I need y'all to understand that...writing this took a piece out of my soul...but, I couldn't stop thinking about this and I found myself sitting down and having finished writing this fic by the afternoon. Please, please, read with caution. This is very triggering for domestic violence, rape, and abuse. That being said, those who wish to go forward, go ahead. Beta'd, as usual, by the strong, amazing FactCheck.
Caution, the Floor's Wet
Law trudged to the door, pulling out his house keys as he went up the steps. It had been an incredibly long few days: he'd worked a twenty-eight-hour shift at the hospital, performed four surgeries and examined no less than forty patients, gotten about two hours of sleep in the break room, then he'd been dragged out to celebrate Nami's birthday at her favorite gay bar, and now it was well past three in the morning.
Normally, Law would crash over at a friend's apartment, but Doflamingo was getting back from his business trip in the morning and Law was careful not to seem like he had too much of a life outside the hospital.
For now, he would go burrow into his bed and pray that he would get at least three hours of sleep before the blond came to bother him.
He opened the door and went inside, locking it behind him before hanging his keys and scarf on the hook rack. He took his jacket off, not really thinking about much of anything except getting some rest.
He froze when he opened the closet to put it inside, seeing a brightly colored feather coat already there.
"So, Law, would you care to explain what kept you until three in the morning?"
Law forced every muscle in his body to relax, having tensed at the sound of Doflamingo's voice. He carefully shut the closet door, turning to see the blond standing at the end of the foyer, still partially dressed in his business suit. He'd taken the jacket and tie off, sleeves rolled up.
Law knew that meant Doflamingo was expecting to get physical.
Well, not tonight if the surgeon could help it.
"A friend was having her birthday party, the others wanted me to go so I did." Law answered, going with the truth. Arguing would take more effort than he could give at the moment.
Doflamingo hummed, neutral expression slipping back into his enigmatic grin. "Is that so?"
"Yes, it is. How come you're home early?" Law questioned, removing his shoes.
"I hadn't seen your pretty face in weeks, and Moriah was getting annoying." Doflamingo replied, teeth flashing.
"Well, sounds like we've both had an exhausting time." Law said blandly, ignoring the blond's comment. "I'm going to go to bed. You should, too."
He held his breath, holding out hope that Doflamingo would let him pass without issue as he went by the older man.
The large hand that stopped him by the wrist spoke otherwise.
"Come on, Law. It's been a while. Why don't we chat and catch up a bit?" Doflamingo proposed, but the grip he had on Law was clearly not a suggestion.
Law looked down at Doflamingo's hand and then up at the blond. "I would prefer to 'chat' in the morning," he rejected.
But Doflamingo wasn't looking at him, his grin inverted as he stared at Law's arm. He pulled Law forward, pushing up the sleeve to reveal the rest of the bite mark over Law's tattoo.
"What," Doflamingo began, quiet and steely, "is that?"
Goosebumps rose on Law's skin at the tone, but he forced himself to keep calm. He hadn't done anything wrong, no matter what Doflamingo thought.
"Luffy-ya fell asleep on me after the party in the cab home. He bites in his sleep, apparently. Thought my arm was a drumstick or something," Law replied evenly.
The fingers on his wrist ground down harder and Law suppressed a wince.
"Why, then," Doflamingo bent down, nosing the younger's hair, "do you smell like smoke?"
"Most likely Sanji-ya. It was Nami-ya's party after all. He was so excited he smoked an entire pack." Law answered, careful to stay still. Doflamingo was unreadable to him, and this could go one of two ways: he'd believe Law and let him go, or he'd keep him.
Law prayed he would believe him.
Doflamingo started shaking before he tossed his head back, one hand going to his forehead as he burst into laughter.
"How stupid do you think I am, Law?"
Law sucked in a breath as the blond suddenly invaded his personal space again.
"You saw Rosi, didn't you?" Doflamingo murmured, nose to nose with the younger.
Law's eyes narrowed despite the way his heart was thumping wildly, instincts screaming at him to run.
"No," he snapped. "I haven't seen him. I told you the truth. If you don't believe me, that is your problem. If you'll excuse me," he spat acerbically, "I'm going to fucking bed."
He wrenched his wrist out of Doflamingo's grip, turning on his heel and making for a quick escape back to his room.
Doflamingo grabbed his shoulder, spinning him around. "We aren't done yet, Law, and I am not excusing you," he snarled.
Law smacked his hand away, blood roaring in his ears as frustration built inside him, feeling like a balloon about to burst.
"Why do you always do this?" he demanded. "Every time I do anything, anything, with someone other than you outside of the hospital you always assume it's with Cora-san! How could I go see him when you threatened to kill us both if I did?!"
"Because you're a crafty little shit," Doflamingo scoffed. "You don't think I know that you could go see Rosi behind my back without leaving a trail? Too fucking bad for you both that I'm too smart to believe your lying ass."
Law growled, reaching into his pocket to pull out his wallet. "If you want the fucking receipts, I will give you the fucking receipts."
Doflamingo knocked the wallet out of Law's hands, grabbing him by the shirt. "No, Law. I don't want your receipts," he hissed. "Clearly, you need a lesson on who's in charge in this house."
He hit Law, sending the surgeon to the ground. The surgeon turned to the side, spitting out blood from his cut cheek and wiping his streaming nose. He glared up at Doflamingo, fire burning in his eyes.
He was expecting this, Doflamingo thought. The realization made his blood boil. It seemed that like Law didn't understand the trouble he was in.
Tsking, Doflamingo kicked Law in the stomach, sending him onto his side. Law instinctively tried to curl in on himself protectively, but Doflamingo drove his foot in over and over again until he heard something crack and Law sob instead of gasp. He knocked him over onto his back, grinding his heel into the younger's abdomen.
Law panted something out, the word unintelligible past his wheezing exhales.
"Speak up, Law." Doflamingo sneered, foot easing up. "I can't hear you."
"Sw–Swear," Law managed to say, breath rattling out of him. "Swear I did–didn't see Cora-san. Pl–Please…"
Doflamingo's lips thinned, and he squatted down next to the surgeon, evaluating him. Law stared up at him, gaze bleary with pain, blood dribbling down his chin.
A slow grin made its way onto Doflamingo's face, sending chills down Law's spine and pumping more adrenaline through his system as his heart nearly stopped.
That look meant nothing good.
Considering Doflamingo was never up to any good, that was saying something.
"Why don't we go prove that?" Doflamingo suggested, a clear ulterior motive underlying the seemingly innocent proposal.
Law didn't know what he meant until the blond gathered him up into his arms, taking them through living room toward the one-room hallway where Doflamingo slept.
His blood ran cold when he realized the blond's intent, and he scrambled to get away from him, ignoring the sharp pain from his chest where his cracked rib throbbed. Doflamingo grabbed one of his wrists again after he managed to scratch his face, looking furious, but Law's fingers closed around the neck of a vase and he smashed it against the side of the blond's head.
Doflamingo dropped Law and the latter managed to get to his feet, one arm held tight against his ribs, and he ran as fast as he could to the nearest room with a lockable door.
He slammed the bathroom door behind him just before Doflamingo reached it, locking it and pressing his back against it when the blond started banging on it and shouting threats that Law prayed he wouldn't get the chance to follow through.
The surgeon pulled out his phone, frantically dialing the number he knew by heart. It went through so many rings that Law was terrified the other wouldn't pick up.
"Law?"
Law nearly choked on a sob of relief.
"I–I need your help," he croaked, voice wet with tears. "He–He's not listening. Please. I don't–don't know what he's going to–what he's going to do," he hiccupped, gasping when one particularly harsh shove against the door almost sent him tripping forward.
"Law, listen to me. You need to take deep breaths. Where are you? Are you at home? I'm in my car, I'll be there soon."
"Yes," Law replied urgently. "I'm home. I'm–I'm in the bathroom; he's outside."
"Okay. Deep breaths, Law. I'll be there soon. Stay on the phone with me until then."
"Okay," Law breathed, clutching his phone like a lifeline.
It was then he realized that Doflamingo wasn't pounding on the door anymore.
Law couldn't help the whimper that escaped him when the lock clicked open.
"Law? What's happening? Talk to me!"
But the surgeon had dropped his phone, scrambling backwards to get away from the door before Doflamingo banged it open.
The older man loomed at the entrance, blood running down the side of his matted blond head and splashed against the white of his shirt collar. The scratches on his cheek were angry and red, and he had a master key in one hand.
What Law cared about was the revolver in his other hand.
Doflamingo didn't say a word as he tossed the key before slowly advancing toward Law. He fisted his free hand in the younger's navy locks as he turned and began to drag him out by the hair.
Law's own hand went to Doflamingo's wrist, scratching, pulling, pinching, anything to loosen the man's iron grip, but nothing worked. Law could only spare one hand, the other trying to keep his rib secure but the fractured bone kept sending piercing jolts of pain through his chest every time he stretched too much trying to fight off the blond.
The surgeon kept his jaw clenched, refusing to let any sounds escape. He knew if he opened it, he might say something to piss Doflamingo off more, or worse: beg.
They both knew they were past the point of pleading.
Doflamingo threw open the door to his room, throwing Law inside. He shut the door behind him, crossing his arms as he stared down at the surgeon through his shades.
"Strip," was the only word he said.
Law's gaze fell to Doflamingo's revolver, swallowing thickly. He kept his eyes trained on the floor as he unzipped his hoodie with shaking hands, wincing when pulling off his shirt made him jostle his injured rib.
He hesitated, hands hovering over his jeans, but he could feel the weight of the blond's shaded stare boring holes into him, and he pulled them down.
When Doflamingo didn't do anything, remaining stony and still, Law realized that he had meant everything.
Fear and shame washing over him like a bucket of ice, he carefully removed his underwear, too, unable to look at the older man.
"Bed," Doflamingo ordered.
Cold sweat was beginning to slide down Law's skin, and he was this close to hyperventilating, but he obeyed, sitting with his legs pulled up in an attempt to cover himself.
Doflamingo tucked his revolver into his shoulder holster before stalking forward, Law flinching at the sudden movement. He placed his hands on Law's knees, forcing them apart when the younger tried to keep them closed.
Law's mouth went dry, humiliation burning on his cheeks as the blond studied him thoroughly. He yelped when Doflamingo's hand suddenly pressed against his entrance, prodding it.
"What–What are you doing?!" Law demanded. He'd never felt such burning anger before. Nor the cold coil of mortification slithering up his throat.
"Looks like you were telling the truth." Doflamingo mused, stringing out a full sentence for the first time since he'd dragged Law from the bathroom.
Law cried out when Doflamingo abruptly shoved his finger inside, dry and rough against the unprepared walls, the uncomfortable friction sending sparks of pain up Law's spine.
"This would've been so much easier if you'd just obeyed from the start." Doflamingo sighed, jerking a choked, broken sound from the younger as he forced another finger in, scissoring them viciously. The fact that he hadn't used any form of lubricant made Law's walls stick against the skin of his fingers, but he knew that so long as he stretched him out enough, blood would be enough to keep it comfortable for him.
"Please." Law gasped, trying to pull back but Doflamingo kept him in place with a vise-like grip on his hip. "St–Stop. You're–You're taking it too far."
"Am I?" Doflamingo questioned, pushing a third finger inside and punching a pained groan out of the surgeon. "You've forgotten who you belong to. Who do you think took you in? Who clothed and fed you? Sent you to med school? Wrote the recommendation letters that got you into that fancy hospital? Who looks out for you?" he demanded.
Law suddenly jolted, back arching and he tried harder to get away from the blond, tears falling from his eyes as he shook his head.
Doflamingo lips stretched upwards in delight, knowing he'd found the younger's prostate. He pressed down on it, wrenching a strangled moan out of Law and watching as he started to get hard from the treatment.
"You didn't answer me, Law." He reminded, leaning forward and nosing the younger's throat, teeth resting dangerously against his jugular.
Law sobbed, hands clawing at the sheets. "You," he cried. "You did!"
"That's right." Doflamingo affirmed, leaning back and carelessly removing his fingers out of Law and making the younger wince. "Now, why don't you try to behave for once and stay still?"
Law's eyes widened when he saw Doflamingo undo his belt, unbuttoning his slacks. His flight reflex kicked in again, lurching to the side to try to escape.
Doflamingo kept him in place with a knee to the back, pressing Law into the mattress as he pinned his arms above his head with one hand.
"Please," Law sobbed as the blond bound his wrists with his belt, "don't do this."
"There's no one out there," Doflamingo began, yanking him back as he lined up his erection with Law's entrance, "who will love you better, Law."
Law screamed when Doflamingo drove himself in, piercing his way past the resisting muscle. He wept into the sheets, fingers tearing holes through the linen as he tried to adjust to the unbearable, racking agony of having the blond's heavy girth spearing into him.
Doflamingo didn't give him much time, hips thrusting slow and shallow as he leaned forward, draping himself against Law's back as he kept a bruising grip on his waist.
"You're mine, Law." He growled into the younger's ear, earning an anguished whimper every time he moved inside him, picking up speed as blood started slicking his erection and making it easier to thrust. "When I tell you to do something, you do it. When I ask you something, you answer me. When I tell you no bullshit, no bullshit."
"Okay," Law hiccupped around his cries, "I pro–promise, so pl–please, stop."
"We only just started," Doflamingo shook his head, leaning back up so he could have a better angle to push deeper in. "We stop when I say stop, Law. Behave and I might be lenient."
Law shed fat, bitter tears as he buried his face into the sheets, biting down on the cloth and praying that if he kept quiet Doflamingo might finish sooner.
He laid there, weeping wretchedly into thousand-count sheets as Doflamingo raped him, the experience going on for what felt like hours, every thrust the equivalent of a killing blow, Doflamingo's hands branding filth and indignity against his skin, waiting with threadbare hope that it would all be over.
Law wanted to pass out; he wanted to bite down on his tongue so hard he severed it and sent himself into shock and lost enough blood to die.
He just wanted it to end.
The first good thing to happen to him ever since he got home was Doflamingo's bedroom door busting open, Smoker and two officers behind him all aiming at Doflamingo.
"Give me one reason," the federal agent growled lowly. "Arms up, now."
Doflamingo's back was to Smoker, but he did as instructed.
"Remove yourself from the victim and turn around slowly, arms raised." Smoker instructed clearly. He was going to do this by the book, because he'd be damned if he messed up and Doflamingo got off on the charges because of it.
Doflamingo withdrew from Law, making the younger shudder, and turned around to face Smoker, expression blank. The sight of his bloody cock made Smoker's blood boil, but he kept a tight hold of his emotions as he spoke.
"Walk over to me, slowly."
Doflamingo did so, and as soon as he was close enough, Smoker put away his gun and spun Doflamingo around, yanking his arms down and handcuffing them behind his back. He removed Doflamingo's revolver from its holster, handing it off to one of the officers behind him.
"Book him," he ordered gruffly.
Doflamingo's neutral face broke as he began to laugh. "You can try to lock me up, but we all know I'll be out by morning," he sneered.
"I don't think so," Smoker retorted. "We've got witnesses, and you can count on me testifying at the trial, scum."
Doflamingo shook his head, still chuckling. "If you can even get me to trial. Law's not going to say anything," he stated with absolute surety. "He's learned his lesson, after all."
Smoker turned, disgusted and more concerned about the surgeon, waving at the officers. "Take him away and get the EMTs in here."
"See you soon, Law." Doflamingo threw over his shoulder as the officers led him out.
Smoker went over to Law, grimacing at the bruises and blood on the younger. "Law? I'm here," he said quietly so as not to startle him. "I'm going to take off the belt now, okay?"
Law didn't look up from the sheets, but he did nod, shoulders shaking. Smoker reached over, carefully undoing the leather from Law's wrists.
"Law…" Smoker swallowed, unsure of what to do. Law had called him before when Doflamingo had assaulted him, but it had never been more than a few punches or kicks, and the surgeon never filed charges.
But Doflamingo had never gone this far before.
Smoker blamed himself. If he'd found a way to get Law to speak up against Doflamingo, maybe they could've prevented this.
It was when he took off his jacket, placing it over Law and trying to give him some modicum of modesty that the surgeon turned to face him.
Law's face was damp with tears and snot, eyes red as more water dripped from them, nose crusting with blood as his jaw purpled with a bruise. He looked much more than hurt; he looked irreparably broken.
Smoker was so unprepared for the rawness of Law's gaze that he remained speechless when the EMTs rushed into the room, moving him to the side as they examined Law. They lifted him onto a stretcher and carried him out, a sphere of urgency and rapidfire action occurring in the span of mere moments before Smoker was left alone in the bedroom.
Smoker's gaze fell to the blood staining the sheets, the belt lying accusingly against the surface, and his fists clenched.
He remembered Law's face, the hopelessness dulling golden irises, the spark of recognition upon seeing Smoker that shifted into something else that Smoker couldn't decipher before the EMTs had taken him away.
He realized now that Law had been asking for his help.
Smoker cursed, hurrying out of the room and back outside to where they were loading Law into the ambulance.
"Wait, I'll ride with you." Smoker stopped them, getting inside. He sat down next to Law as the EMTs set up an emergency IV for the surgeon. "I'm here, Law. I'm here."
Law turned to him, the action seeming like it took every ounce of the diminished strength he had. He held out his hand and Smoker took it without missing a beat.
"It's going to be okay," the agent stated firmly. "Remember that. You're going to be fine."
Law burst into tears, overwhelmed, and he squeezed Smoker's hand weakly.
"H–How is it going to be okay when…when he's just going to–going to do it again?" Law demanded wetly, words sticking in his throat as he sobbed.
Smoker shook his head, other hand coming up to clasp Law's. "No. I won't let him. We're going to send him away for good, Law."
"That's what–what they said last time," Law hiccupped, shaking his head furiously. "You didn't get him then, and–and you won't get him now."
Smoker's lips thinned, and he knew he was running out of things to say, so he decided to switch tactics. "Do you have anyone you want me to call? What about Rosinante?"
The sheer terror that invoked in Law had Smoker startled and the EMTs rushing to try to stabilize him.
"No, you–you can't!" Law blurted, struggling against the EMTs' holds. "He'll kill us! Don't call him! He swore h–he would! Don't let–Don't let him kill Cora-san!"
"Law, please," Smoker tried to calm him down. "You're going to hurt yourself."
"This isn't working, we need to sedate him!" One of the EMTs said grimly.
The other pulled out a bag, taking out a needle and injecting it into Law's IV.
Within moments, the surgeon stopped flailing, falling back and blinking heavily. He squeezed Smoker's hand again, feeble.
"Please…" he begged softly. "Protect…Cora…"
Smoker sat back as Law lost consciousness, hands still clasping his, and leaned his head back against the wall of the ambulance.
This was one hell of a mess, and Smoker wasn't sure how he was going to fix it.
Are you dead inside? I'm dead inside. There will be a sequel. Fun fact: this was a songfic. My roommate played He's Hurting Me by Maria Mena and I was so shook by how much it made me think of Law and Doflamingo. I've been unable to stop thinking about writing a fic for the song and it turned into this aaaaaaa. The title itself is a line from the song, and I really hope you can take the time to go listen to it. See y'all at Get Him Off His Fucking Throne!