SwearWolf13

He saw the smile on Alvida’s face when she answered. “I’m simply being thorough. The person before you is known to be an ally to the Straw Hats.”

Shit. Why did he have to fall for you?

Buggy stepped towards Alvida, hoping to appeal to her better nature. “Alvida, trust me. They’re not worth the time. Why not just let them go - we already have Luffy.”

“I don’t care. The jury will decide their fate.” Alvida stated and slammed her weapon against the ground like a gavel.

Buggy couldn’t let the panic show. So he did what he knew best - he began talking. “Pirates and fiends - the person before you is a fool who thinks that the Shit Hats are worth saving.”

He really needed to stop letting his eyes dart to you because any expression you made towards him made him want to melt.

“Do we admire such hope? Absolutely. I know I do.” Buggy answered and then queried again. “Should they be punished for this misguided notion? Maybe, but why does it need to be today?”

“Cut off their head!”

“Execution!”

The crowd was in an uproar for your blood. Buggy needed to figure out a way that didn’t end in your death.

“We already have one, fantastic execution lined up for tonight.” He laughed and caught the glare from Alvida - pick a punishment or they die. “So, I propose torture aboard the most heinous ship in all the East Blue.” He offered.

The crowd took a few moments to ponder… and one-by-one began to agree. Buggy figured that they were assuming that they were the heinous ship. Fools.

Satisfied with everyone’s support, Buggy pulled off his black coat and slammed his hand on the buzzer to seal the sentence.

“Well, the system works. They’ll be on my ship.”

Before Alvida could protest, Buggy grabbed your arm and led you out of the tent. Once at a safe distance, he pulled the cloth from your mouth and began to work on your hands.

“Torture? That was the best you could come up with?” You snapped at him.

Buggy frowned at your bindings. “Right now you’re torturing me.” He grumbled.

“If you think I won’t fight you...”

Buggy unlocked the cuffs and grabbed your chin with enough pressure to stop you mid-sentence.

“Fortunately for both of us, I’m too fixated on you that I can’t lift a finger.” He told you, voice firm but whispered. “Get to the docks and onto my ship. I can’t save you a second time.”

The sound of your steps barely registered through the excitement and laughter reverberating throughout the massive circus tent. The cloak that clung to your shoulders was vital in the bitter night air, but it'd gotten significantly warmer the more you wandered inside, no doubt a cause of the number of bodies crammed into one place as the majority of them performed on the stage in the center. It was filled with more stimulation than what you were used to seeing, traveling along the dull and dreadfully peaceful ocean.

You moved to pull the top of your hood down more to cover your face. You didn't want anyone recognizing you, not yet, at least. You weren't welcome here. Not since you left a year ago, and the more you thought about it, you shouldn't have come back. But before you could convince yourself that this was a bad idea, your eyes found where Buggy was sprawled out on his chair, watching the performance with a strict eye, and every thought of leaving dissipated from your mind.

You desperately tried to remind yourself to tread lightly. You weren't a part of his crew anymore; you were a stranger, and he wouldn't be afraid to treat you like one. But it was that unpredictability that you sought, even if it ended up hurting you. It was that threat of harm that curled its finger at you, beckoning you to come closer and indulge in its twisted idea of love. A love that felt more dominating than sensual, but you had always been weak to the thrill that swarmed your mind at the notion.

Time seemed to slow at an excruciating rate as you approached closer to where he was perched. Your mind racing with memories of you and him in a room shrouded in funhouse mirrors, but you couldn't find it within yourself to focus too much on the way your body distorted in the reflection as his hands worked to keep your wrists locked firmly behind your back. His body pressed heavily onto your spine as he removed your clothes in an animalistic way. Tugging and prying until he got you in the state he desired for you most. Vulnerable and aroused. All for him to admire, with as many different angles as he could've ever imagined it happening in.

You shouldn't have ever left.

You shuddered as his eyes finally shot toward you. There was a scowl on his face, but his eyes glinted with something you were all too familiar with. It was the same glint you recognized from the night spent with the mirrors. It was hungry. Shrouded with just enough anger to excite you.

"Well, look who came crawling back. Missed me that much?" He sneered, not bothering to adjust his position with both of his legs propped up over one of the chair arms, his head resting comfortably on the other.

God, you missed him. The condescending tone, the domineering positions he always had himself in--you didn't even realize you hadn't spoken until he jerked his head and shot you a mocking smile in a way to say 'well?'

You nodded, "Of course, I missed you. Life on my own isn't as fulfilling as it was on your crew."

"Ohh, so, you want back on, then?" He grinned, but it didn't hold any joy behind it. "You think you can just come back whenever you want? Act as if nothing happened? As if you hadn't disappeared for months?"

"I'll make up for it, Buggy, I swear! I just.. I dunno, I got overwhelmed.."

He hummed condescendingly, "You got overwhelmed, did you? So what? You think that means you can come and go as you want?" He paused for a moment to reveal in the way you anxiously shifted around, "We don't want you."

You blinked at him, the nerves now beginning to consume you more than you're arousal. His hand quickly detached to grab your jaw, forcing you to look back up into his eyes. "What? Nothing to say?" He mused, "Don't get shy on me now. You wanted this." His fingers squished your cheeks together roughly before throwing you to the floor.

"It was a mistake.. please.. I'll.. I'll make it up to you!"

"You're so quick to grovel. It's pathetic." He sneered in distaste as he stood from his throne and began circling you. You didn't bother picking yourself up from the floor, only lifting your head high enough to look him in his eyes.

His hand tangled its way in your hair and roughly tugged it back so you'd look at him more. "So, what ideas do you have in that empty head of yours, hm? Had to be empty if you left me, right?" He giggled to himself as he forced you to nod to his question before shoving your head down roughly and letting go. "How do you plan on making it up to me?"

You keep your head down for a moment, considering the things you could say all while he watched you shudder beneath him. A few people from his crew had glanced over to see what was going on, but none bothered to step in. They recognized you, and they recognized that primal look in their captain's eyes. Full of resentment and need.

He sighed, slightly annoyed with your inability to answer him. "Well, if you don't have any ideas, I suppose I could come up with something." He stood in mock thought for a moment before turning to you once more, "Ohhh, I've got it. Let's see how sorry you really are, hm?" He teased as he sat back down and displayed his foot to you. "Hump it."

Your hesitation only serves to egg him on more as he nudges you with the tip of his shoe, daring you to slide yourself on top of it. “Come on,” He cooed, “don’t tell me you’re too embarrassed! You came all the way out here, and this is where you’re gonna draw the line? Humping my boot?”

You shake your head and crawl closer, “N-no..” you mutter out before slotting yourself on top of him and slowly working your way back and forth against the leather of his shoe. It was awkward at first, with you not being able to keep a steady rhythm on top of him, but you soon found a pace you could stick with.

He let out an amused scoff as he watched you actually comply with his demand. He most likely would’ve let you back on the crew regardless, but of course, you listened. You’d always been good for him, haven't you? Always obedient. Never asking any questions. That’s why you needed him so bad, wasn’t it? Because you couldn’t think on your own. Not without him whispering thoughts into your mind, you couldn’t. Couldn't ever tell when he was teasing compared to being serious.

He pets your head roughly when he feels you start to get more comfortable in the action and pick up your pace. “You just can’t get enough of me, can you?"

You shake your head as you continue to hump his shoe. The longer you went at it, the more numb you became to the action. At some point, you couldn't find it within yourself to even comprehend the amused and disgusted glances you were receiving from the others on his ship, your mind becoming completely focused on the degrading task at hand. You just grinded along the leather until it shone, and your legs got sore from the movement. Over and over, you slid yourself over his foot until you finally felt yourself release. Your body shook violently on his leg, and you had to grip the fabric of his pants to steady yourself as you rode the high.

You didn’t get much time to recover before his hand was gripping your chin and forcing your eyes to look into his. "Don't ever leave me again." He growled, kissing your forehead roughly, clearly showing that he had missed you while you were away.

“They’re looking for a pirate,” the bartender whispered under his breath. At the center stage, dancers hurried away beneath flashing lights while wealthy tourists tried very hard not to look concerned. 

Honestly, you might’ve escaped notice entirely if not for the loud voice suddenly shouting, “There you are, sweetheart!” Before you could react, an arm wrapped around your shoulders and yanked you sideways into a solid chest smelling faintly of smoke, expensive cologne, and sea salt. 

You stared upward in horror, bright blue hair, red nose, and a smug grin stretched too wide. “Oh no,” you said aloud. What the hell was Buggy doing here? He said he was going to stay on the ship.  

“Miss me?” Buggy the Clown asked dramatically. 

“What are you doing here?” You hissed slightly trying to not look at the Marines whose attention was defiantly locked on to the two of you.  

“Well, I missed you and figured you needed your good luck charm while playing” he shot back, his smile never wavering. 

The Marine captain’s eyes narrowed, recognition flashed across his face instantly. “Buggy the Clown.” 

Buggy pointed at himself in exaggerated offense. “Wrong! I am but a humble businessman enjoying a peaceful evening with my beloved fiancé.” 

You blinked. “Fiancée?” you repeated. 

His fingers dug into your shoulder hard enough to warn you. “Play along,” he muttered through clenched teeth while somehow still grinning at the Marines. “Unless prison sounds fun.” 

You glanced toward the Marine patrol slowly surrounding the casino exits. Then back to the pirate captain currently attached to your side like an overdramatic parasite. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” 

Buggy laughed loudly, entirely for show. “Ah, my darling always jokes when their nervous!” 

“I’m not nervous.” 

“Of course not, sweetheart.” 

“I’m going to kill you.” 

“There’s that fiery spirit I fell in love with.” 

The Marine captain stepped closer. “You expect me to believe Buggy the Clown is engaged?” 

Buggy gasped so theatrically several nearby gamblers looked offended on his behalf. “You wound me, sir! Is it truly so unbelievable that a man of my charisma and beauty found love?” 

“Yes.” 

“That was fast,” Buggy muttered with an overdramatic pout.  

You pressed a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from laughing, he may be annoying at times, but he was funny. Unfortunately, Buggy noticed. His eyes widened slightly before his grin sharpened with renewed confidence  

The captain crossed his arms. “If that’s true, then your fiancée won’t mind answering a few questions.” 

Buggy’s arm tightened around your shoulders instinctively. “Oh, my darling hates interrogations,” Buggy said smoothly. “Traumatic childhood, very tragic.” 

“I hate you,” you whispered. 

“And yet you endure me.” 

The captain looked unconvinced. “Then perhaps you won’t mind if we search your belongings.” Buggy froze, just for a second. Inside your bag was an eternal pose back to where the Cross Guild was. If they found that and decided to follow it, you would be in trouble  

Thinking quickly, you looped your arm through his, Buggy blinked down at you in surprise. Then you smiled sweetly at the Marines. “Captain,” you said softly, “surely you can see my fiancé and I are trying to enjoy our evening.” The word fiancé nearly made Buggy choke, even though he had said not two minutes ago. “We've spent weeks traveling together,” you continued smoothly. “And honestly? If I had to survive the Grand Line with anyone else, I’d throw myself overboard.” 

A snort escaped from one of the Marines nearby. Buggy stared at you like he’d forgotten how breathing worked, but the Marine captain still looked skeptical, but less certain now. “You’ve been traveling with him willingly?” 

“Unfortunately.” 

“HEY!” 

You patted Buggy’s chest absentmindedly. “He gets emotional.” 

“I do not...” 

The Marine captain sighed heavily, clearly deciding this was no longer worth the paperwork. “Fine. But we’ll be monitoring the harbor.” His gaze hardened toward Buggy. “One wrong move and you’re finished.” 

Buggy puffed himself up immediately. “Sir, I am a respected businessman.” 

“You have a bounty poster.” 

“Propaganda.” 

The Marines finally moved on through the casino. The second they disappeared into the crowd, Buggy dropped his arm from your shoulders and rounded on you. “What was that?!” He whispered yell glancing back at where they had gone. 

“You’re welcome,” you shot back. 

“I had it handled!” 

“You looked two seconds away from exploding.” 

Buggy opened his mouth, paused, then pointed accusingly. “You called me your fiancé.” 

“You called me your fiancée first.” 

“Yes, but I was improvising.” 

“And I was saving your ass and mine.” 

Buggy stared at you for a long moment before suddenly grinning again. “Oh, this is perfect.” 

You immediately didn’t like that tone. “No,” you said firmly. 

“Oh yes.” 

“No.” 

“The Marines are watching the harbor,” Buggy explained, already sounding delighted with himself. “Which means they’ll absolutely be keeping an eye on us.” 

“We are not an us.” 

“We are now, sweetheart.” He slung an arm around your shoulders again and began steering you deeper into the casino floor. 

You dug your heels in. “Absolutely not, I need to finish what I was sent here to do.” 

“Absolutely yes, you already now Crocy wants this place, sending you was a formality, so you have done your job already.” 

“I am not pretending to be engaged to you.” 

“You already all and dropping the act now will get us both into trouble.” 

You hated how much he had a point. Music swelled again across the casino as gamblers returned cautiously to their tables. Around you, lights glittered gold against polished marble floors while dancers climbed back onto the stage. Somehow, in the middle of all the noise and chaos, Buggy still was focused on you, like this was the most entertaining thing that had happened to him in weeks. And honestly it probably was. 

“You’re enjoying this way too much,” you muttered. 

“I’m a performer,” he said proudly. “Of course I am.” 

Then his detached hand floated past your face carrying two glasses of champagne. You stared as the hand wiggled its fingers at you. “I hate everything about this.” Buggy barked out a laugh. 

Within the next couple of hours, you learned three very important things. 

First, the Marines were still watching the harbor and you both like hawks. Second, the casino hotel only had one room left available. And third, Buggy the Clown was the single most irritating man alive. 

“Is there nothing else available?” you asked  

The hotel clerk smiled politely from behind the marble counter. “My apologies, but the festival has filled nearly every room in the city.” 

“There,” Buggy announced triumphantly, pointing at the poor woman like he’d personally won an argument with the universe. “You heard her.” The clerk glanced nervously between the two of you while several Marines lingered near the entrance of the lobby pretending, very badly, not to watch. 

Buggy noticed them immediately, his grin widened and before you could stop him, he dramatically grabbed your hand and dropped to one knee. The entire lobby gasped. “Oh, come on,” you hissed. 

“My darling,” Buggy declared loudly, pressing the back of your hand against his forehead, “would you truly deny me one night beside the radiant light of my life?” 

A woman near the staircase actually started awing at the sight. You stared down at him in disbelief and he winked. You wanted to throw him into the ocean, instead, you forced a strained smile through clenched teeth. “Well, who am I to deny you, my love.” 

“So that’s a yes?” 

“Of course it is.” 

Buggy rose smoothly, still grinning like an idiot. The hotel clerk handed over the room key with a bright smile “Suite 304.” 

“Thank you kindly,” Buggy said with exaggerated charm. Then he slung an arm around your waist and guided you toward the stairs before you could murder him publicly.  

The second you entered the hallway, your smile dropped. “You are insane.” 

“And handsome.” 

“No.” 

“And charismatic.” 

“Still no.” 

Buggy clutched his chest dramatically. “You wound me, sweetheart.” 

“I’m serious! You can’t just do that in front of people!” 

“It was improv.” 

“You got on one knee!” 

“Theatrics are important.” 

“You are impossible.” 

“And yet,” he said smugly, “it worked.” That was the irritating part, he was right, again.  

The suite itself was absurdly luxurious. Tall windows overlooked the harbor below where Marine ships sat anchored beside the crowded docks. Velvet furniture filled the sitting room while crystal chandeliers glittered overhead. 

And in the center bedroom, one bed, oh the universe must have been screwing with you. 

You stopped in the doorway and Buggy stopped beside you. Then both of you stared silently at the massive mattress. “Absolutely not,” you said. 

“Oh, don’t be dramatic.” 

“You’re joking.” 

“It’s a very large bed.” 

“You’re still not sleeping in it with me.” 

Buggy scoffed loudly, “Please. As if I’m the problem here.” 

You turned slowly, “Excuse me?” 

“You’re clearly obsessed with me already.” 

“I am not.” 

Buggy tossed his coat over a nearby chair before flopping backward onto the mattress spread-eagle. “This is nice,” he sighed happily. 

You crossed your arms. “Move.” 

“No.” 

“I mean it.” 

“So do I.” 

“You’re unbelievable.” 

“And handsome. Don’t forget handsome.” You grabbed one of the decorative pillows and hurled it directly at his face. Buggy’s head detached from his body an instant before impact and the pillow slammed harmlessly into the wall. His floating head cackled. 

“Oh, that’s cheating!” 

“You throw surprisingly well,” Buggy admitted. His body, unfortunately still laying on the bed, crossed its arms smugly while his head drifted lazily through the air. “This arrangement might actually be fun.” 

“You are the worst person I’ve ever met.” 

“Aww, you say the sweetest things” You opened your mouth to snap back at him, but paused, outside the window, movement caught your attention. The marines from the lobby, they now stood across the street watching the hotel. 

Buggy noticed your shift of attention and his grin faded a bit as he glanced out the window. “Yeah,” he said quieter. “They’re not letting this go.” 

You looked back toward him. For the first time since meeting him, the constant performance cracked just enough for you to glimpse the stress underneath. He was worried. You leaned against the window with a sigh. “What exactly did you do?” 

Buggy immediately looked offended. “Why assume I did something?” 

“You’re a wanted pirate.” 

“That feels judgmental.” 

“Buggy I work for Crocodile.” 

“That’s unrelated.” 

“Buggy.” 

He clicked his tongue before finally waving a dismissive hand. “It’s complicated.” 

“That usually means illegal.” 

“It means profitable.” 

Before you could respond, a sharp knock echoed through the suite, both of you froze and another knock followed. “Hotel service,” came a voice outside. 

Buggy’s eyes narrowed instantly, and you felt the shift in him immediately. You knew what it was like when someone was squaring off to fight, and this was it. One detached hand silently floated toward several hidden knives near his coat.  

You moved carefully toward the door. Buggy caught your wrist before you could reach it and his voice dropped low. “Behind me.” The sudden seriousness in his tone sent a strange rush through your chest. Then he grinned again, fast and sharp like he’d slapped the mask back into place. “Wouldn’t want my beloved fiancé getting hurt.” 

You stared at him for half a second, then squeezed his hand once before stepping aside. Buggy blinked like the gesture surprised him. Another knock sounded, this time and it was harder. Buggy cracked his neck with exaggerated flair before striding toward the door. “Oh,” he said cheerfully, knives sliding into his detached hands behind his back, “this should be entertaining.” 

Buggy yanked the suite door open with a grin already in place. “Room service, took you guys long enough.” Three Marines stood outside, marines armed with rifles and expressions far too serious for your liking. 

The one in front smiled thinly. “Captain Buggy.” 

Buggy smiled right back. “What can I help you with?” 

The marine’s gaze slid past him into the suite, toward you, now standing near the window once again. “We only have a few more questions for you and your fiancée,” the marine said. 

Buggy leaned casually against the doorway. You could now see the detached hand behind his back quietly spinning three knives between its fingers. “We already answered questions downstairs,” Buggy replied lightly. 

“And yet,” the Marine captain said, “your story has inconsistencies.” 

You sighed internally. Buggy, however, looked delighted. “Inconsistencies? In our relationship? Impossible. We’re disgustingly in love.” 

“Name their favorite flower.” Buggy froze and the marine folded his arms smugly. “A strange thing not to know about your fiancée.” 

Buggy turned his head slightly toward you. “Sunflower?” He guessed weakly. 

You stared at him and he stared back. “He is right, those are my favorites.” 

The Marines looked deeply unconvinced now and the one on his right shifted his rifle higher. “Perhaps we should continue this discussion at headquarters.” 

Buggy’s smile thinned dangerously. “No,” he said simply. The tension was threatening to snap across the room. The Marines reached for their weapons. Behind Buggy, detached hands silently floated into attack positions. 

You could practically feel violence building in the air. And if a fight broke out here, the entire hotel would erupt into chaos. Thinking fast, you stepped forward before either side could do something stupid and grabbed Buggy by the face. 

He made a startled noise as you pulled him down into a kiss, as the room went dead silent. For one glorious second, Buggy completely stopped functioning. Just wide-eyed shock, honestly, it was the quietest you’d ever seen him. But you did have his lips covered with yours. You kissed him hard enough to make it believable, one hand curled into the front of his coat while the Marines stood frozen in awkward horror nearby. 

Then you pulled back slowly and Buggy looked genuinely dizzy. You kept your expression annoyed as you turned toward the marines. “Are we done here?” You snapped. “We spent weeks at sea together, and I would like to spend some quality time with him on land.” 

One marine immediately looked away as another turned bright red. The one in the middle looked like he desperately regretted knocking on the door at all.  

Buggy, meanwhile, was still visibly recovering. “You…” he said faintly and you elbowed him sharply. “Oh! Right!” Buggy suddenly barked, recovering instantly. “Yes! Passion! Romance! True love!” His detached hands threw knives into the ceiling entirely out of emotional confusion. 

“Right,” the marine said quickly. “Apologies for disturbing you.” 

“Yes, leave,” Buggy said immediately. 

“Enjoy your stay.” 

“Oh, we will.” The door slammed shut the second they retreated into the hallway. 

Then Buggy slowly turned toward you. “You kissed me.” 

You crossed your arms. “You’re welcome.” 

“You kissed me.” 

“Yes, I heard you the first time.” 

“You actually kissed me.” 

“Oh my god.” 

Buggy touched his mouth like he’d just experienced a religious awakening. “That was your plan?” he asked. 

“It worked, didn’t it?” Buggy stared at you for another long second, then pointed accusingly. “You used tongue.” 

Your face burned instantly. “I absolutely did not.” 

“You absolutely did!” 

“That was strategy!” 

“That was passion!” 

“You are unbelievable.”  

Buggy’s grin spread slowly across his face. “You know,” he said carefully, “for a fake fiancée you’re very convincing.” Something in his tone made your stomach flip unexpectedly, so naturally, you did the mature thing. You grabbed another pillow and hit him with it and Buggy burst into laughter. It was bright, sharp and impossible to ignore as he stumbled backward onto the bed dramatically clutching his chest. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” he sighed, still laughing, “you’re gonna ruin me for other people.” 

“That implies other people can tolerate you.” 

“Why have anyone else when I have you.” You rolled your eyes, but the tension was gone. Buggy looked at you for a moment too long before clearing his throat and standing again. “So,” he announced loudly, “obviously the marines are obsessed with us now.” 

“Obviously.” 

“Which means we need to sell this relationship harder.” 

You narrowed your eyes. “Meaning?” 

Before you could react, Buggy grabbed your hand dramatically and held it against his chest; his heartbeat was fast, faster than you expected. “You,” he declared, “are officially accompanying me to the festival tonight.” 

“The what?” 

“The harbor festival! Dancing! Gambling! Fireworks! Criminal activity!” 

“One of those things is concerning.” 

Buggy grinned as one his detached hand pulled the knives from the ceiling and slipped them back into his coat. “We’re being watched anyway,” he said quietly. “Might as well make a show of it.” His other hand grabbing yours. 

You studied him carefully, he was planning something, and the smart move would be to stay put in the room, but somehow, despite every warning instinct you possessed, you squeezed his hand back and nodded.  

By sunset, the harbor festival had transformed the entire city into chaos. Music thundered through crowded streets. Strings of glowing lanterns hung overhead between buildings while performers breathed fire along the waterfront. Drunken pirates stumbled between market stalls beside nobles pretending they absolutely did not gamble illegally after dark. 

And at the center of it all, Buggy was thriving. “This,” he declared proudly, throwing his arms wide as fireworks burst over the harbor, “is my natural habitat.” 

“You mean hanging out with drunk idiots?” 

“Celebration.” 

“You knocked over a food cart ten minutes ago.” 

“It was the road.” 

You snorted despite yourself and Buggy immediately looked smug about it. The worst part was that he’d somehow managed to look good tonight, still ridiculous, obviously. But the long dark coat hanging loose over his striped shirt combined with the festival lights and confident grin made him annoyingly attractive. Which was deeply inconvenient for you, especially when he noticed you staring. 

“Oh?” Buggy leaned closer with a smirk. “See something you like, lover?” 

“No.” 

“You're a bad liar.” 

“You’re insufferable.” 

“And yet your eyes keep wandering all over this.” You immediately looked away and Buggy’s grin widened in victory.  

Before he could say something even more unbearable, loud cheers erupted further down the harbor. A crowd had gathered around a massive gambling ring near the docks. Buggy’s eyes practically sparkled. “Oh, now that looks promising.” 

“That sentence has never led to anything good.” 

Too late. He was already dragging you through the crowd by the hand. The gambling ring sat beneath strings of lantern light where pirates and wealthy tourists shouted over piles of beli stacked on long tables. Dice rolled across velvet while cards snapped between skilled fingers. 

And at the center stood a massive man covered in gold jewelry laughing loudly as terrified players lost money around him. “Ah,” Buggy said brightly. “I hate him already.” 

You glanced sideways. “Do you know him?” 

“No.” 

“Then why?” 

“He looks smug.”  

Fair enough. The gold-covered man noticed Buggy almost immediately, and recognition flashed across his face a grin that a shiver down your spine spread slowly across his face. 

“Well, well,” the man boomed. “If it isn’t the great clown himself.” Several nearby conversations died instantly as people turned and started to whisper among themselves. Buggy stiffened beside you almost imperceptibly. 

Buggy recovered quickly, flashing his usual arrogant grin. “Always nice to be recognized.” 

“And who’s this?” the man asked, looking you over openly. 

Buggy’s hand tightened around yours instantly. “My fiancée.” 

“Fiancée, huh?” The man laughed loudly. “Didn’t think you had the guts for commitment, clown.” 

Buggy smiled, coldly. “Oh, I’m full of surprises.” The atmosphere shifted subtly, but you felt it immediately. Because beneath all the jokes and dramatics, Buggy was still dangerous when he wanted to be. 

The man grinned wider. “Then let’s make things interesting.” 

Buggy tilted his head. “Go on.” 

“A game.” The man gestured toward the gambling table. “Winner takes the pot.” 

Buggy scoffed. “Please. I don’t need your money.” 

“Maybe not,” the man agreed. “But if you lose” His eyes slid toward you. “Your fiancée spends the evening on my arm instead.” 

The harbor seemed to go silent and you could feel your stomach dropped. Several pirates nearby immediately backed away from the table as they looked at Buggy. He had stopped smiling entirely. One hand slowly curled into a fist at his side; the man either didn’t notice or was too stupid to care. 

You looked at Buggy carefully, his expression was unreadable now beneath the lantern light, but like a switch flipping he laughed. “Oh,” he said. “You’re dead.” 

The man barked another laugh. “Scared to lose?” 

Buggy stepped forward slowly. “No,” he said pleasantly. “I’m deciding how painful I want this to be.” Several weapons quietly appeared in detached hands around him. 

The crowd shifted nervously. You touched Buggy’s arm lightly before this turned into fight and his gaze snapped toward you instantly. And just like that, the rage softened slightly. You stepped beside him. “Don’t.” 

“He just bet you like property.” 

“I noticed.” 

“I could kill him.” 

“You say that very casually.” 

Buggy looked genuinely confused. “Well, yes.” And something in your stomach flipped again, but it was a warm feeling at the same time. 

The gold-covered man laughed again. “What’s wrong, clown? Afraid your fiancée prefers real men?” 

Bad choice of words. Buggy’s smile returned immediately, but it somehow felt more threatening. Then he leaned down near your ear. “Sweetheart,” he murmured, “would it ruin the romance if I blew this entire dock up?” 

You bit back a laugh. “Probably.” 

“Tch. Tragic.” Then, before you could stop him, Buggy turned dramatically toward the gambling table and slammed both hands down onto the velvet. “Fine!” he announced loudly. “One game!” 

“You cannot be serious,” you hissed.  

Buggy leaned sideways slightly, very quietly, so only you could hear: “I need access to the ship behind the docks.” You glanced toward the harbor where a heavily guarded ship floated beyond the festival lights. 

Marine patrols surrounded it and whatever Buggy wanted from there, this entire fake engagement chaos suddenly made a lot more sense. “You planned this,” you realized. 

Buggy grinned sideways. “I prefer the term improvisational genius.” 

Before you could respond, the gold-covered man slammed dice onto the table. “Let’s play, clown.” 

Buggy rolled his shoulders lazily before flashing you a dramatic wink. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he announced loudly. “Your beloved future husband is about to commit several crimes for you.” You groaned into your hands and the crowd cheered. 

The game lasted exactly four minutes before it devolved into absolute chaos. Honestly, you expected nothing less from Buggy. “At last!” the gold-covered pirate shouted as the dice rolled across the velvet table. “Looks like luck finally abandoned you, clown!” The crowd leaned forward. Lantern light flickered across mountains of beli stacked between the players while fireworks exploded over the harbor behind them. 

Buggy stared at the dice dramatically, then sighed. “You know,” he said sadly, “I really tried to do this peacefully.” 

The pirate frowned. “What?” 

Buggy looked up, grinned, and snapped his fingers. The gambling table exploded. People screamed as ards, dice, and piles of money launched into the air while smoke burst upward in a violent cloud. Pirates scattered in every direction as detached Buggy hands flew through the chaos stealing wallets with terrifying efficiency. 

“What the hell?!” someone yelled. 

“HE CHEATED!” 

“WAS THAT A CANNON!” 

Buggy cackled loudly as the entire harbor erupted into panic. “RUN, SWEETHEART!” 

You barely had time to react before he grabbed your wrist and bolted through the screaming crowd. “You blew up the table!” 

“It was distracting!” 

“That’s your solution to everything!” 

“And yet it keeps working!” Marines shouted somewhere behind you. The harbor instantly split into chaos as soldiers rushed toward the explosion while terrified civilians flooded the docks. Away from the heavily guarded ship. 

“You created a diversion.” 

Buggy looked deeply offended. “Please. I created art.” 

“You’re insane.” 

“And brilliant.” That too, unfortunately. The two of you darted between crowded festival stalls while Buggy laughed like a man having the time of his life, which he probably was. A detached hand tossed stolen coins into the air beside him like confetti. 

“Did you rob people while running?” 

“Multitasking.” 

“BUGGY.” 

“What? They weren’t using it.” 

Another explosion thundered behind you. You whipped around. “Was that you too?!” 

“Focus on the mission!” 

“The mission?!” you repeated incredulously. “You never even told me the mission!” Buggy suddenly grabbed your waist and pulled you sharply into a dark alley just as marines sprinted past the street entrance. Both of you froze as heavy footsteps thundered by while voices shouted and thhen faded. 

As the silence settled between you two, you realized very suddenly how close he was. One arm wrapped around your waist.Your chest pressed against his.Blue hair brushing your forehead beneath the dim lantern light. 

Buggy gazed down at you, and your heartbeat stumbled awkwardly. Then his detached hand floated into the alley carrying a stolen meat skewer. The moment shattered instantly. “Snack?” the hand offered. You burst out laughing. Buggy groaned dramatically. “Oh, come on! I was having a moment!” 

“You absolutely were not.” 

“I totally was!” 

“You got interrupted by your own floating arm.” 

“It lacks timing.” The hand flipped you both off and you laughed harder. 

Buggy stared at you for a second before something softer crossed his expression, fondness. It vanished almost immediately beneath his usual grin, but you caught it. And suddenly the alley felt much smaller. Buggy cleared his throat loudly before stepping back. “Right! Important criminal business.” 

You crossed your arms. “You owe me answers.” 

“I owe you many things. Answers are negotiable.” 

“Buggy.” 

He sighed dramatically before finally jerking his thumb toward the harbor. 

“That marine ship?” he said. “They’re transporting something valuable tonight.” 

“Valuable how?” 

Buggy’s eyes glittered. 

“Treasure-map valuable.” 

Ah, of course, you should’ve known. “And your plan,” you said slowly, “was to fake an engagement, start a riot, and rob marines during a city-wide festival.” 

Buggy puffed up proudly. “Thank you.” 

“That wasn’t a compliment.” 

“It sounded admiring.” Before you could argue, distant whistles echoed across the harbor.  Buggy’s expression sharpened instantly. “They might have any idea of what we are after.” 

“Meaning?” 

“Meaning,” he said with sudden excitement, “we’re improvising again.” 

“That phrase keeps making my life worse.” Buggy grabbed your hand before sprinting from the alley and the harbor had become complete madness now. Festival lights reflected across dark ocean water while Marines pushed through crowds searching for suspects. Smoke from the explosions drifted between buildings as pirates fled in every direction. 

And through all of it, Buggy dragged you straight toward the restricted docks. “You have no survival instincts!” you shouted. 

“I have excellent survival instincts!” 

“You just started a panic.” 

“Yes, but stylishly!” 

“You are insane!” 

“And you’re holding my hand voluntarily!” You immediately tried pulling away. Buggy tightened his grip with a grin. “Too late now, sweetheart.” Then he stopped abruptly near the edge of the docks and you nearly crashed into him. 

“What?” Your voice died instantly. The marine ship towered above the water ahead of you, lanterns glowing along polished decks lined with armed guards. 

And standing at the center of the dock leading aboard, was the Marine captain from the hotel. Waiting. “Well,” the captain called calmly, sword already drawn, “that didn’t take long.” 

Buggy clicked his tongue annoyed.  The captain’s gaze slid toward your joined hands, then narrowed. “You planned this together.” 

Buggy grinned lazily. “Aw, you think we’re coordinated.” 

The air at the docks went still in a way that didn’t belong near a harbor full of chaos. Marines shouting in the distance. Festival fireworks cracking overhead. Waves slamming gently against the hull of the ship like nothing important was happening at all. Everything had narrowed down to a sword, a grin, and a hand still holding yours. 

The Marine captain’s gaze stayed locked on the two of you. “So it was a distraction.” 

Buggy the Clown tilted his head like he was genuinely offended. “A distraction?” he echoed. “That implies I needed to do something to draw attention.” 

You muttered, “You absolutely did not need help drawing attention.” 

“See?” Buggy pointed at you. “Supportive fiancée.” 

The captain’s eyes sharpened. “Drop the act. We know you’re after the ship’s cargo.” 

Buggy sighed dramatically, then let go of your hand. The absence of it was immediate in a way you didn’t like noticing. “Oh,” Buggy said lightly, rolling his shoulders. “So we’re skipping the banter part.” One of his detached hands drifted lazily beside him, twirling a knife between its fingers. “Good,” Buggy continued. “I hate small talk.” 

The captain raised his sword slightly. “Surrender.” 

Buggy blinked, then smiled. “You Marines always say that part like it means something,” he said. 

A beat of silence, then the tension broke. Buggy moved first and he was fast. Too fast for someone who usually made a performance out of every step. His detached hands splitting in multiple directions like they were choreographed to chaos itself. The captain blocked the first strike, but not the second. You barely registered the clash of metal before Buggy was already behind him. 

“You know what I like about festivals?” Buggy called casually. 

The captain twisted, just barely avoiding a slash. “What?” the Marine snapped. 

Buggy grinned. “Everyone’s already yelling.” 

A cannon fired somewhere behind you and the dock shook. You stumbled back, and Buggy’s arm shot out, catching your wrist without looking, while still fighting. That should have scared you more. Instead, your pulse jumped for an entirely different reason. 

His gaze flicked between you and Buggy. “You’re not just robbing us,” he realized. 

Buggy laughed. “I’m a pirate stealing is kind of what we do.” 

The captain’s expression hardened. “You’re using them.”   

Buggy stopped moving, but only for second. “Careful,” he said softly. “That’s a dangerous accusation.” 

The captain lifted his sword. “Is it wrong?” 

You looked at Buggy, really looked. Waiting for the joke, a deflection of some kind, even his normal dramatic nonsense. 

Instead, he didn’t look at the captain, no he looked at you. It was like he was checking something and was deciding something at the same time. Then he exhaled. “Yeah,” Buggy said finally. “I would never use them for something as boring as a distraction.” 

He snapped his fingers and the dock exploded in color, confetti, smoke bombs, fireworks bursting in sudden violent beauty across the harbor. The sound swallowed everything. 

The Marines shouted in confusion and the captain raised his arm to shield his eyes all while Buggy pulled you behind him. “Move,” he said under his breath. 

You darted across the shaking dock as Marines scrambled through smoke and color. Buggy was holding your hand again, steady, guiding you straight toward the ship’s gangplank “You’re enjoying this too much,” you shouted over the noise. 

“I always enjoy winning,” he shot back. 

“That’s not what I meant!”  

He glanced at you briefly. “I know.” That answer shouldn’t have made your stomach twist, but it did. Behind you, the Marine captain barked orders through the chaos. Buggy stopped at the base of the ramp, causing you to almost collided with him. 

“What now?” you asked quickly. Instead, he looked up at the Marine ship and then down at you. 

“You can leave,” he said. 

You blinked. “What?” 

Buggy shrugged like it didn’t matter. “You’ve done enough. Marines are focused on me now. You get away and maybe you don’t get in trouble from Crocodile.” 

The words should’ve felt like relief, but they didn’t. Because he still hadn’t let go of your hand. “And you?” You asked. 

Buggy hesitated, then forced a smile again “I’ve got a treasure map to steal.” 

You stared at him. There was still fireworks were still going off behind you. The harbor still burning in noise and light. Marines still shouting somewhere in the distance. 

But right here, it was somehow quiet. “You’re really just going to let me walk away?” you asked. 

Buggy opened his mouth and closed it. Then laughed once, short and sharp. “Don’t make this weird,” he said. But his grip tightened instead of letting go. That told you everything his mouth wasn’t saying.  

The silence between you and Buggy the Clown stretched longer than it had any right to. But right here, at the base of the Marine ship’s ramp, everything felt too still. Buggy’s grip on your hand was the only thing keeping you anchored in it. “You can leave,” he repeated, like saying it again might make it easier. “Seriously. No one’s stopping you.” 

You looked at him, really looked. “I’m not walking away,” you said. 

For a second, nothing happened. Buggy just stared at you. Like his brain had stopped working properly. Then he scoffed, too fast. “Tch. Don’t get sentimental,” he said, but his voice came out slightly wrong. “This isn’t a romance. It’s a very profitable misunderstanding.” 

You squeezed his hand. “You were going to let me go,” you said quietly. 

“That was the plan,” he snapped immediately. 

“Why?” 

Buggy looked away toward the ship instead, because looking at you seemed harder now. 

“Because you weren't supposed to be a part of this,” he said finally. The wind shifted across the dock, carrying smoke and salt and the faint noise of collapsing festival lights. 

You didn’t let go and neither did he. “So that’s it?” you asked. “You just drop me here like I was never part of it?” 

Buggy’s smile twitched. “Hey,” he said sharply, “you got a very memorable experience.” 

“That’s not an answer.” 

“It’s a good one.” 

“Buggy.” 

“This is the safest option for you.” That finally snapped something in you. 

You stepped closer, pulling him closer to you. “You didn’t let go when they showed up,” you said. Buggy went still. “You didn’t let go in the alley,” you continued. Still nothing. “And you’re still holding my hand right now.” That did it, his fingers tightened once, just slightly and then loosened like he realized it 

“Yeah,” he said quietly. 

You softened your voice. “So why are you acting like I’m not already part of it?” 

“You don’t get it,” he muttered. 

“Then explain it.” 

He let out a sharp laugh. “Oh, sure. ‘Hey, come risk your life for a clown with a bounty the size of a kingdom because he’s fun at parties.’ Technically Crocodile is your captain not me, I can’t order you are around like that.” 

“It sounds like you’re deciding for me.” 

Buggy’s jaw tightened. “I’m not deciding for you,” he snapped. “I’m trying to make sure you don’t regret it later.” 

You tilted your head slightly. “Regret what?” 

Buggy didn’t answer immediately, the Marine ship creaked above you, massive and waiting. Behind it, the harbor continued to burn with chaos he’d created. And still, he looked at you like this was the hardest thing he’d done all night. “This,” he said finally, quieter. “Me.” 

You stared at him, then at your joined hands. “You really think I’m just going to walk away because you told me to?” you asked. 

Buggy’s eye narrowed slightly. “People usually do.” 

“Yeah,” you said. “I’m noticing a pattern of you assuming I’m like those people.” You stepped even closer now, voice lowering. “You made a fake fiancé out of me in a casino full of marines,” you said. “I kissed you in front of the marines and you dragged me into a riot that you caused. ” Buggy stiffened slightly at kiss part.  “And now you’re telling me I’m not part of this?” you finished. “That sounds like I’m already in it.” 

Buggy’s expression cracked. “Yeah, well,” he muttered, “that’s kind of the problem.” 

You raised an eyebrow. “For who?” 

He finally looked at you properly again. “For me, I don’t want anything to happen to you.”  

Your breath caught. 

“Buggy...” He kissed you before you could say anything else. It wasn’t smooth but it wasn’t like to hotel. It felt almost frustrated, like he’d been trying not to do this for hours and finally lost the fight with himself. One hand caught your waist hard enough to pull you against him while the other stayed tangled with your fingers like he still refused to let go completely. 

Fireworks burst somewhere above the harbor, color flashing across closed eyes and smoke-heavy air, but the sound felt distant compared to the sharp jump of your heartbeat. And somehow beneath all the chaos, there was hesitation there too, like he still expected you to pull away. 

But you didn’t, the second you kissed him back, something in him broke completely. His grip tightened. A quiet sound caught in his throat before he buried it by kissing you harder, all heat and adrenaline and months worth of carefully avoided feelings collapsing at once. 

When he finally pulled back, it wasn’t far. His forehead nearly rested against yours, breath uneven. “.Well,” Buggy muttered after a second, voice rougher than before. “That probably made things worse.” 

You stared at him. “For the Marines?” you asked softly. 

Buggy grinned again at last, “No,” he said. “For me, but that's okay.” A cannon fired somewhere behind you, snapping your two attention back to the situation at hand. “Since you’re staying, you stick with me and one rule,” Buggy said, pointing dramatically at you. “Don’t die.” 

“That’s your rule?” 

“It’s a very important rule.” You shook your head slightly, despite the smile threatening to show. 

Buggy glanced at the ship again and then back at you, giving you a quick kiss. “Let’s get that map.” 

~~~~~ Bonus Scene ~~~~~ 

Crocodile didn’t look up from his papers when you walked in. “Sit,” said Crocodile flatly. You sat down quickly, not wanting to upset him. A cigar glowed faintly between his fingers. He flipped a page, then another and the silence stretched. So, you waited. 

Finally, “Explain,” Crocodile said. 

You blinked. “Explain what?” 

That earned you a slow, tired glance. The kind that suggested he already knew everything and was just deciding how annoyed he should be about it. “This,” he said. He dropped the newspaper onto the desk and slid across polished wood. 

The headline read “BUGGY THE CLOWN HAS LOVER?” Underneath was a picture of the two of you kissing on the dock. You couldn’t completely tell it was you, but Crocodile knew. Hell, when you two made it back, Buggy was telling everyone you two were together.  

You exhaled through your nose. “Oh.” 

Crocodile’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Oh,” he repeated. 

You gestured vaguely. “Well, you heard we got together, I just didn’t realize this was going around in the news” 

Crocodile leaned back slightly in his chair as sand began to swirl around him. “So,” he said slowly, “will the clown’s personal life affect my assistant's ability to perform their job.” 

You hesitated, then decided honesty was safer, “It shouldn’t impact my ability to perform my job.” You said carefully. 

Crocodile tapped ash into a tray. “You are my assistant,” he said. 

“Yes.” 

“And you are also on my payroll.” 

“Yes.” 

“And you are currently classified as ‘Buggy’s lover in marine intelligence reports.” 

You sighed. “Well, it is accurate.” 

Crocodile stared at you for a long moment, and his cigar embers glowed faintly. “You truly like that idiot clown?” Crocodile asked. 

You didn’t hesitate this time. “Yes.” 

Another long silence, then Crocodile leaned back again, exhaling slowly. “Of all the variables I expected to impact the Cross Guild,” he muttered, “your emotional entanglement with that clown was not one of them. I honestly thought it would have been Mihawk, he seemed more your type.” 

You smile lightly, “Buggy would be offended by that.” 

“I am not concerned with offending him.” Crocodile said immediately. 

You studied him. “So, am I in trouble?” 

That got a pause, Crocodile looked at you for a long moment debating his answer, “For now no,” he said. “But the clown will not interfere with any of the assignments that I give you.” 

You nodded; that was totally fair. 

Crocodile stood and with that the meeting was over. As you reached the door, his voice stopped you. “One more thing.” You turned, Crocodile didn’t look at you directly as he reached for another cigar, “If the clown causes you any troubles let me know.” 

pull yourself together.

just for fun, i thought i'd redraw an old soapbox comic to see how much i've improved! you can read the original from 2 years ago here.