s like a slap on the face, Buggy is just that and she’s only realizing this. How did she get herself tied with this man? Only her inexperience and gullible nature are to blame.
She gulps, staring into his green eyes. This man has the highest bounty in this sea. What did he do to earn that much berries on his head? She knows so little about him, only exposed to his “good” side, who is he really?
“I’ve been deceived,” she whispered.
Buggy’s face suddenly drops. He grabs her jaw, slightly pressing against it. “What do you mean?”
Y/n only stays quiet. Her heart begins to accelerate, that feeling of danger when she first met him leaks through her mind.
“Don’t tell me you're scared. . .” He sounds clearly hurt. He then furrows his brows and harshly squishes her checks, reeling her face towards him. “I’m a pirate, you know what you were getting yourself into. I thought we were on the same track here.”
He’s right. She knew, it was in her face the whole time. How he hurt her in the beginning, the way he treats his crew, even now, he’s causing her pain.
“Y-you’re hurting me,” she whimpers.
Buggy immediately drops his hand. The fear in her eyes say it all. He’s realized what he’s done. She doesn’t need any more damage on her beaten face.
“I’m not one of them.” His hands wrap warping her torso and he leans in for a kiss on the lips. He gently pecks her quivering lips. “You deserve much more. Let me be the one to end your pain.”
"But—"
As they turned to the direction of the stairs. Someone unexpected points a gun right at them. Buggy pulls Y/n behind him and stands up the intruder.
Y/n gasps, “Mr. Abask?!”
The older man walks closer, not moving the gun faced at them.
"I see you found my precious gemstone. Now, kindly hand it over."
Buggy growls at his orders. "I don't follow shit from no one."
Kija fingers make the trigger click. "I really don't care about you clown. Just give me what I want, and you can be on your merry way. I have a jack load of gold, more than what's in that box. What do you say? It's a good bargain, don't you think?"
The pirate clutches on the stone he holds and back at his woman. She grips on his vest, utterly afraid to be traded as a piece of meat. Yes, the gold is a tempting deal, but there is no way he is falling for that trick.
"Gold, you say?" He tilts his head, coming out his defensive position. Y/n is taken aback at his response, but Buggy winks at her. A plan is at its making.
Kija continues to take a couple of steps forward, also seemingly dropping his guard. "You and your crew are free to go. Whatever happens to this island is none of your concern, so what do you say? Do you accept my deal?"
“Very well,” — he turns to her— “I hope there’s no hard feelings. This was just a mere fling.” He then pushes her to the ground, hard enough to where it seems believable.
Buggy begins to walk towards him, holding the gemstone right in front of him. As the two men approach each other, Kija lowers his weapon. Exactly what Buggy was waiting for. He detached his hand and knocks the gun out of Kija’s hold.
“Sike bitch!” He uppercuts him the jaw, knocking him down. He turns around and carries Y/n over his shoulder. “We have to get out of here.”
They somehow made it back up the stairs of the temple, but their troubles were only beginning. At the stop of the stairs awaited the assassin, 15. He too holds them at gunpoint.
"Why the shocking faces? I won't let you ruin my killstreak," the masked man chuckles.
Y/n begins to tremble, her hands gripping the hell out of Buggy's arm. "H-he's the one who killed my parents," she whimpered quietly.
Buggy looked into her tearful eyes and back at the assassin. This is the man who worked with Kija to cause pain to his woman. As he goes to speak, the sound of a trigger behind him makes his blood run cold.
“We got you surrounded. There’s no where to run,” Kija says, walking up the steps.
“Damn,” the pirate mutters. This scenario is not playing for their favor, not to mention the bullets are most likely made of sea stone. Whether he likes it or not, the only wise choice is to surrender.
"Good. Stay where you are." Kija puts the barrel of his gun on Y/n's back, pushing her towards ground level. Buggy grits his teeth as he continues to stand still. The stone he holds is taken away as Kija snatches it out of his hand.
Kija holds Y/n by the nape of her neck. He turns to 15 and gives him a smug look. "Finish him, he'll only get in the way."
"You don't have to tell me twice."
Shots are fired and Buggy somehow manages to dodge them by detaching his body parts. The bullets barely grazed him, but just a small touch could take him out. Angered by the missing shots, 15 leaps over at Buggy and tumbles down the stairs with him.
"Buggy!"
Kija throws her the ground. "Shut it brat."
She weakly gets up and glares at him. Yes, he may have the gemstone in his possession, but the conditions are not right to use them.
“There’s no full moon. The ritual won’t work.”
He only begins to laugh. “I lied.”
“What?”
“Did you really think I was going to leave you all alone back at the warehouse? I knew the pirate was going to find you. It was obvious that you weren’t going to tell me anything, so I waited and followed you guys here.”
He takes out the ring and places the gemstone to complete the amulet. "The moon is not necessary. I only need your blood," he laughs darkly.
"N-no, I won't let you!"
His finger goes to the trigger. "We'll see about that."
There is no way she can dodge that. This is it. Y/n shuts her eyes tight, waiting for her death, but seconds pass by, and nothing happens. "Huh?" She opens her eyes and checks her body, she's still alive. Kija desperately presses on the trigger, but it's jammed. Now this her chance to make it run for it.
Y/n gets up and dashes to the exit of the temple. Kija is quick on his toes and goes to grab her arm, reeling her back inside. She is thrown harshly to the wall, knocking the wind out of her lungs. She gasps for air, but it proves to be difficult. If she doesn't get up in time, Kija will end her life. As she attempts to make another escape, a painful tug is felt on her head.
Kija pulls Y/n by her hair, making her stand on her two feet. He then tightens his fist around her neck and shoves her to the wall. At the same time, he stabs a knife in her abdomen. Y/n hitches at the sudden pain that burns through her flesh. And just like that, he roughly removes the knife.
She slides down the wall and slumps to the floor, blood gushing out of the wound.
"Stupid bitch,” he laughs as he watches her blood drip down his knife. It is finally time to commence his new world. Not wasting any more time, he grabs the amulet and smears the blood over the gem. The blood that soaks the stone sucks in the red liquid. It begins to glow and the engravings on the wall follow after.
The amulet begins to float midair. Bright gold illuminates the inside, making it hard to take in the amount of the light. The large engraved cross on the ceiling of the temple is the last one to lit. As the cross is completely lit, a golden beam shoots the amulet, and a powerful burst of magic unleashes upon them.
"Yes, this is it!" Kija exclaims in glory, raising his hands in the air.
The gemstone reflects the beam back up the ceiling, breaking through the roof. The power that resonates from the stone grows stronger and stronger. The shockwaves grow as well, damaging the foundation of the temple. It can only withstand so much force.
Meanwhile, Buggy fights for his life underneath the temple. 15 has him in a chokehold, squeezing the life out of him. Though, it doesn't last long as Buggy throws him off and grabs the knives from his vest. The assassin is quick on his feet, bouncing back from the throw and he too reaches for his gun.
"It's a bit outdated to use blades. A gun is much more efficient," he snickers.
"You think I give a damn?" Buggy detaches his arms and shoots his blade equipped limbs right at him. 15 fires his gun, Buggy's arms dodge each bullet and continue to fly in his path. "Now die!"
The assassin jumps up to avoid being hit, but Buggy can swiftly change the direction of his limbs course instantly. With that, the knifes penetrate 15's chest. It is a fatal wound. He drops to the ground, gasping for air. Buggy makes his way towards him, reattaching his limbs.
"You will no longer cause her pain. Rot in hell."
The dying man shakes in anger. "I'll see you there clown and I will make sure to torment you till the end of time!"
"We'll see about that."
As 15 takes his last breath, Buggy pivots and hurries up the steps. The whole temple is starting to crumble. "What is this power?" he mutters. Each shockwave that the amulet sends is cracking the walls. If he doesn't get out in time, he'll be buried alive.
He finally reaches to ground level and is met with a bright light. In the middle of the roam, hovers the amulet. Kija is walking towards it. Behind him lays Y/n, she's sitting on a pool of blood.
"Shit, we have to get of here."
As Kija is distracted, Buggy sneaks past him and carefully lifts Y/n from the ground. "Don't worry I got you," he coos. He carries her bridal style, rushing out of the temple. They go to hide in the woods that surround the cemetery, enough to maintain distance from the shockwaves.
"What happened to you? You're bleeding a lot, this isn't good. . . "
Y/n holds her lower right abdomen, she's trying not to freak out as she looks at the amount of blood that stains her hand.
"H-he stabbed me. My blood, he was able to use it to activate the gemstone. W-we have to get it back or else he will kill us all," she says with a faint voice.
"I'll find a way, just don't overdo it. You're losing a lot of blood." Buggy removes the bandana on his head, but it's not big enough to tie it around her torso.
Y/n tries to remove her shirt, but Buggy stops her. "You sure?"
She nods is response. He hesitates to remove it as it would expose her body. They have no choice; it is the only thing available. Best to stop the bleeding as soon as possible. Once it is wrapped over the wound, Y/n goes to grab Buggy's arm.
"Please. . . don't let him get me. Once he kills me, there is nothing that can stop him."
"What do you mean?"
"He'll become immortal."
As Buggy goes to open his mouth a large boom gets their attention. They whip their heads back at the temple, it is no longer standing. A burning inferno takes its place as the ruble is scattered across the graveyard. Kija could not have survived that explosion, but suddenly, someone emerges from the pit of flames. A large beam of light shoots up the sky with an immense power. The sky begins to darken as clouds form around the beaming light.
The wind howls, growing stronger by the second and black clouds cover the area. Lightening begins to flash with thunder following afterwards. A storm like they've never seen before is in the making and the culprit behind all of this, is the unleashed power of the amulet.
Only a small fraction of its power has been used and the amount of damage it’s done is frightening to say the least.
Buggy observes the chaotic scene, wielding the power of the elements is better than he imagined. He stares at Kija, who elevates higher into the air, taking in the glory of the amulet's gift. A smug smile creeps to his face, he will have that power for himself. He was thinking about leaving the islander's alone this time, but circumstances change; afterall, they did hurt his woman.
The question is, how will he retrieve it? Obviously, Kija will put up a fight and it will not be an easy one. Y/n is in a critical condition, he can't just leave her to fend for herself. If only his crew were here.
"Can you stand?" he asks, looking back at her.
Y/n gulps, she understands what Buggy is trying to plot, it seems to be their only option.
"I can try," she whimpers. With the strength she has left, she pushes her torso off the ground, holding her bleeding wound. "Fuck—" she grits. It is painful, but she must pull through.
The pirate gives her a hand and lifts her up the ground. Y/n stands on her two feet, using Buggy's body as support.
"I know this won't be easy, but I need you to get the hell of here," Buggy orders, his green eyes filled with determination.
Y/n only nods in response, she has to conserve her energy."
"Don't worry about me. I'm not going to die so easily,"—he chuckles— "Now go, I'll be with you once I take him down." He bends down to kiss her cheek and nudges her to the woods. He then pivots and heads straight the eye of the storm.
As Buggy runs towards an unknown danger, Y/n takes one last look at Kija. His eyes glow like the sun, though no warmth emits from the light, it feels almost sinister, like a scorching heat that melts everything in its path. Who knows what powers the gemstone holds; she hopes Buggy will be alright. For now, she runs, hoping to stay alive to see another day.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
I couldn't resist publishing this now that I have a few chapters under my belt. This story has literally been eating away at my life. Also, trying something new with shorter chapters. I think it makes a story like this more impactful and will honestly probably lead to more frequent updates.
Tagging those who asked, and those who were interested from my other posts about this fic: @torao-chan @manruu @trafalgarlawsfeathercoat @xxkitty13 @sugarpsalms @ccrider-2014 @sen-ya @existential-crisis24 @mizu-no-doukeshi
(One Piece, Law x Luffy, Explicit)
Luffy never meant to fall in love with his kidnapper, he just did.
LENGTH - 1 Chapter / 3,913 Words
TAGS - Kidnapping, Stalking, Suspense, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, Some Call it Love Some Call it Stockholm Syndrome, Top Trafalgar D. Water Law, Bottom Monkey D. Luffy, Dubious Morality, Obsession, Possessive Trafalgar D. Water Law, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Questionable Relationship, Slow Burn, I WILL Find A Way to Make A Kidnapping Fic Sweet, Monkey D. Luffy Needs a Hug
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The pirates are getting closer and closer to Dressrosa. They are all anxious to see what awaits them. Law's tales of the tyrant sent shivers down their spine. Can they even defeat monster from hell?
At the moment, Ceaser is tied up to the mast of the Sunny. It was a hassle to detain in him amongst the chaos on Punk Hazard. The battle proved to be worth it as they now have the upper hand in the situation or so they think.
Luffy lounges on the railing of his ship, utterly in love with his vampire. On Punk Hazard, Law made a vow to take down Kaido, an emperor of the sea. The fierce determination in his eyes did something to Luffy, physically and mentally. Since then, he has not been able to keep his eyes off of Law.
He is oblivious to the fact that everyone can see that he is devouring Law with his eyes. Weeks into the journey his mate has put on some weight, more meat on his bones. Maybe him and Law aren't so different when it comes to terms of diet. Losing his trace of thoughts, Nami yells out the sight of the land ahead. They have arrived at their destination.
Law barges out of the Polar Tang and walks to the deck. The ships sail closer together as the pirates come up to prepare to dock.
"Listen up everyone, we are sailing forth into enemy territory. We will face a tyrant like we've never seen before. Do not drop your guard, I'm referring to you, Luffy," he clenches his jaw at the last sentence.
The straw hat gawks at his comment. "I would never."
Nami could only roll her eyes. She knows good and well that Luffy is a walking disaster, spreading havoc wherever he goes. Law should already know that he won't stick to the plan.
“You better control yourself. I mean it," Law says.
Luffy only pouts and slouches against the railing.
The vampire moves on and continues on with his meeting. “Here’s the plan. We will remain undercover as we take Caesar for negotiation. Once that is complete, we will depart immediately. Doflamingo will have face Kaido’s wrath after he fails his portion of their deal,"— he stops and waits for their comprehension— "Everyone understands?"
"Aye-aye captain!" the Heart Pirates scream.
On the other hand, the Straw Hats nod amongst themselves and sighed looking at Luffy. Following the plan step by step will prove to be difficult, but they will try their best.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖౨ৎ.𖥔 ݁ ˖-`♡´-.𖥔 ݁ ˖౨ৎ.𖥔 ݁
Skipping over a couple of hours since the landing of Dressrosa, the plan has crumbled.
The Heart Pirates are nowhere to be found and that includes Law. One by one, each member of the Heart Pirates dissappeared. Their captain was the last one standing and he too vanished.
Sanji, Nami, and Chopper managed to keep Ceasar "safe." However, they were sitting ducks after the vampire was out of the picture. They ran across the kingdom, dodging enemies left and right, just trying to survive. Luckily, the Straw Hats managed to find each other.
Reunited at last, Luffy noticed that Law was missing. "Hey, where's Torao?" He looked around for any sign of him. The only people near him are his crew.
Nobody wanted to give him the answer, but someone had to speak up.
"Doflamingo captured him," Jinbe spoke.
The Straw Hats turn to their captain. Luffy's poker face was unsettling to the rest. He turns around and covers his face with his hat. "What do you mean Doflamingo captured him?" A tone of seriousness in his words.
"I-It all happened so fast, we barely managed to escape," Chopper said.
"I want you guys to help the people and the rest to stop the other Donquixote members. I am going alone,”— he pauses— "Actually, Zoro, follow me."
"Wait, are you really going to face Doflamingo?" Usopp jittered.
"I have to save my mate, even if it's the last thing I do." He looks back at his crew with a menacing glare. "Let's go Zoro."
The duo left the rest of the crew behind as they charge to the Royal Palace. Doflamingo must have him trapped in there.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖౨ৎ.𖥔 ݁ ˖-`♡´-.𖥔 ݁ ˖౨ৎ.𖥔 ݁
"My, my, look what the trash brought in."
Law finally wakes up from his slumber. He goes to move his arm, but it doesn't budge. He immediately comes out of his daze and opens his eyelids to the man he hates the most. Panics sets in as he trashes around the large throne he sits on.
"Let me go if you know what's good for you," Law declares, gritting his teeth.
Doflamingo lets out a nasty cackle.
"Are you threatening me? Look at you, pathetic," he mocks. The tall man circles around the large red throne, his presence is unnerving enough, having him this close makes Law anxious.
"Are you going to kill me?" he asks.
"Hmm, not yet. A little birdie told me that a cute little guy in a straw hat is your mate. I would love to meet him."
Law growls, "Don't you dare lay your dirty fucking hands on him."
"Oh my, why so aggressive?" The large man nears Law and tilts his head with his index finger. “I only want to meet him. I’m sure he’ll taste much better than you.” He grins, showing his large fangs.
“I won’t let you harm him.”
“We’ll see about that.”
“Over my dead body,” he spits out.
Doflamingo leaps over at him and roughly grabs his face, his fingers tightly pressing his cheeks. "I'd watch that mouth of yours." He releases his grip and dusts off his clothes. "I'll be back to delight you with my company. I have more pesky pirates to capture," he cackles as he walks to the door.
Doflamingo then exits the room. As soon as he does, Luffy comes busting though the windows.
"Luffy-ya!?" Law yells out, utterly surprised to see his mate.
"Torao, are you okay?" Luffy says, relieved to reunite with the vampire. He fixes his clothes and walks over to Law.
"I-I think so," he huffs.
"Okay, I'm getting you out of here."
The vampire helplessly looked up to his human. He has Kikoku strapped behind his back. How did he find it? No clue. Though, he is relieved to see both of his "possessions" safe and sound. Clearing his thoughts away, he realized that Luffy is reaching at his cuffs.
"Wait. Don't touch it, it's made of sea stone."
Luffy already touched it and went limp. "Huhhh—" he slurred. Law rolled his eyes as Luffy became a puddle on the floor. The Straw Hat quickly recovered and angrily looked at the chains. "We will figure something out later." He then picks up the whole chair, with Law on it, and lifts it over his head.
"W-wait what are you doing—"
He drops the chair the floor. It breaks and the chains that bonded the vampire are snapped off.
"Ugh," Law groans in pain.
Luffy picks him up and flies out the window.
"S-stop! Don't be so rash!" the vampire in dismay yells out.
With the power of the Gum-Gum fruit, Luffy swings up the castle while maintainig his hold on Law. Once they make it to the rooftop, Luffy scans the bottom of the city. “Over there!” he points to the commotion. “My crew is there. Let’s go!” As they began their escape on the rooftop, something pulled them back.
"Who says you can leave? Dinner is almost ready," Doflamingo snickered.
"So that's Mingo," Luffy muttered, his gaze not leaving the pink feathered man.
Doflamingo uses the string attached to Luffy to reel him in. "Oh, you didn't tell me that your mate is so beautiful."
He cups the younger's face and moves his head to the side to reveal more of neck. Doflamingo takes a whiff of his scent and begins to salivate. "I wonder how your lovely mate would taste like. Sharing is caring Law," he says exposing his large fangs. He goes to give him a long lick on the neck and playfully pretends to bite him.
"Get off of him!" Law yells out, trying to get from the ground, but fails. The sea stone has immobilized him.
“What? You’re a vampire too?” Luffy questioned, trying not to gag at the saliva on his skin.
“Who do you think turned Law?”
Luffy eyes widen at the revelation. He never thought to ask Law about it, he just assumed he was born one. To think he used to be human.
“Did you want to be become vampire, Torao?” he asks, looking back at his mate.
“No,” Law responds back weakly. “I never did.”
With that, Luffy upper cuts Doflamingo on the jaw and punches him away. “You took away his freedom. I won't let you do that again.”
The tall vampire laughs to himself as he recovers from the attack. He grins, showing off his large fangs, thirsty from the smell of battle. “Law belongs to me, and you will too.” He uses his strings to drag Luffy across the rooftop and slams him against the brick material.
“Luffy-ya!”
Law watched helplessly as his mate is trashed around like a rag doll. The tyrant is insanely strong and his viscous attacks are brutal. He should be the one fighting him, not Luffy, it is his duty as his mate to protect him. Now, he can only watch as he is beaten to a pulp.
“Damn it all!” He slams his head the ground.
“Torao, stop. That won’t help.”
Law picks his head up and turns to the voice, it’s Zoro. He holds a key in his hand and hurried to his side. “Now go and help Luffy. I have other things to worry about.”
Still weaken from the sea stone, Law gets up from the ground. “Thanks Zoro-ya.”
“Okay I’m out of here. Pika is creating havoc.”
Still confused on how the swordsman managed to get him the key, he only nods. Right now, all that matters is assisting his mate to take down Doflamingo. Using the energy he still has; he teleports in front of Doflamingo and grabs Kikoku from Luffy's back, cutting the string attached to him. In that single slash, he hits the tyrant, sending him flying away.
Now, it is a duel between the vampires. Doflamingo will show him no mercy, just like he did his brother, Corazon.
"You were supposed to be the next in line, Law. The next Corazon,"— he gets up— "You're nothing but a traitor. You and that rat will have the same faith." His blood vessels pop from anger as he tightens his fists, nails digging in his palm. Bloods drips from his hand, not caring that he is hurting himself. It reeks of blood lust, from both sides.
"Don't you dare call him that motherfucker!"
Doflamingo grins. There it is.
Law charged at him, aiming at whatever is available to slash. He is furious, nothing but rage fuels him. All that pent up anger and guilt is finally released after all these years. He must avenge Corazon. He must.
"You pathetic bitch. You wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for me."
The younger vampire swung left and then right. "Cora saved me, not you."
He's riled up, perfect. Doflamingo continues his taunt. "My rat of a brother died for nothing. You were never going to make it far in this life. Don't worry, it's going to hurt a lot." He used his sharp claws to fling Kikoku out of Law's hand. Defenseless, Law teleported away from the viscous claw attacks.
His sword is behind the tyrant, he needs it to land a critical hit. Teleporting to the other side will be difficult. Doflamingo knows that he will move to that area and will that the opportunity to cut him open. "Damn," he grits to himself. He must act quick before he is sliced to death. Then an idea came to mind. Instead of teleporting, he dashed to the right, trying to outmaneuver the older vampire.
Doflamingo used his strings to capture Law. He purposely allowed himself to be attached. Doflamingo proceeds to swing him around, just like he did to Luffy. He waited for the right time to retrieve Kikoku as he is swung across the rooftop. Once it is in his hands, he quickly teleports behind the tyrant and goes to slash his back. Unfortunately, the older vampire saw it coming and knocked Kikoku out of his hands. He grabs Law and jumps up to the air.
"I wonder how much this will hurt. Let's find out," he manically laughs as he spreads Law's arms apart and spirals down to the ground.
At the landing, Law's right arm has been torn off. The vampire rolls around in agony, clutching where his limb used to be. The pain in unbearable and his wailing was music to Doflamingo's ears.
Luffy watched in horror as his limb laid splattered on the ground, painting the area red. "Torao!" He runs towards him, but as he does, Doflamingo takes out a gun and fires multiple rounds at Law, killing him.
The Straw Hat froze. Law is not dead.
"Alright let's make this more intersting." With a snap of a finger, the birdcage that surrounded Dressrosa began to move.
"What are you doing?" Luffy quivered, distraught at the sight of his mate.
"Within an hour everything will be sliced to death. Don't worry, you won't be alive much longer to accept that fate."
Angered, Luffy enlarges his fist, filled with haki and lunges towards the tyrant. Doflamingo sends string bullets at him, but Luffy dodges all of them. The two continue to clash, unaware that Law was gathering his last bit of energy.
"Shambles."
In an instant, he appears right in front of Doflamingo, taking him by surprise. He had him. "Gamma Knife!" Using all his might, he penetrates an electrical energy through his chest and, sending powerful shock waves that distorts the insides. Doflamingo stood there, taking in the fatal attack. Soon, he slumps to the ground.
Law too falls over, completely drained.
"Torao!" Luffy calls out. Before he could make it to his side, a small chuckle stopped him in his tracks. "No, Torao defeated you."
Doflamingo giggled and walked over to the fallen man. He picks his foot up and goes to finish Law once and for all. But before he could, someone stopped him.
Using one foot, the Straw Hat prevented Doflamingo from killing his mate. "You'll regret doing that." His fierce eyes glaring right at the tyrant.
"Oh, am I supposed to be afraid of you? Don't make me laugh."
A clash commenced between their conqueror's haki, sending fierce waves of energy throughout the air. "I don't see you laughing," Luffy stated as Doflamingo frowned.
Now using Gear 3, Luffy launches a series of attacks. All which the vampire dodges. He counter-attacks with more of his piercing strings.
The fight begins to drag as Luffy feels himself become worn out. There must be somthing he can do. Of course, he still has another weapon in his armory. Right then and there, Luffy blew on his haki infused arm and unlocked a new gear, Gear 4, the Bounce-Man. Without hesitation, he strikes Doflamingo with a powerful haki punch.
"What is this? A shit show? You can never defeat me with that," Doflamingo snickers.
"We'll see about that."
Stronger than before, Luffy hits are more effective and are able to damage the vampire. It is clear that the tyrant is not enjoying this new transformation. The Straw Hat can only smirk at his realization. Despite the power up, Doflamingo is able to keep up with him and stop his damaging attacks.
They fly into the air as the citizens watch the battle between the Straw Hat pirate and the Warlord. The birdcage is still closing in, seemingly at a rapid pace. Luffy has to stop this.
"Mingo, you will pay for what you did to Torao and everyone!"
The last blow, Luffy charges all of his energy into one attack. "Gum-Gum. . . Leo Bazooka!" With two coiled fists unleashesd, he hits Dolflamingo and sends him flying to the side of a mountain. The powerful blow practically killed the vampire, but to his luck, he managed to survive.
"I'd admit, you almost got me, but you are no match for me," he says getting up from the impact.
Luffy, on the other hand, has been depleted. Gear 4 has taken a toll on his body, there is no way he can fight him now. The people around him were unsure on what to do, after all, he is a wanted pirate. Still, he is fighting to take down that monster that has tormented them for years. They gather around him, cheering him on to finish the fight.
The Straw Hat looks at the surrounding people. So many of their faces scream for hope and freedom. He has to win. His eyes trail to the rooftop of the Royal Palace, he must win for Law as well. Finding energy to transform once more, he activates Gear 4 and clashes with the vampire once again.
"You're up again. You won't be standing for long." He sends various sharp strings at him as they fly across the kingdom.
Luffy continues to send a barrage of attacks, making sure that he felt each connecting hit.
The two seem to be even now as each attack become equal in strength. The vampire was furious, there is no way a mere human should rival his strength.
"I've had enough of you!"
Doflamingo releases a string of web to counter the attack and unleashes large pointy purple strings to pierce the Straw Hat. Knowing he has to give it his all, Luffy inflates his arm to his maximum and charges at the vampire with his King Kong Gun. At first, it only collides with Doflamingo's attack, but that quickly cracks.
The tyrant laughed as Luffy couldn't budge threw it, but he was mistaken. The powerful energy concentrated in Luffy's enlarged fist broke through his string weapon, shattering it. Defensless, Doflamingo could only embrace for impact. So he does, feeling the fist collide with his face, sending him down once again.
Doflamingo was finally defeated. His reign of terror is over.
Luffy returns to his original form and flattens to the ground as the Birdcage is no more. Gear 4 drains his energy compared to the other gears. He closes his eyes and begins to rest before he shoots awake— Law.
He gets up from the ground and flings him up to the rooftop.
Running to his inured mate, he yells, "Torao!"
At the top of the castle, Law was barely hanging. His chopped off arm laid beside him as he bleeds to death. He weakly opened his eyes, small hot tears run down his cheeks, staining his dirty cheek.
"Did we do it? He's gone?" he softly speaks.
Luffy, unware how to react, frantically grabs his unattached limb and tries to place it back. "W-we d-did. . ."
Law coughs and continued to have a labored breathing. "Mugi,”— he grunts— “I love you."
"I-I love you too," Luffy managed to say, his voice shaking. "It's going to be okay. Chopper will be here any second just—"
That's when he noticed Law stopped breathing. No. This was not happening. "Law!" he cried out. He can't die. Not after everything. Doflamingo was defeated. He can finally live in peace. To enjoy his freedom.
"No! You can't die on me! You promised we would take down Kaido and find the One Piece. To see me become the Pirate King."
Luffy shook Law's body, trying to get him to wake up, but nothing. The vampire's body was completely limp.
"No. . . Torao!" he weeped, holding his body.
"Luffy! There you—" Chopper gasps, "Luffy?!"
The reindeer runs to his captain's side. "What happened?"
"H-his arm. . . Mingo sliced it off. . ."
Chopper looked at Luffy hugging the limb. "Quick, we found his crew. I need all the help I can get to reattach his arm and restart his heartbeat."
Luffy nodded.
Chopper immediately removed a large piece from Luffy's shirt and tied around Law's shoulder, cutting off the circulation. Despite having his energy depleted, Luffy channeled his remaining energy to swing him, Chopper, and Law back to the Heart Pirates. It was a matter of life or death.
Huddled in a corner of the plaza, Bepo sees something coming from afar.
He squints his eyes and sees Luffy with Chopper and Law. "Captain! Captain. . ?"
The Heart Pirates surround the Straw Hat and are in shock to find their captain pratically dead.
"Captain!" Bepo sobbed.
"There's no time for crying. We have to reattch his arm and provide an elecrtick shock to his heart," Chopper commanded.
The Heart Pirates locked in, there was no time to waste, their captain's life was on their hands.
Luffy anxiously watched from afar. Chopper is an excellent doctor and Law has trained his crew well. He's in good hands, he'll make it for sure. Still, doubt entered his mind.
"Luffy!"
The Straw Hat whipped his head to the direction of the voice. It was Usopp and the rest of the crew. They all came running at him, even with Ceaser still tied up.
"Guys. . ." He fell on his knees, looking at the ground.
The crew were puzzled at his demeanor. Their captain just defeated Doflamingo, he should be celebrating, not looking so gloom. That's when they noticed the chaos in front of them. It was the Heart Pirates, the hint of stress and Chopper in the midst of things could only mean one thing.
"What's going on?" Zoro asked.
"It's Torao. . . Mingo really hurt him. . ."
Everyone remained silent as they observed the medical team patch the vampire captain. Luffy bit his lip, his hands shaking at the thought of losing his lover. The blood that covered the ground made him sick.
Eventually, the chaotic shuffling seized. Luffy continued to close his eyes, not wanting to see the lifeless body of his mate. Footsteps approach him and he began to pull on his hair, he's not prepared to hear those damning words.
"Luffy, he will be okay," Chopper said, placing his hoove on his shoulder.
"Really?!" Without saying another word, he dashed towards the vampire's side and hugged his sleeping body.
"Woah, be careful Luffy, he's still in a critical condition," Bepo said.
"I know, I know. . . I'm just glad that he will be okay. . ." Then, he too passed out.
"Ah, Luffy!" Chopper cried out.
Everyone went to surround the fallen captains. The Straw Hat laid asleep over his vampire, exhausted from the battle. Their crew simply smiled, they did their duty, it is time for them to rest. After all, they deserve every second of rest together.
