Numbers Game

by TurtleTaub

Summary:

You left your stable/boring life as an investment banker to have some adventure. Unfortunately, that sweet Warlord of the Sea didn't follow your financial advice, and now you and your clown are at the mercy of his biggest lender, and his new business partner.

Notes:

The reader starts out with Buggy, so Crocodile and Mihawk will be enemies to the reader at first. Crocodile in particular is a VILLAIN toward the reader at first, threatening violence and there's a mention of paying off debts by selling Buggy and reader into slavery, as he threatened in the anime.

!!Please do not read this if toxic, threatening relationships are triggering for you. Dynamics will shift after the initial chapters, but he's still a villain and I wrote him that way in this fic. It's very much dark romance style/bad guys need love too/Mafia boss type vibe.

I hope you enjoy it!

~

Spoiler Warning:
This fic currently contains spoilers for the end of the Wano arc, as of Chapter 33. As we get further into Egghead Arc where our lovely boys are showing up more, there will be more spoilers as time goes on.
Spoiler Warning EDIT:
Fic contains spoilers for current OP plotlines!!! Sorry y'all, I'm trying to keep most spoilers to small or vague details, but Cross Guild is endgame, lol.

Chapter 1: You Won’t Be Bored With Us

Summary:

You left your stable/boring life as an investment banker to have some adventure. Unfortunately, that sweet Warlord of the Sea didn't follow your financial advice, and now you and your clown are at the mercy of his biggest lender, and his new business partner.

*No smut in the first chapter

Notes:

This chapter starts with the reader being in a relationship with Buggy, and Crocodile and Mihawk are their enemies. Crocodile in particular is very much a villain! Please read the tags and the work notes, and do not read if these themes may be triggering to you.

Things will change in the following chapters, but it is very much dark romance style enemies to loves.

I hope you enjoy it!

Fuck, my sister was right. 

“Hurry it up, Y/N, it’s time to go!”

“But, Captain Buggy,” you matched his near frantic whisper, “Your crew are calling for you. Don’t you need to give them orders?”

“Fine, fine! Just keep packing!”

You barely heard the commands and lies that he spewed from the balcony, your hands shaking as your mistakes blared through your mind.

You’d been so bored. You had a good, stable life. You were great at your job. You’d started at a bank, and soon you were managing investments for wealthy clients who didn’t want to do their own work to stay wealthy.

You were so good with numbers. So good at helping your clients make smart, safe choices.

Yet here you were, about to get killed by the fucking Navy because you’d wanted a little adventure.

The screams started getting louder, and you heard what had to be explosions, luckily not close by. Yet. 

Kat told me this clown would get me killed.

Tears burned in your eyes as you pictured your sister’s face, pinched with worry and shock.

“He works for the government now! I’m going to help run his organization, I’ll handle the finances, and his mercenaries will help the Navy out.”

“Are you fucking insane? He’s a Warlord! Not some Navy officer,” Kat almost yelled, face red as she leaned toward you.

“I… He’s different, okay. He’s really sweet,” you mumbled, looking down as your fingers twisted in your lap.

“Oh my fucking gods, Y/N, did you fuck that clown? What has gotten into you?”

You didn’t know what you were grabbing and packing, tears streaming freely now.

“Captain! The warships around the island are getting attacked!”

“Who’s helping us,” Buggy screamed, and the confusion and hope in his voice made you drop everything.

Racing to the balcony, you were just in time to watch two Navy warships go down in flames.

Desperate hope filled you now, and you reached for his hand.

He pulled away as news of who your savior was came closer, shouts of triumph sending chills through you, freezing Buggy in place.

“It’s Crocodile! He really does work for Chairman Buggy! We’re saved!”

Crocodile. Crocodile!

All those berries, drained away with Buggy’s antics. All those berries that you were technically supposed to be in charge of. 

All of it was Crocodile’s.

“Buggy, Buggy, please. Where can we hide?”

He turned at your hoarse whisper, his mouth hanging wide in shock.

“Buggy!”

“We don’t have the money to pay him. He’s gonna kill me!”

His strained voice grated your nerves as you pulled on his hand, dragging him away from the balcony, and the adoring eyes of his henchmen.

He was near babbling as you pulled him along, searching for anywhere to hide. 

A frustrated sob left your throat as you remembered what you’d been feeling recently, even with his idiotic spending, and refusal to listen to your words of reason.

I thought I was falling for him.

But the sight of him falling apart now, not only failing to protect you, but even himself, was making you regret every single moment.

Your heart felt raw, burning more with each yank on his hand, especially since his hand was only connected to that fucking pouch he likes to wear.

Then that hand was torn away from yours, Buggy’s yelp making you jump. 

Buggy went flying over your head, sliding down the hallway with a grunt. 

Before you could turn around, you were encased in someone's shadow. You shook as you felt the heat of a body, inches from you. The first thing you saw was the glinting gold of a massive hook, then you had to crane your neck. 

Towering above you was a man in lavish clothes, a purple vest with an orange scarf, and a fur coat. He seemed to be ignoring you, his cigar dangerously close to dropping ash onto your hair.

You felt like prey, like a rabbit. Shivering in fear, just waiting for the wolf to walk away or devour you.

“I know you,” he directed at Buggy, his deep voice rumbling through you. “I thought you’d try to flee without paying me back.”

I’m so close to him. How can he tell I’m so weak? If I had a weapon I could try to hurt him.

As if he could read your thoughts, Crocodile looked down at you, tapping his cigar off to the side before the ashes fell. 

“I don’t know you.”

Your mouth gaped open as you stared into his cold, scarred face.

“Well, you see, Crocodile,” Buggy started bullshitting, moving closer. “Buggy’s Delivery Service may look like it’s doing well, but we’ve, uh… We’ve lost a lot of our big earners, and…”

Buggy trailed on, spouting excuses that made you want to scream at him, until you felt his hand grip the back of your shirt. 

He slowly pulled you backward, away from Crocodile. New tears fell as your pathetic clown tried to shift his body in front of yours, shielding you.

He was too late.

The sting of cold metal wrapped around your neck as Crocodile’s hook captured you, like the prey you were.

He yanked you up, until your toes were barely scraping along the ground as he looked you over.

“If you can’t pay, clown, we can sell you into slavery. I wonder how much your woman is worth.”

“Come on, Crocodile,” Buggy drawled, inching closer again. “Don’t say such horrible things! We broke out of Impel Down together, didn’t we?”

“I lent you money for that sake,” he countered calmly, before looming over Buggy with even more danger edging his voice. “But if you can’t pay, you’ll have to take full responsibility.”

“Responsibility,” Buggy choked out, eyes flicking to you when you gasped from Crocodile's movements.

“I’m gonna found a new company, so I need money now.”

You could see the frantic wheels spinning in Buggy’s head before he puffed himself up, making his body look huge as he spread his limbs out in the red fabric.

“Then, let me help you with that business! This former Warlord of the Sea will serve under you. I’ll work off my debt! We have great resources!”

You brought your hands up to hold onto the hook as Crocodile lifted you even higher. You couldn’t tell if he was doing it on purpose, or if he had just forgotten that he was holding you there. You watched Buggy try to sell the plan, try to save you both. 

“We have advertising design, printing, transportation, and the finest financial adviser on the seas.”

Buggy emphasized the last with jazz hands shaking wildly in your direction, and you cringed.

Crocodile hummed, setting you on the ground in front of him, but still tugging on your neck with that cold metal as he looked you over. You let out a breath when he released your neck, but then the sharp point of the hook traced teasingly on your cheek, stopping your breath entirely.

“W-Wait, come on, Croc. We’re pals! You don’t need to–”

“If you’re in charge of the finances,” Crocodile breathed down on you, ignoring Buggy’s pleas, “then it’s your fault that all my money is gone, isn’t it?”

You started to shake your head, but the cold prick of metal held you frozen.

“No, it wasn’t her fault,” Buggy almost yelled, voice missing its chummy tone now. “Please, we didn’t– I didn’t follow her advice. Tell him baby, you’ve got all those plans you made, right? The investments?”

Your eyes clenched shut, a wave of tears cascading down as he defended you.

“Is that true, girl? Did you try to keep this idiot from wasting all my money?”

His breath was hot on your face as he leaned over you. Your lip quivered as you waited for him to open his jaws, and swallow you whole.

“Tell me.”

“I… I created a plan to manage those funds, using much of them to invest and create reciprocal income for the organization.”

His eyes burned into you, silently demanding more.

“Unfortunately, I was not able to go forward with those plans,” you said weakly, eyes looking down, seeking freedom from his glare.

“I wonder why that could be, hmm?” 

He brought his hand to your face now, huge fingers gripping your chin to force your eyes back to his.

“Tell me why all of my money is gone. You are the financial advisor, aren’t you? Should I bleed the berries out of you?”

“No, I’m sorry,” you stuttered, eyes fluttering down again until his grip on your face became painful.

“It’s okay, baby,” you heard whispered behind you.

“Ca-Captain Buggy did not follow the financial plans that I laid out for him, or my recommendations to adjust spending when funds became low.”

Crocodile’s lip twitched up, and he released you, making you stumble.

He reached for Buggy, hitting him again until he slid across the floor.

“No, please!”

“Why are you crying for this potato sack? He nearly got you killed.”

The menacing man sighed as you failed to speak, then grabbed Buggy by the hair.

“Don’t worry, we’re not killing him yet. Go get your paperwork, I wanna see if you really are a numbers girl.”

Shame flooded you as you nodded, doing nothing as Buggy was dragged away like trash. 

There’s nothing I can do. Numbers, money, that’s all I’m good at. 

Taking a deep breath, you reminded yourself that you are really good at that. And maybe that skill could help you get out of here alive. 

Maybe I can help Buggy after all. 

~ 

That sliver of hope vanished when you walked through the door, your briefcase in hand.

Off to the side you saw Buggy’s officers, eating and laughing happily, as if nothing had happened. 

As if their Captain’s head wasn’t dangling from Crocodile's hand, bruised and bloodied while that hook kept shoving against his skin.

Crocodile was seated on the plush, green couch, using Buggy’s limp body as a foot rest. He held Buggy’s head over the middle of the couch, between him and another man.

The other man’s cold, amber eyes felt like blades through your skin as you froze in the doorway. You recognized him, though you’d hoped you’d never meet the swordsman in person.

Dracule Mihawk. What the fuck has my life turned into?

Buggy coughed, spitting out a piece of paper. That stupid fucking flyer his men had made. 

They hadn’t even waited for approval before spending the money on printing and distributing it. You’d wanted to strangle every fucking dumbass that touched it when you saw the bill.

“The word ‘humiliation’ isn’t enough to express how I feel,” Crocodile growled, as Buggy apologized for the Cross Guild poster, showing Buggy as their leader. 

“As much as I’d like to kill him,” Mihawk mused, his voice filled with calm disdain, “it’s not a bad idea to have him as our figurehead. I would rather live peacefully than become an Emperor of the Sea.”

He stood gracefully, heading to the counter to pour himself a glass of wine. He turned to look back, his head tilted like an animal watching for prey.

“Let him take the heat, and we can get rid of him whenever we want.”

“You’re right,” Crocodile laughed, shoving his hook into Buggy’s mouth.

You let out a choked gasp, grateful that they weren't going to kill him now, but feeling the looming threat that the future held.

And there were Galdino, Alvida, and even Mohji and Cabaji, ignoring his pain, laughing and stuffing their faces. Their betrayal made you ache for Buggy.

Until you remembered the danger you were still in. 

I’m betraying him too. I’m going to work for these men. I’m going to stay alive.

“Who is this,” Mihawk drawled as he took his seat again.

“Uh, I–”

“This might be our numbers girl. If she proves herself,” Crocodile threatened, dropping Buggy’s head onto the floor behind the couch, before patting the cushion beside him. 

“Come here, girl. Show us how useful you can be.”

With wide eyes, you walked toward them, avoiding stepping on Buggy’s body as you sat between the two terrifying men. 

Crocodile’s arm rested on the back of the couch behind you, so you sat slightly forward, avoiding his touch. 

Mihawk tilted toward you, and you found yourself staring at the beautifully embroidered details of his black and gold coat, avoiding looking at his bare chest and abs between the rich fabric.

He cleared his throat, making you jolt, before bringing your shaky fingers to unlatch the briefcase. You struggled, gasping when Mihawk reached over your lap to open it for you.

“Gods, Galdino, will you bring this girl a drink," Crocodile huffed, and you could feel his eyes on you. "Where the fuck did the clown pick up such a skittish little thing, huh?”

You focused on your paperwork, pulling out some of the plans you’d initially brought to help manage the funding Crocodile had provided. 

Mihawk took them gingerly from your hands as Galdino passed you a glass of wine. You were sure that he must be pissed at being ordered to serve you like a waiter.

You chugged the whole glass of wine, closing your eyes while Crocodile chuckled, and Mihawk reviewed your work. 

“It’s well done,” he praised, handing it to his partner. “These skills will be helpful with getting this operation running.”

“As long as the idiots in charge actually listen, of course” Crocodile joked, flipping through the pages. 

He tossed the papers aside, motioning for Galdino to fill your glass again.

“Sorry about all of that in the hallway. You work for us now.”

“Okay,” you breathed out, barely audible.

The back of his hook touched your face, the smooth metal guiding you to look at him.

He studied you for a moment, and your brain tried to make sense of him, of what was happening. His black hair was slicked back, a few stray strands falling over his forehead. The long scar across the middle of his face made your brain hurt. You couldn’t imagine what kind of wound that must have been.

His deep set eyes were judging you, and you fought every instinct to hold his gaze instead of running. 

Finally, he let out a low laugh.

“When I find something of value, I protect it. Do your job well, and you’ll be taken care of. Better than with this clown, that’s for sure.”

You winced as his foot dug into Buggy’s body, eliciting a moan from the man who’d brought you here. 

Chewing the inside of your lip, you sipped on your second drink as they discussed plans to announce the lie that Buggy really is the leader. 

They don’t need me here. I’ll just go to my room.

Each time you almost stood, or asked to be excused, your brain went blank. You just sat there, between these two ex Warlords, these two men who radiated power. The night went on, until all of Buggy’s betrayers trickled out.

“Wait.”

Crocodile’s deep voice commanded as you stood to follow Alvida and Galdino out, desperate to not be alone with these men. But here you were.

“What’s your name? Unless you want us to call you Numbers Girl.”

You settled on the couch, still sitting away from the back to keep from leaning against Crocodile’s arm.

“It’s Y/N.”

“I am curious, Y/N,” Mihawk spoke up, swirling his wine in its glass. “How such an intelligent and attractive woman ended up with this pathetic clown.”

“Please, leave her alone,” Buggy’s weak voice creaked up from behind the couch.

“It’s just curiosity,” Mihawk continued, and you couldn’t help meeting his golden gaze, his large hat tilting down toward you.

“Come, Y/N,” Crocodile joined in, “I could use a laugh. How did you end up with Buggy?”

“We… We met at a bar.”

They stared, and your skin practically crawled at the pressure for more.

“I’m an– I was an investment banker. I was having a drink after work, and overheard Buggy discussing his new organization. I offered my services.”

You shifted your head slightly to look back and forth at them, and their confused faces almost made you laugh. Almost.

“Why,” Crocodile asked, his deep voice almost dangerous as he demanded an explanation. Mihawk just cleared his throat, and took another sip. 

You wanted to comfort Buggy. To remind him that you’d been drawn to him. That he was funny, and sweet, and that your time together that night was what made you want to join him. 

But you knew the real reason you chose to go with Buggy, and you knew they’d only punish you both if you talked about being with him. So you told the truth.

“I was bored.”

It felt like the air around you shifted. The weight of their stares, and the sound of their low laughter made your skin flush with heat.

They both leaned forward, surrounding you as they brought their glasses to tap against yours.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Crocodile’s husky voice rumbled beside you. “You won’t be bored with us.”

Notes:

I hope you enjoyed this first chapter! It hurt beating up my Buggy boy like this, but I made it through, lol

Chapter 2: Isn’t That Right, Little Rabbit?

Summary:

Crocodile and Mihawk make sure that you understand the details of your new arrangement, starting with where you'll be sleeping.

Notes:

Once again, these boys are VILLAINS. Dynamics are already shifting, but they are possessive, controlling, and not so subtly threatening to the reader, plus violent toward Buggy. Please do not read if these themes may be triggering for you!

“Let’s get an early start tomorrow. You’ve got a lot of work to do, numbers girl,” Crocodile teased, a hint of threat in every word. “Do you have your own quarters, or did you sleep in his tent?”

He gestured to the beaten body at your feet, and your mouth went dry.

“I…”

Mihawk shifted beside you, his eyes piercing, always judging.

“You were gonna run away with him,” Crocodile continued. “We can’t have that, not when you need to make that money back.” 

You stared at your knees, shaking your head slightly.

“Let’s go find some nice rooms then, and you can have one between Mihawk and I.”

“D-Don’t touch her.”

Buggy’s muffled demand made the men on the couch laugh, the deep sounds vibrating through you. You bit your lip to hold in a sob.

“Looks like you’ll be useful in keeping the clown in line as well,” Mihawk mused, his monotone voice doing nothing to calm your fear.

“Don’t fret, numbers girl,” Crocodile said, finally moving his arm on the back of the couch to touch you. He rubbed his huge hand along your shoulders, sending electricity coursing through your body.

“We’re just protecting our investment,” he chuckled, hand resting on the back of your neck now, index finger tapping softly. You were frozen, heartbeat pounding in your ears. 

I bet he can feel my pulse under his fingers. He can feel my fear.

“Mihawk, why don’t you call for Mr. 3? Make him find us some adequate quarters.”

“Our arrangement doesn’t involve me taking your orders, Crocodile. Why don’t you call for your own lackey?”

“Don’t be so stiff now, swordsman. I’m gonna accompany miss Y/N to Buggy’s quarters. Make sure she packs her things.”

“Don’t frighten our little rabbit too much. We need her at her best.”

Your hands were clenching on your lap, fingernails piercing the skin of your palms.

“Agreed. But her best is as far away from that trash clown as possible. Right, Y/N,” Crocodile asked, leaning down until you felt his hot breath on your face. “He didn’t listen to you. He didn’t appreciate you, and you almost died because of his stupidity. You owe him nothing but disgust.”

He gave Buggy a light kick, and you hoped your small whimper was covered by Buggy’s groan of pain.

Mihawk’s long fingers touched your hand, gently lifting and opening your fist. He traced along the shallow crescents of blood you’d drawn, what sounded like a satisfied hum leaving his throat.

“It’s true, Y/N,” Mihawk let out, voice raspy and dangerous. “You have an opportunity to live an interesting life. Don’t disappoint us by lowering yourself for that clown.”

You were shivering now, practically vibrating beneath their soft touches.

“Say it, Y/N,” Crocodile commanded.

“Wh-What…”

He kicked Buggy again, this time sending his body across the floor. Gasping, you fought not to cry at the broken sounds Buggy was making.

“Say it.”

“I won’t… I won’t lower myself for that clown.”

Shame curled in your stomach as they both praised you, thumbs rubbing possessively over your skin. Crocodile held your neck, while Mihawk brought your hand to his mouth.

He pressed your knuckles to his lips, the chaste movement feeling sinful under his stare. Crocodile squeezed your neck ever so gently, and your eyes fluttered closed. The weight of their attention stripped you raw, your body mixing excitement and fear. 

No. No, this is wrong. Don’t react like this. 

Failing to school your breathing, you tried to ignore the heat that was pooling between your legs, an aching pressure in your core was betraying your mind. You needed to squirm, needed to press your thighs together, but you managed to hold yourself still.

These men are villains. They’re pirates. 

But Buggy is too, you thought, remembering how badly you had wanted to escape an ordinary life.

You had met one dangerous man, and you ran away with him without a second thought. Desperate for adventure, for freedom. For pleasure.

We have to get out of here. 

“You are an intriguing woman, Y/N,” Mihawk’s voice practically purred beside you. “Let’s get some rest. I’m looking forward to watching you work.”

Mihawk sipped his wine as he watched you stand, Crocodile guiding you out into the hall. 

“Lead the way, sweetheart.”

Thankfully, he wasn’t touching you anymore, but your body still felt electric. Even the press of air as you walked felt delicious on your sensitive skin.

Guilt hit you like a ton of bricks as you walked into Buggy’s quarters. 

Crocodile puffed on his cigar as he watched you pack, his eyes assessing every movement, every item you picked up. You dug through the mess, feeling like you were outside of yourself, watching your body as it moved for you.

Yes, Buggy had put you in danger. He’d made promises he never kept. He didn’t listen to you. You watched him lie to his people, again and again, bullshitting his way through every situation.

But he didn’t deserve to be treated like a human punching bag. 

Your quivering lip brought you back into your body, tears of shame building up along your lash line, not spilling over yet. 

“That’s enough,” Crocodile huffed, picking up your bag, and pulling out a colorful top. “What sort of trash did he buy for you with my berries? We’ll have to fix this. Come on.”

He nodded toward the door, dropping that shirt onto the bed instead of returning it. Crocodile carried the bag for you, pulling away as you reached for it. 

Buggy had bought that shirt for you. He’d bought a lot of circus style clothes for you, and it had been fun to dress up with him. 

But it hadn’t felt like you, and you had started to get annoyed at all the gifts he bought for you. All the gifts that were really for him, especially when you’d begged him over and over to stop spending frivolously. 

You sighed, those ungrateful thoughts stabbing you with guilt again when you remembered the state he was in. 

Galdino scowled at you as he and Mihawk waited in the hall. Mr. 3 had clearly gone to bed already, and didn’t look pleased to be handling your sleeping arrangements. 

He kept his feelings to himself though, leading the way. 

Buggy had created this little city, Buggy Town. Karai Bari island was small, with not much more than palm trees and mountains, but he’d had his people build this town that looked like circus tents. 

You had admired it, that he built this whole thing from nothing. It had started to feel like home. 

I need to get as far away from here as possible. 

Finally walking to the end of a long hall, Galdino pointed out the two doors on opposite sides for Mihawk and Crocodile. He gestured to the door at the end of the hall, sandwiched between them, announcing that it would be yours. 

“No windows, right, Mr 3,” Crocodile checked, crossing his arms.

“Correct. I hope it’s all to your liking.”

Galdino scurried away, sparing you a quick glance. His look of annoyance was gone. Was that pity?

“Let’s take a look.”

Crocodile had opened your door, motioning for you. 

You walked in, shrinking as you passed him. It was a really nice room. Meant for guests, so it wasn’t as insanely circus themed as most rooms. 

You moved toward the bed, but froze at the heat at your back. 

Crocodile moved behind you, setting your bag down. He inspected the room, even lifting items to look underneath them, checking the walls, and behind the couch.  He stepped into the attached bathroom, and you heard the sound of drawers opening and closing.

“Come now, Crocodile. Miss Y/N is smart enough not to try anything untoward,” Mihawk drawled from the doorway. “Especially not with the two of us within earshot. Isn’t that right, little rabbit?”

“Of course, sir,” you choked out, voice hoarse with stress.

Your blood went cold at the sight of Mihawk’s lips curling into a small, pleased smile. 

“Fine,” Crocodile grumbled, thankfully heading for the door. They left your room, but the scarred man leaned back in, dark eyes holding you still.

“Be ready early. We need you to get a handle on the finances as soon as possible. You need some new clothes.”

Your lips parted at his tiny smile, and you stood dumbly for a few minutes, staring at the door he’d closed. 

It felt like hours before your body started to breathe, your knees going weak as you stumbled to the bed.

Everything replayed, your mind spinning with pain, fear, and shameful need.

Sleep seemed impossible, like you’d never meet it again. 

Buggy’s face, Buggy’s cries. 

Crocodile’s hook around your throat. 

Mihawk’s fingers tracing along your bloody palm.

Their threats, their demands. Their hands on your skin.

Tears of frustration burned your eyes, and you chewed your lip to keep from sobbing. You didn’t want to think of what they’d do to you if they heard you crying.

You felt delirious. Whiplash sent manic laughter through you, and you had to bite down on your fist, until it turned to silent sobs.

Exhaustion tormented you. Each time you got close to sleep, more shifting emotions would tear at you. 

And through it all, you fought against that. 

There was no way you could examine that, not with the pile of guilt, shame, and danger riding you. 

But the further into exhaustion you fell, and the longer your chaotic thoughts kept you from sleep, the less able you were to resist it. 

That need.

With a few more tears of guilt streaming out, you let yourself have this moment. 

It doesn’t mean anything. I just need to relax. It’s okay. 

Those comforting words faded out as your mind brought you back to that velvety, green couch. 

Crocodile’s hand was so big, you couldn’t believe how much of your shoulders and neck it had covered. You wondered if he could wrap those thick fingers all the way around your throat.

Your breathing hitched as your body heated up, hips twisting against the sheets as your legs started to spread open. 

Mihawk’s hypnotizing eyes, his lips on your knuckles. The way he’d looked so pleased when you called him ‘sir.’

Your head felt fuzzy as your hands rubbed along your skin. You touched your neck, then ran your hands along your chest, massaging your breasts through the thin fabric of your top.

You let out a quiet gasp as your fingers worked their way down your stomach, nails teasing along the skin of your hips. 

Your mind tried to stop you, flooding you with guilt again, but you shoved it out. 

Fingers dipped down, drenched with your need as you remembered that couch again. Slick was coating your thighs as you felt the heat of them surrounding you, tapping their glasses against yours. Promising you that you’d never be bored with them. 

When they both had their hands on you, you had to fight not to moan, not to grind your thighs together. You’d felt your body betray you then, your aching pussy dripping from so little touch.

Now your fingers were sliding over your clit, breath ragged as you imagined how else they could have touched you on that couch. If Mihawk’s sharp tongue could make you scream. If Crocodile’s huge fingers could make you melt in his lap. 

You were aching for more, more, your body near panicked as you chased your high. You shoved two fingers inside yourself, curling up, having to twist your body to try to reach that spot. You whimpered thinking about the swordsman's long, skilled fingers, about how big Crocodile was, how big every part of him had to be. 

Finally, your mind gave you the image of both of them taking you at once, until you drenched and ruined that gorgeous couch. The thought of them thrusting into you, taking you, using you, it sent you twitching into bliss. 

Your body was shaking, your back arched as your aching fingers fought desperately to keep going. 

You had done so well, been so quiet.

But at the last stretch of release, a moan of pleasure was torn from your throat. 

Still twitching with aftershocks, you held your breath, straining your ears.

It wasn’t loud. And it’s so late. There’s no way they could hear that. 

But Mihawk’s veiled threat echoed through your mind. 

‘Not with the two of us within earshot. Isn’t that right, little rabbit?’

You clenched your thighs together, shaking your head as you tried to comfort yourself. The fear of them hearing you touch yourself overrode your guilt over what you’d just done. 

At least you were starting to pass out now. 

Maybe this will all be a dream. And I’ll wake up. And Buggy will be okay. 

You fell asleep to comforting lies. Dreamt of deep voices, and strong hands. 

And woke to someone banging on your door. 

“Time for work, sweetheart.”

Fuck.

Notes:

Oops, I'm obsessed again.

Chapter 3: Think of Nothing Else

Summary:

Today is your first day of work for your new bosses, and they make sure you know how valued you are. The Cross Guild is officially announced, and you enjoy a glass of wine after work.

Notes:

It's a very stressful work day, y'all. Reader needs to relax 🤭🍷

“Don’t tell me you’re slacking on your first day.”

“No, sir,” you stuttered, stumbling out of bed at the threat of Crocodile’s voice on the other side of the door.

“Don’t keep us waiting,” Mihawk’s voice drawled as you stripped, emptying your bag onto the bed to search for something to wear. 

“We’ll leave a guard waiting for you. You’d better not look like a circus freak when you're done.”

Crocodile huffed, heavy steps moving away. 

You fell back against the bed, naked and clutching at your chest as your heart tried to leave your body.

“Fuck…”

You didn’t have many professional clothes left after all these months with Buggy. There were probably some hidden in his quarters still, but you doubted they’d let you go back there again. 

Miraculously, you found a black pencil skirt. The slit along your thigh was far higher than you’d have gotten away with while working at the bank, but it was the closest you could find to normal clothes. 

Everything else was neon, or had ruffles, or glitter. 

‘Look at my flashy girl.’

Buggy’s pleased voice floated through your mind, the memory making your body crave a version of him you couldn’t imagine anymore. Where was that wild pirate that had whisked you away from your boring life? Where was the man who could please you with his body in ways you’d never thought possible before?

He was probably still bleeding on the floor.

While you dealt with the consequences of his actions. 

You found a top that was a solid color, hoping that they’d ignore the fact that it was ‘Buggy Blue.’

The only shoes you had were luckily black, but they were meant to be flashy, not practical. 

We didn’t wear shoes most of the time.

Months and months in bed, excuses and laughter filling the air. Lounging, and drinking, and fucking everyday.

Was it worth it?

Stepping into the hallway with your too tall heels, you let the guard guide you back to that open room. 

With that velvet, green couch. 

“There she is,” Crocodile looked up as you entered, eyes narrowing as he scanned you. 

Mihawk was perched close by, a small, steaming mug in his hand. 

You stepped further in, and the guard closed the door behind you, leaving you alone with them.

“You’re okay?”

That small voice held so much relief, and your breath hitched as you looked for its source. 

Buggy. 

Buggy sat on the ground as he leaned against the wall, dried blood caked on his face, his makeup like a faded stain.

You cried out his name, moving toward him before you could think. 

Sand surrounded you, and you lost your footing as you stepped into a wave of it. 

“Come now, none of that.”

Mihawk’s golden eyes pierced yours as the sand fell away, your ill fitting shoes falling to the ground as the swordsman lifted you in his arms. 

He didn’t set you back down. You tried not to cling to his bare chest as he carried you toward Crocodile, and that stupid, green couch. 

You held your breath as his thumbs traced lightly over your ribs and thigh where he held you.

“Look at that,” Crocodile growled, reaching out to trace his cold hook along your calf and foot.

“The clown couldn’t even give his lady decent shoes. No wonder he couldn’t protect you, if he couldn’t even protect these pretty feet." 

You twitched in Mihawk’s warm arms, trying not to react to the tickle of that dangerous hook.

“I think our little rabbit is feeling skittish today,” Mihawk judged, setting you in the middle of the couch. He sat beside you, trapping you between them again.

“You’d better get over that quick, sweetheart. I’m not known for my patience.”

Crocodile puffed his cigar as you tried to swallow your fear, nodding at his threat. 

Your hands were clammy as you smoothed down your skirt, fighting and failing to keep the fabric from slipping down, revealing much of your thigh on Crocodile’s side. 

You settled for folding your hands together in your lap, waiting for them to strike.

“What is it you need to complete your responsibilities?”

You drew your eyes to Mihawk at his question, feeling the sticky pressure of Crocodile's gaze on your thighs.

“I, um…”

Your mouth gaped open, still feeling trapped in a dream as his eyes raked over you.

You managed to hold in a whimper as Mihawk brought his long fingers up, taking your chin by the thumb, and lifting your face to his. 

“Don’t be boring, darling. I know you want to be a good girl for us, don’t you?”

The tiny sound you made couldn’t have been a moan. I didn't...

But the way Mihawk’s jaw loosened to the side for a moment had your head spinning.

I need to get a hold of myself!

He released your chin, and you started to rattle off all the things you needed in order to do your job, including your own desk, and a transponder snail. 

You felt like an idiot for hoping for your own space when a group of pirates dragged a large desk through the door, setting it up in the center of the massive room. 

The cushions shifted as Crocodile stood, directing the pirates to ensure it was to his liking. To ensure that your desk was in perfect view of that stupid fucking couch.

Breakfast was served, and you had to choke it down, eye’s snagging on Buggy as you wondered when he’d eaten last. 

“Break’s over.”

Gasping, you pressed your skirt down with your palms as your body was lifted off the couch by another wave of sand.

You landed in Crocodile’s arms, feeling so small against his chest. The silk of his vest rubbed along your skin, an abrupt contrast from the sand he’d just touched you with.

“Wha–”

“We need to protect our assets,” he growled, carrying you toward the desk. “Earn money for some decent shoes, otherwise you don’t get to stand on those dainty toes. Got it?”

You caught Mihawk’s eyes burning along your skin as Crocodile sat you down. 

The scarred man leaned over you, brushing a few strands of hair out of your face while you tried to stay perfectly still. 

“We’ve got the big announcement tonight. I wanna see your plans for the first month's finances before the show. Can you manage that, numbers girl?”

“Yes,” you choked out, anything to get him to move away from you. 

He huffed a laugh, patting you on the back before leaving you to your work.

“Atta girl.”

~

How am I supposed to work like this?

Your new bosses talked with each other, gave orders to lackeys, smoked and drank, and watched you. 

Workers were ordered to rearrange the furniture, adding two desks along opposite walls for their own use. A long coffee table was placed before the couch, and you were grateful that there wouldn’t be room for Buggy to be a footrest anymore.

But they wouldn’t let you use the transponder snail.

“Mr. Crocodile, sir, I will need to reach my contacts in order to manage your funds and investments. I can’t do everything from here–”

“Not yet.”

His voice was heavy, and final. 

With a nod, you went back to it. Reviewing the current state of affairs was infuriating. They ordered lackeys around for you to round up missing details on assets, and anything they had brought to the island.

It looked bad.

A tinge of panic filled each breath, making your fingers shake as you shuffled papers around. You could feel a thin sheen of sweat, your flimsy top starting to stick to your skin.

You didn’t think your heart could take beating this fast for this long. 

I’m okay. I’m good at what I do. Just pretend they’re not here. 

They let you work. Fear that this was just another torture designed for your failure and punishment started to fade.

You would need that transponder snail soon to get any real work done, but you had your plans drafted up shortly after lunch.

“I’m finished, sir–”

Crocodile tutted at you as you moved to stand, using sand to push your chair forward until you were seated again. 

Mihawk stalked toward you, fingers grazing yours as he took the documents from your hands. He perched on the corner of your desk, humming now and then as he judged your work. 

“Well,” Crocodile asked from the couch, a large puff of smoke trailing toward the ceiling.

“The current status of finances is quite unfortunate. However the work is well done. It appears she will be needing a transponder snail soon if we’re going to see any improvement.”

Mihawk set the papers down and trapped you, his gaze from so close felt like a golden cage, keeping you in place. 

Crocodile huffed a laugh, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

“Looks like you’ll be getting a snail before you get shoes then, huh?”

The rest of the afternoon had you sitting as still as you could, as if they wouldn’t notice you if you didn’t move.

You watched Cabaji crouch down, and start smearing greasepaint over Buggy’s bruises, propping his huge hat on his head. He leaned close then, and you wondered if he had anything to whisper to his old captain. 

“Let’s get this over with,” Crocodile sighed, pulling Buggy to his feet, and shoving him toward the door.

“Galdino, I need you to carry miss Y/N during the announcement.”

“Wha-Why,” Galdino choked, looking from you to Crocodile, his face pinched.

“Don’t complain. I don’t trust Buggy’s men with her yet. This is the girl that’ll get us all paid, you got that?”

“Yes, Mr. Crocodile, sir.”

“And watch your hands,” he ordered, patting Mr. 3 on the back so hard that he coughed.

Humiliation flooded through you, your skin hot as you were carried through the hallway.

Mihawk and Crocodile dragged Buggy to the balcony, while you were brought to the front of the crowd to watch.

“I’m sorry,” you almost cried, not looking up at Galdino’s face. 

“It’s fine,” he let out with a heavy sigh. “It's not your fault. Just my lot in life to always answer to people weaker than me, I suppose.”

You cringed, starting to apologize again.

“Come on, we don’t want to miss this farce.”

The shuffling conversations of Buggy’s subordinates quieted down as their captain took to the small stage. The balcony was lit with colorful lights from above and behind, and Buggy stretched out his limbs to look larger than life in that red fabric of his.

He looked like your Buggy now. Buggy in his element, shining bright. There was something about him that made people flock to his charm, that made people believe in him as a leader. 

Until they saw behind the curtains, of course.

Buggy. How did you let yourself end up here? Now we’re both fucked.

You didn’t even hear his speech, your mind so used to ignoring the lies that Buggy would spew from that balcony.

Until he introduced his ‘executives.’

“First… Sir Crocodile!”

Buggy’s arm flourished, ever the showman, as Crocodile stepped into the light. 

He was so incredibly tall. Seeing him towering over you on the balcony, with the light exaggerating his features, made you feel like an insect. Just crawling on the ground, waiting for him to stomp you into the dirt.

“And… Hawkeye Mihawk!”

Mihawk’s glare was like ice, and the stage lights glinting off of his massive sword just added to his cold disdain. You knew he could kill everyone in the room easily, and he looked like it wouldn’t mean a thing to him if he did. 

Your jaw was clenching as you tried not to shiver in Galdino’s arms. 

The cheering and stomping of the crowd was so intense, you reached your hands up to cover your ears. 

But you saw them looking down on you, and you didn’t want to show them any more weakness than you already had. 

Crocodile jerked his head, motioning for you to join them. 

You gulped down some deep breaths as you were led back to your cage.

I won’t show them any more weakness.

~

Your bare feet were propped on the coffee table after dinner as you stared into your glass. The deep burgundy of the wine danced in the light as your hands shook slightly. 

“This wine is different…”

Your eyes went wide at your own words, realizing that you’d just interrupted Mihawk, and you had no idea what they’d been talking about.

“Is that so,” he asked, the weight of his attention shifting to you. “How is it different?”

Crocodile shifted beside you as well, his knee touching yours as he tilted toward you, caging you once more.

“I… It’s not like the wine we’ve had here for a while. It’s almost… heavy?”

Mihawk’s head cocked to the side as he watched you stutter.

“Give me your glass.”

The command in his voice made your breath hitch. He set his own glass down, taking yours by the stem. He held it in front of you, gently swirling it.

“Observe the colors.”

Nodding, you kept your eyes on the wine, feeling almost hypnotized by the movement.

“Now, miss Y/N, you’re going to smell the aroma. I want you to close your eyes, and think of nothing else.”

Your eyes closed, but you gasped, jolting at his touch. 

“Close your eyes. Think of nothing else.”

It was impossible. His fingers had grazed your skin, until they twisted into the hair at the nape of your neck. 

He wasn’t holding tight, but he had you. He had complete control of you. 

It was terrifying.

And yet you fought not to moan at the slightest movement, breath heavy as he tilted your head gently.

“Slow down, little rabbit,” he purred, voice so close. “Now smell the fragrance of the wine, and tell me what you feel.”

The scent felt overpowering, washing over you, sending chills over your skin.

“I think I smell… plums?”

Mihawk’s fingers untangled from your hair, only to rub along your neck and shoulders, gently kneading.

“Good, Y/N. Now keep your eyes closed. You’re going to take a sip, enough to cover that tongue of yours. But don’t swallow until you let the wine fill your mouth, touching every part. Can you do that for me?”

“Mmhm,” you nodded, overwhelmed as his fingers stroked your hair, moving strands out of your face.

He brought the glass to your lips, touching your jaw as you tilted back. 

You kept the wine in your mouth, feeling the tannins working around your tongue. 

“Feel it, Y/N. Then tell me what you taste.”

You couldn’t remember feeling this overpowered by food or drink before. The sensations were so intense, the mix of flavors almost arousing as it burned through you. 

Clearing your throat, you tried to express what you were feeling.

“Plums. And it’s thick, it almost feels chewy. It tastes amazing.”

A moment of silence had your heart rate spiking again.

His warm fingers touched your cheek, turning your face toward him.

“Open your eyes.”

Again, the pressure of command in his voice was heavy. You obeyed instantly, meeting his amber gaze as the swordsman inspected you, squeezing your cheeks just a little.

“Looks like there’s hope for you yet. I was afraid that the clown might have spoiled you, robbed you of any sense of refinement.”

Crocodile’s booming laughter shook the couch beside you.

“He does seem to ruin everything he touches. Don’t you, clown?”

Crocodile called toward the corner of the room where Buggy’s form still slumped against the wall. 

He didn’t look as hurt as he had yesterday, but he looked hardly there, as if he was trying not to exist.

Guilt trickled through you again as your body still reeled from Mihawk's attention. Every new sip of wine you took felt like velvet, like his hands roaming your skin.

Fuck.

He kept his hand on your neck now, gently massaging as he and Crocodile resumed their conversation. 

Frustrated tears almost fell, but you managed to blink them back.

“Numbers girl,” Crocodile breathed over you, bringing you back to the moment. 

“Yes?”

“You’ll get your transponder snail tomorrow. You are only to use it with one of us present. And you must give details of who and why you are calling. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl. I’d hate to have to show you what happens when people disobey me,” he rasped, setting his huge palm over your thigh. “Let’s get some sleep.”

Mihawk’s arms carried you through the hall. So much of your exposed thigh was touching his bare chest and abs, the feeling of skin on skin making you want to pull your hair out with how much it dominated your senses.

How much he dominated your senses.

You hoped that he hadn’t noticed the stain of need he’d caused, slick coating the inside of your thighs as you pressed them together.

Mihawk set you down on the edge of your bed, leaning over to tease his hot breath against your ear.

“Stay quiet tonight, little rabbit.”

Your eyes were wide as he pulled away, an evil little smirk on those lips that never smile. He touched your chin, before walking away. Closing the door, he trapped you alone with the heat burning in your core, and the shame dripping with sweat down your spine.

You whimpered quietly as you ached, and you wondered how long it would take for you to stop caring about who they are and what they’ve done. 

This is only the second day they've been here, and I already want to beg them to touch me. What the fuck is wrong with me?

Your sister’s voice filled your mind, asking you the same thing when you left with Buggy.

Maybe there is something wrong with me? Maybe I crave dangerous men?

Your fingers trailed under your skirt. They slipped along the mess of your desire that had soaked past your panties. Mihawk had toyed with you, and your body ached for him, dripping with need. You brought your hand up to look at the thick strings of slick as you moved your fingers.

I’m sick. I hope this shit doesn’t get me killed.

Notes:

If there is something wrong with reader, then I may have the same issue 😅

Chapter 4: I Wonder If I Can Do Both?

Summary:

You can't get the thought of these frightening men out of your mind, day or night. They remind you of the dangers of slighting them, and the rewards for serving them, and they decide they want to get to know you better.

Notes:

Reader tries speaking up just a little bit today, let's see how that goes 🤷🏼

“Does that feel good, baby? Does my flashy girl like getting my cock all messy?”

“Fuck, yes,” you stuttered, meeting his gaze from across the room. 

Buggy sat forward on his chair, his hungry eyes fixed on your movements. He loved to watch you use him like a toy, use his cock for your pleasure while he relaxed and enjoyed the show. 

“Buggy,” you moaned, eyes fluttering closed as your head fell back against the pillows. 

“What did we say about staying away from that clown?”

A choked gasp left you, and you felt the heat and weight shift on the bed, opening your eyes to find Mihawk and Crocodile laying beside you, trapping you between them again. 

You couldn’t answer Crocodile’s question, fear taking your breath before Mihawk’s hand wrapped around your throat.

“Isn’t this better, sweetheart,” Crocodile teased, massive fingers shoving into you, laughing as you arched your back. 

“Please…”

They looked down at you with such condescending smiles, their hands moving over you with more force until you cried out with pleasure.

This isn’t…

Fear shot through you, your mind remembering the real world. 

Jolting up in bed, you were sticky with sweat. Stumbling to the bathroom, you raced through a shower, not knowing how much time you had before they called for you.

Washing away the evidence of the dream, you let out a frustrated groan, hoping the rush of water would drown it out. 

It wasn’t enough that Mihawk’s teasing last night had left you face down, rutting into your hand as you chewed on your blankets, desperate to keep him from hearing your shame. 

Now they were in your fucking dreams. You scrubbed almost viciously, hating how much you wanted your fucking captors.

You got pretty for them. You found a red dress that you’d normally pair with wild corsets, tights, and straps, but on its own it might do. 

Crocodile’s gruff voice came with the heavy beat of his metal hook against the door. 

With the creak of wood, you were under his glare. Staring up at him, your skin flushed as your dream hit your mind again. Your eyes caught on his fingers, and you chewed the inside of your lip.

“Come on then,” he huffed after looking you over, motioning for you to jump into his arms. 

“Sir, I may have more appropriate shoes in Buggy’s room. We didn’t fi–”

“Come here.”

Trying to calm your shaky hands, you let yourself be carried. The heat of his body warmed your skin through his silk vest. 

He didn’t stop at the usual room. The office? The lounge? The stupid couch room where they torture you slowly? You weren’t sure what to call it, but he walked past it, instead bringing you out on the balcony. 

Mihawk was there, espresso in hand, a little round table and three chairs set up in view of the pirates at work below.

“Did you sleep well, little rabbit?” 

Mihawk's words were like a blade, hitting you in exactly the right spot. You choked on your coffee, sputtering as you reached for a napkin to catch the hot liquid as it spilled down your chin. 

“Don’t go ruining the only semi decent clothes you’ve got,” Crocodile said, glaring over the newspaper at you. 

“Speaking of that,”  he tossed the newspaper down, motioning to one of the servants. 

You watched them hurry to his side, and were hit with whiplash over how different everything was in just three days. The way subordinates had behaved around Buggy was nothing like how they reacted to Crocodile and Mihawk. 

You knew there were a mix of people now, not just the Buggy pirates or the people he’d recruited in Impel Down. 

You recognized many of them here still, but with their backs a little straighter, their voices a little lower. 

And the stench of alcohol was almost gone from the air. Now you only smelled it when you sipped that velvety wine on the velvety couch. 

“What are your measurements?”

Jerking your head up, you realized you had been zoning out. 

“My…” you started softly, shrinking under Crocodile’s steady gaze.

“You would like to continue wearing clothes, right? It would save us some money–”

“Yes, sir. Sorry!”

His lip twitched in a mocking smile as he gestured to the servant with a notepad in hand. 

You were grateful now for all those costumes Buggy had made for you, your measurements coming to mind easily. You made sure not to forget the shoes. 

“Here’s what we’re looking for.” 

Crocodile pulled a folded paper from his vest, but Mihawk intercepted it.

“Let me take a look,” he drawled, unfolding the note. His brow creased as he took the servant's pen, adding a few scrawled lines, before sending the man off with that mystery paper.

“What was that?”

You felt both sets of sharp eyes on you, fear rushing in at the thought of questioning them.

I don’t want to be a scared little rabbit.

“I looked over your report from yesterday. I believe we can allocate some funds to take care of our little numbers girl, and her dainty toes,” Crocodile smirked, scraping the last bite off his plate before continuing. 

“Make sure you prove me right today.”

“Yes, sir,” you nodded at his threat, but the force of your dangerous determination pushed you further.

“But why all of this? Why are you treating me this way?”

“Whatever do you mean,” Mihawk asked, his head cocked. He wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that he was fucking with you.

Crocodile lit his cigar, giving it a few puffs before giving you his full attention. 

“There are plenty of new people working for you. I work for you now. So why the…” 

You lost steam, the pressure of their gaze almost squeezing the air from your lungs. 

You clenched your fists in your lap, and kept going.

“Why are you carrying me, buying me clothes, making me stay with you? I’ll work for you, you don’t nee–”

“Didn’t I tell you already, sweetheart? When I find something of value, I protect it.”

Your mouth parted at Crocodile’s words, thrown out as if it were common sense. 

“It’s true. You have a part to play,” Mihawk agreed, his golden eyes pulling you in. “Yet I don't quite trust you yet, little rabbit. I believe you’re smart enough not to try anything to help our figurehead escape. But I could be wrong.”

“No, you wouldn’t do that, miss Y/N,” Crocodile cut in. “I know you’d rather have us take care of you than to treat you like an enemy, right?”

“Yes,” you nodded, voice barely audible. 

“Good,” he leaned toward you, a few strands escaping his slick backed hair. 

“Now just keep being valuable.”

His low voice and veiled threat froze you. Your fear only spiked when he reached out to hold your chin, his large fingers heating your chilled skin. 

“Let’s go. You’re making those calls today, and I expect to see results.”

~

Mihawk carried you back to the lounge, setting you up at your desk. The glide of his fingers on your skin made you hold your breath. You could tell he was doing this on purpose. He knew how much he was affecting you, and it was humiliating. 

Yet you didn’t want him to stop. 

Crocodile too, when he’d smooth your hair out of your face, or rest his huge hand on your back, your body felt electric. All for this man that had threatened to kill you until he found out you were useful. His touch made you dizzy.

But Mihawk was fucking torturing you. It was getting to the point where just catching his eyes on you made your breath hitch.  

Work. I can work. Just focus on this.

They actually left you alone for a bit, taking up spots at their desks on either side of the room. 

Until it was time to start making calls. 

Crocodile brought his transponder snail, and dragged a chair up to your desk. He sat facing you, head resting on his fist. 

Mihawk came to perch on your desk, leaning over you as you reached out to make your first call. He grabbed your wrist, and started tracing his fingers along your hand, the gentle touches giving you chills as you tried not to let your eyes roll back.

“Be a good girl, miss Y/N,” he purred, his deep voice wrapping around you. “I know you’re not foolish enough to try to call for help, or to leak information.”

He used his thumbs to massage the meat of your palm. His skilled fingers giving you all that attention, even just on your hand, had your thighs clenching under the desk. 

Even with his stare, even with the danger he promised, you could feel wet need dripping between your thighs.

A frustrated tear burned in your eye, and you couldn’t keep it from falling.

Crocodile leaned forward, wiping it away before laughing gruffly toward the swordsman.

“I thought you said not to scare our little rabbit, huh? Don’t we need her at her best?”

“Just needed to make that clear. Besides, there’s no need to be scared,” he promised, voice sinful as he dipped his head to catch your eyes again. “You know we’ll take care of you. Just be a good little rabbit for us.”

He brought your fingers to his lips, the pressure sending heat right to your core. 

Crocodile leaned back, spreading his legs wide as he gave a low chuckle. 

“He’s right, numbers girl. We’re gonna take real good care of ya. Now get to work, sweetheart.”

~

There would be plenty more work to do tomorrow, and the day after that, and probably for however long they decided to keep you alive.

But for today, you’d done well. You even secured more funding from an old contact. Who knew your old boring life would be so helpful in your current chaos?

Who knew you’d be so good at convincing rich people to side with the pirates that want to off famous marines?

I shouldn’t be surprised. Rich people were always fucked up. They could just afford to hide it. 

Crocodile carried you to the balcony for dinner, but he kept you in his arms as he looked out over the dock.

“Uh, sir?”

“Your food is getting cold,” Mihawk drawled from the table, already started on his wine. 

Crocodile sat you down close to his chair, and ran his hand up and down your back a few times. The evening air wasn’t too cold, but after being in the large man’s arms, you felt your body start to shiver.

He took his fur coat off, holding it up with his hand and his hook before lowering it over your shoulders. The weight of it was almost uncomfortable, but it was incredibly warm. 

“Th-Thank you…”

He just nodded, picking up conversation with Mihawk about how high they should set the bounties for different Navy officer’s lives.

As plates were being taken away, their attention turned to you again. 

“What do you like, miss Y/N?”

“I’m sorry,” you choked, eyes wide as you looked back at Crocodile.

“Things you enjoy. Things you want. It can’t just be numbers and clowns.”

“I…”

“I believe we have a budding wine connoisseur. Or maybe I was wrong, Y/N? It seemed like you rather enjoyed last night's wine tasting.”

“Swordsman, I’m trying to get the girl to talk,” Crocodile grumbled. “Give her a rest for five minutes.”

Your fingernails dug into your thighs at the sound of Mihawk’s satisfied laughter, and you tried not to to feel the press of his gaze as he conceded.

“As you like.”

“So? What do you like that isn’t pathetic pirate clowns or expensive wine?”

Your mouth was dry, and you made the mistake of reaching for that wine. That wine that made chills run over your skin. 

Fucking get it together. 

They were both staring at you. 

Wine under the moonlight. A lovely dinner. A warm coat around your shoulders. Heat pooling in your core. 

And now they were asking you what your interests were. 

We’re not on a fucking date. They just threatened to kill me earlier today. 

Your struggle to fix how your body felt about this moment didn’t stop the fact that they were waiting. 

It had been awhile since you’d gone on dates, since you’d had to come up with answers to these sorts of questions. Everyone in your dating pool had seemed… boring. Until Buggy.

That thought soured you enough to shake yourself, and just rattle off the first things you could think of.

“I like fantasy novels. Cats. Dancing, but I’m not good at it. Umm… Cookies. Spicy food. Traveling. Uh…”

You trailed off, the weight of their stairs sitting on you. Your next words came out high and strained. 

“I didn’t do a lot at home. I just worked. I was pretty… boring.”

“Says the girl drinking wine with the Cross Guild,” Crocodile laughed, puffing on his cigar.

Mihawk watched you, one of his fingers playing lightly along the stem of his wine glass. 

“What do you want now, little rabbit?”

“To survive.”

You shocked yourself, your words steady as you held his gaze.

The corners of his lips curved up, just the slightest bit, and he raised his glass to you. 

Crocodile joined you, and the three of you tapped glasses again. 

Last time it was to never be bored. 

This time it was to make it out alive. 

I wonder if I can do both?

Notes:

I am having way too much fun with this. I need to be stopped

Chapter 5: Would You Rather

Summary:

You're feeling overwhelmed. So overwhelmed. Mihawk and Crocodile make you an offer you can't refuse.

Notes:

I am unwell

“Let’s take this inside,” Mihawk commanded, setting his empty glass on the little round table. 

He stood, pressing close enough beside you to make you dizzy with his heady cologne. He held out those long fingers, and you managed to take them without getting frozen under his gaze. 

He lifted you easily, even wrapped up in Crocodile’s fur coat, like some heavy, decadent blanket. 

Thankfully the coat covered your thighs, keeping you from rubbing skin against warm skin as he carried you with his chest bared. 

He followed Crocodile through the hallway, the steady beat of their steps blending nicely with the sway you felt in the swordsman’s arms. 

“Hmm, are you feeling tired, pet? Are we working you too hard?”

Jerking in his arms, you cringed as you realized what you’d done. 

You had let your head fall gently as he carried you, resting in the crook of his neck. 

His satisfied laughter vibrated around you, clawing into you.

You’d done everything you could to maintain what tiny bit of distance they allowed you. 

But you were so warm. And he smelled so good. 

He leaned over you as you neared the door, stopping as he breathed down against your temple.

“Maybe you should stop keeping yourself up so late.”

His evil whisper sent blood rushing to your face, and pulsing down to your core, and you couldn’t keep your body from clenching in his arms.

Why is he doing this to me?

“Give her here.”

“We’re almost inside.”

“I don’t care.”

You had your eyes closed as Mihawk sighed, handing you over to Crocodile before heading into the lounge.

At least that’s what you’d decided to call that stupid room.

The scarred man held you, waiting outside the door until you finally opened your eyes and looked up at him. 

You couldn’t imagine him ever looking anything but frightening. His features were so harsh. His temper was hard for you to understand. He hadn’t seemed to care at all when he was threatening your life.

But you didn’t want to find out what would happen if you angered him. 

He smells good too.

You clamped your eyes shut again in frustration, until his rough voice wrapped around you.

“Miss Y/N, are you feeling alright?”

You choked, gaping up at him. 

“I–I…”

“Come, Crocodile. Let’s get our pet another glass of wine, and let her see the surprise.”

Crocodile let out a sigh, his warm breath on the top of your head as you kept yourself rigid. 

I don’t want to be weak.

The thought itself felt pathetic, but you were too overwhelmed to deal with it right now. You kept your eyes closed, deciding to judge yourself later.

He sat you down, and you could feel your golden eyed torturer beside you. 

Crocodile let you keep the coat underneath you, but ran his large hand over your calves and the tops of your feet as he set you down. 

Mihawk hummed, somehow making that tiny sound seem judgemental. 

“Take it.”

You opened your eyes just enough to see your lap, and Mihawk’s nimble fingers offering you a glass of wine. 

You took it, letting out a heavy breath as you took a sip, deciding you wanted to keep your eyes closed forever. 

Crocodile settled on your other side, stretching his arm across the back of the couch. 

His arm around your shoulder made you sit straight up, your eyes finally opening, and you jolted. 

“Bu–”

You cut yourself off this time, swallowing his name. But you had fallen forward in your seat, the wine sloshing in your glass. 

Mihawk grabbed it instantly, as if spilling a single drop would be a crime. 

Crocodile’s hand touched your shoulder gently, but firmly, pushing you back into the couch. 

Buggy.

He was right there. Sitting in an actual chair instead of slumped against the wall. 

The chair matched the couch, and he was close enough to prop his feet on the coffee table. 

He was so close. 

His crystal blue eyes searched yours, his face still covered in various shades of bruising, and faded paint. 

But he was up. He wasn’t covered in blood. He even gave you a small, albeit strained smile. 

“Our figurehead has earned the privilege of walking around and pretending to be important again,” Mihawk drawled, swirling your wine as he still held your glass.

“For now,” Crocodile huffed, his thumb rubbing along the back of your neck. 

Buggy’s eyes flicked down to that large hand on your body, before shaking himself and putting on a smile. 

“Come on, Crocodile! I work for you now, remember? Whatever you need, baby!”

Mihawk handed you the glass again, fingers grazing against yours too long, while Crocodile squeezed your shoulder gently.

Buggy seemed to look everywhere but you now. 

“You’re gonna stay in line,” Crocodile growled, leaning forward, gesturing at Buggy with his hook.

“And you’re not gonna try to leave or call for help, or pull any more of your bullshit.”

Crocodile’s voice only got darker, rage in his words that made you hold your breath. 

“Of c-course! Whatever you say, boss!”

Mihawk scoffed, then you felt his gaze shift to you. You met those amber eyes, and he touched your chin.

He spoke to Buggy, but kept his eyes, and his fingers, on you.

“Miss Y/N is one of our most valuable assets. We are allowing her to use her talents instead of wasting them as you did.”

You didn’t dare take your eyes off of Mihawk to look at Buggy. 

Those fingers pressed into your jaw, just a bit, before he continued.

“Since she is so valuable, we are making it a priority to protect her. This means that no one may touch her without our permission.”

Crocodile ran his thumb over your neck again before cutting in. 

“We live in a dangerous world, numbers girl. Stick with us, and we’ll keep you safe, alright?”

“Alright,” you choked out, agreeing to their threat. 

“Good girl,” Mihawk purred, finally releasing you to turn your head. To look at Buggy. 

He kept a pained smile on his face, and it made you ache.

So many mistakes led us here.

“You do understand our meaning, don’t you,” Mihawk drawled.

“M-Meaning,” he stuttered, shifting wide eyes to the swordsman. 

Crocodile’s hook slammed on the coffee table, Mihawk sighing as he saved your glass of wine again.

“It means you don’t fucking touch her, clown.”

You couldn’t help the stinging tears now, but you wiped them away as fast as you could, your fingers shaking. 

“Please…” your voice was small, and you hadn’t meant to speak. 

“Don’t beg for him, sweetheart,” Crocodile’s voice came out almost soothing, as if there were any way you could feel comforted right now. 

“He got you into this mess. But I promise you,” he said softly, touching your cheek with the back of his cold hook to turn you toward him. “Just keep being good for us, and you’ll have it all, sweetheart.”

He smiled. He smiled at you. 

They’re crazy. I’m crazy.

The weight on the couch shifted behind you, until you felt Mihawk’s breath along the back of your neck. He traced his fingers along your arm as he left deep, raspy taunts in your ear. 

“Isn’t this what you wanted, little rabbit? You wanted freedom from a boring life? Adventure? But you keep fighting it, don’t you? I wonder–”

“Give it a rest. You’re the one that keeps spooking her.”

You shivered between them, still wrapped up in their voices, under their light touches. 

Mihawk sat back, a low chuckle aimed at Crocodile this time. 

“Can’t you smell her? Our little rabbit is a little vixen, aren’t you?”

Smell me?

“You know, I thought the world’s greatest swordsman was supposed to be cool headed, intelligent. If I’d known you only think with your dick, I would have–”

Your breath hitched, eyes wide as you tried to stop existing. 

“You act as if you haven’t been taking liberties yourself, Sand Man. You know Miss Y/N has been aching for us to take her since we made her ours. Isn’t that right, pet?”

Mihawk pulled you gently so you were facing forward again. 

Facing Buggy. 

“You’ve been such a good girl for us,” he purred, stroking your hair out of your face. “I think you deserve to get what you’ve been craving.”

He shifted to look at Crocodile, tapping his fingers impatiently on your knee. 

“You did promise that we’d take care of our pet, hm?”

Crocodile shifted, letting out a deep breath before responding. 

“I did promise that.” 

His voice came out deep as he squeezed your shoulder again. 

“You say the word when you’re ready, sweet girl. We’ll make you feel so good.”

Your body was humming, their gentle fingers and dangerous promises making you soak through your panties. You’d probably made a mess on Crocodile’s coat.

Your eyes were fluttering as you tried to control yourself.

And there was Buggy. 

He was so close. He was watching their hands on you. He was watching you react like this, almost moaning, skin flushed as you felt dizzy from your need to say ‘yes.’

“Mm, there’s the trouble,” Mihawk mused, taking a sip of wine before taking and massaging your hand. 

“Our little rabbit is too sweet. Or too guilty. You don’t want to hurt this pathetic clown.”

You let out a tiny whimper, closing your eyes. 

“Is that it, sweetheart,” Crocodile asked, his voice smooth, drawing you in. “You know he treated you like crap. Almost got you killed because he’s a fucking idiot. You don’t owe him a thing.”

“Don’t let him,” Mihawk purred in your ear, like a devil on your shoulder. “Don’t let him hold you back from what you want. Don’t let him hold you back from pleasure.”

You were rocking slightly, focusing on your breathing. 

Focusing on not opening your legs, and begging them to fuck you. 

“It’s alright, sweet girl,” Crocodile comforted again. “You know we’ll–”

“If he wasn’t in the room would you say yes? Do you feel bad for him?”

You met Buggy’s gaze, saw the sweat dripping down his face, his fists clenched on his knees. 

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. You felt electric, body on fire with need. 

I would. I would say yes. Fuck.

“Let’s fix that,” Mihawk cleared his throat, lazily gesturing with his hand as his elbow rested on the armrest. 

“Clown. You know that Miss Y/N is ours now. You know that she wants to be ours. If not tonight, then someday soon, she will let herself have what she craves. Do you know this?”

Buggy stopped looking at you, and you saw his lip twitch in a snarl. But he answered.

“Yes.”

Your stomach clenched, guilt rising again. Crocodile gave a low chuckle. 

“So, when that happens, because it will happen,” Mihawk promised. And you couldn’t argue. You couldn’t take anymore of this. You’d go insane.

“When that happens, would you rather shove your fingers in your ears as her screams echo through the halls?”

You held in a whimper, Mihawk’s voice making your head spin.

“Or would you rather sit and watch while we fuck her into oblivion?”

Finally crying out, your head fell back for a moment, the desperate ache in your core almost painful now.

Buggy closed his eyes, the silence lasting too long for the men on the couch. 

“Decide,” Crocodile growled, “or we’ll decide for you.”

Buggy’s voice came out low, too quiet to hear. 

“Speak up, clown,” Crocodile threatened again.

Buggy met your eyes, his mouth hanging open with his ragged breaths. 

“I’d rather watch.”

Notes:

The brainrot is real. Send help

Chapter 6: Some Kind of Death Wish

Summary:

You are tempted by Crocodile and Mihawk's offer. What would your sister say about you now?

Notes:

I feel like my brain has been scraped out and replaced with this fucking fic, lol. I hope you enjoy the ride 🖤

“You heard him,” Mihawk tutted, gesturing lazily. “The clown wants to watch us take care of you. No reason to feel guilty then.”

It felt like every part of your body was clenched together, shaking with more intense need than you ever thought possible. You were a raw fucking nerve.

“Let her be, Mihawk,” Crocodile sighed, but his large hand still burned your shoulder. “Just tell us when you’re ready.”

Buggy’s eyes had fallen away from you, staring at the coffee table. 

Your mouth opened and closed again, nothing but air coming out. 

“Of course, Crocodile. All we’re here to do is take care of our little treasure. I’d never want to start before she’s ready,” Mihawk drawled, leaning away from you as he sipped his wine, humming to himself before continuing.

“But I believe you are ready, aren’t you, little rabbit? I believe the only reason you’re not begging right now is because your body is aching so badly you can’t speak.”

Your lip quivered, the smallest whimper you’d ever heard pushed from your throat.

“Is that true, darlin,” Crocodile soothed, his low voice vibrating through you. “Do you want us to help you out?”

You didn’t know why you were stuck. Every part of you was screaming, ‘yes.’ But you’d piled so much guilt onto yourself over the past few days. And there was Buggy.

When Buggy had looked you in the eyes, and said he wanted to watch, your stomach twisted with something that wasn't guilt.

You managed to move, bringing your shaky hands up to cover your face.

“Alright, Miss Y/N,” Crocodile said, patting your back before removing the warmth of his hand. “Let’s call it a night.”

“Give her a few minutes. She’s almost there.” 

Mihawk sounded almost bored again. Detached. He’d stopped touching you, and his voice had lost its teasing tone. 

You could leave. You could go to bed. 

You wondered what your sister would say about you now.

That there’s something wrong with me. That I got myself into this fucked up situation. That I’ve got some kind of death wish.

Your hands dropped down to your lap, shaky breaths bringing you back.

Back to your body that was vibrating with near painful need.

There probably is something wrong with me.

You dug your nails into your thighs, shivering from the sensation.

But I might as well enjoy it. 

“Please.”

The word was barely audible, so you cleared your throat.

“Whatd'ya need, sweet girl,” Crocodile asked, his voice making your eyes flutter.

You looked up, Buggy’s eyes almost wild as he watched you. Your breath caught, losing momentum under his gaze. 

But he nodded. The corner of his mouth pulled into a smile, not of sadness, or joy, or anger. But of acceptance. 

A weight lifted. Parts of your brain tried to hold it there, to keep you feeling guilty. 

“What would you like, Miss Y/N?”

Mihawk’s voice made you sigh, even without its devious pressure.

You leaned back against the couch, the scent of these two men like some heady bait, luring you toward the hook.

Maybe you wanted to be caught.

“I want you to take care of me.”

It felt like you were a puppet, and all of your strings had been tied together, leaving your body trapped, frozen. 

Speaking those words cut your strings, and your body came loose, almost limp now as you felt free from your own bindings. 

Free to follow their strings now, and beg to be caught on their hook.

Crocodile shifted in his seat, turning toward you. His fingers trailed through your hair, coming to rest on your neck again.

He leaned down over you, kissing your temple.

“You’re our girl now, Y/N. I’ll make sure you get everything your pretty little heart wants.”

Mihawk startled you as he took your hand, laying a soft kiss on your knuckles.

“He’s right. You’re ours.”

His gaze was heavy, almost frightening again. Until this man who never smiles gave you a wicked smirk.

“Although, it’s not your heart that’s doing the wanting right now, is it? What does my little vixen crave?”

Once again, all he’d done was touch your hand, look at you, say a few words. But your head fell back onto Crocodile’s hand, and your mouth parted as you fought to keep your eyes on his.

He stared at your mouth, eyes focusing as you pressed your tongue out slightly to wet your lips. 

He squeezed your hand, tilting his head. Reminding you that he’d asked you a question.

“Please, sir. I want you to touch me.”

Oh, the thrill you felt at the way Hawkeye fucking Mihawk reacted to your words. He sucked in a breath, eye’s fluttering as he looked up slightly. 

It all looked muted, as if he had caught himself.

“Crocodile, I’m going to take care of our girl. Do you accept, or are we going to have a battle every night?”

Every night?

“I’ll watch the show, for now.”

He squeezed your neck, his gaze heavy on your skin. 

“Perfect. There is something I’ve been curious about,” Mihawk mused, bringing a hand to your jaw to tilt you toward him. 

You stopped breathing as he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, his mustache and goatee lightly tickling your skin. 

It was almost chaste, until his tongue found its way into your mouth, dancing with yours. There was a rhythm to his kiss, and you could feel it slowly build. Like an ember into a wildfire, the heat grew until you were reaching for him, soft whines in your throat.

Then you moaned into his mouth, your eyes flying open to see his squinting slightly, almost mischievous. 

His fingers were under your dress, sliding easily between your thighs, the evidence of your need leaving you drenched.

You ate the satisfied hum from his mouth before he pulled away from the kiss. 

“Magnificent,” he purred, withdrawing his fingers from your thighs to hold them in front of your face.

Your skin flushed, and you pressed your knees together, embarrassment pulling at you.

“Our little pet may have ruined your coat,” Mihawk chuckled, spreading his fingers to show the other man the thick strings of slick, dripping down his hand onto your lap. 

The scarred man gave you a crooked smile, touching his hook to your chin. 

“Our sweet girl can get the money back for us, huh, sugar,” he teased, the potential threat only speeding your pulse. “Besides, we weren’t taking care of you. You should have told us how needy you were.”

He kissed the top of your head again as Mihawk reached down for more, letting his wet fingers shine in the light. 

“Did she ever get this wet for you, clown?”

You tensed, meeting Buggy’s eyes over that dripping hand.

He stared at it, jaw clenched. And said nothing. 

“You chose to stay and watch, Buggy,” Mihawk sighed. “If you’re going to sulk, then you can go back to your room like a child.”

“N-No,” Buggy answered softly.

“No, what,” Mihawk prodded.

Crocodile, started rubbing your neck with that large hand, soothing the tension that had built again. 

“No, she never got that wet with me.”

He could have left. He could have left.

You tried not to carry guilt for his humiliation. Not when he chose this one. 

And then he was ignored again, all attention back onto you. 

“Come here, darling,” Mihawk said, offering his hand. Crocodile lit his cigar, giving big puffs as he watched you stand. 

“This is a lost cause anyway,” the swordsman declared, pulling the larger man's jacket off the couch, and spreading it across the coffee table. 

Your knees were shaking, and you didn’t know what to do with your hands as you stood on the plush carpet, and waited. 

Mihawk sat back down, motioning for you. He grabbed your hips to stop you from passing him to your seat on the couch. 

“What…”

“In a few minutes, I’m going to lay you on that table, and give you that release you’ve been fighting for these last few nights.”

Your hands clenched in embarrassment again, but he soothed the words with gentle strokes of his hands along your hips and waist. 

He tugged at the bottom of your dress.

“Let me get it,” Crocodile demanded, leaning forward. Mihawk didn’t stop you from taking the few steps away. 

Crocodile pulled you gently, and you found yourself kissing another ex warlord of the sea. You stood between his thighs, tasting the rich flavors and smoke of his cigar. 

His fingers dug into your lower back, as if he was keeping you from running away.

You didn’t run.

That frightening face. 

It had smiled at you. It was kissing you. 

You traced your fingers on the sides of that face before wrapping your arms around his neck. 

His low growl pulsed through you, and his grip got even harder, the kiss deep and intense.

“Mm, I knew you were a sweet girl,” he praised, gently pushing you back a step.

“You won’t be needing these cheap rags anymore.”

You didn’t understand his smile. Until he pulled your dress forward with his hand, then pierced into it his hook, tearing the red fabric from your skin.

Gasping, you’d gripped onto his arm for support. 

“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart,” he breathed, pulling you close again as his hand roamed over your lingerie and bare skin. 

Mihawk cleared his throat. 

“Yeah, yeah, swordsman. I just wanna check one more thing.”

He kept intense eye contact with you as his hand started at your knee, then slowly traveled up to find all that proof of how they affect you. 

He teased his fingers through the slick, sliding between your sticky thighs, until he reached your core. 

His hands were bigger than anyone's you’d even met. You didn't think any human could be as tall as him. 

Just one of those big fingers teased along your panties. 

Just the barest touch over your clothed clit sent you moaning, knees loosening. 

He’d used his one hand to tease you. When you stumbled, he caught your weight in that hand, cupping your needy pussy. You grinded yourself against his palm, digging your nails into his expensive shirt.

His laughs sounded more pleased than teasing, and he gave you a peck on the cheek as he helped you over to Mihawk, who seemed to be losing his patience. 

“Hold on,” Crocodile called after picking up his cigar again.

“If I knew it would be such a nuisance to shar–”

“Sweetheart,” Crocodile cut the swordsman off. “Are you on birth control?”

“Oh! Um, yes,” you blinked at him.

“Good. There’s more coming with your clothes and things for when your stock runs out.”

“Uh… Thank you,” you choked out, not sure how to feel about him buying you birth control before you’d had sex. But you were grateful that he had. 

“I told you, we’ll take car–”

“You’ve gone and distracted our pet now,” Mihawk pouted, finding his comfort wine again. You caught Buggy staring at you, and tried not to look his way again. 

“All that work I did to drive you mad,” the golden eyed man almost whined, “and now I won’t get to watch you break on my cock.”

Your eyes rolled back, and you stumbled again in front of him.

Chuckling, he tugged you down onto his lap. He pressed your back against his chest, all that bare skin sending heat right through you. You whimpered at the hard press of him against your ass, that tightness in your core begging you for release.

“Maybe it’s not all lost after all,” he purred in your ear, the tickle on your neck making your shoulders tense up. 

“Maybe my little rabbit doesn’t need much to make her desperate.”

One hand splayed across your stomach began trailing up to your chest. The other hand on your thigh teased closer, starting to slide in all that wetness. 

You didn’t mean to. But your hips dug in, grinding down to feel more of that hard length beneath you. 

He bit your shoulder, making you cry out, arching your back.

“Mm, you even like a little pain, do you? You are such a good girl for us.”

His praise felt incredible, almost like he was touching you, pleasing you. Your head fell back against his shoulder. You’d been ashamed when you let it happen earlier. 

But now you writhed in his lap, whimpering as he teased your neck with kisses and bites, the tickle of his facial hair adding to it all.

He hummed against you as one of his hands reached into your bra, massaging your breast, making you gasp with light pinches on your already hardened nipple. 

Finally, finally, his fingers reached your core, and you twitched at his playful touches. He spread your legs with his knees, then tapped his fingers up and down over your panties.

“I’ve never seen someone this wet before. You must have wanted us to take you so badly.”

His taunts weren’t questions, so you just kept whimpering, trying to press against those fingers to get some relief. 

“Is that what you’ve been picturing while this poor little pussy soaks your fingers each night?”

“Please,” you almost sobbed.

“No,” he chided, robbing you of even those torturing little touches, his hand rubbing over your thigh instead.

“Fuck, please…”

“I promise, little rabbit,” Mihawk rasped in your ear, his touch, his voice taking over your entire existence. “I will make you come so many times that you’ll beg me to stop. But first, you need to do what you’re told.”

“Y-Yes, sir.”

His heavy breath, the hint of a moan sent your eyes rolling back, arching your back against him even more. 

“Tell me, what did you think about while you touched yourself these last two nights?”

Your head fell to the side, and you saw Crocodile watching your every movement, smoke curling in the air above him. His legs were spread wide again and…

Fu ck.

Mihawk bit your neck, your body jerking at the sudden sharp pain.

“You won’t like what happens if I need to ask again, pet.”

“It was… I was thinking about — Fuck… I was thinking about both of you fucking me at the same time.”

You cried out with pleasure as Mihawk’s long fingers dipped into your panties. He played along your folds, then his masterful touch over your clit had you so close already, so fucking desperate. 

“Does my pretty pet want to come?”

“Yes, sir. Fuck, please.”

Two fingers slid into you, all your wetness readying you for him. 

His fingers curled, and he preyed on that perfect spot within you as his palm rubbed over and over on your clit.

You had never come that hard before. Your vision went blank, and you dug your nails into that velvet couch while you twitched and screamed. 

“You had better scream my name, rabbit,” he growled in your ear, biting your neck again.

You obeyed. You screamed it so many times, until your body was limp.

He hugged you against him, tracing fingers over your skin as he kissed your neck softly.

“Astounding. What a little treasure you are, hm? You did so well for me.”

You whined in his arms, eyes watering as your breath started to slow. 

“My turn.”

Crocodile’s gruff voice poured through you, making you twitch again. 

“I’m not done.”

“What else do you have planned, swordsman? Because I’d like a taste before you knock her out.”

You giggled, sitting forward. Mihawk grabbed your shoulders as you swayed in his lap. 

He sighed. 

“I suppose you’re right. I was going to make her come on my tongue next before testing how well our little darling can take cock.”

He hummed again, pressing kisses to your shoulder after you’d moaned at his words.

“Give her here,” Crocodile commanded, reaching out his arm. “I could use somethin' sweet to eat.”

Mihawk sighed, but helped you move, scooting you down the couch toward the larger man. 

Crocodile pulled you against his side in a hug, kissing the top of your head. You couldn’t help the contented sigh that left you. 

“Find somewhere else to sit, clown.”

You sat up, seeing Buggy’s red face, the faded greasepaint shining under beads of sweat. He stared at Crocodile with wide eyes, not meeting your gaze. 

“I said move. I’m gonna make Miss Y/N come in my mouth on that chair. Don’t make me–”

Buggy jumped up, twisting his body around to face the other direction. But he wasn’t fast enough to hide the press of his hard cock jutting from his lap, that stretchy fabric doing nothing to hold him in place. 

“Looks like the showman is enjoying the show,” Mihawk drawled, pouring yet another glass of wine. 

Buggy hopped around behind the couch. He leaned on his elbows over the back of it as Crocodile shook his head, helping you stand.

“Do you think the fool is capable of learning,” Mihawk wondered aloud. “Maybe if he watches–”

“Doesn’t matter,” Crocodile growled as he leaned over you. He smiled at you again, touching his fingers to your chin. Then he brought those huge fingers down to rub over your clothed clit again, drawing a breathy moan out of you as you fell back onto the chair. 

He knelt in front of you, gripping his hook below the armrest to pull you, and the chair, toward him.

“The clown’s never gonna taste anything this good again.” 

Notes:

I don't even know what to say anymore. I'm going to go disintegrate.

Chapter 7: Selling Your Soul

Summary:

Crocodile has a taste, and so do you. These powerful men have questions for their numbers girl, and they demand answers.

Notes:

I don't know what to say, lol. I hope you enjoy the meal

Those eyes.

He had you trapped. Your heels were squirming on the carpet as you bit your lip, looking up at his intense expression from the chair he’d caged you in. 

Even though he’d just watched you come in Mihawk’s lap, and had torn your dress off of you himself, you finally felt raw, exposed, under the heat of those pale eyes. 

Your chest was heaving as you tried to speak. 

He beat you to it, leaning even closer as his smoky breath warmed your skin. He brought the back of his hook to your cheek, the cool metal pulling a soft gasp from you. 

“You believe I’ll take care of you, don’t you, Y/N?”

“Yes,” you managed, barely a whisper.

He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before returning, his eyes like molten metal against you as the coolness of his hook left your skin.

“You’re gonna be my sweet girl, aren’t you?”

You nodded, eyes wide as his head dipped, that pale gaze burning even more.

“Y-Yes, I will.”

He let out a soft, deep hum, the sound alone enough to make your eyes flutter. He waited for you to meet his gaze again, freezing you in place.

“You promise?”

These words felt like brands marking your body, changing you, claiming you forever. 

He just waited. His scent and his warmth surrounded you. He wasn’t touching you at all, but it felt like he was everywhere. You breathed him in, and made the choice.

“I promise.”

The shift in his expression was dangerous. Your breath caught at the subtle squint of his eyes. The smile that touched his lips wasn’t just pleased. It was satisfied. As if he was admiring a prized possession. 

As if he owned you.

He does. 

You knew you should be scared. 

But when he brought his lips to yours, to seal your vow with a kiss, you gave yourself to him. 

This frightening man pulled you closer by the chair you were sitting on, and he ate at your mouth slowly, deeply, savoring you. 

Needy sounds left your throat as you clawed at his shirt, pulling the scarf from his vest. You used that orange fabric to pull him closer, as if your strength could ever affect his. 

He pulled back from you with a smile, and your hands clung to him, starting to work at the buttons of his vest. 

“Slow down, sweetheart,” he teased, trapping both of your hands in his. “You’re not ready for me yet.”

An almost feral feeling had taken you over as you let out a soft whine, thighs clenching together. 

“How deliciously eager our little rabbit is,” Mihawk purred from the couch. His wicked voice made you arch your back, and his laughter felt like his teasing fingers on your skin. 

“Don’t worry, sugar,” Crocodile rasped against your ear. “You're gonna have everything you want.”

His lips and tongue on your neck were so much. He sucked at your skin while you twitched and gasped. 

He pulled back, eyes already darker, his lips parted. He grabbed your waist with his hand, and brought his hook to tear at your lingerie, ripping them away as he’d done with your dress. 

“Gods, look at you, sweetheart…”

Already lost to him and his touch, your eyes rolled back as his huge hand smoothed over your body. He let the back of his hand trail across your torso, lightly scraping those heavy rings along your skin. He chuckled as he teased your nipples with those precious stones, making your body jerk from the sensation. 

His rings were replaced by his lips, his large tongue teasing your chest. He sucked there too, and you were sure he was leaving marks across your breasts. 

“Please,” you whimpered, your body writhing under his touch. 

“Please what, darlin’?”

He’d brought those teasing lips up to your ear, nibbling while you tried to speak. 

“Please, I need…”

“My sweet girl will get everything she needs.”

He brought his face to yours, while his hand moved over your hip. His thumb drew closer and closer to where you needed it, and you whimpered again. 

“You trust me, right, sugar?”

“Mmhm,” you nodded, biting your lip.

“Don’t be afraid to ask, babydoll. Just open those pretty lips, and tell me what Daddy Crocodile can do for his sweet girl.”

Your head fell back as you let out a desperate moan, and he pressed warm kisses to your exposed neck. 

You were about to cry, too overwhelmed to speak and beg him for what you needed. 

“You need some help, baby?”

Nodding, your brows furrowed as you fought for some control. 

He kissed down your stomach, and you dug your nails into the armrests, willing him to go further. 

“Mm, is this what my pretty girl needs?”

His massive tongue licked a long stripe through your folds, flicking at your clit until you gave a small scream. 

He kissed up and down your thighs while you practically sobbed with need. 

“You know you’re my girl,” he said, still peppering kisses soo close. “You’ve gotta talk to me, sweetheart.”

“P-Pl–”

“That’s right. Tell me what you need.”

“Your tongue… Please, Daddy.”

“Mm, that’s my girl,” He growled, bringing his lips to your core, giving a slow, sensual kiss to your folds, tasting all that wetness he’d help build. 

“Fuuuck,” you moaned, clinging to the armrests as your toes curled. 

Everything about him was big, but his tongue…

His tongue teased and overwhelmed you, and you were almost there. 

Then that tongue fucked into you, reaching so deep. His nose rubbed against your clit over and over, sending ripples of pleasure through your body. Your fingers dug into that slicked back hair, you felt him use the chair to pull you to him.

You screamed his name, and you called him daddy, and you came on his tongue while he lapped up your pleasure, and called you his ‘sweet girl.’

Slumped in that green velvet chair, you shivered as he whispered over you, leaving trails of kisses and praise. 

“You tired, sweetheart?”

You hummed, your eyes opening to the room. 

Crocodile had moved to the side a bit as he kissed your neck, and whispered in your ear. 

Your legs were spread wide, and your eyes had opened to the sight of Mihawk and Buggy staring. 

Mihawk looked pleased, sipping his wine slowly as if he was enjoying the show. 

Buggy’s mouth was wide open, tongue almost hanging loose. 

You were suddenly not tired. 

“Is my little rabbit out of energy already? How disappointing.”

Mihawk’s teasing smirk made you almost sure that he wasn’t disappointed. Still, there was something in you that wanted to prove him wrong. Something that was probably unhealthy, but you were too far gone to care. 

You pushed yourself forward in the chair, sitting up straight. Crocodile’s face lit up, and his laugh would have embarrassed you if it hadn’t sounded so real. Like you’d surprised him. 

Mihawk stood, and your breath hitched as he took off his coat. 

They’d brought a coat rack into the lounge, but Mihawk also had a specific hanger for his ridiculously fancy coat. You did your best to keep any hint of amusement off of your face as you watched him hang that glorious piece of clothing with such care next to his extravagant hat, leaving his boots there before turning back to you. 

What had started as amusement had shifted quickly as you saw this powerful, untouchable man strip for you.

It felt like you’d stopped breathing entirely as he walked toward you, unclasping the belt on his low slung pants with one hand. His other hand ran fingers through his black hair, letting you admire the stretch of his sculpted muscles.

Crocodile rubbed his hand along your calf before returning to the couch, leaving you alone as the predator stalked close to his prey. 

Those hawk eyes of his looked down on you, a sly smile on his lips as he saw your mouth parted for him. 

“Needy little pet. Would you like some more attention?”

His voice did things to you. 

You wanted to do things to him too.

Knees hit that plush carpet as you slid off the chair, and you looked up at those dangerous eyes while you reached for his pants.

His deep laughter rolled over you as you fought with the clasps, struggling to stay on task as you felt the hard press of him through the fabric.

“This wasn’t the plan, little vixen,” he teased, making you cry out as one of his hands fisted into your hair. 

“But I’ll give you a few minutes to see how much training you’ll be needing.”

His free hand helped you undo the clasps, sliding those pants down to reveal his long, thick cock. It sprang loose, standing straight along his stomach, and he laughed again at your expression.

“You wanted to play. Let’s see what you can do, pet.”

His fingers were tight in your hair, but just enough to speed your pulse, not enough to control your movements yet.

You grasped him in your hands, just the warmth and feel of him making your eyes roll back.

“Good, darling. Show me how much you want it.”

Rolling your heavy lidded eyes up to his, you did your best to show him. 

The taste of precum made your mouth water as you teased his tip with your tongue. You sucked the tip into your mouth, releasing it with a ‘pop,’ as you let spit drip down his shaft for your fingers to glide on. You kept your teary eyes on his as you took him in as deeply as you could, wanting so badly to please him.

“Mm, look at our precious girl, Crocodile. Who would have thought such an idiot could find such a sweet, little treasure like her?”

The sound of Crocodile’s laugh was overpowered by the slide of thick veins along your tongue as you whimpered, feeling even more wetness pooling at your core from pleasing him.

“That’s enough, pet. I’m ready to feel that eager pussy of yours now.”

You let out a soft whine, fingers grasping uselessly at his thighs.

Mihawk tilted his face to the ceiling and let out another laugh, so loud it vibrated through his skin, and into your mouth.

“Just a bit more then, little rabbit, if that’s what you wish. Brace yourself.”

A split second to grip onto his hips, and then you were choking on his cock. 

The hand in your hair held you firm, and it gave evil little jerks with his thrusts, bringing desperate, muffled cries from your throat. 

Fighting to breathe through your nose, your lower body squirmed and writhed under his brutal attack.

Still, you tried to meet his eyes, and give yourself to him. 

His thrusts slowed, finally pulling out of you, catching your shoulders as you slumped. 

“Come, darling,” he soothed, kissing your temple as he lifted you into his arms. 

“We can practice that later. Don’t you think it’s time I fuck into all those hard to reach places for you?”

Your arched back brought out a pleased chuckle as he set you down on the edge of the coffee table, Crocodile’s coat still impossibly warm as it draped over the wood. 

“Clown, fetch our darling a glass of water.”

Buggy practically ran to the bar counter in the corner, filling a glass for you. He almost tripped over the rug on the way back, a bit of water sloshing over the sides. 

“Pathetic,” Crocodile growled with a shake of his head.

Buggy knelt in front of you, but Mihawk yanked his blue hair back before he got too close, bringing a little whimper to Buggy’s lips. 

The swordsman grabbed the glass for you, and you drank, still regaining your voice from the force of his cock down your throat. 

“Move.”

Buggy stood at the threat in Mihawk’s command, returning to that velvet chair that you had just fallen to pieces in. 

Your golden eyed lover knelt before you, taking everything else from your mind with gentle touches and kisses across your hair and skin. 

A sigh left your lips and you reached out to trail fingers along his back.

Until he twisted all that sweetness with his greatest weapon. That wicked voice whispering in your ear.

“You’ve been doing so well, pet. Do you think you deserve this cock?”

“Mmhm,” you begged, nodding as his lips breathed over your neck.

“Such an eager little rabbit, you are. You want to get your pretty little cunt stuffed so badly, you’ll even let us fuck you in front of your old lover. What a filthy girl…”

You were whimpering now, trying, and failing to pull him down onto you. He just moved closer, forcing you to lean back over the table.

“What else would my pretty pet do for me?”

With that question, he brought his hand to your shoulder, his thumb tracing along your collarbone as he pressed you down onto the table, his body hovering above yours now.

“Please…”

Your voice was hardly even a whisper, but he leaned closer, his facial hair teasing along your cheek.

“Is this what you want, little rabbit?”

Just the slide of his cock along your wet folds made you scream, your back arching so high off the table that your stomach touched his warm, sculpted abs above you. 

His laughter was like sweet torture.

“Y/N, I will bring you more pleasure than you ever thought possible. It might even drive you mad. I will have you addicted to this cock, my sweet little rabbit.”

Teasing you again, his tip just barely touched your clit before pulling back. He licked up your neck, nibbling your ear while you twitched beneath him.

“Do you want to be Hawkeye Mihawk’s filthy treasure? My pretty little lover?”

A needy whine escaped your throat as you nodded. 

“What will you do to be mine?” 

The tease held a hint of threat, heating your blood. More words that felt like more than they should. 

He had caged you again, forcing you to meet his gaze. 

Molten gold poured down from those eyes, as if trapping you in golden chains. 

Another vow left your lips tonight, selling your soul after a few short days with these dangerous men. 

“I’ll do anything.”

Notes:

I don't think my brain will ever recover writing writing this series 💀

Chapter 8: I Should Be Afraid

Summary:

You’ve made your promises to these dangerous men, and now they’re making sure you get what you want.

Notes:

I don’t think I really felt like a smut writer until this series. But yeah. This here is some smut.

Another dangerous vow, sealed with a kiss. 

Melting beneath those golden eyes, the soft moan from Mihawk’s throat filled you with a wicked pride.

He pulled back from you with your lip caught between his hungry teeth, chuckling softly as your eyes fluttered.

“Such a good, little rabbit for me.”

His heated words, low and raspy against your skin, felt like fire. His voice did so much to you, every time.

But now, it was the pulsing heat of his cock that made you cry out, clawing into Crocodile’s fur coat before the swordsman had even entered you.

One of his hands pushed you down, trailing from your chest to your hip, while his other hand drove you insane. He teased you more with his tip, and you wanted to beg him for more, until you saw his face. 

Mihawk’s lips were parted, his jaw moving slightly as he stared down at your writhing body. You had seen the man look fucking pleased with himself, enjoying the effect he has on you, always seeming to take what he wanted.

I should be afraid.

His impossible hawk eyes were always predatory. 

Chills pricked your skin under that gaze. You’d never felt more like prey than you did in this moment. 

He studied your movements like he was choosing the best place to pierce your flesh, to spill your blood as he ate his fill. 

Your whole body kept shivering, a sick mix of fear and arousal flooding your veins. This creature that could bring you pleasure or death in an instant grabbed your chin, fingertips digging in until you moaned for him. 

“Keep those pretty eyes on me, pet.”

You nodded in his hand, then failed his command immediately.

Your eyes rolled back as he shoved his thick cock into you, slowly enough to make you moan with every fucking inch. Your back arched off the table as his hips finally met yours, as he stretched you around him.

He stayed fully hilted, and you thought he was giving you a chance to adjust until he shook your face again with those strong fingers. 

Meeting his gaze was brutal. Everything about him was overwhelming you. But you bit your lip hard, and fought to stay still in the golden cage of his dangerous eyes. 

“There you are,” he purred, pulling out of you agonizingly slow. 

He shifted his hand from your chin to the hair at the nape of your neck, jerking you just a little bit so you’d know how much control he had. His free hand pushed one of your thighs toward you as he kept pulling out, until only the tip still pierced you. 

“I want to watch your eyes while you cry on my cock.”

He took you then, the predator claiming his prey as he made your body his.

Your aching cunt that had been desperate to be filled by these dangerous men now twitched and fought. 

The powerful pace he set rocked you, your mind blank of everything but those eyes, and that stretch. You clawed at his wrist, at yourself, and screamed as he filled you so fucking well.

It was too much, too fast, but in no time at all your body was reaching toward his attack instead of failing to run away. 

“Your pussy’s already enjoying the abuse,” he mused, sliding his hand up and down your thigh as he kept the pace. 

“I knew you were a vixen,” he growled, tightening his grip on your hair when his words made your eyes flutter.

“I could smell it on you, little rabbit. I could smell how drenched your pretty cunt got every time we spoke.”

Mihawk started snapping his hips with each thrust, that pressure in your core so close to unraveling again. 

“I heard your precious moans in the next room. Your fingers must have been so tired.”

You were whimpering now, and he smiled as tears streamed from your eyes. 

“Who could believe such a sweet little rabbit was fantasizing about getting all her pretty holes stuffed by such villainous men?”

“Mihawk! I’m clo—“

He slowed, and you clutched at him, your body writhing to keep from losing that high.

His cock pumped slowly, so slowly, until he sheathed himself in you, stroking your skin as you warmed his cock. You knew you looked pathetic as you whined, fighting his strong hands to try to fuck yourself onto him.

He brought his face down for a kiss, a satisfied hum leaving his lips as he tasted your desperate whimpers.

“Don’t worry, pet. You’ve been doing so well. I’m going to let you come in just a moment."

He brought his hand to your face, tracing his thumb along your cheek. 

It seemed almost sweet until he brought his thumb to his lips, drinking your tears from his skin. 

The fear and power of it all arched your back again, and he rewarded you with a few forceful thrusts as his evil laughter rolled over you. 

“I would like to offer you an opportunity, darling.”

His smooth, taunting voice was getting harder to focus on, until he grabbed your chin again.

“Since you’ve been such a good girl for us, I think you deserve a reward, don’t you?”

His eyes bore down on you until you nodded, still whimpering with need.

“Would you like us to fulfill your fantasy tonight? Does my little treasure want both of our cocks in her tight little holes right now?”

“She’s not re—“

Crocodile’s voice was cut off by your screams, and your body slamming and twitching on that fur covered coffee table. 

“Magnificent,” Mihawk laughed. 

He hadn't done a single thing, the length of him still unmoving inside of you. But those filthy fucking words out of his filthy mouth, and the image of them taking you right then, was more than enough. 

“Our little vixen is coming just from the thought of us filling her up. You should feel the way our girl is milking my cock,” Mihawk praised, making you moan his name as he gifted you with a few more delicious thrusts. 

“We promised to give her what she wants, Crocodile. Tell him, little rabbit. Tell him what your pretty cunt just told me. Do you want us both right now?”

Your head fell to the side, looking up at the scarred man. He leaned forward to brush the hair out of your eyes, his frightening face still stunning you with its softness.

“Is that what my sweet girl wants? You want us to stuff our pretty doll tonight?”

Crocodile held your chin, his deep set eyes so dark as he stared down at you.

Overwhelmed, your body still twitched slightly at Mihawk’s slow teasing.

You could say no. You felt safe with them somehow, and you knew it would be alright to say no.

Those large fingers were so gentle on your face while Mihawk stopped his movements. They waited for you. 

Crocodile’s thumb brushed over your bottom lip, and you sucked it into your mouth. 

He gave a sharp intake of breath as you sucked and swirled your tongue around him, filling your eyes with all the heat you needed him to see. 

“You sure you can take it tonight, baby girl?”

He pulled his thumb out slowly, watching the way your lower lip dragged down, smearing a line of spit down your chin. 

“Yes, daddy.”

He grabbed your hand to press against his warm lips, then sat back. 

You felt the vibrations of Mihawk’s pleased laughter before he barked at Buggy.

“Clown, bring me that drawer over there. The bottom one.”

You were too busy watching Crocodile undress slowly, his one hand moving expertly down his vest. 

Gasping, you returned your attention to the swordsman who had just left your body empty. 

He leaned over you at your noise of protest. Pressing a few soft kisses down your stomach, he leaned back with a smile.

“Don’t worry, my sweet. You’ll be properly fucked in just a minute.”

You couldn't have guessed that the man who never smiles just needed someone to torment a bit, and he’d seem like that happiest man in the world. 

Hawkeye Mihawk seemed almost giddy as he plotted ways to torture you.

Stifling your laughter as you sat up, your mouth gaped open when you saw what Buggy was holding.

A large bottle of lube, and a pretty, purple plug. 

Buggy met your eyes, only a few feet from your wrecked body, and he dropped them both.

Mihawk sighed as he caught the items in midair, turning away from Buggy as if he wasn’t there. 

The guilt you had felt for Buggy seemed almost gone after everything, after he had made the choice to be here. 

You knew that look in his pretty eyes. He’d dropped what he was holding, but his gaze burned into you, reminding you of all the times you’d lain naked and wrecked for him. 

Buggy’s eyes held you for too long. 

Vicious fingers closed around your throat, choking you with fear alone as their gentle press only teased the threat.

Your eyes went wide at Mihawk’s glare, uselessly trying to shrink back as he leaned in close, his hand holding you firmly in place. 

“Could I be mistaken? Here, I thought our little pet was being so good to us.”

You kept your eyes locked on Mihawk’s, trying your best to ignore Buggy’s shaking form behind him. 

“Does our little darling deserve a reward, or a punishment?”

“She’s a good girl, Mihawk. Let’s just show her who she belongs to.”

The swordsman relented, kissing your forehead as he trailed his hands soothingly over your body.

You shivered, throwing away the fear, trying to focus back on this moment. This…

Your breath hitched as you tilted back toward the couch. 

Crocodile had undressed.

Holy shit.

“You'll need to stretch our little girl out a bit more for me.”

Mihawk gave an evil laugh in your ear as you choked on your own spit.

“It’s funny, I’m usually the man with the biggest sword in every room.”

Crocodile huffed a laugh. He kept his eyes on you as he fisted himself, slowly teasing his huge cock and cupping his heavy balls as he wet his lips.

“Are you feeling insecure, swordsman?”

“Not at all. I’m just enjoying watching our little rabbit panic.”

You’d turned toward Mihawk at his tease, but the sudden burn of cold metal against your skin made you yelp. 

Crocodile’s hook captured your neck, pulling you close as he leaned down to breathe along your cheek. You had a very clear view of him now, the veins pulsing along his thick cock stealing your attention. 

He held you there, forcing you to watch him pleasure himself before kissing your temple. 

“You can take it, sweet girl.”

Your wide eyes met his, and you opened your mouth to argue. 

“Daddy’ll make it fit.”

He released you from his hook with a menacing chuckle, and you opened your mouth again, not sure if you could handle that. 

“Don’t be so scared, pet. I’ll make sure you’re nice and ready.”

Mihawk pulled you to him, teasing that purple plug along your thighs.

“Your sweet little body will still get split open on our cocks, of course. But I promise you’ll be coming while you scream.”

He hummed when your back arched, and his wicked fingers slid between your folds.

“What a filthy girl. Craving such bad things from such bad men,” he taunted as he rubbed lazy circles over your clit. 

“Mihawk…”

“Mm, is my needy pet going to come again so soon? Maybe I’m spoiling you,” he drawled, taking those damn fingers away.

“Wait, please.”

Your hands wrapped around his wrist, and he arched an eyebrow. You dropped your hands so fast that he gave another soft laugh. 

“Don’t be greedy, darling. Do you remember what you have to do to get what you want?”

The glint in his eyes felt sharp. You could almost feel the vicious pleasure he took when he teased you. 

“I have to be good.”

“That’s right, rabbit,” Mihawk purred as he stroked his fingers through your hair. 

“Now be a good girl, and let me see that pretty little ass of yours in the air.”

Notes:

Someone take this keyboard away from me 💀

Chapter 9: Anything?

Summary:

These dangerous men give you what you asked for. So you ask for a little more.

Notes:

Heeyyyy, so this was meant to be the conclusion of this "one shot." I really hope you enjoy this filthy chapter! I will be pausing this series for a bit to catch up on my other projects, so I hope this is a satisfying place for a little break, but I do plan on playing around with these little fiends some more! (Let's be real though, I might just write the next part tomorrow because I have zero control over my feral brain 😅)

“Wait.”

You were still frozen after Mihawk’s filthy command, so Crocodile’s deep voice just gave you a reason to be still. 

“What are we waiting for, sandman? You told me to stretch–”

“You’ve been hogging all the fun, swordsman,” Crocodile huffed as he stood from the couch.

The massive room narrowed down until all you could see was his veiny, overwhelming cock.

The large man looked down at you with knowing eyes as your mouth went dry. That impressive length bobbed above your head as he moved toward the edge of the coffee table. He went to his knees, and your breath hitched as he started to cage you in.

“I just want a little taste,” Crocodile teased, his deep voice sending chills through you. 

He dug his fingers into your hip until you cried out, but he kept his eyes on Mihawk.

“You’ll still have plenty of work to do. I just wanna fuck my pretty girl’s ass with my tongue before you get it all stretched out.”

The moan that left your lips was almost frightening. It didn’t help that Mihawk was laughing while Crocodile’s one hand flipped you over. That hand was so strong, so big, and suddenly you were flat on your stomach on that coffee table, Crocodile’s fur coat surely wrecked at this point. 

You weren’t sure what you were expecting next, but the heavy smack of his huge cock hitting your ass was not it. Another desperate moan escaped you, and you subconsciously tried to crawl away from that threat. 

Your struggle brought a very different threat to your throat.

Sharp. 

A sharp prick of metal made you gasp, all of your forward movement halted. Any struggle away from that heavy, veiny weapon he wielded would have you skewered on the hook curled around your throat. 

“Baby girl,” Crocodile growled, leaning over to brush the hair from your face while his hook stayed in its lethal position. 

“Didn’t you promise Daddy that you could take it?”

A pathetic whimper started, but got trapped in your throat as the movement pressed against that piercing hook.

He stroked that big hand down your back and the meat of your ass a few times while he let out a soothing hum. As soothing as a sound could be with a deadly weapon at your weakest point.

He started to thrust across your skin slowly, and that thick, warm flesh rubbing between your cheeks to your lower back had you clenching with fear and anticipation. And through it all, your body reacted, dripping with need.

Crocodile thrust a little harder until the heavy slap of his balls met your wet cunt. He moved his hook just in time before you speared yourself on that cold metal while you cried out for him. 

“Shh, sweetheart. Don’t you trust me,” he asked as he peppered kisses down your back, removing that heavy threat of him from your skin.

All you could manage was a weak moan that almost sounded like, ‘yeah.’

“Don’t be scared,” he breathed over you, his vicious fingers reaching under your hips as he forced your ass into the air. 

“How about you hold onto this, huh? Hold it tight while I make my sweet girl feel so good.”

With your upper body still pressed into his coat, Crocodile stretched his long arm forward until you could wrap your left hand around that golden hook. 

He left kisses on your lower back, and smoothed his hand over your ass, lifted up toward him, like an offering for its new owner. 

That’s what this is. They’ll take care of me. Because they own me.

Again, your mind tried to fight. It tried to fight to be terrified, disgusted, angry.

But your body had its own plan. The thought of this frightening man owning every fucking inch of you had your body sighing, going limp and loose, pushing your ass up higher for him. 

“Mm, there’s my sweet girl.”

His long, warm tongue licked a stripe from your clit to your ass before he pulled one of your cheeks aside, and started circling that tight ring of muscle with that large tongue. 

The noises leaving your throat were unrecognizable, animalistic, as he wasted no time in shoving that thick tongue into your tight ass. 

It was too much, and it was too fucking good.

Especially when he brought one of those damn fingers to circle your clit.

“Fuuuckk, Daddy…” 

“Mm, what is it babydoll,” he teased, removing that intrusive, delicious tongue. 

“Does my little girl like Daddy’s tongue in her ass?”

“Mmhm,” you begged, writhing your body to make him keep going.

His laughter vibrated through you as he kept going. His fingers teased your clit expertly, while that tongue invaded you, twisting, shoving, curling around until you came. 

You cried out as you fell apart again, as he shoved his tongue so fucking deep while your body convulsed. Every insane orgasm they ripped from you kept pulling you under.

You hadn’t realized you’d been moaning the word ‘daddy’ until your breathing started to calm, his lips leaving warm kisses along your lower back. 

“Told you she was a good girl,” Crocodile teased as he pulled away from you. “Our sweet girl’s ass just milked my tongue like her life depended on it.”

“Really,” Mihawk drawled, his voice moving closer, “because that sounds like something a slut would do.”

The insult from his filthy mouth sounded like the highest of praise, and it brought another moan from you. 

Crocodile huffed as Mihawk traced his hands along your face and back. 

“Our little rabbit is only a slut for us though, right? Our pretty, precious slut that comes just for us?”

“Mmhm,” you breathed out, trying to push yourself up.

“Such a good girl,” he teased as he pressed down on your upper back to keep you in position. “Time to get you ready. I know how much you’ve been waiting, darling.”

He was behind you now, trailing fingers up your thighs before teasing your folds with his swollen length, bringing his breathy name to your lips.

He chuckled as he entered you slowly, your fingers clutching at the coat beneath you. He started a slow pace, tracing his fingers around the meat of your ass until you were twitching. 

The cool drip of liquid onto your asshole made you clench, and the press of the plug that followed had you shaking, groaning with pleasure. He teased and played with you slowly, stretching you out bit by bit as he pushed it further into you. The tight, almost stinging feeling had your eyes rolling back as it filled you more and more.

Mihawk kept that slow rhythm with his cock and the toy, making you lost in sensation until his taunting voice brought you back.

“I've got some questions, little rabbit, and I expect honest answers. Can you do that for me?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Good. I’ve just been curious about something. Since you were so desperate for us to fuck you the day we arrived, I had to wonder if your needs weren’t being met.”

It wasn’t a question, so you didn’t answer. But if you opened your eyes, you knew you’d see Buggy on that green chair. 

“Did you enjoy letting that clown fuck you?”

When you paused, he pushed the plug in just a little more, making you cry out your ‘yes.’

“Interesting. Did you ever let him into this lovely, tight ass of yours?”

“Yes.” 

“Let’s see,” he teased, bringing more wild noises from you as he stretched you further. “What else would I like to know… How about, did he ever let our sweet rabbit fuck anything into his ass?”

Your eyes fluttered open to see Buggy watching you, his mouth hanging wide.

“Yes.”

“Mm, what a giving lover you are. Such a shame he didn’t treat you right.”

He pressed the plug fully into you now, and didn’t give you time to stop thrashing before his lube covered fingers teased around his cock.

“What are–”

“Stretching you out, darling. You saw Sir Crocodile’s cock, didn’t you? Just take a deep breath…”

Mihawk’s fingers pressed into you, stretching your pussy next to his already impressive cock. It was overwhelming, the fullness you felt left you panting. 

“I think I have one more question for now,” he mused, fucking you slowly open.

“Does the clown’s cock detach, and fly around like all his other bits? Does it function like that?”

You didn’t think it was possible for your skin to flush even more, but you felt your face burning.

The pause you took elicited a deep thrust that had you whimpering.

“Yes, it does. It works.”

His deep laughter hummed through you, before he removed himself, and the plug, leaving you empty. 

Strong hands lifted you gently, and you relaxed against him.

A contented sigh left you as he kissed you from your temple down to the crook of your neck, his facial hair tickling as you failed to push him away. 

Mihawk nipped playfully at your neck, leaving you giggling. As terrifying as this man was, he could be fucking cute when he wasn’t trying scare you.

“Here we go, rabbit,” he rasped in your ear, nibbling on it before he went on. “I can’t wait to watch you break on our cocks, pretty thing.”

Your shaky hands tried to cling to his shoulders as he sat you on the couch, your feet resting on Crocodiles lap.

Right next to his glistening cock, covered in lube, and waiting for you.

“Come on, sweet girl,” his deep voice beckoned, “come sit on Daddy’s lap.”

Mihawk chuckled at you again from his spot on the table while you were frozen. You didn’t even mean to stay still, you were just overwhelmed. 

“We’ll start nice and slow, sweetheart. I know you can take it.”

How can his voice seem so sweet, even with the thread of danger riding just underneath?

Crocodile’s voice helped you move, and you reached for his offered hand and hook. Sitting on his thighs with his pulsing need between you, you basked under his gaze. 

Again, there was still that feeling of being an object, a prized possession. But the way his eyes roamed over every inch of you had you shivering. Like you were stunning, precious.

The cool metal of his hook stroked your cheek, and your eyes fluttered closed at the no longer unwanted sensation. 

“Put your hands on my shoulders, babydoll. I’ll help you.”

You obeyed, your hands still trembling as he guided you to hover slightly above him.

“Let me feel ya just a little, sugar.”

His husky voice gave you chills as you lowered just enough.

He rubbed his tip through your folds, pressing against your sensitive clit, until you had to fight to stay steady.

“So pretty when you dance for me.”

Your eyes had closed as his words rolled over you, but they snapped back to him as he lined himself up. 

“Be a good girl, and breathe for me, alright?”

Now that he was pressed at your entrance, already feeling huge before he was even inside you, he brought his large hand to your waist. It didn’t hurt, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to escape that firm grip unless he let you. 

He kept stroking the back of that hook along your skin as he told you to relax.

Your eyes went wide as you started to take him in, your fingers clawing into his shoulders. You’d never been with anyone this big before and it felt intense, the tip of him invading you as you tried to pull away.

That firm grip of his kept your hips in place while he watched you squirm, digging his fingers in hard until you looked at him.

“Quit fighting. You said you could take it, sweet girl. I don’t like liars.”

His soothing smile would have had more effect if he hadn’t coupled it with those words, and his hook around your neck. Another chain to hold you in place.

“If you don’t breathe, it’s gonna hurt worse. You don’t want Daddy to hurt you, huh?”

You tried to focus on breathing, but a smirk touched his lips that stopped your breath again.

“Mm, but you liked pain, didn’t you,” he taunted, still holding your body at the very tip of him. “Would that help you out, sugar?”

The point of his hook scraped lightly across your lower back, your eyes rolling as you gasped in pleasure from the teasing pain.

That brought out a desperate cry as your body shoved itself further down his shaft from your writhing movement. 

Mihawk was chuckling behind you again while Crocodile showered you with praise.

“Look how well you’re doing for me, baby. That was so good, your pussy feels like heaven, sweetheart.”

Your fingers were digging into his arms as you tried to get used to the stretch. Then his fingers dug into your waist again, and his dark eyes burned into you.

“That’s enough waiting. You know you can take it now, pretty girl. Either you do it, or I’ll do it for you.”

Frozen again, you gasped as he wrapped the hook back around your neck.

“Don’t keep me waiting.”

His growl rolled through your skin, and you started to slide yourself onto him. Your legs had gotten wobbly from sitting above him like that, and he was kind enough to hold you up by the waist when you shook, almost falling down his length. 

The tight, burning stretch of him stole your thoughts. He filled you up more and more, until you took in almost all of him, whimpering in his lap with tears in your eyes. 

“Such a good girl,” he moaned softly as he leaned down to kiss your temple. “You feel me filling you up so good, huh, sweetheart?”

All you managed were whimpers, pathetic fingers grasping at the muscles of his massive chest.

Pleased laughter rumbled through him as he gripped your waist again.

“Just relax, babydoll. I’ll do the rest.”

Your body clenched and tightened around his as he started to move you up and down. Even one handed, he had no trouble lifting and sliding your body while you broke apart, shaking and moaning for him. 

Your grasping hands reached up to hang onto his hook, holding it in place around your neck, and clawing uselessly into the metal.

More praise left his lips as he started slow, but soon you were screaming as he bounced you on his cock, finally forcing your body all the way down until you were filled to the brim. 

“Fuck yes, my perfect fucking girl,” Crocodile moaned between that brutal bouncing. “Knew you could take it all, baby. So proud of you.”

You whimpered when he took his hook away, reaching for something else to cling to. 

Instead, you felt lips and teeth along your neck, sending a pulse of heat right to your core.

The painful stretch of the man beneath you was still overwhelming, but it was also incredible. You were already so close, and Mihawk’s teasing touches had you throwing your head back.

“I thought I might have missed it, but it doesn’t look like you’ve broken her just yet,” Mihawk spoke over you as his hands played along your breasts, lightly pinching your nipples to make you thrash again.

“She’s almost there. Our sweet girl can handle a lot, can’t you, baby.”

“Mmhm,” you managed, trying and failing to help him move you as he fucked you like a doll.

“Alright, little rabbit,” Mihawk breathed along your ear, “I’m going to take you now, just like you wanted. Remember, darling?”

His hands roamed your body, before trapping your hands in one of his. The press of his chest against your back was like fire, heating every part of you. Crocodile slowed, a deep hum moving through him as Mihawk's attention made your body squeeze onto his even more.

“Remember these sweet little fingers trying to please you? When what you really wanted was to be our little treasure? To let us fuck you dumb?”

His words alone would have made you cry out, but he chased those words by stuffing his wicked fingers into your ass, lube letting him slide in easily. 

“Do you still want that? Does our pretty pet want us to fuck her full until she’s dripping with come?”

So much. It was all so much. You could hardly think. 

“Please.”

These two dangerous men both let out deep, satisfied laughs, and you ate it up. 

You wanted them. You wanted it all.

This feels so fucking good.

Mihawk pressed the tip of that thick cock into your ass, reaching his skilled fingers around to your clit.

You came before he’d pushed halfway in, and he used your spasming body as an excuse to sheathe himself fully, ripping screams from your throat. 

Mihawk pushed you forward until you were panting on Crocodile’s chest, while he set one foot on the couch beside the larger man’s thighs to get better leverage. 

You hardly heard their praise through your orgasm as your entire body was focused on the sensation of being full.

“Pretty girl,” Crocodile rasped, helping Mihawk move your body over theirs with his hand on your hip. “Taking us so well. Gonna take care of you, baby.”

Your nod against his chest was probably lost in the heavy thrusts taking you over, making you theirs. 

“He’s right, little darling,” Mihawk purred, wrapping his free hand around your chest to pull you toward him again, arching your back. “I’ve never met such a magnificently filthy rabbit like you. I’m going to make sure you get every sick thing this delicious body craves.”

He kissed your cheek, the sounds of his promise, and his rough breathing, bringing you close to the edge again.

“Pl–”

He took away the fingers at your clit, needy whimpers bringing fresh tears to your eyes. 

“Don’t fret, love. Just answer my questions.”

You nodded desperately, the pressure of their cocks even more intense without his skilled fingers against that needy bundle of nerves. 

“Would you like all three of your pretty holes stuffed full of come?”

A whine left your lips, not understanding.

“What are you doing, swordsman,” Crocodile questioned, his growl almost breathy as he kept shoving into you. 

“Just giving our pet everything she wants,” he taunted, nipping your ear again. “Would you like that clown's cock down your throat while we fuck our come into you?”

A stifled moan floated from behind you, but you couldn’t try to look as Crocodile’s hook touched your cheek. 

That beautiful, frightening man looked down at you, and fear ripped through you again. 

What do they want me to say?

“I don’t like liars, sweet girl. Answer his question.”

They both slowed and paused inside you, your body aching with the need for them to just move. 

“Come on, vixen,” Mihawk coaxed, “it’s a simple–”

“Yes,” you gasped, hoping they wouldn’t punish either of you. 

“You heard her, clown. You should be grateful our little rabbit is so generous.”

The breath you’d been holding came out in a filthy moan as they both started fucking you again, Mihawk’s fingers going back to where you needed them. 

“Hurry up, clown,” Crocodile threatened, his breathing getting ragged again as he bounced you up and down. Your body felt the slide of every thick vein along your clenching walls. 

“If you don’t put your pathetic dick in our sweet girl's mouth right now you won’t be getting it ba–”

If you weren’t almost completely fucked out, you might have giggled at the sight of Buggy’s heavy cock flying in the air above your head, circling for a moment as if afraid to get too close. 

You opened your mouth, letting out a moan that was all the invitation he needed. 

Buggy shoved in harder than he normally does at first, and you felt him pause, as if he hadn’t meant to be that rough. He let you adjust, and you noticed the salty taste of cum along his length. It was more than precum, and it seemed like he’d failed to wipe off all the come he must have spilled in his clothes while he watched you getting fucked.

That thought, that taste, and that force of him down your throat did you in. 

No more thoughts. No more worries or fears. Nothing but these three cocks throbbing inside you, taking you, molding your body to fit theirs. 

A vague awareness you still had on reality noticed your muffled, choked screams, your body thrashing until firm hands held you in place, a hook around your neck, fingers pulling at your hair. 

Sweet praise, vulgar grunts, and the wet, slapping and squelching sounds of your body being used filled the air.

“My sweet girl…”

“My little rabbit…”

“My pretty star…”

You almost didn’t hear that last soft voice before his come spilled down your throat, your hands grasping at someone’s skin while your eyes fluttered.

He left your mouth, floating away while you licked your lips. 

“You ready to fill our girl, Crocodile? I think she’s waited long enough.”

Mihawk’s fingers danced on your clit even faster, and the feeling of their cocks rubbing against each other through the thin, sensitive flesh inside you brought drool to your lips.

“Let’s take care of her,” Crocodile’s voice seemed to threaten, the jolting of his hook around your neck bringing your heavy lidded eyes to his. 

You couldn’t keep your eyes on his for long. 

Not as you felt both of them throbbing, their thrusts slowing and staggering, and their deep moans vibrating through you.

“Such a good girl, taking my come. Fuck, baby…”

“My greedy little pet, you like us fucking you dumb? Get used to it, darling. You feel him filling you, unf, filling you up? Take mine too, rabbit. Fuck, milk our cocks just like that…”

One more orgasm tore through you, like your body was made to suck them up, to devour them. 

Feeling their achingly hot ropes of come pouring into you was one more sensation on a pile of others tonight that you never knew you needed. But now you needed to have it again. 

After all your thrashing and screaming had ceased, gentle hands laid you onto that warm expanse of chest. 

The emptiness was abrupt and painful, and Crocodile gave you soothing noises and praise while Mihawk trailed fingers down your skin.

“Crocodile, you really should get a look at how beautiful she is. Forget jewelry, our little treasure deserves to be dripping with come everyday.”

His pleased voice was close to you, and you twitched as he left soft kisses along your lower back. 

“I’ll have plenty of chances to see her like that. Let’s take our pretty girl to get cleaned up. Clown, go make sure there’s enough towels in my room.”

“Why your room,” Mihawk questioned, as you heard the door to the lounge open and close. 

“I had my own bed brought in,” Crocodile said, his deep voice making you sleepy as you felt it through his chest. “It’s got more than enough room for the three of us. Unless you’d prefer to sleep alone?”

“Not at all. I doubt the bath will be large enough, although I suppose you prefer showers,” Mihawk mused as you heard the distinctive sound of wine filling his glass. 

Soft whimpers left your throat as your wrecked body tried to knock you out. Crocodile just ran that huge hand down your back, shushing and soothing you until the door opened again. 

“Darling, is there anything else you need besides a shower,” Mihawk asked, sitting beside Crocodile to stroke his fingers through your hair. “We’re bringing water, and wine, but let us know if you’re hungry. Our little rabbit put in a lot of work tonight.”

“You need anything, sweetheart?”

Both of their voices offering to care for you sent chills over your skin, and you moaned softly as your body twitched. 

“Please, just…”

Mihawk brought your fingers to his lips, another soft kiss making you sigh.

“Please, keep touching me.”

“Mm, my pleasure,” he purred, leaving another gentle kiss to your knuckles. “Let’s get you cleaned up. 

Mihawk wrapped you in that ruined coat before carrying you down the long hallway, bringing you into Crocodile’s suite as you heard the large man’s voice echoing in the hall. 

“Sit by the door, clown. I want you here in case our girl needs anything.”

A small noise escaped your throat, but Mihawk just kissed your forehead, carrying you away.

“Can you stand for a moment, love? You can hang onto the counter.”

This cruel, terrifying swordsman set you gently onto the bathroom floor, took that heavy coat from your shoulders, and knelt at your feet. He brought a damp washcloth to your skin, handling you with so much gentleness that it made your head swim.

Until he looked up at you with a wicked smirk, and opened that mouth of his.

“Look at my slutty little rabbit, dripping come all the way down to the floor.”

Your body tightened, and your knees went weak as you tried to catch yourself on the counter. 

Mihawk just laughed, carrying you to the large shower.

“I’ll hold her,” Crocodile demanded, removing his hook to set on the counter. “You wash her.”

You couldn't be sure, but it seemed like Crocodile didn’t take off that hook in front of many people. 

Mihawk set you in his arms before starting the shower, bringing his dangerous fingers back to you as he washed you with care.

“Don't push our girl anymore tonight,” Crocodile growled as Mihawk’s fingers trailed lower.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he purred.

You might have fallen asleep as they took turns holding you to wash themselves, hardly noticing them dry your skin as you yawned, their deep voices holding a conversation that you couldn’t understand. 

What you could understand was their touch that never left you. The smooth, soothing motions of hands along your back. The warm press of lips against your temple, your shoulder. Those strong arms and hands carrying you to the huge bed. Warm bodies sliding in next to yours, surrounding you.

“Need anything else, sweetheart?”

“Hm,” you perked up, feeling so good, so relaxed.

Your eyes opened just enough for you to see the door, and the clown that sat on a chair beside it. 

“Anything,” you whined, writhing as the warmth of their skin made you shiver with pleasure. 

“She was very good, Crocodile,” Mihawk teased, nuzzling against your ear until you squirmed.

“Alright. What does my sweet girl want?”

There was just enough energy in your body to feel fear, but you were too tired to care. You probably should have asked for something else. 

Tilting your head back and forth to see their frightening faces, you hoped they wouldn’t be angry. Almost had hope that they might even listen. 

“I want you to be nicer to Buggy.”

Notes:

Thank you so much for joining me on this wild ride! That was the longest sex scene of all time 😅 This has been a blast to write with all of you screaming at me in the comments. Please don't murder me for the break, lol

Chapter 10: All You Gotta Do is Ask

Summary:

You find out if your frightening lovers will grant your request. But first, you've got some work to do.

Notes:

It's good to be back 🐊🤡🗡

RECAP: You gave in to your wicked cravings, and had a mind-blowing night with the villains that own you. They even let your former lover join. Since you were so good for them, they offered to give you whatever you wanted. You asked for them to be nicer to your sweet, hopeless clown.

“What’s this,” Mihawk growled against your ear, his soothing hand starting to tease nails into your skin. “Our little rabbit is going against the one thing we’ve asked of her? Don’t lower yourself for that—“

“Don’t hurt her.” 

That bitter snarl was emphasized by what sounded like a chair clattering to the floor along with it.

Mihawk’s fingers found your cheeks, digging in while he kept you from looking toward that voice by the door. 

“Both of you need to calm down,” Crocodile scolded, his deep voice echoing through your bones. He brushed Mihawk’s hand away, tracing his own large fingers down the side of your face.

“Our girl is just too sweet. Isn’t that right, babydoll? You wanna please everyone, don’t you?”

A small whine left your throat, your body too spent for anything more.

“I suppose you’re right,” Mihawk relented, returning to his soft touches that made you sigh, but staying propped up on an elbow to toss a threat across the room. “You, clown. Don’t get bold just because we let you wet that pathetic dick of yours. We’re not as sweet as our little darling here.”

“Enough,” your scarred lover rasped, the comforting press of his lips to your temple sending your body into deep, delicious sleep.

~

Hushed voices pulled you from dreams, until you stretched across the giant bed. A large hand rubbed down your blanket covered back while the voices grew louder.

“How long until our order arrives? My eyes can’t take much more of this,” Mihawk drawled, and you opened your eyes to find him frowning at a gaudy top before tossing it onto a pile of other unworthy garments.

“Less than a week,” came Crocodile’s heavy voice. That frightening face gave you a smirk when you met his eyes, lifting your palm to his lips. “Mm, how’s my girl?”

This has to be a dream.

Melting under his attention, a soft gasp left you when Mihawk’s weight settled on your other side. Long, dangerous fingers caressed your face, before he breathed against your ear. 

“Get ready for work, darling. We need more berry to buy you pretty things,” he teased, humming at your soft whines while you reached for him. “Such a greedy little rabbit…”

Crocodile huffed until Mihawk lifted you, carrying you to the large bathroom. He set you down on the plush rug in front of the mirror. Your ragged reflection would have kept all of your attention while the swordsman started the water for you, but instead, you stared at a stretch of that long counter between the sinks. All of your toiletries were lined up there, even the products you hadn’t been able to grab from Buggy’s suite. 

“Your shower will get cold,” Mihawk remarked,  interrupting your open-mounted confusion to leave a kiss on your shoulder as he left. “Your barely acceptable dress is on the back of the door. Don’t be too long, rabbit. Unless you need some help in there?”

You shook your head at his offer, still trying to jolt yourself awake. Showering in a daze, you marveled at all your little marks and aches, finally waking to the fact that last night had really happened. You had gotten your filthiest wish.

And now, you belonged to them. 

A strange sense of satisfied acceptance washed over you as you took care of yourself for the bad men you could still hear speaking quietly in the next room. Mihawk had told you not to take too long, but you didn’t want to rush. You wanted to look your best for them.

And what a feeling it was. 

The urge to squirm, to hide from their gaze almost overwhelmed you, but you curled your toes into the carpet, chewing on your lip. Mihawk’s golden eyes pierced you again, a hawk watching its prey before tearing it to shreds, while Crocodile’s pale gaze and subtle smirk raked over your skin with the pleasure of a man who’d just purchased a one of a kind, his prized possession. 

Where’s Buggy?

That question bubbled through your mind, but you weren’t ready to ask it yet. At least not until you’d seen if he was in the lounge.

At least not until you’d basked in the feeling of being wanted by these dangerous men.

I really am crazy.

“Come here, pretty girl,” Crocodile ordered, standing up from the edge of the bed. You moved toward his deep voice without a thought, heart pounding in your ears while you craned your neck to look up at him. He hunched low for you to climb into his arms again. 

“Oh,” you hesitated, taking a half step back, “I thought since... I know there should be at least one pair of acceptable–”

“I’m offering to carry my sweet girl,” his dark voice rumbled. You could see Mihawk in the corner of your eye, settling back down on the couch to watch the exchange. “Are you complaining about–”

“N-no, sir,” you interrupted him, voice high as you tried to think. “I just think if we look through all the shoes, you won’t have to carry me any–”

Crocodile's speed tore a surprised yelp from you. He didn’t hurt you, but from one moment to the next, he went from towering over you, to sitting back on the bed with you standing between his thighs, his hook around your neck.

“Didn’t you promise to be a sweet girl for Daddy?”

“I…” you breathed, unable to string a coherent thought together while he stroked your hair, that cool metal around your neck making you shiver. Mihawk's quiet laughter floating through the air didn’t help.

“I’ve been letting your feelings for the clown slide, sweetheart. But now you’re interrupting me? Now you’re complaining about me taking care of my girl? Now you won’t even answer a simple question,” he accused, pressing thick fingers into your jaw. “You promised me you’d be a sweet girl, and I don’t like liars.”

“B-but, sir–”

“Still talking back,” he tutted, bringing his forehead down to yours. “And not even calling me by my proper name. Such a brat.”

The fear in your stomach twisted into something else, a breathy moan leaving your lips when he forced you over his knee. Your legs were between his as you were bent over one of his large thighs. His hook hung loose around your throat while your head and arms dangled freely toward the floor on the other side. That deadly metal wasn’t hurting you, or holding your body into any position, but he let it sit against your skin. A constant reminder that you would always be vulnerable, always be in danger, no matter how many pretty words and gifts they showered you with. 

The reminder of that danger had heat pooling in your core, your hips lifting up to meet his view. You couldn’t help but writhe, pressing your thighs together. 

“Hm, so you’ve been acting up because you’re feeling greedy,” he growled, his warm hand smoothing the dress up your thighs until it collected around your waist, revealing your soaked panties. “Didn’t I already tell you I’d give you everything you want?”

You let out a whine as those thick fingers teased along that flimsy, wet fabric. He ghosted over your clit, trailing slick around your thighs while you ached for more. 

“Answer me, brat,” Crocodile fumed, a breathy scream leaving your throat as he twisted those fingers around the middle of your drenched panties to yank them up toward his growling face, creating delicious, almost painful pressure against your clit, the rough pull stretching through your sensitive flesh. 

“Y-yes, you did! You promised everything,” you cried out, back arching at the tug of fabric against your hips, sure that it was about to tear.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, d-daddy.”

“That’s a start,” he huffed, dragging your panties halfway down your thighs, while Mihawk continued to chuckle across the room. 

“You got something to say,” Crocodile threatened the swordsman, his hand smoothing territorially over your exposed skin.

“Not at all,” your golden eyed lover teased, meeting your fluttering gaze when you twisted your neck to find him. “I’m just admiring your technique. I have a feeling our little rabbit might need to take a few more punishments. I think she might even enjoy it, isn’t that right, slut?”

The sigh his filthy words sent through you loosened your body again, earning a low hum from the man that had you at his mercy. 

“If you want us to hurt you, all you gotta do is ask,” Crocodile’s deep voice scolded. His palm smoothed over your ass, your thighs, your dripping cunt, smearing your slick across your skin. “You don’t need to act like an ungrateful little brat.”

His hand lifted, and you’d had a feeling it was coming, but there was no way you could have prepared for the sharp sting of his massive hand. It covered so much of your skin it made you dizzy, yet even through the pain, your core pulsed with heat, toes curling as you arched your back. 

“Not even fucking sorry, are you?”

You couldn’t answer through your vulgar moan, or Mihawk’s taunting laughs as he pulled up a chair closer to the show. 

“Even after all that attention last night, you still had to act up,” Crocodile asked, dragging a finger through your wet folds. Your sensitive flesh twitched as he teased around your clit, then threatened around the rim of your asshole. “I didn’t think this lovely body could take much today, but if my girl is so fucking desperate for abuse that she’ll act like a spoiled little cunt, then maybe we should stuff you ‘til you can’t complain anymore. Is that what you’re asking for, brat?”

Tears streamed from your eyes that had rolled white from another sharp spank, and from Mihawk’s rough fingers fisting into your hair. 

There was no way you could speak. No way you could say yes, or no to anything while your skin tingled with intoxicating pain. You were overcome with sensation, with need, with the freedom of giving up all control.

“Mm, I think our girl is drunk,” Mihawk mused, leaning down to watch your tongue lolling out of your mouth. “I don’t think she’s ready for this sort of fun yet. We need a word, don’t we, little rabbit? Do you need to stop?”

A warbled moan left your throat while he paused.

“Are you ready to have all your pretty holes fucked open again, or do you still need some time to rest?”

This slurred moan came with a pathetic wiggle, bringing soft laughs from both of these bad men. 

“Alright, sweetheart. I’ll forgive you today,” Crocodile hummed, Mihawk helping him pull you into his arms. “Let’s get you cleaned up, and get some breakfast. Then you can tell me all about how sorry you–”

Whining against the heat of his chest, you pulled at his scarf, struggling to get close enough to feel his lips on yours. 

“Try not to break her,” Mihawk laughed while you clawed at that silky vest. “I’ve got morning plans anyway. I’ll make sure breakfast is set up after an appropriate amount of time. We still need our little rabbit to do some work today.”

“I’ll be gentle,” your scarred lover threatened, tossing you onto the bed when the door closed. He pulled off his scarf and vest, but left the rest on as he crawled between your legs.

He pulled those ruined panties off of your writhing body, admiring the mess he’d made of you. 

“Please…”

“Hm, is that the first thing you should be saying to me right now?”

He breathed against your inner thighs, his fingers playing in the slick around your entrance. You almost got lost again, but pulled yourself into the moment. Those menacing eyes burned into yours while you swore yourself to him.

“I’m sorry, daddy. I promise I’ll be a good girl.”

“There ya go,” he praised, pressing a sensuous kiss to your clit. “All I wanna do is take care of you, sweetheart. Gonna listen to your daddy from now on?”

“Yes, I promise,” you moaned, his tongue already so close to destroying you again

“That’s my girl.”

It was usually Mihawk’s evil voice and wicked words that could make you come in an instant, but Crocodile’s deep rumble of praise and ownership as he lapped up your need sent you screaming his name, mussing up that slick backed hair while you pulled him toward you, coming hard all over that menacing face. 

You could barely move while he crawled up your body, letting you lick your mess off of his skin before he kissed you for what felt like hours. He was so much bigger than you, but he never crushed you. Under his touch, you felt precious, like something to be protected, enjoyed, treasured. 

It was a whole other high than the one you had felt when he'd bent you bent over his knee. 

“Come on, sweet girl. Let’s get some food.” 

~

Crocodile had helped you get presentable again, and you hadn’t argued when he knelt down to carry you. His strong, comforting arms held you through the halls, and you realized that you might actually miss them carrying you everywhere.

What a difference a few days can make. 

“Your food got cold,” Mihawk drawled over his espresso. “They’re bringing something else.”

Crocodile lit a cigar after he set you down, that little table on the balcony making you feel suddenly exposed. All the pirates and workers down below could look up and see the ex warlords having breakfast with their pet. Mihawk’s almost bored voice broke you out of those thoughts.

“Your work yesterday was well done. The fact that you were able to secure funding from a new backer so soon is impressive. Do you have other contacts that would be willing to part with a few berry for us?”

“I’m not sure,” you confessed quietly, trying to get back into business mode. “I had quite a few wealthy clients that were loyal to me, and they always have friends in their little rich people circles. I don’t know how many would want to be associated with…”

Your wide eyes flicked between them until Mihawk gave a tiny smirk, Crocodile’s laugh relaxing your nerves. 

“I’ve had plenty of dealings with rich idiots,” Crocodile grunted, putting out his cigar as the breakfast plates were taken away. “In my experience, the best way to get them to loosen their purse strings is to make them feel special.”

“Go on,” Mihawk waved his hand, but Crocodile only had eyes for you.

“What do you think would get more of these wealthy fools to throw their berry away, sweetheart?”

Your first thought seemed too simple, and you didn’t want to disappoint the men before you. But your mind went blank, and you didn’t want to take too long. 

“A party.”

~

Mihawk carried you to the lounge, giving a satisfied hum when you let your head fall, resting against the crook of his neck. 

“Why do you smell like that,” you wondered aloud, wanting to crawl out of your skin for asking something so rude.

He sat you in your chair, and you thought you were going to get away with it until he perched on your desk, pulling your chin up so he could study you.

“Smell like what, little rabbit?”

“I… I don’t know,” you almost paused, the slightest tilt of his head making you pull panicked words from your lips. “Normally you smell so good, but— y-you still smell good, I just…”

Mihawk gave a real laugh, releasing your chin as he threw his head back. You caught eyes with Crocodile across the room while you waited to see if this deep laughter would be good or bad for you.

“Don’t be so scared, pet,” he soothed, the barest hint of color gracing his cheeks as his breathing returned to normal. “I’m impressed. You’ve shown yourself to be quite perceptive. That can be very useful.”

Dracule fucking Mihawk tapped the tip of your nose.

“Go ahead, rabbit. See what you can smell.”

Dangerous fingers moved in front of your face, and after another moment of fear, you grabbed his arm. Closing your eyes, you tried to be subtle as you sniffed his skin, his sleeve, the heat of his palm warming your cheek while you smelled his wrist. 

“It smells… dusty, like you were out on the sand but…” He stayed silent, and you opened your eyes to find him observing you, still waiting. “It’s like dirt, but a little bit sour.”

He kissed your cheek before handing you a notebook and pen. 

“Crocodile, our little darling is a bloodhound. Maybe she can be our poison sniffer,” he chuckled to himself, leaving you with an open mouth and zero explanations. 

“I think we can find better uses for her.”

“What–”

“You’ve wasted enough time today, rabbit,” Mihawk scolded, cracking a book as he lounged at his own desk.

“Write a list of all of your contacts,” Crocodile cut in, your head snapping toward his desk on the other side of the large room. “Make sure to include personal details, business associations, any leverage that could be used against them, your opinion on how best to gain their support, etc. We’re gonna need a good guest list for that party.”

“But–”

“But what, sweetheart,” Crocodile tested, earning a squeaked, “nothing,” from you before you went to work.

When you dove into this new life, you had done the proper things first. You had resigned from your position, contacted all of your clients to thank them for the opportunity to work with them, and you had turned in all of their private files. 

Sure, your personal life was left in shambles, but you hadn’t burned any professional bridges. If you ever needed to leave Buggy, you would have been able to find another job easily. 

Although, now you were wishing you’d hung onto those private files. At least you’d kept all of your client’s contact information, if not their financial secrets. 

But you did have a really good memory.

Even through lunch and dinner, your mind was caught, pulling up more and more from your memories that could be helpful. 

Writing lines of information that could be used to hurt people.

I’m a villain now.

You shook that thought away as you wrote down the details of a mistress and lovechild whose trust fund you’d helped set up discreetly, for a rather impressive fee.

Maybe I wasn’t that good before anyway.

The excuses you’d built up in your mind back then fizzled out when Crocodile took your notebook, carrying you to the couch where Mihawk waited with a glass of wine.

“Can I keep the notebook,” you pleaded, playing with the pen he’d left in your fingers.

“Work’s over. Don’t want my sweet girl overdoing it.”

He tossed the pen aside, wrapping his arm around your shoulders as you settled between them. Mihawk brought your fingers to his lips, chuckling softly while you melted into that sinful, green couch.

“Would you like to know what that nose of yours smelled earlier, darling,” the swordsman teased, pressing dangerous lips to your wrist. 

Relaxation and curiosity moving through you, but before you could reply, something in his words stopped you. Your tired brain struggled to puzzle it out, struggled to remember what you were missing.

“Where’s Buggy?”

Guilt ripped through you. You’d thought of him once today, and had chosen not to ask about him so that you could keep enjoying yourself. 

I haven’t even thought about him all day. I’m such a selfish–

“Why do you care,” Crocodile asked. His voice was even, but with a tension rumbling through it, just enough for your breath to catch. He set his large hand on the back of your neck as he tilted toward you, Mihawk mirroring the turn while he massaged his fingers, almost too hard, into the meat of your palm. Your lips parted, but nothing came out. 

“You haven’t asked about him all day,” Mihawk noted, that venomous tease coating his words. “Was our little treasure just following orders? Or could it be that you forgot all about that worthless clown?”

A muffled noise behind you made you gasp, the tension on the couch cutting you off from the rest of the world. 

“Go on, she finally asked,” Crocodile jerked his head over his shoulder. Mihawk nodded, kissing your knuckles before moving behind the couch. 

The swordsman dragged something heavy, giving a small grunt as he lifted Buggy, tossing him onto the coffee table before you. 

Buggy’s name fell silently from your lips as his tired eyes took you in. 

His hands were bound in large cuffs. Sea prism stone, like the pair his new recruits had been able to steal for him during their escape from Impel Down. It was probably his own pair, trapping his body in one piece while he listened to you enjoying your time with his torturers. 

You thought you’d let this guilt go, but it was all piling on again as you watched Mihawk pull the gag from Buggy’s mouth, wiping long fingers on the clown’s deflated, red suit before sitting beside you again. 

“My sweet girl was so good for us last night,” Crocodile breathed against your temple, his grip around your neck pressing a little tighter. “You asked us to be a little nicer to the clown, so we were.”

“I…”

“That’s right,” Mihawk purred, rubbing your hand again while he pressed a large key into your palm. “Instead of beating him for his insolence last night, we put his fate in our little rabbit’s hands. How were we to know that you’d forget all about your former lover? We would have given you his key this morning if you’d cared enough about this trash to wonder where he was.”

“Don’t cry, sweetheart,” Crocodile soothed, kissing the slow tears that were beginning to stain your cheeks. “We’re not gonna kill him, okay? And we’ll try not to hurt him. We need this dumbass to be the face of Cross Guild, remember? You'll even get spend some time with him, make sure he doesn’t fuck up our little party.”

“I’m okay,” Buggy choked, a failed smile on his lips as he glanced down at the key in your palm. “Mind giving me a hand?”

“Oh,” you spluttered, shaky fingers freeing him from the icy stone. 

“Thanks, doll,” he winked, before he was half running, half floating toward the back of the room. Toward the bathroom.

“Idiot,” Crocodile grumbled.

A giggle escaped your lips, and you felt the pressure of sharp eyes. But you giggled again. Your silly clown racing straight to the bathroom after being chained up all day made your cheeks hurt while you tried to fight more laughter.

Especially when he came floating back in, his feet running behind while he propped himself on an elbow on the coffee table. 

Possessive fingers dug into your skin, your body relaxing against the touch of the deadly men on the couch beside you. 

But even with the weight of their power, their dominance over you, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the ridiculous man on the table. The man who should be angry, or scared, or trying to run away. Who should be scheming, and leaving your traitorous heart behind. 

The man who laid there with a wild grin on his face, wiggling his fingers while he gave you another wink with those crystal blue eyes. 

“So, I hear my pretty star is throwing a party.”

Notes:

I missed my Buggy boy so much 🤡🥰 Also, I'm dying to know how you felt about our Daddy Crocodile. I don't think his devil fruit powers would be able to drain all the moisture from me (😅 sorry)

Chapter 11: Now We Can Have Some Real Fun

Summary:

Another night with the Cross Guild reminds you of all the reasons why you should feel afraid, and all the reasons why you don't. Mihawk and Crocodile discuss your professional responsibilities.

Notes:

I don't think my brain is attached to my body when I write about these bad men 🤷🏼

The smile that broke across your face sent chills over your skin, even under the dangerous hands that gripped you on either side. 

Buggy’s smile grew impossibly wide, his eyes flaring when he saw how he’d affected you. He looked truly happy for the first time in days as he leaned closer, reaching a gloved hand toward yours. Faded red lips parted, but his words died in his throat when a golden hook wrapped around it. 

“I said we’ll try not to hurt you,” Crocodile rasped, yanking his hook just slightly until Buggy gulped, his wide eyes reflecting that menacing face. “Don’t get handsy with our girl when you smell like trash.”

“You got it, boss. I’ll go take a shower!”

Buggy’s head floated up while he nodded, freeing himself from the deadly hook. He flew toward the door, leaving a floating hand to wave for a moment before he was gone. 

“That’s not what I– fucking clown,” Crocodile grumbled, his hand still gripped around your neck while you held your breath to keep from laughing. 

“He really is a fool, isn’t he,” Mihawk wondered aloud, swirling the wine in his glass while his free hand released your fingers. He touched your knee, the gesture innocent, until the pads of his fingers teased circles around your skin. “How’s my little bloodhound, hm?”

“Blood–”

“Yes, darling,” he hurried, handing you your own glass to sip. “You did well with our wine tasting the other night, and today you told me that I smell like– what was it… dirt, but sour?”

You coughed as wine burned down your throat, and Crocodile patted your back a bit too hard while he chuckled softly. 

“I’m not offended,” the swordsman teased, grabbing your chin to pull you his way. Those piercing eyes scraped your skin until he gave a small smile. “I surveyed the local soil this morning to determine the best crops for the area. It’s decent, but a bit acidic, hence the sour smell.”

Unable to comprehend anything he’d said, you couldn’t stop your lips from parting, your brows from creasing, or your whole face from looking stupid while you tried to translate his words.

“You like to garden,” Crocodile asked, that deep voice soft with surprise. 

“I took up farming during my stay on Kuraigana,” Mihawk cleared his throat, releasing your flustered face while he took a sip of that potent wine. “It's a very productive hobby.”

“I’m sure it is. I bet that blade of yours works wonders on those stubborn weeds.”

The larger man’s taunt sped your pulse. You wanted to be as far away as possible if these two ex-warlords ever fought.

“I am capable of killing plenty of things without dirtying Yoru. Just be sure to keep your dry skin away from my vegetables,” Mihawk scoffed, taking another long sip as Crocodile let out a hearty laugh.

After a few moments of what couldn't be sulking, Mihawk sighed, returning his attention to you. 

“How are you feeling, pet? Did mean ol’ Crocodile rough you up too much earlier? Did he ruin that sweet, little cunt of yours?”

His fingers slid up your thigh, pushing the hem of your dress higher while he checked in.

“Go easy on her.” 

That warning growl stilled Mihawk's hand for just a moment before he let out a piercing laugh.

“Says the man I had to rein in earlier. Did you end up tearing her pretty pussy to shreds anyway? Before our little treasure even picks a safe word?”

“Watch your—“

“I have a safe word,” you chirped, interrupting Crocodile for the second time today. They were both quiet, the silence making you itch.

“Why didn’t you tell us,” he questioned, those large fingers kneading your neck and shoulders.

“Well, you didn’t ask, and I didn’t think…”

“You didn’t think what, exactly,” Mihawk cut in, a dangerous tease in his words. “Didn’t think that two ex-warlords would care at all if their favorite toy got broken beyond repair?”

He kissed your cheek then, squeezing your thigh while he poured more of that wicked voice in your ear.

“Don’t worry, pet, I’ll break you as many times as I please. But if you don’t take good care of my things, we’ll have a very different kind of punishment.”

“You know we’ll take care of you,” Crocodile rasped, the cold metal of his hook smoothing over your cheek. “Tell us your word, but promise you’ll only use it when you need it, sweetheart. You know how I feel about liars.”

“I p-promise. It’s ‘hopscotch.”

“Perfect,” Mihawk nibbled on your ear before pulling away. “Now we can have some real fun.”

A cheerful tune came whistling through the door before it burst open. Buggy gleamed under the light in a set of red pajamas, his long blue hair braided over his shoulder leaving a damp stain against that clean fabric.

He’d donned a light version of his circus makeup, and it hurt your heart to think of how long it might be before you saw him without it again. 

“This clown is as clean as a whistle,” Buggy announced, winking at you while he dragged the velvet chair as close as possible. He plopped himself down, laying his legs across the coffee table to wiggle his blue-painted toes in front of your knees. 

You shoved a knuckle between your teeth after a snort slipped out of you, and Buggy sent a floating hand to tug gently on your earlobe. Your cheeks burned, and you had to close your eyes.

The past few days had ripped you away, and you’d been feeling frustrated before then. 

But Buggy could always make you laugh. 

“It's been a long day,” Mihawk drawled, ignoring the barefoot clown as he looked over your head at Crocodile. “I think I’ll help our little rabbit tuck in for the night. Come along, pet.”

He stood gracefully, and you took his offered hand, not knowing what he was truly offering. 

“I’ll join you shortly,” Crocodile said after a pause, eyeing the swordsman as he carried you toward the door.

“I’ll come–”

Glancing back, you saw that golden hook catch Buggy’s braid, forcing him to turn away from you. 

“We don’t need you waiting by the door tonight,” the larger man chuckled, his deep voice following you through the air into the hallway. 

Mihawk’s hands felt electric as he held you, the chaste touch somehow tearing through your body.

How can he make every little thing feel so fucking filthy?

He hummed to himself as if he’d heard your thought, carrying you into Crocodile’s suite. You spun while he hung up his fancy coat, noting all the changes the suite had gone through since this morning, only stopping to watch Mihawk pull a few items from a wardrobe that hadn’t been there before. 

“Join me for a shower,” he asked lightly, tapping your nose. “I couldn’t bear to make my pet sleep with the scent of sour dirt tonight.”

“Okay,” you coughed to hide a laugh, still not sure how to act around this stoic man who didn’t seem so stoic around you.

Deadly hands undressed you, tracing your skin softly, just enough to make you sigh. Standing on that fluffy bath mat again with his nude body so close had you curling your toes, and you couldn't look away while he started the water.

“Here, darling,” he ordered, handing you a shower cap before brushing a few strands from your face. “It would be a shame to dull this pretty hair by overwashing it. Do you think those high society clients would still respect my little rabbit if she’s not as shiny as she was?”

“I don’t–”

Cruel fingers fisted into your hair, stretching your neck to the side while his tongue teased along that vulnerable flesh. You moaned as you clung to his sides, trying to stay on your feet while he guided toward the shower. He released you, his harsh grip followed with a gentle touch as he helped you put the cap on, tucking stray strands inside. 

Mihawk pulled you under that perfectly hot water, making your eyes roll back as he began to wash your skin. No touch was overtly sexual, but each one was sensual, leaving your body tingling, muscles relaxing under his attention. 

You’d almost forgotten what he’d been talking about.

“What will they think of their perfect numbers girl now that she’s my filthy pet? The Cross Guild’s pretty little slut?”

Blinking a few times to get your heavy lidded eyes to work, you found him waiting for you. Watching him spread suds across his unreal body almost took your mind away again.

“Some of them will judge me,” you started, meeting his searing gaze through the steam. “They’ll think I’m stupid, or crazy, or a whore.”

“Maybe all three,” he mused. You cut him off before the next words could leave his lips. 

“Most of them will be jealous.”

His lips quirked just slightly, and he pulled you under the water again, leaving a wet kiss on your lips as the soap rinsed away. 

“Why would they be jealous of you, Y/N,” he rasped when he wrapped a warm towel around you. Your name on his lips sent fear through your veins, making you question your answer, but you knew you could never lie to him. 

“I think they’re just as bored as I was, if not more. That’s why it’s so easy to convince them to throw money at ridiculous things. Why they all have stupid, petty skeletons in their closets. They’re boring people with boring lives, and they would kill for a little adventure, if they weren’t such fucking cowards. So instead of living, they just pay an obscene amount of berry to rub shoulders with little danger now and then.”

You ended your rant with a shrug, hanging the towel up to dry while the swordsman studied your every movement.

He left you in silence again, handing you a white linen top while you tried not to burn to ash under his molten gaze. Thankfully, you got you got distracted by watching him pull on burgundy pajama pants, the silky fabric doing nothing to dull the gleam of his still bare chest. 

“Is this yours,” you asked, finally pulling the white fabric over your head. It felt very piratey, and you tugged at the laces to close the wide gap over your chest, bouncing on your toes while you looked at your reflection. He wrapped himself around your back, meeting your eyes in the mirror. 

“It is. Let’s–”

“I didn’t think you owned any shirts.”

Your eyes went wide as the words left your lips, adrenaline buzzing through you at the feel of his fingers pressing into your skin. 

“I’m sorry, I–” 

“You are a brave little rabbit, aren’t you,” he whispered, kissing your temple before leading you by the hand. “Let’s get some rest. You’ve got a party to plan tomorrow.”

“Oh,” you nodded, watching him pull the blankets aside for you to climb onto the massive bed. He smirked as he joined you, his heat giving you chills when he pulled your back against his chest. His breath tickled your neck, and you melted into him as his deep hum vibrated through you. 

Each touch was gentle, almost lazy, as if those strong fingers were writing a lullaby on your skin. There was no push, just a soft pull toward relaxation, a call to join him in sleep. 

Yet whimpers fell from your lips, your body writhing against his until he let out a low chuckle, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

“Is there something you need, rabbit?”

That voice sent your eyes rolling back, the hidden promise and threat in his words adding to the need dripping between your legs. He traced his nails along your thigh, and you moaned just from the feel of him that close. 

“Mm, what’s this,” he taunted as his fingers dragged through all that slick. Your back arched, his featherlight touch over where you ached for him forcing a whine from you. “So desperate for me. And I thought you’d be too sore. Or are you that much of a cockslut, Y/N?”

He blocked your greedy hand from reaching back for him, digging those just-gentle fingers into your arm while you whined.

“Use your words,” he chided, clicking his tongue. “Does my precious little whore want to get fucked?”

Legs shaking as you whimpered, your needy “yes” was barely audible. Your next breath came in a gasp as Mihawk shifted, wrapping his arm underneath you. It curled around you until his fingers gripped your throat, forcing you back against his chest.

“I didn’t fucking hear you, slut,” he growled as he pressed his silk covered cock against your ass. “Be a good pet, and beg for what you want.”

“Please, fuck me, sir–”

Your strained plea ended with a moan, Mihawk’s free hand pushing that silk out of the way. He choked you harder when he entered you, before wrapping his free hand around your hip to attack your clit.

“Mihawk…” 

“Such a lovely whore, screaming my name so well.”

His vicious praise, his calculated thrusts, and his wicked fingers around your throat sent you into chaos, spasming in his arms. He loosened the pressure on your neck as you came down, but kept everything else going. You twitched as he played with your clit, the pleasure almost too much before he slowed all of his movements.

“I understand why you want Crocodile,” the swordsman drawled, giving you just enough pleasure to make you whimper. “I saw how quickly you gave in this morning. You enjoyed being punished.”

“Mhm,” you admitted, moaning when he rewarded you with another squeeze to your throat.

“And somehow, that fool clown makes you laugh so much that you keep putting yourself in harm's way for him. But if all you want is a floating cock, I’ve got plenty of toys you can fuck without all that risk,” he chuckled as your body tensed. Then he gave you what you needed, hitting against that perfect spot inside you over and over until you forgot everything but him.

“That’s alright, little rabbit. I intend to remain your favorite.”

“What…” you breathed out, almost lost again.

“Shh, darling, you know how well I can read you. Mm, how’s that, pet,” he checked in.

“You feel so good.”

“You know I can make you feel good. So good that your body will crave my touch, even when your other lovers make you scream.”

One more thrust, one more touch of those fingers, and you would be screaming for him again. 

Instead, you almost sobbed as he went still. 

“But you’ll have to earn it. Be a good little rabbit for me, or I might even keep the others from offering relief,” he threatened in your ear. You could feel his cock pulsing inside you, and you fought the urge to fuck yourself onto him. 

“How many hours… How many days could you take it, hm? Maybe we should test it out, just to be sure.”

“N-no, please, sir.”

“Mm, such a well-mannered pet you are. Keep begging.”

You did.

You kept begging, even as your voice struggled through his choking grasp, and through the next orgasm he ripped from you.

“My hungry, little vixen,” he purred, kicking off that burgundy silk as he rolled you onto your stomach. He forced a pillow beneath your hips before his thrusts went mean. Your fingers twisted into the sheets, the overwhelm still too delicious for you to care. His breath against your hair made your eyes roll white as he propped himself up over your back. 

“Do you want to be a good pet for me,” he teased, his own voice finally straining.

“Yes,” you whined, almost there again, your body nearly done. A small part of you heard the door open, but the rest of you shattered at Mihawk's next words, and his harsh fingers ripping into your hair.

“Then take my come, you filthy slut… Mm, such a pretty whore, milking my cock on command. Fuck...”

Mihawk’s moans were just as intoxicating as his evil words, and you became nothing but pleasure with the pain. Your toes curled as hot ropes of come filled you, but he didn’t stop. He kept fucking his come into you, grunting softly while you whimpered beneath him, drool staining your lips. 

“That’s enough.”

Your body tightened at Crocodile’s low voice, making the swordsman’s cock twitch inside you, until you were gasping and squirming again.  

“You should be proud, Crocodile,” he teased, kissing down your back as he pulled out of you. He helped you roll over, smirking while he spread you open, showing off his work that was dripping slowly through your folds. “Our numbers girl is so obedient.”

“You’re not a whore, Y/N.”

Blinking up at that scarred face, you couldn’t fight the hazy fog of confusion while your body still twitched. 

“Don’t be so pedantic,” Mihawk scoffed, kissing along your jaw. “She wanted to be our whore, didn’t you, Y/N? Go ahead and tell your daddy what a cockslut you–”

“Enough.”

The command stopped your breath, and the shift in Mihawk’s body made your blood run cold.

Fuck, please don’t fight. 

Your golden-eyed lover sat up, but kept a possessive hand on your thigh, fingers smearing his pleasure down your skin.

“If I had known you weren’t good at sharing toys–”

“Y/N has other uses. If you can’t treat her as anything but a whore, then we should–”

Mihawk stood, his nude form facing off with Crocodile at the foot of the bed while you held your breath. 

“We should what? Let the poor thing suffer all alone with her dainty fingers every night? I’m sure she'd prefer being our whore over that. And why the sudden morality, Crocodile,” Mihawk challenged, sauntering toward the wall to lean uncomfortably close to Yoru. “Did you find religion in that hungry cunt this morning?”

You sat up, clutching at the loose, linen shirt to cover your chest, ignoring the sticky mess between your thighs. Crocodile cracked his neck, pale eyes flicking toward your movement. 

“We promised that she’d be our girl, and that we’d take care of her. She’s got more talents than that, and I won’t have you treating her like some cheap whore to toss out when you’re bored.”

Even naked, Mihawk was frightening, danger like lightning under his skin, ready to strike at any moment. He let out another sharp laugh, rolling his eyes.

“It’s just a word, Crocodile, I’d never toss out our little treasure. I’m surprised at what a prude you are,” he chuckled, moving toward you, but still not far enough from his sword for your liking. “Did you like it when I called you that, Y/N? Did you enjoy getting fucked like a whore?”

A tiny, pathetic sound left your throat, and his satisfied look made you shiver before you glanced up at Crocodile's unreadable face. 

“Answer him, sweetheart,” his gravelly voice coaxed, nodding at your choked out “yes.” He turned back to the smug swordsman, taking a single step, his long legs bringing him too close.

“Y/N’s our numbers girl, our financial advisor, and she’ll need to be taken seriously if this guild is gonna make any berry. If you disrespect her in front of anyone besides me or the clown, we will have a problem.”

“There it is,” Mihawk smirked, his chin lifting even higher as he returned the larger man’s glare. “Our overgrown lizard didn’t fall in love after all. I wonder how many people you’d whore her out to if it’d net you more ber—”

Your scream felt quiet compared to the clash of hook against sword. 

The ex-warlords seethed, sword cleaving through empty air as flesh turned to sand, their venomous words lost to your ears while you struggled to move. 

You wanted to run, to hide, to beg them to stop fighting over you.

They’re not fighting over me. They’re fighting for control. 

That thought slowed your breathing, fear growing sickly sweet in your gut. Even with all the danger, you had started to feel safe, a naïve part of you had believed all their promises. 

But what if I stop being useful?

The door cracked open, panicked blue eyes watching the first slow tears fall down your frozen cheeks. Until warm fingers wiped them away. 

The noise of the fight still echoed through the room, but your mind was gone from it as two disembodied hands held you under your arms, lifting you into the air. Buggy nodded reassuringly as he floated you toward him, shouldering the door open for you to fit through. His handless arms were outstretched, waiting to catch you, but his hands almost dropped you when the door slammed shut. 

Sand had hit the door, shifting into that daunting form. Crocodile’s breathing was heavy as he scowled down at you.

“Where were you off to, little rabbit,” came Mihawk’s taunting voice, breathing against the back of your neck.

“I’m sorry," you stuttered, quivering in the air, "I wasn’t–”

“It’s my fault, I was taking her! She looked scared, that’s all, Y/N didn’t ask–”

Crocodile opened the door, dragging Buggy inside by his braid, bringing the clown within reach. 

So you reached for him. 

“Buggy…” you gave one quiet sob, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You breathed him in as he returned his hands, holding you close.

The embrace lasted longer than you thought it would, and you melted into him, until anxiety hit. Opening your eyes, you caught Crocodile watching you, touching your damp cheek with a finger while he shook his head.

“Didn’t mean to scare ya, sweetheart. I promised we’d take care of you, alright?”

You nodded over Buggy’s shoulder, his own breathing ragged as he pressed you against his chest. Your other lover came into view, standing close to his recent opponent while he trailed gentle fingers through your hair.

“Don’t fret, darling, I just like to play. You know I’ll protect what’s mine,” he promised, his head tilting when you nodded for him.

The four of you stayed like that, your heart the only thing that seemed to move. Buggy held you tight, while Mihawk and Crocodile stared down into your wide eyes. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Mihawk finally broke the spell, guiding Buggy to carry you to the bathroom, cleaning up the mess between your thighs. He didn’t even tease you, just kissed your forehead when he checked in. “Will you feel safer if the clown stays with us tonight?”

It felt like a dangerous question, but you were too tired to lie. 

“Yes.”

Buggy’s surprised hum made your eyes flutter closed, until you were set down on that huge bed. Crocodile kissed your temple while Buggy slid in on your other side, with Mihawk wrapping his arm around the clown to reach you. You were curled against Buggy’s chest, and with Crocodile wrapped around your back, you were embraced by three ex-warlords all at once. 

The blanket was replaced with a sheet, but even then, you wondered if you’d wake up on fire from the heat of all their bodies.

The giggle that escaped your lips at that thought shocked you, and brought soft noises from your three lovers. Buggy kissed your hair, Mihawk’s fingers traced a few slow circles along your side, while Crocodile’s deep voice rolled over you. 

“Feeling alright, sweet girl?”

That slowly shrinking part of your brain tried to convince you that you should be terrified. That tonight was more proof of the danger you’re in. That you should run for your life, run away from the Cross Guild at the first chance you got.

But being held like this, feeling their warmth, and melting into the intoxicating scent of all three of them made your fear fade into nothing. 

“I feel good,” you confessed, letting yourself drift into dreams, with three living anchors to guide your way.

~

“Mm, pretty…”

“Bugs,” you sighed, shifting beneath the press of heat around you. Buggy groaned as he rutted against your thigh, but you couldn’t writhe under the weight of so many arms. 

“I wonder what clowns dream of to get their dicks so hard. It has to be our little rabbit.”

Mihawk’s hand had trailed down your side, brushing against that hard length. You were wide awake now, but still trapped, Crocodile’s low chuckle sending shivers over your skin while Buggy woke with a yelp.

“Good morning! I’ll just–” Buggy choked out, body tensing as he looked back and forth between the other men. He tried to float away, but his head got yanked back, his braid caught beneath your shoulder, and Mihawk’s arm that was wrapped around him squeezed tighter until he stilled. 

“I don’t believe this clown asked for permission to rub his cock all over our little rabbit, did he?”

“No, he didn’t.”

Notes:

Lol, sorry about Buggy getting his braid caught 3 times in this chapter. I had super long hair for years (lower back to mid thigh), and used to get stuck everywhere 😅 Poor Buggy, our lil clown is trapped again

Chapter 12: Maybe a Cage Wouldn’t Be So Bad

Summary:

Buggy finds out what happens when he breaks the rules, and what his role will be. You find out what happens when you say the wrong thing.

Notes:

Got no more words left. Just look at the mess I've made 😅

“Wait—“ 

Your attempt to protect Buggy from whatever punishment they had in store for him was cut short by your own breathy moan. 

Crocodile had scooted higher up the bed, pressing his heavy cock to the back of your thighs, trapping you against Buggy and his own need. 

“Don’t worry, babygirl,” Crocodile rasped, smoothing his large hand down the side of your body. You shook against him as he pushed that linen shirt up your thigh, tracing your skin. “We won’t kill him for a first offense.”

You’d never heard someone’s gulp before, but the sound from Buggy’s throat made you reach for him. Your hand slid along his side, only to meet with Mihawk’s dangerous fingers.

“Good morning, rabbit,” he purred, keeping your fingers trapped against Buggy’s skin. “Did you feel safer sleeping with your pathetic little teddy bear last night?”

“Yes,” you confessed, tilting your head to meet those blue eyes, until Crocodile’s wandering hand made yours flutter closed. 

“Do you enjoy taking his cock off, and using it as a dildo?”

You weren’t the only one moaning at those words. Buggy’s hand tightened on your waist, with Crocodile’s creeping ever closer as his deep voice rolled through your body.

“Answer the question, sweetheart.”

“Yes, I enjoy using his cock.”

A soft whine left Buggy’s lips, but the swordsman’s grip on you both kept him from rutting against your thigh again. Mihawk propped up on an elbow to meet your gaze, an evil gleam in his eyes as he breathed against the whimpering man’s ear. 

“I didn’t think this clown could be useful for anything,” Mihawk taunted, “but it seems our little treasure has a favorite toy. Do you enjoy being used, Buggy?”

His shaft was painfully hard as he thrust against your thigh, the thin fabric of his pajamas growing damp.

“You seem busy,” Crocodile rasped toward the teasing swordsman, “so I’m gonna give my sweet girl some attention.”

“By all means. Be a good toy, and grab the lube over there.”

Buggy’s hands flew through the air, obeying instantly. He plopped the lube and a washcloth down between the pillows and headboard before reaching for you again, only to be brushed aside.

“How’s my beautiful girl,” Crocodile breathed along your neck as he rolled you onto your back.

“I’m…”

“The other night,” Mihawk drawled, gently stroking Buggy’s shivering form, “you told us that our sweet vixen has fucked your tight little ass. I’m curious, have you ever been fucked by a man?”

“Yes,” Buggy admitted softly, the tension in his shoulders relaxing.

Large fingers slid inside you, your drenched cunt giving no resistance to the sudden pleasure of Crocodile’s touch. 

“So wet… You’re gonna take daddy’s cock so well, aren’t ya, baby?”

“Fuck,” you breathed, your back arching as your mind couldn’t choose what to focus on. 

But you were drawn to those devilish golden eyes as the swordsman played with the hair that had freed itself from Buggy’s braid. Mihawk's face shifted into wicked satisfaction before his words twisted like a knife.

 “Tell me, Buggy, did you ever let Shanks fuck you?”

Buggy’s body went stiff while Crocodile added a third finger. You cried out from the stretch as you reached for Buggy’s hand.

Shanks…

Buggy only talked about his old crewmate during bad drunk nights, when anger, and what you thought was sadness would pour through him. Your curiosity about his relationship with that Emperor of the Sea was never sated, as sober Buggy refused to clarify how the “red-haired ass” had ruined his life.

“N-no! Fuck Shanks— I mean I hate him! He’s a—“

“And you except us to believe that you never fucked? Ha, even if you do hate him, I’m sure the hate sex was incredible.” Mihawk ended his rebuke by licking along Buggy's neck before nibbling on his earlobe.

Just the way he likes.

“I didn’t…” Buggy denied, his voice weak as his body loosened, giving more access to his vulnerable throat.

“Don’t worry, little clown. Shanks and I have shared toys before.”

Buggy’s frantic eyes met yours before he moaned, a predator’s teeth biting into his flesh. Crocodile brought his thumb to your clit, and writhing between all their bodies tore you from reality. You let go of Buggy’s hand to grasp his cock through the thin fabric, your fingers clenching as the swordsman’s wrapped around your own. 

Buggy was whimpering beside you, the delicious sound bringing you so close.

“Since my little rabbit enjoys your company, there might be room for you on this bed. You could be a teddy bear,” Mihawk rasped, releasing his menacing grip on your hand to force Buggy’s chin toward him, grinning at his strained face. “A silly toy. Maybe a stuffed clown?”

“Take this off.”

Crocodile’s order took too long to hit your brain, and you gasped when he removed his wet fingers, roughly tugging at Mihawk’s linen shirt until you sat up, throwing it off the bed. You fell back with a sigh, his mouth and hand claiming your breasts. 

“So pathetic, letting your lover be taken from you,” Mihawk jeered, his hand trailing down Buggy’s chest. “But you enjoyed it, didn’t you? You loved watching Y/N get fucked senseless.”

“Mhm,” Buggy hummed, voice high and desperate while he watched Crocodile shove his fingers back into you. 

“Were you jealous?”

Your eyes kept fluttering, but you caught Buggy’s confusion, and Mihawk’s gaze trained on his lips. 

“Do you want me to fuck you like the dumb, little toy you are?”

Crocodile left you then, but you hardly noticed all of his movement around you as you waited for Buggy. His back had arched, his faded red lips parting while he stared up at that frightening man. 

“Yes.”

Buggy’s quiet consent made your body twist in on itself, just in time for Crocodile to loom over you, holding the bottle of lube in your face. 

“If you want this, you’d better put it on me now, sweetheart.”

Only the slight threat in his gravelly voice pulled you out of your obsession with the conversation next to you. Mihawk snatched the bottle from your hand when you were done, and you wrapped your wet fingers around Crocodile’s overwhelming dick. Those thick, pulsing veins caught your breath, and you felt his pleased hum as you lost yourself. 

“Such an eager toy,” Mihawk purred, and you opened your eyes to find Buggy turning onto his stomach, lifting his ass into the air. Mihawk smirked at you while he yanked Buggy’s pajama pants down, before fisting lube over himself. Your mouth fell slack as he poured lube onto Buggy, tracing his fingers in little circles. 

You found Buggy’s face, already smushed into the blankets. He must have felt your gaze, those lovely blue eyes meeting yours. His brow creased, and you remembered the smile he’d given you the other night that made everything okay. 

Your smile made his eyes soften, and shivers danced over your skin when he gave you the subtlest of winks. Then his eyes rolled back, a needy moan filling the air.

“All that from just a finger,” Mihawk scoffed, clicking his tongue. “I hope our new toy doesn’t break when I fuck its hole wide open.”

“I don’t appreciate being ignored.”

You jolted, realizing your hands had gone frozen, sticky lube built up between your knuckles.

“I’m sorry—“

The glare he gave you when he dropped the washcloth onto you made your mouth dry. Even without that monstrous hook, Sir Crocodile would always be dangerous. 

“What are you,” Mihawk rasped, prepping Buggy with an added finger, and distracting you yet again. 

“Toy, I’m a toy,” Buggy whined, giving in so easily.

The washcloth was ripped from your hands, some lube still caught between your fingers when a large hand grabbed your face. The rough grip brought a yelp of surprise, until silver gray eyes burned your skin.

He guided his tip to tease around your clit, making you cry out for him.

“You tried to violate my little rabbit without our permission,” Mihawk scolded as he lined himself up. “Now you get to show me how pathetic you are.”

A wild, pained noise left your throat as Crocodile entered you, just the tip of him making your eyes roll back.

“That’s right, how fast will you come watching your pretty star getting fucked by a real lover,” Mihawk grunted, the sounds of skin hitting skin drawing your eyes even with that menacing stretch inside you. Mihawk yanked Buggy’s braid as he pounded into him, forcing your clown to look at you. His eyes were almost black as he watched Crocodile slowly tear into your dripping cunt. 

Too much, too much. 

Finally you couldn’t focus on anything but Crocodile, your breath going too fast.

“That’s what you get for not paying attention to daddy,” he chided as he forced himself further and further, little whimpers and pouts making him laugh, the sound shaking through you. 

“Please, it’s too—“

“I was being nice,” he interrupted, strong fingers digging into your hip to stop your squirming. “I thought my girl was just being sweet, that you were worried about the clown.”

Your watering eyes couldn’t resist flicking back to Buggy. The sight of his tongue hanging loose, and his fingers fisting the sheets while Mihawk slammed into him again and again made you clench around Crocodile before he was fully hilted within you. 

You saw stars when he changed that, shoving all that length, all that girth inside you at once, leaving you screaming, crying, drooling.

“That’s what I thought. My sweet girl is feeling filthy today aren’t ya,” he teased, wiping tears and spit from your face as his hips met yours, holding still for too long before fucking into you. “You ignored daddy’s cock so you could watch that stupid clown get put in his place. Isn’t that right sweetheart?”

“I’m s-sorry, daddy,” you cried, coming on his cock while he laughed, Mihawk’s laughter joining his.

Twitching and thrashing, the pain and pleasure of his body taking yours sent you into emptiness, coming back to reality as he fucked you faster. Buggy’s groans of pleasure echoed in your ear, his body being shoved closer to yours while Mihawk had his way with him. 

“Remember, I’m being nice, babygirl,” that deep voice threatened as he ripped you apart. “You wanna be a nasty little brat, I’ll treat you like one. Be good to daddy, or you won’t be able to walk for a fucking week, ya hear me?”

“Fuck, yes, daddyyyy.”

“Good. Open your mouth, baby.”

Your mouth opened before your eyes could, and the sight of Buggy’s cock floating in front of your face like a microphone was too much. Three faces stared at yours with nothing but primal satisfaction as Buggy’s hot come covered your face and neck. The taste of him on your tongue arched your back, and you screamed his name as you came. 

Crocodile flipped you mid-orgasm, his strength with one arm overwhelming you. He spanked you so fucking hard before shoving his cock back into your aching cunt. 

Mihawk’s laughs were cut short by his own noises of pleasure, but you were too busy getting your come-covered face shoved into the blankets to watch as he filled Buggy up. 

“You fucking brat,” Crocodile growled, leaning back to smack your ass again, stinging marks left behind while you cried. “Gave you what you wanted, let my dirty girl watch the show, and you couldn't even show me some fucking respect.”

“Daddy,” you mumbled through the pain, the overwhelm sending you floating.

“You’re lucky I’m not wearing my hook. You’ll just have to show me how sorry you are.”

Your weak limbs shook as he left you gaping, until rough fingers grabbed your hair, pulling you up as he sat against the headboard. He shoved your face onto his cock, smearing slick and lube across your cheek. 

“Open your dirty mouth, brat. You wanna say another man’s name while I’m fucking you, then you don’t get to talk ‘til you swallow daddy’s come like a good girl.”

His size hurt your brain, but you didn’t hesitate. Wrapping both shaky hands around his base, you pumped up and down that thick shaft while you licked his tip like a popsicle. You gave him your eyes, watching his fierce look change just slightly, the twitch of his lips filling you with filthy pride. 

That pride gave you the courage to take him into your mouth, your eyes rolling as his hard cock filled every empty space. 

“Fuck, your bratty mouth feels so good, baby. Take more for daddy, show me you're sorry.”

“Mm,” you whimpered, your eyes already tearing up as you took in as much as you could, drool spilling down to your hands. You fought the urge to freeze when his dangerous laughter poured over you, the fingers he’d left in your hair gripping tighter. 

“Breathe through your nose, brat.”

Crocodile used your throat, groaning while he shoved your face up and down his veiny cock. Your body spasmed, your hands grasping at his hip for any kind of stability as you choked on him. He pulled you off, your scalp stinging in his grip while you coughed and spluttered. 

“This is your only break. Drink daddy’s come like a good girl, and I’ll believe you’re sorry. You’re sorry, aren’t ya, doll?”

Tears fell from your nodding face, but your breathing relaxed as he leaned down to press his lips against yours. The combination of his brutal fingers in your hair with his slow, gentle kiss was too much, and he laughed when he looked down to find you dripping. 

“I’ll be nice this time,” he threatened as he licked up your neck. “I’ll let you come while you take your punishment. Would you like that?”

“Please, daddy,” you coughed, your body writhing with need as your nails dug into his hip.

“One of you, give our girl a hand. Mine’s a little busy,” he ordered, emphasizing his words by forcing your head down again. “Show me what a sweet girl you are.”

You tried to nod at his purred command, but his cock was already down your throat. He was going slower than before, letting you learn to breathe around him. Mihawk's voice was close, but your mind didn’t understand what he’d said until you felt fingers dancing over your clit, and wet kisses peppering your ass cheeks.

Crocodile’s heavy groans helped you relax your throat as he went faster, taking and taking while someone’s fingers brought you closer. 

“Lift a hand if you want the clown's tongue in your pretty ass, darling.”

Tensing with need at Mihawk’s taunting voice, you lifted a weak hand, giving a choked moan around the pulsing cock in your mouth when that familiar, delicious tongue pressed into you. 

“Such a good girl. Swallow it all, for me, sweet– mm, fuck yeah. Swallow it all for daddy.”

Once again, you lost everything. You were absolutely nothing except for the hot come pouring down your throat, and the twitching bliss that those fingers and tongue ripped from you. 

The only thing you knew was the need to swallow. 

And you did. You took everything they gave, until your body collapsed, warm hands and lips across your skin making you shiver with aftershocks. 

“What a show,” Mihawk chuckled, helping you curl up against the larger man while he sat on your other side, pressing Buggy closer to you where he rested his head on your thigh. “But I’m afraid these two had work to do today.”

A tiny whine left your throat, bringing laughs of various volumes from each of the men around you.

“I think they’ll get plenty of work done after a shower and breakfast. Unless my girl needs another lesson in listening to daddy.”

“No, I’m fine,” you lied, your voice high as Buggy dug his fingers into your leg.

“So scary,” Mihawk deadpanned, reaching for the transponder snail on the nightstand. You almost laughed when he ordered servants to bring breakfast, and mimosa’s to bed. “Come along, pets. Let’s get your pretty little fuck holes cleaned up so I can abuse them later.”

“So scary,” Crocodile teased back, laughing while you and Buggy moaned and writhed between them.

Buggy rubbed his face along your hip, a soft sigh leaving him as you looked down to meet his eyes. That playful smile warmed your chest, and you couldn’t help but grin as he pressed those faded red lips to your thigh. 

“Now, now,” Mihawk scolded lightly, leaning in to brush a kiss against your cheek. “If our pets can’t focus on work, we'll have to put you in separate cages.”

His fingers left soothing circles on your skin as weak laughter filled the air, but somehow you knew it wasn’t a joke.

But if this morning was a punishment, maybe a cage wouldn’t be so bad.

Notes:

I'm going to go pass out now 😅

Chapter 13: Not Known for my Patience

Summary:

You get to work on party planning, but your disagreement about the budget leads to some uncomfortable questions.

Notes:

I am unwell. If it wasn’t allergy season, I’d roll down a hill, and lie in the grass for a while 😅

“If you’d listened to miss Y/N before, she might still be yours,” Crocodile scoffed, shoving Buggy into a chair at a small desk by the door, leaving him close, but not too close. “This is your one chance to prove you’re not a complete idiot. Don’t fuck it up.”

“You got it, boss,” Buggy chirped, sneaking a wink in your direction while you fought a smile.

“Here you are, darling,” Mihawk interrupted, setting your notebook in front of you, along with a transponder snail. “I trust that you’ll behave on your calls today? I’d hate to have to come up with some sort of punishment if you try to–”

“She won’t try anything, huh, sweetheart?” Crocodile rasped. Goosebumps crawled over your skin as the back of that golden hook lifted your chin, drawing your eyes to his. “You’re our girl now, right?”

“I am,” you agreed, breathless as the truth left your lips. He tugged on a bit of your hair, that look of ownership sending warmth through you. 

I’m theirs. 

Humming at the thought, you laid out your notes, and went to work.

~

“This event will be expensive,” you warned, adding to the list of items needed to throw a party fit for the pompous guests you knew too well. The guest list was small, but you knew it would grow as the clients you'd called today gossiped amongst their privileged circles, and you hadn't even made it through your list yet.

“I already sent Galdino to meet with the backer you secured. That should provide more than enough funding,” Mihawk noted, looking at you over the top of his book. 

“Besides, they’re not here for caviar,” Crocodile huffed from his desk on the other side of the large room, “they’re here to pay for murder. I think that’ll be enough of a thrill for them.”

You cleared your throat, scribbling on the corner of a page.

“Do you disagree?”

How did he get here so fast?

Mihawk laughed at the little yelp you let out when Crocodile pulled the list from your shaky hands. 

“They want a show,” Buggy’s head declared as it floated between you and the larger man, his jazz hands floating beside his face. He gave a quiet huff as Crocodile used the notebook to swat him away like a fly.

“I’ll listen to your recommendations, sweetheart. Tell me why you think I’m wrong.”

Mihawk joined him in front of your desk, the two of them towering over you while Buggy started pacing. 

I wonder if I’ll ever stop being afraid of them. I wonder if that’s why I want to stay.

Shaking off the fear, and the flush to your cheeks, you straightened before answering with a steady voice.

“I’ve known most of these people for years. They want thrills, but only if they’ll be safe, and only if it’ll be good for their bank accounts in the long run. We need to convince them that they’ll gain more than they give by funding us.” You couldn’t read the emotions behind their sharp-eyed stares, but you pulled yourself through.

“We need to sell the product, and we need to be desirable. If we don’t look just as wealthy as they are, they won’t think we’re worth the air we breathe, let alone their precious berry,” you ended on a sharp note, swallowing a scowl. 

Mihawk leaned over the desk, holding your jaw while he stared at the hint of a snarl on your lips.

“My sweet, little rabbit doesn't seem to think highly of her old clients. This entire plan relies on these wealthy contacts being loyal to you, Y/N. You didn’t exaggerate their trust in you, did you?”

“No, I didn’t,” you breathed, your jaw clenching beneath his fingers. “As long as I keep being useful to them, they’ll keep pretending they care about me.” 

Ice filled the room from the pressure of your words, nausea coiling in your stomach.

“I’m good at what I do,” you coughed, Mihawk's fingers letting you pull away while you took a breath. “They’ll listen to me, but we need to put on a show.”

“Good thing you’ve got the flashiest showman around,” Buggy crowed, floating pieces of him over your desk again, shielding you from the cold stares of the other men.

“Buzz off, clown,” Crocodile snapped, resting his hook on your desk with a low, metallic thunk. “Sweet girl, do you think we’re liars?”

“Wha– n-no. I didn’t–”

“Skittish, little rabbit,” Mihawk purred, shouldering past Buggy’s now solid form to trail a finger down your cheek. “Why would you ever need to worry? You have so many uses.”

“Don’t start with that shit, swordsman,” Crocodile growled, moving beside you to trap you between them. 

“Didn’t you hear that hatred on her tongue, sandman? Aren’t you curious if our little rabbit carries that same venom for us?”

Buggy’s frantic eyes found yours around Mihawk’s side, but your golden-eyed lover returned his fingers to your jaw, pressing in.

“Do you hate us for using you, darling?”

He released your face at Crocodile’s looming threat, but his predator’s gaze still held you frozen.

A large hand across your shoulder blades relaxed you for just a moment, until that deep voice warmed your neck.

“Answer him, sweetheart.”

“Of course she doesn’t hate you, she’s–” Buggy started, going silent at the vicious glare Mihawk sent his way. 

Tension grew with every second until you found your voice again.

“I don’t hate you. I want to be here,” you laughed, a strange joy moving through you as you shook yourself. “You threatened to kill me, but I still trust you more than I trust any of those leeches.”

Lightheadedness came in a wave, your body buzzing as you looked back and forth at their frightening faces.

Fuck. Why did I say all that? Why didn’t I keep it professional?

You let out a sigh of relief as Crocodile's hand rubbed up and down your spine, and Mihawk lifted your knuckles to his lips. That gentle kiss felt overpowering, and he hummed when a soft noise left your throat.

“I think that’s enough work for today, don’t you, Crocodile?”

“Why don’t we take our dinner in the banquet hall tonight,” he suggested, tapping his hook on a blank notepad on your desk. “You can show us how to prepare it for a party of leeches.”

“Or we could just enjoy all the new tables to fuck you on,” Mihawk laughed, pulling you out of the chair to carry you. 

They bickered about who would be going first along the way, laughing at Buggy’s attempt to claim a turn.

“Go order the food,” Crocodile snorted, gesturing down the hall. “Stop being a fucking nuisance, and you might get to watch.”

You directed them to the large dining hall, giggling as Mihawk laid you across the head table. The room was already set up well, a small stage at one end, the head table stretched along a connecting wall, and round tables scattered across the floor. Once you had a more complete RSVP list, you’d be able to make a decent seating chart.

You propped yourself up on an elbow, your brow creasing a bit as you thought of which guests would need to feel extra special, and be seated the closest to your lovers. 

“I’m amazed that little mind of yours can focus on work,” Mihawk teased, tapping his fingers against your forehead. You threw your head back with a moan as he snuck a hand up your skirt. He rubbed his knuckles over your clit through your panties, already damp from the feel of his skin while he’d carried you. “When this little cunt is always so fucking hungry.”

“Dinner is served,” Buggy interrupted your moan, crashing through the doors with a rolling cart of food, the sliver-domed covers glinting under the lights. The tray slammed into a chair as he stared between your spread legs, his hands flying to catch the wine bottle and glasses just in time.

“Too bad,” Mihawk sighed as he licked the taste of you off his fingers. “I was about to have dessert first.”

Too many conflicting feelings flowed through your mind while you ate in this opulent room, drifting you away from the conversation as visions of fake smiles and expensive clothes danced through the hall. 

Gloved fingers on your knee snapped you back.

Buggy made a show of eating the last few bites off his plate, not meeting your gaze as your lips parted from his risky touch. 

What are you doing?

So far your sweet clown had done nothing but try to protect you from these men, but now his fingers were teasing up your thigh under the table. 

You wanted to let him, your mind starting to race through every possibility, every reaction.

Mihawk snatched that wayward hand from your lap before you had a chance to think, and you yelped when he slammed it on the table. 

“We decide when our girl gets to play with her toys.”

“Right, of course,” Buggy squeaked, his ears going red while Mihawk crushed his hand against the wood. “Sorry, boss, I was just feeling handsy! Ha, w-won’t happen again!”

Buggy’s tense giggle at the word handsy tore a laugh from you, and he managed to steal his hand back while Mihawk stood, his chair scraping across the floor. 

“Time for dessert,” he threatened, wicked fingers pulling you up by your hair. He dragged you away from the plates before tossing you on the edge of the table. Taking a seat between your legs, he gripped your ankles while you panted, trying to gain your bearings.

But you couldn’t gain your bearings, Crocodile’s lips crashing onto yours taking you over. He sat beside you, a satisfied noise leaving his throat at your desperate reaching for him. 

“Since you’re feeling so handsy, why don’t you pin hers down?”

Buggy hesitated for a moment, but pulled up a chair on your other side before his floating hands pressed your wrists into the wooden table above your head. Even though this was exactly where you wanted to be, being restrained and surrounded on three sides had you resisting against his hold. 

“You look so pretty like this, sweetheart,” Crocodile purred, tracing the side of his hook along your struggling arms, the barest scrape of the sharp point making you gasp.

“He’s right, such a tasty little rabbit in our trap,” Mihawk agreed, speeding your pulse as he pulled your panties down your legs. He dropped them onto Buggy’s lap, bringing a whimper from those painted lips. “Try not to come in your little pillowcase this time, and you might get to do more than hold her down.”

Buggy met your gaze, the need in his darkened eyes making your breath hitch.

He’s never looked at me like this before.

Your lovely clown, the Warlord of the Sea that had rescued you from your boring life. He'd taken you to new highs, given you more pleasure than you’d ever known. Before they came, he had looked at you like he wanted to eat you, to take you, to keep you. 

But the look on his face when he watched these other men have their way with you was something else.

He fucking loves this.

Before you could smile at the thought, a wicked tongue dragged through your folds, circling around your clit before plunging inside you. You filled the air with Mihawk’s name as he devoured you, until Crocodile’s fingers muffled your moans, making you tear up while he smirked at your stuffed mouth.

“Do you mind? I prefer a little music with my meals.”

Mihawk smeared his face along your inner thigh, and you shivered at the feel of his wet facial hair teasing your skin. Crocodile huffed a laugh, but pulled his fingers out of your mouth. He lifted the fabric of your top, tearing more of the clothes that Buggy had bought for you into shreds before playing with your breasts.

So many sounds left your throat as they teased you, Buggy’s hands gripping hard while you writhed for them.

Predators toying with their prey. 

“Please,” you begged, earning a laugh vibrating through your core as Mihawk kept going. You were already twitching before his long fingers entered you, Crocodile’s hook tracing dangerously down the side of your body.

“Fuck, Mihawk, I’m so–”

“Close,” he taunted, pulling away from you. Crocodile gave a disgruntled noise, but followed suit, taking his hand away from your chest. He left his hook though, the point resting lightly below your ribs while he looked toward the man between your legs. 

“I think we were close to something earlier,” Mihawk continued, his fingers playing along your thighs while you squirmed with need. “Close to learning more about our precious numbers girl.”

The loss of that almost release had you whimpering, but his words fell over you like a weight. 

“She’s been good, hawk-eyes. Don’t be so mean,” Crocodile smiled, brushing a bit of hair from your face.

“You know I’m going to make her scream, but my curiosity has been piqued. I just have to know,” he threatened, pressing his fingers into you. You moaned when he found that spot, but he tortured you, the touch too slow for relief. “Tell me, darling. Why do you carry such contempt for these wealthy clients of yours? You told us that your life was boring, but you snarled like a beast. Did we take in a monster instead of a sweet, little rabbit?”

He attacked you then, his free hand on your clit while his fingers brought you close again. You couldn’t answer through desperate moans, and the sobs that followed as he cut you off again.

“Please, sir. Please,” you choked out, shaking with need.

“Why do you hate them, Y/N?”

Your name on Mihawk’s lips always seemed to wake you, and you tried to calm your breathing before struggling for an answer.

“They’re terrible people,” you gasped, faltering at Crocodile’s low chuckle. “They don’t care about anything besides staying rich, and impressing the same circle of vapid families with how much berry they can waste on stupid, pretentious bullshit. They’re so fucking obsessed with status, they’d throw someone to the wolves just for the slim chance of their inbred blood marrying into the Celestial Dragons.”

Your body had forgotten its need, seething as the words raged through you. These were thoughts you fought to ignore, useless, meaningless thoughts that could do nothing but piss you off.

Buggy released one of your wrists, cradling your cheek as his thumb gently stroked back and forth. You looked away from the confusion and concern in his eyes, embarrassment filling you like bile. 

As if he felt your shift, Mihawk lowered your legs, coming to sit on the table beside Crocodile, and you clamped your eyes shut against the force of their stares.

“I’m sorry–”

“Don’t be,” Crocodile rasped, rubbing his hand along your arm. “I’m glad my sweet girl has some fire in her.”

“I agree,” the swordsman interrupted as he laid his still-wet fingers on your side, “but this seems personal. Why do you hate them so much, pet. Tell the truth.”

“I just… I’ve been surrounded by these people for years. They trust me with their money, and their money comes with secrets. I see what they do with all the wealth I help them grow, and I see what they don’t do. But even with all that berry, and all that selfishness, they are still so fucking boring.”

A wicked laugh left your throat, and you found yourself smiling as you looked into three sets of eyes. You melted for them, letting the heat of your need for them pour from you.

“But you promised that I wouldn’t be bored with you,” your voice came out in a purr, and you relished as all three faces filled with hunger when you writhed for them. 

Mihawk jutted forward to pinch your pouting lip, something new and dangerous flashing in his eyes.

“Are you trying to manipulate us,” he dared, tilting his head as he scanned your face. “Did you already forget who owns you?”

“No,” you gasped, lifting your neck as he tugged your lip further.

“Mihawk, back–”

“Can you believe what a dirty slut your sweet girl is,” he taunted, his free hand tracing up your thigh while you held your breath. “She just tried to use her body to distract us. You really loved being called a whore, didn’t you?”

You fell back when he released your lip, moaning as he yanked your hips toward the edge of the table. Your legs dangled off the side, and you tried to slide off to stand until he ordered Buggy to pin your wrists down again. 

Buggy’s brows creased as he hesitated for a moment, a small line of worry etched into his face paint. Yet he obeyed, leaving you to glance up at Crocodile, imploring him for forgiveness that you weren’t sure you wanted. Your eyes fluttered closed when he leaned down, kissing your temple.

“It’s true, isn’t it,” he asked, his husky voice overwhelming you. The point of his hook ghosted across your chest, forcing you to slow your breathing. “I promised all you gotta do is tell me what you want, and I’ll take care of you, but you still don’t believe me? Manipulation is real fuckin' close to lying, brat.”

“P-please, I–”

“You’d better watch your fucking mouth,” he threatened, his hook pressing into the side of your neck. “You’re gonna take what we give you, and then you’re gonna tell us the truth. Don’t make me show you what I do to liars, girl.”

Nodding stretched your throat against that sharp point, so you whispered your compliance. He withdrew the threat as Mihawk’s evil laughter moved closer. 

“I’m not so forgiving,” the other man smirked as he lifted your legs over his shoulders. You barely had time to meet his golden eyes before he shoved his cock into you, laughing through your screams.

“Using your body against me,” Mihawk scoffed as he grabbed at your chest, pinching one of your nipples while he pounded into you. “I’ll show you what it means to be used, rabbit. You get to be a real whore tonight.”

The acoustics in the banquet hall were incredible, your screams of pleasure flying through the room as you came on his brutal cock.

“What a spoiled little cunt. I wonder how many rounds you can take? Would you still like a turn, clown?”

Buggy coughed, looking up from the sight of your pussy taking all that abuse.

“Wha–”

“Did you ever call her a slut? Did you ever fuck her like the desperate whore she is right now?”

“No, I…” 

“Mihawk–” Crocodile leaned in, pressing his hand down on your chest. The swordsman never stopped fucking you, and you had to fight to pay attention.

“She earned this, sandman, and I think we should give our toy a treat. He’s been so good at holding her down, and keeping his mouth shut while I ruin his pretty star’s pretty little cunt. Let me play. I know you’re enjoying it.”

“… Fine. Only because she deserves this punishment. You hear that, brat,” he rasped, grabbing your face to watch you wither under his silver glare. “You try something like this again, and I’ll let twisted hawkeye pick your punishment.”

He pushed away just as another orgasm was ripped from you, your body clenching around Mihawk’s while he dug his nails into your hips.

“Hardly a punishment. You’re nothing but a slutty little hole, aren’t you,” he jeered, rolling into you until your eyes rolled back. “Alright clown, if you still want to stick your dick into this comeslut, you need to follow my instructions. Do you still want to fuck her?”

Buggy looked down at you with wide eyes, and you couldn’t tell if he’d noticed your nod of consent as Mihawk slammed into you, but either way, he whispered, “yes.”

“Good toy,” Mihawk praised, his breath heavy as his thrusts started to stagger. “As soon as I’m done, you’re going to fuck my come into her. You’re going to call her a whore, and you’re going to fuck her like one. Can you do that?”

“Yes,” Buggy rasped, squeezing your wrists twice before taking his hands back to undress. Crocodile caught both of your hands in his. His eyebrow lifted just a tad, and you closed your eyes, knowing a smile would be on your lips if you weren’t making so many ungodly noises. 

Your safe word crossed your mind. All of your lovers knew it. 

But you weren’t even close to needing it. 

I’m such a slut.

You almost laughed to yourself, until you felt Mihawk start to twitch inside you.

“Look at my happy little whore. Just wait, darling. You’ll be crying soon enough,” he laughed before groaning, shoving his cock so fucking deep while he filled you. The heat of him made your eyes roll back, and you weren’t ready when they switched. 

Buggy’s needy moan arched your back. The feel of him sinking into your messy cunt after everything that had happened felt insane, electric. You met his gaze, his blown out eyes hardly human as he followed Mihawk’s lead, fucking into you like an animal. 

“Tell her what she is, toy,” Mihawk ordered softly, smirking at you over Buggy’s shoulder. 

“You’re…” Buggy started, his head tilting back as his breath sped through him. 

“You’d better not come before you tell her what a slut she is. And you’d better act like you mean it.”

Your sweet clown looked frantic as Mihawk’s dangerous fingers danced over his shoulders.

“You’re such a slut,” Buggy tried again, his soft voice making you moan. His bottom lip scraped through his teeth while he watched you react to him, and you cried out his name as he fucked you harder.

“You like this, don’t you,” he asked, voice gaining confidence with each word, with each thrust until you were screaming. “You like being a flashy little whore, huh? Like making me watch your pussy get fucking wrecked everyday?”

“Fuck, yes, Buggy, please.”

“Gods, Y/N, you feel so fucking good baby–…”

“She’s not good, she’s a dirty fucking hole to fill,” Mihawk growled, gripping Buggy’s hair while he whimpered. “Tell her what she is, and you can come inside her right now.”

“F-fuck, you’re a dirty slut. You filthy fucking whore. Fuck, I’m–”

That twitching, throbbing cock filled you and filled you, it felt like it just kept going. Just a few more of those desperate, overstimulated thrusts of his would have sent you over the edge again. You hadn’t even noticed when Mihawk took over pinning your wrists before Buggy was pulled away, and large, ringed fingers played in the mess he’d left.

Crocodile’s eyes burned into you as he scooped come out of your used cunt, rubbing it along his shaft before pressing the tip of him to your entrance. You squirmed away, stopping your movement too late.

“Get her on the floor, clown. I don’t wanna break the table giving this brat what she deserves.”

Your limbs were loose as the other man got you to the ground, spreading your legs for Crocodile as he lined himself up, grabbing your hip to hold you in place.

“This is nothing, sweetheart,” he threatened, bullying his massive cock into you, the other men’s come being forced out to make room. A satisfied hum vibrated through him at your pathetic little whimpers. “You need to know how fucking serious I am.”

“Okay,” you breathed, eyes stinging with tears as he shoved himself all the way in.

“If I ever find out you lied to me,” he growled, filling you again and again as he started thrusting, “you’re not gonna like the punishment you get. I don’t care how sweet, how pretty, or how fucking useful you are, you’re gonna be hurting. Do you understand me?”

“Y-yes,” you whined, the pain almost tipping to pleasure before he got mean, fucking you into the floor. 

“Yes, what, brat?”

“Daddy, yes da–”

“Fuck,” he moaned, drowned out by your screams. 

Crocodile didn’t stop, fucking you as your body shook, fucking you until your tongue hung loose, the hint of drool at the corner of your lips. 

“I’m gonna fill this bratty little pussy up, then you’re gonna be a good girl and tell the truth, because we can do this all night. Are you gonna be a good girl, or are we gonna have to keep taking turns ‘til your pretty little cunt starts crying?”

“I’ll be good, daddy. So good–”

“Mm, just like that. Fuck, you take my come so well…”

He filled you impossibly full, come spilling down the sides of his cock onto your already sticky thighs. Then he left you empty, but not cold, sliding down your body to press soft kisses to your neck and shoulder. 

“You really are smitten, aren’t you, Croc?”

Mihawk’s taunt sent tension through the larger man’s body, and you held your breath while those silver gray eyes poured over your features. 

“We’ve got a good girl here,” he countered, brushing hair from your face. “As long as she’s not a liar.”

“Yes, yes,” the swordsman tutted, “let’s get our girl cleaned up so she can tell us all about that hatred in her heart.”

The afterglow dwindled quickly at those words, but soon Mihawk was wrapping you in a tablecloth, lifting you into his arms. He hummed again when you let your head rest against his shoulder, tilting his face to leave a kiss on the top of your head. That little touch brought all your relaxation back, even from the frightening man that held you. 

Buggy snuck a quick kiss to your cheek while everyone got a turn under the hot water, and sleepiness hit you hard as Mihawk wrapped a towel around you. You’d watched him shave while the shower warmed up, and now you stood on the fluffy bath mat, swaying while you stared at him in the large mirror. Crocodile had left, and Buggy hovered near the door, but you were caught on the swordsman.

“What’s that?”

You stepped closer, but pulled your hand back before picking up the dark glass bottle he’d tilted into his palm. Those unreadable golden eyes flicked to you while he dragged his fingers over his jaw, spreading that incredible smelling liquid through his facial hair.

“You tell me, bloodhound,” he smirked, holding his palm in front of your face. 

“Fuck, that smells so good.”

“Of course it does,” he chuckled, “what do you think is in–”

“Play your sniffing game tomorrow,” Crocodile grumbled through the door. “If our girl doesn't tell us the truth, we're gonna have a second round, and I’d like to get some sleep tonight.”

“Better not make daddy angry,” Mihawk warned in a hushed voice, nibbling on your ear before pushing you toward the door. “Better not make me angry either, rabbit. You know I can read you like a book.”

Shivering, you moved past Buggy’s wide eyes, glad to have him there. Mihawk guided you to sit against the headboard while the three of them sat around the edges of the bed, surrounding you again.

Silence strangled you, and you were about to crawl out of your skin until they all started speaking at once. The others conceded, leaving Mihawk to lean forward, touching your ankle as he spoke. 

“Tell us the real reason why you hate your wealthy clients, hate wealthy people in general? There’s something personal, and we need to know before you invite a whole slew of them to our lovely home. Can’t have you poisoning all the people who might give us berry now, can we?”

“I’m sure I’m not the only person who thinks rich people are trash,” you laughed awkwardly, yelping as his long fingers dug into your skin. “I'm s-sorry, it's just a joke…”

“Answer the question,” Crocodile ordered. His voice was empty, leaving your mind to fill in the terrifying blanks of what he had in store for you if you failed him. 

“Okay, I’m sorry,” you sighed, covering your face with your hands while you tried to pull your thoughts together. You opened your eyes to catch Buggy’s soft, worried smile, and you knew his hands would be comforting you right now if he thought they’d allow it. 

“I grew up with money, alright,” you spilled out, sounding more annoyed than you’d meant to.

Dead silence was finally killed by Mihawk’s derisive laughter.

“No wonder she’s such a brat, Crocodile. We’ve got a spoiled, little rich girl on our hands.”

“Shut up!”

Clamping your hands over your mouth too late, your eyes darted between all of their shocked faces. Buggy’s head had lifted a couple of inches off his neck, as if the force of his eyebrows raising had pulled it into the air. You bit your lip hard to keep from releasing panicked laughter. Crocodile moved closer, mirroring Mihawk with his hand on your leg.

“Tell us why you’re angry,” he soothed, rubbing his thumb along your skin. “But you need to stop making us dig for it, sweetheart. I’m not known for my patience.”

Blinking away stupid tears before they could fall, you nodded, letting your head fall back against the headboard before trying to speak. When the words finally came, it was like an echo through an empty room, your eyes almost unfocused as you told the boring tale.

“Family was rich. I grew up in those circles with all the parties, and galas, and expectations. I didn’t like it then either. But my dad died…”

Emotion swelled through the emptiness, and you had to swallow it down to steady your voice again. One of Buggy’s hands flew to yours, and no one stopped you from holding it.

“We stopped being rich. All those friends and neighbors stopped seeing us as real people. Even the parts of my family that are still rich treated us… They wanted us to beg for their help. To roll over, and let them– Fuck!”

They were all frozen through your frustrated yell. Buggy’s hand floated anxiously at your side after you’d dropped it to throw your hands into the air, digging your nails into your palms as anger rocked you. 

Why am I doing this? I’m such a fucking idiot . 

Your scolding thoughts couldn’t stop the wave of rage as it pushed through you.

“I don’t want to talk about this. I don’t want to talk about them. How badly are you gonna hurt me tonight if I don’t tell you anything else? Why don't I save you some time, because I will take a lot of punishment if we can just fucking drop it.”

The ringing in your ears seemed to last for hours until your labored breathing started to calm. Blue, gold, and silver eyes pierced through your body like vicious jewelry, clinging to your skin as you tried to disappear. You went unfocused again, staring vaguely toward the crown moulding as you awaited whatever pain they might inflict.

Almost at once, the three of them crawled forward, and you held your breath as they settled around you, their warm hands smoothing over your body. Mihawk and Crocodile brought their lips to your skin, Mihawk’s trailing down your neck while you twitched and whined. Crocodile kissed your temple before breathing along your ear.

“We promised to take care of you, Y/N. Want us to take care of somebody for you?”

“Hm,” you asked, a headache forming from the onslaught of emotions. 

“You’re ours, little rabbit. If you'd like someone to die, all you have to do is point the way.”

“Just tell me who, sweetheart. Daddy’ll gut them for you.”

Notes:

I honestly thought we'd never get to the reader's back story what with all the fuckin' 😅

Chapter 14: Pretty Little Pieces

Summary:

Party plans are coming along, and your hard work is rewarded, but it seems like secrets keep on growing.

Notes:

I am so jealous of our numbers girl 😭

So many hands and lips on your skin, yet all you could feel were the weight of those words.

“You would… ”

“I’ll cut them down for you,” Mihawk whispered, rubbing his face along your neck and ear until your back arched for him. “We’re the only ones that get to make my little rabbit cry. What are their names?”

Crocodile let out a low hum as he settled closer to you, kissing across your shoulder while Buggy smoothed his hands over your legs.

“I don’t…” you choked out, closing your eyes against the dizziness that spun through you. 

“Come here, sweetheart,” Crocodile soothed as he pulled you against him. “Let’s get some sleep. You can write up your kill list in the morning.”

A dream. This is all some crazy dream.

A soft whimper left you as the hot tears staining your cheeks were caught just in time, and you knew it was Buggy’s fingers wiping them away. You sputtered, breathing too fast as you tried to gulp down air, to swallow the overwhelm. Mihawk touched your cheek before letting Buggy join his hands, sliding his body between yours.

“Hey, pretty star,” he soothed, stroking your hair while you clung to him. “I’ve got you.”

~

“How’s my girl?”

Dreams of stormy seas pulled away as that deep voice warmed the back of your neck. 

“Good,” you hummed, Crocodile’s body pressing in behind you. Opening your eyes, you saw Buggy still asleep, having rolled away from you onto his back. Mihawk’s amber eyes shined at you, and your lips parted to see him curled around the clown, resting his head against the other man’s chest while he stared at you. 

“Good. It’s been ages since I had a decent hunting trip. None of your enemies happen to be swordsmen, do they?”

Buggy tensed awake, his body frozen like he was playing dead, while you just gaped at Mihawk. Their offer came rushing back into your stormy mind, and you had no idea what to do with it. 

I can’t.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

All the bodies on the mattress went still.

“You trust us, don’t you,” Crocodile rasped, his voice somehow toeing a line between soothing and threatening. “You can tell us what you want.”

“I told you what I want,” you mumbled, breath catching in fear yet again. Buggy’s hand found your arm, and his warning grip on you was the only movement on the massive bed.

What am I doing?

“Why don’t we get some breakfast,” Mihawk offered lightly. “I prefer discussing murder after my espresso anyway.”

~

There was such a strange tension while you prepared for the day, while Mihawk carried you to the balcony, while they all stared at you over their plates. Chewing the inside of your lip as you tried to eat, you felt their gaze like a weight over your shoulders.

You realized why the tension felt so strange. It felt like the air in a room after a couple’s spat. 

I’m not afraid they’ll hurt me. I’m afraid they’re mad. 

“I’m sorry,” you spilled out, eyes wide as you looked between them all. “I trust you, I’m just not ready to talk about my past right now. Especially if you want me to focus on the party. I don’t want to be distracted.”

You’d expected Buggy to react the best to your apology, but he kept a hint of worry, maybe even hurt in his eyes as he smiled. 

“Alright, sweetheart,” Crocodile nodded, lifting your chin toward him. “But I like secrets just about as much as I like lies. We can wait until after the party, but my patience won’t last forever.”

Mihawk chuckled softly as ice slid down to your gut, and it was only his prodding that got you to eat a decent amount of your meal before you were carried to your desk, your notebook and transponder snail pushed toward you. 

I hate this. I fucking hate this.

Falling into work mode, you schmoozed with your contacts as if you’d never left your old life. That itchy feeling crawled up your spine during every moment of silence, your loud, guilty thoughts only dulled by your work.

It was a long day.

You gratefully accepted a glass of velvety wine as you sat on the couch, Buggy across from you on that green chair. He had a pad of paper on his knee, twirling a pencil in his fingers with a silly amount of flair. He looked so fucking cute like this, his brow creased in thought while he looked up at the ceiling, quirking his lips before jotting down notes. Crocodile and Mihawk had very reluctantly put him in charge of the entertainment, and he was taking it quite seriously.

“We have a full list of attendees, and most will be arriving with a plus one. Here’s the details for the three backers I confirmed today, their donations will more than pay for the event,” you reported, pride pushing away some of that tension. “They will expect VIP treatment, of course, but that–”

“Amazing work, sweetheart,” Crocodile praised as he lit a cigar, puffing it a few times while you smiled up at him. 

“You really are a treasure, aren’t you,” Mihawk purred, flipping through your notes. “I’m curious though, what does this, ‘U,’ mean?”

He set your list of contacts in your lap, flipping through a few pages to point out the clients you’d marked with that letter.

“All of your other descriptors are highly detailed, and not a single contact with that letter was invited to the party. Surely we should expand our list of potential backers as much as possible.”

“Let me see,” Crocodile huffed, grabbing your notes to toss on the coffee table. He leaned over them, flipping through the pages before pushing them aside. You let out a yelp of surprise when he grabbed you, but didn’t resist when he sat you on the table to face them both. 

“You just told us the invite list was full, yet you didn’t call any of these people with the letter, ‘U,’ next to their names. Explain.”

His scarred face was like a force of nature, like looking into a sandstorm that you knew would swallow you whole. 

“It means un-unreliable,” you gasped, feeling the heat of their scrutiny against your skin. Your next words were hurried, but steadier. “I can call them if you want me to, and I would have if we hadn’t confirmed so many guests. But they talk too much, and they run in circles that could cause issues for the guild. A lot of them have connections to the Marines. I should have explained, I’m sorry.”

It’s not a lie. It’s not a lie. It’s not a lie.

“Why are you so afraid, little rabbit?” That whispered taunt made you shiver as Mihawk took your wine glass, before lifting one of your hands to his lips. “Did you just remember who we are? Only a few days of spoiling you, and you already forgot that you answer to us now, not some failed party clown.”

Crocodile leaned toward you, his hand on your thigh while he studied your face. 

“That idiot didn’t listen to your work, but I expect full reports from now on. You’ll tell us everything you’re doing and why you’re doing it, you got that?”

“Yes, sir,” you nodded, gratitude flooding you. 

“Good girl,” Mihawk teased, pulling you back onto the couch. “I would hate to punish you over a misunderstanding. That’s all it was, right?”

“Yeah,” you chirped, catching Buggy’s wide eyes. He looked away quickly, staring at his notes, but his cute thinking process was gone, the pencil not meeting the paper again. 

Thank gods for wine.

A few bottles amongst the group left the awkwardness behind, until nothing but their skin on yours remained. No need to hide on that bed, no need to be anything but theirs. 

That thought tugged you out for just a moment, but you smiled as you gave yourself to these three bad men, yet again.

I chose to be theirs.

~

The tension of that day faded, replaced by that comforting, delicious danger you were always in. They carried you from room to room for the next few days until a shipment arrived. Trunks were carted into the suite after dinner, and Buggy’s floating hands started to open them while you sat nude on the bed. 

“Get your grubby hands off her clothes,” Crocodile ordered lazily, pointing to the trunk on the right. “Bring that one here.”

It was hard to keep your eyes open while Mihawk kissed the back of your neck, long fingers leaving circles on your thighs, until Crocodile leaned down to kiss your cheek.

“Open this one.”

His deep voice was so soft, and you hummed as you reached for the clasp, lifting the heavy lid.

What the fuck?

“Well,” he asked, tapping the contents with his hook. “Do you like them, or should I send for something else?”

“N-no, I love them,” you squealed, grabbing a book from the pile, and running your fingers over the dragon on the cover. You flipped the pages, that lovely scent making you shiver. “Fantasy books…”

You laughed to yourself as you remembered that dinner on the balcony when he’d asked you what you like. Crawling onto his lap, you kissed up his neck while he let out a low chuckle. 

“Thank you, daddy.”

“Mm, anything for my sweet girl.”

“Yes, bring it to the door,” Mihawk ordered into the transponder snail, pulling your attention for a moment, which the scarred man pulled back when he fisted his hand into your hair, sucking marks onto your neck. 

The movements and voices in the room didn’t distract you this time, until a very particular sound rang through the air. 

A meow.

“Really,” Crocodile asked dryly when you left his arms, searching for that sound. 

Mihawk stood by the door, a smug smile tugging at his lips before he met your eyes.

“Would you like to hold him, darling?”

“Why…”

“You like cats, don’t you?”

Your brain paused, the cognitive dissonance these men kept putting you through making it hard to think. 

But another meow from the little brown tabby in Mihawk’s arms shook you loose, and soon you were sitting on the plush carpet, laughing while Buggy floated a gloved hand around like a toy for the cat to chase. 

“Look at all of our pets on the floor,” Mihawk laughed, setting a hand on Crocodile’s shoulder, removing it at the larger man’s narrowed eyes. “Come now, you’re not a fan of animals?”

“I prefer scales to fur,” he grumbled, meeting your smile with a sigh. “And I was hoping not to have to share Y/N’s attention with anymore men.”

You giggled, the furry man in question already bumping his head along your legs, and climbing onto your lap. 

“Does he have a name,” you asked, grinning as your new cat tried to crawl up to your shoulders, rubbing his face along your chin. 

“Not that I’m aware of. He was a stray.”

The image of Mihawk hunting the island for stray cats was too much, so you put it out of your mind while you searched for a name. 

“Adam.”

All three men repeated you, each with a hilariously different tone.

“That’s the least flashiest name ever,” Buggy pouted, scratching behind Adam’s ears. 

“Surprisingly, I agree,” Mihawk chided, tilting his head like a hawk about to fly down to steal the poor cat from your hands. “Why–”

“Why Adam?”

Crocodile’s interruption made everyone but Adam go silent, too much weight in the simple question. Heat rushed to your face, and you blinked up into his serious eyes. 

“It’s from a story my dad used to tell me,” you confessed, closing your eyes as you smiled at the memory of his voice. “About a magic tree that survived endless wars. People kept coming back after the island was destroyed, and they’d rebuild around that invincible tree, the—”

“The Jewel Tree Adam,” Buggy asked, his blue eyes shining as he scooted closer. “It’s not just a story. I sailed on a boat made from a Jewel Tree.”

“Shut up,” you laughed, stealing a kiss from those red lips before anyone could stop you. 

“That wood’s been sold on the black market. It’s rare, but it’s real,” Crocodile asserted. Once again, your mind stopped functioning, Adam bringing you back again, this time with his paw reaching toward your face. 

“So it is a flashy name,” you teased, sticking your tongue out at Buggy.

“Barely,” he rolled his eyes as Mihawk sighed in defeat. 

You helped Buggy arrange Adam’s things in the suite, until Mihawk pulled the cat away from you. 

“Don’t worry, darling. I had my old suite set up for our furry friend. He’ll be across the hall in his own little castle while we rip you apart. I’m sure you wouldn’t want the poor thing to see what we’re about to do to you.”

“You set up…” 

“I’ll show you the cat paradise tomorrow,” he huffed a laugh, petting Adam as he lounged comfortably in his arms. “Now be a good little rabbit for me, and I’ll try to convince Sir Crocodile to let the cat sleep in here when we’re done.”

“Not happening,” Crocodile drawled, hanging up his robe before sitting on the edge of the bed, patting his knee. “Why don't you finish thanking me, since we were so rudely interrupted earlier?”

His satisfied smile made your skin flush as you moved toward him, and you saw his cock twitching beneath his boxers, growing as he watched your bare skin. It made your mouth fall open with need, and with caution that you didn’t think would ever go away. 

“Mm, is my sweet girl still scared of her daddy,” he taunted, palming himself through the thin fabric. 

“But what about...” you started, turning around as Mihawk returned to the room. “I didn't try on any of the clothes.”

“It’s too late for that now,” Mihawk laughed, walking toward you until you backed up against Crocodile, those large thighs surrounding you. “It looks like your daddy wants to check how well you fit something else, isn’t that right?”

“I know she’ll fit just fine. Huh, babydoll,” he pulled you to him, moaning softly at your desperate noises, and your instinctive writhing when your ass rubbed against his hard length. “Did you like daddy’s present?”

“Mhm.”

“Not as much as she li–”

“Why don’t you go sleep in your little cat paradise,” Crocodile cut Mihawk off, his shifting attention keeping you from relaxing into him. 

“I’ve got another pussy in mind for tonight,” the swordsman quipped, and you gasped as a floating hand grabbed yours, tugging you out of reach. 

Buggy wrapped himself around you from behind, so you were caught in his warmth as you both looked at the frightening men in front of you.

“When you fight, she wants me.”

Buggy’s words made you feel too many things at once. They felt sweet, and sad, and territorial, and you didn’t know how to react.

“Is that true, little rabbit,” Mihawk asked, danger growing in his voice. “Do you want the clown?”

Oh, that sounds like a punishment waiting to happen. 

But I can’t lie.

“I do.”

Buggy’s soft noise made you melt against him, until you pressed against that heavy need of his, both of you reacting to the touch.

“Do you see this, Crocodile,” Mihawk gestured toward you with a wicked smirk. “It seems she didn’t like either of our gifts. Would you rather have what this clown can give you?”

You’d started to shake just a bit, not knowing which direction you should turn. Mihawk’s words always seemed to twist you where he wanted you anyway. 

Crocodile took pity on you, clearing up the question. 

“Sweetheart, would it make you happy to fuck that stupid clown?”

Buggy let out another squeak, but he pulled away from you slightly, so you wouldn’t feel how much he needed you. 

“It would make me happy.”

As if he couldn’t help it, Buggy pressed against you again, making you gasp as he rubbed his clothed cock along the meat of your ass, pretty little noises leaving his throat. 

Mihawk charged toward you, and you couldn’t help but notice the hard weight of his cock through his silk pajama pants. He gave an evil little smirk as he looked down at you, grabbing your cheeks to tilt your face.

“Such a spoiled little rabbit. We give you so many things, so many gifts, but that’s not enough, is it? My precious little slut needs another toy. Needs another cock, even when she’s all stuffed up. What do you think, Crocodile? Does she deserve another gift tonight?”

“Maybe my sweet girl hasn’t realized she’s grown out of her old toys.”

Mihawk’s laugh was sharp, too pleased, and your breath caught when he kissed you, and then Buggy on the cheek. 

“Good point, sandman. Alright, little treasure, we showered you with gifts tonight, and now you get to play with your old favorite toy. Let’s see if it’s still as much fun to play with after we’ve been spoiling you so much.”

You were frozen when Mihawk gestured toward the bed, but Buggy picked you up, floating you to the center of the mattress before crawling up your body, caging you in. 

“This okay, star,” he whispered, barely audible. It woke you up, and you nodded with a smile before he kissed you.

“Just a moment, pets,” Mihawk called, bringing your eyes to him. He and Crocodile pulled the couch all the way up to the bed, staring with hungry eyes that made you shiver. “We want to see if your old toy is still worth playing with. Croc, what do you think her minimum is with us?”

“Four. Minimum,” he said, voice rough as he pulled his boxers off, his massive dick like a looming threat. 

“That sounds about right,” Mihawk agreed as he followed suit, stripping before lounging on the couch, his thick cock drawing your eyes as it twitched slightly. “Let’s see if this toy can pull four orgasms out of our little whore, since she wants to keep it so badly.”

“What if he can’t,” Crocodile asked, his voice full of more dangerous humor than he usually had with Mihawk’s games. 

“There are so many pretty holes on that bed,” Mihawk threatened, his eyes raking over your skin, and Buggy’s as the clown stripped. “If she’s wrong about him after going against our wishes, I think we should break her, and her stupid toy.”

“You hear that, sweet girl,” Crocodile rasped, fingers moving lightly down his shaft, then pressing upward until you noticed that lovely bead of precum start to spill down the side. “Daddy keeps telling you to get over that pathetic clown, but you don’t fucking listen. This is your one chance to prove he’s worth it. If he can’t fuck you properly, then I’m gonna ruin you. Daddy’s cock is gonna tear you into pretty little pieces. You got that?”

“Yes, daddy,” you whined, back arching while Mihawk laughed at you. 

“Should we roll dice to see which hole gets destroyed first,” he smirked, seeming absolutely giddy watching you writhe. His hungry eyes flicked to Buggy as the clown crawled back to you, holding himself above your body. “I suppose it’s show time isn’t it. Go on, clown. Make my little rabbit scream, unless you want to be a useless toy for the rest of your life.”

The insults still made you cringe, but Buggy smiled at you, that gorgeous, blue hair falling down around you like a curtain. 

“Will you be my flashy girl,” he rasped, eyes flicking from your lips to your eyes. “Will you put on a real good show for me?”

“Yes, captain,” you breathed, moaning as he swallowed your smile with a needy kiss. 

“She’ll get that paint all over her,” Crocodile grumbled, but that was the last you heard from them as Buggy left trails of kisses and soft bites down your body, leaving your skin tingling while you laughed.

A gloved hand teased around your face, fingers pressing between your lips until you bit the fabric. He kissed your knees, grinning as you pulled his glove off with your teeth, like you had so many times before. He mirrored you with his other hand, tossing them off the side of the bed like a strip tease. 

Your breath caught when he positioned himself between your legs, so very close to where you needed him. 

“Want me to do that thing you like,” he asked, the heat and confidence in his words making your head tilt back before you could answer.

“Please, Bugs, I need you… ”

“Of course you do,” he agreed, tracing his face down your inner thigh until his breath teased your core. “No one can make you feel how I can, huh, baby?”

Dangerous words. 

Dangerous truth.

“No one, Buggy, please.”

“I’ve got you, gorgeous,” he purred as his hands pulled yours above your head, leaving one hand to trap yours there while the other caressed your body, toying with your chest. “Sing for your captain.”

Sloppy kisses to your clit made you squirm for him, whining as he sucked and teased, until you begged for more.

“Sorry, I couldn’t hear ya down here. Whatcha need, dollface?”

“Gods, your tongue, your nose, Buggy, please.”

“Mm, your pretty pussy missed me that much?”

He chuckled as you whined for him, then tilted his face down to rub that perfect nose over and around your sensitive clit. Part of you heard voices, maybe laughter from the couch, but you were too busy pouting, still begging for more. 

“Your nose feels so good, baby. Give me more, please,” you pleaded as you shifted your hips, fighting for more friction. 

“Since you asked so nicely,” he winked, shoving his face into your dripping cunt while you cried out his name. 

It always felt like he was designed for this, that round nose giving the perfect pressure as he tasted you. You could feel him rutting against the mattress, his needy movements adding to the rhythm. 

That floating hand massaging your chest focused in, and the teasing pinch to your nipple was enough to push you over the edge. He kept that rhythm and pressure to your clit while you came, and you laughed when he yelled “one,” before returning to his work.

“Do you want me deep?”

His eyes were dark, and heavy with need as he checked in. The sight of his drenched, messy face made you moan, taking a few breaths before you could answer.

“I want you so bad, Buggy, please. You make me feel so good,” you praised, gasping as that teasing hand wrapped fingers around your throat, warning, but not squeezing yet. 

“Want me–”

“Choke me, Buggy, fucking take m–”

So many sensations at once. That lovely hand around your neck pressing tight, his face diving into your core as his nose circled your clit again, and his tongue going deep. 

He licked and tasted you, like he was licking his plate clean, but that wicked tongue went further. 

It had freaked you out a bit when he first tried it on you, but there was nothing in the world that could compare to Buggy’s tongue sinking all the way into you, that thick muscle tasting parts of you that no one could touch. It circled around inside you on its own until he found that sweet, spongy spot.

His tongue fucked into that spot, and tears streamed from your eyes while you screamed his name through his choking grasp. He didn’t let up as you rode through that orgasm, just released your throat to raise two fingers toward the couch. 

“Gods, oh fuck, Buggy. It’s too mu–”

His hand clamped over your mouth, and he lifted just enough to shake his head, his tongue too busy for him to reply. He released your face, that hand teasing along your body while he kept up his attack, until he pressed his palm against your lower stomach.

The pressure of his tongue ramming against you from the inside meeting his hand felt like being hit by a fucking train. Your hands almost broke free as you spasmed, the sheer force of pleasure turning you into nothing but twitching, desperate flesh while you came on Buggy’s face.

Your vision came back slowly, sweet hands smoothing over your skin. The feel of his tongue sliding out of you to return to its rightful place arched your back, aftershocks rolling through you. 

“Three,” Buggy bragged, leaving kisses on your arm. You hummed, hardly able to open your eyes.

“Ah, but the goal was four,” Mihawk taunted, his voice tensing through Buggy’s body beside you, “and it doesn’t look like Miss Y/N is able to finish the show. What do you think, Crocodile?”

“She knows what’s gonna happen to her,” he growled, and you rolled your head to the side to watch those frightening gray eyes. He looked at you like you were the last bit of food on a desert island, and his hand fisting over himself made your eyes roll back. 

“The show must go on,” Buggy laughed nervously, his well earned confidence already floating away. 

You reached out to him, your arms shaking until he crawled up your body. You returned his little smile, goosebumps rolling over your skin at the feel of him with you, and all he’d done. 

“Fuck me,” you whispered, voice hoarse from him. He looked you over, eyes pouring over your features, until he gave you another smile, wide and wicked. 

“Anything for my star.”

He wasted no time, his thick cock pushing into you easily with all the work he’d done. He let out little whimpers, and you clenched around him, wanting him so fucking bad. But he shook himself, rolling his hips into you as he brought a thumb to dance along your clit. 

“You like putting on a show,” he asked, his voice a bit strained as he fought himself. “I knew you were a star, and you’ve got the audience wrapped around your little finger, huh? Look at how hard their cocks are just for you. Give them a show, baby.”

Buggy’s breathing went rough as he fucked into you harder. He grabbed your cheeks, your lips pressing out as he made you look at them. 

Oh fuck.

Crocodile and Mihawk both had their cocks in their hands, jerking themselves off at the sight of you.

“Buggy, I’m–”

“Fuck, Y/N, you’re so fucking perfect…”

He held you close as you fell to pieces together. His racing heart, his ragged breaths, and the scent of his skin felt delicious. Even with the twitching of his cock as he spilled his come into you, even with the orgasm that rocked through you, the overwhelming feeling you had in Buggy’s arms was comfort.

“You feeling good, gorgeous,” he asked softly, kissing along your jaw.

“So good,” you hummed, gasping as he twitched inside you, your body clenching around his. 

“Well done, toys,” Mihawk praised as the weight on the bed shifted. “Now, open wide.”

“You looked so pretty for daddy,” Crocodile praised while Mihawk pulled Buggy off of you. “Be a good girl, and tell me where you want it.”

He bit his lower lip while you stared at his veiny cock, so fucking close. 

“My face. Come on my face, daddy, please.”

“Fuck, gods damn,” he groaned with a breathless laugh. “You are such a good girl. Mm, lick the tip for me sweet– fuck.”

You could already feel his come dripping down your skin when you reached out to taste him, his last shuddering moan making him thrust lightly against your mouth. 

“Look at you,” he purred, tracing his thumb over your lips after you licked them clean. 

“Our pets have been very well behaved today,” Mihawk praised, moving close beside the larger man before gesturing toward Buggy’s come-covered face. You let out a giggle, then tried to apologize when he met your eyes. 

“Not the matching face paint I was thinking of, but I’ll take it,” he interrupted with a wink, earning very subtle, but real chuckles from the other men on the bed. 

Crocodile pulled you against his chest, and you realized that in this moment you felt comfort with all three of these bad men. You grinned to yourself at the thought of what home meant to you while you watched Mihawk play with the come that had spilled down to Buggy’s chest. 

“Let’s get cleaned up, pets,” he said brightly, managing to crawl gracefully out of the bed. “We can’t have Adam curling up on these sticky sheets.”

“No cats on the bed,” Crocodile ordered, frowning at your pouting lip. “Don’t you start.”

“Sorry, daddy,” you laughed as you rolled away from him. 

Buggy grabbed your hand, and you laughed your way to the bathroom, leaving the other men to argue about the new furry roommate. Buggy tossed you a washcloth, and you both wiped what you could of those men off of your skin before he started the shower. He pulled you in to press you against the far wall. 

“There’s something I didn’t get to tell you before…” he whispered, tilting his nose away so he could be closer to your face while the water drowned out his words. “Can I tell you now, pretty star?”

His deep blue eyes seemed deeper than you’d ever seen, and your breath caught in your throat. 

Why am I tense? 

“Okay,” you managed to whisper, waiting to breathe properly again. 

He nodded a few times as he looked down, before cradling your face, rubbing his thumbs against your cheeks. 

“I know things are– well you know how it is, but…” he trailed off, scanning your face as if watching every movement. 

“Buggy…”

“I love you, Y/N,” he confessed, his brows lifting high as his breathing seemed heavy, heavier as he waited for you to reply. He stared at your parted lips until more words hurried out of him. “I loved you before, and I still love you now. You’re my pretty star, no matter what, right?”

The worry in his voice broke you out of your stupor, and you wrapped your arms around him. 

“Buggy, I–”

He pulled you under the water, the heat making you gasp as the door to the bathroom opened.

“Here you are, pets. Sir Crocodile’s list of expectations if Adam is to stay with us.”

Mihawk dropped a pad of paper onto the counter, cocking his head at you both while Crocodile followed close behind. 

“Why haven’t you started on that hair? It’s late enough as it is,” Mihawk tutted, and you couldn’t keep your mouth from falling open as you watched Mihawk take Buggy’s long hair into his hands. Buggy’s eyes fluttered shut at the swordsman’s touch, but his words kept ringing in your ears, even as Crocodile smiled at you, hunching down to rinse his hair. 

Adam wasn’t allowed in tonight, so it was just the four of you climbing onto that giant bed, four of you pressed in so close. You and Buggy curled in against each other’s chests, with Crocodile around your back, and Mihawk curling around Buggy to lay his long fingers somewhere along your side. 

Tonight Mihawk’s fingers teased along your ribs, his thumb almost tickling as it played down your stomach. Crocodile kissed the back of your head, and your comforting sleeping arrangement was complete. 

Something about the way Buggy held you felt different. 

Is it different? Or did I just not notice it before?

His breathing was slow, and the way he stroked your hair and pressed his lips to your forehead in a gentle kiss should have been comforting. 

You should have fallen asleep by now. 

Instead, you laid there as the three men around you fell asleep. You laid there in the most comfortable, most comforting position you’d ever been in. 

But you couldn’t fall asleep. 

Notes:

BUGGYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!! 😭🤡

Chapter 15: Play Nice

Summary:

Your frightening lovers want to spoil you for a job well done, but something else might get spoiled in the process.

Notes:

This was why I paused. Numbers Game is my life now. The air I breathe. I've got to stop daydreaming chapters at work, I am unwell 🥴

Flashbacks from reader's past are bracketed between these symbols: ~🌲🌲🌲~

Guilt crawled into your chest as warm bodies held you close. Your legs were tangled with Buggy’s, and his gentle snoring pulled at the corner of your lips, an almost smile. 

I thought I was… I felt it before…

All the guilt you'd held for the first few days after Crocodile and Mihawk came poured back into you. The frustration you'd had with Buggy felt sour on your tongue, along with the sick feeling of betrayal you’d carried before he’d shown you it was all okay. 

Now it was over a week since he'd given you that smile of acceptance, and the two of you were caught in the whirlwind of these powerful men. 

You nuzzled against Buggy’s chest, remembering how many times he’d put himself at risk for you, protected you, even after all the mistakes he’d made. Even after watching you fall apart for them. Warmth filled you, rolling that guilt away as you sighed against him.

The guilt had rolled away, but ice formed in its place at the thought of the other men on the bed. 

Buggy…

~

“Wake up darling, you have some outfits to try on.”

Mihawk had crawled over you, leaving tingling kisses on your neck until you squirmed awake, nipping at your ear before dragging you to the edge of the bed. 

“I like the dress,” Crocodile prompted after they’d all watched you twirl a few times in different styles of frighteningly expensive clothes. 

“Yes, yes,” Mihawk brushed him off, tracing his fingers over the loose top he’d helped you button up, tucking it strategically into your perfectly tailored pants while he looked you over. “You clearly have an old fashioned taste.”

“What’s that supposed to mean–”

“How about the red one,” Buggy cut in, circling the room with a bright red top in his floating hands.

“I’m hungry,” you announced before the other men could respond. 

“You look lovely,” Mihawk bragged, pulling you toward him to lay a kiss on the inside of your wrist. The heat in his eyes caught your breath before he guided you toward a pile of shoes. 

“This feels weird,” you laughed from the doorway. They stood in the hall, waiting for you to walk toward them like parents waiting for their toddler’s first step. “Can you look away or something, you’re making me nervous.”

The looks on their faces made you choke on another laugh before finally stepping out to walk on your own. There was no longer a need to carry you since very nice shoes protected your feet, yet they both reached out for your hand. They narrowed their eyes at each other again until you squealed, running past them while Buggy cheered you on. 

“I’m hungry!”

No punishments awaited you as breakfast came with soft smiles and pretty words, before party planning took center stage again. 

~🌲🌲🌲~

“What kind of teenager hates parties, and loves homework,” Kat whined, messing with your hair while you studied. “Don’t you already have like two hundred percent in that class?”

“That’s not how that works,” you teased, closing your textbook to hold against your chest. “And I love parties. Just not these parties.”

“Come on, big sis! Get ready with me,” she implored, her puppy dog eyes way too effective. 

“Fine,” you gave in with a laugh, setting your homework aside. “Just promise you’ll come save me if Mrs. Cargill corners me again.”

“Promise,” she giggled, pulling you toward the vanity. 

~🌲🌲🌲~

You knew what your contacts would expect at an event like this, but you were more than happy to hand off your recommendations so that staff could handle the rest of the party details.

That left you free to dive into the numbers. It was impossible to make projections for this “product,” but you did your best. 

Numbers felt familiar, relaxing, but it seemed you had another talent that Crocodile drew from you.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he praised, gesturing to your notes. “You already gave us dirt on most of them when you made the list. I can’t imagine that every investment banker knows so much about their client’s sordid affairs?”

“You’d be surprised,” you said lightly, staring at a few names in front of you. “But I think I can add more details to a few of these.”

“Good girl,” he hummed, leaning down to kiss your cheek. “Show me how to ruin these rich idiots. Just in case we need to, of course.”

~

You all had a working dinner in the banquet hall as staff scurried around, but sitting between Crocodile and Mihawk at that familiar head table made your skin hot. 

“Mm, what a needy rabbit. Are you remembering how much you enjoyed being dessert? I’m sure we can arrange another–”

“Mihawk,” Crocodile hissed, silver eyes flicking down to the long fingers that were teasing over your thighs. “Behave. The staff don’t get to have a show.”

“Please, I doubt there’s anyone in a five mile radius that isn’t keenly aware of how we all enjoy our downtime,” Mihawk scoffed, removing his hand from your lap to take a sip of wine. He glanced at your burning face, trailing a finger against your cheek with a satisfied smile. “You’re ours. Isn’t that right, pet?”

“Yes,” you breathed, grinning at the sight of Buggy’s head floating around from Mihawk’s other side. 

“And what am I, chopped liver,” he joked, setting his chin on a hand he’d floated in front of your plate, pouting at Mihawk.  

“That’s exactly what you are,” Crocodile huffed a laugh, a pleased grin lighting up Buggy’s face at the sound. “Hurry it up, aren’t you supposed to lead rehearsals or something?”

Buggy hesitated for a moment, eyes flicking to you before he reconnected with his body. Mihawk chuckled, swirling his wine glass. 

“Our little clown is just worried he’ll miss out on dessert.”

Buggy gave you a little wink as he left the hall, and it seemed like you’d never get another moment alone with him.   

Seems like I’ll never get a moment alone with myself either. 

No regrets accompanied that thought while Mihawk insisted on carrying you back to the suite after your “hard day at work.” You melted against him, the scent of his skin making you shiver. Everything about him was still so overwhelming, and he hummed through the hallway as if he could feel your anticipation. 

“Mm, my little treasure,” he rasped, unbuttoning your shirt while you swayed on the soft carpet. 

Crocodile had already vetoed a visit from Adam, but you couldn’t complain when he knelt behind you, carefully helping you out of your top while he kissed along your spine. 

“Can’t believe we found ourselves such a gorgeous, and brilliant, little sweetheart,” he praised between kisses while Mihawk helped you out of the rest of your clothes. “Such a good girl for us, aren’t you, Y/N?”

“Mhm,” you whined, nearly falling until Mihawk steadied you with an arm around your waist, pulling your chin with his other hand to snare you with those golden eyes. 

“It’s true,” he breathed, the heat in his words stopping your breath as his gaze trailed over your skin, your lips, your wide, frantic eyes. “We wouldn’t be this close to achieving our goals so soon if you weren’t such a talented, and hard working, little rabbit. I was afraid to spoil you too much, but maybe… Maybe you deserve it. Do you think you deserve to be spoiled?”

He whispered the last words into your ear, and it was too much. He caught you around the waist as your knees went weak, a low, dangerous chuckle vibrating through his chest at the sound of your desperate moan. 

Your whole body was already tingling when he laid you on the bed, your eyes rolling as they surrounded you, warm hands on your sensitive skin.

“You’ll get every little thing you want. Daddy’s good girl can have it all. You believe me, sweetheart?”

“Yes, daddy,” you moaned, your voice high and needy as their hands and lips showered your body with sensations. Slick flowed down your thighs, your core still untouched, yet the pleasure of their attention brought you so close. You thought a single breath might tip the scale. 

“Whose fingers would you like first, darling?”

“Don’t test her when she’s getting spoiled,” Crocodile chided as you let out a weak sob. His hand trailed up your slippery thigh, mirroring Mihawk’s as he teased closer. 

“Of course,” he purred, reaching his fingers to entwine with the larger man’s, pressing both of their hands against your skin while you held your breath. The violence you prepared for didn’t arrive, just a satisfied noise from the swordsman as their fingers stayed tangled along your wet thigh. “Why don’t we spoil her together?”

Crocodile let out his own pleased hum as Mihawk guided his hand to your entrance. 

“Such a pretty pussy,” your scarred lover praised, making you twitch with need as both of their fingers dragged through your folds, teasing around your clit. 

“Pleasepleaseplease.”

“Our poor little rabbit is begging when she’s supposed to be getting spoiled. We–”

“You talk too much, swordsman.”

Mihawk laughed while you cried out, Crocodile pulling him along until they both shoved fingers into your drenched, aching cunt. Mihawk brought his free hand to tease his thumb around your clit, and you were gone. 

You couldn’t tell how many fingers they were forcing into you, but the fact that it was both of them at once had you falling apart, wordless screams filling the air. They showered you with praise you couldn’t comprehend, low, satisfied laughter rolling over you while they kept fucking their fingers into you. 

After an eternity, your breathing and vision returned to see Mihawk tilt his head toward the other man. You felt for the first time that his words weren’t meant to tease you. That you weren’t his target. 

“How would you like to spoil her?”

“Why don’t you prove you can play nice for once,” Crocodile rasped, fingers still playing as the heat in his voice arched your back. “Take care of our girl.”

“I’m not one to take orders,” Mihawk drawled, removing those dangerous fingers to trail wetness down your thigh, “but I suppose some cooperation wouldn’t hurt.”

The larger man let out a deep laugh at that, leaning down to kiss your trembling lips before taking his hand away. 

“Don’t worry, babydoll. Just keep making all those pretty faces for me. Show me what a sweet girl you are.”

“Please— fuck…“

Mihawk wielded his tongue as if it were another sword, strong, precise, and overpowering strokes through your needy cunt, his smug laughter tearing through you. Crocodile swallowed your moans, a soft, deep kiss making you whimper beneath them. 

Your weak hands reached for anything, until Crocodile guided them to the swordsman’s dark hair. Watching his hawk eyes roll back when you tugged on those strands tightened that pressure in your core. Affecting this untouchable man was intoxicating.

“Pull harder, sweetheart,” Crocodile commanded, and you didn’t hesitate. A hungry moan vibrated through your core as Mihawk feasted on your flesh. 

“You’re making it difficult to play nice, Crocodile,” he accused, taking a moment to breathe and glare.

“The world’s greatest swordsman backing down from a challenge,” he scoffed, smoothing that large hand down your side. 

Mihawk only responded with a dangerous laugh, sliding two long fingers inside you as his tongue found your clit. 

Crocodile replaced his hand with his hook, trailing cold metal across your skin. Mihawk curled his wicked fingers up, teasing that perfect spot just as the sharp tip of the hook scraped down your torso. 

Throat already hoarse from wordless screams, you shook with pleasure, with overwhelm. 

How is this real?

The two of them surrounded you again, kissing, touching, praising, driving you mad. You never wanted it to stop. 

“What happened to playing nice,” Mihawk teased, featherlight fingers testing the red line down your body.

“That was your challenge, not mine,” the other man rasped, grabbing one of your thighs to spread your legs. “Think you can fuck my sweet girl without being mean for once?”

The swordsman crawled up your body, eyeing you with the satisfaction of a hunter admiring his catch.

“You love it when I’m mean, don’t you, rabbit?”

“Yes, sir,” you managed, taking pride in the flash of pleasure in those golden eyes. He let you taste yourself on his tongue, kissing you with that same perfect control he’d brought you to bliss with. 

Then he claimed you, his thick cock filling you to the hilt while he smiled against your whimpering lips. 

“My little darling,” he purred, watching your face as he started rolling into you. “I will–”

“Scratch his back, sweetheart.”

Crocodile’s smoky voice charged through you, and your nails found Mihawk’s flesh before he could finish his sentence. Instead of words, a low moan moved through him, and just a hint of hesitation in his rhythm. 

“What are you–”

“Harder.”

You obeyed Crocodile without a thought, digging your nails in as you tore them down the swordsman’s back. 

“Gods– fuck,” Mihawk cursed with a heavy groan, shoving into you so hard you let go, crying out his name. Your breath caught in your throat at the ferocity in his eyes. 

“What’s your game, sandman,” he growled, managing to keep his rolling pace despite the barely contained violence vibrating through his body. “Have we made a bet I’m not aware of? Should I negotiate my terms? Or do you just want to watch me rip her apart?”

Unable to play dead any longer, you let out a needy gasp before risking everything by putting your nails to his back again. Crocodile’s deep laughter was like honey, trapping you in the sweet danger of Mihawk’s pleasure and rage. 

Those golden eyes rolled back again, before he clenched his jaw, forcing rough breaths through gritted teeth. 

“Thought you wanted nice,” Mihawk threatened, your body flooding with fear. Fear like fire and ice in your veins that pushed you over the edge. He seethed, pinning your hands while you came on his cock.

“Our little angel was being nice, swordsman,” Crocodile laughed, sliding up the bed to meet Mihawk’s eyes while he fucked you through your orgasm. “I figured with how twisted you are, you might enjoy someone returning favor. Am I wrong?”

Only your insane need to hear this conversation stopped you from going dumb as Mihawk kept going, staying in control. Yet, you swore you felt him pulsing inside you at Crocodile’s words. 

“How thoughtful,” Mihawk deadpanned, though he couldn’t hide his heavy breaths, his darkened eyes. He looked down at you, huffing a laugh at your needy face. “Hear that, little rabbit? Your daddy wants to hurt me.”

Your eyes rolled back at the thought, both men laughing until Mihawk stopped being nice.

"You asked for this, whore," he snarled, pushing both of your thighs toward you, folding you in half with a manic grin on his face. Finally, he fucked all that rage into your aching cunt, the brutal pace tearing screams from you. 

“Play nice.”

Panic. Pure terror crashed over you like a wave at the sight of Crocodile’s hook at Mihawk’s throat, his fingers ripping into the back of the swordsman’s hair to pull his neck taut. 

Terror turned to wicked chaos as Mihawk’s fingers bruised into your thighs while he let out a filthy, delicious moan. He bucked into you while he stared up at Crocodile’s stern face. His cock twitched as he filled you, so much come spilling out as he spasmed, as you milked him of every last drop. Once again, your reckless body fell apart. Danger wrapped around you like another lover to hold you down while they fucked every last shred of self preservation out of you.

You forced your heavy lidded eyes open, still moaning from aftershocks, but the sight you saw sent cold fear through your veins again, pleasure freezing with your breath.

The thin trail of blood sliding down the column of Mihawk’s throat was the only thing that moved. You couldn’t read their faces as their eyes burned into each other, and Crocodile kept his hand and his hook where they were. 

“Honey, I’m hooome,” Buggy sang, slamming the door behind him. His mouth fell slack, but he didn’t hesitate as they started to pull away. He sent his legs flying toward each of their faces while he shoved his arms under your body, tearing you away.

Gasping at the abrupt loss of Mihawk inside you, you wrapped your arms around Buggy’s neck, surprised when no one else grabbed you. 

“Fuck fuck fuck,” Buggy cursed under his breath, your nude body shaking in his grasp as he shot toward the door. 

Once again, a wave of sand blocked your path, starting to form into a large body in front of you. Buggy turned, heading toward the bathroom until Mihawk stepped in the way. He looked even more terrifying than usual, his eyes flashing with what looked like pleasure as that line of blood flowed down to grace his collarbone.

“Give her to me,” Mihawk ordered, his voice uncomfortably light as he stared Buggy down. 

“N-no,” Buggy refused as he spun around, searching for a way out that didn’t exist. 

“Put her down,” Crocodile ordered. Sand spun through the air, trapping you all in a tight circle. 

“I won’t let you hurt her,” Buggy snarled, his gloved fingers digging into you as you cried out his name. The swirling sand faded away, until all you could hear were the ragged breaths from yours and Buggy’s lips. 

“Why don’t you pets get cleaned up,” Mihawk soothed, tilting his head at Crocodile. “Daddy and I can talk things out. What do you think, sandman?”

“Fine. But let me see my girl first.”

“I won’t–”

“Please, Buggy,” you breathed, looking up to meet his frantic eyes. He swallowed before nodding, then gingerly placed you into Crocodile’s arms.

“That was my fault,” he sighed, and you knew you should have been concerned at how quickly you melted under his gaze. “I didn’t mean to scare you sweetheart, I’m sorry.”

Nodding, you already felt relaxed in his arms. 

“I know you’ll take care of me, daddy.”

You wished you could say that a thousand times to see that frightening face, touched with a quiet, pleased shock. His steely eyes softened, and you would have been happy to stay there, to fall asleep while he watched you. He leaned down, your tired body sinking into him as he kissed you. Gentle, yet tasting. Like you were his to enjoy.

“May I,” Mihawk asked, with no bite to his voice. The larger man let him take you in his arms, and the swordsman studied your face before pressing a kiss to your temple. He walked you toward the bathroom, whispering in your ear after he stepped through the door. “I can apologize if you like, rabbit, but you know there was no reason to be afraid. You knew there was something much more fun brewing, didn’t you?”

He smirked at your hesitation, but when his lips met yours, all that need flooded through you again, your skin hot against his. He gave a satisfied hum at your little whimpers, then placed you back into Buggy’s arms, his body reconnected again. 

Mihawk pinched you both on the cheek, looking at you like naughty school children. 

“Behave, little pets,” he taunted, tapping his ear before leaving you alone. 

“Bug—”

Buggy pressed a finger to your lips before setting you down in the shower, stripping comically fast before joining you. He turned the water on, and then his hands were on you, his worried eyes raking over your skin. 

“I’m okay, Bugs,” you whispered as you pulled him close. “Thank you for saving me.”

“I didn’t save you,” he admitted, acid burning in his voice. “I’m fucking useless. I’m sorry, Y/N. I–”

“Shut up,” you hissed, grabbing his cheeks the way he always does to you. The look of shock in those beautiful eyes would have made you laugh if you weren’t on limited time. “You saved me from that moment, and you keep saving me. I hope you don’t need to, but… thank you, Buggy.”

Tiny movements on that painted face could have been missed if you hadn’t been through so much with him. 

“Anything for my star,” he gave in, that sweet, slow smile making it all the way to his eyes. 

You could have basked in that moment forever, but a sound from the other room reminded you that time was short. So you put your hands on his chest, and grinned up at your silly clown. 

“There’s something I didn’t get to tell you before.”

“Really,” Buggy asked, eyes brightening before he tried to school his features. “I hope it’s something flashy.”

“Of course it is,” you whispered, fighting the urge to talk yourself out of it again. 

“I love you too, Buggy.”

There was nothing but the spill of hot water beside you, and the look of soft wonder on Buggy’s face. 

You were about to break the silence when he pulled you into him, and the soft noise he let out filled you with a feeling you didn't know how to name. All you knew was that it was good, and it sent tingling chills across your skin in the steamy room. Dragging Buggy under the water to trade giddy whispers of “I love you,” cleansed you of more grime than soap ever could. 

“I hope you haven’t used up all the hot water,” Mihawk warned as he strode into the room. Crocodile followed behind, setting his hook on the counter before they took over the shower.

Buggy wrapped you in a soft towel before starting on his hair, but you couldn’t keep your eyes off of those frightening men. They shared their own hushed words as the water fell, and you wished you could have been in two places at once, aching to know what had happened in the other room. The obsession they’d created in you made you want to hear their every word. 

“I’m sorry,” you quavered behind Mihawk as he ran that lovely oil through his beard. He raised an eyebrow at you until you gestured to his back. Shaking his head with a laugh, he turned to glance over his shoulder at the mirror, admiring the marks on his skin before coming toward you. 

“Don’t be sorry, darling,” he purred, running his thumb across your lower lip. “Just make sure you're ready to play next time. It turns out that overgrown lizard is more intelligent than he looks.”

“Excuse me?” Crocodile turned around, almost out the door. 

“Just a joke,” Mihawk hummed, walking up to the taller man to place a hand on his arm. “Let’s get some sleep, and you can call me names in the morning.”

Crocodile narrowed his eyes, but gave in with a sigh before you were all crawling into bed again. He grumbled his “no,” about the cat, and hushed Mihawk who’d started whispering cat smuggling plans. Buggy pulled you close, until you were caught in the beat of his heart as you curled against his chest. 

Love. 

That thought had kept you awake the night before, but tonight it sent you into soft dreams full of warm hands and deep laughter, no stormy seas in sight.

~

“Mm, pretty girl,” Crocodile praised while you twirled in the purple dress he’d chosen. You knew it was stupid to get comfortable in this violent world, but you couldn’t help it. They were spoiling you, and it was working so fucking well. 

It’s not the things. It’s them .

That thought would have felt like an excuse if you hadn’t known it in your bones to be true. These three bad men had taken you over, and there was no place you’d rather be than on that giant bed, or this green, velvet couch. 

Buggy left after dinner again, nonstop rehearsals taking over his time, leaving you snug between your other lovers, and a bottle of wine. Mihawk sent goosebumps over your skin as he talked you through more ways to describe all the scents and flavors you could feel in each sip. 

“Excuse me, Sir Crocodile?”

Mohji’s voice called through the door, stepping in quickly at Crocodile’s gruff, “come in.”

The beast tamer's eyes caught on you for a moment, and you had a moment of wondering what he thought. Of what Buggy’s old crew thought of you. 

But they had all happily left Buggy in the dirt to go along with the new regime, and you smiled when you realized you didn’t care what any of them thought. At least you didn’t care right now, and you’d try to keep it that way. 

I’m happy, and their opinions don't matter.

“Yes, sir, we have a guest. He said he was expected?”

“Yes, thank you,” Mihawk cut in, standing up to shoo him out of the room. “Send him in.”

“You knew about this guest,” Crocodile bristled, stamping out his cigar before standing, and helping you off the couch. He led you toward the door, his large hand warming your back through the thin fabric of your dress. “Why didn’t you share with the class?”

“Apologies, I wasn’t sure if he’d show up. I didn’t want to cause a fuss with all the party arrangements going on.”

“Who–”

“Thanks, I’ve got it,” came a deep voice before the door opened wide, revealing a red haired man that looked more relaxed than anyone you’d ever seen. He had a thick cloak over his shoulders, although his loose shirt was open, and he wore sandals that left traces of sand across the floor. 

He broke out into a disarming smile when he saw Mihawk, and you noticed three scars across his eye. 

“Look at you, ol’ Hawk Eyes,” he beamed, cocking his head at the swordsman. “Got a drink for an old friend?”

“One track mind, as always,” Mihawk drawled. Boredom had taken over his voice again, but a hint of that sharp, teasing edge remained. “Let me introduce you. I believe you’ve met my associate, Sir Crocodile in passing, or at the very least have heard of each other’s… escapades.”

Crocodile nodded, but didn’t take the offered hand, leaving his to tense against your back. The red haired man didn’t look bothered at all, and your mind was trying to put pieces together before he poured his attention onto you. You didn’t hear Mihawk introduce you as this man took your hand, stepping close.

“Pleasure to meet you, miss Y/N,” he rasped, winking as he leaned down to kiss your knuckles. He rubbed his thumb across your hand, a little smirk forming on his face when he noticed your lips part for him. He didn’t release you before meeting Mihawk's eyes again.

“I knew you were up to something, Hawk Eyes, but I didn't expect to find you with such a gorgeous, little bunny. I thought you were more focused on business than pleasure lately.”

“Come now, Shanks. Who says we can’t have both?”

Notes:

😈😈

Chapter 16: Anything for a Friend

Summary:

Red Haired Shanks comes to visit with an interesting request, and you learn a bit more about your lover's past.

Notes:

Sorry this one's extra long (9686 words), I hoped you'd prefer longer with smut vs less long with no smut, lol. I hope you enjoy it!

!!! SPOILER WARNING !!! This chapter, and the following chapters will contain a spoiler for the end of the Wano arc. This spoiler occurs in the anime before the Cross Guild is formed, but I realized that some readers aren't caught up with the show yet, and are just enjoying Cross Guild fics for the "vibes" 🥵😅

I apologize if this means you'll have to wait to continue. I detest spoilers, so it didn't occur to me until I was editing that there might be people reading Numbers Game that haven't made it to the Cross Guild yet.

I'm not sure if you'll care about this spoiler or not, but you have been warned!

Shanks and Mihawk shared pleased laughter while your mind reeled, shocked to be face to face with another terrifying pirate, this Emperor of the Sea. 

This cheerful, flirtatious man that was bringing his eyes back to you, still holding your fingers in his hand. 

Cold metal pulled at your wrist, a golden hook chilling your blood as it passed between you and the red haired pirate, breaking your contact with him. 

“Miss Y/N isn’t his ‘bunny,” Crocodile warned, his hand tensing against your back before he led you to the couch. You sat in your usual spot, with his arm draped around your shoulders. Shanks stared at the two of you, then caught eyes with the swordsman before cracking up. 

“Don’t be sour, Crocodile,” Mihawk coaxed through smug, fading laughter, “I’m sure our little rabbit wouldn’t mind a new nickname.”

“She’s got plenty,” he growled, pulling you in against the warmth of his body. “I won’t have you loaning out my sweet girl to every lowlife that comes to visit.”

Shanks grabbed a heavy, velvet chair, dragging it close before lounging across from you. His eyes gleamed while he grinned at you, and Crocodile’s body was stiff beside yours while you were still too dazed to speak. Mihawk took his seat, chuckling when you jolted at the touch of his hand on your thigh.

“We can talk business,” he soothed, looking over your head at the larger man, “but it seems cruel to deny our little vixen a treat. You’re already dripping with excitement, aren’t you, darling?”

A tiny sound left your throat, your eyes wide as Shanks tilted his head, looking down at your tensed thighs before meeting your gaze.

“It’s alright, darlin’,” he purred, that deep voice doing too much to you. “I don’t like to scare my bunnies as much as ol’ Hawk Eyes over there. I bet he’s real mean, isn’t–”

“That's enough,” Crocodile warned. He wrapped his arm around your side now, practically squishing you against him, bringing another small noise from your lips.

“Why don’t we ask Y/N what she would like,” Mihawk taunted, leaning down to pour his vicious words into your ear. “I know your body is just aching for another owner, isn’t it? Would you like his sweet tongue to taste you? Want to give us a pretty show while another man has his way with you on the table?”

Your body was quivering, and you were almost grateful when Shanks cut in, until his words shook you more.

“Mihawk, it’d be a shame to have my first time with such a beauty in front of an audience. Surely Miss Y/N would prefer some privacy.”

“Not happening,” Crocodile spat, and you couldn’t believe how calm Shanks seemed when he gave a little shrug, imploring the larger man. 

“I’m just shy, Crocodile. I’ll take good–”

“You are the furthest thing from shy,” Mihawk laughed, his fingers digging into your thigh as he leaned toward the red haired man. “You just enjoy making your toys fall in love with you before you break them.”

For the first time since he’d sauntered into the room, Shanks was frightening. It was so fast, so subtle, but something dangerous flashed in those deep, brown eyes when he looked at you. A wicked purr filled his voice as he spoke to Mihawk, his eyes never leaving your face.

“Hush now, old friend. Don’t scare the little bunny away before we’ve even gotten acquainted.”

“Fuck this,” Crocodile scoffed, kissing the top of your head. “We’re leaving. You two can enjoy your–”

“Just a moment,” Mihawk prodded, dancing his fingers along Crocodile’s wrist. “It’s Y/N’s decision. Tell me, little rabbit, would you like to enjoy some alone time with this delightful, old friend of mine?”

Shanks’ eyes gleamed at you until you clenched yours shut, nails digging into your palms to stop yourself from moaning “yes,” fighting to remember why you shouldn’t.

“No, thank you,” you croaked, trembling as you wrapped your arm around Crocodile’s waist, burying your head against his silk vest. He gave a surprised hum, smoothing his hand along your side. You kept your eyes closed, but could feel the stares from the other men crawling up your skin. 

“Good girl,” Crocodile praised softly, the vibration of his voice letting you sigh with relief. 

“Oh, I don’t think our little treasure is being good for you, Crocodile,” Mihawk taunted, patting your thigh a few times before playing with the hem of your dress. “I think she’s valuing the clown more than her own desires again. I thought we fucked that out of you, darling. We even let you keep him in our bed, our little toy. Yet you’re still going to deny yourself–”

“Buggy’s your…” Shanks interrupted, sitting up a little straighter. “You didn’t tell me he–”

“Shanks, please. After how you went on about him, and how Miss Y/N can't seem to let him go, you can’t blame me for being curious,” Mihawk sighed, taking a large swig of wine. “Even if he is a clown.”

You coughed, trying to pull away from Crocodile, but his arm held you in place. Shanks started to speak, but turned to watch as steely words rolled over you.

“Is it true, sweetheart,” Crocodile questioned, leaving your mouth dry. “Don’t lie to me, Y/N. You really want this stranger to fuck you right now, don't you? But you’re pretending to be a good girl because you don’t wanna hurt the clown’s feelings?”

Blinking away tears of overwhelm before they could stain your cheeks, you caught the soft smile of the red haired pirate across from you. There was no lying to Crocodile. The thought of what he might do if he ever caught you in an outright lie made you shiver.

“It’s true.”

“What a sweet, little bunny,” Shanks hummed, leaning over the table to grab your chin with a gentle touch. The red haired man just looked at you, his eyes too soft for a stranger’s. Before Crocodile’s anger could boil over, the large door creaked open, and you watched a painted smile go taut.

“Shanks?”

“Buggy, old friend,” he beamed, looking over his shoulder to see your clown slamming the door shut. “Just who I was hoping to see.”

Buggy moved forward, his eyes flaring at Shanks’ hand on your chin. That hand pulled away as the pirate stood, holding his arm out wide, but the gesture went ignored.

“Friends? In what fucking world, shithead,” Buggy scoffed, getting a bit taller in his stretchy clothes. You couldn’t hold in a gasp as Buggy got in his face, looking down at the other Emperor. He was going red under the light coat of paint, his voice more vicious than you’d ever heard. “Did you forget the last time I saw you, asshole?” 

“I don’t know what you mean, we–”

Buggy fisted his hands into the collar of Shanks’ cloak, pulling him even closer, and you would have tried to stop him if strong, dangerous hands hadn't pressed you further into the couch. All you could do was watch. 

“You lied to me, AGAIN,” he seethed, Shanks’ face not showing a hint of reaction, just a bland smile as Buggy continued. “And now you’ve got the nerve to come into my own fucking house, and touch my girl…”

All that rage died in his throat when Buggy’s wide eyes looked to you, then to the two men with their hands on you. 

“Your what, clown,” Crocodile scowled. He was as cold as stone while he watched Buggy reconnect, returning to his normal height. 

Buggy opened his mouth but nothing came out, until Shanks patted him on the back. 

“Miss Y/N’s your girl,” Shanks asked, whistling as he shook his head. “No need to worry, friend. She already shot me down.”

Anger had coursed through Buggy's body again at Shanks’ touch, but those words sent confusion flying across his face. He risked another glance at you, tentative pride pulling his lips into a tiny, crooked grin. 

“Really?”

A split second of warmth, and Buggy’s sweet disbelief made you smile so freely for him. 

Forgetting that you weren’t quite free.

“I believe that was still up for debate,” Mihawk drawled, lightly pinching your thigh. “Now, if you’re done acting like a blowfish, pull up a chair. Unless you’d rather leave your girl all alone with three, scary men.”

As everyone settled, you held your breath. Crocodile had found your forearm, tracing his fingers down your wrist until he held your hand in your lap, so tiny encased in his. He wasn’t hurting you, but the pressure of that large hand gripping yours felt more like a trap than a comfort. 

You leaned against him, looking up until those stony eyes met yours. 

He gripped a little tighter. 

“You haven’t even been here for thirty minutes and you’ve already caused chaos,” Mihawk scolded, the faintest hint of twisted delight in his words as he pulled your attention. “Since you refused to tell me anything over snail, I can’t imagine what sort of ‘business’ you claim to have on our little island.”

Buggy had pulled up a chair as far from Shanks as possible, and you couldn’t look at him on the other side of Crocodile without moving your head, so you didn’t. Instead, you stared at the easy smile of the stranger as he unhooked his cloak to lay across the back of his chair. His loose shirt was tied off at the left sleeve, showing that he was without a left arm. 

How often does that happen to pirates?

You started to turn your head to glance at Crocodile’s hook, but caught yourself, not wanting him to think you were looking at Buggy. 

But Shanks was looking at Buggy. 

“It’s time, old friend.”

“Stop fucking calling me that, dickskin,” Buggy grumbled, only making the man smile wider.

“I wasn’t ready back then,” Shanks confessed. 

You didn’t know this man. You hardly knew anything about him, but somehow you knew this was important to him. It tasted like reverence was dripping from his words as his eyes implored Buggy to listen, to be happy. 

“I know it’s been a long time,” he continued as the world seemed to freeze, “but I’m going now, Bugs. I’m going after it, and I’d like you to join me.”

The silence was thick with things you didn’t understand, even Crocodile and Mihawk going taut beside you.

“You fucking ASSHAT,” Buggy fumed, almost screeching as most of his body parts flew toward the red haired man who just covered his face with his arm. “You think you can just show up, and say that shit after TWENTY FUCKING YEARS? You sick fuck. Piece of shit. You trying to fuck with me? Think I’ll forgive you after all— OW.”

Crocodile had released you, making you yelp as his hand shot forward to grab a piece of Buggy’s floating body, squeezing it until Buggy went quiet. You were trembling now, unable to stop after Crocodile let go of Buggy to sit back, wrapping his arm around your shoulders again. 

“Calm down,” he ordered, his voice steadier than you expected after all the anger he seemed to be holding back since Shanks walked in. “You’ve talked yourself into enough trouble today, don’t be more of a nuisance than usual.”

Buggy pulled himself together, breathing heavily while he stood beside the source of his rage. You started to understand Buggy’s frustration when the red haired pirate just gazed at him, as if the clown had been showering him with compliments instead of insults. 

“So,” Mihawk changed the subject, waving his hand as if to brush the moment away, “it seems you’ve come to steal away our colorful leader so that you can sail off into the sunset together. To find the One Piece, if I understood that correctly?”

“I don’t think our clown wants to go anywhere with you,” Crocodile rasped. Your trembling stopped at what sounded like a possessive note to his voice, as your brain took in Mihawk’s words without fully processing them in the face of your other lover's exchange.

Buggy blinked at Crocodile a few times, mirroring your confusion before rage took over his features again, his gloved fists clenching when he met Shanks’ doe eyes. His next words came out through his teeth, almost growling as he held himself in. 

“You scum sucking liar. You expect me to believe that you’ve finally stopped being a coward? You betrayed everything we–” his voice cracked a bit, and he coughed to shake it away. “How dare you use the One Piece to trick me. To use our dream– my dream... This is a new fucking low for–”

“Buggy,” Shanks soothed, grabbing one of those gloved hands. Buggy took a step back, but his hand disconnected, held firmly by the other man. “I’m not lying to you. I’ll even show you my proof if you like, it’s on the ship... I stayed with you back then, remember?”

Crocodile let out a quiet sigh, as if he’d rather be anywhere but here, while Mihawk seemed to have electricity running under his skin. The emotions and pain running across Buggy’s face sent an ache into your chest, but you couldn’t reach for him yet. 

“I didn’t ask you to stay with me,” Buggy sneered, though his voice was weaker now. 

“I didn’t wanna go without you,” Shanks coaxed as he stood, moving close to place Buggy’s hand back on its wrist before gripping the clown’s shoulder. “I know it’s later than you wanted, but there’s room on my ship if you’d like to join me now. For old time’s sake?”

Buggy’s mouth went slack, his shoulders slumping, even under Shanks’ touch. A touch he didn’t shrug off. 

Then he looked at you. 

Your chest caved in, a hammer of pain and guilt hitting deep. 

Buggy's going to leave me. 

The selfishness you felt in that moment made you sick. You hadn’t known anything about their relationship besides Buggy’s rage, but their connection practically radiated off of them. Who were you to keep him from that? 

People like me don’t get love after all.

Bile hit your throat at that self pitying thought. Crocodile and Mihawk startled you, their hands moving in soothing motions at the same time, everyone waiting for Buggy to speak. 

He didn’t.

“I heard you’re throwing a party,” Shanks broke the silence, his relaxed voice a bit tight as he patted Buggy on the back. “Could I stay for a few days to enjoy the festivities? You can think on it, and we can all have a bit of fun, eh?”

“Was all of this simply a ruse so you could drain us of all our liquor, Red Hair,” Mihawk cut in, his sharp tease giving Buggy a chance to step away as Shanks’ attention was pulled. Buggy plopped down in his chair beside Crocodile, and you didn’t care this time, tilting forward to look at him, but he had leaned back to stare up at the ceiling. 

“Worry not, Hawk Eyes,” Shanks laughed, "we made sure to stock up before we came. In fact, I even brought a few vintages worthy of your refined palate.”

“I’ll let Y/N be the judge of that,” Mihawk praised, helping you breathe again with a soft kiss to your temple. “My little rabbit is more skilled at detecting quality after a couple of weeks than you've been your entire life.”

“Miss Y/N does seem to have good taste,” Shanks grinned, catching your eyes again. 

“Can we drink now,” Buggy groaned, earning laughs from everyone, even Crocodile who stood, walking around to pat him on the back. Buggy gasped, but there was no violence in the touch, or in the larger man’s eyes. 

“Come on, let’s go grab some more bottles. I doubt there’s enough in here.”

It took him a long moment, but Buggy agreed, and you couldn’t help but stare after them. Crocodile never “fetched” anything. Buggy didn’t need to either, there were servants in the hall. You didn’t know whether to feel touched or scared on Buggy’s behalf. 

“Why do you always make such a mess,” Mihawk complained. He wrapped his arm around you, and you let the scent of him calm you down as he pulled you against him. 

“This is actually me trying to clean up a mess,” Shanks laughed, propping his feet up on the table. 

“Are you going to hurt him again?”

Those words rang through the air, and your eyes went wide when you realized that you’d let them escape your lips. Mihawk squeezed you to him gently while Shanks gazed at you. His eyes were so damn pretty, and it felt impossible to think of him as anything other than sweet and handsome. Another slow smile almost took your thoughts away, but you dug your nails into your palms to ward off his charms. 

“I don’t think you’ve made a good impression with our numbers girl,” Mihawk purred, his voice not filled with the usual warning it held when you were doing something he didn’t approve of. 

“I’m glad he’s got someone like you to look out for him,” Shanks praised, and the jovial tilt to his head pissed you off. 

“You don’t know what kind of person I am, and you didn’t answer my question.”

Mihawk chuckled, pulling back from you as if giving permission. 

“You’re right,” the red haired pirate agreed, dipping his head. “I never meant to hurt Buggy, and I don’t plan to do it again.”

“Then why didn’t you say you were sorry,” you snapped. 

I really do have a fucking death wish. 

The Emperor of the Sea finally showed something else on his face besides humor, his brows furrowing as if he didn’t understand. He paused for too long, so your voice went high, fear almost getting in the way. 

“Even if you didn’t mean to do it, you hurt him,” you explained, hoping there was more behind those soft eyes than charm. “You know you hurt him, you just said it. Even if you hurt someone by accident, and especially if you care about them, you should fucking apologize. Otherwise, you’re just an asshole.”

You held your breath. 

Shank’s eyebrows raised, and his lips parted just a bit, while Mihawk laughed openly now, taking a sip of wine as if he were having a lovely time. 

“Let’s get shitfaced,” Buggy yelled as he crashed through the door with a case of wine, the bottles clinking like chimes. Crocodile followed close behind, his face unreadable as he offered you his hand. Confused, you stood while you watched Buggy’s hands fly to the bar to grab more glasses. Crocodile pulled you to the side, pressing another kiss to the top of your head.

“Take your spot, clown,” he ordered, gesturing to your normal seat. Everyone paused while Buggy sat down, leaving you to stand awkwardly while Crocodile sat, until he smoothed his hand along his thigh, giving you one of those smiles that made you shy. “Take your spot, sweetheart.”

Even with the tension in the room, Crocodile’s attention washed it all away until you bit your lip, your body swaying slightly. You leaned in for a kiss, and he didn’t let you pull back. His large hand grasped your waist, his thumb tracing up and down the fabric of that expensive, purple dress he’d picked out for you. 

“Come here, babygirl,” he whispered, helping you climb onto his lap. He guided you to lie back with your legs stretched out across Buggy’s thighs, but ordered the clown to grab the cushion from his vacated chair to prop up behind you. You hummed, perfectly comfortable laying across all three men on the couch. 

Mihawk’s cool fingers tracing over the tops of your feet made you shiver, while Buggy’s grin, and his gloved hands running up and down your bare legs warmed you up. Crocodile supported your head with the base of his hook, hidden behind that velvet cushion, while his hand reached down to your hip, smoothing and holding your dress in place as he stared down the man you’d completely forgotten about. 

When you turned to look at Shanks again, he wasn’t holding that perfect, jovial smile as he took you all in. Instead, his eyes held some of that danger you’d seen before, but there were no emotions that you could read. 

Except for hunger. 

Those soft eyes that were suddenly anything but soft met yours.

“So, Y/N, how long have you known Buggy?”

Thank gods for alcohol.

~

You thought drinking wine from your relaxed position would be difficult, but your lovers kept taking turns holding the glass to your lips. Laughter grew in the room, but it didn’t quell the rotating guilt, sadness, and anger that kept moving through you every time you looked at Shanks, every time you heard his welcoming voice, so full of joy. 

He said it’s his dream. He needs to go. I can’t let him stay. 

Buggy was wiggling in his seat while he told a story, swaying back and forth as he pinched and squeezed lightly up and down your legs. He looked so happy and cute, and seeing him this way between Crocodile and Mihawk made you close your eyes, sighing as you pressed your head back against the cushion. 

“I’m going to take my little rabbit out for some fresh air,” Mihawk announced, still massaging your ankle. 

Crocodile looked down at you as if to disagree, but nodded, helping you to your feet. 

“I’ll join you. Could use a smoke.”

You couldn’t argue as Mihawk's strong arms carried you out into the hallway. Buggy’s wide eyes followed you, and you caught a glimpse around the swordsman's shoulder of that red haired pirate standing up to move closer to your clown. 

Throat tight with trapped emotion, you held yourself up, knowing that relaxing into Mihawk’s warmth and scent might make you lose what control you had. 

The stars were out in full force, sparkling over the balcony like stage lights that were just a tad too far away. Nothing interrupted that silence except for a few small sounds as Mihawk set you comfortably in his lap, and the flick of a lighter followed by the thick scent of smoke as Crocodile sparked his cigar, his silver eyes never leaving your face. 

“Want us to make him stay?”

“What,” you choked out, not sure if you’d imagined that deep voice.

“All you gotta do is tell me what you want,” Crocodile reminded you, that curling smoke hypnotizing you as you tried to understand. “I’ll even fight our hawk eyed friend if he disagrees. Do you care more about making our sweet girl happy, or impressing your red haired ex?”

A tiny sob squeezed from your chest as you closed your eyes. You didn’t have the energy for one of their fights right now. 

“Shh, rabbit,” Mihawk hummed, tracing fingers through your hair. His voice went listless as he stared into the stars, holding you to him. “Shanks is one of my oldest– ha, maybe one of my only friends... But he’s also a grown man with a trail of mistakes. I can’t promise you that his request will lead to joy or sorrow.”

Words couldn’t pass through the threat of tears in your throat. 

This isn’t real.

Those long, dangerous fingers kept playing with your hair, pulling you back into the moment as he tugged and scratched at the strands at the nape of your neck.

“I won’t trap him,” you declared, voice rough as you sat up straighter. “If he doesn’t want to be here, then I would feel sick to make him stay. It’s… I want Buggy to live the life he wants.”

“Caring more about the clown’s feelings than your own desires,” Mihawk scolded in a whisper after a heavy pause. You waited for a threat, for a punishment, but all you got was a gentle kiss to your forehead. 

Crocodile snuffed out his cigar, reaching with those smoke scented fingers to trace along your cheek. 

“You really are sweet, aren’t ya?”

You choked out a laugh, still waiting for the ax to fall, gasping when Mihawk sat you on the table. They both stood to look down at you, and you tried not to be empty. 

“So,” Mihawk waved his hand again, his sharp voice driven toward his goal, “Buggy gets to decide if he stays or goes, and we still have a few days until the party. What would you like to happen in the meantime, rabbit?”

Mouth hanging slack, you jolted a bit when Crocodile rested his hand on your shoulder, his eyes so far above you from this angle.

“What do you…”

Mihawk grabbed your hand, bringing your knuckles to his lips with an almost wistful smile.

“Would you like to partake in a ridiculous amount of fun with the man that might take your clown away? Or would you like us to make him sleep on his ship?”

Soft shock hit your face, and those golden eyes just narrowed in a tease. 

“If it helps your decision, he is a phenomenal fuck.”

“Don’t pressure her,” Crocodile growled, squeezing your shoulder. 

Laughter broke through that dam of emotions in your throat, bursting through you to echo up toward those shining stars. 

Those pretty stars. 

You pressed away the hint of tears from your eyes with the meat of your palm, laughter like a drug to cleanse those bad feelings away. 

“Why do you care about me so much,” you coughed, unable to keep that risky question in. 

“Get over here,” Crocodile ordered, Mihawk helping to lift you into his arms. “Didn’t I tell you already? When I find something of value, I protect it.”

Your laughter bubbled down to quiet giggles, shy once again as that frightening face smiled down at you. Mihawk tugged at your hand, guiding you both down the corridor. 

“Come along now,” he purred as he pulled you back toward the lounge. “Let’s find out how our little rabbit wants to get fucked tonight.”

~

Mihawk crashed through the door more violently than you’d ever seen, slamming it wide. Buggy was leaning back into the couch, those crystal eyes wide as he looked toward you. Shanks was laying across the coffee table, propped up on his elbow while a floating hand held a glass of wine near his lips. 

“Here comes the party,” Shanks called over his shoulder as he sat up. You noticed his knees intertwined with Buggy’s when you were laid out in your new spot, and he was close enough to your clown that you were now laying across all four of their laps. 

“Thank you,” you breathed, trying to read Buggy’s overwhelmed face as he brought a glass to your lips. 

“Look at you two,” Shanks teased as those playful eyes went back and forth between you. He was so close to you now, and you found yourself pressing your legs together to avoid touching his bare chest, or flashing him as he mirrored Buggy around your knees. 

It was hard to focus on any coherent thought with so many idle hands on you. Mihawk was slowly massaging your feet, Buggy still using your legs as a fidget toy, and Crocodile eventually gave up on or forgot about holding up your short dress as he cradled your hand in his. You caught Shanks’ eyes dragging across the exposed skin of your hip, smirking at you when you pulled the fabric up.

The conversations twisted and turned, until he brought it back to you. 

“I’ve never met anyone that had such a hold on so many powerful pirates,” Shanks laughed after downing another glass. “At least not at the same time.”

The night had loosened you all by now, and you felt pulled by his smile. He snagged your free hand, rubbing his fingers along yours while he studied you. 

“Just where did you come from, little bunny?”

“A snooty little tavern–”

“She’s a mystery actually,” Mihawk cut Buggy off, trailing his hand up your shin. “Our numbers girl has secrets.”

“Secrets you’ll be sharing in a few days. Right, sweetheart?”

“Right,” you gasped, meeting Crocodile’s stare as he nudged your face toward his. The press of lips against your palm tore you away to find the red haired man kissing your hand as Crocodile released you. 

“A mystery girl, huh? No wonder you’ve got these three wrapped around your finger.”

“You don’t know her,” Buggy huffed, folding over to lay his head against your stomach. He tugged your hand from those foreign fingers to hold you close, and you couldn’t help but smile. 

“Why don’t we all take a walk,” Mihawk suggested, making you sigh again as those deadly fingers worked the muscles of your feet. “I’d like to give a tour.”

Mihawk carried you down the halls, and you weren’t the only person that noticed the direction he was leading you toward.

“I think the tour of the bedroom can wait,” Crocodile complained. 

“You can just stay in the hall then,” Mihawk taunted. You heard a disgruntled noise from the larger man, but before he could complain again, Mihawk stood before his old suite, across the hall from the one you shared now. 

“Korris,” he called, tapping the bottom of the door with his leather boot. 

“Yes, sir,” came a rough voice through the door. He cleared his throat before opening the door, just a crack. “Status report; Adam has continued to show preference for wet food, the litter was changed this morning, and play time has–”

“Thank you, Korris,” Mihawk hurried, and you pretended not to hear the stifled laughter behind you. “We’ll be visiting with Adam, you may take a break.”

“Of course, sir.”

The bearded man that emerged from that cracked door was large enough to match that deep voice. He wore aged leather armor that carried an array of scratches and tears, and you smiled at what you thought might be the source of some of the more recent additions. Korris left the room quickly, holding the door closed to prevent an escape attempt that didn’t arrive. 

The changes to the suite were drastic, and you couldn’t keep from laughing as you all rushed inside. The large space meant for multiple humans to live in had been altered into exactly what Mihawk had called it.  

A cat paradise. 

So many interesting toys and surfaces, covered beds, endless shelves, scratching posts, and plenty of couches for humans and cats to lounge on together. 

And there was Adam. 

Mihawk kissed you before setting you down, and you went straight to the ground as your sweet tabby came right up to Mihawk to rub against his ankles. 

“You assigned the cat a servant,” Crocodile deadpanned while you gave chin scritches in exchange for head bumps. 

“This is nothing,” Shanks smirked, patting the larger man on the arm before plopping down on a couch. “I’m amazed there’s only one cat in here.”

Buggy choked out a laugh before joining you on the floor, already snagging a toy for Adam to focus on. Those cute, little eyes went massive as he wiggled his butt before pouncing. 

“No more cats,” Crocodile sighed, shaking his head softly as Mihawk walked up to him. 

“Everyone should have someone to curl up to at night,” the swordsman teased, turning his back on Crocodile to face the rest of you. “Speaking of that, Shanks, you may have Y/N’s old suite. It’s the door on the left when you leave Adam’s room.”

You and Buggy glanced at each other, and you grinned at the impulse.

“You two can decide which of these three suites you’d like to sleep in tonight,” Mihawk announced, drawing everyone in. “I’m sure Adam would enjoy some company, but we’ll be across the hall if you need us.”

“Mihawk–”

“Come on, Crocodile. Let’s take a nightcap in our suite. Let the little one’s play for a bit.”

“No,” your scarred lover insisted, walking around Mihawk to offer you his hand. “I’m not leaving Y/N alone with a stranger.”

“I’m no stranger,” Shanks started, but Mihawk reached for Crocodile’s hand before you could take it. 

“Don’t you remember our brave clown last night,” Mihawk praised. He gestured to Buggy, whose lips parted as he stared at the swordsman, until Adam pawed at that faded paint. “He won’t let anyone hurt her, not even us. Such a loyal little toy.”

He patted Buggy on the head before rounding on you.

“Besides, our little rabbit has a safe word, and you know I’ll hear it if you say it. Tell us your safe word, darling.”

“Hopscotch,” you managed, each surreal moment making you question your grip on reality. 

Maybe he did put me away. He said it wouldn’t be that hard. Maybe this is all just a drugged, fever dream, and I’m strapped up in an asylum somewhere.

That could have sent you into the worst sort of spiral, if not for your next thought. 

I don’t fucking care. It’s a good dream.

A gasp left your throat when Crocodile took a knee, tugging you up off the carpet to scan your face. 

“You’re my sweet girl, huh,” he whispered in your ear, making you melt against him. 

“Mhm,” you promised, falling into his kiss. 

“Be good.”

You were left with your mouth agape while Crocodile walked toward the door, Mihawk nudging your chin before leaving a wicked kiss, a kiss that made you dizzy. 

“Be bad if you like, little rabbit,” he purred, making your eyes roll back before he sauntered out of the room. 

“Well,” Shanks stood, wiggling a half-empty bottle toward you. “I’ll trade you a drink for a tour of my suite.”

~

As soon as Crocodile and Mihawk left you alone, Buggy had his hands on you. Giggling as you squeezed through the door, you smiled at Korris who’d returned to keep Adam company. 

It felt strange stepping into that suite. You’d only stayed there a few nights when the new regime had taken over, but heat rushed to your cheeks at the sight of the bed.

The bed you’d buried your face into, trying to relieve the aching need they’d stirred in you, trembling under the desperate fear of being heard. 

“You like this bed, huh,” Shanks rasped, leaning to breathe those words against your ear before lounging on the mattress. “Seems pretty normal to me. Care to show me–”

“Lame,” Buggy mocked, letting go of your waist to give two thumbs down while he blew a raspberry. You laughed a little too loudly at the face Shanks made before you kissed Buggy on the cheek.

 “You’ve got such a great sense of humor,” Buggy grinned, lifting you by the hips until you wrapped your legs around his waist, giggling as he covered your neck with kisses before leaping onto the bed with you beneath him.

“I’m not used to being the third wheel,” Shanks laughed, moving closer to smile down at you while Buggy kissed along your collarbones.

“Get used to it, shithead,” he mumbled, rubbing his face down your chest, that purple dress about to get smeared with grease paint. 

“Stop,” you breathed, grabbing his hand when he pulled away with worry in his eyes. “No, keep doing that, please! Just– Crocodile likes this dress.”

A half second of confusion was followed by that look of ownership you’d missed in his eyes until recently. 

“Can I take it off for you? Or does my pretty star wanna put on a little show?”

The normal, giddy nerves you would have felt were magnified when you caught Shanks’ eyes. 

“I’ll take it off,” you decided.

“Hold on,” Buggy yelled after letting you off the bed. He dug through both nightstands until he pulled out a tonedial, holding it up with a triumphant laugh.

“I forgot about those,” you squealed, leaning toward him to press the shell. Cliche “sexy” music filled the air, which Buggy had deemed vital to place in every suite. 

“Never know which room you might fuck in,” the two of you joked simultaneously, devolving into silliness until Shanks snagged the dial. 

“I might need to borrow one of these, Buggy,” he teased, holding it in his palm while he gestured toward you. 

“I wouldn’t trust you to return it.”

Buggy’s mouth had opened, but it was your lips that delivered that harsh quip, earning you a raised, red-haired brow, and a red-painted grin.

“We’ve only just met,” Shanks studied you, the corner of his lips teasing into a wicked smirk, “but I think I need to earn your respect, don’t I?”

“Good luck,” Buggy snorted, but you got caught by his old friend’s soft, and dangerous eyes. 

“I hope luck is on my side,” Shanks rasped, dropping the tonedial onto the bed to grab your hand, pulling you toward him. Your pulse got heavy as his breath got close, his fingers leaving featherlight touches along your arm, your shoulder, your neck. “Can I try to make it up to you?”

Shanks breathed that question against your ear, his fingers teasing into your hair as you swayed. 

“I don’t…”

“Of course,” Shanks backed off, sitting beside Buggy. “I don’t want to overstep.”

“Yeah, you do,” Buggy rolled his eyes, sending a hand to hold against your cheek until you looked at him. “Star, we can leave if you don’t want to–”

“Do you want to?”

A tiny hint of fear touched your words, but you pushed it aside, willing Buggy to see nothing but your gentle smile.

He’s with me right now, and right now is good. 

“Yeah, Buggy,” Shanks purred, a shit eating grin taking over his face. “Do you want to?”

“Fuck you,” Buggy grunted, frowning at his own choice of words before studying your face. “I only want to if you want to.”

Letting out a breath, you leaned forward to click the button on the tonedial. 

The air shifted as it filled with that cheesy music, and with the heat of consent that left goosebumps along your skin while they watched you dance. They hardly moved, but their eyes that had just been so playful and bright were now heavy with promises you weren’t sure you were ready for. 

But as the purple dress fell to the floor, and hunger filled both of their faces, you stopped caring about anything except for those eyes on your skin. 

“Fuck,” Buggy breathed as you tossed your lingerie to the side. 

“You like to watch, don’t you,” Shanks asked, wetting his lips while his eyes stayed fixed on you. “You like watching Crocodile and Mihawk fuck your girl.”

“I–”

“Yes,” Buggy surprised you, cutting you off with his quiet, but firm agreement.

“Wanna watch me take care of her for you,” Shanks rasped, your body reacting before you could think. “One apology isn’t nearly enough, is it, Buggy? I need to make it up to you. Need to make your little bunny come ‘til she cries, huh?”

Buggy pulled you onto the bed when you gasped, your knees going weak before he set you down next to Shanks.

“I want to if you want to,” Buggy teased into your ear. The tension in your body relaxed as you nodded, smiling when he addressed the other man. “Take care of her for me.”

“Of course,” Shanks vowed, cradling your face as he leaned toward you. “Anything for a friend.”

“Idiot.”

Buggy’s grunted insult had Shanks pressing a smile against your lips, and after a moment of tightness, you let yourself give in. A satisfied hum left his throat, as if he knew he’d finally caught you. Like a trap slamming shut, he deepened the kiss, his fingers tracing along your bare skin until you whimpered for him, tugging at his loose shirt. 

“Want me this bad already, mystery girl,” he taunted, his words burning along your cheeks. That didn’t stop you though, and you hid a smug smile at the little gasp he let out when you started pulling at his waistband.

“I wanna put on a good show for my captain,” your challenging words rolled out in a purr. You couldn’t recall feeling this wickedly powerful before. The danger that flashed in his eyes should have sent you cowering. 

Fuck it.

“I was expecting more from the ‘Great Red Haired Shanks,” you risked, looking him up and down as he hopped off the bed. “You’ve been pretty underwhelming so far. No offense, of course.”

You didn’t dare look away from Shanks, even as Buggy started laughing so hard he was wheezing, his body parts floating lazily around the room as if he couldn’t hold himself together. The red haired pirate’s face was frozen, staring at you as if you truly were a little bunny that had somehow learned to speak.

Then he smirked, dropping his clothes to the floor. 

“Ugh, seriously,” you complained, rolling your eyes at the sight of his nude body.

Not even a heartbeat passed before he was straddling you, pinching your cheek while a frightening grin pulled at his lips.

“Hey, hey,” Buggy calmed, grasping the other man’s wrist.

“Mihawk must–”

“Do all pirates have perfect cocks, or do I just keep getting lucky,” you cut Shanks off, breathless as adrenaline buzzed through you. You flicked your eyes toward Buggy, giving your clown a wink. 

Shanks sucked his teeth, releasing your cheek to tilt your chin up toward him. 

“I’ve got a whole ship full of pirates that would love to help you test your theory,” he warned. You couldn’t tell if he was teasing or not, and the potential threat made your mouth dry.

“You can barely handle my pretty star,” Buggy taunted as he wrapped himself around your back, sticking his tongue out at his old friend. “I doubt any of your underlings would last a minute.”

Buggy’s kisses and praise along your cheek brought more breathless giggles, and you relaxed back against his chest. Shanks paused to watch you both before his retort. 

“I don’t know,” he hummed, brushing hair from your face. “Ol’ Benn has taught me a thing or two about dealing with bratty little bunnies. Seems like Mihawk’s been going easy on you. Never thought I’d see the day.”

A nervous laugh escaped you at that terrifying thought.

“Y/N,” he soothed, tracing his thumb across your lips, “I know I’ve made a bad first impression, and I’ve been a bad friend.”

“A terrible friend,” Buggy corrected softly, earning another little smile. “A shit friend, actually. Dog shit friend.”

Shanks stayed quiet for a moment, his lips quirking as though a laugh or an argument could come flying loose at any moment. He took your hand, his gentle touch carrying too much heat. 

“Please, Y/N,” Shanks started again. Those pretty eyes implored you, and all that ungodly charm weighed your body down. You knew you were falling for it, but didn’t care enough to resist. “Please, let me make it up to you, to both of you.”

The corner of his lips picked up when he noticed your body react, that cocky gleam shining in his eyes when he scanned your features. 

“How about I sweeten the deal for ya, gorgeous? Let’s put on a helluva show for our favorite clown, and if you promise to be a good little bunny for me, I promise I’ll make you scream my name so loud, you’ll forget why you didn’t like me in the first place.”

“I remember you being better at this,” Buggy deadpanned, while you failed to hide your snort with a cough. 

“Tough crowd,” Shanks sighed, studying you.

I’d like to get fucked sometime tonight.

Laughing at your own impatient thought, you took Shanks’ hand in both of yours, kissing his knuckles, tracing along his rough, calloused fingers. Just your breath moving across his skin was enough to shift the air, and you tried not to gloat.

“Here’s the deal,” you hummed, pausing to drag your lower lip down with his thumb. You gave him wide, innocent eyes, letting your body melt under his gaze. “If you can fuck me dumb enough that I can’t say another bad thing about you tonight, then I’ll let it all go. But if you can’t, then I get to drag you through the dirt tomorrow, however I see fit.”

You ended your demands by sucking two of his fingers into your mouth, your body finally giving in to that desire. 

Holy fuck, I am insane . 

Buggy was shifting, gasping softly as he kissed your hair, while Shanks stared down at his fingers in your mouth. Your needy, challenging eyes trailed lower, but you choked before you could find what you were looking for, rough fingers shoving down your throat. 

“You didn’t say anything about me getting some help,” Shanks taunted, winking at Buggy who let out a soft moan. The red haired pirate kissed the corner of your lips while you fought not to gag around his fingers, his next evil words whispered into your ear. “Could have been so nice and sweet. Could have taken all night to tease and taste you. But my friend’s girl needs to learn some manners, huh?”

Buggy grabbed your wrists, already trapping you for Shanks without needing to be asked. Shanks laughed when your eyes rolled back, the smug sound making you shake. You'd forgotten to tell Shanks what your hand signal was if you couldn't use your safe word, but Buggy was right there.

Buggy's right here with me.

Shanks' commanding voice ripped you back into that edge of fear and need, that loss of control.

“I agree to your deal, little bunny,” he taunted, fingers still invading your throat, “but here’s mine. I’ll do all of those wicked things you want me to do to you. I’ll even let you have this pretty mouth back. But if anything but sweetness falls from these lips, we’ll find out how many body parts I need to shove down your throat until you learn to shut the fuck up.”

Hot tears flowed down your cheeks as you tried to meet those “soft” eyes, struggling to relax while four of his fingers fucked your throat now.

“Don’t piss me off, bunny. I’d hate to fail my own challenge, but if this sweet mouth spills anything rotten, then we'll be too busy cleaning it out to give your pretty pussy any attention. Do you understand?”

“Mnngnm,” you moaned around his hand, drool trailing down your strained lips. He released you slowly, pulling free to smile at the strands of spit connecting his hand to your lips you while you gasped and coughed.

“So pretty with all that mess,” he praised, his thick voice making Buggy pause before wiping your chin with a gloved hand. “It’s alright, you can clean her up. It won’t be the last mess on that beautiful face tonight. Would you like that, darlin?”

A needy moan left your raw throat at the sight of Shanks’ sticky fingers reaching down to trace along his perfect, dripping cock. Mesmerized, you watched his thumb tease that bead of precum around his swollen tip. He hissed softly at his own touch, eyes feasting on you as you started to struggle and whine under their weight. 

“Bunny wanna taste,” he offered, holding his thumb in front of your face. Satisfied laughter left his lips as you wrapped yours around his thumb, desperately sucking in the taste of him.

“Mm, is that what this is,” Shanks soothed as he pulled away, freeing your legs to sit beside you. You slumped back, melting against Buggy’s chest while Shanks traced fingers down your thighs. “You really are just a sweet little bunny, aren’t you?”

“Fuck,” you gasped, back arching against Buggy as Shanks plunged two of his fingers into your dripping cunt, his thumb teasing over clit until you moaned for him. 

“I knew it,” he laughed, never letting up. “You only acted like a brat because you’re such a good girl, wanting to make Buggy happy. Isn’t that right, old friend?”

“My girl’s so good for me,” Buggy praised, his name now pouring from your lips. 

“What a cutie,” Shanks chuckled, curling his fingers up until your eyes rolled back, then he froze until you stared up at him. 

“Please–”

“Uh uh uh,” he tutted, tearing a surprised yelp from you when he lightly pinched your clit. “Even though you were acting out for the right reasons, you still need to learn your fucking manners.”

“I’m s-so—”

“You were so mean, and you're already saying sorry,” he wondered, pressing a few teasing circles over your clit with his thumb before leaving another pinch. You recognized a bit of Mihawk’s manic glint in his eyes as he watched you squirm for him. “It’s too bad, huh? Could’ve just shown me what a good girl you were, and I would have helped you.”

“Shanks–” Buggy warned, still holding you against him.

“All you wanna do is please him, don’t you, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you cried out as he gifted you with pleasure again. “Wanna please you, Buggy. So bad, please…”

“Fuck, baby,” Buggy moaned, meeting your half lidded eyes. It was Shanks’ fingers that were bringing you, but you couldn’t look away from the shocked smile on your clown’s face, ignoring the other man, yet again. Buggy ate your screams, his faded red lips on yours while you came on those wicked fingers. The pleasure stretched on and on, until you gasped at the change in pressure. 

Shanks palmed your dripping cunt, still twitching from his work. Both you and Buggy turned to him as he raked his fingers through your core, before dragging all that slick over his cock. Your eyes rolled back, returning to find Shanks’ manic eyes searing into Buggy’s now.

“Can I help her please you, Buggy? Let me do it for you, please?”

The tiniest slip of need from his voice made you shiver, Buggy freezing behind you. He just blinked at the red haired man, until you whispered his name.

“I want to if you want to,” you smiled, giving permission for your lovely clown to enjoy whatever Shanks’ needy request had promised. 

“So darn sweet. Come on, Bugs. Let me show our bunny how it’s done.”

~

“That thirsty, even after our little water break,” Shanks teased, smirking as you crawled across the bed with bare need on your face. He had his back against the headboard, lazily stroking himself while you and Buggy joined him. 

“Yes,” you admitted, fighting the urge to grab his veiny shaft when you sat beside him.  

“What are you waiting for then? Let me feel that hungry, little pussy.”

Buggy kissed your shoulder as you shuddered, crawling over Shanks’ lap until you hovered over that pretty cock. If not for the last couple weeks of your wild life, you might have been timid. Instead, you moaned as he teased his tip through your folds, dragging all that wetness down his shaft. You didn’t pause when he lined himself up, shoving yourself down slowly. 

“Oh gods,” you choked out when you’d taken all of him in.

“Mm, this is what you needed, isn't it,” he rasped, tracing his lips along your neck before chuckling softly, nibbling at your ear. 

“Yes, please,” you moaned, starting to move over him, until floating hands appeared at your waist, holding you down. Buggy gave a soft laugh with Shanks’ cruel one as they watched you whine and fight for friction on that swollen cock.

“Come on, little bunny,” Shanks laughed, teasing his thumb over your clit for a brutal moment before smearing it across your lips. “I’m gonna show you how to please Buggy, just like you wanted. Be a good girl, and you might get to do more than just warm my cock tonight. Do you wanna be a good girl for me, Y/N?”

“Mhm,” you panted, catching eyes with Buggy as he sat beside Shanks. The slow, satisfied look in Buggy’s eyes let your body go loose as you glanced back and forth between them. “I’ll be a good girl.”

“You heard her,” Shanks growled as he held his hand in front of your face. His eyes were wide and hungry as he stared at your lips, until his hand was suddenly full. He tilted his head back, letting out a deep laugh while your brain processed that Buggy’s cock was now gripped in his friend’s hand. 

“Let me show you how it’s done.”

Shanks kept taunting eyes on yours while he licked and sucked Buggy’s cock like he was born to do it. The sight of him taking your lover down his throat had you clenching around his length inside you, until all three of you reacted to each other, a loop of pleasure and need that had only just started. 

“Your turn,” Shanks rasped, planting a sloppy kiss on your lips before shoving Buggy’s dick down your throat. 

Digging your nails into your thighs was the only thing you could control, besides relaxing your throat to let Shanks use you. Buggy’s fingers tightened as he kept you in place, your body going frantic with the need to fuck yourself onto that thick cock.

“There ya go, bunny girl. Relax just a bit more for him, and we’ll give you what you need. Mm, that's good. Is she pleasing you, Buggy?”

“F-fuck yes,” Buggy groaned, the press of his fingers only adding to your need. 

“Do it, Buggy,” he purred, guiding a little more force down your throat. “Fuck her onto me. Show me what a sweet little cunt you’ve got– gods damn…”

Buggy’s hands on your waist went from pressing you down to lifting and slamming you onto Shanks' cock over and over until you forgot you were human. All the pressure and discomfort of waiting, of getting throat fucked so thoroughly, turned into blinding pleasure as Buggy used your cunt like a toy for his friend. 

“I’m gonna–”

“I feel you, Bugs. Fuck, yes. Let me see you make a mess on her.”

Shanks pulled him out, holding that floating dick above you just in time for hot lines of come to paint your face and neck, dripping down to your chest. You were still gasping, relearning how to breathe, but you licked your lips clean. The way they both looked at you made you want nothing more than to please them for the rest of your life.

“Come here,” Shanks growled, before pulling you in for a kiss. He dragged his tongue across your chin first, sharing the taste of Buggy’s come while he ate at you, moaning as he sat back. Your clown’s hands still used you like a fuck toy for the other man, and your body loved to be used.

“That’s right, bunny,” Shanks praised, fisting his hand into your hair. “You’ve been so good for us. Such a messy girl. Mm, what a sweet little pussy, milking my cock like this. Gonna stuff you so fucking full.”

Buggy’s hands returned to holding you down while Shanks groaned, forcing his friend’s come as deep inside you as possible. Your voice was almost lost by the time you could remember language. 

“Got anything to say about me now, little bunny,” Shanks threatened, a dangerous laugh leaving his lips as he trailed his fingers down your skin.

You fell against his chest, shaking your head as you took in the scent of him. He kissed your temple, chuckling as he wrapped his arm around you. Sleep felt suddenly urgent, but Buggy’s lips tickled up the back of your neck until you shivered. 

“Shower time. Unless you want another hair care lecture in the morning.”

“You know he can still hear you,” Shanks teased over Buggy’s hushed tone. 

“Now he can, asshole!”

“Why do you care anyway, clown? Don’t you have your own sense of style?”

“Crusty gizz hair might still be your style, Shanks, but some of us have actually grown up.”

“Crusty?” 

“If I don’t go to bed now, I might get grumpy, and say grumpy things.”

“Can’t have that,” Shanks agreed, and you let these two old friends carry you to the bathroom. Buggy asked you both to wash him while he sent his hands out to change the sheets. 

Of course, the bed was a mess since he’d done it blind, and you had to interrupt before Shanks finished claiming he could have done a better job one handed.

“Sleeeep,” you chanted, laying down on the plush carpet until they got it together. Humming through the air when Buggy lifted you, you let out a contented sigh as he laid you down in the middle of those clean sheets. You curled up against his chest as you had so many times before, but instead of Crocodile’s large form, it was Shanks that wrapped himself around your back. 

Exhaustion hit hard, and you enjoyed the soft, silly banter as you all drifted off. 

So comfortable. So happy. You’d almost forgotten about the painful question this man had brought with him. You almost let it go, relaxation so close to winning out.

But even after Buggy drifted off into light snores, Shanks’ hand didn’t stop reaching for him. 

The red haired pirate’s arm was curled around you, but he couldn’t seem to pick a spot to rest. 

His hand gripping Buggy’s shoulder.

His thumb tracing along Buggy’s hip. 

His hand wrapped around Buggy's waist. 

His rough fingers teasing across Buggy’s skin until goosebumps rolled over him, until Buggy shivered in his sleep beside you.

Now that Buggy’s snores had grown louder, you doubted you’d get any sleep tonight.

“You can come if he wants you.” 

The almost sound was timed with Buggy’s snore, and you jolted when you felt that breath in your ear. 

“Wha–”

“Shh, little bunny,” Shanks urged, pressing his hand over your lips until you froze. “Let’s let him rest.”

Notes:

Hi, yes, hello! How's everyone doing?

Chapter 17: Let Me Help You With That

Summary:

Crocodile isn't happy with your charming guest, and you might agree.

Notes:

I am WAAYYY too excited for y'all to read this one 😭

 

Alternate POV Symbols:
🌲 ~ Flashbacks from Reader's Past | 🐊 ~ Crocodile | 🗡 ~ Mihawk | 🤡 ~ Buggy | 🔴 ~ Shanks |
(If reader is not in the scene, then these symbols will bracket that section to denote the POV shift)

~🐊🗡️🐊🗡️~

 

“I don’t like this.”

“Really,” Mihawk teased, pouring Crocodile a glass of scotch before topping off his wine. “ You hide it so well.”

“Fuck off,” Crocodile grumbled, more annoyance than anger coating his rough voice. He continued pacing after accepting the scotch, taking too large a sip, too quickly. He hissed lightly at the burn, then sent those silver eyes to tear into the man hanging his fancy coat on its fancy hanger. “Tell me what they’re doing.”

The swordsman smirked, touching his arm to guide him to one of the loveseats. 

The loveseat that was against the connecting wall to the middle suite. 

“They already went in there,” Crocodile huffed, taking up a large space on the small sofa. 

“You didn’t hear the doors? You really are bothered, aren’t you?”

“Of course I’m fucking bothered,” he snapped, although his voice was a bit hushed so close to that wall. “You invited some freak to come fuck our girl, and our– and you didn’t think to tell me? I don’t care if he’s your ex, he’s a fucking Emperor. This is not a good time for variables. Or do you not care about our plans?”

Mihawk was still standing, his head cocked after the slew of words that had just left the typically stoic man’s lips. Crocodile’s jaw clenched tighter with each passing moment of silence, until confusion took over his features, his lips parting as Mihawk sat down beside him. 

Tapping his ear, Mihawk shifted in his seat, facing Crocodile as he tilted his ear toward the wall. This left the golden eyed man with nowhere to place his long legs except for across the larger man’s lap, leaning back against the cushioned armrest as he met his gaze.

“I apologize for not telling you about Shanks,” Mihawk began, taking a large swig of wine while Crocodile processed his words, and the weight Mihawk had so casually stretched over his lap. Silver eyes narrowed, searching for lies on the swordsman's face as he continued his apology. “You’re right. We’re partners, and I shouldn’t have let my personal feelings keep me from respecting our professional arrangement. It won’t happen again.”

“Didn’t know you were capable of apologies, Hawk Eyes,” Crocodile sighed after a long pause. He downed his glass, which the other man grabbed to set down for him, as those long, leather clad legs were still restricting his movement. 

“I am capable of many things that you aren’t aware of,” he replied, just a hint of that teasing edge in his words.

“Just tell me what they’re saying,” Crocodile groaned, rubbing his palm over his face. “If he hurts her, your apology is fucking null.”

Mihawk laughed as he extricated himself from the sofa, fetching the bottles of scotch and wine before resuming his position. He looked as pleased as a cat with cream as he stretched across Crocodile’s lap again, body going loose before he started to share what their girl was up to.

“Don’t worry, Crocodile. Our little rabbit is far more interested in our clown than touching the handsome stranger. In fact, she’s giving him a rather hard time.”

He chuckled at that, his eyes looking up a bit as he focused on the laughter in the other room. 

“What do you mean,” grumbled the scarred man, frowning deeper than usual as he waited for more. 

“Well, Y/N insulted Shanks’… manhood for one thing,” Mihawk laughed as Crocodile choked on his liquor, trying to speak through his coughs until Mihawk took pity on him. “Don’t worry, it was just a joke. They seem to be having a lighthearted time in there.”

“How does your ex handle being the butt of jokes?”

“He’s not my ex, you know,” Mihawk insisted, stretching his neck before elaborating. “He was a rival. Then a friend. Then a close friend.”

“Do you consider all your close friends to be ‘phenomenal fucks?”

Golden eyes widened, showing a hint of shock, even a surprised lift to the corner of his lips before he shook his head with a laugh. Crocodile flexed his jaw before taking another burning sip, looking away from that pleased face.

“I can’t imagine you have many close friends either, sandman, and it’s not easy to find lovers worthy of respect out on the seas,” Mihawk started, his teasing voice turning sharper as he went on. “What about you, Crocodile? Do you have any long lost loves out there somewhere? Did you keep a little harem of sweet girls when you had your hook in that kingdom? Maybe there’s even a few baby crocs crawling around some–”

“Enough.”

Blood and scotch mixed in Crocodile’s palm, most of the shards of glass still held or embedded in his hand after he’d crushed it. Mihawk’s eyes looked even less human than usual, assessing the other man like a predator deciding whether to leave this catch alone or not. 

“Let me help you with that,” Mihawk rasped, slowly reaching for that clenched fist. Crocodile nodded, the veins in his reddened neck starting to shrink. He followed the swordsman to the bathroom, the only sounds being his slowing breaths, Mihawk’s little hums, and the tapping sound of each piece of glass as they were carefully removed from his palm to fall into the bin.

“It’s not bad,” Mihawk noted after cleaning and wrapping the collection of small wounds. “I’d hate to have to buy you another hook. This one looks rather expensive.”

Crocodile huffed a laugh, the tension in the room starting to ease while he sat against the marble counter. He let out a sigh, tilting his head toward the ceiling before diving back in. 

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Oh, Shanks? I think he can take a joke better than you can,” Mihawk laughed, holding his hands up at Crocodile’s scathing look. “Sorry, sorry. No more jokes. Not tonight, anyway.”

“Just tell me what’s happening.”

Mihawk agreed, but led the scowling man out to the bedroom before frowning at the loveseat, mumbling about that “peaty stench.” Instead, they sat on the edge of the bed, Crocodile’s rough voice starting until Mihawk cut him off.

“Your sweet girl was brattier than I’ve ever heard her, and Shanks is handling her well.”

“Are you fu–”

“She’s having a lovely time,” he assured, smoothing his hand over a large thigh before Crocodile could get to his feet. “I wouldn’t let him hurt her any more than she wants. Besides, our clown is taking good care of her. Shanks is giving our pets a night to remember.”

“I don’t fucking trust him,” he growled, shaking his hand loose after clenching it around the bandages. He paused, waiting for Mihawk’s snarky reply, but they shared another long, empty moment. 

Another moment that neither man used to bring up the elephant in the room.

“I should have told you,” Mihawk rasped as he stood, touching Crocodile’s shoulder as he moved to stand between those long legs. “In the spirit of honoring our professional agreement, why don’t I make it up to you?”

The air shifted, hot and thick, while Crocodile’s eyes narrowed yet again as he studied the man that was too close. 

That he’d let get too close.

“How do you mean,” he asked, although the answer was clear in those golden eyes, a tiny gleam of fire building within them.

“Since it’s my fault that you’re without your sweet girl, or your only hand tonight,” Mihawk purred, taking his time running his fingers down Crocodile’s arms, “I believe I owe my business partner some assistance with relieving the stress I’ve caused. Don’t you?”

Crocodile wet his lips, eyes pouring down that wicked face, that bare chest, those ridiculously low, leather pants, to the hands that traveled back up his arms to his shoulders. He didn’t stop the swordsman when those arms wrapped around his neck. 

The man was so close. 

“What do you say, sandman?”

“Business partners,” Crocodile urged, unable to look away from the other man’s smirking lips.

“Of course,” Mihawk hummed as he leaned even closer. “I’m just helping out my business partner. Can’t have you so stressed before the big event. Let me take care of you.”

That offer, that request, was left as a tempting breath along Crocodile’s lips, and his silver eyes went dark before he closed that fraction of space. The kiss was almost angry, as if there was too much energy in their bodies, so they forced it into each other's hungry mouths. Soft grunts, little gasps, and heavy breaths filled the air as their tongues explored each other. 

Mihawk’s lips managed a smirk, a laugh almost breaking through, until Crocodile’s bandaged hand forced him deeper into the kiss. Fingers twisting into soft black hair brought pretty noises from the swordsman’s throat, which only made those fingers tighter.

“Fuck,” Crocodile broke the kiss with a groan, pushing Mihawk back after the swordsman had pressed a leg against the hard length already growing in his dress slacks. Before either could say a word, Mihawk was on his knees, trailing hands along Crocodile's inner thighs, devilish satisfaction clear on his face. 

“Take these–”

“Shut up,” Crocodile growled, cutting Mihawk off with the tip of that golden hook, pressing into his neck. “You wanna suck my cock so fucking bad, you don’t get to tell me what to do. You gonna ask nicely?”

Mihawk’s eyes went heavy, fluttering as the hook dug in, his mouth slack as he tried to look up at the man who had him. 

“Please, Croc, take your pants off. Please, let me suck that perfect cock of yours.”

Mihawk gasped when Crocodile grabbed his jaw, hard, scraping the hook down his neck to his shoulder. Crocodile finally had his own pleased smile as he stared down at the twitching man in his grasp, those leather pants straining as Mihawk moaned from the pain. 

“If you want this, you know what my fucking name is,” he taunted, leaning down to whisper in Mihawk’s ear as he kept dragging that sharp point down his skin. “What’s it gonna be, little bird? Still want what I can give you?”

“Yes,” Mihawk gasped before scraping his bottom lip through his teeth. 

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, daddy,” Mihawk moaned, his eyes rolling white as the words left his lips. 

“Good boy,” Crocodile purred, releasing him before standing up. He towered over the man on his knees, smirking down at the unexpected sight of Dracule Mihawk begging for his cock. “Now get to work.”

Mihawk gazed up at the man he’d just called, ‘daddy,’ and obeyed instantly, his mouth hanging open with need as he reached for Crocodile’s belt.

“Yours too,” the scarred man ordered after Mihawk helped him out of his clothes. Crocodile had started to undo his vest and shirt slowly, but Mihawk’s skilled fingers flew up to free him. Now Crocodile sat nude on the edge of the bed, watching as those leather pants were undone, and set aside so carefully that he laughed. “You’re so precious about your fucking clothes.”

“Of course, they’re one of a kind,” Mihawk huffed, frowning a bit before going to his knees again.

“I’ll make sure you get all the fancy clothes you like, swordsman. Want me to hunt down a personal tailor for you?”

Mihawk paused, cocking his head as his hands reached for the larger man's thighs. It was his turn to narrow his eyes, before laughing at the sincere look on that frightening face. 

“I would never say no to such an offer, but I made those myself.”

He started to smooth his palms along Crocodile’s thighs, looking away from the face above, missing the grin that beamed down at him. Fingers dug into that black hair again, and he moaned softly as he was forced to meet Crocodile’s gaze.

“So, my scary little bird likes to garden, treats cats like fucking children, collects the prettiest toys, and even makes his own fancy clothes,” he teased, though his voice was filled with enough heat to keep Mihawk from retorting. “Do you want daddy to help his little prince build a new castle?”

Mihawk gasped softly, eyes still guarded as he melted into the rough touch. 

“I like that song you hum when you’re happy,” Crocodile whispered, almost releasing Mihawk when he realized what he’d confessed, but he charged on, pretending it hadn’t happened. He brought his hook down along Mihawk's back, trying to distract him with pain that had the man’s cock twitching. 

“You know I can give you what you want, don’t you?”

“I know you can, daddy,” Mihawk agreed, a bit of himself coming back as he let that tasty word float between them. “All I have to do is tell you what I want.”

Crocodile sat back, satisfaction warming his features as he flicked his eyes down. 

“Show me how much you’ve been wanting to suck my cock, you twisted, little prince.”

A needy sound left Mihawk’s throat. He stared too long, etching that moment into his memory before giving in to that desire and demand. 

Long fingers danced down his thighs, and Crocodile caught himself holding his breath as those shining eyes got closer. Mihawk let himself admire that cock the way it deserved, looking it over as if trying to decide which bite of cake to enjoy first. Those heavy balls hung down over the edge of the mattress, and he couldn’t resist reaching for them first, enjoying the little gasp Crocodile let out. He traced his fingers up the shaft, taking in every new sound from his lover’s lips. 

Mihawk brought both hands down, wrapping around that thick cock before leaning in. He looked up from his work with a wicked smile, feeling precum drip down his own length from how desperately he’d been wanting to do this. 

“You’ve made a lot of promises, daddy,” he teased, hands still playing while a stern face stared down. 

“And?”

“And I hope you keep them,” he purred, licking over that swollen tip. The taste made him moan, Crocodile taking in a sharp breath at the feel of that sweet, dangerous tongue.

Mihawk swirled that tongue, spreading the taste around until Crocodile shuddered, reaching for Mihawk’s hair to hurry him up. Mihawk moved before those fingers could push him, taking as much of that massive cock down his throat as he could in the first go.

“Gods, yes. Good boy, use that filthy fucking mouth of yours.”

Strangled, desperate moans vibrated over Crocodile’s veiny shaft as Mihawk let spit drip down for his hands to play in while he kept opening his throat. 

“One hand, little prince,” Crocodile chuckled, dragging his hook along Mihawk's forearm. “You can make us both come, can’t you? You talk such a big–”

That hungry throat relaxed further, even as the man on his knees reacted to the challenge. Muffled grunts forced through as one of his hands left Crocodile’s base to wrap around his own, throbbing length. His other hand shifted down to those heavy balls, squeezing and stretching as he swallowed as much of that fat cock as he could, shoving deeper and deeper. 

“Fuck yes. Fucking knew my cock would fit your throat, you dirty, little prince. Be a good boy, and spill all over your hand before you swallow my come. You want daddy's come so fucking bad, don’t you?”

Golden eyes burned with tears as Mihawk looked up, unable to respond except for the choked moans and nods that were lost while he fucked his face onto that cock. But Mihawk obeyed, eyes rolling back as he brought himself, his come shooting high enough to coat his own chest, and the bottoms of Crocodile’s thighs. 

“Ju–ust like that– fuck,” Crocodile praised, fisting Mihawks hair to guide the last few strokes. The bandage on his palm had soaked through, but neither man noticed while Crocodile forced that willing throat to take everything he had to give. 

Mihawk lost himself in the pain and bliss of being used, drinking in his lover's pleasure as that delicious cock pulsed along his tongue, and so fucking deep down his throat.

After a pause, Crocodile yanked the man up by his hair, Mihawk letting out a filthy moan from the force. 

“Fuck…”

Silver eyes poured over the masterpiece that was Mihawk’s body. His own pleasure dripped down his chest and stomach, while the blood from Crocodile’s palm trailed down from the back of his neck, his shoulder, gathering over his collarbone before it fell down his chest in a few thin, bright lines. 

“Pretty prince,” Crocodile rasped while Mihawk still twitched from his attention. He released that black hair, frowning at the blood pooling in his palm. Mihawk leaned forward as he grabbed the bleeding hand, either not noticing, or not caring as he placed it against his chest, adding to the mess on his skin.

“So, did I please you, daddy,” he asked, his normal, teasing voice rough from the abuse his throat had just taken. 

“Need more praise, huh? Such a spoiled little prince,” Crocodile laughed, tracing one of his thick, jeweled rings over Mihawk's pouting lips before he could retort. “You were soo good for daddy.”  

The swordsman's eyes fluttered closed, a relaxed smile touching those devious lips. He swayed a bit, a rare look of exhaustion washing over his features. 

“Shower first, bright eyes. You look like a fucking crime scene.”

 

~~~

 

“Come here,” Crocodile urged, frowning at Mihawk when he laid down in his normal spot, with no one between them. Mihawk raised a brow, but kept his mouth shut, moving to let the larger man curl around his back. 

“Are they okay in there?”

“Of course,” Mihawk laughed softly as sleep pulled the two ex warlords under, “Buggy’s already snoring.”

 

~🐊🗡️🐊🗡️~

 

It hadn’t made a difference when Shanks released you, his hand no longer covering your lips. You weren’t sure you’d be able to make a sound ever again, to speak any words after the weight of change that Shanks had dropped onto your life.

Buggy’s silly snores gave you bittersweet smiles, yet you still couldn’t sleep. 

Every sweet thought of Buggy led to the grief of him being gone. Every sad thought of losing Buggy led to guilt, the need to never hold someone back, to never force someone to be with you. 

Selfish. What have I done, anyway? I betrayed him, used him, now we’re both just playthings. He needs to leave. He deserves better than me.

Eventually, Shanks drifted off with his arm still wrapped around you to touch Buggy’s waist. The connection between them was so heavy and ringing that it made your teeth hurt. Time became torture, caught between these sleeping men, and your hurtful thoughts. The prick of tears came, and you longed to sneak out of this bed to be held in the massive one next door. Convincing yourself that you’d be able to sneak away from these powerful pirates undetected was pointless, as the thought of leaving Buggy alone with Shanks made your stomach turn. 

Out of pure exhaustion, you were finally forced into sleep. Stormy seas met you again, but this time the ship was cast in red light, and it was Buggy’s voice calling your name.

 

~~~

 

“Y/N? Pretty star? You hungry, baby?”

Foggy eyes opened to a smiling face, that red nose seeming redder without fresh makeup to distract from it. Buggy was propped up on an elbow, holding an orange slice to your lips.

“I’m hungry,” Shanks purred, making you jolt as your sleepy brain remembered whose warm body you were pressed against. 

“Get your own food, shithead,” Buggy grumbled, eating the slice himself before you had a chance to think. 

“Didn’t know this was a buffet,” Shanks chuckled as he nuzzled his face into the side of your neck, humming at the twitches and moans you let out from the sensation. He breathed his next words against your ear, the heat and promise in them making your body tighten, already dripping for him. “I’d love to eat a little bunny for breakfast. I bet you taste so fuckin’ sweet, huh Y/N?”

Too tired and tingling to care that this charming man was here to steal your love, your head fell back against him with a desperate whine. Shanks let out a satisfied sigh as your body loosened, kissing and nibbling down your neck. Buggy placed an orange slice on your tongue, his crystal eyes feasting on the sight of Shanks’ hand and lips on your body before he kissed you, sharing that sweet, yet sharp taste.

“Mm, such a needy little bunny. Gonna tell me how she likes it, Bugs? Tell me how to–”

“Time for work,” Crocodile ordered, the heavy clang of his hook beating against the door. 

 

~~~

 

You were in a daze. 

It didn’t make sense that you had already gotten used to a routine that was so new, and so dangerous, so likely to change at any moment. 

Yet, adding Shanks to the mix threw you off. You found yourself spacing out, and you weren’t the only one affected. Crocodile’s displeasure radiated off of him like simmering heat when Shanks charged into the shared suite to get ready with the group.

His frown only let up when it was his turn for the shower, smirking at Mihawk’s daily complaint about needing to install multiple shower heads. 

“I need a hand, sweetheart. Wanna help daddy out?”

Crocodile rested his arm against the shower wall away from the water, his soft eyes leading you to his bandaged palm.

“What happened?”

Your question was drowned out by two other voices, Mihawk’s lazy drawl, and Buggy’s excited yell.

“None of us can reach that—“

“I can lend two hands!”

Buggy had already dried off, dropping his towel to the floor as his hands flew back into the shower. Giggles burst out of you when the animated hands started scrubbing Crocodile’s chest and shoulders, the massively tall man’s lips parting while he gawked at Buggy’s smiling face.

Mihawk turned to grab the shampoo, tossing it up for Buggy to massage through that black hair. Your attention was dragged away from the show at the sight of the vicious, red lines trailing from Mihawk’s neck down to his lower back.

Your golden eyed lover caught your expression, making your mind buzz white with a subtle wink before stepping toward Crocodile.

“I’ll get your lower half. You’re too large for one person to handle alone.”

Deep, pleased laughter drifted through the steamy air as Mihawk started scrubbing those powerful thighs, a small, but wicked smirk pulling at his lips. 

Buggy’s nose was pressed lightly against the glass, an adorable grin on his giddy face, as he focused on washing that frightening man, but over his shoulder, another face ripped you from the moment.

Shanks. 

His red hair was still dark with water, rivulets pouring down the muscles of his chest and stomach. He stared at the scene, nothing in his pretty eyes that you could read, except for the lack of that playful glint. 

Shanks noticed your gaze, and as much as you wanted to look away, to pretend you hadn’t seen it, you were trapped. 

Trapped by the curiosity that filled those eyes as they poured over your skin, seeming to take in all that you were. The depth of his scrutiny stole your breath, but he broke the spell with a slow, crooked grin. 

Your lips obeyed you, returning that friendly smile, but the feeling of being studied didn't fully fade.

What did he see?

Notes:

I have made myself FERALLLLLL. Can't think about anything else 😩

Chapter 18: The Only Thing in the World

Summary:

Old friends reconnect, Buggy shows off his work, and you feel time moving by too fast. How can you enjoy the day when your world is falling apart?

Notes:

This is the first chapter where I still think a lot of you will hate it, but I don't care as much because I'm super proud of it, lol. Although I realllyyy hope you like it!!! It's a rollercoaster 😵 (BIG DRAMA & EMOTIONS WARNING)

 

Alternate POV Symbols:
🌲 ~ Flashbacks from Reader's Past | 🐊 ~ Crocodile | 🗡 ~ Mihawk | 🤡 ~ Buggy | 🔴 ~ Shanks | (These symbols will bracket sections to denote the POV shift)

“You know, I can’t help but be curious,” Shanks wondered aloud, taking a sip of black coffee. He smirked at you from the newly added table on the balcony, the single round one wasn't nearly large enough for the appetites, or the sheer space that all these pirates demanded. 

“What’s that they say about cats,” Crocodile grumbled, tossing a napkin onto his empty plate before snagging the paper from Mihawk to flatten out on the table. He stared down at the page, giving the air of not caring whether the red headed guest lived or died, let alone replied.

Buggy floated his hand toward you from the second table. His body was so close to his old friend, but his smile was on you while he kept feeding you bits of fruit as he had all morning, his thumb rubbing over your lips when sweet juice would spill. 

Crocodile and Mihawk said nothing about it. 

But Shanks had too much to say.

“It just seems silly to me,” he continued, those brown eyes holding you in place, “that Miss Mystery Girl is keeping secrets from her lovers. Especially since they’ll be forced out of you after the party anyway. Why not share before then?”

“Leave her alone, shitbrain,” Buggy ordered, but there was no real bite in his voice. 

Your mouth went dry, the Emperor’s prodding words had twisted at your growing anxiety, even dipped in that friendly charm.

He’s right. It’ll be worse if I wait.

“Aren’t all the party guests your friends, Y/N? Do they know your little secret?”

“I think that’s enough curiosity for the day, Shanks,” Mihawk drawled as he rested a hand on the hook that had started scraping across the table.

“No worries,” Shanks winked, letting out a relaxed sigh as he stretched his arm toward the morning sun. “Your sweet, little bunny is just so darn interesting.”

“And you’re so darn annoying,” Buggy mocked, earning a playful smile from Shanks’ lips when he met those pretty, brown eyes.

“Alright, President,” Crocodile cut in while the red haired pirate leaned his face closer to your clown. Buggy perked up at the title of his position as their figurehead, his eyes a bit wide as he looked away from Shanks’ gaze. The dreamy look on his old friend’s face didn’t fade when Crocodile went on. “I’d like for us to sit in on your rehearsal this evening. Party’s in two days, we need to know what to expect.”

“Uh, sure, boss,” Buggy straightened up. You smiled to yourself as you caught his gloved fingers tapping and walking up and down his own thigh. “Let’s do dinner and a show!”

“Lovely,” Mihawk said dryly, although his eyes lingered on Buggy longer than usual before looking toward you. “I’m sure our clown will be busy preparing. Why don’t you all join me for a walk?”

“Got your garden set up yet?”

“Not at all,” Mihawk sighed at Shanks’ question, looking up at Crocodile after the larger man had huffed a laugh.

“Too busy building a cat palace, and terrorizing your other pets?”

“I have many fulfilling hobbies,” Mihawk smirked back, before narrowing his eyes at the rest of you. You and Buggy looked away quickly, while Shanks beamed at them. 

“Let’s have a tour then! I’d love to go play in the dirt,” Shanks laughed, his wicked eyes burning into you.

“Miss Y/N and I have some work to take care of,” Crocodile ordered, resting his arm across the back of your chair. If these men were slightly less terrifying, you might have laughed at their antics.

Shanks laughed for you, a low chuckle that sent shivers over your skin, still tingling after Mihawk led him away.

 

~~~🔴🗡️🔴🗡️~~~

 

Shanks whistled softly, a comforting tune to keep his steps light as he followed his golden eyed friend outside this castle disguised as a circus tent.

That thought made his steps light.

Mihawk stayed silent, not a hint of lightness in his gait, except for his predator’s grace. He avoided glancing toward the source of that whistled tune he’d been humming lately until they were hidden away in the empty, walled garden, free from prying eyes.

“What exactly are you doing here, Red Hair?”

Shanks ignored the hidden threat under Mihawk’s bored voice as he chose one of the empty beds to inspect. Fisting into the soil, he let the dirt slip through his fingers, taking in the scent. 

“Think you’ll be here long enough for grapes,” Shanks rasped, standing as he tilted his head toward the other man. He wiped his hand on his thigh, huffing a laugh when Mihawk frowned at the stain of dirt on his pants. “You never change, old friend. Wanna hose me down before we go back inside? I’d hate to dirty up your shiny, new dollhouse.”

Shanks was one of the only people in the world that could notice the shift in Mihawk’s expression, his face almost sinking deeper into that lazy mask.

“You’ll never match me with cutting words, Shanks, just like you’ll never best me with a sword,” he reasoned, an unexpected tightness in his chest that he discarded, letting his body be nothing but air in this charged moment. “I’d rather not stand here all–”

“Come on, you ol’ son of a gun,” Shanks laughed, stepping across an invisible line of comfort Mihawk had drawn, touching his shoulder. “Don’t be a sourpuss. I told you I could use a little vacation, and I–”

“And you saw Buggy’s poster,” Mihawk noted, brushing that dirty hand away to wipe the evidence off of his coat. 

“You all looked real cute,” Shanks breathed, his eyes leaving heat as he dragged them down Mihawk’s skin. His lips parted into a cocky smile as he admired the column of Mihawk’s throat, and that chest covered in so many pretty scars. He smirked as he searched for some of his own making. 

“So that’s all you’re here for, then,” Mihawk asked, slipping into stillness under Shanks' hungry gaze. “Just drinking, and fucking as usual? Or just to steal our clown away?”

His hand flexed just slightly. He hadn’t meant to say those words quite like that. And the shadow that grew across Shanks’ face confirmed that he should have reined that question in. 

“Didn’t you used to call him my clown,” Shanks countered, gesturing to himself as he stepped even closer. “You know, back when you would give me shit for talking about him?”

“I…”

“Dracule Mihawk is speechless,” Shanks laughed, the sound jarring compared to the way laughter normally poured out of him. He stepped away, but only to pace in front of the swordsman, spitting words like daggers at his feet. “Always got something to say, except for now, huh? You’ve said so many things. Ooh, how about when you said I only liked my pathetic clown because of his powers, and that I’d be better off with a pretty, blue dildo? That’s definitely in my top ten. Or what about–”

“I’m sorry.”

Mihawk choked on those words, but he found himself in stillness for a different reason. A different danger.

Shanks stared, his mouth held open as if waiting to catch whatever word had been left forgotten from the shock. 

“What,” he growled, watching those glittering eyes for any hint of a feint.

“I’m sorry,” Mihawk confessed again, realizing that it was true. “I didn’t plan on–”

“Didn’t plan on fucking your best friend’s ex,” Shanks fumed, voice echoing a bit in the walled garden. “Keeping my clown as a toy? Have you used him as a fucking dildo yet, or are you still pretending to care about anyone besides your fucking cats?”

Mihawk cringed, taking each blow like a sword across his flesh. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d been this affected by words. 

Not words. 

Guilt. 

“I’m–”

“So how’d it happen then, old friend,” Shanks dared, anger still radiating off his skin, the air getting a little harder to breathe. “If you didn’t plan on it, did you just run around with your cock out until it landed in something?”

Mihawk tried to turn his surprised laugh into a cough, but Shanks’ eyes went manic at the sound.

“Who knew all my stoic friend needed to make him laugh was to fucking betray me. I can’t believe I’m surprised.”

“Shanks, wait–”

“Fuck off,” Shanks warned as he dodged Mihawk’s grasping hand, walking toward the exit. 

“Crocodile was going to kill him,” Mihawk called, hoping his friend would stop moving since he couldn’t seem to start. Shanks slowed, stopping to look over his shoulder, silent and waiting. “I suggested we keep him alive as our figurehead. I knew how you… I wouldn’t let him die.”

They faced off as they had countless times before, taking in every detail, every movement the other made. Shanks caught what looked like pain in those golden eyes, and his jaw clenched at the sight.

“That’s a pretty low bar for a friendship.”

After a heavy pause, Mihawk lowered his predator’s eyes, nodding as he looked toward Shanks’ feet. The swordsman was truly speechless now, nothing coming through until he braved looking back up when his friend broke the silence. 

“Are you gonna let me take him?”

“Of course,” he breathed, watching Shanks build up his walls again.

“What about Crocodile,” Shanks questioned. His lungs burned from it all, but his breathing slowed, still not sure what to feel about Mihawk’s words, about the emotion in those emotionless eyes. 

“He will. We promised Y/N,” Mihawk rasped. Shanks furrowed his brows, about to ask for more, so he continued. “She doesn’t want us to force him to stay if he wants to go, and we’ll honor that.”

Shanks tilted his head back, a heavy sigh forced out of him. Mihawk tried again, but he knew that none of the words that flew through his mind would help this moment. This guilt. 

“So it’s up to Buggy,” Shanks whispered before walking away, leaving Mihawk with his empty dirt. 

 

~~~🔴🗡️🔴🗡️~~~

 

“Want me to drain the life out of him,” Crocodile grumbled as he opened the door to the lounge. True laughter let your lips now, and you took in a deep breath as you hugged his waist. The pleased hum that rumbled through him felt almost too comforting as he brushed your hair from your face. “Come here, sweetheart.”

Crocodile’s desk was comically large, and you wondered if he could hide a person in the bottom drawer. He stole your focus again, offering you a seat on his lap.

Work…

It was ridiculous how eager you were, how much you craved his attention. 

“Top drawer, darlin,” he rasped, not reaching down to meet your lips as you leaned into him. 

“Okay,” you blinked, stuck for a moment before you obeyed. The heavy wood slid open, revealing your notebook with all of your contacts, and their details. Your blood chilled when you set it on the desk, his voice taking too long to question you, leaving you in the discomfort.

“Do these people know your secret?”

Your body slumped at his question, his voice not cold or angry, but still not the way you wanted him to talk to you.

He’s never going to talk to me that way again. It’s over.

Heat built up in your throat as the grief and fear you’d been ignoring all this time crashed over you. 

“Hey,” he soothed, guiding your weak body to sit on the desk, your feet dangling between his legs as he studied you. The back of his golden hook lifted your chin. That hook you knew you should still be afraid of, but instead made you sigh, savoring its cool touch. 

“I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me, babydoll,” he urged, and his sweetness brought a tiny choked sob from your throat. Then the sweetness was replaced with a steady calm, a voice that could tip either way. “I promised you that you could tell us after, but I need your word, Y/N. Give me your word that your secret won’t cause any problems at the party. If you can’t do that–”

“I’ll tell you,” you gave in, tears already racing down your cheeks, sobs too heavy to swallow were ripped from you until he pulled you to him.

“I’m sorry, sweet girl,” Crocodile whispered, only making your cries more painful. He held you as you ruined his silk vest, falling to pieces in his arms.

“I don’t want it to be over,” you finally managed, hating yourself for crying, for thinking you could have this. You met his eyes, wanting to shrivel up, and disappear from the concern and questions they held. “Can I… can I please have one more day?”

His pause felt like more weight tied to your limbs, dragging you under.

“Tomorrow,” he agreed, carrying you to the couch to stroke your hair, and call you pretty things while you tried to stuff all those tears back inside. 

 

~~~~~~

 

Crocodile stayed with you, the bandage on his palm tickling your skin as he left soothing touches on your arms and back while you cleaned yourself up. 

“How did you get hurt,” you choked, searching for anything that would get your mind off of it. “I thought you couldn’t…”

Regretting the question, you cowered under that frightening stare through the mirror. 

“I have a secret too,” he rasped, his breath slowing as he stared through you. “Can I trust you, sweetheart? Since you’re sharing yours…”

“I—” you started, body humming, tingling with fear and something else from the intensity in that deep voice. “I promise. I’ll keep your secret.”

Crocodile leaned over you, enveloping you to turn on the faucet. 

“Try to punch my hand, sweetheart.”

Questions filled you, but you obeyed, fascinated at the sight of his flesh turning to sand to avoid the blow. He reached lower, letting water rush over his fingers, coating the back of his hand. 

“Again.”

No hesitation as you followed his addictive voice, you gasped as your fist connected with the center of his palm, punching straight into the center of the bandage. 

“What—“

He went to his knees, turning you to face him, gripping your hand in his.

“Sand doesn’t flow when it’s wet,” he whispered, the dangers of what he was sharing sending chills through you. “I can’t protect you as well when liquid touches my skin. Remember that, sweetheart, but never speak of it.”

“Never,” you vowed, wanting to cry again from his trust in you. “I promise, daddy.”

 

~~~~~~

 

Your attempts to clean your grief away didn’t matter. Every other lover clocked the evidence in your eyes when lunch rolled around.

“Pretty star, you okay, baby?”

“I’ll be okay,” you probably lied, wondering if Crocodile would punish you if it never came true. Buggy wrapped his arms around you, trapping you in place as you caught Shanks’ gaze behind him. The crease between his brows could have been for anything, and you didn’t have the energy to guess what he was thinking.

“What happened,” Mihawk asked, an unfamiliar strain in that liquid voice as he sat you down beside him. He held your face, studying you so intensely it felt like your skin would go raw. 

“Y/N’s going to tell us her secret tomorrow instead of after the party, but we can discuss that in the morning,” Crocodile ordered as leaned back to blow smoke away from the group. “Let’s enjoy the day, the next few are bound to be hectic.”

Avoiding so many eyes ruined any appetite you might have had, but you did accept a few more pieces of fruit from your clown, his eyes going soft when you smiled.

 

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

 

“How the fuck am I supposed to work like this,” Buggy snapped to no one in particular, pacing as he reviewed his plans, needing everything to be perfect. 

All he could think about were Y/N’s red eyes.

And before he’d seen her like that, all he could think about was that stupid red hair. 

He checked every light, barked at every musician until they were all in tune, and snapped at the kitchen staff to coordinate dinner with the show. The clown went over every single detail until a light sheen of sweat coated his skin, making his greasepaint too shiny under the stage lights. 

Now and then, Buggy would remember that this wasn’t just a show. This was it. 

His one chance to prove that he wasn’t a worthless piece of shit.

“Which idiot left this fucking table here,” he spat, focusing on anything else. Anything but the way his pretty star had seen him bleeding on the floor, useless to protect her. Anything but the tears she must have cried today. Anything but that thing he refused to think about.

Anything but that stupid red hair.

 

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

 

“I’m sorry about this morning,” Shanks purred, lounging on a loveseat while he watched you twirl for Mihawk, still deciding what you should wear. “I think I’m–”

“An asshole,” you quipped, trying not to gloat as Crocodile’s pleased laughter floated through the suite. Mihawk just cleared his throat, fetching another dress. 

“Jealous,” Shanks confessed, eyes shining with amusement even as his voice went serious. “I’ve been a jealous brat, and I’m sorry, Y/N.”

Your mouth opened, but nothing came out for a long moment. The air was thick with the silence of the other men in the room. 

“A jealous brat, and an asshole,” you finally teased, the air shifting again as if time had reset itself. “Don’t forget that part.”

A shocked, yet playful grin hit his parted lips, then his eyes trailed down your body until you shivered. It hadn’t felt strange to stand there in lingerie until this moment, until the subtle bite he gave to his bottom lip before meeting your eyes again. 

“How could I forget, when I’ve got such a sweet little bunny to remind me?”

“Not yours,” Crocodile warned. 

“Of course,” Shanks conceded with a nod toward the larger man, though he never stopped watching you. 

Mihawk kissed your shoulder while he pulled you into another dress, and a bit of tension returned to your body as his silence continued. The instinctual fear that silence meant someone was mad at you made your stomach flip, but you couldn’t handle any more stress at the moment, so you shoved yet another feeling as far away as you could. 

You were grateful that his hands still touched you, even though his wicked voice was absent.

Shanks hopped up from the couch, his informal attire switched out for slightly less informal attire that suited him well. Darker fabrics, with no trace of sand, made his skin gleam as he sauntered over to you. He took your hand gently, leaning down as he gave you that disarming smile you’d seen when he first walked into your world.  

“Think you can forgive this jealous, bratty, asshole, Miss Y/N?,” he charmed, the force of it hitting you like a lovely ton of bricks. 

“Maybe,” you managed, unable to hold onto that bite in your voice. 

“I’ll take maybe,” he winked, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before Crocodile pulled your hand away. 

“Come on, sweetheart,” he prodded before leaning down to press a kiss to your temple. “Let’s go see our clown.”

 

~~~~~~

 

“What do you think, rabbit,” Mihawk checked in, pulling your eyes from the stage. “Will those boring, wealthy clients of yours enjoy this little show?”

Buggy was tossing daggers at his empty wheel. There was no poor soul strapped on for a spin, so Buggy called out parts of the Marine’s symbol that was freshly painted across the wood, landing every shot. Performers and dancers took turns on the small stage, music and lights bringing everything to life.

You knew Buggy was nervous, but as soon as the spotlight touched him, he was in another world. 

Your shining star. 

He led the show before and during the lavish meal, until it would be time for him to hand over the reins, time to drain as many berries as possible from the guests. His speech was the perfect amount of charming and frightening that any of those guests would be craving for their little adventure, their little holiday getaway. 

Crocodile grumbled when Buggy urged him and Mihawk to stand from their place at the long, head table beside you, shaking his head when the clown announced them as his “Executives.”

“And let’s give a round of applause for our Chief Financial Officer, the stunning and talented, Miss Y/N!”

Choking on a sip of wine, you caught Buggy’s exaggerated wink, your coughs turning to laughs as Mihawk pulled you to stand. You smiled at empty tables, pride followed by emptiness when you remembered your promise for tomorrow. 

“Sorry we didn’t have time to find a promotion gift for you, sweetheart,” Crocodile rasped as he kissed your cheek. 

“I have some ideas,” Mihawk purred, his breath teasing along your ear after he kissed your other cheek.

“Are you serious,” you laughed, your body tingling as Buggy’s head flew toward you, stealing a kiss. “I don’t need anything, this is…”

Shanks interrupted your almost tears, lifting his glass up with a shout.

“To Y/N! Buggy, can the band stick around for a bit? Your C.F.O. deserves a party!”

Buggy obeyed without a thought, and soon the air was filled with joyful music, your body starting to sway.

“May I have the first dance,” Shanks grinned, stepping around Mihawk to offer you his hand.

You could almost feel it as the bodies around you went stiff. 

“I’m a terrible dancer,” you said softly, though you couldn’t stop swaying.

“Who cares,” the Emperor laughed, the infectious sound pulling you in. “Let’s go see how much fun we can have with three hands, and three left feet.”

Your hand was in his before you realized you’d moved, and he whisked you away. No one stopped you, and soon you were giggling too much to think about why they would.

“Are you this bad too, or are you just trying to make me feel better about myself?”

“You’ll have to keep dancing to find out,” he teased before grabbing your waist, pressing his hips against you. “Maybe we just need a different dance.”

Already breathless, you stopped breathing completely when he stared down at you, pressing his hand into your lower back. You swore you could feel his pulse against your skin as you swayed together.

“I love how happy he is,” Shanks whispered, guiding you closer to the stage, the music louder with every inch. “That’s your doing, isn’t it, bunny?”

Shanks’ eyes flicked back to you from over your shoulder, and he rotated your bodies so you could look for yourself. You’d already seen Buggy laying across the table in front of Crocodile and Mihawk, alternating between watching and cheering you on, and animatedly talking to his “Executives” about the show. Now you noticed Mihawk massaging Buggy’s disconnected hand the way he always does for you when you’re sitting beside him. A tentative warmth surged through your chest, even though Mihawk dropped Buggy’s hand when he caught you looking.

“You’re running from something, aren’t you?”

The heat in his almost silent voice, and the way he guided your body against his confused the icy fear that those words shot through you. You gasped, almost moaning when he flipped you around, his knees bent a bit as he rubbed against you from behind. His fingers dug into your hip with such strength and control that your body ached to feel them inside you right there on the dancefloor. 

He leaned down, breathing against your ear, the music vibrating through you with so much force that you could barely hear him. 

“There’s no better place to run than the sea. You can be free, Y/N, and we can make him happy together. We can live his dre–”

“Mind if I cut in?”

A voice as sharp as a blade chilled your blood, but Shanks didn’t let you go just yet. He hugged you to him, kissing your cheek, and you could feel a smile on his lips before he released you. His thumb rubbed over your fingers as he lifted your hand to place into Mihawk’s, who held his outstretched while he watched Shanks’ every move.

What happened? Why are they so–

“Hello, darling,” Mihawk purred, interrupting your thoughts as he pulled your body against his. You smiled up at him weakly, moving how his hands pushed and pulled. 

“What’s wrong, pet?”

Shaking out of your daze, you blinked up into those golden, searching eyes.

“Noth–”

Fingers like daggers pressed into your back, pulling away in an instant, your gasp lasting longer than the pain. Those eyes were wide now as he scanned your face, and you held your breath.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, the words sounding strange, as if he’d just learned them. “I’d hate to tattle on you, rabbit. Although I must confess, I am morbidly curious to see what daddy does to liars.”

A nervous laugh left your throat, and he gave you a few moments to breathe as he guided your steps around the gleaming floor. 

“I’m sorry. I’m just worried,” you managed, knowing that wouldn’t be enough. His stare confirmed it, so you tried to find a way to hide without lying. 

I can’t tell them. What if they’re angry? What if they fight, or kick him out? What if Buggy can't live his dream because of me?

What if I want to—

You shut down your thoughts, the sound of Buggy’s joyful voice pulling your eyes away.

“I’m worried about what’s gonna happen with…”

Mihawk followed your line of sight, catching the old lovers laughing. Shanks’ hand rested on Buggy’s thigh while he listened to the clown’s stories, the adoration on his face so vivid it was almost funny.

Almost funny, if not for the fact that the look on Buggy’s face was starting to match it more with each passing minute in the red haired pirate’s company. 

“Is my old friend hurting you, love?”

Mihawk had stopped dancing you, tilting your chin up toward him.

“Only by existing,” you laughed, not sure if you were dizzy from dancing, or from the chaos of emotions that Shanks had made you feel since he’d invaded your life the day before. 

“Come on, Miss C.F.O.” Shanks beamed. His eyes were obscured by Buggy’s extravagant hat, sitting askew on that pretty red hair. “It’s afterparty time!”

The two of them dragged you along, almost pulling you into your old suite before other hands pulled you back into the hallway. 

“You wanna sleep in there again,” Crocodile asked, and you almost felt fear as his frustration with your guest had seemed to build and build. But all you had to do was tell him what you wanted. 

“I do,” you breathed, going on tiptoes even though you’d never be able to reach his lips on your own. “Goodnight, daddy.”

His annoyed huff held a bit of satisfaction after your words, and you melted into the kiss he gave you. 

“I’m right next door, sweet girl.”

Mihawk pulled you aside, and you waited for evil, filthy words as he pressed you against the wall of the corridor, everyone else already in their chosen suites. It was hard to tell on his bored face that he’d worn most of the day, but he seemed to be frowning at you as he ran his fingers through your hair before cradling your face. 

He didn’t say anything for too long, until you flinched at the burst of laughter from the middle suite. 

“You are not a pet.”

“W-what–”

“You are not a toy,” Mihawk continued, those whispered words sounding vicious, speeding your pulse. “Do you understand?”

You lied with a nod, not knowing what else to say to those burning, golden eyes. 

“May I kiss you,” he breathed after staring at you some more. He tasted your lips as soon as you gave another nod. 

“Mmn,” you moaned into his mouth, eyes rolling back as he kissed you with all that wicked passion you crave from him. His fingers curled into your hair, and he bit your lip before letting his tongue claim you again. 

You were whimpering, whining now, gasping as he lifted you. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you lost yourself as he growled against your lips, grinding himself against your core.

“Mihawk…”

His teeth were on your neck, biting deep, biting until your body tightened with need. That sharp, growing pain was its own pleasure, and you pulled at his soft, black hair until he moaned around your skin. Slick was smearing over his leather pants, your dress hiking up until your drenched cunt rubbed over the fabric, nothing but lace panties in the way.

“Always so greedy,” Shanks purred, leaning against the doorframe. His voice was light, a friendly tease, but the hallway felt sickeningly heavy, like gravity had increased, and you’d all be crushed to the floor.

Mihawk released your neck from his teeth, but pressed his forehead against the wall for a few seconds, leaving you to stare at Shanks, then Buggy over his shoulder, and then Crocodile who opened the other door to scowl at the scene. The swordsman lowered you gently, smoothing your dress into place, and whispering in your ear while he fixed your mussed hair. 

“Just say my name,” he breathed before turning around, failing to fix his own mussed up hair.

“The little rabbit and I were just saying goodnight,” he brushed off, heading toward the door. “See you all in the morning.”

Everyone stared as he left, until Crocodile frowned at you. You gave a weak smile and a shrug, and he narrowed his eyes, but let Buggy pull you along. 

Two doors shut, leaving that heavy air to fester in the corridor.

 

~~~🐊🗡️🐊🗡️~~~

 

“What the fuck was that about?”

Mihawk didn’t reply, refusing any thoughts until he had a glass of wine. Something to sip, something to hold, something to stare at.

“Hawk Eyes,” Crocodile growled, moving to loom over the man who’d just gulped down a glass of wine he’d normally savor before pouring another. “What happened? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the world’s greatest swordsman is throwing a tantrum.”

Mihawk barked a laugh, walking away from the larger man without looking up to meet his eyes. 

“You may be right,” he said wistfully, wandering through the suite until he stopped at the heavy trunks they hadn’t finished unpacking. He lifted one of the lids, revealing the pile of fantasy books Crocodile had gifted Y/N. 

Mihawk frowned at the colorful covers, thinking about his own gift. He’d remembered that she said she loved cats.

But he would have gotten Adam for himself anyway. 

Crocodile’s body was on edge, waiting for danger as he observed the man before him. It was still Mihawk, still powerful, graceful, yet his usual faces of boredom or vicious glee were dulled, and Crocodile did not fucking like it. 

Mihawk ran his fingers over one of the covers, tracing the shape of a dragon before he snatched the book up. He could feel the other man’s steely eyes as he plopped onto the loveseat by that connecting wall, a new one brought in since the scotch covered sofa had stunk up the whole suite.

Crocodile sat beside him, still watching, still waiting as Mihawk sipped his wine, and tried to read about dragons and heroes.

“Should I just guess what’s gotten your panties in a twist?”

A brief exhale, and an almost smile left the man who turned a page he hadn’t read. Still, he put it all away. Put everything away.

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what you need, little bird.”

Golden eyes shot up toward Crocodile, as if he’d offered a threat instead of whatever those words were. 

Crocodile bit his tongue, refusing to look away, and reveal the discomfort he felt as those words slipped past his better judgment. 

Mihawk had never had a day like this. A day when sharp words wouldn’t leave his lips, when sharp blades could do nothing for him. A day filled with so much guilt it made him unsteady. There were plenty of guilty days to forget or regret, but this one felt violent, urgent, and he didn’t know what to do with it all. 

What to do with Y/N.

The words, “Shanks is right,” played on a loop, until his mind was sick of everything but wine. 

“I don’t like the silent treatment.”

There wasn’t real danger, Mihawk’s body didn’t register it. Yet Crocodile fisted his hair, yanking his neck back to expose his throat until that sharp point kissed it, cold metal ready to spill red.

Mihawk had dropped the book onto his lap, though never dropped a glass of precious wine, especially over his clothes. His lips parted, forgetting everything in his mind for just a moment as that scarred face lowered over his.

“Are you gonna tell daddy what’s wrong, or do I need to tear it out of you?”

The swordsman’s body went loose, his eyes rolling back as Crocodile pressed their cheeks together, rubbing along his skin as he breathed in the scent of him. 

“Don’t make me ask again.”

Crocodile released him, brushing his thumb over those pretty lips while Mihawk caught his breath. The satisfaction that pulsed through Crocodile at the other man’s fluttering eyes was intense, piercing, and he had to hold himself still. 

Had to remind himself that he needed to know what the fuck was going on.

Mihawk hated how much he missed the touch of that hand when it was removed from his skin. Hated how needy, how fucking weak he was. Hated that no matter what he did, he would be betraying someone. Hated having to decide who it would be. 

Hated the sick wish that he could stop caring again, that he could treat everything as meaningless. 

That was how he ended up here in the first place. 

Finally, he took another large swig of wine, choosing to side with the friend that would never forgive him. Even though he might lose everything. 

“I have come to the unpleasant realization that I am a bad person,” Mihawk drawled, his voice almost perfect as he straightened up.

The deep, overwhelming laughter of the man beside him made him forget the world again, shock and annoyance pouring through him. 

“I didn’t realize my existential crisis would be so amusing to–”

“Where do you think you are,” Crocodile choked out, still laughing as he wiped a bit of moisture from his eyes. He gestured to the suite, to himself, shaking his head. “Did you forget what this fucking Guild is for? We are all very bad people.”

Mihawk’s mouth hung slack for a moment, until his head fell back. Laughter, thick as honey, filled the air between them, until his hand grazed the book in his lap, tracing over that colorful dragon. 

Crocodile couldn’t shake the feeling that the swordsman was holding things back. He wanted to pull until he got the whole truth, but there was something in Mihawk’s eyes that made him quiet, made him want to see the man with that wicked smile again first.

“Come on, little prince,” Crocodile soothed as he stood, holding out his hand. “Wanna show me what a bad person you are?”

A tiny version of that smile graced those lips, and Crocodile inhaled pride as he stared down at his little prince. 

His breath caught at the thought, at all these dangerous, stupid, distracting thoughts. 

“Thank you, daddy,” Mihawk purred, his voice breathy as he held himself under his mountain of guilt. “But I had hoped to rest and listen tonight, if that’s alright?”

Crocodile nodded, unease flooding his veins again. He tried to convince himself that it was nothing. 

“How are they doing in there,” he asked softly, wanting to shake the man, but not wanting to push their new arrangement too far. 

“Oh, they’re having a wonderful time,” Mihawk reported. The words that would have been tasty the night before were like ashes on his tongue, and he went to pour himself another glass so he could stomach listening. 

Mihawk just brought the bottle with him, drowning while he listened to Shanks steal away both of his shiny new toys.

Hoping that Crocodile wouldn’t hate him for letting it happen.

 

~~~🐊🗡️🐊🗡️~~~

 

“Afterparty,” Buggy yelled, pressing that sexy music tone dial before floating you through the air. Giggling, you reached for him, pulling his hair loose to flow around you both. 

“You were amazing, Bugs,” you grinned, the tension of the hallway forgotten when he looked at you. 

“Of course I was,” he agreed, making you gasp when he connected with his lower body to press you onto the bed. His weight was such a perfect relief from every worried thought you wanted to burn. 

Shanks sat on the corner of the bed, but Buggy distracted you, kissing across your face, your chest, humming until you squirmed beneath him. He went still, his face hovering above yours with one of your favorite smiles. Soft and sweet, his crystal blue eyes dancing over your features as if needing to catch every slight movement, every piece of you. 

“Bug–”

“You’re my shining star, Y/N,” he confessed, a reverent tone in his voice that made you shake your head, twisting under him. 

“I thought you were the shining star,” you purred, struggling as he trapped your arms, holding your body down. “You’re the shining star of the show, and I’m the pretty star by your side, helping you shine.”

Buggy’s eyes looked down as he quirked his fading red lips, and your cheerful tease felt wrong. Anxiety started to fill you until he met your eyes again. He kissed you slowly, deep and thorough, savoring every bit of you until you whimpered, then you tasted his smile before he pulled back. 

“You’re my shining star, baby,” he whispered, squeezing your cheeks before kissing your puckered lips. “You’re my everything.”

Joy was everywhere as Buggy kissed your lips, then down your neck and shoulders, both of you laughing as you pulled him to you. 

You went cold when you remembered what the morning held, desperate to hang onto this feeling for as long as you could. Your head relaxed to the side as you tried to breathe out those thoughts, and you found Shanks observing you. You felt bare before him, like he could see through every uncomfortable feeling you tried to shove down. 

“She’s your star, huh, Buggy,” he purred, trailing his hand through Buggy’s hair until he stopped kissing your neck to look at the red haired man. 

“Of course she is,” Buggy bragged, tracing a gloved finger around your face. “Just look at her.”

His name left your lips in nothing more than a whimper, and you loved the way it made him straighten, his chin raising slightly as if your voice could lift him up. 

“I watched you feeding her fruit all day,” Shanks’ voice shifted, moving his hand down Buggy’s arm to his wrist before pulling those gloved fingers up to kiss his knuckles. “You were getting her ready for me, weren’t you? Want me to taste your shining star? Make her scream for you?”

Buggy lifted off of you, sitting back on his heels. His hungry eyes looked back and forth between you and his old friend, and you knew it was true. 

“Mm, I knew it,” Shanks rasped, now pulling your hand up for a kiss, staring heat into your skin. “Buggy wants me to taste you. Can I please taste you, little bunny?”

The weight of both of their stares tore you free from the world. You had to say yes. 

“Please.”

“Such a good girl,” Shanks praised, moving between your legs as Buggy helped you out of your dress, your bra, stopping there when Shanks reached out. “Hold on, friend. These are too pretty to get rid of so soon.”

He followed that order by pressing his hand down over the top of your thigh, and rubbing his thumb up and down over your lace covered clit. 

“Please,” you gasped, back arching when Buggy pinned your wrists. He sat behind your head, facing Shanks across your body, and you could see his breathing shift while he stared at the other man.

“Bunny’s being so polite,” Shanks taunted, his voice laced with danger that had your heart racing, “but if you don’t tell me what you’re begging for, I’ll just have to guess.”

He emphasized his threat by pressing his thumb into your desperate, clothed cunt, the lace panties straining under the pressure of his touch. 

“Please, taste me,” you choked out, catching Buggy’s face above you as he scraped his lip though his teeth. 

“My pleasure,” Shanks teased, tugging that fabric down your hips until Buggy’s hands floated down to help. “You know what she likes. Gonna teach me, Buggy?”

“Fuck,” Buggy breathed whiled he watched Shanks setting himself up between your legs. “Fuck yeah. Kiss her clit first, Shanks. Lick and suck her like candy.”

“Anything you say, Bugs,” Shanks agreed, pressing that charming mouth to your core, and your mind couldn’t decide which name to moan, mixing sounds together. “Gods, she’s so sweet for me, Buggy.”

“Quit talking, and make my girl come,” Buggy demanded, grinning at you when his words made you moan. He kept giving Shanks commands, until you were shaking, and those brown eyes stared up at you with so much focus, it made you dizzy before you screamed, coming all over that charming face. 

“Pretty bunny,” Shanks hummed as he moved up your body. He kissed the taste of you into your mouth before leaning toward Buggy. They kissed above you, the sight making you whine. 

“Looks like she needs some more attention," Shanks whispered at Buggy, until they both smirked down at you. “Wanna teach me how to finger your pretty girl now? I bet you know her pretty pussy so well, huh? Know just how to make her scream?”

“Buggy…”

“You hear that, star,” Buggy bragged, kissing along your ear. “I’m gonna do a magic trick. Make you come without even touching my pretty girl. You want that, baby?”

“Yes, ple–”

“Shove two fingers inside her right now,” he ordered, and you cried out when his words came true. “Spread her out. You feel that perfect cunt, Shanks?”

“Fuck, yes, Buggy,” Shanks rasped while he scissored those fingers inside you, spreading and feeling around, exploring. “She feels–”

“Wreck her. Make her scream,” Buggy growled. 

Buggy sent one hand to trap both of yours, and pressed the other down on your lower stomach. You glanced down just in time to see the spark in Shanks’ eyes when Buggy commanded him, and then his fingers were so fucking deep. 

“You heard him, bunny,” Shanks taunted, a wicked laugh as his strong fingers fucked you until you forgot your name. “You gonna scream for him now, or do I need to shove my whole fist into this sweet, little pussy?”

“Fuck,” you moaned, then screamed as his fingers curled inside you, his thumb attacking your clit. Buggy laughed before kissing you, inhaling your screams until you twitched all the way through that pleasure, twitched until it was too much. 

“Bugs, did we kill your star,” Shanks teased in mock horror, lifting and dropping your limp arm. 

“Nuh uh, my baby can go all night, huh,” Buggy praised, kissing your cheek while you tried, and failed to move. “She just needs a little break.”

“Breaks are nice,” the red haired pirate hummed. He laid next to you, trailing his hand along your body, and you sighed as Buggy laid on your other side. Their bodies, their voices, their heat, everything helped. Everything was good. 

“I know you like to watch,” Shanks rasped, speaking to Buggy before directing his voice, and his wicked gaze to you. “But how about you, Y/N? Do you like to watch your shining star?”

“I–”

“Yeah, she does,” Buggy bragged, interrupting you before kissing your cheek. “You got in soo much trouble. Remember, baby? You couldn’t take your eyes off of me and Mihawk.”

You almost missed it when your eyes fluttered at the memory, but Shanks’ jaw clenched at Buggy’s playful words, his fingers pressing into your skin for a moment. 

“Do you wanna watch us, bunny? Watch me make your shining star feel good?”

Shanks’ request sounded light, sounded like fun, but you felt it. You felt the pain in him, and you watched him blink and move his eyes around, trying to hide it. He failed, those brown eyes heavy on yours until you smiled. 

“I wanna watch.”

 

~~~🔴🤡🔴🤡~~~

 

Y/N’s voice was so sweet, so sweet when she said those words. 

And now Shanks was crawling over him, and Buggy stopped thinking. 

This couldn’t be real.

Shanks stared down at his old friend, his old lover, wanting to kiss Y/N again for giving consent. For giving permission for this moment right now. 

“Can I make you scream now, Bugs,” Shanks asked, tracing his fingers around Buggy’s face, his jaw. 

“You can try,” Buggy taunted back, but his hands had already flown away to grab a towel and lube, dropping them in front of Shanks with a grin. 

“Come here,” the red head growled, lunging forward to grab that beautiful blue hair. Kissing Buggy almost hurt from how unreal it felt. Years and years poured into each other, and Shanks straddled his old friend, uselessly pinning one of his wrists above his head. 

Dizzy. 

So fucking dizzy. 

Buggy knew he hadn’t drank enough tonight to feel like this. His gloved hands were shaking as they ran over Shanks’ bare skin beneath his loose shirt, and he couldn’t think clearly. Every time he almost had a thought, a hungry noise from his old friend’s throat would make him frantic. 

“Can I help you out of these,” Shanks purred, his eyes sparkling with old laughter as he sat back to grab one of Buggy’s hands. 

Buggy’s eyes flicked to Y/N, and her gorgeous smile made everything alright. 

“Mhm,” Buggy nodded as he tugged one of his gloves off with his teeth. Shanks did the same with the other hand, biting down, and pulling at the fabric.

“There’s my Bugs,” he breathed, kissing those bare fingers. “You don’t need to hide from me.”

A hint of ice flashed across Buggy’s face, and though the clown caught and killed it, giving a smile to cover it up, Shanks felt that ice slide down into his gut. 

“I’m—“

“Don’t you have something you’re supposed to be doing right now, shithead,” Buggy stopped him with a laugh, tracing along his waistband. “Or are you here to break more promises?”

“Take your clothes off, clown,” Shanks ordered, heat and happiness in his voice. The two of them stood, almost stumbling off the bed with a laugh while their hands searched and freed each other's bodies. Buggy turned to do a silly strip tease for Y/N, earning another beautiful smile as she bit her lip. 

Buggy almost leapt for her, but strong fingers fisted into his hair again, pulling him into another chaotic kiss. 

“Lie on your back. I wanna see your face when you make all those pretty noises for me.”

Shanks’ whispered command burned along his skin, making Buggy’s knees weak. Shanks used that opening to shove him onto the bed, finding his way between those thighs. The red haired pirate sat back on his heels as he watched Buggy’s chest heaving, his body already writhing. Smeared red lips, and sparkling, hungry eyes made the breath catch in his throat. 

This moment was frozen, crystallized in Shanks’ mind. A moment of elation and gratitude, shot through with grief that it would be the last. He swallowed that fear, refusing to believe it. 

Refusing to lose him again. 

“Well,” Buggy prodded, breathless as he gave an impatient face.

“Lube,” Shanks smirked as he held out his hand. Buggy’s floating hands filled his palm, then dropped the bottle as Shanks grabbed Buggy’s swollen cock instead of his own. “Couldn’t resist. You’ve got the prettiest clown dick I’ve ever seen.”

“Fuck yo–” Buggy started, his words cut off by his own gasping moan when Shanks massaged a lubed finger around his asshole before pushing it inside him, slowly adding another. 

“Don’t worry, Bugs,” Shanks taunted as he watched Buggy’s face go desperate. “Help me get ready, I’ll give you what you need.”

The clown sent his hands to rub lube onto that veiny cock, just the touch of it making his eyes roll back. Thoughts kept trying to roll in now, to ruin this, but he shoved everything away. Right now their bodies were together, their bodies were taking pleasure, giving pleasure, and it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but those soft, and dangerous eyes. 

No more words. No more teasing. 

Buggy held his thighs aside easily, all that circus flexibility having so many benefits, and helped Shanks line himself up. The touch of him, barely any pressure yet, was too much, not enough.

Shanks caught Buggy’s eyes as he sank into him inch by inch. He didn’t have to say it. Buggy kept those eyes on his, and Shanks felt the pleasure of watching Buggy fight not to break eye contact. The look of frantic, painful need on his clown’s face felt even better than that perfect tight pressure around his cock.

“You feel so fucking good, Buggy,” Shanks praised, falling forward onto his hand so he could be closer while he started to move, to fuck, to make Buggy moan. He was thrusting harder, more desperate with every breath. “How’s that feel, baby? Needed my cock, didn’t you?”

“Fuck, ye– fuck, please.”

“Please,” Shanks purred, slowing to smile down, noticing the matching sheens of sweat on their skin. “I want you, Buggy. I want you inside me right–”

Buggy’s cock floated out from between their bodies, his hands going so fast as he lubed himself up, then shoved fingers into Shanks ass while he laughed and moaned, still fucking into him. 

“Oh gods, yes,” Shanks breathed, pausing his movements while Buggy started filling him, taking him, fucking him. Shanks' eyes rolled white, throwing his head back as he started his rhythm again. 

Nothing could compare to this.

Not when he looked down into those perfect eyes, tears forming at the corners while his moans got louder with every rough thrust. Not when he lost himself inside Buggy’s body, while Buggy took and gave it all to him too. 

“Come inside me, Buggy, I need to feel you,” Shanks begged as his body fell apart, almost there, but not wanting it to end. “Gods, I missed you so fucking much, baby.”

“Shanks…” Buggy whined, feeling the insane moment of pleasure when they came inside each other, the heat and force of their come bringing wild, needy moans from their throats. 

Dripping with sweat now, they relearned how to breathe, still twitching inside each other. Buggy started to move, but Shanks dropped from his hand to his elbow beside Buggy’s head, pausing to look at him before he lowered his sweaty face down, kissing those faded red lips. 

Neither had any thoughts in that moment. They finally won that battle in their minds, that battle to enjoy this moment for what it was. Whatever it was. 

That kiss was the only thing in the world. 

 

~~~🔴🤡🔴🤡~~~

 

You weren’t breathing. You had no idea when you’d stopped, or if you’d ever start again. You might die on the edge of that bed, suffocating without ever making a sound. 

They wouldn’t even notice I died.

Bile rose up your throat at that hateful thought. 

It didn’t make sense. You felt so fucking selfish, so disgusting. What gave you the right to feel jealous? After everything Buggy went through, everything you put him through… 

They still haven’t noticed me. 

Entitled. Stupid. Ungrateful bitch. 

So many words and emotions flew through your mind, the speed and chaos of them only making your nausea worse. Anger, jealousy, self pity. 

You fought to keep your face neutral in case they remembered you were there, but your lip quivered, replaying every beautiful fucking moment. 

They love each other so much. 

Swallowing a sob, you dug your nails into your palms. 

I can’t have love. I can never have love.

All you wanted to do was disappear. 

“How’s my star,” Buggy asked, his voice shaky as he pulled away from his lover. 

“Beautiful, that’s how,” Shanks praised, mirroring Buggy as they moved in to kiss your cheeks. 

Liar. I’m a liar. 

Your practiced smile, your fake happiness that was trained into you since childhood lifted your lips, and you filled your eyes with as much of the truth as you could. You were happy for them. 

Part of you was, at least. 

Yawning instead of speaking, you let Buggy kiss you, giggling as he carried you to the shower. You felt lost, empty, trapped in an echoey room, only vaguely aware of the world outside. 

Buggy laid you on the soft carpet while they struggled to change the sheets, laughter, and insults, and deep, heated kisses kept interrupting their task until you wanted to scream. 

I just want to disappear. 

“Mihawk,” you breathed, hoping he could hear you over their laughter and moans as Shanks kissed along Buggy’s neck. 

“May I come in?”

The room froze at the knock, and the cold voice on the other side of the door. The lovers stepped away from each other before Buggy sent his hand to the doorknob. 

“What is it,” Shanks asked, his own voice drained of all the mirth it had held tonight. 

“Sir Crocodile,” Mihawk cleared his throat before his eyes found yours. “He’s tired of sleeping without his sweet girl. Would you mind, darling? You know how cranky he gets.”

“O-okay…”

Buggy came to your side, helping you up since your wobbly limbs didn’t seem to work anymore. 

“Thank you,” Shanks breathed into your ear before Buggy carried you to your golden eyed lover. “You’re amazing, Y/N.”

His sweet words brought back the bile in your throat, and you thought you might explode if you had to hold up that performative happiness any longer. 

Get me out of here.

“Goodnight, my shining star,” Buggy hummed, pressing a kiss to your temple before placing you in Mihawk’s arms. He smiled at you, but didn’t wait for you to say anything in return before closing the door. 

“Shh,” Mihawk soothed, almost silent while you started to shake in his arms. 

It was just a few steps to the other door, which flew open as Crocodile stood waiting, anger radiating off of him. 

“What the fuck happened? Get out of my–”

“They didn’t hurt her, Crocodile,” Mihawk sighed, walking into the room, and softly kicking the door shut behind him. “At least not on purpose. You’re okay, right, love?”

You were gone now, everything was foggy, and nothing mattered. It was nice.

“Why do you smell like four different wines?”

Both of them paused before Crocodile sat on the edge of the bed, deep, belly laughs filling the air. Mihawk looked half annoyed, and half pleased, eyes dancing over your face. 

“Five actually, but I’m impressed. My lovely, little bloodhound,” he purred as he laid you in the center of that giant bed. Stroking your hair, he whispered the words that finally broke you. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

It was a silent, choked nothing at first, your body almost heaving as it tried to fight. Heat built and rolled through your throat until burning tears finally fell, and it felt like the bile would soon follow.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Crocodile calmed, sliding in beside you until they both touched your skin, both watched you struggle to breath around tears that made you sick. “Tell me what you need, Y/N. Anything for my sweet girl.”

You almost begged for them to make the night end, but knew the morning would bring fresh, new pain. Your last night before it was over, and you spent it twitching with pathetic, quiet sobs, unable to ask these men for help. Their comfort only made it worse, and after tomorrow, they would never look at you this way again. 

Would they still care if you cried? Would they use you just like everyone else?

Would they send you back?

They held you now as you lived in this torture of a night you needed to end, and a morning you needed to never begin. 

Somehow sleep ripped you from the world, shoving you back onto stormy seas. You hung on for dear life, waiting for that voice to call your name. 

That voice didn’t call tonight. 

Notes:

Writing this chapter was such a blast! Helped me through a tough week, and pushed me to write outside of my comfort zone. I would be eternally grateful if you tell me how you felt about the drama! I've been going nuts holding all this in 😅 Also, sorry about the big pile of emotions!! 😭

Chapter 19: Not a Sound

Summary:

You reveal your secret.

Notes:

Thank you soo much for all of the support and encouragement, especially with the last chapter! I hope you enjoy this one! 😭💜🙏🏼

(BIG DRAMA & EMOTIONS WARNING)

“Can I have a drink?”

Four powerful pirates blinked at you. 

It was strange to be on this side of the coffee table. Buggy sat in your spot on the couch between the other leaders of the Guild, while Shanks had pulled up a chair beside Crocodile.

Your green, velvet chair felt like an examination table. Like you were under a microscope, about to get chopped into tiny pieces to be studied. 

Buggy had clung to you all morning, barely going a moment without touching you during breakfast. You were grateful he hadn’t tried to feed you any fruit. That thought sent your eyes flicking toward the red haired pirate, more bile climbing up your throat. Buggy’s floating hand rested on yours while they all stared, but you couldn’t get yourself to hold onto it. 

“What would you like to–”

“I’ll get it,” you jumped up, cutting Mihawk off, and leaving Buggy’s hand to float alone when you pushed it away to stand. The little bar felt like miles away, and you grabbed the first thing you could see. Crocodile’s stinky scotch in its pretty crystal bottle. You poured a heaping glass, vaguely hearing a reaction from the couch before you chugged the burning liquor.

“What the fuck, baby?”

“Y/N, stop!”

“Don’t— rabbit!”

The three of them surrounded you, snagging the bottle and empty glass from your hands too late while you coughed from that toxic, liquid fire. Crocodile got to you first, kneeling out from the sand at your feet to grab your flushed face, wiping away the stinging tears that you knew wouldn’t be the last. 

“Sweetheart, why–”

“Sweetheart,” you choked out, the sound a mix between a laugh and a sob. “Gods, I’m sorry, I– fuck.” 

The looks on their faces made you want to scream. You rubbed your eyes with the meat of your palms, trying to be less fucking pathetic. 

“Drink, love,” Mihawk soothed, holding a glass of water to your lips. 

“We’re right here, star,” Buggy whispered as he pressed a light kiss to your shoulder. “I’ve got you.”

“It’s okay,” Crocodile promised, leaning his forehead against yours. “You’re our Numbers Girl, no matter what. Alright?”

Your body slumped, nodding as you let them guide you back under that microscope. Shanks was staring at you, but nothing meant anything anymore, so you didn’t bother to study his face. 

They let you sit there. Time was empty. It could have been minutes or years before you finally mustered up the energy to ruin everything.

“I’m fucking stupid,” you announced with a sharp laugh, feeling insane. 

Maybe I am. Maybe he did put me away. 

“Don’t talk like tha–”

“What do you mean, sweet girl?”

“You.”  

Growling at your scarred lover, confessions, and a suicidal accusation flowed through your body, spilling out through your eyes and lips. 

“You were going to kill us if I wasn’t useful. I could have been free, but I… I called those people for you.”

Crocodile’s face was as cold and unmoving as stone, a cliff you could leap off of. 

If only you could have stopped. No one said a word, but the energy was already rolling through you, destroying everything, your throat still raw from that fucking scotch. 

“I was an idiot. I was fucking kidding myself thinking I could wait, thinking I could have a few more days.” Your manic laughter turned to pain, a sob hitting your last words. 

Glancing up at the couch, you saw your three men clenching their jaws. Crocodile’s arm was wrapped around Buggy, that large hand digging into Mihawk’s shoulder, while Mihawk had grabbed Buggy’s floating hand, gripping it in his own lap before it could fly to you. 

“There’s no way I could hide it. Someone at the party will say it…”

“Say what,” Buggy rasped after a long moment. 

Your eyes poured over your men one more time before it was over. 

“My name.”

Everyone paused, and you remembered Shanks was there. His face was a mask, unreadable, and you were grateful for another reason to ignore it. 

“Are you saying that your name is a lie,” Crocodile asked in a dangerous purr. 

“No. None of you ever asked what my last name was,” you pointed out, then laughed as you looked between them. “I guess pirates don’t really care about last names.”

The laughter died in your throat, tears streaming now in your moment of defeat. 

“What’s your name,” Mihawk asked, his voice more gentle than you’d ever heard. 

It’s over. 

“Y/N Sylvad.”

…

…

…

“Like the wood company?”

You clamped your hands over your mouth, the shock of laughter that burst through you at Buggy’s confused face, his cute question, almost had you believing it would be alright. 

But the other men in the room shifted. Crocodile pulled his arm away from the other two to rest his elbows on his knees, leaning toward you while he answered his clown.

“Not a company. A fucking empire. Sylvad’s Lumber and Shipping. Is that what you’re telling us right now?”

“Yes,” you breathed, already watching their eyes change. Already watching them forget who you were. 

“Keep going,” he ordered, his words cold, ice building up around you. 

“It’s not mine,” you begged them to believe you. “Dad died and…”

You couldn’t. You didn’t know where to start, or if it even mattered now. 

“Arbo Sylvad was your dad,” Shanks murmured, sitting up a little straighter while he studied you. 

“You’re Sylvad’s heiress.”

“No, I'm not,” you snapped at Mihawk, not caring when his golden eyes flared at you. “Uncle Cedrick got everything. Dad always said it would go to… I was fifteen when he…”

Crocodile’s silver eyes were like molten metal, and you choked on your grief as you watched him stand. He walked to that giant desk of his, and when he returned to drop your thick notebook in your lap, you flinched, bracing for pain. 

“Unreliable,” he growled, tapping the notebook with his hook as he brought his eyes down to yours, his frightening face so close. 

“Everything I said was true,” you pleaded, mind blanking out with fear while Mihawk came to touch Crocodile’s shoulder. He didn’t budge, and though your mouth went dry, you forced yourself to explain. “Those people are unreliable! They'd talk to people that could cause problems for the Guild. People with connections to the Marines.”

“Like your Uncle?”

“What do you mean, boss,” Buggy tried to redirect, his hand on the hook that was digging into the back of the chair, his body leaning against the larger man’s shoulder. “They just sell trees and stuff, right?”

“Every single Marine ship on the fucking water right now was built with Sylvad wood,” Crocodile fumed, Mihawk’s hand stroking along his arm as you shrank beneath those silver eyes. “Hells, almost every ship that sails out of Water 7 is built with that lumber.”

“I don’t get it,” Shanks complained from his chair, though you couldn’t see him past the angry man in front of you. “If you’re the heiress of Sylvad’s, why were you working? You were an accountant or something, right?”

“Investment banker,” Buggy bragged, and you almost smiled that he remembered. “My girl’s a fancy financial advisor.”

“Let’s give our girl some breathing room, Crocodile. We don’t know everything yet.”

You only heard Mihawk’s whispered words because Crocodile was a hair's breadth away. He brought his thumb to rub along one of your cheeks, and the back of his hook to smooth along the other. 

“Tell daddy everything, alright, sweetheart?”

Your eyes fluttered shut until he pressed into your cheeks, slow tears falling from your eyes when you nodded for him. 

“Yes, daddy.”

The warm kiss he pressed to your temple made you want to disappear. Nothing. Nothing ever again. 

You were barely there as the words fell from your lips. Eyes unfocused, hanging loosely around the little table by Mihawk’s seat. You smiled to yourself when you realized it looked strange without a glass of wine on it. 

“Dad died on a business trip. Freak storm. Left everything to Uncle Cedrick. Kat and I got our trust funds for school. Mom got nothing.”

“I think we’ll need more than that, little rabbit,” Mihawk cautioned as he glanced over at Crocodile's stern face. 

“Can I have a drink fir–”

“No,” said the three men on the couch. 

Holding your head in your hands for a bit, you tried to figure out how to say the least amount of painful words to get them to leave you alone. 

“Uncle took us in. He was such a caring person, taking in his brother’s poor daughters, his lonely wife,” you spat, venom dripping from your lips. “I didn’t want to belong to him. My trust fund paid for the best education out there, but all my friends stopped… When they knew I had nothing to give them, they treated me like shit. I kept doing what I'm good at, and I got the fuck out. Went to go live that stupid, boring life.” 

Growling with the frustration of spilling this pathetic, entitled trash, you stood to pace behind your chair, waving your notebook around as if you could make it burst into flames with your will alone. 

“I am fucking amazing at my job, but most of these people just looove the thought of the poor little heiress helping them get richer. Most of them can’t wait to put me in their little collection. Add me to their fucking shelf. Just gotta ask Uncle how much his little niece– FUCK!”

The notebook went flying, skidding across the floor while you shoved the heavy chair over, yelling, raging, kicking that stupid green chair until your shoes fell off, your toes fucking hurt, until your clown stopped you.

“Baby, please,” he soothed, his upper body floating to keep your struggling form from reaching anything on the ground to hit. “It’s okay, star, I’m right here. Fuck those assholes, right? Who needs ‘em!”

Part of you felt guilty for not laughing at his sweet attempt, but the rest of you needed to fight or flee. 

Flee from these powerful men that were already using you to make money. 

“Put me down!”

Buggy’s whispered, “star,” hurt like hell. You held yourself still when he set you down gently, back in your spot as you faced the couch again, although your chair was kicked off to the side. 

“Wanna know how high to set the ransom,” you challenged, your clenched fists shaking at your sides. You couldn’t think clearly enough to read their darkened eyes, even Buggy’s as he took his place between them. “Just so you know, Uncle doesn’t like me that much. He’d probably be happier if you killed me. Or you could buy me, that’d make him extra hap–”

Sand. 

Sand flooded the space around you. It lifted you off the ground, and your breath caught as the coffee table got thrown to the side. You met those silver eyes just before you were in his arms, your legs stretched across the laps of the other men on the couch. 

“What…” you wondered, mind in a daze.

“You thought I’d sell my sweet girl,” Crocodile hummed, kissing the top off your head.

“You told me you would,” you reminded, your body and mind feeling distant, separate from whatever this strange world had become. “How much am I worth? Just keep being valuable, useful? You were already gonna sell me or kill me before you knew what a goldmine I was.”

The icy anger that laced your words made every hand on you go still. Crocodile froze as he started to rock you, and your body couldn’t choose between guilt at hurting them, or anger and fear at what they would do. 

“I think I’m drunk,” you whispered, wanting them to let you go, and wishing that they never would.

“No shit,” Buggy laughed, “I’m surprised you’re alive after that.”

His hands started massaging your legs on his lap, rubbing up and down nervously while you closed your eyes.

“Can I go lie down?”

“I’ll take you, star.”

Crocodile and Mihawk’s hands dragged along your skin as Buggy lifted you into the air, but neither stopped him from taking you. Neither stopped him from floating you away.

Neither called you pretty names as you left the room. 

 

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

 

“I’ve got you,” Buggy promised. 

Getting her onto that giant bed felt like a race. Something was right behind him. Something would stop him.

Something would take her away again. 

Finally there, he wrapped his arms around her, leaning against the headboard while her scotch scented breath warmed his chest. 

“Your breath stinks, baby.”

Maybe it was a laugh, but that choked sound made his chest tight, like a huge hand was crushing his ribcage. 

I can’t do anything. Fucking useless. Can’t help her.

“Buggy…”

“Shh, I’m right here, star,” he promised. The sound of his name on those quivering lips sent fire, rage, and guilt straight through him. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He could never leave her. He could never leave her with them after this. Even if they…

Buggy kissed her temple, trying to be soothing while he waited for them to crash through the door.

Waited for them to take her from him.

 

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

~~~

~~~🐊🗡️🐊🗡️~~~

 

Not a sound.

Not a sound filled the air as the men in the lounge sat with the news that their little lover was the heiress of Sylvad’s.

Not a sound from the two men on the couch as her accusations weighed on them, as though she hadn’t left their laps with those angry, frightened tears in her eyes. 

“That sure is something,” Shanks whistled softly. He stood to pick up Y/N’s chair, sitting across from them. “What are you gonna do with—“

“Find somewhere else to be,” Crocodile fumed, his body vibrating with the need to hurt something.

Shanks nodded, giving a crooked smile, before leaving them alone. Mihawk stared after his old friend, images of comfort he couldn’t provide burning behind his eyes.

He’s going to take them both. 

Serves us right.

Crocodile’s angry huff pulled Mihawk out of those thoughts, watching the man stomp toward the bar. The coffee table his sand had moved laid in his path, until it splintered and scattered from the touch of his vicious foot in that lovely shoe. 

The swordsman floated after him, still in a daze while the larger man imitated their girl, chugging a glass of scotch. 

Mihawk stared, but didn’t speak, didn’t touch.

Crocodile set the glass down before he shattered another one. 

“She lied—“

“Can you blame her,” Mihawk laughed coldly while the other man paced. Silver eyes shot like daggers, but Mihawk couldn’t seem to care about anything at the moment. “She told the truth, just not all—“

“She didn’t trust me.”

He sat again, staring at the floor after those stupid words had left him.

“I don’t…” Mihawk started, pushing himself to move, pushing himself to try. He sat down, and touched a hand to Crocodile’s shoulder, leaving it there after his scarred lover flinched. “We haven’t given her much reason to, have we?”

Not a sound after that. 

 

~~~🐊🗡️🐊🗡️~~~

~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

“Y/N! You can’t just leave,” Kat reasoned, pulling the clothes out of your hands before you could stuff them into your suitcase. “What about mom? What about the company?”

“Mom made her choices,” you growled, pulling the clothes back from your sister’s shaky hands. “And I don’t care about the fucking company. It’s not mine.”

“Not if—“ 

“It’s not mine. I’m sick of this fucking life. I’m getting out.”

“... What about me?”

That stopped you. But only for a moment. 

“I’m sure he’d let you come if—“

“Are you fucking kidding me right now,” she shouted, pushing you toward your messy suitcases. “He’s a pirate! If he doesn’t hurt you before, what do you think he’ll do when he finds out who you are?”

“I don’t care,” you fumed as you stared your little sister down. “I'm bored of this stupid life.”

Kat’s mouth hung open, the hurt and pain in her eyes making you want to take it all back, to beg for forgiveness.

But you couldn’t. You couldn’t waste this chance to be free. 

“You really have a death wish, you know that? That clown is going to get you killed,” Kat breathed, her voice growing colder as she turned to leave. She didn’t look back when she said her goodbye, just waved her hand over her shoulder. “I’ll look out for the ransom note.”

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

Sleep?

Sleep.

Burning sleep, and stormy seas.

Dad’s voice calling for you. 

You could never find him before the ship went under, before all that Sylvad wood splintered beneath the raging waves.

 

~~~🤡🔴🤡🔴~~~

 

“Buzz off, idiot,” Buggy ordered in a harsh whisper, Shanks’ smiling face peeking through the cracked door. Buggy had left his body on the bed to hold Y/N as she whimpered, nightmares ruining her scotch and stress induced nap. 

His head floated by the door, frowning at his old friend. 

“It’ll just be a second, Bugs, I swear.”

Shanks’ smile stretched even wider when Buggy agreed, floating his head out into the corridor.

“This better be good, asshat.”

Shanks felt it. This was it. He could have them both. 

He needed them both. 

“Let’s take her with us, Bugs.” 

Buggy’s look of shock was exaggerated by those red lips of his, and Shanks had to hold himself back from kissing them.

“But she… but it’s dangerous…”

Buggy wasn’t sure he’d actually heard those words, or if he’d fallen asleep, dreaming beside his star. Too many emotions rushed through him, but all he could think about was her. 

“Would you rather leave her here with them,” Shanks rasped, his eyes doing that heavy thing they do, although there wasn’t much of Buggy’s body to drag them down. “We can protect her. You and me, Bugs.”

The clown had to fight his body to stay still as he held her in the other room. The need to move, to fidget, to pace, made him dizzy. 

“What if she doesn’t wanna go,” Buggy wondered. Images of Y/N smiling, laughing, screaming, flew through his mind, each one making him doubt that he could ever make her as happy as she’d seemed once things had started to settle here. 

“I already asked her. I know she’ll say yes. She wants you to be happy, Bugs. Just like I do,” Shanks confessed, brushing a bit of blue hair out of Buggy’s face. He rubbed his thumb across those red, parted lips. 

So close to everything. 

“When did—“

“Buggy?”

Shanks watched his clown fly away from him, hopeful that it’d be the last time. 

Buggy flew away from his old friend, every confusing thought going blank besides the need to comfort that soft, scared voice. 

“Right here, got you, baby.”

 

~~~🤡🔴🤡🔴~~~

 

“Buggy,” you whimpered as new tears fell. 

“Shh, you’re okay. Everything’s okay.”

Painted lips covered your face, kissing your tears away until you shivered, his soothing hum blocking out everything else. 

His touch kept it all at bay. 

Every split second of memory was grief, so you curled against him, running your hand along his side. Your body writhed, whining for him as he stroked your hair and back, then pulled away.

“Hey, star, it’s o—“

“Please, touch me, Buggy,” you begged as you reached for him. “I need you so much, I need you…” 

Pathetic grief poured back in at the memory of what you’d witnessed last night, but you couldn’t fight your need for him. 

“Please, touch me.”

“Just tell me if it’s alright, okay, star," he breathed after pausing to study your face, tracing his fingers along your cheeks.

“Please,” you gasped, his lips on your neck were saving your life. Saving you from your mind. 

A touch against Mihawk’s tender bite mark brought the world back, but then Buggy was tearing you both out of your clothes, kissing down your arms, your chest, your stomach. Kissing every inch of your skin until you were crying with need instead of pain. 

Begging, begging for more. 

“Don’t worry, I’m here. I’ll take care of you, star.”

“Bug—“

Breathy, desperate moans left your throat as his fingers plunged deep inside you, and he swallowed the rest of your sounds in a wild kiss. His tongue was eating, tasting, and you almost laughed into his mouth at the memory of scotch, until his free hand found your clit. 

The fingers inside you were perfect, knowing exactly what you needed. Finding that spot, giving you steady touches that built in pressure and speed until you were clenching around his fingers, body shaking with pleasure and gratitude. 

“So beautiful,” Buggy praised, his voice full of a quiet awe as he smiled down at you. “You okay, baby?”

“Fuck me, Buggy,” you pleaded as your weak arms failed to pull him closer. “I need you inside me. Need to feel you.”

His eyes were wide, concerned, but he smiled when he kissed you. 

Smiled when he gave you everything you needed. 

 

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

 

How?

How can she be real?

How can she want me this much?

Want me after everything…

Buggy pushed those thoughts aside as he smoothed his ungloved hands down her body. 

Hands that he felt safe letting her touch. Just like his bare face that he could let her see. 

He let out his own soft, needy noise as he watched her writhe and squirm, begging for him to touch her.

“Fuck,” he hissed, just the touch of her perfect, dripping pussy against his sensitive tip was too much. Too much as he lined himself up.

“Look at me, Buggy,” Y/N cried out, her watery eyes swallowing him whole, just as he sank his cock deeper and deeper. He couldn’t hold in his moans at the pure fucking bliss that she held inside her, that she let him feel. 

“Look at me, please.”

Buggy kept his eyes on hers, her request setting off alarm bells in his mind that he had to shut down, throw out. 

She wants to look at me like this. She wants to see my face. There’s only one per—

“Buggy! I’m close, please,” she panicked, reaching up into his hair, pulling gently as her breathing went ragged. “Need to feel you, want you so bad.”

“I want you too, star, I’m right— oh gods, baby. Fuck, you feel soo good…”

Y/N screamed his name.

His name. 

Over and over while he shoved his cock as far as he could go, claiming that sweet, warm pleasure she let him take. 

Y/N pulled him in, her body made to take his come, made to milk him, to drain him, to let him fuck it back into her while she babbled, while her eyes crossed, while that cute little tongue hung out of her perfect lips.

All for him. 

Still sunk deep inside her, Buggy soothed and calmed her frantic noises, kissing her temple.

“I love you so much. My shining star.”

What a feeling to say those words. What a feeling to mean them. To have someone to say them to. 

“I love you, Buggy. I love you so much.”

What a feeling.

 

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

Notes:

I've been so nervous to add anything new to this world. I hope you don't mind some back story. And some Buggy time 😭😭😭

Chapter 20: Those Lovely Things

Summary:

You fight to find some joy while your little world falls apart. Is there anyone you can trust?

Notes:

Hi friends! I realize that most of you came for the smut, and stayed for the drama, lol. Going forward, there will be some heavier topics including trauma, scenes depicting panic attacks, etc. I'll try to bracket the most intense sections off with ~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~ and I will do my best to make sure you still understand what's going on in case you'd like to skip past those parts. Thank you so much for staying with me, and letting me take this story where I always wanted it to go!

 

Alternate POV Symbols:
🌲 ~ Flashbacks from Reader's Past | 🐊 ~ Crocodile | 🗡 ~ Mihawk | 🤡 ~ Buggy | 🔴 ~ Shanks | ⚫ ~ Scenes depicting panic attacks and/or big trauma (These symbols will bracket sections to denote the POV shift)

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

 

She’s perfect. She’s everything. She’s—

Stupid, red hair.

Buggy held Y/N close, hearts still racing, still breathing with each other.

This morning he’d woken up tense, sweating with guilt that she wasn’t in his arms after all the shit they’d been through to get back.

But the arms that had wrapped around him… The lips that had kissed his neck…

“Mornin’ Bugs.”

“Morning, shithead.”

Then there were her tears. More fucking tears today. That was all he could think about. The near panic of needing to make her feel better, make her smile, make those tears stop touching her beautiful face.

Now that those tears had stopped, his mind cracked open, letting that red hair shine through like the first light of the morning sun when you’re not ready to see it.

Gods, I’m such a piece of shit. 

“Buggy?”

“Hey, star! How ya doing? Can I get ya anything?”

“No,” she laughed, the sweetest fucking sound in the world. “Just you, Bugs. Just stay with me for a while, please.”

He held her close, his head falling back against the headboard. 

“I’ve got you.”

 

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🐊🗡️🐊🗡️~~~

 

Buggy’s name echoed through the halls, so loud that Mihawk wasn’t the only one that heard.

Crocodile sighed, shaking his head slowly at the sound.

“Should we punish our pets,” Mihawk drawled, the words spilling out like acid.

“Sorry,” Shanks called as he sauntered back into the lounge, a pleased smile on his face. “My other hosts are a bit busy. Mind if I—“ 

“Fuck off.”

Shanks smirked up at Crocodile, sand fading from reality after the larger man had shifted across the floor. 

“You two seem awfully grumpy,” he taunted, his voice too even, too calm. “It almost seems like you care about your captives. But that can’t be right...”

Mihawk was there, stepping slightly between the two men. Two men he’d betrayed.

“Is it really necessary to gloat, Red Hair?”

“Who’s gloating,” Shanks countered, his sunny smile falling fast. “I just wanna know that my friend and his girl are safe. Can’t blame me for that, can you? Not after everything you did to him.”

“We won’t stop him if he wants to go,” Crocodile rasped, the veins in his hand pulsing as he clenched his fist. That thought soaked his blood in a rage he didn’t know what to do with.

He knew there was nothing to be done. 

“How kind of you,” Shanks mocked, walking away from Crocodile’s glare to stand in front of his old friend. He didn’t look back at the frustrated sound that left Crocodile’s throat at the dismissal. 

Mihawk hated the itchiness in his fingers, the instinct to reach for his sword. 

“You’ve been trying, haven’t you, old friend,” Shanks breathed, his eyes scanning over every slight movement on Mihawk’s face. “Looks like it’s too late to play nice, though. Why would such a sweet girl wanna stay with monsters like you?” 

A clash of hook against sword.

Shanks’ serene face, inches from the striking metal as Mihawk blocked that golden hook. 

“I think I’ll have lunch on the Red Force. Give my friends some time to cool off. All that screaming sounds exhausting.” Shanks winked at Mihawk, nodded at Crocodile with a smirk, and strutted toward the door with a laugh. “If you hurt them while I’m gone, I’ll level this place to the fucking ground.”

With that threat, the red haired emperor left the two ex-warlords frozen, their weapons still caught together in a useless battle between defeated men. 

It was hard to say who lowered first, but as soon as their weapons were down, Crocodile brought his to the other’s throat. 

Mihawk let him.

“You knew,” Crocodile raged, eyes flaring as he failed to spot any fucking reaction on his new lover’s face. “You knew, didn’t you? He’s gonna take them both!”

“Don’t you think he should,” Mihawk choked, wishing it was just the sting of the hook making his throat tight. “We’ll get through tomorrow, then we'll say goodbye to our little pets. Our little prisoners. They’ve served their purpose—“

He hissed, knowing there was blood beneath that press of metal, wet heat dripping down his skin. It was almost enough pain to relax him. Almost.

“You don’t get to decide that,” Crocodile growled, bringing his face in close to breathe scotch scented fury over Mihawk’s skin. “You spoiled, selfish, little prince. Finally grown a conscience, and now you’re making it everyone else’s fucking problem.”

Mihawk was away, leaving the hook empty, except for his own pretty blood. He didn’t bother to stop the flow of it down his chest before he snarled back. 

“We can’t force them to stay, sandman,” he declared, his breath heavier than he’d expected. “I won’t do that to them again, not—“

“You’re a fucking idiot,” Crocodile sighed as he cleaned his hook with a handkerchief, white fabric staining red. 

“And why is that,” Mihawk purred, eating up the anger, preferring it over everything else. 

“If they wanna go, we’ll let them go,” the larger man conceded. His deep voice was almost weak with those words, though his next were spoken with power, with the need to make them true. 

“So, we’ll convince them to stay.”

 

~~~🐊🗡️🐊🗡️~~~

~~~~~~

 

Fuck.

You wished that Buggy’s arms could make you feel safe from the parade of memories, of demands that dragged you back down. 

It was stupid. Of course you couldn’t be free. 

A choked laugh tore from your throat. Buggy tried to soothe it away, but the insanity of it all was too much.

You had felt safe. You’d felt fucking happy with these men that threatened to kill you, to sell you into slavery. Even though you were never without fear, you’d somehow felt good with the men that owned you. Felt good with the men that threatened to kill your lover, that had beaten him bloody, humiliated him, then made you crave them so fucking badly that you almost begged them… that you had begged them to fuck you like a whore in front of him. 

Just to escape your boring, privileged life.

All of that guilt you’d tried to shove down deep was back, and Buggy’s sweet smile that had made it all okay felt like a mirage. His loving arms around you made you feel sick. 

I am sick.

He was right. He wouldn’t even have to fake it. I’m everything he said. Damaged. Wrong. Worthless. 

Buggy deserves better. 

“What’s wrong?”

More brittle laughter escaped your raw throat, and Buggy chuckled at himself.

“Sorry, baby. That list is fucking massive, isn’t it,” he soothed, hands tracing over your skin. “Wanna take a shower with me?”

He carried you, helped you, kissed you, dried you, and made you wear some of his lipstick, chasing your lips with it until you laughed and gave in. 

“Why don’t you care?”

“What,” he coughed, eyes wide as he reached for you.

“About my… About who I am?”

He looked confused, almost as if he’d forgotten. Almost as if he really didn’t see you differently. You couldn’t fucking handle that thought either way. 

“Why would I care about your shitty family,” he scoffed, grabbing and squishing your cheeks. “All I care about is how long I have to wait before I can start making fun of you for your fancy trust fund.”

Your mouth would have fallen open in shock if he hadn’t been squeezing your face so hard. He smirked at you, looking way too fucking proud of himself.

“You. Dick,” you hissed reaching out to punch his arms, his stomach, anything you could reach. Buggy cackled as he floated each body part away just before you could hit it. You squirmed out of his grip, and he floated around you, sticking his tongue out while you huffed. “I’m gonna kill you!"

“Ooh, how much do hitmen cost? I bet rich girls can hire all the best assassins!”

“Buggy– mnf.”

“I still love you,” he whispered against your lips after shoving you against the wall. “That’s never gonna change, no matter what happens, star.”

Somehow there were still tears left in you, but he caught them with his gloved thumbs, giving your red lips a gentle kiss. 

“I love you too, Bugs.”

"Of course you do,” he winked, leading you out of the suite. “Ya hungry, pretty star?”

~~~

“Good afternoon, Y/N,” Mihawk drawled as he pulled a chair out for you. “How are you feeling?”

Uncomfortable wasn’t even close to covering it. 

They let you sit by Buggy, let him hold your hand, and they stared at you with eyes that might have held concern. Or they might have had dancing berries behind them, imagining what sort of price tag you had branded under your skin. 

“Not great,” you said blandly, hating not knowing what they were going to do with you. 

The lunch went on, and they didn’t push. Didn’t try to speak with you more than some awkward small talk, and a polite request for the salt shaker. All they did was observe you.

“I want to call my sister.”

“Of course, swee– of course,” Crocodile rasped after a pause, pulling his hand back before it could reach across the table. 

“Do you already have a buyer in mind?”

That vicious growl left your throat like lightning, too fast for you to catch. Buggy’s hand went still on your shoulder while you shook with rage. 

“Y/N, we’re–”

“Y/N,” you mocked, almost proud of the way Mihawk’s lips parted when you cut him off. “No rabbits? No sweet girls? Already distancing yourselves from your old pet, huh? I guess you can’t get too attached when you have to put ‘em down, can you?”

Your chair toppled over when you stood, but you resisted the urge to shove those pretty, round tables because you had to stop being there right that fucking second. Had to stop looking at them. You backed away from their shocked faces, the pain and anger in your blood making you dizzy. 

“I hope your next pet survives a little longer,” you spat as you turned to run inside, fleeing down that long corridor. Your eyes were burning with tears, staring at the floor just ahead of your frantic steps.

It felt like only a few seconds had passed before you were caught.

“Hey, bunny,” Shanks cooed, pressing you against him. You clung to his waist, tears spilling against his chest, bare between his loose shirt. “You’re okay, sugar. I won’t let them hurt–”

“We’re not going to hurt you,” Mihawk breathed over your shoulder, so close. Shanks tensed, tilting you ever so slightly, as if preparing to pull you away. Mihawk’s wicked fingers trailed down your back, sending chills through you while he made his promises. “We’re not going to sell you, or ransom you, or hurt you, Y/N. I swear it.”

Detangling yourself from both of them with a shudder, you caught Buggy and Crocodile waiting, watching. 

“Why are you talking to me like that,” you asked, hating how hard it was to swallow the lump in your throat. 

“We didn’t think that you’d want us to talk to you so… intimately, after everything,” Mihawk explained. His fingers flexed, and you closed your eyes against another wave of exhaustion. 

“Can we just pretend today?”

Pathetic.

“What do you mean?” Crocodile came closer, that frightening face going soft, breaking you down. 

“Can we pretend everything’s alright? I just wanna pretend you care until it’s over. Do whatever you want with me, just let me feel… Just let me pretend you care,” you begged softly. Buggy’s arms wrapped around you from behind before his lower body could catch up, squeezing more tears from you. “Please?”

“Rabbit…”

“Come here, sweet girl.”

Buggy let them take you. You let them take you.

Golden eyes were so close, the scent of him making you sigh while he stroked your hair, kissing down your temple, your cheek, your jaw, before helping to lift you into Crocodile’s arms. 

Silver eyes poured over you, his deep voice so calming while you cried against another silk vest, cried as he brought you back to that magical place filled with pleasure and pain. That place where you’d felt both shackled and free.

That stupid, green, velvet couch. 

“My sweet girl. I’d never send you away. Never hurt you, babydoll. Daddy’s here. Whatever you need.”

“My little rabbit, my love. I want you by my side. I want to watch you, my fierce, little bloodhound. Tell me what I need to do, darling. Anything.”

“My shining star. You’re my everything. You’re everything I need.”

Pretty, pretty lies.

~~~

“President Buggy, sir?”

Buggy huffed while he floated his head across the room, sticking his tongue out when he flew over Shanks’ grinning face. His hands didn’t stop petting your legs while you laid across the three laps on the couch. 

“What is it,” he snapped at the intruder through the cracked door. 

“So sorry to interrupt, sir,” the man sputtered, clearing his throat. You couldn’t see him, but his anxiety radiated through the door. “The final dress rehearsal is meant to start soon. Should we… would you like us to run through it without you, sir?”

“No, I…”

Buggy’s hands went stiff, and you turned your head to look over at his concerned face, almost pained when he glanced at you. 

“It’s okay, Buggy,” you croaked, your voice a wreck after all your tears. 

“We can watch your show over dinner again,” Mihawk suggested as he laid his hand over Buggy’s.

“We’ll freshen up,” Crocodile agreed, brushing a bit of hair from your face. “How does that sound, sweet girl?”

The tiniest, most exhausted of smiles touched the corner of your lips before he lifted you, and followed Buggy’s headless body toward the door. 

“Mind if I take a peek backstage, Bugs,” Shanks flirted, wrapping his arm around the clown’s shoulders. “I always love your shows.”

“Don’t get in the way,” Buggy grumbled. You heard Shanks’ pleased laughter while Buggy floated up to press a soft kiss to your lips, and Crocodile’s wide chest kept you warm, and sleepy. “Wanna watch my show, star?”

“Always,” you breathed, wishing you were worth that perfect smile. 

 

~~~~~~

~~~🤡🔴🤡🔴~~~

 

“Don’t be so stressed, Bugs,” Shanks beamed, following his grumbly clown through the halls. “You’ll blow ‘em away at the party tomorrow. Then we can take Y/N, and get out of here. Help her smile again. She needs to–”

“You don’t know her,” Buggy hissed, rounding on his old friend. His old friend whose eyes widened a bit at his words, but still kept that fucking smile. 

That perfect fucking smile that made his eyes go a little unfocused every time he saw it. 

So he turned, continuing his scolding while he walked toward the banquet hall, avoiding that face. 

“You don’t know what she needs.”

“You’re right,” Shanks apologized, walking backwards so he could look at his clown. Look at those perfect eyes. “You know her. You’re fucking beautiful together, Buggy. It makes me so happy to see you like that. Loved. She loves you, doesn’t she?”

Shanks watched all those expressions move under that greasepaint, studying each and every one. Trying to figure out the right words to say. 

“She does,” Buggy hesitated. He shouldered past the red haired pirate, forcing the other man to keep up with his quickened pace. Forcing that smile out of his line of sight. 

“Let’s get her out of here,” Shanks urged. Even with their speed through the halls, his voice was calm, quiet, soothing. “You can protect her, Buggy. I’ll help you. You know she’ll never be safe with them. I just want you both to be safe and happy, Bugs.”

Tears. 

Too many fucking tears in her eyes. 

“When did you ask her?”

“What do you mean,” Shanks chirped, skirting around a servant with a stack of nameplates for the tables. 

“I mean, when did you ask her to come with us,” Buggy breathed, pulling Shanks backstage after looking around the banquet hall. The stage was tiny compared to the three rings he was used to, but he could get used to that swanky, private dressing room. 

Especially now that he had Shanks pinned to the mirrored wall inside, those brown eyes flashing with a challenge, and a promise that almost made him forget the world. 

Forget her. 

“When,” he growled, more forcefully than he’d meant to as he shook himself out of Shanks’ spell. Shanks didn’t answer right away, his eyes roaming over Buggy’s face, concern and charm oozing off of him. 

“The first night,” he whispered, cradling Buggy’s cheek, tilting his hips closer. Wanting to get this stress out of Buggy’s eyes, help him feel good, help him get out of here. “You still snore like a sea lion, Bugs. Mihawk didn’t hear me.”

Buggy’s red lips fell open, but he pulled away before Shanks’ thumb could rub across them.

“And the dance. What did you say to her?”

“Just this,” Shanks reassured with a smile. “I can protect you both.”

Shanks’ smile had always brought irritation or need. No, not need. Awe. Buggy had tried to compete with his friend, had fought and struggled for years. 

“I want you with me, Bugs.”

He’d never felt good enough compared to his perfect friend. His perfect friend that was always in charge. Even though his perfect friend said such lovely things about him. 

“I don’t wanna find the One Piece without you, baby.”

Those lovely things. They couldn’t be true. 

“And I don’t wanna leave your pretty star with these monsters.” 

Until finally, Buggy had believed those words. Believed that perfect smile. 

“Let me make it all up to you. Anything you need.”

But in the end, that smile had brought him nothing but pain. 

Nothing until…

“Come with me,” Shanks purred, not caring about all that greasepaint when he flipped Buggy around, shoving his clown against the mirror to kiss the surprised, little moans from his lips. “I want you so bad, Buggy. I’ve wanted you for so long.”

Buggy’s eyes fluttered closed when Shanks’ fingers reached for him, finding his cock already hard beneath that bright, red fabric. Shanks let out a satisfied hum as Buggy lost himself, melting under that smile that said so many lovely things. 

Melting under that hand that knew his body so well.

“President Buggy, sir?”

 

~~~🤡🔴🤡🔴~~~

~~~~~~

 

The snail went on and on. 

You’d let Mihawk take care of you, wiping your face, kissing you, rubbing cool lotion onto your flushed skin, kissing you, fixing your face up before kissing across it again.

“Lovely, little rabbit,” he’d purred before setting you up with the transponder snail. You were shocked when they left you in the lounge all alone, until you remembered that he could hear you from a mile away. 

Pretending. We’re just pretending.

“Hello?”

“Kat? Oh gods, hi! Kat, it’s me,” you panicked, realizing you hadn’t planned anything to say. 

“Y/N? Are you okay? Fuck, tell me it’s you, sis.”

“Kat,” you laughed, relief and joy flooding your drained body, waking you out of your daze. “It’s me. I helped you cheat your way through stats so you would—“

“So I would help you get out of those creepy match making parties mom kept—“

“Kat, I’m so sorry.”

…

“Kat?”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I mean,” you grimaced, hating it all. “You were right. They found out who I am.”

“How much is the ransom?”

Sighing, you leaned back, tapping your head against the chair. 

“I don’t know yet, but I’m okay. They let me call you.”

“… The Cross Guild?”

Fogginess filled your mind again, trying to mesh all of your worlds together.

“That clown,” she explained, her voice getting hushed. “Your clown, and his cronies, right? I saw the flyers.”

“Oh,” you relaxed, picturing that colorful flyer that had caused so much trouble. “Yeah, but don’t worry. They haven’t hurt me. I think they’ll just ransom me back. Uncle’s gonna love—“

“You should really listen to him.”

Kat’s voice was lined with stress, something you never missed. 

“Kat, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she clearly lied, your sister’s shrill voice too easy to read. “It’s just been long enough, you know? Things are good here, and you could… we could all be happy.”

“Happy,” you breathed, not wanting to give in to anger. 

“Yeah,” she brushed off, clearing her throat. “Mom’s coming, so I… I love you, sis.”

“Love you—“

“See you soon.”

…

The snail stared back at you for too long, its slow moving eyes making you dizzy. 

Unease bubbled under your skin, Kat’s strained voice replaying in your mind. 

“Something’s wrong,” you declared to empty air, your voice hollow. 

“What is it, love,” Mihawk asked, appearing on the desk before you. 

“Kat’s stressed.”

“What about, sweetheart,” Crocodile prompted as he came to lean over the desk beside the other man. 

“He’s done something,” you trailed off, mind going hazy around the edges. 

“We’ll help you, darling,” Mihawk whispered before kissing your wrist, your eyes fluttering from his simple touch amidst all your chaos. 

“Please, don’t send me back.”

 

~~~⚫️⚫️⚫️~~~

 

The plea was dry, futile, almost silent while your eyes got lost around the desk. The moment the words left your lips, you went limp. Your mouth slack, drool forming, ready to spill if you got stuck for too long. 

Nothing. 

Nothing. 

Just how he wants me.

What looked like panic in their eyes at the horrifying laugh you let out made you laugh even more, your fingernails scraping deep into your thighs while that grating sound tore through you.

“You can try to own me. I tried to let you. But he won’t let you. You’ll have to buy me first,” you warned in a harsh whisper, insanity creeping and creeping. 

“Sweetheart?”

“Nope,” you giggled, shaking your head too fast. “No sweethearts for me! No love for me. Just work. Nothing else.”

“Y/N…”

“Y/N,” you parroted Mihawk again, your voice breaking. “Please pretend. Please pretend you—“

 

~~~⚫️⚫️⚫️~~~

 

“Please, tell me what’s wrong,” he urged, kneeling at your feet, your head in his hands. “Let us help you, rabbit. I…”

“Help me by pretending,” you sat up, voice clear when you brushed the fresh tears away. “I want to pretend. I want you to pretend to care for one more day.”

His strong hands gave in as you stood to walk away. 

“Please, pretend.”

You were in his arms, resting your head in the crook of his neck, feeling Crocodile’s strong presence beside him.

“Thank you.”

“All you gotta do is tell us what you want, sweet girl.”

“Thank you, daddy.”

 

~~~~~~

~~~🐊🗡️🐊🗡️~~~

 

Murder. 

Murder roiled just beneath the surface of their skin, bodies made up of raw nerves.

A panicked glance shared between them helped nothing, except to confirm that something was fucking wrong. 

Something far worse than what they’d thought.

Mihawk held Y/N against him, pretending to be light, pretending to be the person he’d been for her before.

The person he’d been when he wasn’t scaring her, using her, showing her what a monster he was.

But all he wanted to do was shake her. Drag out whatever horrible truth there was inside her precious, little soul so he could stab it to death. 

She’s going to leave us like this. She’s going to leave here broken.  

He glanced at the other man again, wondering if he was just as terrified as he was.

Crocodile was terrified. All he wanted was to protect her. To never hear that jarring, scraping laugh leave her throat again. It was demonic. Wrong. 

His sweet girl should never be in that much pain.

He had to fight not to tear his hook across every wall they passed, through every door frame he ducked under. 

Had to give her what she wanted. To pretend everything was alright. 

To pretend that he wasn’t one of the monsters that made her cry. 

He sat and watched the show, watching her tired face pretending to be happy while her sick laughter clawed through the back of his mind.

I can’t let her leave like this. I can’t let my sweet girl hold that pain. I’m gonna fucking gut him. 

 

~~~🐊🗡️🐊🗡️~~~

~~~~~~

 

Woozy. 

But okay. 

So nice to sway back and forth between them. To watch your clown perform. To forget the world. 

Forget everything.

You were pretty good at it. 

Practiced. 

It helped when they’d call you pretty names, trace their warm, strong hands along your back, your thighs. Massaging your hand while you smiled at the shining star on the stage. 

Even the red haired pirate made you smile with his laughter and jokes, with his charm and soothing voice. Even with that missed smudge of red paint on his chin, you smiled at the thought of Buggy being happy. 

“Look at my star,” he hummed, his upper body racing to you faster than his legs could when the show was done. They left the band going for you, letting you sway. “You okay, baby?”

“Mhm,” you lied, not caring what Crocodile did to you now. “I think I need to stand.”

Pushing away from the table, every eye on you felt like pressure, felt like the real world was crushing you.

“Pretend,” you ordered, huffing a laugh at what a spoiled, little rich girl you were. “Everything is fine and we’re having a wonderful night, all of us together. Okay?”

Your three men promised, their voices soothing, but the forth voice cut through when the red haired man stood. 

“Everything is wonderful,” he beamed, offering you his hand. “Would you like to show me what a wonderful dancer you are, bunny?”

He looked so pleased when you snorted, and even more so when you took his hand. You didn’t think about why you shouldn’t or why anyone would stop you. 

I just want to pretend. 

 

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

 

This poor thing. I’ve gotta get her out of here.

Shanks led Y/N to that gleaming floor, sparing just a glance at Buggy. His clown didn’t match his smile, and he couldn’t blame him. 

How could he smile when his poor girl was coming undone?

“Your technique is amazing,” he teased as he kept her from rolling her ankle. “Where did you train?”

“I trained at— shut up,” she narrowed her eyes, so fucking cute. 

“You actually trained,” he laughed, pulling her squirming body against his until her eyes went wide, her breathing slowed. His next words came out soft, but there was no need to hide from his old friend anymore. Mihawk couldn’t stop this. 

“I’ll protect you,” he vowed, watching her eyes clench shut. “Come with me after the party. I don't care about your family’s wealth. I don’t care where you came from. I just care about Buggy, and the One Piece. And now you.”

Those pretty eyes were teary again when they opened, and he felt a twinge of guilt before he charged on. 

“You can be free, Y/N.”

“Tomorrow,” she sighed, body slumping a bit against his. “Tonight we’re pretending that everyone cares, that everyone gets along, that no one would ever use me. Can you pretend?”

The emptiness in her voice made his stomach twist, something foul hiding behind her tired request.

“Of course. Anything for you, bunny,” he promised, kissing the top of her head. When he turned to look for Buggy, he clenched his jaw, fighting to keep tension out of his body while he danced with Y/N. 

Mihawk’s hands were on Buggy, stroking his hair, smoothing over his thigh while the clown laid on the table in front of those scumbags. Even Crocodile leaned closer, rubbing his large hand along Buggy’s back before heading to the dance floor.

“May I have the next dance, sweetheart?”

“Yes, daddy,” she hummed, pulling away from Shanks, not even meeting his eyes before skipping toward her kneeling captor. She wrapped her arms around his neck, giggling when he stood. Her feet dangled while he held her thighs against that massive chest. 

“Mm, see? My sweet girl doesn’t need to be a good dancer when daddy’s around.”

She squealed as the tyrant carried her across the gleaming floor, satisfied laughter floating along behind them. 

Shanks tried not to gape at that sweet girl giggling in the arms of a man that destroyed an entire country for his own fucking greed. 

Poor thing.

 

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🐊🤡🗡️~~~

 

“Aren’t you gonna stop them,” Buggy asked, watching his two favorite people head toward the empty dance floor. Wondering why he didn’t feel happier seeing them together. 

“We’re never gonna do that again,” Crocodile rasped, the strange tension in his words making Buggy whip his head around to frown at that intense face. “We’re not going to force either of you to do anything you don’t want to.”

Buggy was rarely out of words, but he simply stared at the man, his red lips parted in almost comical confusion. 

“I’m sorry, Buggy.”

Those words from the swordsman’s lips had Buggy fearing that he’d died, that his mind was imagining ridiculous scenarios while his body left this world. 

But those golden eyes didn’t fade to nothingness. They kept staring at him, those dangerous fingers reaching for his own. 

“The fuck…”

“We’re bad people,” Crocodile announced, and the firmness of it made Buggy crack up, his pretty throat exposed while that blue hair fell back. 

Crocodile felt the urge to be angry. To demand fear. 

That shit was getting old. 

And his little clown was cute when he laughed. His little clown was cute when he made everyone laugh. 

Still annoying. But cute.

“We’re bad people,” Crocodile apologized, smoothing his hand along Buggy’s back. “That’s not gonna change. But I wish we hadn’t been bad to you. We hope… I hope you’ll let us make it up to you.”

Buggy blinked up at Crocodile in shock, and Mihawk almost laughed. It was surprising to hear so many nice words out of such frightening lips all at once, especially without their darling in front of him.

Mihawk cut through layers and layers of guilt to touch Buggy’s lovely hair, to smooth a hand over his thigh. 

No matter which direction he went, he would be hurting someone. There would be no true redemption for a wicked soul like his. 

But he could start here with crystal blue eyes, and a silly nose. A nose he used to ridicule, but lately had caught himself almost smiling at when he saw it. Fighting not to reach for his little clown. And why shouldn’t he reach? Who the fuck was he trying to impress? This clown was more interesting than anyone he could think of. 

“I am a terrible person. A selfish, cruel bastard. An asshole,” he whispered, staring into his clown’s wide eyes.

“Uh, yeah,” Buggy agreed cautiously, a nervous laugh leaving his throat as his eyes flicked back and forth between his tormentors. 

“I’m sorry too, little clown,” Crocodile rasped, fingers pressing in gently against Buggy’s sore muscles. “I know it’s not worth much after everything, but I’d like to take care of you now. Make sure no monster like me hurts you, or our girl again.”

Crocodile watched his little clown try to understand him. He knew it wasn’t worth shit. How could a few words make up for the terror and pain he’d caused? He fought the instinct to slam his hook into the table at his own discomfort, his body not used to accepting guilt. 

But this brave little clown had stood up to him. Over and over. Protected his sweet girl from him before he knew how precious she was. Made her laugh. 

Made him laugh.

“We won’t hurt you if you leave, even if you take her with you. I hope you stay though,” Crocodile confessed, leaning over Buggy as he stood to walk toward the dance floor. “I’d love to spoil you, little clown.”

Buggy almost fell off the table when Crocodile kissed his temple, and the playful smirk on Mihawk’s face didn’t help. 

These men were fucking horrible.

Dickbags. Monsters. Pieces of shits.

But they were also interesting. Relaxing. Intoxicating. Overwhelming. 

They made her smile. Made her scream. 

Mihawk chuckled softly, and Buggy realized that his eyes had fluttered when he thought about these big, scary, bad guys fucking his pretty star. 

Fucking him. 

“So, where’s the after party, Mr. President?”

Buggy let out an embarrassingly high yelp at Shanks’ question, breathed along the back of his neck.

“Our little rabbit wants us to pretend we all get along,” Mihawk purred, danger and challenge in those golden eyes. “Think we can all get along on that giant bed, or should I tell–”

“Can we,” Buggy asked, looking up at Shanks’ grin. 

What if this is it? What if this is the end?

Buggy wasn’t sure which “end” he was more concerned with, and that made him want to beat his head against the table. 

What the fuck do I want?

 

~~~🐊🤡🗡️~~~

~~~~~~

 

I want to forget everything. I want everything to freeze right here, tonight. Never start again. Just this.

“All you gotta do is tell us what you want, sweetheart,” Crocodile promised, his hand tracing down your bare skin after Mihawk freed you from those fancy clothes they’d picked out for you. You giggled when Buggy started from the bottom, kissing up your ankle and shin, shivering when Shanks mirrored him on the other side. 

“You said we all need to get along, right, love,” Mihawk teased, his voice alone making your body tighten with need. “My little vixen… You want everyone to get along inside you, don’t you? Want us to spoil our little darling? Want us to drown you in come?”

“Fuck, please,” you begged, interupting Crocodile’s weak argument against it. Interrupting whatever flimsy excuse he could muster up for why they shouldn’t fuck your brains out tonight. “Please, fucking take me.”

“Anything for you, little rabbit.”

Oh gods.

 So many things. So many sensations. 

Buggy on his knees in front of you, his tongue finding your clit like a fucking magnet. Shanks behind you, his hand holding one of your cheeks aside while his hypnotic tongue made you cry out, teasing, and then fucking your ass while you twitched. 

Mihawk gripped your hair, forcing his tongue into your mouth while you whined before he shoved your head down, shoving your mouth over Crocodile’s thick cock. You cried, struggling against his size, until Mihawk took your place, showing you how it’s done. 

Crocodile threw his head back, and the needy moan from Mihawk’s stuffed throat was enough, Buggy and Shanks’ tongues sending you screaming for the first time that night. 

“Don’t stop,” you begged, falling back against Shanks’ chest while you devoured the sight of Crocodile fucking Mihawk’s throat, fisting that soft, black hair, and calling him his “sweet, little prince.”

“Want us to fuck you, little bunny? Want us inside you?”

“Please, gods…”

“You heard her, Bugs, let’s–” 

“Shut the fuck up, and fuck my girl’s ass already.”

Buggy was already kissing along your cheek as they kneeled on either side of you, whispering to check if it was alright. Lubed fingers were shoved up your ass while your eyes rolled back, not ready for the pressure that was about to fill you. 

“Oh, ffuck…”

“Little bunny likes getting fucked like this, huh? Like my cock in your tight, little ass? How did I know you’d feel so fucking good? Fuck her, Buggy. Let me feel your cock inside her.”

“Buggy!”

“Fuck, star… Gods,” Buggy moaned as he forced himself inside your needy cunt. He kissed you while you fell apart, whimpering and screaming with every greedy thrust. “Shanks…”

“I feel you, Bugs,” Shanks purred, his strong fingers finding your clit. He made you come, screaming your voice away while he talked to your clown. “She’s perfect, Buggy. Let me feel you come inside her. Let’s fill her up. You wanna please him so bad, don’t you? You want his come, bunny?”

“Need it,” you managed to moan while you twitched. 

They may have said more words, but all you knew was their achingly hot pleasure pouring so fucking deep inside you. They filled and filled you while they kissed each other over your shoulder, letting out sweet, little moans while you took everything that their cocks could give you. 

Before they were done fucking each other through your body, you felt Mihawk’s fingers in your hair, tugging just hard enough to pull you out of the feelings you were about to dip into. 

 “Want more, darling?”

“Please.”

“So voracious. I wonder if these little boys can keep up.”

“We're just getting warmed up,” Shanks taunted, fucking his come into your ass with a few wicked thrusts while you spasmed against him. “Can’t wait to see what other tricks our pretty bunny can do.”

“Come here, sweetheart," Crocodile purred from the bed, sitting against the headboard. “Daddy’s cock’ll make you forget everything.”

Whining, you begged to get off of the two cocks that had just made you scream, and onto the one that would rip you apart. 

“Come on, boys,” Mihawk ordered as he helped you line yourself up, their come dripping down to mix with the lube Crocodile had rubbed over himself for you. “Let’s watch our lovely girl’s sweet pussy get destroyed.”

“Fuck, daddy,” you cried out, the stretch of him inside you still a shock after all your time together. “Daddy, it’s too much.”

“Nah, babygirl,” he soothed, kissing your neck while his hand guided your body over his. “You can take it. Take it for daddy. Take everything...”

“My little rabbit,” Mihawk hummed, kissing up the back of your neck. “You love it when we take you like this, don’t you?”

You started to say yes, but when he shoved himself into your come-soaked ass, all you could do was scream. All you could do was pant, and twitch, and come, and then fucking come again when they told you what a good, little girl you were. 

“You fuck our girl so well, little prince,” Crocodile praised, bringing a soft moan from Mihawk’s throat. “Gonna stuff her sweet ass for daddy? Show me what a pretty mess you can make?”

You both cried out, their cocks twitching inside you. So fucking good.

“Mm, be a good boy, and kiss me first. Make our sweet girl come with your fingers again.”

“Daddy,” you fell apart, feeling his lips on yours before you watched him kiss Mihawk over your shoulder. Your head fell to the side, and your eyes rolled back at the sight of Buggy and Shanks with hands and lips all over each other.

But Buggy’s eyes were on you. 

“Buggy,” you whispered at the sight of him, and suddenly he was there. He was kissing you. 

“My little clown,” Crocodile purred, fisting his hand through that gorgeous blue hair. “Wanna make it up to him, little prince?”

“Yes, daddy,” Mihawk breathed, his fingers still making you twitch. 

Buggy had already stopped kissing you, staring back and forth between the two men while they fucked into you, while he trailed his hands down your skin. 

“I wanna take care of you,” Crocodile promised, his voice getting rougher as he fucked you open. “You know I’ll take care of you, don’t you, little clown?”

Your mind was almost lost to it all, almost fucked out, but his words felt heavy, vital. Your breath caught, waiting for your clown to answer. 

“Yes, daddy.”

“Mm, such a good boy for me,” Crocodile praised, tugging that blue hair a little harder while you came on their cocks again. “Show him how sorry you are, little prince. Suck his dick. Let Buggy fuck that mean little mouth of yours.”

If you weren’t already coming, you knew you would have at those words, at the shocked look on Buggy’s face when Mihawk opened wide, at the sounds they both made when Buggy shoved his floating cock so deep, so fucking fast into the swordsman’s throat. 

“Fuck yeah, daddy’s so fucking proud of you,” Crocodile groaned, thick come spilling down the sides of his cock as he filled you. Mihawk made delicious whimpering noises while he came in your ass, Buggy’s cock strangling him, then spilling across that perfect face when it pulled away. 

You caught Buggy’s eyes when he stared at his mess, his satisfaction making you twitch again. Mihawk reached for Buggy, kissing him hard over your shoulder. 

The door closed. It wasn’t a slam. That probably would have helped you remember why there was a door at all, let alone another human being on the fucking planet. 

But the door shut, and Buggy was gone, leaving your body screaming until your other lovers let you loose, praising, and kissing, and touching, until you shivered with pleasure. Carrying you into the shower like they had that first night. 

Buggy returned, helping to scrub Crocodile’s shoulders, making you all laugh under that lovely, warm water. 

So many pretty lies. 

Smiling against Buggy’s chest, with Crocodile curled up behind you, and Mihawk’s hand touching you from around Buggy’s body, you felt perfect. 

This was exactly what you’d wanted. 

Exactly the kind of pretend you had asked for. 

Tonight you only dreamed of the transponder snail, and you decided not to answer. 

 

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

 

It was already too much. Too much that Buggy couldn’t keep his eyes off of them. 

It’s okay. He loves her. We’ll take her away.

Those words rang through Shanks’ mind while his clown couldn’t look away from the monsters in that bed. It was okay, even when Buggy left him without a second glance to kiss her. It was just for her.

Until it wasn't.

He called him daddy.

He let Mihawk… 

Mihawk had… 

Now they're kissing like that… 

Shanks had to leave. 

“Shanks, hey! Where ya going?”

The red haired emperor rarely had to lie. Rarely had to fake a thing. Never had to fake a smile. 

But he did now.

Shanks plastered a smile on his face, tilting his head at his lovely, old friend. 

“I’m good, Bugs,” he lied, moving close. He was about to touch his chin, but the thought of Mihawk there made him pause. “You should sleep in there with her. If you come with me tomorrow, then this is your last night to play pretend with them.”

“But–”

“It’s okay,” Shanks lied again, getting over himself to kiss those faded red lips. “I’ll be here in the morning, Bugs. I’m not going anywhere without you.”

Soft, sweet eyes scanned his face, so Shanks held onto that fake smile as tight as he could. Wanting his clown to be happy.

“Okay,” Buggy whispered, reaching for his hips to pull him closer. "You can join us if you want. I’m sure–”

“I’ll be alright,” Shanks laughed, fighting not to shove Buggy back into that room, and slam the door on his new life that made no fucking sense. “Goodnight, baby. Dream about me.”

A bit of satisfaction ran through him at the shudder Buggy gave when he teased those words, kissing below his ear. The emperor turned around before his clown could say another word.

Shanks needed to get the fuck out of there. 

Before he hurt someone. 

 

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~

 

Mihawk couldn’t recall feeling the amount of pleasure, safety, and comfort that he had tonight. The warmth and slow breathing of his three lovers would have had him drifting off. 

Yet, he couldn't recall feeling the level of terror and helplessness he had felt when he watched Y/N fracture, the chaos in her distant eyes sending ice through his veins.

His darling's secrets kept him awake, especially at the searing thought that she might leave with Shanks. She might leave before he could hunt and kill whatever had poured that poisonous laughter down her throat.

That laughter.

“Hey, Hawk Eyes.”

Shanks’ quiet voice taunted through the halls, dangerous laughter floating with it.

“I know you’re awake, old friend. Let’s have a chat.”

 

~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~

Notes:

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed the DRAMA! How's everybody doing?

Chapter 21: For Now

Summary:

It's hard to sleep the night before the big event. Everyone finds ways to cope with the stress.

Notes:

This chapter contains big TRAUMA/DRAMA/HURT, but also big SMUT and COMFORT, I swear!! However, the flashback includes the trauma of the reader's father's death. I have bracketed that section between these symbols ~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~ and you can skip it without missing the story. Please do not read that section if parental death, trauma, shipwrecks, panic attacks, or grief may be triggering for you!

Alternate POV Symbols:
🌲 ~ Flashbacks from Reader's Past | 🐊 ~ Crocodile | 🗡 ~ Mihawk | 🤡 ~ Buggy | 🔴 ~ Shanks | ⚫ ~ Scenes depicting panic attacks and/or big trauma (These symbols will bracket sections to denote the POV shift)

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

 

Gods fucking damn it. 

Shanks had the presence of mind to pull on his pants before running away from that room, but now he was wandering down the corridor with sex all over his skin, a sticky reminder of the scene he’d just left. 

Fuck. 

His clothes were in the middle suite, the one nextdoor to the room he’d just fled from like a coward. 

Buggy’s scent, so precious, so craved for so long, made him want to smash his head against the wall. 

The way they kissed…

Shanks opened the next door he saw, finding another suite, remarkably full of exactly what he needed. Except for the fact that it all belonged to that swordsman. 

He’d found Mihawk’s “closet,” an entire suite of wardrobes, coat racks, and shelves for all of his annoying boots.

He wanted to burn it all to ash. 

Shanks stomped across the suite, relieved to find the extravagant bathroom fully stocked. Stripping out of those sticky pants, he struggled with the fancy soap in its pretty packaging. Normally, he’d be able to unwrap it easily, years of practice with one hand. 

But right now, his fingers were shaking, and he needed to get that fucking smell off of him. 

Growling as he tore the soapy paper with his teeth, Shanks managed to get under the water, scrubbing himself like he was warding off disease. He resisted the urge to yell and curse since he didn’t want his old “friend” to hear him.

He fought with piles of fabric, hissing with annoyance until he found one of those frilly fucking shirts, tugging on the softest, loosest pants he could find. He pulled the laces tight, but left them untied, strings hanging down over his thighs as he left his sex-covered pants in Mihawk's giant closet. 

Booze. Where the fuck is the booze?

Shanks became nothing, but that singular goal. The Emperor of the Sea was about to search every fucking room he passed until he remembered where he needed to go. Where he’d find the relief he needed. 

It’s that room. The one with that stupid, green couch. 

 

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

 

You didn’t answer. 

No storms. 

No ships.

No voice calling your name. 

Just the snail on the desk, and your pencil in your hand. 

Then there was your body, trapped and suffocating. Too much heat, too much, too much!

You gasped when you woke, tasting the middle of the night on the air. Buggy’s upper body had tilted away from you, but his leg had you trapped, panicking with the need to move. Crocodile’s massive arm wrapped around you like a cage, and your breath went too light, too fast, too close to a scream. 

Whimpers left your throat as you tried to wriggle free without waking the sleeping pirates. You managed to scoot down a few inches before that giant hand grasped your throat, pulling you against his chest. 

“Sorrysorrysorrysor–”

“Fuck, I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Crocodile hissed, pulling his hand and body away from you, letting you breathe. His voice was full of sleep, groaning a bit as he rubbed his hand over his face. “Had a dream you were– Are you alright, babygirl?”

A tiny, sad laugh left your throat, and he kissed the top of your head.

“What do ya need?”

The darkened ceiling stole all of your focus for an unknowable amount of time before you breathed out your answer.

“I want to see Adam.”

~~~

“I thought you hated Adam,” you whispered, tugging on your robe before you left the room. You’d kissed Buggy’s cheek, pulling the blanket over his snoring form. Your mind struggled for a moment when you realized that there was no one else on the bed, but Crocodile touched your elbow, guiding you to the hallway before you could think about it too long. 

“Why would I hate such a tiny creature,” he snorted as he opened the door to that cat paradise. Adam came up to you first, then rubbed himself against Crocodile’s bare ankles beneath his long, velvet smoking jacket. His sharp eyes glanced toward the cat’s servant that was dozing softly by the door. “Come back in two hours.”

Giggling while the guard hurried out, you laid on the carpet to spend time with your little tabby cat. 

Not mine. Just pretend. 

Heat filled your throat as you fought against an odd guilt. Guilt that you weren’t showing this innocent animal the perfect happiness that he deserved. Guilt that you were struggling to keep pretending. 

“Sweetheart…”

Crocodile joined you on the floor. Sitting against the wall with his long legs stretched out for Adam to rub along, he offered you his comfort. He pulled you to him when you nodded, grabbing a pillow from the couch to set on his lap when Adam wouldn’t stop jumping onto that fancy, green jacket. 

You leaned into his warmth, breathing in the scent of cigars while you curled up against him. Petting the purring cat, you smiled at how relaxed Adam was on the lap of your frightening lover. 

No. It’s all just pretend. 

“Your dad told you that story, right,” he asked softly, touching a tentative finger to the top of Adam’s head. “About the Jewel Tree Adam?”

“Yeah.”

“What other stories did he tell you?”

Crocodile’s voice was so deep, so soothing. That question made you sink into yourself, struggling between a smile and a frown. 

“Most stories were about trees, or what they’re used to build. And math, always math. Great mathematicians that made their worlds better. But that story was my favorite.”

His strong fingers were so gentle as he trailed them through your hair, down your face, your arm, rubbing his thumb over your hand before letting you pet Adam again. 

“Why don’t you tell me about him? Anyone that loved my sweet girl like that deserves my respect.”

Strange pride and sorrow made your eyes clench shut, pressing your face into his chest. 

“He loved me,” you agreed, voice almost silent as you slipped away from the moment. 

“But he cursed me.”

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

The end of the semester was close, and you’d already finished all of your assignments. Just the final was left now, and you knew you didn't need to study. You knew you’d already killed this class. 

But the sound of your pencil scraping away, the crisp scent of your textbook, your dad’s comfy desk chair… It was all comforting. 

Moving numbers around was satisfying. Especially when he’d come home, and go over every assignment with you, making up his own so you could show him how you thought things through. 

You were erasing a mistake, brushing the bits off of your paper when your dad’s transponder snail rang. A little yelp left your throat as its lazy eyes turned to stare at you. You’d never heard a call this late before, even after all the nights you’d accidentally fallen asleep at his desk. 

Should I answer?

The snail went on and on, until you finally reached for it, wanting to help your dad by taking a message.

“Y/N?”

“Dad?”

 

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

 

“Y/N?”

“Dad, is that–”

“Y/N? Can you hear me?”

“Dad?”

“Y/N, sweetheart! You can hear me?”

“Barely,” you yelled at the snail, struggling to hear through whatever chaos was happening.

There were people yelling. 

Noises you didn’t understand.

Until thunder explained it all. 

Waves. 

Wood creaking. 

Sylvad wood creaking. 

Cracking.

“Y/N?”

“Daddy, what’s–”

“I love you, sweetheart. I love you so–”

Louder yells, louder sounds. Your body was about to explode with a terror you couldn’t acknowledge.

I fell asleep at the desk. This is a dream. 

“Y/N?”

“I hear you, daddy,” you lied, pressing your ear close to the snail even as the crashing and creaking echoed through his peaceful office.

“My girl,” he praised, his voice straining over so many horrible sounds. “Knew you’d be working, my little numbers girl. Please be happy, be–”

Daddy’s voice. 

His scream. 

So many screams, and crashes, and Sylvad wood splintering beneath waves, until the snail finally gave nothing but choked, watery gasps. 

…

“Dad?”

Your head was shaking back and forth, warding off what couldn’t be real.

“Daddy, can you hear me?”

The snail’s eyes looked even wider, even more hypnotizing when you clenched your fist around it, shaking the strange creature while you screamed, begging it to bring back the voice that had called for you on that stormy ship. 

“DADDY??!!!”

 

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

 

“Shh, I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” Crocodile soothed while your panicked breathing made you shake. “I’m sorry you had to hear that. Thank you for trusting me. I’m right here, babygirl. Not going anywhere.”

Why did I tell him that? He’s just going to sell me. Just going to use this against me. 

Those instinctive, defensive thoughts fell apart as his voice kept washing over you. As Adam crawled off of his lap onto you, reaching up to rub his chin along yours until you held him, and sobbed. 

You’d never told anyone about your dad’s last call. That you’d heard your dad’s last words.

The only people that knew about it were people that had used it against you. Had judged you. Had screamed at you. 

Had sent you…

“Don’t tell anyone,” you begged, panic flooding your veins. “Please, don’t–”

“No one,” Crocodile vowed, his words heavier than the island you laid upon. “You know I’m here for you, Y/N. Anything you need.”

Somehow, relaxation moved through your body. Your mind battled between distrust and comfort, fear and peace. The contradictions gave you a headache, but soon you were nodding off against his warm, powerful body. A body that had frightened and satisfied you, overwhelmed and spoiled you. 

A body that was now poised to protect you. 

“You can sleep, sweet girl. Daddy’s here. I’ll keep you safe.”

“Thank you, Daddy.”

 

~~~~~~

~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~

 

Mihawk had no trouble crawling out of bed without waking his lovers. No trouble slipping on his silk robe as stepped into the hall. No trouble following that taunting voice to the lounge. 

He had trouble opening the door. 

“Don’t be shy, old friend. Come on in.”

I’m a coward. 

“We haven’t got all night, Hawk Eyes.”

The rage in those teasing words had Mihawk’s hair standing on end. 

I deserve it. I deserve every ounce of anger he wants to drown me in. Don’t be a fucking coward. 

“There you are,” Shanks cheered, holding his arm out wide in welcome, a mostly empty bottle of wine sloshing in his hand. “My gracious host. Take a seat.”

Mihawk walked through the wine scented air, joining his old friend on that pretty, green couch. He wanted to stab himself in the leg for his urge to caution Shanks against spilling red onto the velvet cushions, or onto his stolen clothes that the emperor looked stunning in, even in his haggard state.

“Don’t be so stiff, Hawky,” Shanks laughed, turning to lounge against the armrest. He stretched his legs across Mihawk’s lap, shoving the bottle toward him until the swordsman took it, chugging the rest. 

“What would you like to discuss,” Mihawk drawled, reaching for another already opened bottle on the side table. He almost smiled at how annoyed he used to get when Shanks would open every bottle in sight before drinking, just in case he couldn’t open them later.

He tried to at least look relaxed, but there was nowhere to rest his feet. Servants had cleaned up the splintered remains of Crocodile’s rage, but they hadn’t replaced the coffee table yet. Guilt started filling him again at the thought of all the lovely and terrible things he’d done on that table.

“Gee, I wonder,” Shanks mocked, snatching the new bottle, and taking a generous swig. “Why don’t we start at the beginning?”

 

~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🗡️🔴🗡️~~~

 

Shanks was glad the wine had dulled him, because his desire to kill the swordsman was still incredibly high.

Instead, he drank more. 

And more. 

Then he started, and he couldn’t stop. 

“You left me in that tavern,” Shanks growled, almost reaching out to strangle the man when he had the gall to look confused.

The tavern… Of course.

Shame. An incredible amount of shame slammed into Mihawk, and all he could do was nod, grabbing another bottle for himself. Shanks had clearly prepared to stay on this couch, setting open bottles around everywhere, just waiting to spill. 

“You told me love was boring,” Shanks spat, an old scar scraping open. “Don’t be boring, Shanks.”

“I–”

“You laughed at me. I told you I loved you, and you laughed in my fucking face!”

Mihawk had to close his eyes, the burn of bile creeping up his throat. He tried to speak again, but Shanks wasn’t done seething. 

“You left me there. I got over it,” Shanks lied to himself. “We went back to drinking and fucking everytime we’d cross paths. So much fun, pretending that never happened. But I was okay with it.”

He gave a tired laugh at his own words, drinking more before he lost it. 

“You’re Dracule Mihawk. Heartless. Cold. Of course you couldn’t feel that with me. You couldn’t feel it with anyone. I could live with that.”

“I’m…”

Mihawk couldn’t stomach the pain moving across his friend’s face. He wanted to look away, to run away, but this was the least he could do. To witness what his selfishness had caused.

“But now? With Buggy,” Shanks choked, looking up and away while he swallowed the heat in his throat. It wasn’t enough, his voice cracking when he met those horrible, golden eyes again. “My Buggy? Now you’re taking the only other person... Why are you taking him from me?”

“Shanks, I…” Mihawk failed. There were muscles moving in his face that were weak, that had never been allowed to move before. 

Why does this hurt more than a fucking stab wound?

“What the fuck did I ever do to you,” Shanks cursed, stumbling off of the couch, his voice more manic with every step he took while he paced. “Were you sent from the fucking hells just to torture me? To take everything?”

“Please,” Mihawk begged. He didn’t know what he was begging for, but he couldn’t stop the need.

“You broke my fucking heart, Hawk! You laughed while you did it. And now you’re making me watch you… Why the fuck are you doing this to me?”

Shanks couldn’t think, couldn’t even drink, dropping the bottle to stain the soft carpet before tearing at his hair. He needed to fucking scream, to rage, to fight. Anything but let these pathetic tears keep burning in his eyes for this fucking monster. 

“I’m so sorry,” the monster breathed, barely able to speak over the hatred that had replaced every drop of blood in his body. Hatred for himself, for a life wasted, for this pain. This pain that he’d… “I wish—”

“Wish what? Wish there was something else I love that you could fucking destroy? Why don’t you go slice my ship in two, huh? Go ahead, kill my crew. Then you’ll really get me. Take fucking everything you fucking demon. You fucking–”

“I’m sorry,” Mihawk cried out. Falling to his knees, he managed to grab Shanks’ hand with both of his, bowing his head against all those shaking fingers. He begged as he’d never done a day in his life. He cried more tears than he knew existed in his cold, unfeeling body. He let those tears fall onto their hands, vicious sobs ripping through him as he felt his heart break from his own selfish cruelty and cowardice. 

“I’m so sorry, Shanks. I don’t know what to… I know I can’t do anything. I don’t know why it took me so long, I hate… I fucking hate myself for this. I wish I could…”

Mihawk pulled at his hand, desperately crying at his feet, and Shanks was frozen. Shock wasn’t strong enough for the sight before him. The red haired pirate was stunned. He couldn’t fucking believe what was happening. After Mihawk cried enough to soak all their fingers in salty tears, Shanks plopped onto the floor in front of him, leaving his hand to be cradled like one of the stray kittens Mihawk had saved. 

“You didn’t do this on purpose?”

Shanks’ quiet wonderment pulled fresh tears and pleading from the world’s greatest swordsman. 

“No,” Mihawk laughed, raw and weak. “Gods, no. I’d do anything to fix this, but I…”

He caught those gorgeous brown eyes, wide as they scanned his wretched face. 

“I’m a monster. I destroy everything around me. I wish I’d never met–”

Salty, quivering lips, a touch that stopped their breath. Old friends, old lovers, having their first real kiss after decades behind masks. 

They clung to each other, ignoring everything they knew they’d have to deal with. For now, Mihawk and Shanks poured every feeling they’d ever held back into each other. 

For now, they kissed.

 

~~~🔴🗡️🔴🗡️~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

 

It’s cold.

Star!?

Buggy reached for nothing, a moment of panic that didn’t fade when he moved his arms around the empty bed. The bed that should have had three of his lovers on it. 

Maybe four…

“Y/N? Are you in here, star?”

Buggy’s body floated through the room in pieces, a silent search that offered no clues, no relief from the pressure around his lungs.

Gone. Everyone’s gone. 

Why would they all leave me here alone? Are they okay? Why didn’t they–

They didn’t want me.

Buggy choked on that thought. Choked on how fucking loud it was. Choked on the fears he’d been swimming in since his old friend had dropped back into his life. 

What if I make the wrong choice? What if I lose everything? 

What if I end up alone again?

He pulled his body together, fighting the sick feeling swirling in his gut while he found his pajama pants. 

“It’s fine. Everything’s fine. They all just got hungry at the same time, and left me all alone.”

His comforting words turned sour too fast, and he took deep breaths like he did before taking the stage. 

“Y/N? Are you out here,” he called softly, the long, empty corridor stretching on like a nightmare, like he’d never find his love again. 

“In here, Buggy.”

The clown caught himself, cutting off the yelp he’d let out at the deep whisper from the door across the hall. 

“Quiet,” Crocodile ordered, barely audible from Adam’s room. 

Buggy held his breath when he opened the door, but still couldn’t breathe when he found the owner of that voice. Crocodile was leaning back against the wall, sitting on the floor. Y/N was curled up beside him while Adam was snuggled into a tight circle on a throw pillow, perched atop the ex-warlord’s lap. 

The clown just stared for a minute until Crocodile sighed. 

“Can you help me? I don’t wanna wake up our girl.”

The larger man raised a brow, glaring until Buggy moved, floating his arms as carefully as he could to lift Y/N into the air. 

Our girl…

 

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🤡🐊🤡🐊~~~

 

Do I just push it off? Will I hurt it?

Crocodile wanted to give his full attention to his pretty lovers as they left this ridiculous room, but he studied the purring cat as if it were a ticking bomb. 

He shifted, tilting slightly as he tugged a corner of the throw pillow to slide it off of his lap. 

Adam made a sleepy, disgruntled noise as he squeezed his paws over his face, almost like pulling a blanket over his eyes to ward off the morning. 

Crocodile snorted, startling the cat out of his relaxed, circular pose, just when he'd gotten the pillow off of his lap and onto the floor. 

Adam stretched toward him as he stood, but Crocodile had much cuter creatures he needed to cuddle. 

~~~

Our girl. 

Buggy didn’t think he’d ever held something with more care, not even his most explosive Buggy Balls. He carried Y/N to the center of that giant bed, floating random parts of his body to shove the pillows and blanket into place before setting her down.

“He’s calling.”

“Shh, baby. Just sleep now.”

Buggy set her up, his upper body floating above her while he made sure her face looked peaceful.

He bit his tongue to fight the surprised yelp he let out when a large hand touched his hip. 

He's so soft with her. 

Crocodile stood beside Buggy’s lower half at the foot of the bed, watching the gentle care his clown gave to their sleeping sweetheart. He chuckled at the shocked sound from Buggy’s throat, glad that it hadn’t woken her up. 

Buggy followed the ex-warlord after he jerked his head toward the far wall, sitting on the new loveseat. 

What happened to the old one?

“Come here,” Crocodile rasped. Buggy hesitated, but let himself be pulled into that world, Crocodile’s warm arm wrapping around his shoulders as he leaned down to whisper. “Sorry we left you alone, little clown. Didn’t wanna interrupt your beauty sleep.”

The tiny noise that escaped Buggy’s lips made Crocodile want to keep teasing. He was looking forward to making his little clown blush and squirm for him.

But their girl needed them tonight. 

“Thank you for protecting her from me. I’ll never be able to repay that debt.”

Buggy was shaking. All the words Crocodile had spoken to him the last few days were overwhelming, confusing, enticing. 

These words held respect, and it hurt. Pride almost poured in, but Buggy couldn’t help but wait for the joke. 

He was everyone’s favorite punchline. 

Crocodile frowned at the frown on Buggy's face. 

“Help me protect her,” he urged, holding his hand out as he stood. “She needs you right now, Buggy.”

The clown stood slowly, unsteady on his feet as he blinked up at that frightening face. 

That face that had terrorized him. Had made him fight, pathetically fail to fight, just for the slim chance that he could save his star from whatever harm this monster might inflict. 

That face that had made her smile, made her scream, that had called him pretty things. 

That face leaned down, a slow smile hovering close. 

“All you gotta do is tell me what you want, little clown,” Crocodile purred, breathing in pleasure at the sight of those wide, crystal eyes, and those lips parted in soft awe while this pretty clown stared up at him. “Do you wanna help me take care of her?”

“Yes, daddy,” Buggy breathed, not realizing he’d spoken until the words left his lips.

“Good boy.”

They shared a kiss, quiet and quick before they cradled their sleeping girl, and fell into dreams. 

That quiet kiss held a weight, a heaviness that seemed to anchor them in place. To draw them close. But for now, they left the kiss where it was.

For now, they slept.

 

~~~🤡🐊🤡🐊~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🗡️🔴🗡️~~~

 

Whimpers.

There’d never been so many panicked whimpers between them. Plenty of needy whines, hungry moans, and filthy gasps, but the noises that left their throats tonight needed their own word. 

Tonight, true need flowed through them. A need to make up for every moment they should have cherished. 

Mihawk thought his tears were done, but every time they’d pull back to take a breath, he’d see Shanks’ face. His old friend. That lovely, crooked smile. 

“You gonna help me feel good, bright eyes,” Shanks teased, his voice shaky as it fought for lightness. “I’d say it’s the least you can do.”

The swordsman barked a healing laugh, stretching his body toward the ceiling before wrapping his arms around Shanks’ neck, twisting his fingers into that red hair. 

“I think I owe you a lifetime’s worth of pleasure. How can I—“

“Take your fucking clothes off, slut,” Shanks grinned, his body pulsing at how those simple words made his friend’s eyes flutter with need. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

Mihawk couldn’t hold in a moan at those deep, burning words. His hands flew to work, tearing each garment away from them both, not giving a fuck about where they landed. Not giving a fuck about anything besides feeling Shanks’ perfect cock, rubbing his hands along that silky flesh, licking at him, savoring his taste like the finest of wines. 

“There you are,” Shanks purred, stroking his fingers through Mihawk’s hair as those intense eyes stared up at him. “I always knew you were good. So good for me. Just wanna please me, huh?”

“Mhm,” Mihawk nodded, voice muffled around that thick cock. 

“This’ll be even more satisfying than usual,” Shanks laughed before he yanked Mihawk off of him, tearing at that soft, black hair while the swordsman twitched in painful pleasure. “That’s what you want, isn’t it? My golden boy doesn’t wanna be a monster. You just wanna get fucked by a monster.”

“Fuck, Shanks, plea–”

“Shut your mouth,” Shanks ordered, giving that perfect face a back handed slap. “You shouldn’t have gotten so good at fighting, friend. Can’t get off to getting fucking wrecked if no one can touch you. Must be so desperate, huh, baby? Want me to hurt you?”

Mihawk's eyes were already rolling white, his tongue hanging loose while he nodded. 

“Think you deserve that? If you can’t even let me hear your pretty voice?”

“Shanks, need you so bad. Hurt me, daddy, pleease...” 

“That’s what I fucking thought,” Shanks bragged, pleasure running through him. “Take me to a room I can fuck you in. Need to teach my little hole a lesson.”

“The table,” Mihawk gasped, reaching over the pull at the drawer of the side table, revealing a bottle of lube and a hand towel.

“You fucking slut,” Shanks laughed, shoving Mihawk onto his stomach before grabbing the lube. He poured it over his old friend's ass, smirking at how he twitched when the cold liquid touched his skin, dripping down onto that sensitive little hole he was about to rip apart. Watching his fingers sinking into him wasn’t nearly enough. “Tell me what you want.”

“Want you so–”

“Tell me what my slutty little boy wants before I walk out that fucking door.”

“Hurt me, daddy,” Mihawk cried out, his body twitching and curling with need, the rough fingers inside of him driving him mad. “Hurt me, fuck me so fucking hard, please.”

He was almost sobbing with that plea, his body on fire. 

Shanks. 

Gods, it was Shanks.  

He was–

“How’d you like that,” Shanks taunted, eating up the sight of Mihawk’s reddened ass, the brutal slap bringing a filthy moan from the man’s throat. 

“So good, daddy, please more,” he begged, “Hurt me, ruin– Fuuucck, daddyyy! Mmn, please…”

“That’s right,” Shanks growled, his body taking what it needed from the willing and desperate flesh beneath it. “Missed daddy's cock so bad, huh? Slutty little hole, just waiting for me to find you, to fuck you like the nasty whore you are?”

“Yes, please,” Mihawk begged, drooling onto the carpet.

“Gonna come for daddy? Gonna come like a good little slut?”

“P-please, hurt–”

“Ha, greedy little hole,” Shanks laughed, shoving harder, deeper, while Mihawk made such, delicious, pathetic noises. “Tell me what you are first, and daddy might be nice.”

“I'm your slut, daddy’s whore, your nasty little hole, your–”

Mihawk came onto the plush carpet when Shanks bit into his neck, teeth sinking deep as the red haired pirate filled his needy ass with come. 

“Shanks, daddy…”

Shanks growled through that mouthful of skin, his last few thrusts more brutal at the memory of someone else getting called by his name. But then his eyes rolled back as he finished sinking himself into the perfect body of his old friend. 

His old something more. 

Mihawk whimpered, gasping when Shanks released his neck to kiss, and lick, and breathe along that sensitive skin. Shanks hummed with pleasure at those sweet little sounds, his cock still twitching inside that needy hole. 

“Missed me, didn’t you,” Shanks breathed, heat and satisfaction radiating from him. 

“Always,” Mihawk told the truth. “I always miss you.”

 

~~~🔴🗡️🔴🗡️~~~

~~~~~~

 

“What’s he doing here?”

“Good morning to you too.”

“Shh, she’s still sleeping.”

“We need to get ready, it’s–”

“Daddy?”

You found yourself about to cry when sleep was torn away, but all of those voices reminded you of what a strange world you seemed to be caught in. A world that you hoped was real, even if it meant more torment, more people using you. 

Pros and cons. 

One of the pros was opening your eyes to find four incredibly powerful, beautiful men on that giant bed with you. All staring at you like you were precious. Like you were worth more than your name. 

I’m definitely crazy.

“Shh, babygirl,” Crocodile soothed, kissing your temple to quiet your sick laughter before it could take over another day. 

Too tired to panic today, anyway.

Today...

Oh fuck.

Notes:

I LOVED writing this one, I hope you enjoyed reading it!

Chapter 22: Do What You Always Do

Summary:

It's the morning of the big event, and these lovers are distracted, stuck in own their minds. Too many truths, and too many fears seem to pull everyone apart.

Notes:

This chapter contains big DRAMA, GUILT, & SMUT. Pretty much no one's having a good morning until they decide to blow off some steam. Our lovely reader is NOT in a good mental state right now with all of her fears looming today, but the majority of the chapter is from the boy's POV. I apologize for all the angst, I swear this story won't be so angsty forever! 😭😬

~~~

🌲 ~ Flashbacks from Reader's Past | 🐊 ~ Crocodile | 🗡 ~ Mihawk | 🤡 ~ Buggy | 🔴 ~ Shanks | ⚫ ~ Scenes depicting panic attacks and/or big trauma (These symbols will bracket sections to denote the POV shift)

~~~🐊🐊🐊~~~

 

“Shh, babygirl,” Crocodile soothed, kissing Y/N’s temple to quiet the hint of that sick laughter on her lips. She’d woken up with the word ‘daddy,’ on her tongue, but the tinge of sorrow in her voice, and the sheen of sweat on her skin told him she hadn’t been calling for him. 

The sight of that red-haired bastard in his bed would have sent him into violence, but he couldn’t look away from her, from her quivering lips. He brushed the hair from her face, trying to smile, trying to be comforting.

Don’t leave me, sweetheart. Not before I can help you with this.

The thought of his girl all alone after that trauma, all alone without her father to care for her so young hit him deep. It felt like he’d been gutted by his own hook. 

It’s my fault. She’s gonna leave because I’m a monster. 

The image of her terror filled eyes wouldn’t shake loose from his mind, just as she couldn’t shake loose from his hook around her neck. Her feet had dangled, tears staining her cheeks while she held her tongue to protect her lover. 

Told her I’d kill her. Told her I’d sell her. Told her–

Crocodile had to look away from her, clenching his eyes shut to ward off the vision in his mind. 

The vision of hurting her. Hurting something, someone precious to him. Skewering her on his hook like a piece of meat, the scent of her blood on the wind as it soaked into the sand below her.

No.

Shanks was distracting his boys. Buggy’s eyes were wide as the red haired pirate leaned over to kiss his shoulder, rubbing his hand along the swordsman’s thigh while he did.

But Mihawk was looking at him.

Crocodile glanced away quickly, telling himself it was because that sight was too annoying to deal with this early. 

It was. 

“Come with me, sweet girl. Since these boys clearly have better things to do.”

“Looks like someone woke up on the—“

“Don’t be an ass, Shanks. We have a lot to take care of this morning,” Mihawk scolded. Crocodile clenched his jaw at the teasing lilt in his little prince's voice. More than sex.

More than what he'd shared with him.

Y/N crawled out of bed to take Crocodile’s hand, his clown following close behind to kiss her on the cheek. 

She’s the one that needs our attention.

Shanks looked too pleased after Mihawk’s reprimand, apologizing while he kissed up the back of his neck. The swordsman’s argument was weak, his eyes fluttering shut when that red haired bastard nibbled on his ear. 

He lied. 

 

~~~🐊🐊🐊~~~

~~~~~~

 

The world was a blur, and you let yourself be guided, cared for. Breakfast was held before a line of servants and officers, all taking their turns in front of your intimidating group to give their reports, to take their orders. 

“I need to check with Alvida about the party favors. Why don’t you relax for a while, sweetheart? You’ve done enough.”

Your clown had already chugged his too-sweet coffee, running off to his chaotic day. He'd left his head behind just long enough to plant a soft kiss on your lips. 

“See ya, star.”

Of course, Shanks had snatched that blue hair, stealing a kiss from your grumbling clown before letting him loose.

Crocodile smiled down at you, his eyes looking strained while you tried to understand what he’d said. 

“I’ll be checking in with security, but I’ll be back with plenty of time to help you get ready, darling,” Mihawk purred, his voice breaking through your fog to make you shiver. “Not that my little rabbit needs any help looking exquisite. You look good enough to eat this morning, love.”

“Mm, you are a tasty, little bunny.”

“Enough.”

Crocodile’s voice sliced through the air, bringing all eyes to his. He shifted his hook onto his lap, the movement only bringing attention to the thin line scraped across the table. He cleared his throat, turning to you while he spoke to the other men.

“This will be a stressful day. Y/N has to pander to a bunch of rich idiots she hates, just so we can all make some berry. My sweet girl deserves to be treated like a princess today. Don’t you dare ignore her, and if you two treat her like one of your fucking toys, then she and I will be drinking your blood instead of wine tonight.”

A look almost like regret flashed across his face when your eyes went wide, but you took his offered hand, ignoring the men he’d just threatened for you. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he soothed, his thumb rubbing along the back of your hand almost nervously before he pressed it to his lips. “Daddy’s gonna be scary today. Never to you, though. Never again, babygirl. I swear it.”

Your mind was still keeping you behind a wall, trying to protect at least the deepest parts of you from the sting of their inevitable betrayal. Yet… Silver eyes pulled you in, chains tightening until you couldn’t breathe. He swore it.

He hates liars.

Chills ran over your skin while you nodded, but you still couldn’t. Couldn’t risk it. 

Never.

“I’ll go double check the seating arrangements,” you decided. “Make sure the ushers don’t accidentally cause an international crisis.”

“My girl,” Crocodile hummed, kissing your cheek before scowling at the remaining pirates. You stared at the expanse of his back as he disappeared down the corridor, until you gasped at the touch of Mihawk’s cold fingers on your thigh.

“I won’t be long, darling. I’ll come, and find you. We can… relax before the big show. I’ll help my little princess forget all her worries.”

“Don’t call me that,” you breathed with no bite, aching for whatever distraction he could give. “Please, sir. Just call me–”

“Rabbit,” he purred, taking your lips in a slow kiss that made you melt, dropping the fork you forgot you were holding. 

“The prettiest bunny rabbit I ever did see,” Shanks praised, his sweet words sounding so delightfully filthy while Mihawk trailed his lips down your jaw to your neck. You found those brown eyes looking at you with even more wicked mirth than usual. 

“Executive Dracule, sir…”

“Don’t try interrupting on a normal day,” Mihawk warned, leaving a few more kisses on your skin before following the security officer down the hall. 

“Can I walk you to work, bunny?”

You took that offered hand, letting the red haired pirate’s charm distract you for a little while.

 

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

 

This is a dream.

Waking up to a world where both Buggy and Mihawk were with him, touching him, smiling at him, kissing him…

It was unreal. Shanks didn’t think anything could sour this feeling. Not that big, scaly villain. Not the stupid, greedy party on the way. Not even the strange distance in her eyes. 

Not until that distance grew around her, throwing a bucket of ice over him. 

What’s wrong…

That worry brought guilt, not just for his selfish desire to ignore everything besides his long awaited bliss, but for the feeling that he’d caused it. He’d pushed her further than he meant to, even though he had wanted to help her.

I wanted Buggy more. 

There it was. The bliss was fading fast, replaced by the reality of what he’d done to get it. 

This sad, empty girl. She hadn’t been empty when he got here. She’d been feisty. Brave. She’d cared.

“Y/N?”

She ignored him, calling for one of the servants. Shanks watched her work, watched her body shift into someone else. It was unsettling, like a doll that was almost perfectly lifelike. Almost real.

The twisting in the pit of his stomach only grew.

“You don’t have to stay here. You can go find Buggy, or Mihawk,” she suggested lightly, a smile that was too serene on her face. 

“Is it alright if we talk, sugar? Away from…”

Y/N’s eyes unfocused for a few seconds before she nodded, leading him to a conference room connected to the large banquet hall. Leaning against the oval table, she was still frighteningly unreal. She tilted her head, waiting, but Shanks had to force himself to speak. Force himself to get out all the words he knew he should say, no matter how much it made him want to jump out a window. 

I can do this. She deserves to hear it. Just say it.

“I wanted to tell you,” Shanks started weakly, gaining momentum, “I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t consider your feelings enough when I… I’ve missed Buggy for so long, but that’s no excuse. I’m sorry I put so much pressure on you. I used you, and I’m so sorry. It wasn’t right, no matter how much pain I was in.”

Y/N stared, eyes wide, unblinking.

“Everything I said is still true,” he promised, caution pulsing through him. “I’ll protect you, both of you. I would love to have you on my ship, if that’s what you want. But I’m sorry I–”

“You love him?”

Movement in her eyes, movement as she touched his arm. Shanks could breathe again when he saw life return. 

He didn’t realize that he didn’t hesitate at all.

“I do.”

Sweet, sad smile. Why…

“Take him.”

…

“What,” Shanks rasped, his brows scrunched together as if he couldn’t hear, hadn’t heard her.

“I forgive you. Please, take him. You should be together.”

“Y/N, what about–”

“I want him to be happy,” she ordered, and his eyes flared at the sudden fire in her veins. The anger. “I can’t go with you. Please make him happy.”

This isn’t right. She’s not right.

“Bunny…”

“Don’t tell him,” Y/N hissed, a bit of herself in her eyes as she leaned toward him, pleading. “I’ll convince him. Just promise me, please.”

Shanks’ lips parted, staring down at this strange girl. She fisted his shirt in her hands to pull him in, and he couldn’t resist, drawn toward her like a magnet.

“Promise you’ll love him,” Y/N demanded, fierce words almost spat against his lips. “Promise you'll make him happy.”

“Y/N–”

“Promise me.”

He couldn’t lie. Not against that beautiful, tortured look in her eyes. Not against the desperation in her voice. 

Shanks couldn’t lie. 

“I’ll love him with everything in me.”

She relaxed, letting Shanks hold her to him, and he felt her body sink into a looseness that was more concerning than comforting. Guilt filled him. Guilt and fear for what he’d put her through. For what she was running from, refusing their help with. It wasn't right.

“Please, let me help–”

“I just need a minute, thank you,” Y/N soothed. She pushed away from him gently, her voice calm, empty. “I’ll be fine.”

“Bunny, I can–”

“I asked you to fucking leave. ”

Her fists had clenched, nails digging in while they shook over her lap, eyes going vicious when she snarled at him. 

What have I done?

“I’ll be fine. Just need a minute,” she smiled. The dissonance between those pleasant words, and the rage she’d just shoved down deep made this Emperor of the Sea’s hair stand on end. “Please.”

“Of course,” he gave in, leaving her presence slowly, backing away as if she were going to transform before his eyes. She didn’t. Y/N kept that empty, almost smile, and it made him want to throw up. 

What the fuck have I done?

“Don’t tell anyone.”

Ice slid down Shanks’ spine when he stared at her from the doorway, her bland face still hiding that wrong voice.

“You owe me.”

Shanks didn’t know he could feel this nauseated. Didn’t know he could feel this disgusted with himself while he looked at this sweet, sick girl that he’d played with too recklessly. 

“I won’t tell,” he breathed, the words feeling like bile in his throat. “I’ll just say you wanted a break.”

She thanked him. 

Shanks’ body walked away, but his mind couldn't. His guilt wouldn’t let him.

She thanked him for stealing her love. She thanked him for leaving her with that poison in her smile, that evil in her voice. The red haired pirate left that empty girl sitting on the conference table. He ran away from her like a frightened child. 

He had no fucking idea what to do.

“There’s the layabout,” Mihawk drawled as Shanks charged into the corridor. “Need me to find you a job to–”

“Y/N’s taking a break in the conference room,” he choked out, wanting to keep his promise, but still send her help, knowing that his eyes were crazed. “I think she could use some company.”

Mihawk knew him. Hawk could read him like a fucking book. The swordsman’s nostrils flared as if searching for her scent on the air, and he didn’t say a word before charging past Shanks. 

Charging past the coward that hurt her. That hurt the girl that both of his…

The man that hurt that sweet girl.

Fuck.

 

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

 

That’s good.

That’s better. 

That means everything else is fine. 

Your feet dangled off the edge of the table while your eyes floated, not pulled toward anything while you imagined Buggy smiling, adventuring with his true love. The thoughts were relaxing, taking you out. 

If that happens, then everything is okay. Nothing else matters. 

“Little rabbit?”

“Hi, Mihawk,” you smiled, wanting him to take the rest away. “Are you here to help me relax?”

 

~~~~~~

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

 

“Who’s having a breakdown in the dressing room,” Buggy sighed, surprised at how well everything else was going. “Eliza? Why?”

Buggy stomped backstage, eyes scanning everyone, every stage hand, every performer, every prop lined up on the table. He sent a hand just to nudge something more into place, an unnecessary action as he’d done so well at preparing for this night.

Too well.

Buggy felt on edge without things to fix or people to yell at before a show. He couldn’t just sit around and wait, he’d go fucking insane. Especially with the confusing picture of the extra lover on the bed this morning stuck in his head. Especially with Y/N's smiles, so fake that he couldn't break through, couldn't find her. Especially when the weight of everyone’s happiness seemed to be on his fucking shoulders. How was he supposed to…

Nope. 

Thinking was bad. Out of the question, especially before the show.

Luckily, his best aerial dancer was having issues. He almost whistled on his way over there, but didn’t want his crew to think he was happy, to get complacent.

No one takes a happy clown seriously.

 

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Everything was right there. Everything he’d ever wanted.

More than that.

Shanks had spent decades wishing that one of his loves would be his. He’d tried to find another, but there was no one like Buggy. There was no one like Mihawk. 

He’d built this moment up in his mind for years now. This would be his chance to be with Buggy. To offer him the life they should have had. Find him, take him away, and have that adventure they’d always dreamed about. Finally hold him, keep him, make him smile.

The Emperor of the Sea was pacing through the corridor, his mistakes playing on a loop in his mind while he tried to figure out what to do, what to say.

Shanks scoffed at himself for his confidence. All these years of dreaming, and worrying, and hoping, yet he’d just walked in here fully believing that Buggy would take his hand. That Buggy would leave everything behind. 

That Buggy wouldn’t have anything to leave behind.

Piece of shit.

He had to lean against a wall, staring down at his feet while even more nausea flooded through him. This place had shoved a mirror inside his mind, forcing him to look.

Red Haired Shanks didn’t fucking like what he saw.

I didn’t think anyone else would love Buggy.  

Sinking to the floor, Shanks wallowed in guilt. He was about to spill his shame across the fancy carpet, the burning in his throat too fucking much. 

Buggy. 

All those years spent telling him the truth about how wonderful, how beautiful, how talented he was, yet Shanks didn’t think anyone else would see it. Not like he could. He couldn’t decide what that said about him, but it was foul. 

Resting his head back against the wall, Shanks realized how fucking greedy he’d gotten. 

They fucking tortured him! Crocodile is a tyrant!

Somehow those truths were sounding more and more like excuses. Especially after Shanks saw what they had here. That sweet girl that he’d prodded until her pain came out, breaking her into pieces…

Buggy loved her. Jealousy had taken him over, but the more he saw, the more he wanted it all. He needed to take them both away. To have that sort of love for himself. To have Buggy, to see him smile like he does with her.

The greed only got worse the more he watched the men touching his clown, how they all seemed happy, and the pain of Mihawk got all wrapped into it. 

Shanks had woken this morning with greed instead air in his lungs. The sight of Crocodile last night with his three beautiful lovers. The sight of the four of them together like that was more than he’d ever imagined, and after last night with Hawk, the red haired pirate knew what he needed. 

All of them. I’m taking all of them.

Everything had been at his fingertips. He’d seen something so bright that he had to take it for himself. 

A butterfly, crushed to death by the child that wanted to look at its pretty wings.

I’m losing them all. So close. I ruined it. I hurt… I don’t deserve… 

He wasn’t used to this. The guilt he still felt with Buggy felt distant, the mistakes of youth, and he was just waiting for the day he could make up for it all. This new guilt was caustic, too fresh, and made him question the kind of man he thought he was. 

A hateful laugh left Shanks' throat while he stayed slumped on the floor, pathetic pity and self loathing drowning him deep.

I guess I’m the villain here.

 

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~

 

Why is she? What happened? I should have been listening to her. I should have–

“You said you’d help me forget all my worries.”

Mihawk stood just inside the conference room door, almost trembling at the sight of her. 

Beautiful. 

Wrong.

“Please, sir. I need you.”

These last few days had shaken the world’s greatest swordsman to his core. He’d always taken what he wanted. Didn’t care. He never hesitated. 

Yet, Y/N had trapped him. Mihawk’s lips parted, almost dizzy from the battle within him. Paralyzed.

Need. 

She needs help. Something’s not right. She needs me. She’s trying to use her body against me, to manipulate me. She needs me. 

“Mihawk,” she begged, and the hint of pain in her voice sent him to her. He touched her, felt her cold hands, kissed her temple, pressed her against his chest while panic set in. 

“Tell me what’s wrong, darling.”

Need her to be alright.

“I’m fine,” she lied, but he wouldn’t tell. “Just waiting for you. Do what you always do. Be mean. Hurt me. Make me need you. Make me forget.”

Guilt. 

He’d been so caught up in Shanks, that he hadn’t seen her fall this far. Guilt at the thought of pushing her, of not listening to what she wanted right now. Guilt for his aching need to punish her, take her.

Gods, her scent… Can’t. Can’t.

“Please, love, let me help– fuck.”

“Help me by hurting me,” she ordered, releasing the flesh from her mouth where she’d bitten his chest. He’d thrown his head back, moaning at how perfectly she’d controlled him. Moaning at the need to make her pay for it. 

Pulling himself out of that chaos was almost painful. 

“Y/N–”

“Pretend.”

She sliced up his back, brutal nails down his skin under his jacket. He lost it.

She needs me. 

“You’re fucking lucky that we need you pretty for the party, darling,” Mihawk growled, loving her desperate yelp when he grabbed her, cruel hands flipping her, shoving her face down onto the table. He held both of her wrists in one of his hands behind her back, using his free hand to lift her dress.

“So wet for me,” he taunted as he pulled himself free, teasing his cock over her pretty pussy, still hidden beneath those soaked panties. “This what my little rabbit needs?”

“F-fuck me– fuck!”

The delicious sound of her panties ripping as he tore them from her was nothing compared to the sweet, muffled cries she let out when he shoved the wet fabric into her mouth. Her eyes were fluttering for him, her body writhing, her hips trying desperately to move toward his, begging, fucking begging for him. 

“You haven’t been very polite today, rabbit,” Mihawk drawled, satisfaction running through him as he forced his cock into her. She was always so wet, so ready for him, but with no prep, and with her legs trapped from how he had her bent over the table, he couldn’t hold in a moan at how fucking tight she was. “So you’ll get just what you asked for. How’s this for mean– Ha, my little vixen. Coming so soon?”

He could barely hold on. The swordsman could still feel the sting where she’d scratched his back, deep enough to draw blood. The thought of his red on her fingertips made him forget, made him hold her down, made him fucking take her.

“Mine.”

Mihawk fisted her hair, yanking until her back arched painfully over the table. Seeing the drool from her stuffed mouth just made him fuck her harder, blind to everything but her perfect, pliant body. He hadn’t realized that he’d released her hands until she reached up behind her, clawing her nails into his wrist while he pulled at that pretty hair.

“My wicked angel,” he praised, a dangerous chuckle following the moan her lovely pain had pulled from him. He had to fight to keep from slamming her face back down on the table, from fucking her throat until she choked and cried, from slicing his own red lines across that gorgeous skin. 

Just enough presence of mind to remember that he shouldn’t wreck her too much, although he couldn’t remember why. 

“Fucking mine,” he growled, spellbound by her sweet, greedy cunt, and her weak, little fingers still trying to hurt him. Her body danced for his again, struggling against his rough grip while she spasmed, milking his cock like she was made for it. 

“Hear that, darling? You’re mine. My rabbit. My love. Fucking need you, fuuck…”

His last, dangerous words were snarled like threats as he thrust so fucking deep, making her cry while he spilled his hot pleasure inside her, stuffing her full until it dripped down her shaking thighs. 

Ragged breaths, and their frantic hearts were all they could hear as he released her soft hair from his cruel fingers. Still twitching, he was unable to resist the urge to watch his cock sink back into her a few times before leaving her body. Leaving a sticky, beautiful mess that he almost cleaned up with his tongue.

Until the world returned.

“Fuck, are you alright, rabbit?”

“Mhm,” she hummed lazily, tugging the ruined panties from her mouth. She kept humming, and sighing for him while he helped her move. He was extremely grateful for the box of tissues on that long conference table while he wiped up his extravagant mess.

Mihawk focused on her, focused on caring for her, focused and focused, and didn’t think about the things he’d said. That was easier than he expected once guilt crashed over him again.

Y/N. She’s hurting. She’s lost. And I just used her again. Used her like a toy. 

I’m still a fucking monster. 

“Thank you,” she purred, resting her head in the crook of his neck while he carried her to the suite. Carried her to where he’d been looking forward to getting her ready. Looking forward to dressing up his pretty doll. 

All the relief that last night with Shanks had brought him seemed stale. Too little, too late. No matter how much forgiveness he was granted, nothing could take away everything he’d done. Nothing could fix what he’d done to her, and now his greed was twisting him further. 

What was the point of deciding not to be a monster, if he would just give in to this compulsion, this sick need? A need that he knew he was going to succumb to. Had to give in to.

Mihawk hoped he wouldn't have to be a monster for this.

I need her. No matter what happens.

I need her by my side.

 

~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~

~~~~~~

 

You felt so good.

Relaxed.

Buggy would be safe and happy, and they would keep pretending until the end. You wanted to hope that you’d have more time than just tonight, that they hadn’t made a deal so soon, but you couldn’t afford to hope. 

So you accepted it. Whatever they did, whatever happened, you’d made your deal with yourself. Buggy safe. They pretend. You enjoy every last moment with these beautiful villains before they send you back…

Send you back to choose your fate. Pros and cons.

If he even gives me a choice now.

Mihawk sat you down on the edge of the bed. He kissed your cheek, and called you pretty things, and you followed your own orders while he dolled you up. 

Time to pretend.

 

~~~~~~

Notes:

Oh gobs, how y'all doing? I know things seemed like they could be hunky dory at the end of the last chapter, but I hope you'll forgive me for exploring the messy minds of our big bad pirates. I just couldn't let them off scot free, alright? They needed to sit down, and think about what they've done 😅

Chapter 23: Here They Come

Summary:

Party's about to start. Can everybody pull themselves together amidst more untimely confrontations?

Notes:

Heeyyy, so still hella drama, but not nearly as much trauma this time around. And of course, the smut! There's a new symbol for POV shifting.⏰ paired with one or more of the boys will be a flashback of their past. I hope you enjoy! (Smutty flashbacks occur during adulthood of all parties involved!)

 

Alternate POV Symbols:
🌲 ~ Flashbacks from Reader's Past | 🐊 ~ Crocodile | 🗡 ~ Mihawk | 🤡 ~ Buggy | 🔴 ~ Shanks | ⏰ ~ Flashbacks for listed POV | ⚫ ~ Scenes depicting panic attacks &/or big trauma (These symbols bracket sections to denote the POV shift)

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

Gods, he’s dull.

He stared at you from across the decadent table, though the candlelight dancing in the crystal glasses was all you wanted to look at. 

“I hear you’re quite the mathematician,” the faceless suitor cooed, almost pulling you out of your daze. “That you’re actually working at a bank?”

“Yes, I—“

“What a unique hobby,” he patronized, making you fight not to roll your eyes.

Not worth it. Not even close.

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

 

I love the way he touches me.

You stopped your mind, refusing to go down the dangerous road it was headed. Enjoying every last moment of pretend with them was all you needed. You couldn’t lose yourself in comfort and hope so deep that you forgot it was about to end. 

Yet, those long, dangerous fingers were so good at making you forget everything. 

Mihawk’s touch could be cruel, vicious, intoxicating. Yet, there was something different about times like these as he helped you get ready for the party. Right now, his fingers felt reverent. 

He was a sculptor. An artist who valued beauty, and pleasure above all things. You were both his medium, and his muse. You were the clay, and the marble. His teasing, dancing fingers would call you forth, bringing you out to meet the world. 

Bringing you to life.

Stop.

Just need to enjoy it. Enjoy his scent, his touch, his hypnotizing voice. 

I’ll take these daydreams with me.

“How’s my little rabbit? Would you like an espresso?”

Huffing a laugh after he caught you in a yawn, you felt yourself slipping. Slipping into grief while you ached to savor every moment you could, but your body wouldn’t let you. Exhaustion was ripping you into useless pieces.

“Do I have enough time for a nap?”

The pity in his eyes turned your stomach.

It’s true. This is my last night.

“Of course, darling. I’ll wake you when it’s time to finish up.”

Gratitude couldn’t leave your lips, even after he wrapped your hair in silk, laying you gently on that massive bed. Even as he left you in the dark. 

Yet, gratitude filled you for the sleep that came quickly, instead of leaving you to scream against the pain and rage in your heart. 

No dreams. 

Thank fuck for no dreams.

 

~~~~~~

~~~🐊🗡️🐊🗡️~~~

 

Mihawk snuck out of the darkened suite, flashing his golden eyes toward Crocodile’s heavy steps while he shut the door softly. 

Scowling at the swordsman, Crocodile tried to shove down the unease that had been building all fucking day. Y/N. Red Hair. Y/N. Mihawk. Y/N. The stupid, fucking party. 

And the thought of how Y/N would react to the party favors.

Crocodile chided himself, wishing he’d explained it to her before everything got fucked. Now his sweet girl was gonna see—

“She’s taking a nap.” Mihawk cut off that spiral, his hushed tone relaxing as he moved away from the door. “I’ll help her finish soon, she just needs…”

“Is she alright?”

Mihawk tried not to let the guilt in his gut pour out of him, meeting those silver eyes before nodding toward the middle suite. Noting the tension buzzing through Crocodile’s large body. 

“Answer me,” he demanded, fighting to keep his voice down. The ex-warlord wanted to be farther away so he could let this feeling out, but he couldn’t go too far from her. Not when she needed him like this. 

“Our numbers girl is not well,” Mihawk reported, sinking into self hatred as the image of her tired eyes haunted him. “Can we do this party without her? Can we let her sleep?”

Crocodile wanted to ride on his anger, but the weakness in the swordsman’s voice made him pause. 

He cares for her.

“Let’s let her decide,” he rasped, resisting the urge to run into that room to hold her, to beg at her feet for her to stay. The thought of her staying because she feared his reaction made his bones ache, not sure of anything he could do that wouldn’t hurt her. He slumped onto the edge of the bed, his own exhaustion remarkably heavier than after a brutal fight. 

The crack of wood beneath him made him curse, hoping he hadn’t woken his sweet girl. 

“Did you just break the bed,” Mihawk choked, fighting a laugh as the terrifying ex-warlord ungracefully pulled himself up from the caved-in mattress, shards of wood scattered across the lovely carpet. 

“I wasn’t paying attention,” he sighed, nudging a hunk of splintered wood with a freshly shined shoe. 

“I’m amazed that our little green couch has survived this long,” Mihawk teased. He walked toward the larger man, almost forgetting for a moment. 

“I like that couch,” Crocodile grumbled, still frowning at the destruction he’d caused so casually. 

I’m gonna hurt her without even meaning to. I hurt everything.

“I think we all like that couch,” the swordsman purred, resting his hand on Crocodile’s arm. Guilt was almost stuffing itself down while he distracted himself, focusing on the man before him.

“Is that where you and Red Hair were last night? Enjoying our couch while our girl needed us?”

The words came out in a quiet rage, but rage nonetheless. The fact that Crocodile hadn’t already hurt this golden eyed liar was making him dizzy. 

She needs us. It’ll hurt her. Can’t hurt her. Won’t hurt her. 

A constant mantra to keep himself from violence. Y/N’s gorgeous, frightened eyes were like a muzzle in his mind. The urge to bite wasn’t trained away yet, his body just one small push away from giving in.

Never again. 

He still felt sick. 

Mihawk removed his hand, a strange laughter struggling to leave his throat. After what he’d done to Y/N, he hadn’t given a thought to how his new lover might be feeling about his old one. It never even crossed his mind. 

I haven’t changed at all. 

“Shanks—“

“Your close friend,” Crocodile hissed, clenching his fist, trying so fucking hard to navigate anger without violence. 

Fuck. Maybe she won’t miss this asshole if I kill him. Maybe. 

“Yes, we—“

“You’re gonna leave with them, aren’t you?” His fears rocked through him. The ones he hadn’t let fully take shape in his mind. “You’re gonna take Y/N, and Buggy, and you… you’re all gonna leave the monster behind.”

Crocodile hated every pathetic sound that had just left his lips. He sat down against the wall to avoid breaking more furniture, but it only reminded him of last night. His sweet girl, trusting him with her deepest pain. Trusting him to protect her. Heat filled his throat, and he wanted to spit it out.

“It’s up to her,” Mihawk whispered, not sure what to feel as he watched this mountain of a man clench his eyes shut in pain, not from battle, but from the fear of losing…

Mihawk joined him on the floor, trying not to care about his coat. He leaned his head back against the wall, too tired to resist these new, uncomfortable urges. This new, uncomfortable need to stop hurting everyone. To care. To try.

“I’m sorry I brought him into bed without asking you.”

Crocodile sighed, too caught up to think about how many times Dracule fucking Mihawk had apologized to him the last few days. One time was wild enough, and it seemed to be a lie. 

This time…

“Why did you act like he didn’t mean anything to you,” he whispered, letting this conversation take part of his mind away from his worries about her. 

Mihawk let out a harsh laugh, covering those pretty eyes with his hands while he stretched and groaned, arching his back toward the ceiling. 

Why is all of this so fucking hard? 

“I acted like that because I am a liar,” he confessed, waiting for the sting of a hook that didn’t come. “I lied to myself. I was a coward, and a bad person.”

They both gave a tiny smile, surprised to catch that look on the other’s face when the two ex-warlords met eyes. 

“Trying not to be a monster is proving to be a more difficult challenge than I had anticipated.”

Truth, painful truth filled the swordsman’s words, and Crocodile didn’t fight his new, uncomfortable need.

His need to care for all of his beautiful, little lovers. To keep them from pain.

“We’re partners, right? How about we help each other with that,” he offered, spreading his arm out wide, hoping Mihawk would join him. Needing it. Needing all of them. “Maybe mean ol’ Crocodile, and his selfish little prince can learn not to be monsters. At least not to everyone.”

“I thought you hated liars,” Mihawk teased, scanning the other man for hints of violence. Trying to process all of those strange words. 

“I’m trying out this new thing,” he huffed, shaking his head while he waited for warmth beside him. “Don’t get used to it.”

Mihawk gave a real laugh now, cutting himself off to stay quiet. He scooted over, resting his head against Crocodile’s chest while that terrifying and comforting arm curled around him. 

This is nice, they both thought.

“You know, I was still pretty naughty,” Mihawk purred, unable to resist. “You should probably punish me any–”

“Oh, you’ll get what you deserve, little prince,” Crocodile chuckled. He let himself have just this moment to relax. To feel like things were alright. “Daddy’ll take care of ya.”

 

~~~🐊🗡️🐊🗡️~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🤡🔴🤡~~~

 

“You can suck my dick after the show, Red Hair.”

Shanks loved Buggy even more for the laugh he’d managed to pull free from his rotten soul. 

“Buggy, please,” he begged, shamefully begged. “Do you have any time to talk?”

The clown narrowed his eyes at his old friend, concern creeping around him at the strain in his voice, the tightness in his eyes. 

“What’s wrong,” Buggy hissed, pulling him into the private dressing room. A light blush heated all the way up to his ears from the thought of their last rendezvous here. That heat died quickly, his blood running cold at the bitter laughter that left the red haired pirate’s throat.

What’s wrong with him?

“I’m so sorry, Bugs, I’m sorry I– fuck, I’m being so selfish,” Shanks started rambling, pacing and pacing while his hand flexed, gesturing out with a tension Buggy’d never seen before. “No, I shouldn’t do this now. Not before your show. Sorry, Bugs, you should go have a good show. I’ll just… I’ll talk to you after. I’m sorry.”

Buggy’s floating hand slammed the door closed when Shanks tried to leave, his other hand pulling him around by his cloak. 

“Are you fucking kidding me,” he hissed, eyes wide while he tried to figure out what sort of drug could have made Shanks babble like this. Made him look this scared, this sick. “You can’t do ominous shit like this, and then just leave without telling me what the fuck is going on! Did someone fucking die? Why are you freaking out right now?”

“You’re right.” Shanks let out a pained laugh, leaning his back against the mirrored wall. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

The clown glared, but nothing else came loose. He shook the other pirate, shaking his shoulders until those desperate, brown eyes met his.

“What you’re doing is telling me what the fuck is wrong with you, shithead.”

“That was always my favorite nickname,” Shanks smiled, eyes going dreamy.

 

~~~🔴🤡🔴🤡~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🤡🔴⏰~~~

 

“You know it’s silly to keep blaming me for that,” Shanks teased, trailing his fingers along Buggy’s bare shoulders as the clown took off his shoes. Taking too long to undress while they had another fake argument about Buggy swallowing the devil fruit he’d stolen when they were kids. 

“Well, I’m just a silly clown then,” Buggy grumbled, tossing a shoe against the wall without much force before kicking off his pants. “Just a–” 

“Just my silly clown,” Shanks purred after propping up his straw hat on the nightstand. He pushed that lovely, blue hair aside to breathe kisses up Buggy’s neck.

“I’m not yours, shithead,” he argued, though the fierceness faded into need fast when Shanks’ hand reached around his side to tease along his chest and stomach. Buggy couldn’t handle anything Shanks did or said. Rivals, friends, or this, he was always overwhelmed. 

Especially this. 

Shanks’ compliments and flirtations had always flustered and infuriated him, but now… Now he couldn’t think anytime his new lover was near. His lover. His boyfriend? His Shanks. He would tease, and play, and make him lose his mind. Could hardly get through a conversation without his face getting hot. 

It was amazing. Incredible. Still… unbelievable. Still waiting for his beautiful lover to fall for the next stranger they met. To meet someone as perfect as he was. To fess up that this was just a joke after all.

That I’m just a joke.

Just a silly clown.

Those fears were hard to remember with Shanks’ lips on his skin. With the lovely lies he’d whisper in his ear. With the way he said his name like that.

“Buggy,” Shanks rasped, sinking to his knees between Buggy’s legs at the edge of the bed. “How about I make it up to you?”

Shanks loved saying that. He loved watching Buggy’s eyes flutter, seeing his breath catch. 

One day I’ll make him believe me.

The red haired pirate was determined to make his lover feel beautiful. He’d seen the world be cruel, he’d fought that cruel world for Buggy, with Buggy. 

I’ll make him smile. 

“Do you want me to tell you what to do, baby,” he purred, hands stroking down Buggy’s inner thighs. “Or does my silly clown wanna be in charge right now?”

“Shut up, and suck my dick already, idiot– mmn, fuck yeah.”

Shanks hummed, taking his lover’s balls into his mouth while he started stroking along that perfect length. Buggy always got so hard, so fast, and Shanks’ eyes rolled back at the feel of those thick veins against his skin. 

“I said–”

Shanks grinned at Buggy’s order, cutting him off. He swirled his tongue around the tip, moaning softly at the taste of him. He teased and sucked that sensitive head, pulling away with a popping sound while he watched every little twitch Buggy gave him. 

“Stop teasing.”

“But you’re doing so well for me, baby,” Shanks praised, his voice and eyes dark as Buggy’s head fell back, starting to beg. “So good for—“

“F-fuck, Shanks…”

“Sorry, Bugs,” he gloated, kissing the tip one more time. “Let me make it up to you.”

“Gods, don’t stop! Please.”

Feeling Buggy shake, hearing him beg, whimper, and whine for him, was one of Shanks’ favorite things in the world. There was no one like him. No one more deserving, no one who needed him more. 

He stopped his rhythm just long enough to let Buggy shiver at the slow, tight pressure of Shanks taking him all in, his throat like heaven to the clown that had fallen back against the mattress. The rhythm built again, built until the clown’s still-gloved hands gripped the sheets. Shanks felt a momentary twinge that he hadn't noticed the gloves before, but then his mind was gone, drowning in Buggy, drowning in all that come down his throat, and the sound of his name on those red lips. 

“Shanks,” Buggy cried out, back arching from the insane pleasure that Shanks kept giving him. Spilling his need down that gorgeous, eager throat would never stop feeling like a dream. Never stop feeling like this. 

The red haired pirate couldn’t help but tease, making his clown twitch when he licked his tip again, drained of every last drop. He laughed at Buggy’s gasp, then crawled up beside him, not caring about the colors on his face when he stole a kiss. 

“So,” Shanks smirked as he rested his head on Buggy’s chest. “Did that make up for–”

“No,” Buggy scoffed, struggling to keep a cheesy smile off of his face. “Not even close, shithead.”

 

~~~⏰🤡🔴⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🤡🔴🤡~~~

 

“Hey, idiot! Are you on drugs? I told Mohji not to share with–”

The giggle that Shanks let out did not help his case, but he tried. 

He tried to figure out how to do or say anything with this weight on him. He felt like he was being crushed beneath all this guilt, this disgust, this fear that he’d ruined his own happiness, and how selfish that thought felt after all he’d done. 

And now he was piling it all onto Buggy before his big show. 

How do I stop being such a fucking asshole?

Buggy was very close to slapping him. Really fucking wanted to. Why wait–

“I fucked up,” Shanks admitted, his arm hanging loose at his side. He paused again, and Buggy pulled his hands away from the red haired man’s cloak, releasing him, and readying himself to beat the shit out of his drug-addled friend.

“I have too many apologies to give you right now. I’m sorry. I should have said it sooner, and I shouldn’t have come and ruined your pre show yellfest.”

“There wasn’t much to ruin,” Buggy laughed, still watching Shanks like he was a cornered animal. “Apparently I’m good at my job now.”

“You’ve always been good, Bug–”

“Don’t fucking do that.”

Shanks’ breath caught at the sudden anger in Buggy’s voice. Real anger. Not the play anger they always had. 

“I’m sorry, Bugs. What do you mean?”

“What do you mean,” Buggy mocked, stepping back as his body disconnected, pieces floating up and around while he snapped. “Your favorite fucking sentence. You always just swoop in, and act like nothing bad ever happened! You act all sweet, say all this shit, and fucking touch me like– It’s not fair! You’re too…”

Red Haired Shanks had never looked like this. All of Buggy’s pieces stopped moving while he stared his old friend. He’d never looked this wrecked, not even when he was blacked out, and throwing up over the side of the ship. He always looked dreamy eyed, or just too fucking relaxed, no matter what was happening. The most negativity he’d show Buggy was just mild, teasing annoyance, and even then, he’d slip into flirting almost instantly.

Right now Shanks looked like he was falling to pieces. 

Buggy’s words were knives through the gut, tearing him down, almost dragging him to his knees. That anger that he’d always ignored was brutal. It was evidence of everything Shanks now hated about himself. Every ugly, selfish mistake was real. 

He’d truly hurt Buggy.

Now he’d hurt the woman he loves. 

And now he might be hurting this strange group of lovers that he’d been so determined to steal his clown back from. 

Not my clown.

“Are you crying,” Buggy shouted as he grabbed Shanks’ face, squeezing his cheeks to force him to look up. Buggy’s head flew down, blinking at the tears in the Emperor of the Sea’s eyes.

“I’m sorry for everything, Buggy,” Shanks mumbled, struggling between the pressure in his throat, and the clown’s grip on his face. “I’m not gonna say I’ll make it up to you this time. I know I say that every time, Bugs… but I’d like to talk about it all later. If you want to.”

“Okay…” Buggy pulled his body together, slowly releasing Shanks’ face, and wondering if he was the one on drugs instead of his old friend. “You swear no one died?”

“I swear,” he laughed, finally a sliver of hope showing through his darkened soul. “Although the party hasn’t started yet.”

“Will you watch out for her for me?”

Buggy’s voice sounded light, but Shanks knew how real his request was. That sliver of hope felt pathetic.

I’m the one that hurt her.

“I will.”

Buggy kissed him before kicking him out, and Shanks stood there, frozen in shame until performers cussed at him for being in the way. 

Can I fucking drink now?

 

~~~🔴🤡🔴🤡~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🐊🗡️🐊🗡️~~~

 

Beautiful, they both thought while they looked at their numbers girl.

Mihawk’s guilt over treating her like a toy, and dressing her up like a doll was almost forgotten when she’d let him trail his hands over her skin, her hair, let him play with her. Y/N was always stunning, but he couldn’t wait to turn her around for Crocodile to see after he’d accentuated her features. 

It was incredibly satisfying to watch that frightening face melt at the sight of her. 

What a strange, lovely girl, to bring so many villains to their knees. 

The swordsman was already on his knees for her, and would gladly do so again, smiling to himself at the thought. 

“Are you ready, little rabbit,” he rasped, standing to offer her his hand. Crocodile could see her shaking at the vanity, and he had to move toward her, coming to stand beside his little prince. 

“We’re right here with you, sweet girl,” he promised, wanting to take her and run, to leave the fucking guild behind just to see her real smile again. 

“I’m ready,” Y/N cleared her throat, that perfect mask of a smile hiding his girl away. He didn’t even care that she’d lied. 

 

~~~🐊🗡️🐊🗡️~~~

~~~~~~

 

They weren’t supposed to touch you at the party. A firm rule you’d set in place, needing to be seen as professional to maintain respect with these contacts, even if they assumed the truth anyway. 

It was always about the image you showed, not the truth behind it. No truths in this world.

Just need enough berry to paint a pretty picture. 

You couldn’t decide if you regretted the no touching rule or not. Which option was less likely to make you cry in front of all the guests?

Here they come.

You almost smirked at the twitching in Crocodile and Mihawk's hands as they stood beside you, watching the line come closer. Buggy had to wait backstage for the show, so his executives and CFO would be greeting the guests. 

The guest list was seared into your mind. You had obsessed, going over and over it, making sure that only the right people showed, making sure that their plus one’s were up to your standards. 

Each guest could bring a maximum of two personal guards. Crocodile had fought you on that, but he’d finally agreed that not a single rich sleaze bag would be brave enough to meet with a bunch of pirates without security. He did insist that sea prism stone would be confiscated at the gate, and that all the guards would be tested to ensure no devil fruit users would be attending. 

You knew every single thing about the guests heading up those steps, yet you still scanned each one as you turned on that Sylvad charm. 

Mihawk and Crocodile seemed to radiate the opposite of charm, and you were glad you were part of the greeting party, otherwise the guests might have all run screaming.

“Do you have to be so scary,” you scolded with a laugh. “You’re making my job harder here.”

“Come now, rabbit. You have them all wrapped around your little finger,” Mihawk teased, his voice bringing a flush to your skin that you tried to ignore.

“That’s Mayor Kottley, isn't it?” Crocodile flicked his eyes toward the ostentatious man in a bowler hat that was taking his time strutting up the steps. “The one with the brothel–”

“Shh,” you swallowed a laugh, your eyes wide. You tried to get your face straight, but couldn’t resist asking. “How did you know that?”

“My sweet girl's notes are very thorough, and very entertaining.”

A true smile started.

Almost forgot. I almost forgot it’s over.

That thought made it easier to find your face again, the pride and warmth that had flooded your veins drifting away. 

Guest after guest after guest. So many annoying people with condescending smiles. This was not the kind of pretend you wanted.

At least I get to help them all before it’s over. At least I matter that much.

“Sweetheart,” Crocodile interrupted your spiral, his voice reminding you to breathe and smile. “You know what this guild is for, right? Sorry, of course you do…. I just forgot to warn you. We're gonna be doing that tonight.”

“Doing wha—“

“Well, don’t you look lovely, Y/N. And here I thought you hated parties.”

That voice came from a tall, handsome man in a conservative, yet expensive suit. The scent of citrus and cedarwood moved with him when he kissed your hand.

It’s over.

“Hello, Uncle Cedrick.”

 

~~~~~~

Notes:

Hi!!! How's everybody doing? Please don't kill me for the cliffhanger, there's sooo much going on with this party, lol.

Also, I hope you don't mind that I decided against describing reader's dress, hair, and makeup (besides "accentuating features") for the party. I had some ideas, but I figured your ideas would work better for you! Numbers Girl will pretty much always be wearing dresses though since Daddy Croc likes them, and Mihawk enjoys the easy access 😅

~~~~~~

EDIT: Since I've been asked here and on tumblr what my Numbers Girl is wearing I've made a post there which you can find here:

 

TUMBLR POST WITH PICS

 

Here's the text from the post:

~~~~~~

ORIGINAL DRESS BEFORE THE POV SHIFTS

I had planned to have the party earlier before I started shifting POV's, so my first pick changed. This would have been before all the GROWTH our lovely boys have been doing, and it would have looked like Mihawk's sneaky way of trying to convince Buggy that he valued him, and thus convince him and reader to stay. (Or to show us that maybe he does care? We wouldn't know without seeing his POV, so reader wouldn't know if it was genuine or not).

Now our boy has been growing, his feelings are all over the place, and he is trying not to be a monster anymore, so no more manipulation tactics (at least not on purpose, lol).

Before the growth, Mihawk would have dressed reader up in a muted Buggy Blue dress, with red lipstick 😅💙🤡

~~~~~~

HERE'S WHAT MY NUMBERS GIRL IS WEARING

Everyone could agree on the color black. However, our swordsman picked everything else (and no one argued with him 😅).

My thoughts were a black sleeveless gown with a saucy slit up one leg, a high neckline, and lace detailing up the chest and neck.

Mihawk loves lace, and had to make his little rabbit match his gothic, untouchable, vampire vibes, of course. 🐇🧛🏼♂️

~~~~~~

Our Numbers Girl is looking fierce with her EXTRA SCARY scary dog privilege, and her "I might just murder you myself," gothic gown.

I am soooo excited to share more of the party with y'all. I'm having the best time!!! 💃🗡🤡🐊💃

I would LOVE LOVE LOVE to hear what your Numbers Girl is wearing! It's like we're playing dress up! Lol, I love it 🥰🥰

~ Lynna 🖤💃

Chapter 24: Just a Little More Pretending

Summary:

The party has started, but you are adrift. Can you keep pretending with proof of your lovers' betrayal standing before you?

Notes:

Author's Note: ⚫ !! IMPORTANT TW !! ⚫ We have had quite a bit of blood and pain in this story so far, but this chapter contains the use of a knife during sex. I have bracketed that section off with these symbols ~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~ and you won't miss the story if you skip it! There's aftercare and more smut after that section, so PLEASE DO NOT READ if self harm, knives, or blood may be triggering for you. EXTRA NOTE: This series is about villains, and was always meant to have blood and violence. I won't be able to section off everything, but I know how triggering a scene like this one can be. Please skip it, and know that you are not alone!! 💜

 

Alternate POV Symbols:
🌲 ~ Flashbacks from Reader's Past | 🐊 ~ Crocodile | 🗡 ~ Mihawk | 🤡 ~ Buggy | 🔴 ~ Shanks | ⏰ ~ Flashbacks for listed POV | ⚫ ~ Scenes depicting Dark Content listed in Author's Notes

~~~~~~

 

“I don’t believe you were on the guest list, Mr. Sylvad.”

Mihawk’s cold, dangerous voice didn’t make sense. Lies. Pretend.

They sold me.

“My apologies,” Uncle Cedrick charmed. Your body turned to ice while he held your hand limply, as if he’d forgotten you were there. “Ambassador Siggins was called away for a last minute family emergency, and he was gracious enough to offer me his ticket. I’ve been looking forward to visiting with my dear niece, and meeting her esteemed employers. Perhaps we can share a nightcap after the party? I’d love to–”

“Get your fucking hands off of her.”

Some wicked part of you felt a thrill at the sight of Uncle Cedrick’s eyes going wide with fear. Your body and mind hadn’t decided on what to feel, or trust, or give a fuck about anymore, but you instinctively put yourself between your uncle, and the seemingly furious ex-warlord whose hook was inching closer to him. 

“Don’t make a scene. They’ll all turn on you, and you’ll never make another berry for the rest of your lives.”

You felt the violent stillness from both of the domineering forms at your sides, but neither moved.

“Always so shrewd, niece,” Uncle winked, his breath shifting back to his confident ease. “Besides, you know I never travel without insurance. If I’m not back safe on my ship to make a certain call at a certain time, then my location will be leaked to sooo many friends. You know my friends, don’t you, smarty?”

“I know,” you breathed, voice low while you fought to swallow every horrible feeling flooding your body.

“Of course you do,” he gloated, pulling his hand away before touching your face when he glanced at the men beside you. “You were always so smart. See you inside, dear.”

“Rabbit–”

“Sweetheart–”

“Don’t cause a scene.”

 

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🗡️🔴⏰~~~

 

“Was it really necessary to cause a scene? The other tavern had much better wine.”

“I didn’t cause the scene,” Shanks smirked, leaning in close while he teased. “I just beat up the asshole that did. No one messes with my friends… Besides, if you drink enough of the cheap shit, it gets the job done.”

Shanks laughed when Mihawk rolled his eyes in a very different way than he planned on making him later. He walked his fingers across the bar, but the swordsman pulled his hand away before they touched. 

“Well, Red Hair,” he challenged, a tiny smirk making Shanks’ breath catch, “how many bottles will you be bringing up to the room? How many will get the job done?”

“How many can you carry,” Shanks rasped, eyes glued to that pretty mouth. 

~~~

Shanks was grinning.

Mihawk was trying not to. 

How many years? How many times had they ended up like this?

And how many more times would he fucking beg for it?

“Please, daddy,” Mihawk whined, “need…”

“Tell me,” Shanks chuckled, digging his nails into Mihawk’s skin while he gripped his face. “What does my slutty, little boy need, huh? You gonna be a greedy whore? Gonna beg me to do so many, filthy things to you?”

“Please–”

“Knew it, you selfish brat,” Shanks scolded, shoving the side of Mihawk’s face against the wall. “What are you gonna give Daddy in return?”

“Everything, please,” Mihawk begged. He tore off his clothes while Shanks kept his face pinned, these moments with the red haired pirate being the only times he didn’t give a fuck about where his clothes landed. “Take everything, daddy, take–”

“Such a desperate whore for me,” Shanks hummed, an evil grin on his face as he released the other man from his grip. “Tell me what you want, and I might be nice. If I think you deserve it.”

Mihawk’s eyes rolled back, the wicked promise in Shanks’ voice giving him so much pleasure and comfort, he didn’t know what to do with it. He fell to his knees, pleading.

 

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

 

“Make me bleed,” he begged, pulling a knife from his pile of pretty clothes. “Please, daddy. Take my blood, let me–”

“My little freak,” Shanks huffed a laugh, following his friend to his knees. “How would you live without me?”

“I– fuck!”

“My pretty boy,” Shanks purred, dropping the bloody knife so he could smear all that red across Mihawk’s perfect chest. “This what you needed?”

“Y-yes, p-please,” Mihawk shook, back arching while he twitched, his eyes rolling white. 

“Need your daddy to hurt you?”

Mihawk was shivering, whimpering, moaning when Shanks showed off those red fingers. 

“Poor thing. Let me give my little freak what he needs.”

There was nothing like this. 

“Such a perfect body, and you want me to rip it to shreds?”

“Gods, yes. Pleeease.”

Shanks would never have thought to do this with a lover, but Mihawk was hypnotizing. How could he not give him what he craved when he begged and whined for it like this? When the “Marine Hunter” would debase himself, would do anything Shanks asked him to, just to feel this?

“Tell you what, selfish brat,” Shanks taunted, just starting to ghost the tip of the blade along Mihawk’s skin. “Lay down, let me watch my little pain slut jack himself off, and I’ll keep ruining this pretty chest of yours until you come.”

Shanks gave a pleased laugh, deep and dark, while Mihawk fell to the floor, his back arching as he let out a pathetic, needy moan. 

“Not gonna last long, are you,” he challenged. “Prove how much you want it, whore. Don’t stop touching yourself, or you won’t get any pain at all.”

“Yes, daddy,” the swordsman breathed, getting to work.

Beautiful.

Shanks paused for just a moment, stunned again by his powerful rival turned friend. Stunned by how wickedly perfect he was. Stunned by how much he wanted him. He’d almost forget just how much every time they drifted apart again.

“Da—“

“Don’t be impatient,” Shanks purred as he teased the blade down Mihawk’s side. He hummed at the twitching, near panicked body he had so much control over. “Tell me what you are.”

“I’m your pathetic slut, daddy’s whore, your— fuuck, Shaaanks.”

Mihawk could barely see with his eyes fluttering and rolling, but he caught that look on his friend's face.

Shanks was fucking glorious, the power he exuded like sweet poison. The swordsman would never let another touch his skin with a blade, would never admit this weakness to another soul. Yet, Shanks… He was perfect. Beautiful. Strong. 

And he controlled him so well. 

The teasing scrape of the blade turned to unreal pleasure as it pressed into his skin. Mihawk didn’t know why he was like this. Didn’t know when it started, but he didn’t fucking care.

That sharp sting of the knife slicing down, and the heat of the blood he could feel tickling along his skin, had him coming in his hand within the same breath. He bucked and moaned as ropes and ropes of come covered his stomach, his chest, the column of his throat.

 

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

 

“You did so well,” Shanks rasped, leaning down to taste the weak whimpers and whines still lingering on those lips. “How’s my pretty boy doing?”

“I…” he tried, breathless, with the hint of tears shining in his golden eyes. “Thank you, daddy.” 

“You know I’ve always got you,” Shanks promised. He breathed those words along Mihawk’s skin, trailing soft touches, and teasing nails across that magnificent, painted body to bring out more delicious sounds and shakes. “Just relax, baby. Breathe for me.”

Mihawk couldn’t understand. Couldn’t believe the pleasure that Shanks gave him. That he let Shanks give him. There was no one else he could trust. No one else he respected. No one he wanted…

“Shanks…”

The red haired pirate chuckled at Mihawk’s reaching fingers, kissing the man’s temple to soothe that tension. 

“Don’t rush, bright eyes. Just feel good for me. We'll get you cleaned up in a bit, then you can show daddy how grateful you are.”

Mihawk could never admit that the weak sound that left his throat was a sob, but he stopped caring when Shanks kept touching him, kissing him, dragging nails down his skin, just enough to make him moan. 

He’d never felt safer. 

~~~

“Look at you.”

Clean and bandaged, with his black hair still damp from the shower, the swordsman’s breath caught at Shanks’ hushed words, at the way he watched him crawl across the small bed. 

Those brown eyes were too soft. Mihawk shivered under that gaze before he found what he was looking for. 

“Just like that, baby. So good for me.”

The praise made him dizzy, dizzier than the swollen cock he’d licked and teased before swallowing deep, his watery eyes still locked on the soft, brown ones above him.

“I love it when you do that,” Shanks hummed when Mihawk massaged his balls, still taking that veiny shaft down his throat, so fucking deep. “Such a good boy for daddy. I’m close, keep those lovely eyes on me.”

Mihawk moaned around his cock, and Shanks couldn’t handle the look on his friend's face. He fisted that damp, black hair, and took control, just like his swordsman needed. Fingers gripping tight, demanding, taking and taking as he shoved that pretty face up and down his cock like a beautiful toy. 

“Fuck yeah. You love being daddy’s little whore, love taking everything I fucking give you, huh?”

The pleasure of the new pain sent the swordsman to blissful twitching, not caring if he choked, wanting it, wanting to be used. 

“Fucking take it. Take daddy’s come, show me how much— fuckin’ hells. You feel so fucking good. Swallow it all like a good boy.”

Those soft eyes and those desperate eyes stayed connected, fighting against the instinct to thrash, to writhe, to look away. They stayed connected until Mihawk’s throat took every last drop of Shanks’ pleasure, the giving and taking between them like another spar, a dance between too-friendly rivals. 

“Come here,” Shanks purred, his lovely smile making the swordsman feel the urge to frown. Instead, he moved to sit against the headboard with his friend, hoping the barkeep was still downstairs so he could book another room to sleep in. 

The safety Mihawk had felt was dwindling fast, being replaced by the need to leave, to pretend he hadn’t let himself be so weak. 

But he supposed a few more minutes of resting by his red haired rival wouldn’t hurt. 

~~~

Shanks felt light, almost high, when Mihawk crawled up the bed to lean against him. He was staying. Staying still for once. The red haired pirate let his fingers travel along that perfect skin covered in new and old scars, taking in Mihawk’s intoxicating scent. Taking in every feeling he tried not to carry when they were apart. 

“Hey, Hawk?”

“Mm, what is it,” the swordsman drawled, fighting with the exhaustion that was trying to convince him to stay. 

The red haired pirate didn’t want to explain, didn’t want to risk losing his courage, so he pulled away just enough to look into those golden eyes. 

“I love you.”

Mihawk thought he must have fallen asleep, but it was too real. The scent of their bodies. The sting of the wound on his chest. Those gorgeous, soft eyes. 

“Please,” Mihawk laughed. The cruelty in his own voice felt like a storm he couldn’t stop, only watch as it tore through the world. “Love is boring.”

“What?”

Shanks tried to keep that lightness. To pretend he wasn’t hearing this, wasn’t watching those cold eyes go deadly.

“Don’t be boring, Shanks,” Mihawk sighed as he pulled back. The safety he’d felt was a lie, ripped away. He couldn’t think, couldn’t take in whatever that look was on his rival’s face. He just needed to leave. 

To be alone. Safe.

“Hawk,” Shanks breathed, staring at the swordsman while he pulled on those fancy clothes. He brought his shaky hand to the sheets, focusing on controlling his breath, his heart, so that his friend wouldn’t hear just how fucking deep he’d wounded him. He didn’t want to feel this, just wanted to shove it down. 

“See you next time, Red Hair.”

Shanks couldn’t shove it down. The door closed, and every good feeling he’d ever had seemed to rush out of the room with it. Every good feeling he’d just had in this shitty room turned tortuous as he tried not to suffocate in it. Every word, every touch, every look in those golden eyes.

“Fuck…”

The red haired pirate managed not to yell, not to destroy. He managed not to leave this inn to find another at the risk of running into his friend. He managed to finish all of those opened bottles on the floor while he tried not to choke on the painful heat in his throat.

Shanks managed to drink enough to blame his tears on the liquor, and to lie to himself that he was fine. That he would get over it.

He’s heartless. A pirate without a fucking crew. Dracule Mihawk isn’t capable of love. I should have known he couldn’t love me.

He can’t love anyone.

Those thoughts weren’t as comforting as he wanted them to be. 

Mihawk’s thoughts were not as clear as he needed them to be. Not as calm, not as empty, not as safe.

The way he’d fled that room, and avoided that hurt gaze, made him fight to keep steady.

What was he thinking? Ridiculous. Idiotic. How could we even—

Not even worth entertaining. Boring. 

Mihawk ran from the feelings within him just as he'd run out of that room, out of that tavern. He ran and shut the door, pretending that it meant nothing. 

He stuffed every thought of it away. Every thought of those soft, brown eyes away until he forgot what it was he was truly running from. 

Something that couldn’t be real, and could never be safe.

Mihawk could never risk feeling safe. 

He could never risk the idiocy, or the blindness, of something as boring as love. 

 

~~~⏰🗡️🔴⏰~~~

~~~~~~

 

“Welcome, welcome, fine guests, to the Cross Guild’s very first gala affair,” Buggy’s voice boomed, bright and shining on that small stage while he addressed the gathered crowd. “Before our main event, we’ll enjoy a delightful dinner accompanied by the flashiest show you’ve ever seen.”

Buggy winked for the crowd, yet even though you knew it was really for you, you couldn’t feel a thing. Just the ice trailing down your spine.

“For now, please help yourselves to the hors d'oeuvres, enjoy an aperitif, and dance, before we all make too much berry on wicked things.”

Your clown was a bit more reserved than his usual shows, with a mesmerizing lightness to his movements, his body floating just slightly within his clothes. Yet he’d dialed up his dark charm, the tantalizing danger that so many of these bored, high society leeches were hungry for. Just enough to titillate, not enough to scare them away. Buggy had listened to your notes, adjusting his act just enough to still be his, yet still appeal to this privileged group. The excited buzzing of the vultures around you told you that he’d hit his mark. 

Galdino nodded at you as you scanned the crowd, his eyes flicking back to watching the select group of pirates they’d deemed appropriate guests to not frighten away the potential backers. 

Part of your mind was in work mode, going over every detail, deciding which asshole to shmooze first.

The rest of you was gone. Shaking. You could feel his stare. 

Uncle was smirking at you over his drink. He wasn’t paying attention to the leeches at his side that were trying to bask in his glow as if the Sylvad wealth could rub off on people. 

They sold me. 

“Dance with me, little rabbit.”

Mihawk bowed his head a bit, those dangerous fingers reaching for yours. There were only a handful of couples on the floor, and your employers weren’t supposed to touch you. 

He sold me. He’s throwing me away just to line his pockets. Never real, just pretend.

Uncle Cedrick’s charming laugh carried over the music, finally giving the other guests some attention. You could still feel his eyes. 

“I’m a terrible dancer.”

“You don’t need to dance,” he smirked, taking your hand in his before leading you toward that gleaming floor. “I’ll do all the work. Just let your body listen to mine. I know you can do that, rabbit.”

Mihawk didn’t give the tease his usual force. It didn’t knock you off your feet, but it was enough to make you sigh, relaxing your shoulders just a bit. 

“Breathe with me, love,” the swordsman soothed, and you couldn’t stop yourself from melting as his hypnotic voice washed over you. “No one else exists. Nothing else exists. Just our bodies, our breath, and the music. Will you believe that with me? Will you dance with me, darling?”

“Okay,” you whispered, your body shaking for him now. 

Just a little more pretending. 

 

~~~~~~

~~~🐊🔴🐊🔴~~~

 

Shanks was haunting the corner bar, downing his third aperitif, and trying to ignore the stares he kept getting. 

Oh, yeah. I’m Red Haired Shanks.

He chuckled to himself before returning his focus to her, watching Hawk treat her like she was precious, watching him care for her, dance with her. Yet her eyes were still empty. 

Y/N. It’s my fault she’s… I thought I was such a good man. So fucking egotistical—

“Red Hair,” came a gruff voice, accompanied by the thud of a golden hook onto the pretty bar top.

“Sir Crocodile,” Shanks replied, still watching her. He finally glanced over after a too-long pause, surprised to find the larger man looking almost pained. “What’s going on?”

Crocodile didn't want to do this. Didn't want to say this. 

He wanted to gut this man, then suck the life out of him until all that was left was his stupid, red hair. 

I don’t want to be a monster to her. Not to them.

“Will you protect them,” he choked out, forcing the painful words past his lips. It felt like admitting defeat, and his body raged against it. “Will you take care of them?”

Shanks forgot to breathe from the shock of what he thought he’d just heard. 

“What—“

“If they choose you, I won’t stop them. If you swear you’ll take care of them, all of them, then I won’t stand in your way.”

…

Crocodile almost lost it, almost reached for the man’s throat. Hesitation was fucking unacceptable.

Shanks felt like he’d plummeted to the bottom of the ocean, dark, heavy thoughts drowning him in a silent death. 

This monster, this villain, cares enough to let them all go. 

What does that say about me?

“I swear. I’ll protect them. I’ll care for them. I’ll—“

“Good,” Crocodile snarled, holding himself back like a wild beast. Like a monster. “Y/N’s uncle crashed the party, and she won’t let us kill him yet. I’m gonna put you at his table. See what you can find out about him.”

Shanks went to stand from his stool, all those words not fully registering. He stumbled just a bit, and Crocodile let out a vicious growl.

“For fuck’s sake, are you drunk already?” 

“Not even close,” Shanks sighed, steadying himself. He couldn’t seem to find his balance in this upside-down world.

“Get your shit together. If you show me you can’t protect them, then I won’t care what they want, I wont care what I want, I’ll just fucking kill you.”

“What do you want?”

Shanks stared up into that frightening face, and couldn’t understand. Couldn’t believe.

“I want them all to be safe and happy. Don’t make me regret trusting you.”

Crocodile felt like his organs were boiling with the need to end this man. To end this man that was taking what’s his. He stared down into stupid, brown eyes, grinding his teeth against his rage. 

“I want the same thing.” 

“Then prove it,” Crocodile spat, leaving Shanks to sway.

Buggy…

I have to tell him.

The Emperor of the Sea floated through the crowd to sneak backstage again, hoping he could figure out the next right thing to do. 

Hoping he could prove it. 

 

~~~🐊🔴🐊🔴~~~

~~~~~~

 

“You look absolutely enchanting tonight, love.”

“There’s no need to brag about your work.”

The tease left your lips like a miracle, and Mihawk’s eyes filled with that lovely mix of annoyance and pride that you seemed so skilled at drawing out of him. 

“My vicious rabbit is always stunning, even when I don’t get my hands on her,” he teased back, still perfectly guiding your body along the dance floor. “Though I certainly enjoy the honor.”

You barely heard the satisfied hum he let out when you shivered, yet his voice was still too much. His voice was a drug, just like his eyes, his scent, and his wicked, wicked fingers. 

Mihawk was pleasure, seduction, desire. The pain he added to that intoxicating mix only made you crave him more. He made you feel so many things. Hard things. Soft things. Addictive things. Your eyes fluttered as you fought to stop thinking this way about the man that sold you. 

Just for daydreams. Not real. 

 

~~~~~~

~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~

 

Perfect. 

She’s perfect.

Mihawk wanted to kill every single soul in the room, just so he could hear only her. Hear only her lovely heart, beating against his. He could hear it all, but he needed more, needed her.

He needed to keep that spark in Y/N’s eyes. His breath had caught at that glimpse of her, at her brave, little tease. That attitude he ached to punish and praise, and never go a day without hearing. 

Everything. Mihawk wanted everything with her.

“Little rabbit?”

“Mhm?”

The world’s greatest swordsman was bested by this strange, lovely girl. The effort, the bravery it took to keep going was almost insurmountable. 

“I’m not pretending.”

Y/N stiffened at those whispered words, and his hands had to control her, carry her even more, forcing her body to follow his dance. 

“Please…”

“I know I don’t deserve you, but I’ll do anything, darling. Anything to watch you. To watch how your beautiful mind works, to see you be fierce, to hold you when you’re tired.”

Mihawk felt high. He’d finally forgotten the rest of the world existed. Nothing but Y/N in his arms. 

Now that he’d started, he couldn’t seem to stop. When she rested her cheek against his chest for a moment, Mihawk almost fell to his knees. She breathed him in before showing him that tiny spark of her, still burning behind those beautiful eyes. 

“You’re not tricking me,” Y/N questioned, her voice hesitant, wounded. It tore his insides to shreds to hear her in pain. To know that he’d been the cause. “You didn’t sell me?”

“Rabbit…”

Why didn’t I see what she was before? She believes I could… would I have?

Guilt almost stole his breath, his courage. 

“I am so sorry, Y/N. There are no excuses for a villain like me,” he breathed, lost in her, needing her. “You have taken me over. The thought of losing you…”

“Mihawk?”

His name on her tongue. Lovelier than the rarest of wines. The only thing he wanted to hear.

“I don’t care what you decide, rabbit. I will follow you anywhere, if you would have me.”

The swordsman couldn’t read her. Since she’d fallen apart, Y/N had become impossible to understand, impossible to decipher, her body’s new language from some other world. 

A lonely world that he needed to pull her back from.

He needed her back. 

“I love you, Y/N,” Mihawk confessed. He noticed that his hands were shaking, almost losing his hold on her. A tiny moment of feeling selfish passed before he breathed her in again. “My little rabbit… I love you more than I can fathom, more and more with every moment. You have woken me up, darling.”

Mihawk tried to reach her, tried to read her, but knew that he couldn’t take from her anymore. All he could do was tell her the truth.

“Y/N, you have brought me to life.” 

Her heart. 

What does that rhythm mean?

“Mind if I cut in?”

 

~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~

~~~~~~

 

It was a miracle that your Uncle hadn’t been vaporized on the spot by the murderous glare Mihawk flung his way. His touch that had been so gentle a moment ago went rigid, your bodies gone still in the middle of that shining dancefloor. 

“Come now, it’s just a dance,” Uncle Cedrick prodded, and you wondered if he understood how close to death he was. 

Mihawk wanted to kill him. Truly. 

He really didn’t sell me?

“It’s fine,” you soothed, pulling away from your lover that had violence radiating off of him in waves. “I’ll be fine. Please, don’t—“

“Alright, love,” he conceded, his eyes somehow even more intense as he studied your face. “I’ll listen to you.”

Mihawk placed your hand in your Uncle’s, his own hand tensing before letting you go.

“Much obliged,” Uncle Cedrick purred as your swordsman walked away, his head jerking subtly at the sound of those words.

“So, dear niece,” he smirked, pulling you into position. “Were they actually able to teach you how to dance? Or do you still require a firm, guiding hand?”

You’d fought so hard against it, knowing it would only break you down. Knowing that all it could do was destroy you.

Yet catching Mihawk’s gaze while he studied your uncle like fresh, new prey did something. You knew you should stomp it out, but the rage in those golden eyes had lit a spark. Just an ember, glowing weakly, but it was there. 

Hope. 

 

~~~~~~

Notes:

!!!!! I am eating, sleeping, and breathing this party 😅 I rarely do more than a vibe outline for a fic, usually just a brain dump, but I wanted this party to come together smoothly. Y'all, the OUTLINE for this party is 23 PAGES 🙃🙃🙃 Lol, get comfy (and oh gobs, please tell me what you think so far, I've been going bonkers 🙏🏼🙏🏼)

Chapter 25: The Delightful and Dangerous Show

Summary:

Dancing took a lot out of you, but maybe you can fit in a break before dinner starts. Wouldn't want to miss the party favors!

Notes:

I am thoroughly enjoying all this uncle hatred. I wonder how you'll feel after the dance 🤔

!! CW REMINDER !! I hope y’all haven’t forgotten that the Cross Guild boys are VILLAINS!!

 

Alternate POV Symbols:
🌲 ~ Flashbacks from Reader's Past | 🐊 ~ Crocodile | 🗡 ~ Mihawk | 🤡 ~ Buggy | 🔴 ~ Shanks | ⏰ ~ Flashbacks for listed POV | ⚫ ~ Scenes depicting Dark Content listed in Author's Notes

 

~~~~~~

 

Hope was forgotten when your uncle’s unforgiving grip forced you to obey. 

Mihawk had carried you like a dream, like an artist holding his favorite brush.

Uncle Cedrick carried you like you were a beast to be tamed, a horse to be broken. 

“I’m impressed, Y/N,” he lied, holding you close enough to choke you on his cedarwood cologne. “You have outdone yourself. At least you’ve proven that you’re tired of being bored.”

“Everything in your world is boring.”

Your voice couldn’t reach disinterest or disgust. Just that weak, childish retort that made him chuckle. 

“I’ll be sure to let Kat know how you feel.”

He let out a tiny grunt when you stiffened, his cold fingers digging in while he fought to control you, to hold up that pretty picture for the sniveling crowd. 

“What did you—“

“What did I do,” he laughed, keeping up the pleasant façade. “Your sister has been worried about you ever since you ran off with that homicidal clown. You can’t really blame her, can you?”

“She told you…” 

“Of course, dear niece,” Uncle Cedrick soothed, cold fingers pretending to be less cruel for just a moment. “Kat knows that I’ll do anything to protect our family. You’re such a smart girl, Y/N. I’m sure you know that too.”

“Our CFO has some duties to attend to.”

“But, of course,” Uncle replied to that deadly voice, giving a nod to Crocodile. He placed your hand into that large, dangerous one that seemed to be vibrating. “I’m looking forward to our nightcap.”

You tugged on that hand like a leash when Crocodile looked ready to tear your uncle’s throat out any second.

He didn’t sell me…

“You needed me for something,” you asked, feeling foggy, lost. 

“Need a break, sweetheart?”

 

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🐊🐊🐊⏰~~~

 

Crocodile needed to break things. 

Couldn’t think. Couldn’t stop to breathe, couldn’t leave a single moment of space in his mind for thinking.

He could only think of this shitty bar that he’d terrorized everyone out of. 

Only this liquor. 

Only broken tables, broken glasses. The wood, the floors, the ugly hanging lights. Everything broken. 

I break everything.

“Gods, damn it,” he cursed, wondering how many things his voice could break. 

Crocodile’s hook felt heavy today. He stared at it until he couldn’t take the sight of it anymore, smashing it through the wooden bar, useless splinters raining around him.

His hook. 

There’d been blood on his hook. So much blood had been stolen by its sharp point. So much blood had coated the metal, dripping, dripping down.

But that blood... 

Monster. He’d already known that. Crocodile had chosen to embrace his worst desires. He wanted to be a bad man. 

He had always been a bad man. 

Monster’s are untouchable. They shouldn’t care who they hurt. They shouldn’t care whose blood…

“Fuck!”

That blood had long since been cleaned from his hook, yet he could smell it now. Pouring liquor over the deadly weapon didn’t get the stench off. Shattering bottles around the tavern couldn’t take the image out of his mind.

“I didn’t mean to…”

The only thing that could stop this feeling was acceptance. 

Get over yourself. You’re a fucking monster. That’s all you’ll ever be.

Crocodile tossed his cigar behind him as he left that unlucky tavern, letting the evidence of his regret go up in flames. 

 

~~~⏰🐊🐊🐊⏰~~~

 

~~~~~~

 

“Yes, please,” you nodded, keeping up a smile as Crocodile led you off the dancefloor. You assumed he’d take you to the bar, or to sit at a table, but your face went hot when you realized his destination. “Why…”

“You deserve a break, sweet girl. Let’s get you away from the leeches.”

Too many things. Too many things were happening. 

Yet you still followed Crocodile to the conference room that you’d spent most of the dizzying morning in. 

 

~~~~~~

 

~~~🐊🐊🐊~~~

 

“Are you alright, sweetheart,” he urged, going to his knees to touch her hair, to see her face.

“I don’t…” Y/N looked at him as if she didn’t understand what he was saying, as if nothing made sense.

“All you gotta do is tell me what you want,” Crocodile rasped. She was the only thing that made sense now. “Tell me what you want me to do to him. Tell me what you need, please.”

I’ve done it again. Violence. All I know.

“You’re not lying,” she asked, her quivering lip causing him physical pain while he held himself back from pulling her against him, forcing her to believe him. “You promise you didn’t sell me?”

His own cruel words filled his mind as he let out a strained breath, head falling back to look at the ceiling before he could move through his shame enough to answer her. 

“I promise,” he pleaded, surprised that he knew how to do it. “I wish I hadn’t been a monster to you. You’re everything to me, babygirl. I’ll do anything for you. I’ll kill every fucking leech at this stupid party. I’ll kill anyone that tries to hurt you.”

He clenched his eyes shut, struggling to stop his violent heart. Fear gripped him when he looked back at his sweet girl, his breath catching at the sight of her shaking hands, her widened eyes. 

She’s terrified of me.

This was defeat. This was what he’d sown, the pain he now reaped. 

I’m just a monster.

“I want you to be happy,” Crocodile choked, letting her go. “Whatever you want, sweetheart. I won’t force you to stay. I won’t ever force you again. If you wanna go—“

“Daddy!”

Crocodile couldn’t remember this feeling. Hadn’t known he could feel it. 

Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck, her soft breath going ragged while she seemed to struggle against tears. 

“Shh, babygirl,” he hummed, carrying her to lay across his lap as he sat against the wall, cautious with every touch to that pretty dress. “I’m right here. Daddy’s here. Just tell me what you want, it’s yours.”

It was true. He really would destroy everything just for her. Just for that beautiful spark that was returning to her eyes. 

Those lovely eyes fluttered, and she let out a sigh when her body loosened in his hold.

“I want to forget,” she whispered, her unclear words sending tension through him. He couldn’t tell what she needed. “I want you to take care of me, Daddy. Please.”

Y/N reached for his hand, pressing his palm against her chest. 

She’s hurting. She’s scared. That piece of shit is making my sweet girl sad.

“I want you to touch me, please.”

“Anything for you, sweetheart."

 

~~~🐊🐊🐊~~~

~~~~~~

 

Crocodile seemed just as surprised as you were when you giggled while helping him navigate under your dress. 

How could this frightening man feel so comforting, so soothing? 

You shoved down the worries those thoughts dragged out. Shoved down the sound of your uncle’s voice, the fear that everything was over. 

You shoved it all down, and let him take care of you. 

“My sweet girl,” he purred, leaving a barely there kiss to your temple. His extra gentle touches to keep your hair and dress from mussing made you melt in his lap, melting even more when those large fingers teased along your inner thighs.

He was so cautious, searching for you without pulling or tugging at the lovely fabric. 

“Just relax for me, babygirl,” Crocodile soothed. His fingertips were already wet after trailing them over your lace panties. “Daddy’ll take care of you. Is this what you want right now?”

“Please,” you begged weakly, needing this. Needing a fucking break. 

“Good girl,” he rasped, pushing your panties aside to plunge one of his strong fingers inside of you. 

“Gods…”

“Mm, there ya go, sweetheart.”

Trying so hard to be mindful of your appearance, you held yourself quiet, held in your movements, held in everything. 

But nothing could hold in the pleasure Crocodile was giving you. 

One finger turned into two, and his thumb teased your clit until you had to fight, failed to fight against twitching. 

He hushed, and soothed, and praised, staring down at you like you were precious.

Crocodile used to look at you like you were precious. Treasure. His most prized possession. 

This was different. There were no more cages, no more chains in those silver eyes. Whatever was there now made you shiver, until you were clenching your teeth to keep from screaming. 

His fingers could reach so far, curling around the spot that made you forget. You forgot everything but his eyes, his fingers, and his praise. Everything but the pleasure that rocked through you, arching your back.

“Squeezing my fingers so fuckin’ tight. That’s it, babydoll, you’re doing so well for me. Let Daddy take it all for you. I’m right here.”

Blissful numbness. His warmth, his voice. You would have loved to fall asleep.

“Not yet, pretty girl,” he chuckled while he took out his pocket square. Humming, he cleaned you with that expensive cloth before tucking your mess into a hidden pocket. “Unless you’ll let me kill all the vultures so you can take a nap.”

Another small, but real laugh left your throat. 

This isn’t safe. I shouldn’t feel safe. 

Yet somehow, this villainous man always made you feel safe.

 

~~~~~~

 

~~~🐊🐊🐊~~~

 

I have to keep her safe. I should send her away, as far from me as possible. I hurt her. 

I need her.

Crocodile was a selfish man, and hearing her laugh again made him greedy. So fucking greedy for her. 

He’d sworn to himself that he’d let her go, but he couldn’t stop. He wasn’t a good enough man to hold his tongue.

“Y/N?” 

She looked up with fear in her eyes, so he shook his head, smiling softly at her need for comfort. 

At his need to comfort her. 

“Sorry, sweet girl. I just have something to tell you,” he breathed. A buzzing feeling pushed through his body when her eyes went soft again. It felt as though he were about to lose control, to fall into a million, tiny pieces, leaving his girl with nothing but sand.

“I’ll never be a good man,” he struggled with the truth. He couldn’t lie to her, but he hoped it would be enough. “I’m a terrible man, Y/N, but I wanna be a good man to you.”

The crease between her brows could have meant so many things. He’d pushed himself, straining through those words while he held her in his arms, wanting to hold her forever, never let her go. 

“I love you, sweetheart,” Crocodile confessed, these new words slipping out as though they were always meant to, wrapping warmth around them both. “I didn’t know I could love. My heart was as dead and deadly as sand, but now I love you.”

He couldn’t resist touching her beautiful face now, his thumb tracing along her cheek. She didn’t seem to be breathing, but his words, now freed, couldn’t be stopped. 

“I don’t know what you did, Y/N, but I’m yours. I’ll always be here for you. I’ll always take care of my sweet girl, if you want—“

“Please excuse me for the interruption,” squeaked an usher through a crack in the door, their eyes going wide at the look of death on Crocodile’s face. “The dinner and show are starting, and President Buggy will be introducing you. Would you like…”

“I’d like you to get out of my sight.”

 

~~~🐊🐊🐊~~~

 

~~~~~~

 

The terrified staff member let out a tiny yelp before closing the door, leaving Crocodile to help you up. He went over your dress, making sure everything was in place. You hoped he wasn’t lying when he reported that your face and hair were still presentable, if that’s what, “beautiful,” meant.

Luckily, it seemed that the presence of leeches had helped you regain your ability to hold in your tears. 

Yet Crocodile had helped you let out that stress without any tears. Not all the stress though. Not even close.

He led you through the banquet hall while every eye was trained on you. The guests had all made it to their seats, and it felt like trudging through a swamp to keep that perfect smile going, holding it up while you joined Mihawk at the head table.

“Did you two have a relaxing break,” Mihawk purred when the lights went down. 

“Behave,” Crocodile teased in a hoarse whisper, and the lightness between them made you shiver. 

“Hello again, honored guests,” Buggy called, leaving his feet to hover above the stage. He lounged in the air, as though he were laying across that green, velvet couch. 

Guests were already buzzing from this small act, and you saw that satisfied smile grow on your clown’s face. 

“We have many mysterious and masterful performers here for you tonight. Please, enjoy your meal, enjoy the lovely company around you, and enjoy the delightful and dangerous show that the Cross Guild has prepared just for you.”

Applause began before he’d finished, and he bowed, taking it in before flying over the tables. The spotlight followed him, and he winked down at you before showing you all off. 

“Let me begin by introducing my executives, whose names and reputations I’m sure you already know. You have to know, don’t you? Sir Crocodile, and Dracule Mihawk!”

They glared at the crowd, and you almost laughed. 

“And most of you are already lucky enough to know our Chief Financial Officer, the lovely and talented, Miss Y/N Sylvad!”

A flood of memories of being announced at boring parties poured through your mind. Even through the spotlight, you could see those greedy faces. Your name was blood in the water, calling every shark to circle around you, just waiting to take their piece. 

Crocodile patted your back, and you realized that you’d missed the end of Buggy’s speech, lost in your own mind. 

You hated being lost in there.

Buggy sat on Mihawk’s other side, but he sent his hand behind the table until he found yours, squeezing until you gave him a small smile. 

“Breathe, little rabbit,” Mihawk rasped, his voice already enough to make you sigh. “What can we do to help when you’re overwhelmed? It’s going to be a long night.”

“Hurt me,” you whispered, huffing a laugh at the disgruntled noises the three of them made before you explained. “Just enough to get me out of my head.”

You glanced at the swordsman, finding concern on his face that you didn’t want anyone else to see. 

“You don’t happen to have a tiny sword you can poke me with if I space out, do you,” you joked, hoping to wipe that concern away.

“Actually, I do,” he chuckled, tapping a finger on the large cross pendant he wore.

“No,” you breathed, having to force your mouth to close instead of gaping at him. “That’s been a blade this whole time?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t hunt little rabbits with a cannon, now would I,” Mihawk teased, jerking his head toward Yoru. “I’ll help you stay in the moment, love.”

“Thank you,” you laughed, another real laugh. This one was cut short by the tension in Crocodile’s hushed words.

“Fuck, I forgot to tell you again,” he started, pulling away before reaching for you in front of the crowd. “We’re starting the bounties tonight, sweetheart. We’ve got—“

Music filled the space, though not too loud, as you still needed the guests to psych each other up. The sword swallowers and fire breathers alternated between hypnotic dancing, and making the crowd gasp with fear and awe at their dangerous talents.

“I know what we’re doing here,” you declared, eyes traveling over all the terrible people in the room. “People are going to die because of me. All for a few berries.”

“This isn’t just for berry, darling,” Mihawk assured, a cold anger in his voice that you could tell wasn’t for you. “The Marines have been abusing their power for far too long. They have declared war on the free of this world. That amount of unearned arrogance deserves to be punished.”

“What does earned arrogance deserve,” Buggy teased, breaking the tension, and allowing everyone to take a breath.

“Keep up the good work, and maybe you’ll find out, pretty clown.”

You had to look away from the pleased shock that took over Buggy’s face, the swordsman’s heated promise making even Crocodile chuckle. 

The sight you landed on when you scanned through the crowd gave you a headache.

Shanks was grinning, leaning in close to Uncle Cedrick, those brown eyes far too soft.

What the fuck?

 

~~~~~~

 

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

 

The red haired pirate was sipping his fourth drink instead of downing it, waiting for his prey. 

Waiting while his mind roared, Buggy’s voice echoed through his skull along with Y/N's, his lovely star. She wasn’t in the room when he'd left Buggy backstage again, and Shanks had to gulp down his panic.

Did I already fail? 

There he was.

Cedrick Sylvad glided to his seat beside him, giving an annoyingly charming smile to everyone at the table.

Is that what I look like? Fucking–

“Red Haired Shanks, I presume? Or do you prefer your other title, Emper–”

“Call me, Shanks,” he grinned, taking Cedrick’s hand while he tried to exude that image of himself he’d believed in before he came to this cursed island. “You must be Mr. Sylvad.”

He gestured to the card on the table, that dangerous name too unexpected to have been etched onto shining metal like all the others. 

“Cedrick is fine, thank you.”

Before Shanks could dig into the man’s brain, all eyes turned to her. 

Y/N managed a feat that should have been impossible. She walked beside Sir Crocodile, a giant of a man, a frightening, fascinating monster, yet she was all anyone could stare at. Shanks smiled to himself at how graceful she looked compared to when she tried to dance. 

Even as lost as she was, Y/N had something precious about her. 

 

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

 

~~~⏰🔴🔴🔴⏰~~~

 

“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Mr. Sylvad.”

“Please, call me Arbo.” 

It was rare for someone’s voice to carry that much ease while a known pirate was sitting before them. The man’s eyes held a warmth that seemed to draw people in, even from behind his exquisite and domineering desk. 

“How could I resist a meeting with the infamous Red Haired Shanks?”

The pirate’s breathing relaxed, sensing that the friendly banter from this lumber tycoon seemed to be genuine. 

“I don’t know about infamous, yet,” he smirked, tilting his head back and forth. “But maybe you can help me with that.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I can’t,” Arbo apologized, a wistful smile touching his lips. 

“But I haven't told—“

“You want me to procure lumber from a Jewel Tree Adam so you can build yourself a new pirate ship, don’t you? Just like dear old dad did for Roger and Tom way back when?”

Shanks gave a shocked laugh, finding he was enjoying himself, even though his request had been declined so quickly.

“So, why can’t you follow in your dad’s footsteps? We can make it worth your while.”

Arbo shook his head, rubbing the pad of his thumb across some colored lines that marred the wood of his desk. 

“My daughter has informed me that ‘the Adam Trees are precious, and only bad guys would chop one down,” he chuckled, his brows lifting when he met Shanks’ gaze again. “She can be very persuasive.”

No wonder Roger liked this family.

“Guess I’m out of luck then,” Shanks laughed, letting this tiny dream go with more ease than he’d expected. “Your daughter sounds very wise, how old is she?”

“Too young for pirates,” Arbo scolded with a smile, pouring amber liquid into two glasses. “But I’m not too old to hear a few pirate tales if you’d like a stay for a drink.”

 

~~~⏰🔴🔴🔴⏰~~~

 

~~~~~~

 

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

 

“Why didn’t you get a fancy placard,” Shanks flirted, tapping his fork against the metal of his own nameplate. “If I know much about your family, you should have the fanciest one here.”

I can help them. I’ll help her.

“I don’t need the pomp and circumstance,” Cedrick laughed, a bit of satisfaction curling at his lips. “Seems we share that in common, Emperor.”

“If you’re making fun of my clothes, go right ahead,” Shanks smirked, smoothing his hand over the wrinkles of his nicest pants. “Although, if I make a few friends at this party, I might have more berry to spend on fancy suits.”

“There are only a handful of worthy ‘friends’ in this crowd,” he scoffed, his voice low. “Just what would a friendship with an Emperor of the Sea entail? The world is changing fast, and you—“

“Mr. Sylvad,” cooed a woman half buried in silks and furs. “I had no idea I’d be lucky enough to meet you at an event like this. Isn’t it fabulous? It’s about time something like this…”

The table attacked at that opening, pulling Y/N’s uncle into endless, simpering small talk that made Shanks want to haki the whole place just to shut them all up.

Fuck. 

“In case we don’t get the opportunity to speak later,” Cedrick hushed as he pushed a card across the table, avoiding the ridiculous amount of silverware in the way. Shanks winked, tucking it away.

It's something. 

 

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

 

~~~~~~

 

Your clown had inhaled what he could of his meal before flying down to lead the last performances. His voice, his energy, and his wit made even these judgmental assholes smile. 

He looks so happy like this. Maybe… Maybe I don’t have to—

“Ow, fuck,” you startled, shaking your hand from the sharp pain. You rubbed a thumb over the back of your hand, the tiniest pinprick of blood showing on your skin. 

“I’m sorry, love,” Mihawk rasped, his hands flexing as they stayed away. “You looked like you might cry, and you said—“

“Thank you, I’m okay,” you laughed, gasping softly when Crocodile touched your arm. Turning to your other side, his heavy eyes sent chills over your skin. 

“It’s time,” he started, and you could hear the struggle in his words, even over the music and voices bouncing through the hall. You cut him off before he could continue.

“You’re going to be a monster,” you breathed, twisting your fingers on your lap. “But not to me. Never to me.”

An almost laugh left his throat, a tentative, but pleased smirk touching his lips. 

“That’s my sweet girl.”

 

~~~

 

“Are we all sated? Or are we still ravenous for more?”

Buggy’s voice was twisted now, tempting and overwhelming. Crocodile had joined him on the stage, and the crowd went silent.

“Everyone in this room has at least one thing in common,” the clown noted, spinning a web of wicked words around the guests, pirates and leeches alike. “We all have a desire for more out of life, and we won’t let anyone stop us. No matter what kind of silly uniforms they wear.”

His gestures while he paced the stage were mesmerizing. Your shining star embodied this tantalizing image of what people wanted mania to be, and it was impossible to look away from. 

This clown had the vultures eating right out of his gloved hand. 

Buggy riled them up until they were practically frothing at the mouth before he tossed the reins to Crocodile.

“You are all people of influence,” he began with a hint of annoyance that faded as he got to work. “You know that times are changing, and we know that you’d like to keep making berry, no matter which way the wind blows.”

Crocodile was captivating in his own way, his deep voice almost taunting. Goading them into playing along, into giving him what he wanted. 

“Hear, hear,” a man called out, raising his glass until everyone toasted to money. Always money.

Silver eyes found yours, and you chewed your lip at his little smirk. Crocodile had almost caught you rolling your eyes. You started to scold yourself for not being better at hiding, but it was getting harder to stamp it out the more you saw them, the more you heard their voices.

Maybe…

“Care to lend me a hand with the party favors, Mr. President?”

Buggy cackled, his floating hands snatching the roll of mock bounties from Crocodile’s grasp. Delicious, true laughter fell from your shocked lips, even more when he dropped a poster onto the table in front of you, sneakily tugging your ear before calling everyone’s attention back to the stage. Crocodile stood beside the wheel, using his hook to tear down the large sheet that had been covering it all night.

Buggy stood on the other side, grinning while he pointed his thumbs toward the enlarged poster that was plastered to the wood. A black and white photo of a marine’s face was frowning at the crowd, with question marks in place of a reward. The buzzing in the room grew serious, until silence fell once again when that golden hook tapped against the wheel.

“Captain Tront here has been causing quite a bit of trouble for some of you, if I’m not mistaken?”

“Damned ferret.”

“He’s been a nuisance! All that trade…”

“Honestly, I don’t know what they were thinking promoting—“

“Been costing you quite a bit of berry with his crackdown on your more refined shipping operations, hasn’t he?”

Crocodile looked smug, with Buggy basking in the glow, almost giddy. 

What easy marks my old clients are turning out to be...

That name on the posters was one that you’d written down in your notes multiple times. You’d heard so many complaints about the strict Captain Tront, how he’d been cramping so much fun, keeping so much morally gray business from passing through his newly appointed territory.

More voices than you’d expected agreed with Crocodile, then gasped when Buggy floated above the stage again. 

“If this little captain is gonna keep costing you all that berry, wouldn’t it make more sense to get him off the seas, and out of your hair? Or out of your wallets,” he suggested, his voice light, but coiled with sinful temptation.

More vicious excitement moved through the hall, the vultures salivating at the promise of more money and power to hoard for themselves. 

“How much would you pay for someone to take care of this little problem for you,” Crocodile prodded, stoking the flames of their sick greed. 

An auction of sorts began, a competition for who would be responsible, who would be the hero of the day, and take credit for destroying the nasty pest. 

The ostentatious Mayor Kottley won out, a surprising contender until you remembered that he traded in bodies. That wasn’t a good that the World Government approved of, no matter how willing the bodies were. 

The slaves that the nobles stole for themselves were the exception, of course. 

As insufferable as he was, at least Kottley’s goods had chosen that line of work, and were said to be the best of the best. Not being able to send his employees out on their “business trips” had put a damper on his profits. 

“Would anyone like to add to the bounty, an extra incentive if the Cross Guild provides express service?”

The fervor with which these pigs fought to pay for a man’s death was sickening to watch. 

My work put that face on the board. I’m no better. 

“Such forward thinkers,” Buggy praised, his hands floating the contracts down to be signed by the Cross Guild’s first official clients. “You won’t be disappointed.”

Crocodile scanned the signed documents before catching your eyes again, another moment of hesitation. 

I’m a bad person too, Daddy.

 

~~~~~~

 

~~~🐊🐊🐊~~~

 

Please don’t be scared of me, sweetheart. Please don’t leave.

Crocodile couldn’t stall any longer, knocking loudly on the wheel once more.

“Alvida, bring out the real party favor.”

That gorgeous, wicked pirate smirked while she dragged a struggling body onto the stage, more bruised and bloodied than he’d been earlier. She must have had to keep him quiet while they waited in the wings.

There were shocked gasps, surprised laughter, and a smattering of impressed applause while the guests watched Captain Tront be strapped to the wheel. 

She’s gonna hate me.

“Since tonight is a celebration of your generous support, we’ll be holding this execution in person to show our gratitude,” Crocodile announced, noting the gluttony on all those faces. Leeches did seem to be an appropriate word for this crowd. “If you’d rather not witness the dirty work, please follow the ushers to enjoy some after dinner drinks and music down the hall. We’ll try to keep it down in here.”

He chuckled, and the laughter was echoed throughout the banquet hall. 

Not a single, wretched soul rose from their seats.

“Guess it's time for the finale,” he smirked, holding his hook to the marine’s throat. 

Crocodile couldn’t stop himself. He had to look at her.

Y/N gave him a soft smile that filled him with equal parts shame and pride. A sick pleasure that he knew he should fight. 

But he had always been a bad man. 

Maybe my sweet girl can be a sweet, little monster with me…

 

~~~🐊🐊🐊~~~

Notes:

Morals? Who needs 'em 🤷

~

A lovely anon on tumblr asked if I had a playlist for Numbers Game. Well now I do, and I can't stop, lol. Here's the links if you're interested, since I think I forgot to add them here!

Numbers Game playlist:
YouTube Music Link
YouTube Link

Chapter 26: I’ll Follow You

Summary:

Buggy and Shanks have one more talk before the show, and their memories haunt them both as the big finale stuns the crowd.

Notes:

!!! EXTRA SPOILER WARNING !!! I'm so sorry! I'm not usually a manga reader, and haven't started to tackle One Piece yet, so I didn't realize that I've been working off of a manga spoiler that I got spoiled on last year while doing Buggy research. It's a very brief flashback from chapter 1082 that reveals the end the argument that Buggy and Shanks had after Roger's execution that we see just a glimpse of back when Shanks met with Whitebeard after Enies Lobby. I've written my own version of that flashback in the first scene. That's not the main thing that caused the rift between them in my story, so you are free to skip over it if you like, and there is plenty more Shuggy content for you in this chapter. I feel like this detail can be inferred from the anime event that I already warn for at the end of the Wano arc, but if you'd like to avoid that specific scene, please skip the first section! It's bracketed with these symbols: ~~~⏰🤡🔴⏰~~~

 

EXTRAS:
Tumblr Links to the Author's Vision of the Party Attire ~ Reader ~ The Boys

Ongoing Series Playlist ~ YouTube Music Link ~ YouTube Link

Alternate POV Symbols:
🌲 ~ Flashbacks from Reader's Past | 🐊 ~ Crocodile | 🗡 ~ Mihawk | 🤡 ~ Buggy | 🔴 ~ Shanks | ⏰ ~ Flashbacks for listed POV | ⚫ ~ Scenes depicting Dark Content listed in Author's Notes

~~~⏰🔴🤡⏰~~~

 

Rain. 

What a strange feeling. 

How long has it been raining?

Has his blood been washed away already?

Buggy paced back and forth through the alley, waiting for his friend, his rival, to show up. Roger’s declaration had sent chaos through the city. Loguetown’s guards were circling, trying desperately to catch every witness before the new age could begin.

Nothing can stop Roger’s dream. Not even death.

Buggy choked on his almost optimistic thought. He couldn’t understand this new reality.

He needed to see Shanks.

~~~

Shanks couldn’t think in words, his tears too heavy for even the rain to wash away. 

Roger. 

The weight of grief and pressure would have paralyzed him, if not for his instincts to survive. The red haired boy flew through the town, his body running from the death of a man that meant family, searching for a blue haired boy that meant home.

~~~

“Shanks, you dumbass,” Buggy scolded, eyes scanning over his friend’s pale face. “What took you so long? It’s not safe–”

“I’m here,” he whispered, pulling Buggy in for a hug. Buggy shook him off to grab him by the shoulders, ignoring the rain that still poured over them both.

“Well, let’s hurry up,” the clown tried to sound positive, trying to push through the pain of losing the man that raised him. He needed to cheer Shanks up, to see his friend shining again. “You made Roger a promise, remember? You’re gonna get a ship, and we’ll go find the One Piece on our own. So let’s go!”

I can’t do it.

“I’ve changed my mind,” Shanks grimaced, trying to stay steady. Trying not to fall apart. “I don’t feel like trying to get there now. But I’ll still be a pirate.”

Buggy stared. He couldn’t be hearing this. Not from Shanks.

I thought he was gonna be the next king. That’s what Roger wanted, wasn't it? Shanks wouldn’t say this. 

The boy in the straw hat couldn’t take the look on his friend's face. 

I can’t, Buggy. Please, just… 

“Come with me, Buggy!”

Everything cracked. Every vision of the future that Buggy had decided he wanted. Every shining image of Shanks that made him believe, made him trust. 

You’re not who I thought you were, Shanks. 

“I’m not gonna work under you, idiot!! You– you COWARD!!”

Shanks broke, yet again. He couldn’t take it. Couldn’t lose everything all at once. He couldn’t speak while Buggy used an old accident against him, leaving him with shame and loneliness that he didn’t know what to do with.

I believed in you, Shanks.

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten that you lost my treasure map? And I can’t swim because of you! It’s your fault I can’t…” Buggy croaked out, covering his true pain with the only thing he could think of that would get him away from this liar. This false idol. This person that he’d poured all of his own dreams into. “Well, I haven’t forgiven you, Shanks! So until the next time we meet…”

The rain fell harder, as though nature were trying to drown out this moment before it could ruin their lives. 

But it was too late.

“We’re enemies!!”

 

~~~⏰🔴🤡⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🤡🔴🤡~~~

 

Fuck. Just breathe. 

Buggy paced in his dressing room after he finished the intro, his hands floating around him so his fingers could walk and tap along his whole body. It wasn’t enough to calm him down. 

I can do this. I won’t fuck it up. They won’t take her again.

That worry was still present, although it was shrinking a bit more each day.

Nope. Can’t think about that.

There wasn’t enough time to unpack why his “executives” were less scary now. They could still hurt them. They could still take her from him.

Showtimeshowtimeshowtime.

Buggy blew a few raspberries while he shook his arms out, about to run through some more vocal warmups when someone knocked on the door.

“Bugs, I’m sorry, but I need to tell you something. Now.”

~~~

“What the fuck, Sha—“

The red haired pirate pushed his way in, losing every word he’d struggled to come up with while he snuck back here again. 

“Get out, dumbass,” Buggy ordered, almost grateful to have someone to yell at. Or he would have been grateful if this new, pathetic version of Shanks wasn’t hurting his brain. 

“It’s about Y/N,” Shanks pleaded. He’d never seen Buggy’s face change the way it did at those words, at the urgency in them.

“Tell me,” Buggy growled, not sure what to do with the tension that had just shot through him. He couldn’t think yet. 

“Her uncle crashed the party. I’m— hold on,” Shanks groaned when Buggy tried to shove past him. The red haired pirate pressed his back against the door, struggling to calm his old friend down. “Crocodile is seating him with me, okay? I told you I’ll look out for her out there. I won’t let you down. I just wanted you to know what’s going on.”

“How is she,” Buggy demanded. His breathing was ragged when he finally stopped trying to tear his way through the other man to get to the door. “Is she okay, did he… Is she okay?”

The urge to run out and find her was overwhelming, but he forced himself to listen.

“She’s still with Crocodile and Mihawk. I didn’t before, but… I think she’s safe with them, Buggy. At least for tonight.”

The clown gaped at him, mind still churning from all of those promises to take her away from danger. 

Shanks felt himself losing his hold, losing his hope for the future he wanted, and it fucking stung. 

She’s more important. I can’t use her for my own goals. Not again. 

Y/N’s sick laughter, and her rage filled demands echoed within him.

“I’m gonna sit with him, Bugs. I'll do everything I can to protect her. I promise.”

“… He doesn’t know you’re our friend, right? Just a guest?”

“I’m just an honored guest,” Shanks laughed, that bitter taste still fresh on his tongue. 

“Don’t let him know,” Buggy ordered, grabbing Shanks by the chin as he glared into his eyes from inches away, “just in case. It’d be good to have someone with an in that he doesn’t think we’re connected to, at least not closely.” 

“Got it, so I—“

“Do that fucking thing you do,” Buggy continued as he started to pace, his fingers snapping, then tapping again. 

Shanks started to question, but the clown talked over him until all he could do was listen. 

“Do that smile everyone loves. Not this weird one,” he scoffed as he gestured toward Shanks’ face. “Do the cheesy one that makes everyone wanna lick your fucking sandals.”

“Excuse me,” Shanks laughed, forgetting. Buggy made him forget it all again, for just a moment.

“I said stop being this miserable, idiot person, and go flirt with that asshole until you get something we can use against him! You could charm a fucking sea beast, Shanks, I know you can—“

Shanks had enough restraint to keep from smearing Buggy’s makeup with a kiss, but he bellowed with laughter as he pulled his friend into a hug. 

“I won’t let you down,” he promised, “I won’t let her down. I’m here for you, Bugs.”

Always.

 

~~~🔴🤡🔴🤡~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🔴🤡⏰~~~

 

“Buggy?”

No.

“Gods, Buggy! What’s it been, four, five years now? You look great!”

Buggy wished he could have looked away, wished he could have pretended he was someone else. 

But no one in the world looked like him. 

Shanks gave him no time to process, no space. He just sat beside him at the bar, wrapping an arm around his shoulders before looking back while he called out. 

“Guys, this is Buggy! My friend that I’ve—“

“We know, captain,” chuckled a man with warm brown skin, and dark blonde dreads. Buggy had turned to find the source of the voice, spotting a small, eclectic group at a large booth with him.  

“Fuck, it’s good to see you,” Shanks beamed, his cheeks already starting to hurt. It had been so long. He couldn’t believe Buggy was right here beside him. He held his breath as he pulled his old friend into a darkened, corner booth.

Buggy could breathe a bit easier once they were out of everyone’s line of sight, shaking his head slightly at how out of character that was for him. 

“Shanks…”

“Buggy!”

The red haired pirate scooted close before wrapping his arms around the quiet clown, letting out soft, gasping laughs. He giggled more when Buggy disconnected his hand so he could grab his mug to take a large swig. 

“I missed you, old friend,” Shanks pulled back, his wide eyes darting too fast while he tried to take in every detail. “I love your hair.”

Buggy shivered when Shanks tugged on his blue hair, grown so much longer since they last saw each other. 

Memories of that painful day hit his mind, and he jolted when Shanks touched his hand.

“Sorry, Bugs, I’m just so happy to see you.”

“You’ve got a crew already,” Buggy noted, embarrassment kicking in at how far behind he was, yet again.

“It’s not a lot, but we’re growing,” the red haired pirate grinned toward his small crew that was becoming his new family. His new world. 

And here was his old world, frowning into his mug. 

“We’re staying here tonight, but I can show you my ship tomorrow if you…”

“Sounds good,” Buggy coughed, downing the rest of his bitter drink. He couldn’t afford the sweeter things he liked, but he wanted to seem more impressive anyway. 

“Have you been in this town long,” Shanks asked, gaining control of his excitement enough to notice Buggy’s mood, so he tried to shift his tone. “I bet you know the best lookout spots already. What about the market? You have a con or two going yet?”

“Of course I do,” Buggy grumbled, stealing Shanks’ mug for a sip. His face went hot when his friend’s hand rested on his wrist instead of taking the drink back. Old, strange feelings started flooding through him, and he didn’t know what to do with it all.

“I’ll follow you, then,” Shanks teased, nudging Buggy out of the booth.

~~~

Sunset in this shitty town wasn’t too bad when you had a good roof, a decent bottle of booze, and an old friend that reminded you of better days. 

The young pirates laughed, drank, and shared stories, finally having their own to share instead of their versions of the same tale.

Stars filled the sky, like a million tiny spotlights reaching out just to shine on them. 

Buggy let out a soft gasp, his body tingling when Shanks moved beside him, pulling him down until they laid on their backs with their shoulders and arms pressed against each other. 

And the backs of their hands. Their fingers every time they moved.

Right. This feels right.

What am I doing? I should leave. 

“You know, I think about you, Buggy,” Shanks confessed, tilting his head to gaze at the real star beside him. “I’ve thought about you so many times.”

Fingers flexed, warm and cool skin, barely connecting. Knuckles touched, rubbing together, so very lightly.

Buggy clenched his eyes shut, trying to remember why he thought he shouldn’t be here with Shanks. What was the point? 

He’d been alone for so long.

His breath went strange. The tingling feeling grew. Dizziness hit.

Why are his fingers touching mine like this? Why are my fingers reaching back? 

Shanks felt compelled, his body aching for Buggy’s touch in a way they’d never shared before. He’d known that he missed his friend, but he didn’t realize how desperately until now. Seeing him again made him high, made him reach out. 

Made him hold Buggy’s hand under the stars. 

“I missed you too, Shanks.”

~~~

“Fuck off, Shanks.”

“Okay, okay,” he soothed, holding out his hands to block Buggy’s path when he tried to shove past him, and out of the captain’s cabin. “Why not just stay for a little while then? You don’t need to be a crew member to sail with us to the next island, right? It’ll save you some berry.”

Those soft, brown eyes seemed to be poisonous. The longer Buggy spent falling into them, the weaker he became. 

“Fine, but just until the next island,” Buggy grumbled, gasping when Shanks tackled him in a hug. They breathed each other in, the air vibrating around them by the time they separated. Their hands seemed drawn together like magnets. Shanks trailed his fingers down Buggy’s arms, wrists, hands, holding for just a moment.

“I’m not sleeping in one of those crappy bunks. You really need to get a better ship soon, this one–”

“Sleep with me,” Shanks blurted, his face not going nearly as red as his friend’s. “I mean sleep in here with me, my bed’s pretty big. It’ll be just like old times!”

He skirted around the clown, plopping onto the edge of the mediocre bed before patting the mattress beside him. 

Buggy gaped, not sure why every new conversation with Shanks made him feel like he was falling off the edge of the world.

“I don’t…”

“It’s alright,” Shanks breathed, his heart racing faster than he knew it could. “I can sleep in a cot if you want.”

I’ve never wanted anyone like this. He’s right here, so close to my bed. I need to touch him, need to feel him. 

“Don’t be an idiot,” Buggy scolded, plopping down beside his red haired friend. “I won’t have your crew coming after me for making their captain…”

Shanks laid his hand on Buggy’s thigh, and a high pitched ringing seemed to take all the sounds from the world. 

“Buggy, I– mmn,” Shanks moaned at the firm press of lips against his. Buggy grabbed his face, and the taste of grease paint was deliciously bitter as their first kiss deepened. His clown crawled over him, straddling his lap while Shanks lost himself. 

What am I doing…

Buggy stopped listening to his doubts, stopped caring. Shanks’ warmth, the hungry sounds he was making, and his strong hands gripping his back, his thighs, pulling him even closer, took over every thought, every sensation. He’d never felt anything like this. Couldn’t believe he was doing this.

He couldn’t believe his beautiful friend was letting him. 

“You’re perfect, Bugs,” Shanks hummed, kissing down his friend's throat. “You feel so good.”

The clown made a frustrated noise, kissing that mouth again before it could say anything else. 

“Shut up,” he whispered against smiling lips.

“No,” Shanks declared as he stood, making Buggy yelp when he flipped them around, tossing them both onto the bed. Buggy’s blue hair shined around him like a halo while his teeth scraped over his messy, lower lip. Shanks had caged him in, but kept that aching part of his body from connecting yet, though he wasn’t sure how long he could stand it. 

“I won’t shut up ‘til you believe it,” Shanks teased, leaning down for a soft kiss. “You’re amazing, Buggy! You’re beautiful, and funny, and soo fucking sexy.”

“Sexy,” he whispered, gasping underneath the red haired pirate. It was too much. Too good. 

“Can I prove it to you,” Shanks rasped, low and dangerous while he lost his strength to hold back.

“Go ahead and try, but I don’t– fuck…”

Shanks had grabbed Buggy’s hand, throwing his head back when he wrapped those gloved fingers around his own throbbing cock. He guided Buggy’s hand as he stroked up and down his length through his pants before finding the clown just as painfully needy as he was. 

“Gods, Buggy... You want me too, don’t you, baby?”

Buggy’s body answered for him, his back arching at those tempting words. He couldn’t stop shaking from that incredible touch, but nothing could pry his hand loose, Shanks’ cock twitching in his palm through that thin fabric.

“Shanks, please.”

“Please, what,” Shanks half teased, half begged. “Tell me what you want, and I just might give it to you.”

Buggy almost sobbed when Shanks moved their hands away, blocking his weak attempts to reach for him again. 

“I know you hate listening to me,” Shanks purred, his body pulsing at Buggy’s little sounds when he whispered those words into his ear. He pulled back enough to meet those crystal eyes, almost forgetting his goal. Almost.

“But I wanna make you feel good, Buggy,” he promised. “I want you to—“

“Just do it already,” Buggy groaned as he pulled Shanks onto him, and they both let out desperate noises when their bodies connected. The red haired pirate rolled away, shaking his head while he scolded him.

“Don’t be impatient, Bugs. I wanna take my time with— hey, you okay? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Buggy choked out. He clenched his eyes shut, wanting to jump through the little, round window into the fucking ocean. “I’m fine, sorry.”

“Bugs,” Shanks whispered, wanting to reach out, but not sure if he should. “I’m sorry, we can take things slow, okay? I’m just excited you’re here with me.”

“Ugh,” the clown groaned while he rolled over, his frustrated noise continuing as he breathed it into a pillow. 

“Can I get you anything,” Shanks offered, sitting cross legged while he stared down at that pretty hair. He held his own fingers in his lap to resist trailing them through all of that lovely blue. His friend made an incomprehensible sound that brought the hint of a smile to his lips. “Sorry, I didn’t catch tha—“

“Just kill me,” Buggy grumbled, tilting to squint at Shanks with one eye, hoping that he’d disappeared. 

There he was. Perfect. Saying such wonderful things. The way he’d touched him...

It was too much. Too good to be true. 

Buggy had tried to find someone. Most of the time people wouldn’t take him seriously, but there were some that didn’t mind him being a clown. 

Until they asked him to take off his nose. 

Even those that were open to kissing, to touching such a freak, couldn’t hold it in. There was always a moment. An awkward giggle. A brief look of disgust when they thought he wasn’t paying attention. He should have just gone through with it, just accepted that was how it would always be. 

No one wanted to touch him.

Buggy rolled onto his back to find Shanks waiting, a tiny smile on those lips that were smeared with his paint. The sight tore a bittersweet laugh from the clown’s throat.

“I don’t want your pity,” he confessed and demanded, struggling to keep his voice steady. “You don’t need to touch me. I’m sorry I kissed you.”

“What are you talking about?”

After all these years, those soft brown eyes had looked at him like that. Just the thought of those eyes turning sour hurt more than all of the others that had. He pushed himself up, moving toward the door, needing to escape before that moment could arrive.

“Buggy!”

Their hearts seemed to clash against each other with heavy, frantic beats when Shanks wrapped himself around his friend’s back.

Please, don’t leave again.

“There’s no pity,” he implored, his breath warming the back of Buggy’s neck through all that lovely hair. “I’m glad you kissed me, Bugs. I’d really like it if you did it again, but only if you want to.”

The clown lost all momentum, his painful doubts and fears struggling to stay front of mind with Shanks all around him.

“Just tell me what you need. I’m here for you, Bugs. Always.”

“Shut up, you sap,” Buggy rasped, grabbing onto the hands that gripped his chest. He melted at the hum of relief Shanks let out, and at the breath that moved to the side of his neck, touching his skin.

“Just tell me if you wanna stop.”

“I don’t wanna stop. Just— gods.”

The clown’s gasping moan brought a low growl from Shanks’ throat when he kissed and sucked his neck, pressing his swollen cock against Buggy’s ass. He freed one of his hands to travel down, reaching down, until he dipped his fingers into those teal pants. 

“Can’t believe you were about to walk out that door,” he teased, licking and nibbling at Buggy’s ear. “Not when you’re this fucking hard for me. Mm, you’re shaking, Bugs. Want me to—“

“Shut up,” Buggy laughed this time, pulling away from that wicked hold.

Just right now. It’s okay if it’s only for right now. We can be…

“Oh, fuuck,” Shanks moaned, his own legs shaking as he stared down. Buggy had gone to his knees, turning to face him before tugging at his pants. It didn’t take long before Buggy wrapped gloved fingers around his shaft, frowning at his own accessories while he paused his task.

Shanks held in a laugh at that adorable face, grabbing one of the clown’s hands to kiss those gloved fingers. 

“You don’t need to hide from me, Bugs,” he promised, smiling as he bit down on the fabric. He laughed through his teeth now at Buggy’s new expression while he tore the glove free. 

A soft, little smirk touched Buggy’s lips before he copied his friend, growling when he pulled the other glove off with his teeth.

“You know, I can… I want… Fuck, that feels so good, Buggy. Just like that.”

Part of Buggy was still waiting for the look on Shanks’ face to twist, but all it did was go desperate, a sight he hadn’t known he needed to see. His perfect friend, falling to pieces for him. His taste, his voice, his thick, veiny cock that Buggy was learning how to breathe around. Every word of praise that fell from his friend's lips felt like a standing ovation, and the fingers that twisted into his hair made his eyes roll back in his head. 

Shanks was shocked that he was still on his feet with the way his friend's eyes burned into him like that. 

He’s so beautiful. So fucking good.

The way Buggy had wasted no time in taking him down his throat sent so much pleasure through him, as though his clown was just as desperate for him as he was. 

Buggy’s hands shifted, one stroking along his base, the other massaging his balls until Shanks’ head fell back, almost whimpering.

“You’re so fucking— sooo good, Bugs. Fuck, you’re gonna make me come, baby. I want— wanna make you feel good too…”

Buggy let out a choked laugh, muffled through that throbbing cock, but he couldn’t help it. He had a moment of fear that Shanks would be disgusted, but the needy look on his friend's face pushed him through. 

“Buggy,” Shanks laughed, then moaned at the sight of Buggy’s cock floating up in front of his face, achingly hard, and dripping with precum. 

“Such a good boy for me. Come on, Buggy. Fuck my throat ‘til we both come,” Shanks ordered, fisting that pretty, blue hair, and giving his friend a wicked smirk. “Think you can— mmnf”

Holy shit. This is real. This is Shanks.

Buggy’s here. He’s mine.

Nothing else existed. 

These two long lost friends created their own perfect world made up of their strangled moans, their tingling bodies, and the overwhelming pleasure they drank from each other. 

There was something powerful, almost too real, in the way they looked at each other while they came, until that blissful heat pouring down their throats sent both sets of eyes rolling back. 

The way they looked at each other afterwards stunned them both into silence. Time stood still, until Shanks couldn’t stand anymore. 

He joined Buggy on his knees, awe showing in that crooked smile of his while he brought his hands up to cradle Buggy’s face. 

“I missed you, Bugs,” Shanks breathed against his friend’s lips.

“Of course you did.”

 

~~~⏰🔴🤡⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🤡🔴🤡~~~

 

“Get off of me, shithead,” Buggy growled while he pushed Shanks away, frustrated with how much he wanted to let him take over his world again. “Go figure out how to get rid of that asshole. Thinks he can just come in here, and… Why is he here?”

“I don’t know yet.” 

The red haired man’s momentary relief from guilt was withering away, as though his body could feel where the next few words would take them. 

“Well, he’s a fucking moron if he thinks he can just walk in here and take her. Like the fucking Cross Guild is just gonna let someone take our girl? Our— What?”

Y/N’s voice filled Shanks’ mind, her empty eyes branded onto his guilty heart. 

‘I can’t go with you. Please make him happy.’

That’s what she said. She’s gonna leave. Y/N’s gonna leave because I pushed her away. I tore them apart. 

“Why the fuck are you making that face?”

‘Don’t tell anyone.’

Shanks froze. The right thing to do would be to tell, wouldn’t it? He’d hurt her, and he needed to fix it. He had to make sure Buggy didn’t lose his star.

But she’d begged him not to tell. After what he did, the thought of going against his promise made him choke. 

Fuck.

“Shanks?“

“Y/N hasn’t seemed okay since I’ve…” Shanks tried. The near violence in those crystal eyes made him want to beg, to take any punishment, anything to get rid of this fucking guilt. 

“What are you saying?”

“I know you know her better than I do,” he continued softly. Weakly. “But I think she’s hurting. I think what we— what I’ve been doing has made her feel…”

He watched helplessly as Buggy’s face changed, his muscles twitching while flashes of anger, horror, and guilt fought for control. 

“Are you saying she’s gonna leave with him,” the clown whispered, desperate to snatch the words back from the air, as if they alone would make it true. 

Yet the memory of Y/N’s tears dragged the clown too deep, drowning him in fear and shame.

“Are you saying my star's gonna leave because I hurt her,” Buggy breathed, every memory of Shanks touching him in front of her turning to acid now. 

Y/N had kept smiling for him.

Until Mihawk had taken her away. 

I didn’t care. I just kept thinking about Shanks. I used her for him. I ignored her, even when we…

He felt sick.

“I treated her like she was just a joke!”

“Buggy, I—“

Shanks had expected violence, almost craved it, when Buggy grabbed his cloak. Instead, his tortured friend pulled him close, gloved hands trembling against him.

“Help me!"

“Of course,” Shanks promised, hating his greedy urge to kiss that look of pain off of the clown’s face. “I’ll fix this. I’ll make sure she—“

“I can’t lose her,” Buggy murmured, releasing the red haired pirate from his grasp. “Please—“

“I swear. I will do everything in my power to fix what I… I’m so sorry, Buggy.”

The clown stepped back, aching to scream, to rage against the man in front of him, but his own fear and guilt held him back. He needed Shanks. He tried not to think about how much. 

I need Y/N. I need my star.

“It wasn’t just you,” Buggy admitted, opening the dressing room door for his old friend. His old world.

He’s not my only world anymore.

“I’ll fix this,” Shanks breathed, squeezing Buggy’s hand. There were so many more words he wanted to say, but they were running out of time. Selfish words that he had always meant to say, but he knew he didn’t deserve them now. 

Energy flooded his veins as he left Buggy backstage again, this time with his vow holding him steady.

I’ll fix this.

~~~

Please don’t go, star. I’ll do anything. 

Buggy panicked, every moment of pain on her face replaying in his mind like his own perfect torture. 

“I’m a fucking IDIOT! Such a piece of shit! I knew it! I knew I was hurting her, and now she’s gonna…”

Buggy didn’t wait for his feet to catch up while he flew toward the vanity. He dumped out the drawers, tossing everything behind him. All of the colorful contents were scattered across the plush carpet, glitter and greasepaint like fresh wounds left to fester and scar. 

“I can’t let you leave. You’re everything, star. Just talk to me, baby. I’ll listen. You’re not a joke to me, never a joke.”

Buggy tore his dressing room apart, vowing to keep tears from touching her beautiful eyes ever again. 

 

~~~🔴🤡🔴🤡~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🤡🤡🤡⏰~~~

 

Buggy was whistling and skipping back to the docks, carrying a smug smile, and very full pockets. The citizens of this island were friendly to street performers, and he’d spent the day being showered with berry and praise instead of scouting for good pickpocketing spots.

Although he had snagged a rather nice watch during one of his sleight of hand tricks. 

He’d even heard stories about another performer that had just left town to head up the coast, and he was hoping they could stay here long enough for him to go see for himself. 

Buggy had always wanted to see a lion tamer’s act up close.

The tavern was fancier than their usual spots, and Buggy had to stop himself from floating when he spotted it down the road. He didn’t want to spook the friendly locals. 

I’ve got enough berry for some good drinks tonight.

The memory of Shanks grimacing at the taste of all the sweet cocktails he’d forced him to try had Buggy chewing on the inside of his lip, fighting a cheesy smile when he stepped into the pleasantly dim tavern. The booths had high, decorated partitions between them, each lit with their own small lanterns. Most of the crew had been taking up the tables in the middle during their stay, but the place was nearly empty besides a couple of residents. 

Buggy caught a glimpse of a sandled foot poking out from one of the booths, and couldn’t resist the urge to sneak up on his red haired friend. 

Not friend. Boyfriend.

Still not used to that word, Buggy moved closer, silent as he could be. 

“Captain, we need to talk about the clown.”

“Buggy’s good, Benn! There’s nothing to talk about.”

The clown froze for a moment before ducking into the booth behind the captain and his first mate. 

It felt wrong. He knew it was wrong, but his heart was stuck in his throat, anxiety rippling under his skin. He clenched his fists, listening.

“You’re not kids anymore. It’s been two years.”

“I know how aging works, old man,” Shanks teased, taking a large swig of his drink, the mug sounding too light when he set it down. 

“You’re a captain, Shanks,” Benn sighed, the pressure in his voice turning Buggy’s stomach. “You need to command respect. Buggy isn’t a member of the crew. He argues with you in front of everyone, even enemies—“

“We’re just playing arou—“ 

“You’re not children,” Benn scolded, his voice going soft quickly after that harsh tone. “A captain needs to be taken seriously. He has to show you respect, Shanks. You need to stop pretending that he’s not a member of the crew just to protect your boyfriend’s feelings.”

Nausea tore through Buggy, humiliation flooding in along with every memory he had with Shanks’ crew. 

They all think I’m pathetic. Just a joke. Just Shanks’— 

“Okay, Benn. I hear you, alright,” Shanks conceded, releasing a heavy breath. Buggy felt a gentle thud against the thin wall between them, as though Shanks had tilted his head back to rest against the wood. 

“I’ll talk to him about it. I just don’t wanna force him,” Shanks paused, and Buggy’s heart paused along with him. “I know it seems silly to pretend for so long, but I want him to be happy.”

“It’s alright, Captain,” Benn soothed, huffing a laugh. “I guess it’s hard not to act silly around a silly clown.”

Buggy was going to be sick. 

“Hey now, Buggy’s not just a silly clown,” Shanks chuckled, his voice piercing right through Buggy’s unpierceable heart. “He’s my silly clown.”

 

~~~⏰🤡🤡🤡⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🔴🤡⏰~~~

 

Just a joke. I’m always just a fucking joke.

Buggy didn’t know what he was packing. He didn’t seem to be packing at all, since everything in their cabin carried stupid memories.

Not our cabin. It’s the captain’s cabin. Just the Captain, and his silly clown. 

“Fuck!”

The clown berated himself silently, hating the thought of the crew hearing his pathetic cries, and judging him even more. He swallowed the lump in his throat while he tried to focus on packing, but he got too focused, letting out a yelp when the door opened, and his least favorite red head stepped in with worry on his face.

“Hey, Bugs,” Shanks started, icy fear pouring through his veins at the sight of that half full bag of clothes on the bed. “What’s going on, baby?”

“Baby,” Buggy seethed, unable to hold it in. “Don’t you mean, ‘your silly clown?’ That’s what everyone thinks I am, right?”

Shanks felt his stomach drop, like he was standing at the edge of a cliff. Buggy hadn’t looked this angry since…

“Buggy, please,” he reached out, his boyfriend’s body floating away too fast for him to touch. “It was just a joke.”

Fuck. Why did I say that?

“Just a joke, just like me, huh,” Buggy laughed, sharp and wrong. “Buggy’s just a clown, so silly, so useless! All I’m good for is being YOURS, and I can’t even do that right!”

“No, Bugs,” Shanks begged, his body glued to the spot while he tried to wake up. “It’s nothing, okay? You know Benn, he can be so serious. Don’t let it—“

“Don’t tell me what to do,” the clown spat, stuffing more random items into his bag. “I’m not a member of your crew. I wasn’t pretending about that. What else were you pretending, baby? Was everything a fucking joke to you?”

“Fuck, no! Buggy, please stop,” Shanks pleaded with stinging eyes as he tried to pull the bag away, floating hands dragging it to the corner of the ceiling. “It’s not a big deal, okay? I promise, it doesn’t matter to me. I don’t care what anyone else thinks!”

Buggy felt too many things at once. His body ached to collapse to the floor, to weep, to apologize for being such a stupid piece of shit. He wanted to beg Shanks to forgive him, to let him stay forever.

He wanted to scream, and rage, and tear this whole fucking ship down. To make everyone that thought he was a joke burn, to show them how fucking silly he could be.

Anything to kill the suffocating humiliation that crushed him more with every memory, every moment he stayed on this ugly boat. 

Since he couldn’t do any of those things, Buggy kept packing, trying to close the bag while he ignored the worthless tears ruining his makeup. 

Soft brown eyes trapped him then. Shanks finally caught him by the shoulders, his face blotchy with panic while he begged.

“Bugs, please! Baby, just listen.”

“I will,” Buggy threatened, pulling the rest of his body back together while he shook off Shanks’ hold. “Seems like captains only listen to their first mates, so I’m gonna go find mine.”

“Please, don’t leave me again.”

The clown shouldered past the red haired pirate, but his gloved hand hesitated on the doorknob. He almost stopped. He almost stayed. 

Until it all slammed into him again. 

“You think I’m a fucking joke—“

“Buggy, I never—“

“Don’t underestimate me, Red Hair. Next time we meet, we’re enemies.”

Buggy didn’t turn back, didn’t wait, didn’t think. He just left that boat, setting off to find his first mate. 

He fought every memory, every thought, every burning ache in his chest while he floated along, his feet running behind him in the sand. 

All he could think about was his future. 

Fuck all of them! It’s my time to shine.

Shanks watched his clown leave again. He wanted to scream his name, to run after him, but he couldn’t move.

Couldn’t feel anything but the weight of unsaid words.

None of those other words matter, Buggy. Why didn’t you listen to me?

Why did you leave over a few stupid words? You have to know…

As that blue hair finally floated out of sight, fear won out over everything else at the thought of Buggy all alone out there, yet it planted a disgusting hope inside his heart. 

Shanks let himself look at that twisted hope for just a moment before shoving it down, along with as much of this pain as he could manage.

You’ll come back. I’m here for you, Bugs. Always. You’ll be back. 

I’ll protect you from this cruel world.

 

~~~⏰🔴🤡⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🤡🔴🤡~~~

 

Buggy was glowing on that stage, and Shanks had to bring himself back. Remember his mission. 

It’ll be my fault if she leaves, and has to suffer out there all alone. I should have been careful. I should have listened. 

If I’d listened back then, Buggy would have stayed with me. He wouldn’t have gone off all alone, and ended up with these monsters. It’s my fault he’s…

Buggy couldn’t let Y/N leave. Little pieces of her were shining behind her eyes again tonight, spurring him on. He needed to listen to her, to make sure she knew he loved her. 

Guilt and worry tried to take over, but the spotlight always healed all wounds. Even the fears he had about his “executives” seemed like nothing now, and their strange, small smiles felt almost soothing whenever they caught eyes. 

“Care to lend me a hand with the party favors, Mr. President?”

Buggy didn’t look at Shanks when he dropped the papers on his table, grinning at Cedrick Sylvad instead. The red haired emperor snatched up one of the mock posters to have something to think about besides his own guilt, only to be reminded of the ugliness that was happening here. 

Distaste and disgust were followed quickly by shame. He’d known what his lovers were up to. 

I’m being a hypocrite again, aren’t I? 

Buggy felt on fire on stage with Crocodile, the feeling of playing the crowd like this had him high, even with everything else going on. Yet he still had to fight to keep his eyes away from that red haired pirate, pretending his old friend was just a guest, even though he was dying to see the look on Shanks' face while he performed. It had always been one of his favorite sights. 

For a split second after Crocodile called for the real party favor, Buggy worried about what Y/N would think, but he shook it off with ease.

My girl’s so smart. She knows who I am, and she loves me anyway. I’ll show her I love her too.

The bound and gagged marine was dripping blood onto the stage. Shanks couldn’t stop himself from glancing back toward his golden eyed lover, still seated at the head table. “The Marine Hunter” scowled down at the stage over his glass of wine, and Shanks looked away quickly before Cedrick could catch him looking toward his niece.

They're gonna execute an unarmed man. This is wrong. I can’t let Buggy…

He hated every piece of himself that felt like he was right. 

Red Haired Shanks’ beliefs had crashed down around him, and his mind was scrambling to build things back up, to figure out what he truly valued, and what had only fed his ego. 

How many marines have I killed? Can I really judge them? Am I just trying to feel superior? 

Even if it’s wrong, I’m the one that hurt Buggy. He wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t pushed him away. 

Or maybe this cursed island has turned me into a monster too...

Questions, justifications, and doubts stormed within him, leaving nothing but acceptance, since he didn’t have enough time for this existential crisis.

Nothing else matters. I can’t let Buggy lose her.

“Guess it's time for the finale,” Crocodile smirked, holding his hook to the marine’s throat.

Shanks looked away from the unarmed man, selfishly choosing to enjoy the sight of his beautiful clown for as long as he could. 

 

~~~🔴🤡🔴🤡~~~

~~~~~~

 

Pride warmed your chest when you saw the way your little smile affected the villain on the stage. Crocodile was about to kill someone in front of you, and it should have felt horrible, terrifying. You weren’t reveling in it, so that was something, but your lack of reaction proved that you were either a monster, or you were crazy.

Probably both.

You managed to turn your sick laugh into a polite cough, although Mihawk still turned to you with something almost like fear in those deadly eyes. Shaking your head, you held your breath at the sound of vultures hissing for their next meal.

“Let’s hear what he has to say for himself!”

“Think he’ll apologize for being such a nuisance?”

“Ooh, I’ve always wanted to hear someone’s last words!”

“Why not,” Crocodile shrugged, using his hook to tear the gag from the marine’s mouth.

Buggy stepped closer to the wheel to squeeze the man’s cheeks, blood and drool dripping down from snarling lips. 

“Time for your fifteen minutes of fame,” Buggy announced, leaving his hands to hold the struggling man’s face toward the crowd while he stepped away to show him off. He smirked at the leeches, winking while he gave a mock whisper. “If he lasts that long, anyway.”

The disgust you felt for the guests' bloodlust didn’t carry over to you or your lovers. You loved watching Buggy play them so well. 

Even if the unlucky man had to die.

“Captain Tront, Mr. Extra Special Party Favor! Got any last words for us,” Buggy called out, nodding toward the band for a drum roll to start while the marine spit more blood onto the floor. 

“You think you’ll get away with this,” he choked out, eyeing the esteemed guests. “You’re risking all your wealth, your reputations, on these freaks?”

Buggy and Crocodile chuckled, and the laughter spread through the hall as the vultures watched the desperate man fall apart. 

“You’ll regret this! You’ll all regret throwing yourselves in with these pirate scum! The Cross Guild, and their overpriced whore–”

Little gasps and screams filled the air, just like when the performers had shown off their dangerous acts. Some nervous laughter bubbled up, until applause built, quiet at first, but soon there were leeches on their feet, cheering for your deadly lovers. 

Captain Tront’s lifeless body slumped in his restraints, bright red blood spilling like a fresh coat of paint for the wheel. Buggy had gotten the man first, his floating hands snapping the marine’s neck just before Crocodile’s hook tore out his throat. 

You’d known that they were going to kill this man, but this was different. 

They had killed this man for you. 

Crocodile nodded toward you, and you realized that you weren’t at all surprised by his swift violence.  

Yet, your sweet, lovely clown had snapped that man’s neck in an instant, just for insulting you. That sweet, lovely clown should have been lost in the applause, the spotlight, the praise, but he didn’t seem to notice any of it.

Buggy beamed at you as though you were his standing ovation, his spotlight, his thunderous applause. This wicked, dangerous clown that just murdered a man was smiling at you while the blood was still warm and spreading across the stage.

You smiled back.

 

~~~~~~

Notes:

Writing this one was extra special to me. I hope that I did Shuggy justice, and that you enjoyed this chapter! I'm including a little Shuggy flashback age timeline below, but first I wanted to give an EXTRA SPECIAL THANK YOU TO YOU!!!!!

I have been so blessed to have such an incredible group of people reading and interacting with my work. You have all helped me get through a difficult chapter of my life with all of your positivity, encouragement, and humor, but there's even more!

Y'all are helping me become a better writer, and I will be eternally grateful. This is something I always wanted to do, but never got the motivation to. I've received so much encouragement during the six months that I've been writing fics, but these last couple of months in the Numbers Game comments here on Ao3 have been magical. You have been cheerleaders, muses, and the best beta readers I could dream of.

I don't think I can explain the gift you gave me by encouraging me to step out of my comfort zone, and write the story that I wanted to write instead of just what I thought "smutty reader insert fic" reader's would enjoy. It has been so freeing, and this story means the world to me.

These past few weeks are the first time that I've truly felt confident in my writing (STILL NERVOUS THOUGH, lol).

Thank you, thank you, so so much!!! If I could, I'd invite you all to a big ol' party, and try real hard to find some sexy villains to join us! 🐊🤡🗡

~~~

 

Shuggy Flashback Timeline:
(Shanks and Buggy are adorably the same age)

 

- Roger's Execution ~ (age 15)
- First time meeting after the execution, and Buggy starts sailing with the Red Hair Pirates ~ (age 19)
- Flashback smut from Chapter 23 ~ (between 19-21)
- Breakup, and Buggy leaving the Red Hair Pirates to start his own crew ~ (age 21)
- Present Day ~ (age 39)

~~~

EXTRAS:
Tumblr Links to the Author's Vision of the Party Attire ~ Reader ~ The Boys

Ongoing Series Playlist ~ YouTube Music Link ~ YouTube Link

Chapter 27: I’ve Got You

Summary:

Cedrick Sylvad joins the Cross Guild for an after dinner drink after you watch your sweet, lovely clown murder a man for you.

Notes:

I hope it doesn't cause any confusion, but I'm going to adjust the readers POV symbols to match everyone else's (it's been driving me crazy, lol). I didn't know I was going to be doing all this POV switching when I started, so from now on each section marked with ~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~ will be the reader's current POV, and reader's flashbacks will be marked with ~~~⏰🌲🌲🌲⏰~~~ I will eventually edit the previous chapters for consistency, but I'm too busy writing right now! 🥰

 

Alternate POV Symbols:
🌲 ~ Reader | 🐊 ~ Crocodile | 🗡 ~ Mihawk | 🤡 ~ Buggy | 🔴 ~ Shanks | ⏰ ~ Flashbacks for listed POV | ⚫ ~ Scenes depicting Dark Content as listed in Author's Notes

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

 

No thought. No hesitation.

Instinct. The clown’s hands had already been gripping the man’s face, forcing him to look toward the crowd of leeches.

“...The Cross Guild, and their overpriced whore–”

Killing had never been that fucking satisfying. The sound of that neck snapping felt like some grand bell, ringing just for her. 

There she was. 

My girl. My star. You know I love you, don’t you?

Y/N stared down, beautiful eyes held wide as she scanned that dead piece of shit’s body before returning to his gaze, his smile. 

She smiled back.

Buggy drank her in, feeling as though he could stay there forever, sustained, sated, safe. The world was quiet and warm, soft and secret, just for them.

My shining star really does love me.

Her smile deepened, so cute he felt he might faint when she started to chew on her bottom lip. 

What a feeling.

 

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🤡🤡🤡⏰~~~

 

“New Giant Warriors?’ More like New Giant Pains in my Ass!”

“You said it, boss!”

Buggy sighed, feeling stress building into a pressure between his brows. 

“Go grab another bottle,” he ordered, shooing his henchman away from the booth before he gave in to the urge to start yelling. 

This tavern is way too fucking snooty for that. Pricey as shit too.

“I’m sorry to intrude, sir, but I couldn’t help but overhear about your business concerns. I’d like to offer my services as a financial advisor, if you’re open to–”  

“Excuse me? Oh, uh… What?”

Buggy gawked at the gorgeous woman that had just said so many strange words, her professional attire, and polite smile making him itch. His eyes darted around, not seeing any groups she could have been with that might have dared her to talk to the pirate clown. 

“My name is Y/N, and I’d love to sit for an interview. If I may take up some more of your time, Captain Buggy, sir?”

Buggy nodded, forcing his mouth to close while she took his crew member’s seat. He sat up a little straighter, tugging at his striped vest as if it would make him look any less of a mess than he was.

“Here, Captain–” 

“Bring a fresh glass, then scram.”

~~~

Buggy couldn’t understand her con. She wasn’t asking for money out the gate. Somehow, this stunning woman almost managed to bore him with her numbers rant. Her method of persuasion was nowhere near flashy enough to swindle him, if anyone. 

Might work on nerds.

He hadn’t meant to snort, giving an awkward smile when Y/N stopped talking about diversification long enough to chew on her lip, staring into her empty glass. She’d downed her first drink too fast, and nodded at Buggy’s offer for a refill. 

“I’d be happy to provide a list of ref—“

“Why are you doing this?”

She’s so pretty. Too pretty. 

“I’m sorry?”

Buggy took a breath, trying not to take his shit out on this random woman at a tavern, but if she was fucking with him…

“I mean, why are you talking to me? Really?”

He needed to stop looking at her. She got cuter and cuter with every little expression that danced across her features.

“I’d like to be your financial advisor, and provide support as you grow Buggy’s Delivery—“

“Boring.”

Y/N’s lips parted in a shocked smile, before she snared Buggy with the most brutal trap he’d ever come across.

She laughed. 

A surprised sound, almost sharp, as sparks lit up behind her eyes. 

“It is boring, isn’t it?”

The clown shook his head while the stranger devolved into giggles, losing her perfect posture when she slumped against the booth’s cushioned bench. 

“I’m great at my job, Captain Buggy,” Y/N declared after catching her breath. “I want to go with you, and I know that my skills will help your business thrive.”

What a weird girl. 

“I don’t take people on without getting to know them a bit,” Buggy offered tentatively as he topped off his glass. “If you’re gonna join my crew, I need to know what kind of person you are.”

“How can I—“ 

“How about you start by talking about anything besides numbers,” Buggy ordered, knocking lightly on the table in front of her.

“Oh…”

She frowned, and his world seemed to shrink until it wrapped around her, everything else going dark. 

I like the smile better.

“Fine,” the clown gave an exaggerated sigh, slipping a small box out of one of the many hidden pockets of his vest. “Since you like numbers so much, why don’t you help me out with a little trick…”

~~~

“It’s the six of spades,” Y/N chirped, glowing more with every correct prediction as Buggy shuffled the cards, laying out a certain number face up, and face down. He’d let his voice shift for her, that playful, encouraging tone he used to make his marks feel special. 

“Alright, doll, count for me.”

Y/N counted while he laid out the rest of the cards one by one, until she called out “twenty two,” and her hand flew toward him.

She’d reached for the deck, but grabbed his hand instead. The clown was too fast, revealing the six of spades with a satisfied smirk while this beautiful woman gave a flustered apology.

“I’m impressed, numbers girl,” Buggy teased, starting to see the potential for an enjoyable evening the longer Y/N kept gazing at him like that.

Been awhile. Maybe I found another clown freak to play with for a night.

“So, do you accept my offer, Captain Buggy?”

“Yeah, sure,” he nodded, still not getting her kink or her con, but that smile was too much to say no to. “Do you wanna, uh… Would you like to go somewhere a little more private?”

Wait for it…

“I’d love to!”

Y/N had only paused for a second, but her eyes showed a flash of heat, and Buggy couldn’t read any fear or disgust in them.

Gotta be a clown kink.

~~~

Swanky was the only way he could describe this room, and Buggy knew they’d charge him for getting greasepaint on those fancy ass sheets. 

He stopped giving a shit as soon as Y/N kicked off her shoes, ignoring the other luxurious furniture to sit on the edge of the bed.

He tried not to sigh, not to think. 

Just enjoy the beautiful woman that clearly wanted to fuck him right now, no matter what her reasons might be. 

“Did I say you could sit on my bed,” he rasped, enjoying her little gasp when he towered over her, his gloved fingers tilting her chin up to meet his gaze. 

“I-I’m sorry, Captain. I’ll—“

“You’ll tell me exactly what you want me to do to you, numbers girl,” the clown ordered, letting the moment take over. “Captain’s orders.”

Those lovely eyes rolled back. He was gonna make them cross tonight, gonna fuck this little clown fucker dumb. 

“Kiss me, please.”

Why is she looking at me like that? 

Y/N grabbed his hand that still held her chin, tugging softly, asking instead of demanding that he sit beside her. 

There was something about her. Something that made him ignore the alarm bells ringing in his head. 

He gave no resistance, falling into her orbit. She smelled so good as he sat close, watching her face for anything that could snap him out of this. 

What he saw only dragged him deeper.

“I’m so glad I met you tonight, Captain,” Y/N breathed. She placed a gentle hand against his jaw, not seeming to care about the mess while her thumb traced over his colorful mask. 

“Shut up,” Buggy whispered, barely a sound while he stared at her lips, not realizing that he’d already leaned in. 

“Yes, Captain,” Y/N smiled, melting into his kiss. She didn’t flinch or freeze when his nose pressed against her skin. She hadn’t asked him to take it off. 

Her kiss made him dizzy, and the clown had to grab her, pulling her body close as though he’d fly off into space without her to keep him here. 

She didn’t complain about the bitter colors on her tongue, or smearing across her face. She didn’t pull away. 

Little, eager noises left her throat, spilling into his mouth like ambrosia, like a drug, and he fed her with growls, pulling her onto his lap.

This strange girl struggled to feel him, her stuffy clothes bunching up, restricting her eager hips until he finally broke the kiss with a laugh.

“Want some help, dollface?”

“Mhm,” she nodded, breathless while her shaky fingers fought to tear her free.

“I’ve got you,” he promised, stopping her frantic hands. “Before we start, you got a safe—“

“Hopscotch,” she rushed, writhing in his lap, impatience looking way too fucking cute on her. “And I’m on birth control.”

“You really came prepared, didn’t you,” Buggy teased, cutting off her reply by tossing her onto the bed.

His body pulsed at how fucking desperate she seemed to be, gasping and whining while he helped her out of those boring clothes. 

“You’re so beautiful…”

Buggy hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but her body’s reaction made it worth it. 

Finally, there was nothing left but her panties, and the clown could feel himself slipping away, ready to lose himself for just a little while in this woman’s gorgeous body. 

Just for a little while. 

“Oh, fuck. You’re…”

“Please, Captain,” Y/N begged while Buggy teased his fingers around the perfect, dripping pussy he’d just revealed. “I need— oh f-fuuck…”

“Yeah, baby,” he taunted. Buggy had to hold in his own needy noises at how quickly she’d soaked through the fabric, his fingers still gloved while he fucked two of them into her. “Need Captain Buggy to make you scream tonight?”

“Y-yes, Captain.”

“Gonna keep following orders, pretty?”

“Mm, yes, plea—“

“Clean your mess,” Buggy growled, taking his fingers back to rub across her lips, his body thrusting on its own from the eager way she’d taken them in. She licked and sucked, pulling her own taste from the glove while she watched him undo the buckles of his vest with his free hand.

Buggy was caught now, the look in her eyes driving him mad while her dainty fingers started circling her clit.

He tried to pull his hand back, needing to be naked now, to be inside of her right fucking now, but she grabbed his wrist. Sucking his fingers one last time, she bit into the wet fabric, laughing through her teeth while she struggled to pull off his glove.

Alarm bells.

Yet, her laugh did him in.

“Try the dry one, baby,” Buggy chuckled, offering his other hand. “Like this.”

He bit the wet glove, showing her how to do it until they were both laughing, and he almost forgot what they’d been doing.

Y/N hadn't forgotten. She attacked him, palming him through his pants when she couldn’t undo them fast enough. 

“Did I tell you—“

“Sorry, I’m sorry, please,” Y/N breathed. She brought one of his bare hands to her chest, and the pounding of her heart was hypnotizing. Almost as hypnotizing as her next words. 

“Please, fuck me. I need you, Buggy.”

The instinct to fly to pieces so he could hold every part of her down while he took her was so strong, the clown had to clench his teeth, a low whine leaving his throat while he stood to pull off his clothes. 

Being with a clown was one thing. It was rare to find someone that wouldn’t be scared or disgusted by his body splitting apart. 

But gods damn, she’s making it hard to hold together. 

Biting her lip, Y/N gave him big, innocent eyes while she played with herself again. A little flicker of pride went through him at the hungry look she gave when she saw his leaking cock, mouth falling open while she watched him stroke all that precum over his tip, down his shaft.

“Say it again, pretty,” he rasped.

“Fuck me, please. I need you, Buggy.”

“Of course you do,” the Warlord growled, making her gasp when he was suddenly there, spreading her thighs apart to circle his tip around her clit, shoving her little fingers out of the way. Her filthy moan made him forget his rule. 

He always fucked strangers from behind the first time, just in case they made that face. 

Buggy lined himself up, and all he saw on her face was delicious desperation while he forced his way into her warm, perfect cunt. She was too fucking much.

Sweet fingers gripping his skin. Soft, pouting lips. His name, louder, and louder. 

“Oh gods, Buggy!”

“What, baby,” he panted. Buggy couldn’t stop himself, fucking her so deep he thought he’d drown. He pulled one of her legs against him, her foot dangling over his shoulder while she screamed so fucking pretty for him. “What… Gonna come for your captain again?”

“Yes! Buggy, feels so… F-fuck, mm coming, Captain…”

Y/N screamed herself hoarse, those lovely eyes finally crossing before Buggy groaned, laughing at her little tongue hanging out, and her leg, twitching violently against his chest. 

“Mmn, fuck yeah. Flashy girl, taking your captain’s come so… so fucking good, baby.”

Gods, look at her…

Buggy stared down at his strange lover, and they took turns twitching and laughing until he finally pulled out of her, fighting a stupid twinge of regret that it had to end. 

“Here you— shit, I’m sorry,” Buggy cursed. His floating hand had dropped a towel beside her after fetching it from the bathroom without thinking. It froze in the air while he braced for less fun screams to start. 

At least it was good while it lasted.

“Whoa! That’s a devil fruit power, right? I forgot you were supposed to have one,” Y/N asked brightly. She reached out, lacing her fingers with his floating hand. 

Buggy went blank.

She held his hand as their breathing relaxed, smiling softly at him while he forgot that he was supposed to reply. Until she let out a little whine, trying to stretch her leg that was still propped up against his chest.

“Fuck, sorry,” Buggy hurried as he helped her move, taking his hand back so he could wipe them both up. Although she’d need some more thorough cleaning to get rid of the evidence of fucking a clown.

“Do you wanna use the shower before you go?”

“Oh,” Y/N frowned, her sweet eyes fucking with him again. “Do you want me to leave?”

“Well, I—“

“But I can still come with you, right,” she fretted, covering herself with the dirty towel. “Please, I’ll respect your boundaries if you don’t want me like… I will be strictly professional. You won’t find a better pick than me to help you get your finances—“

“You can stay here if you want to,” Buggy offered. He didn’t have the energy for all of those promises and lies, but if she wanted to stay for the night, he’d take it. 

“Okay, Captain!”

Joy seemed to fill her as she kissed him quick, dragging him to the bathroom.

He stayed behind, sending her with just a hand, and her surprised laugh brought a real smile to his lips when she stomped back to convince the rest of his body to join her. 

I think she’s my favorite clown fucker.

Buggy chuckled to himself as they settled into bed, kissing the stranger’s temple when she hummed a question. 

Alarm bells kept ringing, but she was so soft, and warm, and sweet. She let him hold her. The alarm bells got quieter, and Buggy found himself pulled into the best sleep he’d had in a long time.

It’s okay if it’s just tonight. She’s gonna leave, but… right now is nice.

 

~~~⏰🤡🤡🤡⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🌲🌲🌲⏰~~~

 

Wow, he snores. 

You held in your giggle, sighing at how comfortable you felt in this pirate’s arms. 

All of your impulsive decisions of the night were fucking insane, yet you still ached for tomorrow. A naïve hope filled you that maybe, just maybe, if you got on that boat, if you got away, all of these worries and guilty thoughts would disappear. 

I’m tired of this boring life.

Selfish. Entitled.

Yet an adventure with this sweet, funny, beautiful man was too tempting to resist. 

Soft dreams tonight. No storms. No snails. 

You dreamt of playing a game of cards with a pair of floating hands, and you woke with a smile.

 

~~~⏰🌲🌲🌲⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

Buggy.

The need to touch him, to kiss him, almost sent your body into a panic.

“Rabbit, are you— oh…” Mihawk checked in while the applause went on and on. You couldn’t look away from your clown’s glowing smile, his dancing eyes, but you heard Mihawk’s voice change in just those few words. 

Concern. Curiosity. Then something like satisfaction. A little laugh left you when you realized you could practically hear him arching a brow. 

“What do I smell like right now,” you teased, feeling high. Feeling here.

“Mm, you smell like our little rabbit again,” Mihawk purred, touching your knee for just a moment. “Like our sweet girl. Like our pretty star.”

Chills ran over your entire body at those bewitching words, and at the skill with which Buggy wrapped up the show. He managed to bring the crowd down, make them sigh, make them laugh, and make them leave, all while his eyes stayed locked onto yours.

Until he finally looked away, and you followed his line of sight to find what had torn your clown from you.

Red hair rushed out of the room, that Emperor of the Sea not sparing a glance toward the clown on the stage. 

No.

Reality flooded back like crashing waves, destroying the pretty castle of sand you’d become too attached to. 

He promised. He has to take Buggy. Has to make him happy. 

“Rabbit?”

“That was quite the show,” Uncle Cedrick hummed as he made his way to the head table, jerking his head toward the staff that were cleaning the blood from the stage. “Is there somewhere we can retire for our after dinner drink? My ship’s bar has quite the selection of—“

“We have a lounge,” Crocodile interrupted, his husky voice thick with danger. 

“Hi,” Buggy breathed as he appeared beside you.

“That was an amazing show, President Buggy.”

You gave him a fraction of the smile you wanted too, but he nodded, listening to your need for distance. 

Crocodile led the way, and you found yourself walking behind your uncle, feeling a strange need to protect his back while your swordsman and your clown followed close behind.

Would they kill him for me?

That smile on Buggy’s face glowed in your mind, but was drowned out by all the rest. All the old. All the inevitable. 

Soon you were dizzy, familiar halls pulling you into a fog.

“Why are there so many rugs,” you frowned, no longer in your body when you stepped into the lounge. The plush carpet around the couch was covered in a random collection of beautiful, extravagant rugs. The coffee table was gone, leaving nothing between the ridiculous, green couch, and matching chairs. 

“We couldn’t spare any staff to pull up the carpet today,” Mihawk drawled while he floated toward the bar. 

“What happened to the carpet,” Buggy asked, his actual floating hands helping to pass out glasses of wine. 

“Let’s discuss home improvement projects when we’re not hosting guests,” Crocodile warned, staring hard at Uncle Cedrick while he relaxed into one of the chairs. 

“Excellent vintage,” he praised, and part of you almost laughed at the look on Mihawk’s face. 

Then your lovers’ faces all turned to you, frowning when you sat in the chair beside your uncle. 

Buggy took your spot on the couch, his eyes almost losing their shine, until he floated one of the bar stools beside your chair. 

“Thank you, Mr. President,” you coughed, grateful to set your glass down before your shaky hands made a mess on the new rugs. He didn’t bother giving your guest the same courtesy. Buggy just watched you, until you looked down at your fingers, trying not to twist them. 

“How about a toast,” Uncle Cedrick beamed, lifting his glass, his commanding gaze forcing you to look his way. “To my incredible niece, and her esteemed employers. It’s been an honor attending such an impressive event.”

Silence followed, but everyone’s lips tasted wine.

“Why are you here, Mr. Sylvad?”

Buggy’s voice was dark, measured, and frightening when matched with his glinting eyes.

Yet, Uncle Cedrick smiled, chuckling as if his life weren’t one wrong breath away from being ended. You weren’t surprised. 

He feared nothing. He had no reason to. 

“I’m here for Y/N, of course,” he answered, humming while he took another sip. Your uncle radiated ease, as though you were just a normal family enjoying a weekend trip. “It’s time for my dear niece to come home.”

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🤡🤡🤡⏰~~~

 

“Good morning, Captain Buggy!”

What the fuck…

“I ordered us some coffee,” Y/N beamed, pulling on her boring, wrinkled clothes. “I need to head to the office, so I can contact my clients to let them know I’m leaving. Then I just need to grab a couple things from home, and say goodbye to my sister. Should I meet you back here, or—“

“That’s too elaborate,” Buggy yawned as he rolled away from her sunny smile, wanting to go back to his dream where everything stayed nice and warm. “You can just say you changed your mind. Or your grandma died. Or you have amnesia or something. Thanks for a fun night.”

… 

“What?”

That’s some damn good acting.

Buggy rolled back to face her, shocked by the convincing amount of pain on her face to match that quavering voice, one of her shoes dangling, forgotten in her hand. 

“I said it’s alright,” the clown soothed, really hoping he wouldn’t have to hold her fucking hand just so she could stuff her guilt and self pity down long enough to leave. Those people were almost worse than the outright assholes. 

“Please don’t leave without me,” she begged, going to her knees at the edge of the bed, tilting her head to meet his eyes. “Please, Captain Buggy. I swear I… I’m not lying. Please—“

“Fuck it, fine. I’ll wait here today,” he groaned, rubbing his hands over his face while he rolled onto his back. “I’m outta here by five. If you’re fucking with me—“

“Thank you!”

Buggy moaned, the sudden weight of this crazy woman sending him reeling. She let out a needy gasp, as though she hadn’t expected to find the clown so fucking hard when she’d jumped on him.

“Captain!”

“What are you doing?”

“Can I, Captain?”

“Okay, but you… fuuuck, you’re something else. You’re— gods, keep doing that, baby…”

She’s definitely my favorite clown fucker. 

~~~

Buggy waited.

Round and round his thoughts went. Sometimes a spot of hope would shine through, but it was always trampled quickly by well earned doubt, anger, or humiliation. 

Although the memory of her lips kept disrupting his cycle, leaving his face hot while he stared at the table.

Fuck this. Not gonna sit here, and let her make a fool out of…

“Captain Buggy,” she called out, dragging a single suitcase behind her. She gave him a breathless smile, but her eyes were a bit red, with a hint of puffiness. The thought of her crying pushed away all the things he should have cared about.

“Are you okay? You look—“

“Oh, I’m sorry, sir,” Y/N cringed, looking away with a self deprecating laugh. “Goodbyes always get me emotional, but I’m ready to go. When can we leave?”

“Are you insane?”

Buggy hadn’t meant to sound so harsh, sighing at the hurt look in her eyes while he motioned for her to sit. 

“I’m not sure what—“

“You have a fancy job,” he started, struggling to refocus after he spotted a bit of missed paint below her ear. “You’ve got enough berry to drink at this snooty place after work. You’re gorgeous. You’re way too smart…”

The clown trailed off, almost losing his momentum again at the pleased smile his last few words put on her face. 

“You know I’m a fucking pirate, right? A Warlord of the Sea?”

“Of course, sir.”

“You know what Buggy’s Delivery—“

“I’m aware, Captain,” Y/N assured, her voice slipping into professional distance, something almost frightening beneath that even tone. “Mercenaries may be a legal gray area, but I see no issues with a country that doesn’t have an adequate fighting force paying for outside help to protect themselves. I don’t see why soldiers paid for through your service are any different than soldiers paid or forced to fight by their own governments.”

“But they are different,” Buggy grinned, loving the way her eyes lit up at his satisfied chuckle. “Our fighters are better.”

The world shrunk down, wrapping around her once again. She let out a breath, her lips struggling to hold in a smile.

“Does this mean I got the job?”

“We’ll see how the probationary period goes, dollface,” the Warlord teased, floating one of his hands to carry her suitcase while the other helped her out of her seat. 

“We’ll spend most of our time on my island,” he bragged, walking almost too fast for her toward the docks, “but wait ‘til you get a look at my ship! It’s– oh, how are you with boats?”

Her pause made him stop in his tracks, and she walked into him, stumbling before he caught her. Lifting her chin, the captain inspected his new recruit, frowning at how little she seemed to give away.

“Have you never been on a boat, or are you afraid of boats?”

“I…”

“Boat’s are pretty much a requirement to being a fucking pirate, numbers girl. I’m not gonna—“

“I know how to sail. I just got scared for a while after a storm,” she let out, fire building in her eyes. “But I didn’t want to be scared. I made myself go out on the water. Boats don’t bother me anymore.”

“Well, I hadn’t planned on making my financial advisor get her hands dirty, but it’s always good to have another sailor aboard.”

Buggy lifted her hand with his free one, floating it up to kiss red across her knuckles. 

Fuck. She’s not gonna stay. This is probably just some stupid, long con. 

Still, I might as well enjoy it while it lasts. 

He could have left it there, meaningless and fun, but the fire in her eyes, and the words she’d declared, kept him rooted.

“What about storms?”

“I’m sorry?”

That soft smile couldn’t cover up all the anger and fear it tried to hide. 

“You’re not afraid of boats anymore, but what about storms?”

Buggy almost turned and left her there, not wanting to bring such a hassle onto his ship, no matter how lovely her lips were. Not if she was too cowardly to tell the truth, or at least to come up with a decent lie. 

“I’m not good with storms,” she breathed, staring up at him like a challenge. Like she wouldn’t let just anyone force her to say something like that. 

“That’s alright, pretty,” Buggy soothed, wrapping his arm around her shoulders while he led her toward the ship. “You’re my flashy financial adviser now. If there’s a storm, you can stay nice and toasty in the cabin while the rest of us do the manual labor. I’ll even put that in writing if you— whoa, hey…”

“I won’t let you down, Captain,” she hummed, hugging him close just as they reached the Big Top. 

“Hey, Captain, who’s your friend,” Mohji called over cheerfully, leading Richie up the ramp to the deck. The lion gave a gentle roar, a sweet greeting to the ears of his crew, but it made Y/N yelp, clinging to him even tighter.

Buggy didn’t think, just laughed while he lifted this strange girl into the air, floating her up to the ship while his feet raced up the long way. 

“Alright, numbers girl,” he rasped, ignoring his need to breathe while he stared at her gorgeous face. “This is your last chance. Want me to leave you on the docks? Or do you wanna have a flashy adventure with the Great Captain Buggy, Warlord of the Sea?”

“No more ‘numbers girl,” she giggled, that perfect sound trapping him again. “I want to be your flashy girl now, Captain.”

“Really,” he purred, losing his mind at all the sweet noises she kept making for him, especially these cute little whines she just started, like she’d already forgotten how to talk.

Y/N made him forget all his rules. Don’t get attached. Don’t like them too much. Don’t fall for the con. 

She’s staying…

Buggy forgot every fucking thing on the planet when she giggled for him again, and it was a miracle that he got her into the cabin before he took her in front of his crew. 

They didn't leave that cabin until they landed at Karai Bari.

Y/N made him greedy for things he’d sworn off hunting for. Buggy was blissfully lost, holding on to her for days, weeks, months, only getting more fucking desperate to enjoy every moment before this sweet lie came to an end. Her laughter, her touch, even the air around her made him high. 

This Warlord of the Sea wasn’t even angry that she was going to leave. He was just grateful for every morning when he woke to find that those words were still true, a comforting mantra that played in his mind while he stole her from the world for another day.

She’s still here.

 

~~~⏰🤡🤡🤡⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

“She’s not going anywhere,” Crocodile growled, resting his arm around Buggy’s shoulders as the clown started hovering out of his seat at your uncle’s announcement. 

“I assure you, gentlemen, I have no intention of forcing her, violently or otherwise. I’m just here to chat,” he purred, arching a brow at you. “You did explain my insurance, did you not? I’d hate for something—“

“Don’t hurt him,” you cut him off, though your voice was empty now, and your eyes couldn’t quite meet any of those on the couch. “If he doesn’t call…”

“Such an honor to speak with someone so well… protected,” Mihawk stepped in, poison dripping in every word. “To have what amounts to your own personal Buster Call is quite the feat.”

“Oh, it’s nothing so outlandish as that,” Uncle Cedrick laughed, brushing the fake compliment away with a wave of his hand. His eyes crawled over you again, and you caught the satisfied smirk he failed to hide. He didn’t need to hide it. “Just friends in high places. One of the perks of our family name.”

Silence. The most painfully awkward silence you’d ever felt. 

“Now, it’s time for you to honor that name, niece. You’ve had your fun.”

“Why do you need her anyway,” the clown spat. His fingers tapped at his knee, until Mihawk rested his hand there. Buggy’s breath calmed a bit as he let his fingers go still over the swordsman’s, but he never looked away from his target. “You already got everything! She’s not the heir, so just leave—“

Uncle Cedrick’s laughter was the smug twist of a key, the cruel sound of your cage being shut and locked forever. 

“Is that what she told you,” he shook his head, still recovering from laughter. Uncle seemed to be having a grand old time stomping all over your sand castle. “I wonder how many more lies my little niece has been feeding you.”

“What are you saying,” Crocodile asked coldly. Braving a glance at his face gave you nothing, those frightening features were closed off to you now. 

“Well, I suppose it’s a good sign that you never trusted these pirates,” he sighed, not noticing the creaks from the couch while three villains refrained from murdering him yet again. 

“Explain,” Mihawk ordered, sharp, deadly. 

Uncle Cedrick threw you a taunting smile.

“Y/N is Arbo Sylvad’s sole heir.”

It’s over.

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🌲🌲🌲⏰~~~

 

“No more Numbers Girl. Y/N is Captain Buggy’s Flashy Girl now,” Buggy mimicked your voice, pulling the notepad and pen from your hands. 

“Buggy,” you groaned, uselessly pulling on his arms to grab for his hands, only for everything to float out of reach. “Please, Bugs. I just want to do my job, baby. I want to help you.”

At first it was sweet. 

“Mm, but you help me everyday,” your clown purred, pulling you closer on that fancy, green couch. “My pretty star, helping me shine…”

Months of this. 

“Buggy, plea— Mm, we need to work on the… fuck…”

Months of your sweet clown not wanting to leave your side for a second.

“What does my flashy girl need to work on,” Buggy teased, starting to kiss along your thighs after kneeling between them. He’d barely touched you, and you were already sighing, eyes already fluttering for him. 

Months of forgetting the world, forgetting everything but each other. 

“Finances, Bugs,” you urged, curling your fingers into his hair to try to make him focus. 

Just listen to me, Buggy.

You’d pulled his hair too hard, and the little moan he let out made your body ache, always hungry for him. 

“Okay, star,” Buggy rasped, eyes going dark. "I promise. We’ll start bright and early tomorrow, and you can tell me all those long words you like.”

“Why tomorrow? We have plenty of—“

“It’s already lunchtime,” he scolded in mock horror. “It’s best to start work like that—“

“It’s not even eleven— Oh gods… Buggy, you promise? Just work tomorrow? Just… mmn, please...”

“I promise,” Buggy beamed, his perfect face shining when he pulled away from your needy cunt long enough to tease you. “I promise I’m gonna make my pretty star laugh, and come, and shine for me every fucking day. Now, is my flashy girl gonna let her captain finish his lunch?”

It was hard to think. You didn’t want to think. You’d never been with someone for this long before. Was it normal to get frustrated with him like this? Was it normal to still melt every time he touched you? 

Nothing about your life felt normal, but this felt like the closest to thing real that you’d ever get. These last few months with Buggy were the brightest your life had been since… He shined so bright, and you wanted to disappear with him into the night sky, lost forever. 

You just wished he would listen, and you wished you could stop giving in every single time.

But then you’d give in, and remember why you couldn’t stop. 

“Please, Bugs.”

“Whatcha need, flashy girl,” the clown teased, pressing little kisses and bites along your thighs.

“I need you, Buggy,” you begged, spreading your legs wide for him as your head fell back. “Need your lips, your tongue, your nose…”

“Oh yeah? Such a small list,” Buggy scolded, his breath moving closer, teasing against all that wetness he’d drawn from you. 

“Captain Buggy.”

It came out in a whine now, and you pouted more when he laughed at your pathetic face. 

“Need your teeth, your hands, your fingers,” you listed, aching for him. The manic look in his eyes while he watched you fall apart for him made you need him more. 

“I need your cock inside me now, Buggy, please.”

“My girl’s so good for me,” he breathed over your core, leaving teasing kisses around where you needed him, until you were twitching, almost sobbing for him. “But don’t rush your captain. I haven’t finished my lunch yet.”

Tomorrow. We’ll work tomorrow.

Tomorrow was too late.

 

~~~⏰🌲🌲🌲⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🤡🤡🤡⏰~~~

 

“It’s true, Y/N,” Mihawk let out, that dangerous voice sharp enough to stab through the clown’s pathetic soul. “You have an opportunity to live an interesting life. Don’t disappoint us by lowering yourself for that clown.”

They’re right, baby. 

She didn’t speak, and Buggy ached to float to her, to make sure she was okay, but he was wrecked. Useless. They’d tossed his head behind the couch like a piece of trash, and Crocodile was still using his body as a footrest. 

“Say it, Y/N,” Crocodile commanded her. 

It’s all my fault, star.

“Wh-What…”

The scarred man kicked Buggy again, this time sending his body across the floor. The clown fought to choke them down, but weak, broken noises left his lips, and he broke even further when he heard Y/N gasping for him. She was so close, right there. 

I never should have taken her. I’m an idiot. Selfish. They’re gonna hurt my– 

“Say it.”

“I won’t… I won’t lower myself for that clown.”

Good. I never deserved you, star. Why didn’t I listen to you?

Now he listened.

Crocodile and Mihawk were praising her, but Buggy didn’t hear them. Just the rustle of movement, and Y/N’s strained, desperate breathing. He knew that breathing.

She was trying so hard.

I’m not worth it, baby. Just an idiot. Can’t believe I actually thought… No. It was stupid.

You could never love me. 

I’ll never be anything but a fucking joke.

 

~~~⏰🤡🤡🤡⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Buggy denied. You wanted to grab him, to run away right now, before any more of your shame could crawl into the light.

“If Y/N is the sole heir, then why are you holding the reins?” 

Mihawk held his wineglass a little closer, as though he were protecting his precious red from hearing such a sordid tale.

You coughed another sick laugh, shaking your head toward the floor. 

“My benevolent brother doted on your young CFO here,” Uncle Cedrick began, relaxing into the chair. He always loved to hear himself talk. 

“I wanna hear it from you,” Crocodile ordered. Unreadable silver eyes gutted you like his hook just might if he didn’t like your story. 

Why did you curse me, dad? 

You had never wanted your story to be different more than you did right now.

“Uncle Cedrick is standing in. I won't become the heir until… Until I decide I’m ready.”

“What does that mean,” he rasped, patting his jacket for cigars that didn’t seem to be there. 

“It means…”

What’s the point? It’s done now. 

“What my niece means to say is that instead of honoring her father’s last wish, fulfilling her responsibilities, and accepting the family wealth, Y/N decided that she would rather live a ‘boring’ life,” Uncle Cedrick gave a patronizing laugh. “Sylvad’s heiress would rather work at a bank. It boggles the mind, honestly.”

“Miss Y/N is free to make her own choices,” Mihawk threatened, finally setting his comfort wine aside.

“But of course,” your uncle conceded the point, waving his hand before turning to you again. “If only my dear brother hadn’t been so cruel, although maybe not as cruel as my niece.”

“What the fuck are you talking about,” Buggy growled.

“Get to the point, Sylvad,” Crocodile warned, rubbing that large hand over the clown’s shoulders. 

“Arbo decided to give Y/N everything, including the decision of whether or not to release her mother and sister’s rightful inheritance, but only when she takes up her role,” he tutted, sipping his wine while his eyes sparkled at you. “Who knows what drove my brother to such a heartless choice. Although it’s possible that he wasn’t aware of how selfish his favorite little daughter could be.”

“Don’t,” you breathed, all of your villains tilting forward. 

“Your insurance may be effective, Sylvad,” Mihawk threatened, predator eyes focused on his prey. “However, accidents can still occur. Mind your fucking tongue.”

“My apologies,” he laughed. Everything was easy, everything was always working out for him. “You’re right, of course. I shouldn’t be airing our family’s dirty laundry in front of my gracious hosts.”

“Is that it?”

Buggy laughed, chaotic and perfect, and it made you forget for just a moment. 

“You feel bad for not making your mom and sister stupid rich? Well, boo fuckin’ hoo,” he mocked, his fake crying face pulling a small, strangled laugh from your throat. “That’s not your fucking job!”

My sweet, lovely clown.

A sigh moved through you, and you let your body relax, let your eyes drift closed. 

Pretending. 

“I suppose you’re right,” that needling voice went on, narrowing in on you again. “You’ve spent all these years avoiding your responsibilities as heir, but at least you were safe.”

“Miss Y/N is safe with us.”

Crocodile’s rough voice pulled your eyes open, and you found the three of them watching you, eyes softer than they should be. You shivered, until Uncle Cedrick made you freeze. 

“That may be so, but it’s been months since you ran away. Kat’s been worried sick about you, Y/N. Dr. Vorsan’s been doing what he can to help, but you can’t blame her for being scared for her sister.”

He tilted his head toward you, catching your eyes while practiced compassion took over his features. 

“Dr. Vorsan is concerned for you too, niece. Your decisions have—“

“Who’s this doctor,” Crocodile questioned.

Your world went dull. 

“Keeping more secrets, niece? Well, I suppose that’s to be expected from such a troubled mind.” 

“Your mind’s about to be fucking troubled you fucking—“

“Please,” your whimpered plea made the clown go still.

“Star?”

“It’s a shame, really,” your uncle explained. “It only makes sense, of course. After the tragedy of her father’s death, and that little incident with the snail…”

No. 

“Dr. Vorsan always warned us there’d be lifelong effects from that sort of trauma, especially on someone so young.”

Stop. 

You wanted to pretend one last time. To see their eyes before they changed. Now you couldn’t look away.

Just a little bit longer. 

Uncle Cedrick lost his somber tone, looking down the couch while he complained until he landed on Crocodile. 

“I suppose it could be worse. The doctor said we’d be lucky if promiscuity was her worst flaw. You know what they say about girls with daddy issues—“

“STOP!!!”

Crocodile’s eyes had been wide with rage, but now he was shaking. The point of his hook was a hair’s breadth away from your skin after you’d leapt between him and his prey. Mihawk and Buggy had joined him when he lunged toward Uncle Cedrick, but now they pulled him back, breaking the scarred man out of his frozen moment.

“Sweetheart… I’m so sorry.”

“I’m leaving.”

Such a small sentence, and your voice was so quiet, yet the eruption it caused was overwhelming. These three, powerful men looked panicked, all speaking at once while they beseeched you, begged for you to not mean those two little words.

“What? No, star, you don’t need to—“

“Darling, we’re here. Whatever you need—“

“Please, sweet girl, let us help—“

“Wonderful! I knew you’d see reason.” Uncle Cedrick clapped a hand on his knee before standing, already making his way out of the room. 

“You were always so smart, Y/N. I’ll meet you in the foyer, so you can say your little goodbyes. Thank you, gentlemen—“

“Get out!”

The door closed, and Crocodile’s face fell, regret following his newest show of rage. 

“Baby, you’re not going.”

“I'm done pretending. I’m going home,” you declared, pulling away from Buggy’s touch, fighting not to meet those beautiful eyes. 

“Sweetheart, please,” Crocodile begged, going to his knees. Those large fingers cradled your face, and you had to meet his gaze. “I’m so sorry, I’ll be better. I’ll protect you. I love you, Y/N. Let me help—“

“I told you what I want, Crocodile. I’ll never forgive you if you make me your prisoner again.”

You’d hurt this frightening man. This ex-Warlord of the Sea. His name on your lips made his face crumple, made something break. 

Sick laughter almost rolled off your tongue at the thought of how few people could claim that they had hurt this terrifying, secretly soft man. 

“Rabbit,” Mihawk breathed, pulling you aside. His wicked fingers danced over your hair, trailing down to trace soothing lines along the sides of your face until you almost sighed. 

“Please don’t leave, darling,” the swordsman rasped, those predator's eyes going desperate while he scanned your features. “I'll do anything. I love you, rabbit. I need—“

“Thanks for pretending,” you forced out as you tore yourself free, looking away before you could see how your words would affect this untouchable man. “It was fun, but I'm done playing. I hope you find a new toy soon.”

Your foot caught on that pile of fancy rugs when you ran toward the door, but Buggy was there. His upper body lifted you high, his sweet smile almost making you forget. He was always so good at making you forget the world.

“Put me down.”

“I don’t believe you,” Buggy whispered, setting you on your feet, and squeezing your cheeks together before you shook him off. 

“I don’t—“

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen before, star. I should have—“

“I’m leaving. I want to go.”

“You’re not saying anything mean to me,” the clown teased, a crooked smirk catching your breath. “You can’t, huh? I knew it. I knew I was never a joke to you, baby.”

“I want to go…”

“I’ll listen this time, star,” he promised, kneeling so he could gaze up at you with that manic love in his eyes. “I think you wanna stay. The only way I’ll believe that you want us to let you go is if you promise me something.”

He started searching his silly red outfit for hidden pockets, pulling out his item with a magician’s flourish. You were shaking while you watched him, your feet wobbling in those pretty shoes that had barely managed to stay on when you tripped. 

“What’d ya think, dollface?”

Hypnotizing. 

A silver, oval locket, almost the length of your palm, swung back and forth in front of your eyes until he placed it into your hand. 

Etched onto the metal was a ship sailing under a night sky. A smattering of stars floated above the scene, but one star stood out with a halo of rays spreading wide, gorgeous details showing that this was the one. 

And that little ship was pointed straight toward it, guided by its shining star. 

“I wanted to give it to you a while ago, but I didn’t think— well, you know.”

He nodded toward the wounded villains who’d both gone to their knees now, while his lips still trapped you with that sweet, mischievous smile.

“Anyway... I love you, Y/N. You’re my shining star,” the clown confessed, gripping your arms while you tried not to fall to the floor. “I’m never gonna believe that you don’t love me back. If you really want me to let you go, you gotta promise you’ll keep me close to your heart, baby. Tell me you’ll always keep a piece of me with you.”

His hands floated up, fastening that long chain around your neck before pressing the heavy locket against your heart. 

“Stay. Or promise you’ll keep me here forever. I’m not letting you leave if you—“

“I promise,” you choked out, grabbing the gloved hand that held the locket. 

“My flashy girl,” he winked. Your sweet, lovely clown. “I’m gonna miss you, baby.”

If I cry, I won’t leave.

Nodding. Swallowing. Shaking.

Walking away.

Not looking back. 

~~~

Your mind hovered above your body, thankfully numbing the pain of leaving this strange place you’d almost thought of as home. 

Numb was good. Numb was better. 

Numb got you through Uncle Cedrick’s gloating long enough to request to retire to your own quarters, but privacy gave your body permission to feel, no matter how hard you tried to resist.

No.

Need to be numb.

Alone on a luxurious bed in a beautiful dress, you ached for emptiness. For drugs, for pain. That thought made you sob, the sound strangled while you fought to stuff it all down deep. 

It’s just for daydreams now. Just daydreams.

You should have left the locket there. Or thrown it into the sea. It would only make it hurt worse.

Struggling with the seam, you found a key hole, and let out a pathetic laugh. It would have been nice to see his face again. Yet something else caught your eye, something tiny etched onto the back. 

6♠️

“I’m sorry, Buggy,” you cried, slow, painful tears finally escaping. “I’m so sorry.”

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🐊🤡🗡️~~~

 

Crocodile never felt helpless. Yet she had left him on his knees.

He couldn’t pick himself back up. 

Mihawk had let himself feel a new range of emotions these last few days. Explored them, fought them, accepted them. 

Now he hated them. 

Though not as much as he hated himself. 

Buggy sat on the ground between his old torturers, ruining another pair of gloves when he rested his head in his hands. 

“What the fuck are you all doing?”

 

~~~🐊🤡🗡️~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🐊🤡🔴🗡️~~~

 

Shanks had practically fled the banquet hall, and guilt followed close behind. Guilt that he didn’t care about the man that had died strung up like a prize at a circus. 

All he cared about was Buggy. 

And Y/N.

“What’s wrong with you,” he panicked, the sight of the Cross Guild in silent agony across the floor sending him reeling. He marched toward Mihawk first, pulling the man up by a shoulder of his fancy coat. The swordsman didn’t even cringe at the rough treatment to that exquisite fabric.

“I just watched her follow that asshole to the docks! Why didn’t you stop her?”

“Can’t force her,” Crocodile rasped as he slumped to the side, sounding like he was speaking to himself.

“She didn’t…” Mihawk trailed off, leaving Shanks horrified while he watched his old friend, his powerful lover, disappear inside himself. 

“Let’s go get her,” the red haired pirate demanded, slapping Mihawk hard enough to make those golden eyes flare. “Sylvad doesn’t know I’m your friend. He wants to have a friendly chat with an Emperor of the Sea.”

Shanks pulled out the card, the man’s overwhelming cologne wafting along with it.

“We can take the Red Force, alright? We’ll get her—“

“We can’t,” Mihawk pushed Shanks back, aching for more violence. “She wanted to go. I can’t do that to her again. Can’t—“

“You don’t need to be sorry, star…”

“Bugs,” Shanks asked, fear gripping him when he went to his murmuring clown. Buggy had a finger stuffed into one of his ears, and a bittersweet smile playing on his lips. 

“Charmed the sea beast, huh? I knew you could, shit head.”

“What's going on, Buggy,” Crocodile asked, voice tired, almost done. Mihawk moved closer, touching a hand to the larger man’s arm. They both closed their eyes for a moment before studying their manic clown. 

“She’s smart,” Buggy yelled, his brief optimism replaced by vicious determination as the sounds in his head grew louder. “Y/N didn’t wanna leave with that asshole! And she knew exactly what to say to make all of us do what she wanted. Not to mention how scared she was of that mini Buster Call bullshit. She’s…”

“You’re right,” Crocodile rasped, clenching that large fist, but trying not to slam it into anything. He’d broken too many things already. 

“We still can’t force her,” Mihawk breathed, replaying every word she’d spat at him. 

“There’s something else going on...” Buggy shook, his body going to pieces to pace and float in front of this strange mix of his old enemies and lovers. “Y/N’s smart. There’s gotta be a reason. Once I know what it is, we’ll go help her. I'm gonna make it stop.”

“What do you mean,” Shanks asked, grimacing when those particular words left his lips. 

“I mean, she’s CRYING!!”

Buggy couldn’t take any more of it, screaming with useless fury while he thrashed around the room. There was no way for the other men to grab hold of him, or to stop him without hurting him. They called his name, letting him rage until he brought his body together to collapse onto that green, velvet couch.

His three, dangerous lovers knelt in front of him with concerned eyes, their gentle hands trying to soothe.

Shanks pulled that extravagant hat off of Buggy’s head to brush blue hair from the clown’s face.

“Buggy, you’re missing an ear.”

“Not missing,” Buggy choked, those faraway sounds like seawater drowning his heart. 

“Listening.”

 

~~~🐊🤡🔴🗡️~~~

Notes:

Remember when everyone thought I hated Buggy?? 🤡💙😭

Chapter 28: Just Daydreams Now

Summary:

You spend the morning with Uncle Cedrick while Buggy listens in. The rest of your lovers aren't used to feeling helpless.

Notes:

Hi! I've been nervous to give more backstory since we're all here for our big baddies, but I hope you enjoy learning a bit more about our Numbers Girl! 🌲✨

 

Alternate POV Symbols:
🌲 ~ Reader | 🐊 ~ Crocodile | 🗡 ~ Mihawk | 🤡 ~ Buggy | 🔴 ~ Shanks | ⏰ ~ Flashbacks for listed POV | ⚫ ~ Scenes depicting Dark Content as listed in Author's Notes

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

It’s cold. 

The cold turned cruel the moment you woke, remembering why there were no warm bodies surrounding you. 

That wasn’t real. Just pretend. 

Back to your boring life.

“Good morning, Miss Sylvad,” an unpleasantly cheerful servant greeted you. They'd barged into your quarters after a single, patronizing knock, proceeding to hang a few dresses on the coat rack, fluffing the skirts before eyeing your hair. “Your uncle has requested your presence at breakfast, so I have prepared–”

“I can dress myself.”

Their eyes widened for just a split second, so very good at their job.

Can't manage rich pieces of shit like me if you remind us that you're a real fucking person. 

“Of course, Miss Sylvad, but if I may–”

“You can report that I refused your assistance. I’m sure you’ll have someone waiting in the hall to show me where to go?”

“Yes, Miss Sylvad,” they nodded, brows creasing just enough for you to know they had a thought, but not enough to know what kind. You stared at the door when they left you alone, and almost screamed for them to return, just to have something else to focus on besides the empty bed. Heat climbed up your throat, but the thought of crying more tears after how many you’d drained last night made you want to stop breathing. 

The thought of Uncle Cedrick seeing you cry was enough to pull you in, emptiness radiating from you like twisted heat. 

That silver chain seemed to pull at your restless fingers, and you couldn’t decide if it made you more or less likely to cry if you carried it with you. 

You carried it with you. 

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🐊🤡🔴🗡️~~~

 

“The locket,” Crocodile breathed, his soothing hand halting its movement down Buggy’s legs. 

“You can hear her,” Mihawk praised. His voice was unbelieving, almost reverent. 

“Buggy, you’re brilliant,” Shanks laughed, leaning in to kiss his clown.

“SHUT UP!!”

The clown’s three lovers jolted at his yell, watching his face crumple while he curled in on himself. 

“I need to listen,” Buggy muttered as he shoved a finger in his remaining ear. “Gotta make her stop crying. Gotta stop…”

Looks were shared between his old enemies, their gentle hands unable to stop the flow of tears that stained that colorful face. 

~~~

“Buggy, you need to sleep,” Shanks pleaded, pulling him back against his chest. The three men curled around him on that giant bed, yet no word or touch seemed to calm their clown. Shanks held his lover from behind, wishing that he could wrap around him completely, protect him from all this pain.

“Have to listen,” Buggy almost whined, exhaustion dripping from him. 

Mihawk was afraid to reach out, as though his toxic touch could somehow sever that precious connection, somehow tear her from Buggy, yet again. He faced the clown as they laid on that glorious bed, this man that he’d ridiculed, tortured, abused… 

I don’t deserve–

Crocodile disrupted Mihawk’s self pitying thoughts, reaching around his body to touch Buggy’s face, brushing that pretty, blue hair aside. 

“We’re here, Buggy. We’ll help you. We’ll get her back.”

“She needs you to sleep now, baby,” Shanks whispered along Buggy’s ear. 

“Thank you for helping her,” Mihawk choked, that broken sound bringing the clown back to the room for a moment. 

He found golden eyes struggling to meet his gaze, and silver eyes staring as Crocodile hugged the quivering swordsman from behind. 

“I can’t help her. I can’t do anything,” Buggy rasped, his mouth dry as too many hands reached for him again. 

“You’re going to save her, Buggy,” Mihawk vowed, tracing fingers along his face, through tears and faded paint. “We’re going to help you. You have my word.”

Y/N’s sobs had slowed and quieted by now, fitful breathing letting him know that she was moving toward sleep. 

All alone. She’s…

Mihawk’s dangerous fingers trailed over his lips, those deadly eyes wider and softer than he’d thought possible. 

“Thank you, Buggy.”

This wasn’t the sort of kiss Buggy was used to, at least not from anyone besides Shanks and his star. 

It was just a kiss. 

Just a bare touch of lips that asked nothing of him. The swordsman kissed him, then cuddled against his chest, his scent and warmth finally slowing the clown’s breathing. 

Buggy fell asleep to the sound of her beating heart, while laying in this bed that felt empty, even with the four bodies upon it. 

I’m listening, star. I’m listening… 

 

~~~🐊🤡🔴🗡️~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~  

 

Gods, he could listen to himself talk all fucking day.

It seemed that Uncle Cedrick had called you in just to spout nothingness, blabbing about his recent deals, and “charity” ventures that were nothing more than ego boosts and tax write offs. 

Kill me now. 

“What was that, niece?”

An exhausted laugh escaped your lips, and you had to fight yourself not to give in to your useless desires to insult, to scream, to hurt. 

Now that he wasn’t restricted by the Cross Guild’s security regulations, Uncle had his personal guards trailing him everywhere, even on his own ship. 

Pathetic. 

“I do hope that your time as a hostage to pirates wasn’t traumatic enough to make you lose your sense of propriety.”

“Is that the party line, Uncle,” you sniffed, forcing another bite down. You wouldn’t let yourself be any weaker than you were, no matter how ashy the expensive food tasted. “Should I prepare a statement? Practice my crocodile tears?”

“Very funny,” he frowned, setting down his silverware to give you his full, disparaging attention. “Luckily, the people aware of your recent hobbies have a vested interest in keeping that knowledge close to the chest. But yes, if anyone asks, you were kidnapped by the clown, and held for ransom. I, of course, found and rescued you before they could– Well, that leads to our other concern…”

“And what would that be, uncle,” you scowled while you pictured all of the ways your daydreams could have killed him. 

The smile that tugged at his sneering lips almost had you spilling what little breakfast you’d managed to eat.

“You did say you were ready, Y/N,” he gloated, dabbing nothing from his face with his embroidered napkin. “It’s time for you to get married.”

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~  

~~~~~~

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

 

Buggy woke in a panic, already hearing Y/N’s voice. Her annoyance at some stranger wanting to dress her made him want to flay that person alive. The clown ignored everyone, everything in his path, until he tore through the old suite he’d shared with her. 

His star had barely brought a thing with her when she joined him. Lingerie and birth control, some expensive, but mismatched clothes, and of course, her notebooks, pens, and an old calculator. 

Why didn’t I see you were running from something, baby? I’m so– 

“How is–”

“SHUT UP!”

Three, dangerous men hovered by the door like strays begging for scraps. The clown would have laughed at that pathetic picture if it hadn’t shown just how fucking helpless they were to save her right now. 

“She’s talking to Uncle AssHat. Close the fucking door,” he ordered, cracking open one of her empty notebooks to feel like he was doing any fucking thing to help her. Her pretty pen scratched away at the page. Something about party lines, kidnapping, and… 

“It’s time for you to get married.”

The fuck?!

“Don’t worry, niece,” that fucking sleezeball continued, “it’ll still be your choice. Your mother will be thrilled to help you prepare to meet your suitors. It’s been too long since you’ve taken this seriously.”

“No. Nononono, star! This is stupid,” Buggy whispered, dropping her pen as his fingers tapped along his thighs.

“My choice,” she said with a dark laugh, clearing her throat to clear it away. “When does the parade of boredom begin?”

Pride for her attitude was sunk by the realization that she hadn’t argued, hadn’t resisted with anything more than her snark. 

“Come now, Y/N, not everyone can be as interesting as the mass murderers you’ve been bedding down with lately.”

Buggy held his hand over his mouth, the angry beat of her heart sending sick fear straight through him. Sweat poured through the muted paint he hadn’t removed the night before. 

“You have put us in quite the predicament, niece,” Cedrick paused, and Buggy couldn’t hear past that frantic beat to know what else might be happening in the room. “When all you were doing was playing at being poor, I didn’t see the harm in letting you wait. Now that you’ve shown the outlandish, dangerous situations you’ll put yourself in, I can’t risk you destroying the family’s reputation.”

Why aren’t you saying anything, baby? Your heart… 

“We'll have to wait at least a month, I’d say. Can’t allow people to question where any new little heirs might have come from. Although, if anything pops out with a fucking clown nose, we’ll just have to send it–” 

“Fuck you.”

Buggy had stopped breathing, trying to wake himself the fuck up from this piece of shit dream. 

“You can’t expect me to have any sympathy for those freaks. Not when you didn’t even trust them yourself,” Sylvad laughed, smug and shitty. “I watched you lie to them, niece. Don’t pretend they were anything real to you. Just a little adventure for an attention-seeking–”

“Shut up,” Y/N seethed, though it was too quiet. 

Star… 

“You never trusted those criminals, not for a second,” AssHat kept gloating. Buggy was about to explode with the need to stab this man in the fucking throat. “Don’t lie to yourself. You didn’t tell them the truth, because you know exactly what they would do to you if they found out.”

Her heart was too much, it didn’t sound right. 

This couldn’t be right.

“Arbo Sylvad’s little heiress only inherits her daddy’s wealth when she gets married,” Sylvad mocked, each new word like rotten food forced down Buggy’s throat. “And her lucky spouse gets their own hefty chunk of the company as soon as the vows are sealed. Which one of your pirate lovers do you think would have won the fight? I bet the swordsman would have–”

“You won,” his star growled, the sound forced as though her teeth were clenched. “I’m here, so why don’t you shut the fuck up already?”

“Don’t be so tense,” that asshole chuckled, voice a bit louder as though he’d leaned toward her. “You’ll have over a month until the wedding to pick your favorite suitor. You should be grateful, Y/N. It’s a lot more generous than I should be, given the damage you could have caused.”

“Fine.”

Buggy had forgotten that he existed. His head was in his hands, his eyes wide and dry while he gaped at the floor. Pieces of his body were scattered, but he couldn’t fucking feel a thing. 

“I’m certain we’ll find a suitor that you’ll be content with,” her uncle needled, that saccharine voice making the clown gag. “Besides, something good came from this little tantrum of yours. Now that I know my pretty niece prefers men my age, I’ll be setting you up with some friends of mine. They’ve been asking about you for years. I’m sure that at least one of them will let you call them da–”

Her heart.

Her rage.

A crash of noise shook the clown to his core. Y/N’s yells, broken glass, and “soothing” voices, did nothing to drown out that fucker’s smug laughter. 

All Buggy could do was try not to die. 

 

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🐊🔴🗡️~~~

 

Helpless. 

Sir Crocodile. 

Dracule Mihawk.

Red Haired Shanks.

Each of them was helpless, useless, pathetic.

They couldn’t help Y/N, and now they couldn’t help their clown, the only one of them that had held themselves together for her.

Crocodile huffed a laugh at the thought while he lit a cigar. Breakfast was a discarded concept as these three, powerful pirates moped in the lounge. 

“We have an in,” Shanks soothed the air, since no words could be soothing to the two men on the too empty couch. 

“Yes, astounding work retrieving a business card,” Mihawk snarked, his head leaning back against the couch while he clenched his eyes shut, fighting the urge for violence. “I wasn’t aware that you had such impressive networking skills. I would have—“

“Don’t be a brat,” Crocodile purred, drawing the other men’s eyes to his. “We can let out steam later. Right now—“

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Shanks stared. 

And stared. 

“You alright, Red Hair?”

Crocodile frowned at his enemy, letting it go. Letting it go for the two men he wanted to see happy again. 

Letting it go for the sweet girl that just might need this man’s help.

Well, he tried to let it go…

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Sorry,” Shanks shook himself, absolutely fucking bewildered by everything he’d witnessed since he stepped foot on this island. “Buggy’s right, though. We can’t go until we know she’ll want us to. It’s up to Buggy.”

“Can we at least plan out all the pretty ways we can end that Mr. Sylvad,” Mihawk sighed as he turned, stretching his legs across the couch, and over Crocodile’s lap. 

“I’m partial to gutting,” Crocodile gave the swordsman a tiny smile, laying that large hand onto those leather clad legs. 

Shanks frowned at the green couch, and at the men flirting over the topics of torture and death. 

“I’ve got a headache,” he groaned, covering his eyes.

“There’s more scotch on the bar,” Crocodile jerked his head, ignoring the rest of the trashed room. “I’ll take a glass.”

The red haired pirate laughed, pouring peaty glasses all around. 

“Good morning.”

 

~~~🐊🔴🗡️~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

 

Why are you so quiet, star? 

Her heart got slower as that shithead’s laughter faded into the distance. Too many, “right this way, Miss Sylvad’s,” made him feel spun around, until a door shut, and quiet took over. 

“Fucking stupid,” Y/N berated herself, quiet thuds making Buggy cringe, the sound as though she’d hit the meat of her thighs before falling to her knees.

Baby, let me help you…

Sick laughter bubbled up, just enough to freeze the blood in his veins, though she choked it down fast. Near silent whispers left her lips in a panicked slur, and Buggy curled in on himself, too weak for this torture.

“Don’t show it. Don’t let him see. Just daydreams now, just daydreams. Daydreams are good. Just…”

Her body drifted further and further away with each moment on that asshole’s ship, yet Buggy felt like they were inches apart, crumpled on the floor while broken sounds left both of their throats. 

“Why didn’t you trust me, star,” the clown cried, reaching for her, finding nothing. “Why did you leave me?”

“Buggy…”

His eyes flew open, forgetting that she wasn’t here, that she couldn’t hear him when she whispered his name. He listened while his pretty star sobbed, until her breathing stopped being human. 

~~~

Buggy had to be in a fucking nightmare. Nothing made any fucking sense anymore.

He snatched the notebook and pen, racing to the lounge with a finger in his ear to keep track of her soft, wounded noises. He charged into the room, his upper body floating close enough to smell the foul stench of Crocodile’s scotch, like a noxious cloud over the too relaxed men. 

Crocodile gazed at Mihawk, rubbing along his calves and feet where the swordsman had laid them in his lap, his extravagant boots tossed to the side of the couch. 

Shanks was on the floor, leaning against the couch in front of the swordsman, sighing while dangerous fingers played in his hair. 

“Buggy,” Mihawk breathed, looking genuinely pleased to see him.

“What the FUCK are you idiots doing?”

“Waiting for you, little clown,” Crocodile rasped, patting the back of the couch between him and the swordsman. 

“Did you hear something, Buggy,” Shanks breathed, sitting forward to reach his hand out. Soft, brown eyes scanned the clown too deep. 

Buggy’s need to scream at someone fizzled out, the looks on their faces reminding him that he wasn’t the only one that wanted to save her. 

“She’s gonna get married.”

 

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🌲🌲🌲⏰~~~

 

“I love you, Y/N,” your first love purred, kissing his way up your neck until he smiled down at you. 

He didn’t wait for you to respond, just tasted your frozen lips, bringing his hands back down your body until you sighed. 

“Don’t tease—“

“I’m not teasing,” he vowed, trapping you in his joyful gaze. “I love you! I’ve loved you for ages, you big nerd!”

“Hey,” you laughed, skin going hot while you tried to cover your face. He wouldn’t let you, lips pressing against every bit of burning skin he could reach while you squirmed. 

“I’ll go anywhere with you, Y/N. Your uncle’s stuffy mansion, your tiny, shitty dorm room, we can even run away and change our names. Just as long as it’s you and me…”

“Really,” you asked, not meaning to sound so lost. 

“Really,” he promised, stealing your heart. “Do you love me too?”

“I do,” you breathed, tearing your chest wide open for him. “I love you.”

 

~~~⏰🌲🌲🌲⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

I’m fine.

It was easier to lie to yourself when you remembered your new personal guards outside the door. 

More like prison guards. My other cage was prettier.

Biting down on your fist, you fought to silence anymore laughter that could mark you as wrong. You needed to get your shit together now. You couldn’t fall apart like you had at breakfast. Couldn’t let him push you… 

“I’ll just turn it all off. Shut it all down.”

Sighing at the pathetic words you hadn’t meant to say out loud, you fought to remember how you used to live. 

Breathe, slow and steady. Remember that nothing matters, so it shouldn’t bother you. Just focus on numbers. Counting, multiplying, dividing, making up random problems to solve in your head all day. 

I’ve got this. I’m fine.

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~  

~~~~~~

~~~🐊🤡🔴🗡️~~~

 

“What did you say,” Mihawk growled, the rumble of death in his voice.

Buggy’s body pulled together before this ragged group of pirates that had just looked as pathetic as humanly possible for such powerful men. 

Until he’d said those words. 

Now there was a thrum of violence that seemed to steal the oxygen from the air.

Doubt filled the clown, those vicious eyes freezing him, trapping him with decisions that all felt wrong. 

The red haired pirate sat up enough to grab Buggy’s hand, guiding the man to sit on the ground with him, to stare up at those towering villains on the couch. Shanks wanted to move him when he saw the view, but his clown was shaking, so he just held on as much as he would let him. 

“What did you hear,” Crocodile rasped, stretching out his fingers, fighting not to clench them, to tear them through the world to get to her. 

“I’ll kill you,” Buggy threatened, brushing off Shanks’ concerned grip. “If you hurt her, I won’t give a fuck. I’ll blow myself up to take both of you with me.”

Mihawk stared into those crystal eyes, seeing that same look that had been there all this time. He had laughed at it, punished it, until he was finally grateful for it. Buggy’s bravery, and his love for Y/N never wavered, even when they had smeared his blood across the floor. 

“If I ever hurt her again, I will gladly let you kill me.”  

Statues carved to gaze at each other, the swordsman and the clown might have remained there forever, if Crocodile hadn’t leaned close. 

“I don’t care what you heard, Buggy,” he assured, remembering her laughing in his clown's arms. “I’ll never be able to make up for what I did to you both, but I’m gonna start by getting our girl back, safe. No matter what.”

Crocodile offered his hand, meeting Shanks’ gaze over Buggy’s shoulder.

“You were right about me, Red Hair,” he confessed, his shoulders relaxing when Mihawk’s hand joined his. “I’m a monster, and I can’t change what… I’m never gonna hurt Y/N, or Buggy, or Mihawk again. I know it’s not–”

“That’s a lot of words for ‘help me,” Shanks teased lightly, tilting around Buggy so he could join Mihawk in touching the larger man’s hand. He apologized quickly, soothing Crocodile’s weak huff. “Turns out I’m not the best person either, but I’m here. I’ll do anything I can to bring her back.”

“I swear it,” Mihawk breathed, imploring the clown to let them in. “I don’t deserve her, but you do. I’ll–”

“How much fucking scotch did you guys drink,” Buggy scolded, his nervous laughter lightening the mood, but not the tension. Those three hands still waited, three sets of eyes on his skin. 

Three, old enemies that could betray him, could hurt her, could take her. 

Three lovers that had been saying such wonderful things. 

“I will blow us all–”

“I know you will, little clown," Crocodile praised, his face softening even further when that gloved hand finally touched his. 

Don’t turn it all off, baby. We’re gonna get you out of there.

Buggy felt like a fucking idiot, but he couldn’t stop this feeling.

Hope.

 

~~~🐊🤡🔴🗡️~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🌲🌲🌲⏰~~~

 

It was getting a little late, but you weren’t bothered at all. You waited, enjoying your cheap cocktail, and the cheesy grin that you couldn’t keep off of your face.

I love him. He loves me. 

Brand new words. Words that you hadn’t expected to find. At least, you weren’t supposed to, not unless the person who said them was on a certain list.

You didn’t give a fuck about any of that while you swirled your colorful straw, letting yourself feel it all.

“Hello, niece. Aren’t you looking adorable this evening?”

“Why are you here,” you spat while your eyes scanned the restaurant, hoping that your boyfriend would be late enough to miss meeting Uncle Cedrick.

“Are you looking for your date,” he chuckled, picking up your drink just to sniff and scowl at it. “I’m afraid he was in a bit of a hurry, and didn’t find the time to write a goodbye note for you. Something about an internship with Galley-La… I did save his signature though.”

Denial paralyzed you, even as he laid the contract out on the table. Every word on the page was a knife through the heart, but you couldn’t look away until you’d read it all, until you should have been bleeding, dying in the middle of that shitty restaurant.

“You know, it didn’t even take him five minutes before he decided to sign your love away for some pocket change, and a potential job,” Uncle Cedrick gloated, snatching up the contract before your humiliating tears could smudge the ink. “That sort of trash doesn’t belong anywhere near the Sylvad name.”

“I don’t want that fucking name,” you choked out, eyeing the guards he’d brought with him. 

He sat back, his arms spread wide, just like his disgusting smile. So at ease, so fucking pleased. 

“Are you feeling well, niece? Relationship troubles can–”

“I’m fine.”

Uncle Cedrick smirked, leaning over the table to touch your chin. You held your breath to keep from flinching, to keep from smelling that stupid cologne. 

“I knew you’d be fine. You’re such a smart girl,” he praised, and the urge to throw up in his face was getting harder to fight. “It’s been too long. I have some suitors for you to meet, and I can guarantee that none of them would stand you up for such a meager amount of berry.”

“No, you’d cut your friends a much better deal,” you seethed, shaking beneath his gentle touch. 

“You’re not a child anymore, Y/N,” he purred, and you had to close your eyes. Had to remind yourself why biting his fucking fingers off would be a bad idea. “You should know that people like us don’t get to marry for love, and I will do anything to protect this family. Even from my brother’s irritating obsession with his favorite daughter.”

He radiated satisfaction, and you knew exactly what smile he’d have when you opened your eyes. You could finally breathe again when he pulled away, taking his fingers, and his scent with him. 

“We’ll get you set up with a date this weekend,” he chatted, his friendly tone giving you a headache. “I found a gentleman that looks quite like your wannabe shipwright, so feel free to have a little extra fun if you need to. Just don’t forget your pill, at least not until the wedding. We don’t need any more complications…” 

Uncle Cedrick finally left, but your thoughts were too sharp, so you just stared, frowning at that cheap cocktail. Nausea roiled around your gut too much for you to open your mouth, let alone take a sip. 

 

~~~⏰🌲🌲🌲⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🐊🤡🔴🗡️~~~

 

Buggy threatened them all a few more times, still afraid to reveal his star’s secrets, but he knew he couldn’t do a thing without all of their help. 

“She lied to us, but I’ll shove a Buggy Ball up your–”

“I forgive her,” Crocodile sighed, almost laughing at his little clown. “I don’t care how many lies she told, I love her, and we’re getting her–”

“She didn’t trust us,” Buggy started again, his voice breaking slightly at the thought that she hadn’t trusted him. He pushed through, pushing out the next words as fast as he could. “She gets all that fucking tree money when she gets married, and whoever she marries instantly gets their own piece of that stupid company.”

“What?”

“I know you heard me, Hawk Eyes,” Buggy groaned, his hands floating away from their little huddle to shake and flap through the air. 

“That can’t be right. What idiot would write that in a will,” Crocodile scoffed, watching those floating hands. “If that got out, she’d have a fucking target on her back her whole life. They wouldn’t even need a ransom, they could just kidnap her, and force her to…” 

Eyes met, but all looked away while shame flooded the room.

“No wonder she’d never tell,” Shanks breathed, remembering the face she’d made when he pushed and prodded for her secret to come out. 

“You said she’s getting married,” Mihawk shook himself. That urgent question had stayed unanswered while they comforted each other, while she was adrift out there with no one but enemies beside her. “Who the fuck do we need to kill?”

Buggy laughed, sick laughter, as though his star needed him to let it out since she couldn’t. 

“My flashy girl's got a whole month to go on all sorts of shitty dates,” Buggy ranted, remembering what he’d be listening to for the next few weeks. “She gets to pick her favorite, slimy, fucking ASSHOLE, and then…”

“What, Bugs? We’ll know when the wedding is,” Shanks urged, rubbing his hand down Buggy’s back. “You just tell us when and where, and we’ll go get her.”

Silence went on, except for the scotch scented breaths that surrounded Buggy while he ran through everything he’d heard. They watched him for a few minutes after he brought his hands back, writing every detail he could remember.

“It’s not enough…”

They didn’t prod this time, but three hands touched Buggy again, until he sagged against Shanks’ chest. 

“She wouldn’t leave me for this,” he tried to declare, but had to swallow the pressure in his throat to force it out. “She doesn’t wanna be there, you should hear her…”

Y/N had gone quiet, though he could tell she wasn’t sleeping. It sounded like she was just sitting in silence, not even the rustle of a book to fill the air. 

Like she’d shut herself down.

“She’s smart, and she’s strong. She wouldn’t let him do this to her without a reason.”

“I trust you, Buggy,” Mihawk rasped, giving his clown the hint of a smile. “You’ll figure out the excuse we need to crash that wedding, and I’m certain you’ll put on quite the show.”

“I, yeah,” Buggy frowned as the swordsman's hands trailed down his chest, making him pause. Shanks gave a little huff of protest when Mihawk sank to the pile of rugs, pulling Buggy to the side. 

“She trusts you. She wants you, Buggy,” Mihawk purred, feeling lost in a way that felt right as he followed along with his body’s plans. “You woke her up last night. You should have heard her little noises, should have smelled her after the finale…”

Shanks watched his lovers falling into each other, and there was a fearful urge to attach himself there, to cling, and to claim. 

Yet something in the way their eyes were caught together made the red haired pirate take a breath, pulling himself up to sit on that green couch. The scarred man topped off their glasses of scotch, and they watched the show. 

Crocodile hummed when they tapped their glasses, wondering if it was the scotch, the loss, or the fact that maybe things really were loosening up, that made this moment of sharing so relaxed, so easy. 

“Smelled,” Buggy asked once he could remember how to talk, wetting his lips while he stared at Mihawk’s taunting mouth. Only it wasn’t taunting. 

“Our little rabbit wanted you so badly, I thought she might leap over the crowd just to touch you.”

Buggy sighed, remembering her perfect smile. Then he gasped as Mihawk reached for him, kissing up his throat while those dangerous fingers traveled over his body, pulling at his clothes. 

“What are–”

“I wanted you too, Buggy,” Mihawk confessed, eyes fluttering as he let himself give in, let himself say the things he wanted to say. “I’m so sorry. I treated you… I didn’t see you.”

“I’m kinda hard to miss,” Buggy deadpanned, feeling dizzy when the swordsman laughed. 

Mihawk crawled over the clown, tossing his coat to the floor with barely a thought while he straddled him. He’d pulled at Buggy’s clothes enough that both of their upper bodies were bare, and the clown gave him a puzzled look. 

“Why–”

“I didn’t see how strong you are,” Mihawk purred, moving his body along Buggy’s until the clown made pretty faces for him, soft fabric and leather rubbing together. He heard what sounded like two, pleased hums behind him, but Mihawk was too focused to look back. “Buggy the Clown is smart, and wicked, and powerful. I called you a fool, but… I was the fool. I didn’t see–”

“Shut up,” Buggy grumbled, wiggling away until Mihawk had to lay beside him, propped up on an elbow. The clown’s head was still quiet, but all of those words… 

“Buggy, I–” 

“Stop,” he snarled, cringing at the look in those golden eyes when Mihawk pulled his hand away. 

“I’m sorry, of course,” Mihawk swallowed, not sure what to do with his hand now that it shouldn’t be touching the man he’d hurt.

“Bugs?”

That deep voice was ignored while Buggy sat up, brows furrowed when he got in the swordsman’s face. 

“You love her too,” he announced, clapping a gloved hand along Mihawk’s arm. “I’m glad you love her, but you don’t need to pretend you like me.”

“Little clown…” 

That even deeper voice was ignored while Mihawk sat up, kissing the clown until they both made hungry noises, but Buggy pushed him away. 

“Toy, right? I can play. But we need to get–”

“You’re not a toy,” Mihawk vowed, hoping this would be the last time he’d have to say those words. “I want you, Buggy. I want to be with you, truly.”

The men on the couch had expected less talk during the show, and the urge to assist, and to comfort their boys was ramping up. Shanks watched, wide eyed, unsure if jealousy or gratitude would be a better fit. He took a swig, deciding that he liked gratitude better.

“There’s nothing I can say that will take away what I’ve done,” Mihawk breathed, feeling shameful grief at the fear that this man would never look at him without those monstrous memories behind his eyes. 

“I’m not mad anymore,” Buggy soothed, not sure what was happening. “We’re good, okay? We–”

“Not mad anymore?”

Danger . 

Something fucking deadly just filled the air. The men on the couch tensed, but neither tried to stop it. 

“You must have been sooo angry with me…” 

Shanks held in a laugh, smirking at Crocodile whose brows had lifted high, that frightening face looking shocked, but amused. 

“Well, obviously, but it’s…” Buggy trailed off again, Mihawk’s wicked grin looming closer. 

“I bet you imagined all sorts of ways to make me pay, didn’t you,” the swordsman wondered, biting his lip while his eyes poured over Buggy’s skin. His breath hitched when he noticed that lovely blush moving up the clown’s neck to his pretty face. “Did you imagine how you’d like to punish me?”

Buggy couldn’t help it. He was trying not to get sucked into whatever game this was. He needed to follow his old rules. Don’t get attached. Don’t like them too much. Don’t fall for the con. 

But that perfect fucking face was unreal, the tiny movements around the eyes, the smirking corner of his lips, just fucking daring him to take a bite. 

“I took an anger management class once,” Buggy coughed, shaking his head slowly as if to ward off this manic birdman. “So I’m totally fine!”

“Fine, really? Even after all of those awful things I did. All of those rotten things I said?”

The little flicker in Buggy’s eyes made Mihawk want to beg. He still might, but first, he pushed. 

“What did I call you,” Mihawk hummed, leaning back on a hand while he remembered what a monster he was, trying to make it better. “That’s right. I just couldn’t believe how Y/N had ended up with such a pathetic clown.”

The clown couldn’t hide the slight jerk to his head, the hint of a snarl that anyone but Dracule Mihawk might have missed. 

“I said so many terrible things. I wouldn’t blame you for wanting to tear me to pieces,” the swordsman begged, and dared, and apologized. The room felt charged, static before a storm. 

Buggy couldn’t look away from that perfect face.

“Mm, what did I say that first night? We made her promise something, didn’t we? Made her repeat my vicious words…”

The clown would have told him to stop if he could unclench his jaw. 

“Do you remember, Buggy,” he whispered, his body loose, welcoming. “Do you remember how much you wanted to hurt me?”

A soft whine left the clown’s throat when Mihawk teased fingers over his chest, playing in that dark, blue hair. 

“Don’t disappoint us by lowering yourself for that clown? What a cruel thing to say,” Mihawk rasped, almost losing his teasing tone as he drowned in his own guilt. “Are you sure you’re not still angry, Buggy? Even after we made her say–”

“Shut the fuck up,” Buggy growled, more frightening than any yell the other men had heard from him. He let out a frustrated groan at how fucking happy the swordsman seemed to be while he choked him, both hands disconnected to shove the man onto the floor by the throat. 

“You fucking psycho,” the clown scoffed as he straddled him, snarling down at those fluttering eyes. “Treat me worse than trash, then you get off when you try to say you’re sorry? You’re a fucking monster!”

“I am, please. I am a monster,” Mihawk fell apart, spluttering when Buggy released his neck, nothing hurting him enough to take it all away. “I’m so sorry, Buggy, please…”

Mihawk’s face crumpled, writhing beneath him with pathetic apologies spilling from his quivering lips. 

Dracule fucking Mihawk was crying. Begging for forgiveness. 

He’s really committed to the bit. 

Buggy laughed again, and the look of shame on Mihawk’s face at the sound finally made it sink in. 

He fucking believes it. He believes he deserves it…

“You’d better not think one shitty little tantrum’s gonna be enough for me to forgive you,” Buggy taunted, squeezing the man’s cheeks until his lips pushed out, already wet with drool and tears. 

Mihawk shook his head as much as that grip would allow, panicked whimpers like some chaotic song filling the air while he tried to meet Buggy’s eyes. 

“You gonna let me–”

“Anything,” Mihawk moaned, breaking free enough to breathe his consent against Buggy’s lips. “I deserve anything you want to give me, Buggy. Fucking hurt me–”

The clown’s eyes went wide, shocked by his own fist that had sent Mihawk’s head to the side. He glanced back, but couldn’t decipher the looks the men on the couch gave him, and the look on Mihawk’s face made his mouth dry. 

“Let it out, Buggy,” Mihawk purred, feeling high, feeling right. “Show me how fucking wrong I was about you, darling. Show me–”

“You talk too much, idiot,” Buggy panted, hitting this beautiful, insane man again. 

“I do,” he moaned, overwhelmed, and needing it all. “I said so many–”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

Buggy tore his gloves off, stuffing them into that mean mouth before stripping them both. He laughed, wicked and hungry, at the pathetic moans forced through that dirty fabric.

“Here.”

Crocodile pulled the lube from the side table, grinning at Buggy’s shocked face when he handed it off to Shanks. The red haired pirate winked at the clown before tossing him the bottle, then stuck his tongue out at the world’s greatest swordsman. 

Mihawk drooled into the gloves, tearing up when Buggy gifted him with vicious nails, scraped down his sides. 

“Don’t stop crying,” Buggy growled in the swordsman’s face while he shoved lubed fingers inside of him, loving the chaos in those watery eyes. “I’m gonna fuck you just like this, so I can watch Dracule Mihawk cry on my cock. Can’t believe I was ever scared of you… You’re just a desperate whore, huh? Just wanna get fucking wrecked by a clown?”

Little noises, frantic nods, tears, and pretty tears, while Buggy forced himself into Mihawk’s tight ass, satisfaction in every rough, punishing thrust. 

“Alright, crybaby, tell me how fucking sorry you are now,” Buggy taunted, ripping the gloves from Mihawk’s lips before fisting into that soft, black hair. The clown was taking him up on his offer, fucking the swordsman harder and faster than he knew he could, fucking every ounce of anger and helplessness that he’d ever felt into the blubbering man beneath him.

“F-fuck, Buggy,” he choked, melting at the powerful look in the clown’s eyes, the evil smile of control on those lips. Melting under that thick, merciless cock that was giving him exactly what he deserved, exactly what he fucking needed. “I’m s-sorry, I–”

“Are you done apologizing?”

Mihawk’s eyes fought to refocus on that smirk, and he shook his head. 

“No, Buggy. Not even close.”

“Good.”

So many things at once. 

Buggy pulled away just enough to give Mihawk a brutal, backhanded slap. The swordsman was rocked by the force, the power, the pleasure, and the moment was so blissfully intense that he came, forgetting everything but the man that took him there.

Buggy laughed at the lovely ropes of come spilling between them, covering the other man’s chest and stomach, but the desperate look on that face dragged him down too. Buggy groaned, filling Mihawk with so much heat that it spilled down the sides of his cock while he kept fucking until they both whined, too much. All too much. 

He finally pulled out, but Mihawk tugged at him, forcing the clown to meet those golden eyes again. 

“I’m sorry, Buggy. I hope you believe me,” he breathed, all that pleasure still not enough to take away his need to make things right. 

“You made a pretty convincing argument,” Buggy smiled, eyes sparking when Mihawk gave a surprised laugh. 

“Look at our pretty, little boys,” Shanks purred, drawing their eyes. 

“Maybe we can get along after all,” Crocodile threatened, his deep voice making every other man fight to resist a shiver. 

“Maybe we–”

Buggy’s stomach was comically loud when it cut Shanks off, and it reminded all of these big, scary men that even they couldn’t survive on scotch and sex indefinitely. 

Even they had to come back down to earth, and remember that their girl was all alone, that they still didn’t know how to get her back.

They were forced to remember that she had never trusted them in the first place. 

“Buggy,” Crocodile soothed, tugging on the clown’s braid, still damp from the shower, while they all spaced out over brunch. “Is she…”

“She’s quiet,” Buggy reported, wishing he could hear her thoughts instead of just her disconcerting heart. “One of the servants said they’re landing in the morning. Something about her mom’s ‘preparations.” 

“Preparations,” Shanks asked, watching his clown for every sign of strain while he listened to his star. 

“Our girl’s about to go on a dating spree,” Buggy reminded, failing to keep his tone light. 

“Are you–”

“I’ll be fine,” Buggy lied, cutting the swordsman off. “You remember what she said. Those assholes are BORING. It’ll probably be a big snooze fest.”

“Just tell us what you need, little clown,” Crocodile hummed. 

His three lovers watched him while the clown closed his eyes, covering his ear to hear that lonely heartbeat. 

“I just need her back,” Buggy whispered, tapping her rhythm onto his own chest. “I need my shining star.”

 

~~~🐊🤡🔴🗡️~~~

Notes:

Everybody say thank you to Kage for the most delicious comments that just fit EXACTLY what our boys needed 🙏🏼🥰

Chapter 29: Don’t Say Anything

Summary:

Listening is taking its toll on the clown, but hopefully what he hears gives your lovers a place to start. You go "home."

Notes:

Hi friends! In case you don't follow me on tumblr or didn't see the posts, I have been having some health issues lately, so my posting schedule might not get back to normal for a bit, even though I want it to!! 😭 We're here for Numbers Game shenanigans, so I won't go into it on Ao3 after this notice, but if you'd like to know what's going on you can look at my tumblr tag: #lynna's health updates The posts are heavy, and have content warnings, so please don't read if it'll be too much!

I am just incredibly grateful for all of you!! Your support and comments mean the world to me, and although I'm still too low on spoons to respond to everything, I see it all, and you have no idea how much it helps me. Thank you so much!!!! 🙏🏼💜

~

!!! DARK CONTENT WARNING !!! There's something in this chapter that I would tag, but it gives something away. Uncle Cedrick is awful, and although there is no physical contact, something extremely violating is done to the reader. It can be inferred from other sections of the chapter, but I will bracket the part where it is clearly stated, and where he's extra fucked up, with these symbols: ~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~ If you aren't already, please be prepared for more trauma and abuse as we get to know the Sylvad family. I'll try to keep putting warnings, but I don't want to give the story away. Please take care of yourselves! I'd hate for my words to be triggering for anyone. 💜

~

Alternate POV Symbols:
🌲 ~ Reader | 🐊 ~ Crocodile | 🗡 ~ Mihawk | 🤡 ~ Buggy | 🔴 ~ Shanks | ⏰ ~ Flashbacks for listed POV | ⚫ ~ Scenes depicting Dark Content as listed in Author's Notes

Extras:
Ongoing Series Playlist ~ YouTube Music Link ~ YouTube Link

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

Oak Roots Estate.

Uncle’s favorite vacation home. You were surprised he hadn’t changed its name to “Cedar Roots” by now. 

“I’m not going anywhere until I see Kat.” 

“No need to get feisty,” he tutted, nodding toward the private island the ship had docked at. A small towns’ worth of servants flitted about, ensuring that everything in his line of sight would be to his liking. 

You wanted to gag. 

“I knew you’d be a smart girl and come home, so I went ahead and made preparations. Your mother and sister are here, and we’ll be hosting your potential husbands in a few days. We won’t be wasting any more time.”

He moved too close, towering over you before touching your lower back to guide you off the ship. 

“You won’t be stepping foot off of this island until you pick a new owner, Y/N, but you’ll have plenty to choose from, and I’ll make sure that your private dates are held far away from any listening ears. I’m certain that you can convince someone you like to stay with you, at least now that they’ll get some berry along with that eager body of yours.”

The suicidal urge to shove him off the ramp into the water was so fucking intense, you had to bite the inside of your cheek not to do it. 

“Do you understand, niece?”

“I understand,” you seethed inwardly, starting to remember how to hold it all in. 

Your uncle grabbed your elbow, pulling you gently off the docks before brushing the hair from your face. 

The salty wind was everything. You tried to exist in it, to be aware of only its touch on your skin.

Otherwise you’d be snarling.

“Are you feeling well, niece?”

“I’m fine.” That effortless lie was a mantra, a prayer. You went loose, just empty enough to look pliable, not frightening. 

“Hm,” he judged, scanning your face while his fingers kept trailing through your hair. “I hope that’s the case. However, given your recent extreme behavior, I’ve asked Dr. Vorsan to see you.”

“I’m here, Uncle. I’m fine,” you smiled, but you could tell it hadn’t reached your eyes.

I need to get my shit together.

“That’s so good to hear,” he purred, donning his favorite, smug smile before nudging you toward the stupid fucking carriage. He waited until you were perched on the embroidered cushions, and heading up to the estate, before twisting you further.

“Since Dr. Vorsan is already here, I think it’s best that he checks in on you. Trauma is a tricky thing, Y/N. I’d hate to send my niece off to marriage in poor health.”

Swallowing. Smiling. Nodding.

“There’s my smarty,” he laughed, leaning forward to pat your knee. “Just be a good girl, and all of this will be over in a month.”

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🐊🔴🐊🔴~~~

 

Buggy was trashing a random suite today.

The three, invincible men in the hall were helpless again, helpless while their clown raged, tearing everything apart as he alternated between taking notes and throwing furniture against the wall. 

“That doesn’t sound…” Shanks didn’t know why he’d spoken. His words were worse than useless. He mourned the loss of the swordsman's heat where their shoulders had leaned against each other while they sat on the floor, watching Crocodile pace.

Shanks was sure the frightening man would leave an anxious groove in the floor soon.

“Where are you going,” Crocodile frowned, watching his little prince flee the scene. 

“I’ll be back.”

Crocodile huffed a laugh, shocked by how much Mihawk’s shortness affected him. He shouldn’t have cared at all, but now he stared after the man, not sure if he wanted to hold him or yell at him. 

“He does that,” Shanks sighed, deciding not to care if Mihawk heard him. He was probably too preoccupied to focus on them anyway. “He likes to run away from his feelings. Don’t take it personally.”

Crocodile grimaced as what had to be a large piece of furniture slammed against the closed door. He slid down the wall to sit across from the red haired man, tapping his hook on the carpet. 

“He’s been doing alright lately,” he noted, staring blankly down the empty hall. 

“Yeah,” Shanks agreed, tugging at the collar of his cloak. The feel of the cloth suddenly made him want to strip, wanting nothing to be fucking touching him right now. “How did you do that?”

Fuck.

There it was. Envy.

That stinging realization was just one too many for the red haired pirate to deal with, but the thought wouldn’t shove off.

Sir Crocodile had managed to get Buggy and Mihawk to stay. To care. 

Why wasn’t I enough?

Shanks slipped into a weak smile when he imagined the size of the bowl of sake he’d need to drink to get this shit out of his head. 

“What do you mean? …You alright, Red Hair?”

Crocodile was already annoyed with this tentative truce. He was trying to get over it. Sometimes it felt like he had, but then something would get caught in his mind, bringing it all back. This self righteous, pretty boy had fucked with his home, had hurt his sweet girl, had gotten his boys all twisted in knots, and he still might steal them away from him. Yet he had the nerve to sit here and mope. 

The ex-Warlord took a long, slow breath while the other man took his sweet time before replying.

“What did you do that made them, you know.” Shanks waved his hand, the act of speaking these stupid words taking too much energy, so he quickly dropped it back down to his lap. “I don’t think I’ve seen either of them like this. They’re so… open.”

The Emperor of the Sea had to swallow nasty guilt with that word, realizing just how jealous he’d been. 

“Are you jealous of me,” Crocodile chuckled with genuine pleasure at the thought. 

Shanks gave him a look that would have withered a lesser man, but he just got louder. 

After a few more, much needed laughs, the ex-Warlord spoke, truth and fear leaving his lips. 

“You don’t need to worry about me, Red Hair. It was all her,” he breathed, clenching his eyes shut at the sound of her name yelled from Buggy’s lips. “Y/N woke us all up. She’s… She’s perfect. I know the boys will follow her, so you just need to worry about wooing my sweet girl. Then you can take everything.”

“Crocodile,” Shanks started, but trailed off when they caught eyes, pain and defeat clear on both of their faces. 

“As long as you help us get her back, I’ll–” 

“Can you IDIOTS shut the FUCK UP ?!! ”

Shanks couldn’t hold in a snort, but regretted it instantly at the sight of Buggy’s deranged eyes. His dark circles seemed even darker since the clown hadn’t bothered to put any makeup on today. That alone would have worried him, but now Buggy growled, tossing a crumpled piece of paper into the hall before shutting himself in the room again. 

The red haired pirate started to push himself up to grab the message until sand moved in a wave, reaching out from Crocodile’s body as it pulled the paper into his hand. He flattened it on his thigh with his hand, holding a corner down with the back of his hook, before reading the messy note.

“Do you ever leave grains of– whoa, what is it,” Shanks asked, eyes wide as the scarred man yanked his hook out from the carpeted floor he’d just smashed a hole into. 

Crocodile couldn’t speak yet, so he just crumpled and tossed the paper toward the other man. He wanted to join in Buggy’s rage, to tear this fucking place to the ground. 

But he needed to be strong for them. 

“I’m gonna kill him slow,” he growled, focusing on his clenched teeth to keep from forcing Buggy to recite every fucking word he was hearing. 

Shanks snagged the crumpled paper, flapping it through the air before smoothing it out on the floor with his shaky hand. Dread sat on him while he pulled it up, reading Buggy’s large, angry handwriting. 

~~~~~~

Uncle CUNTDICK   says

• pick new OWNER???!
• Private Dates - no listenin 
• She can convince one she like to stay?? FOR BERR   

HER EAGER BODDY!?   GONNA FCKIN KIL L!!! he’ll DIEso

fucking

    Bloody gonna SLICE off hisarms & shove a buggy ball down histhroat and tear

DOCTOR !! 

Star’s scared of that doc. Borsan?

Vorsan ??  she’s scared of him.   

  her HEART IS ! who the fuck is he ?    gonna kill

KILL fucking SHUT up out there you 

       dicKBAGS! !     

~~~~~~

~~~~~~

“I’m gonna get info on this fucking doctor. Stay with– Will you–”

“You got it, boss,” Shanks smiled weakly, matching Crocodile’s hushed tone. “I’ll keep an eye on our clown.”

The ex-Warlord got to his feet, his shoulders slumping beneath his heavy coat at the sound of Buggy’s fresh curses, as though the president of the Cross Guild had hurt himself doing whatever had caused that particularly loud crashing noise.  

“I’ve got him,” the Emperor of the Sea assured, hoping that he wasn’t lying. He stared while that large, fur covered back moved down the hall, leaving him there to feel helpless. 

Crocodile still felt helpless, but that name echoed in his mind, a death knell for some unlucky doctor.

You scare my sweet girl, you fucking suffer.   

 

~~~🐊🔴🐊🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🌲🌲🌲⏰~~~

 

“I’m scared,” you whispered, patting your harness.

“Babe, how the fuck have you never done this? You fucking own these trees,” your second love teased while she shooed your anxious fingers away from the heavy buckles. 

“I do not own these trees,” you pouted, her taunting glare too powerful to resist smiling at. “And just because–”

“Come on, cutie,” she rasped, pulling you as close as the ropes would allow. “You’d better jump after me, otherwise you won’t be able to say it back.”

“Say what back,” you squirmed, the brief press of her lips against yours sending heat across your skin. 

“I love you, babe,” she smirked, winking before she leapt off the platform to fly through the air, ziplining through the massive trees.

You froze, not from fear of heights or faulty harnesses, but of those pretty, little words. 

Her dangerous smile, her overwhelming voice, the way she made you…

It felt so fucking good to leap into the unknown, letting yourself be free. 

She loves me.

Screaming through the intoxicating air of the forest heights left you breathless and laughing when you returned to solid ground. She tackled you instantly, ignoring the crowd of workers and tourists, and you felt higher than you’d been at the top of that first tree. 

“Good job, babe,” she praised, pinning you onto the grass without a care for who was watching. “Knew my girl was brave.”

“I’d do anything for you,” you confessed, shoving down the terror in your gut. “I love you too.”

“Fuck yeah, you do,” she grinned onto your lips, sending you even higher when she curled her fingers into your hair. 

“Can we leave,” you whispered, suddenly aware of all the eyes on your skin. 

“Sure, cutie," she purred, kissing your forehead before winking again. "You deserve a drink after that. You could have died!”

 

~~~⏰🌲🌲🌲⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

The realizations you’d had on Karai Bari spun through your mind while you tried not to scowl at the grotesque displays of wealth all around you.

You hadn’t given a fuck what they had done for money. Hadn’t cared at all when that marine was strung up, bleeding on the wheel. The way you’d felt when Buggy smiled at you like that, when he’d killed for you without a thought…

Not feeling like a good person wasn’t that much of a paradigm shift though. You’d always been a selfish—

“Y/N!”

“Kat?”

Your sister looked perfect, healthy, safe.

“You’re fucking in— stupid! I can’t believe you’re alive,” she scolded, pulling you into a hug that you sank into, heat climbing up your throat. 

She’s alright. She’s— 

“You’re okay?”

“Of course, she’s okay, Y/N,” Uncle Cedrick purred, hovering over your shoulder until she stepped away. “I’ll always take care of our family. Your maid of honor is here to make sure the lovely bride is ready for the big day, aren’t you, Kat.”

“If that’s what she wants,” Kat scowled, soothing your heart for just a moment. 

“Of course, she wants it,” he gloated, smoothing his palm in gentle circles between your shoulder blades, almost as if he were a loving uncle. “You’d have to be crazy not to want the world, especially when it helps the people you love.”

“I want it,” you smiled, but Kat knew. You could see it in those cynical eyes.

“I—“

“Why don’t you show our little bridezilla to her suite,” he suggested. Uncle Cedrick smiled at Kat the way he smiled at no other, though she gave him nothing back. Your sister was still the only person he seemed to give the tiniest shit about. “I’m sure your big sis could use some rest. She’s going to have a busy month.”

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

 

“I wouldn’t if I were you,” Shanks warned, hopping up off the floor to whisper over the swordsman’s shoulder. He still smelled amazing, even without his special beard oil on, and the red haired pirate wanted to slap himself.

How can I keep thinking like this when—

“I’ll be fine,” Mihawk sighed with his hand hovering over the door handle. “I'm done running from my feelings.”

It may as well have been a blade. The peck of a kiss the swordsman gave the Emperor sent him reeling, dizzy with the loss of sanity rather than blood. The man with predator eyes didn’t stay to watch his victim stumble against the wall before sneaking into the suite. 

Shanks felt even more guilt when he steadied himself, charging down that empty hall, but this time the guilt was overpowered by the very thing it was caused by.

The Emperor was smiling, wide and true. 

He wouldn’t sit back, and do nothing while the people he loved were suffering. That simple, comforting peck from a predator had spurred him on, and Shanks couldn’t fight this growing feeling.

Hope. 

 

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🗡️🤡🗡️🤡~~~

 

“Get the fuck out,” Buggy snapped without checking who’d opened the door. He clenched his eyes shut, wishing that he’d given Y/N his other ear. The clown sat in the center of a pile of slightly crumpled pages, his nondominant hand floating to shove a finger into the ear on the opposite side while he took too many, useless notes. 

Her heart was so loud, and there were so many sounds now that she’d made it to the estate. He couldn’t miss anything, struggling over the sounds of her breath and her heartbeat to catch the servants voices in the background.

He never struggled to hear Uncle CockRot though. That shithead loved to hear himself talk.

And he keeps getting too close to her…

“FUCK,” Buggy cursed, his hands stopping their work while he tossed a chair at the wall again. “Gods, damn it…”

The clown swallowed the guilt that his pathetic outbursts kept feeding. He needed to listen, to be quiet, but he could not fucking take this. How was he supposed to stay calm?

What did they say in that stupid class? Count to ten… 

Mihawk stilled, watching the clown settle back on the floor after another show of rage. Buggy was so focused on his task that he hadn’t noticed his golden eyed lover studying him in silence. 

The swordsman felt a ridiculous urge to smile at the sight of this frantic man that was rocking back and forth, scribbling line after line, thinking of nothing but saving his pretty star. 

Dracule Mihawk had known determination. A singular focus, an overpowering goal. He’d met many that claimed to have it, but they always faltered. They never truly knew what it was to be driven. To care about only one thing, and to stop at nothing until they achieved it. 

He may have looked like he was falling apart, yet Mihawk knew that he could never again think of this man as pathetic after seeing that will in those tired eyes. Buggy was fighting for the very thing that Mihawk had run from like a coward his entire life. 

The clown was going to save her, and the swordsman was going to help him.

He stepped silently, opening his fist just close enough for Buggy to see it, confusion following the rage that lined the clown’s face. He paused, then grabbed the earplug Mihawk offered, stuffing it into his ear before shaking the cramps out of both of his hands. 

Mihawk allowed himself a small smile as he removed a fresh notepad from the tote he’d found in the kitchen, holding it out so Buggy could read the message he’d scrawled on the top page. 

~~~~~~

Would you like to join me in Adam’s room while you listen? 

 

I have cookies.

 

- M

~~~~~~

~~~~~~

The swordsman tucked the notepad away while Buggy was still blinking at it, offering a cookie instead. He swallowed a laugh at the man’s feral grab, a floating hand snatching it before shoving it into his mouth. 

They gathered up the chaos of notes as best they could. The swordsman carried everything, so that the clown could keep his hands free, stopping now and then to write with the notepad pressed against the wall. 

Adam’s guard left without a word, leaving Mihawk alone with his muttering lover, and their furry reminder of the heartbeat that Buggy had caged himself with. He’d taken the tote, laying out his new nest of mayhem on the floor. Buggy tried not to let the fact that these were her favorite cookies keep himself from eating, or listening. 

They tasted a bit watery though. 

The light touch against his hair nearly made him violent, but he turned to find Mihawk had joined him on the floor. He cocked his head while he wielded a brush like a sword, asking permission. Adam crawled onto the swordsman’s lap, rubbing his furry chin along that chiseled jaw until he procured a good head scritching. 

Buggy nodded consent, and these two, deadly pirates tried to find comfort in a room that felt cold without her sweet laughter. 

~~~

“How did you…” Buggy trailed off. Y/N was quiet for the moment, but he focused on her breath before gesturing to his ear, annoyed with himself that he hadn’t thought of it first. 

“I figured the armory might carry some ear protection, given how impressive your balls are,” Mihawk managed to deadpan in a whisper. He kept up that bored face while he studied Buggy’s recent notes, still playing with the lovely, blue hair he’d gotten all the tangles out of hours ago.

“My BALLS,” Buggy choked out, laughter ripping through him before he clamped a hand over his lips. “My– Buggy Balls…”

“Are quite impressive,” Mihawk teased, tugging at Buggy’s hand until he let him massage the meat of his palm. “Is there anything else I can–”

“She’s eating dinner by herself,” the clown reported, floating toward the door while his stomach cried out for anything besides watery cookies. 

“Not for long,” Mihawk declared, sending the cat’s guard back into Adam’s suite after grabbing Buggy’s notes. “Let’s keep your strength up, little clown.”

“You’re hungry too, crybaby,” Buggy teased, floating and twisting his head around to stick his tongue out at the wildly dangerous man he’d just made fun of. He felt a sudden need to move faster.

Mihawk smirked when those tired eyes widened, but he couldn’t choose how to respond. The clown didn’t give him time to decide, his bare feet racing fast, while his body floated even faster. 

Yet the thought of their darling eating alone was too sobering, so he shook himself free from that urge to chase, and followed his clown instead.  

 

~~~🗡️🤡🗡️🤡~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

Kat had never been as good at pretending as you were, even though she didn’t hate it as much as you did. Although, the tension in her shoulders that ran all the way down to her almost clenched fists left you wondering if that was still true.

“I made him give us adjoining suites,” she sighed, ushering you into an opulent room. A miracle left your lips, a small laugh escaping when your sister yanked you, forcing you onto the bed. The shitty, stupid dress crumpled up when you tried to sit crossed legged, too glad to see her to care about anything else. 

“I’m sorry I left you—“

“I’m sorry I told him—“

Two sisters, two half smiles.

Does that equal one whole smile?

You snorted at your own brain, always making up dumb math problems, then hissed at the punch to the arm it earned you.

“I thought you were going to die, Y/N. You know those are famous pirates, right,” she accused. Your sister’s voice had gone high, and she seemed to latch back onto anger to keep it from wavering. “I learned all about your employers. All about the people they—”

“I know,” you breathed, your shoulders relaxing when she let you rest your hand on hers. “It was selfish, okay? I just wanted to disappear for a while.”

“You don’t want to be here.” 

“No, I do,” you assured, forcing yourself back in. 

It’s not a lie. 

“You were right,” you sighed, stretching so you could look away from her sharp eyes. “It’s been long enough. I got to have an adventure. I got to pretend. Now it’s time—“

“I shouldn’t have said that,” she groaned, leaving your side to pace after kicking off her heels. “I don’t want you to do this just because—“

“I’m not doing this just so you and mom can get your inheritance. Although, I hope you take the berry and run.”

A joke laced with icy truth went icier when she scowled at you. 

“Right,” she drawled, slumping onto the couch. “I’m sure Uncle would love it if we both ran away.”

“You don’t need to…“

The old argument fizzled out before it began, too much jealousy and guilt shared between you. 

“Is he still—“

“Apparently I’m ‘too old for the appetites of Dragons now,” your sister spat, and you practically flew across the room. 

“Well, thank fuck for that,” you almost laughed as you sat beside her. “What about—“

“No one else wants to wed the destitute sister of the wayward heiress.”

The old argument reared up again, stinging more every time.

“Kat, you can leave,” you urged, desperate for it to be true. “You don’t need to marry for the family, you can get out. Have a normal life, and find someone you love!”

“Like you did,” Kat sighed, more pain than cruelty in her voice. 

You nodded in defeat, leaning against her while you both breathed the pointless arguments away. The Sylvad sisters found comfortable quiet in stifled lives, just as you’d always done. 

She’s right. People like us don’t get to have love.

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🌲🌲🌲⏰~~~

 

Your second love cocked an eyebrow at you while you pushed a napkin down the bar counter, giving you a flirty smile before reading your note.

~~~~~~

Don’t say anything, please. Run away with me tonight?

I am being 100% serious. 

 

Meet me at the gift shop on the pier at 8.

 

Kiss me once for no.

Kiss me twice for yes.

 

I love you.

~~~~~~

~~~~~~

Panic flooded through you while you waited, worried that you’d freaked her out, but she scooted close, her breath along your ear sending shivers over your skin.

“How about three times for fuck yes?”

She ate your happy whimpers while she kissed you three times, catching your tears with her thumbs. You’d never felt the way you did when she looked at you, and you let yourself hope that it was true. That she was real. 

“See ya, cutie,” she winked, and you fought to stay calm, to act normal while you paid the bill, and walked to your apartment. 

You tried to pack, but couldn't care about what you grabbed. All you cared about were those three kisses, and the gift shop on the pier. 

Stuffing your guilt down deep, you decided not to risk saying goodbye to your sister. You’d call her when you called your clients. You’d call when you were free.

~~~

I should get her something. This’ll be our real anniversary.

Cheeks burning from suppressing your grin, you inspected every, single, tiny item in the store while you waited. You would have exploded if you’d waited at home, so you arrived a bit early, trying not to squeal while you searched for the perfect gift. 

“Don’t you think that one’s a bit tacky, niece?”

The rack of novelty shot glasses crashed to the floor when you stumbled into it, and the jarring sound shattered your hope that you were dreaming. 

“I apologize for my niece, she’s not well,” Uncle Cedrick charmed the shop worker, handing him a hefty wad of berry. “This should cover the damages, and my assistant has more for you outside, if you would allow us a few moments of privacy?”

The wide-eyed cashier didn’t hesitate when he saw all that berry, and you shook yourself enough to try to follow him out the door, but Uncle Cedrick stepped in your way, blocking your only path out of the tiny shop. 

“Where is she,” you seethed, not ready to know. 

“Oh, you mean that trash you called your girlfriend,” he taunted, reaching for your chin until you backed away. “We just had a quick chat in that disgusting apartment of hers, and she decided that she’d rather run away with some pocket change than with her little cutie.”

“She wouldn’t,” you breathed, sick fear taking your fire before you’d been able to use it. “What did you do to her?”

“Nothing at all, Y/N. If you'd like proof, we can head back to my office to watch the recording. I’m sure the surveillance snail captured just how little she cared about you. You should have seen her face light up when she saw the berry,” he scoffed while his eyes devoured you, gorging on every moment of weakness you showed.

It was just pretend. 

You couldn’t take it, so you didn’t, shoving all thoughts of your second “love” aside to focus on anything else.

“Surveillance snail… at her apartment,” you asked, feeling woozy. Going empty. Then freezing when he leaned over you, his twisted cocktail of smug condescension, and well-leashed anger barreling down on you.

“I may be humoring your little game of make believe, but that doesn’t change the fact that you are the heiress of Sylvad’s,” Uncle Cedrick threatened, finally taking a gentle grip on your chin.

You were too lost to pull away this time. 

“I will do anything to protect our family, including sending an army of snails to watch over you,” he smirked, invading your space even more to whisper his next words in your ear. “Although, I’m glad you haven’t spotted any yet, Y/N. I can only imagine what the doctor would say if you hurt–” 

“That was an accident,” you choked out, almost knocking over another rack of useless clutter to get away from him.

He straightened up, scanning the mess you’d made while fear left you shaking. 

“So many accidents… A pattern of behavior… Are you feeling well, niece?”

“I’m fine,” you almost purred. Your fear had taken the reins, shutting you down. You were still there, the strange sensation of floating slightly outside of your body, feeling your feelings as if they were diluted. A single drop of pain in a tub of numbing water.

Numb enough not to flinch when he put his arm around your shoulders, leading you outside, and into his stupid cedar carriage, with its stupid carvings of cedar trees.

A little laugh bubbled out of you once the carriage was moving, but you swallowed it down, catching the flare in his eyes at the sound.

“I didn't realize you enjoyed women.”

“I’m sorry,” you coughed, frustrated that you were coming back to reality so soon. 

“Nothing to be sorry about,” your uncle soothed, patting your knee. “You just need to remember your responsibilities. Marry a fitting man, and let him fuck a few Sylvad heirs out of you, but don’t worry, dear niece. You can keep as many mistresses as you like after you're married.”

He seemed so happy, so pleased. 

Does he really think he’s being generous?

 

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~~

 

“In fact,” Uncle Cedrick purred, tapping your nose, “since I robbed you of your plaything, why don’t I let you borrow one of mine? Security reported that you spent quite a bit of time with your tongue in that cheap whore’s cunt. I’m sure my little assistant can help to elevate your palate.”

That gentle rocking motion almost tipped the scale, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t throw up in your uncle’s favorite carriage. You couldn’t let him see you that weak.

Even though you both knew you were.

“What do you say? I’m sure she’ll–”

“No, thank you, Uncle Cedrick.”

“Hm, your loss, niece. Darla’s quite delectable,” he hummed, stretching his arms across the back of the cushioned bench.

 

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

 

“I think it would be best if you stayed with the family for a while. I’ll arrange transportation for that little bank hobby of yours.”

Lips parted. Then closed. Afraid of what might spill out. 

“Running away from your job and your family is extreme behavior, Y/N. I’m just concerned for your well being. I’d hate for you to—“

“I’m sorry, Uncle. I’ll be fine.”

“There’s my smarty.”

 

~~~⏰🌲🌲🌲⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🗡️🔴🤡🐊~~~

 

The clown forced himself to eat, listening to the slow taps of her silverware while she ate alone. 

He seethed, remembering the warning the servant had given at her request for privacy.

“Mr. Sylvad has stated that you may rest this evening, but stresses that you are expected to return to family duties tomorrow. He requested that I ask if you are feeling well, Miss—“

“I’m fine,” his star had lied. After that, all he’d heard was shuffling, a few polite hums from servants, then nothing but her body, until she let out a sigh. The empty sound made his chest ache.

“Why didn’t she trust her sister,” Buggy frowned, looking up at the men who were scouring his shitty notes while they ate.

They all stared, waiting. Buggy felt the pressure closing in around him. 

I bet they wish they could still beat this out of me.

The other men tensed when Buggy choked out a laugh, the tension winding tight around them all. A fragile new truce, a trust that had been destroyed before it was born, was building slowly between these pirates. Yet the clown could almost taste the potential for violence while he held the only link to the woman they loved. 

The villains not known for their patience or compassion had to balance their urge to bleed the world around them until they got what they wanted. 

Especially since that world now included a brave, little clown. 

“Why do you say that, Buggy,” Crocodile rasped, breathing out the rage his own helplessness had stoked. 

“She lied to her. They were alone, and Y/N still said she wants to be there. Wants to marry some fucking twat head—“

“Sylvad wasn’t there? Are you sure there weren’t any staff—“

“I’m fucking sure,” the clown snapped at Sir Crocodile, his breath freezing in his lungs until the larger man nodded. 

“Of course. I know you’ve got her.”

Ice melted, leaving Buggy speechless until his red haired lover chimed in. 

“Maybe she's lying to protect her sister. From your notes it sounds like Sylvad was trying to sell Kat too. That could be why Y/N's going along with him.”

“That’s a possibility,” Mihawk drawled, still scanning the rumpled pages. “Or perhaps Kathryn Sylvad isn’t a trustworthy confidant. Y/N didn’t seem… well after their conversation the other day, and from what I heard, it seemed as though her dear sister were urging her to go back to him.”

“But she apologized,” Buggy coughed, swallowing too fast so he could counter the point. “It seems like they’re both trapped by Uncle ShitLick.”

“Not all apologies are worthy of trust,” Mihawk breathed, stopping his hunt to meet Buggy’s gaze. “It's the actions that follow that show the truth of those words. I believe that’s how this thing works, isn’t it?”

The clown was speechless again, but this time with a crooked smile as he watched the swordsman dive back into the crumpled pages.

“Our girl might be afraid of someone listening in,” Crocodile mused, his deep voice catching all of their attention.

“Buggy said they were alone,” Shanks defended, cocking his head at the ex-Warlord. He still couldn’t tell if the man was scowling at him, or if that was just how his face normally looked. 

“Sylvad’s paranoid,” Crocodile grumbled, setting a note down so he wouldn’t crush it. “He’s got all that security, and marines on fucking standby when he travels, but he came all the way here in person to get her back.”

The other pirates held their breaths before jumping in, letting the man with the most violence radiating from him finish his thought first.

“He needs her for whatever fucking plans he’s got, and I don’t think Sylvad is gonna let her out of his sight for a second after she almost got away. I wouldn’t either. I’d watch her like a…”

Shame had become physical, almost visible as it filled the air around them.

“Like a hawk,” Mihawk spat, closing his eyes against the self loathing that had crawled back to the surface. “I listened to her. I told her I was. She–”

“Hey, crybaby,” Buggy taunted, sending a floating hand to squeeze the swordsman’s cheeks together. His body felt electric, as though speaking with the golden eyed man were some death defying feat. It had always been deadly, and the clown smirked at the thought that he might just be an adrenaline junkie. 

Mihawk didn’t answer, though his eyes showed enough danger for Buggy to release him before continuing. 

“Moping’s not gonna help her,” he scolded, glancing at Crocodile before floating his upper body to glower over the swordsman. “You were monsters, but you said you’re sorry. Now prove it.”

Shanks smiled, pleasure and pride filling his veins while he watched them. He nodded at Crocodile, whose scowl seemed to be fading, bit by bit. 

The clown kissed the ex-Warlords, just a press of bare lips to the scarred man's cheek, and the swordsman's forehead, before floating back. The Emperor sidelined him, pulling him from the air to steal his own kiss before he could bring his body together again. 

A moment of peace.

Swiftly broken.

“We’re not monsters to her anymore,” Crocodile reasoned, her last words to him blaring through his mind, “but our sweet girl might not know that. She might still think we’ll use her, that we’ll hurt her.”

“Not Buggy, though,” Mihawk soothed, remembering all that blood on the floor. “Even if our darling doesn’t want monsters like us, I know she’d rather be with our little clown than to waste away in that prison of a life.”

“She loves you, Bugs,” Shanks hummed, rubbing his hand along the clown’s back.

“Of course she does,” Buggy agreed, listening to the sacred music of her heart. He looked up at his Executives, surprised at how much he wanted to make them smile. “I’m pretty sure she likes you guys too.”

Silver and gold eyes brightened before Buggy glanced at the soft, brown ones beside him. 

“Not sure about you, though. I think your charm has finally worn off.”

Buggy’s tease stirred up that sea of guilt, and Shanks had to steel himself not to sink back into it. 

I really hope it didn’t. I’m gonna need it.

 

~~~🗡️🔴🤡🐊~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

As much as you had needed to see your sister, you were grateful that she’d given you space. 

I might never have a moment to myself again. 

That thought had been a lot more fun the last time you had it. 

All the feelings you’d held at bay started trickling in, and you knew the only way to fight it was to remind yourself what it was. 

It was all pretend.

It was just for daydreams. 

Now I’ve got enough lovely daydreams to last a long, boring lifetime.

Hours must have gone by. You probably could have estimated the time if you’d counted your breaths.

Instead, you counted everything else. Counted, multiplied, divided. So many meaningless math problems to help you pass the time until it felt late enough.

Floating through the suite, you opened every drawer, peeked behind every curtain, and stared at the floral wallpaper until you were sure there was nothing but flowers.

Almost sure. 

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🌲🌲🌲⏰~~~

 

“Such good, little toys,” Mihawk praised, though you hardly heard it with his cock slamming down your throat. He fisted your hair, growling for you to look at him, and his deadly eyes filled with twisted satisfaction as he trailed his thumb over your cheekbone. His cock pulsed along your tongue when he drank your tears from his skin, and the sight sent you spasming again, your body clenching tight around the man behind you.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re squeezing Daddy’s cock so fucking hard.”

Too much. Never enough. 

They held you bent between them, fucking through you so deep it felt like they’d meet in the middle, crushing you with pleasure. 

“Our little vixen was built for this, weren’t you? We’re going to fucking ruin you, and you’ll keep begging for more. Gods, you look gorgeous choking on me like that, rabbit… Clown, are you still taking care of our darling?”

“Y-yeah, I’ve got her,” Buggy whined, his hand still floating under your body, fingers teasing your clit.

Helping them wreck you. 

“And what about you,” Mihawk taunted, though his voice was starting to strain.

“You’re taking us so well,” Crocodile praised, tracing his hand down your back while the other men spoke. “So proud of my sweet girl— Mm, there ya go, babydoll. Keep coming for Daddy.”

“I’m impressed, toy,” the wicked swordsman purred. “Pleasuring our darling and yourself while she gets destroyed, and you still haven’t made a mess? What do you think, sandman? Does the clown deserve to help us?”

“You talk too much,” Crocodile growled, and you saw stars as he held your hip in place while he tore you apart, taking you over, making your body his. 

You were already gone, flying further away with every brutal, overwhelming sensation.

“Let’s drown her.”

Buggy’s fingers on your clit, Crocodile’s cock splitting you open, and Mihawk’s vicious assault on your throat. 

Perfect. Nothing fucking like it. 

They held you still while they stuffed you full, the heat of their come filling you so much it almost hurt, but you didn’t want it to stop. 

“My star.”

You weren’t sure that you’d heard that soft voice while he marked you, spilling so much come across your back, dripping down your hips. 

“You’re lucky our darling needs our full attention,” Mihawk threatened. His now gentle hands wiped you clean, helping you lay down, soothing your needy whimpers.

“You couldn’t protect her. No matter how much we let you play, she’ll never be yours again,” Crocodile reminded, his fingers tensing against your skin when you couldn’t hold in a broken, little noise. 

“Buggy…”

The two ex-Warlords surrounded you, shushing and soothing, kissing down your body while they apologized for scaring you. 

And you were wrecked and selfish enough to let it work, sinking into their touch, their praise. 

It was wrong.

But it felt too fucking good to let these villains take care of you. They ruined you, then treated you like precious treasure.

You had never felt more cared for than you did in the clutches of these Cross Guild villains. 

 

~~~⏰🌲🌲🌲⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

No . It was just pretend. They were pretending! Just like…

Your daydream had given you the release you needed while you stayed as still as you could beneath the covers, your face shoved down into the mattress after you’d accidentally whispered your clown’s name, wishing his fingers could still find you. 

Then you were lost, spinning down into dangerous memories. Letting yourself pretend they cared would be unbearable.

They wanted to own me. I wanted to let them. 

You groaned, freeing your hand to shake out the cramp you’d earned from the restricted position. 

In the end, you hadn’t wanted them to own you. Not really. Not like this. It would have made it too hard to pretend they cared, and you had clung to that for too long. 

It was pretend, and now I have daydreams to pass the time. 

You just needed to stop the daydreams before the parts when they pretended to care too much. Choking on that new rule, you forced yourself to wash your face, avoiding your own eyes while you swallowed more useless tears to keep from drowning in them. 

They would have dried your tears, soothed them, tasted them. Aching need almost dropped you to the bathroom floor, slumping over yourself while you dug your nails into your thighs, hiding your quiet rage. 

Get your fucking shit together!

The mirror finally caught you. Empty eyes stared back, and you would have slipped into that distant place, if not for the glint of silver over your heart. 

It was all pretend. Just throw it away. 

Eons passed before you could move, and your body ached from its time as an unwilling statue, but you didn’t take it off. Everything was gone, everything in your world was empty, but for this pretty locket that was missing its key. You brought it to your lips, leaving a kiss for a life that might have been. 

Maybe some love is real after all. That’s nice to know… Even if someone like me can never have it.

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

Notes:

I hope you enjoyed the chapter! My health and work situations are still all sorts of chaos, but this is my favorite thing to do, so hopefully I'll have enough spoons to get back my usual time between updates!

I want to thank all of you so much for your incredible support. I'm still having a hard time responding to things one on one, but I see and read everything, and your kindness and lols have genuinely helped me through all this yuck. You have my heart! 💜

Also, everybody please thank my partner for Mihawk's and reader's notes! Lol, I already had shitty handwriting before my medication gave me shaky hands, so Buggy's was the only one I could actually write 😅

Chapter 30: I’m Coming for You

Summary:

You spend some quality time with your family while you learn about the wedding plans. The boys make some plans of their own.

Notes:

Thank you for waiting, and for all the love on the chapters! Love y'all so much!! 🙏🏼💜😭 There is a flashback scene within this chapter that involves another panic attack/dissociation episode similar to what we've seen from the reader before. I'll bracket it with these symbols: ~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

 

~

Alternate POV Symbols:
🌲 ~ Reader | 🐊 ~ Crocodile | 🗡 ~ Mihawk | 🤡 ~ Buggy | 🔴 ~ Shanks | ⏰ ~ Flashbacks for listed POV | ⚫ ~ Scenes depicting Dark Content as listed in Author's Notes

Extras:
Ongoing Series Playlist ~ YouTube Music Link ~ YouTube Link

~~~🗡️🔴🤡🐊~~~

 

Fighting the urge to ask how Y/N was doing had Crocodile tapping the side of his hook against his thigh, harder and harder, until his little prince shot him a look. He cleared his throat, downing his scotch before interrupting the other men in their various perches around the suite. 

The night had dragged on. Dinner, drinks, then more drinks, had all passed while the four men reviewed every note, rehashed every theory, and tried not to ask Buggy about his star. 

“Couldn’t get anything on the doctor tonight, but I put out some feelers. Let me know if you hear anymore details–”

“You got it boss,” Buggy agreed, although his voice wasn’t holding much. Adrift and empty while he laid on his back, his floating hands held page after page above his tired eyes. 

The scarred man took a breath, pushing himself up from the loveseat to head toward his dresser, removing his hook before he kept hitting things with it. 

“I also offered some former officers a position in the Guild if they can bring us any useful intel on him or Sylvad.”

“Officers,” Mihawk asked, appearing beside the larger man to take over unbuttoning his silk vest. 

Crocodile felt his lips twitch up, the hint of a smile as the swordsman fussed over him. 

“Yeah. I didn’t wanna bring them on after… I’m glad Daz Bonez followed me here. He’s shown skill, competence, loyalty.” 

The ex-Warlord let out a sigh when long, wicked fingers traced over his now bare chest. 

“Galdino’s shown that he might not be as much of a coward as I’d thought, but I still wouldn’t send him out without a partner. As for the rest of the Baroque Works failures, I would have happily forgotten about that worthless cafe of theirs if we didn’t need all the help we can get right now.”

“How big of you,” Mihawk purred, his teasing eyes bringing a laugh from his frightening business partner. 

The swordsman felt drugged. The guilt, pain, and rage he carried for his tortured darling filled his body every moment, but there was something else pouring in. 

He was high. 

Mihawk had always taken care of his lovers. It made wrecking them magnificently more fun, but now he couldn’t seem to stop. Today, he’d drawn smiles and laughs from his three lovers while they all fought for his fourth, and each moment steadied him. 

This is what I was running from? Caring if someone else is happy?

His reverie crashed hard, the next words uttered in the room bringing them all to attention.

“I’m gonna call Sylvad in the morning,” Shanks announced, leaving his seat on the coffee table to join his clown on the floor, while the eyes of the Cross Guild burned into him. 

“I think I’ll—“

“We don’t have enough yet, moron,” Buggy scolded, shoving him a little harder than he meant to. “Star’s gotta have a reason. She would have told me… Your stupid card is our only opening right now. Don’t be a fucking idiot and give away our best shot.”

“I know, Bugs, but I–”

“I agree,” Mihawk cut in, all of his feelings brought back to her, and the danger and distance between them. “We can’t waste that opportunity until—“

“Why now?”

Crocodile’s voice made the room pause, that deep, gravely sound doing almost as much as the blunt, yet inquisitive tone. He stared at the prettyboy, giving him a chance to explain.

Shanks straightened up, offering the larger man a crooked smile for the chance to prove himself.

To make it up to her. 

“Sylvad’s bringing all those men there to marry Y/N,” he started, smoothing his hand over Buggy’s arm when his clown started grumbling. “Sounds like he wants to make some sort of deal, wants powerful ‘friends.’ What if—“

“Of course,” breathed the swordsman, dangerous eyes flicking between the other men. 

“Can you do it, Red Hair,” Crocodile urged. “Can you play the villain?”

“What the fuck are you talking about,” Buggy growled. He’d finally heard his star move. It felt like hours had passed after dinner, but she’d stayed so quiet. 

She hadn’t been sleeping, she’d just been... still. It had been wearing on him, but now Buggy could hear her body moving around, slowly, but more than that frozen emptiness that had chilled his heart. 

He could hardly think in the room he was in, until Shanks grabbed his shoulder, drawing him in with those soft, brown eyes. 

“I’m gonna charm the sea beast, Bugs,” he whispered, fear and hope tingling through him. “I’ll make him want to cut deal with me, so he’ll let me—“

“MARRY HER,” the clown almost screamed, everything in this room becoming crystal fucking clear. “You’re gonna marry my—“

“Bugs, baby, hey. We’re gonna get her out of there before the wedding, okay,” Shanks soothed, trying to exude the confidence he used to have. This Emperor of the Sea didn’t think he’d return to his old self until he saw Y/N’s empty eyes filled with light again. 

Those empty eyes had branded guilt onto his heart, and he refused to mope about it for the rest of his days. He found Crocodile waiting for him again, so he answered that frightening man’s question. 

“I was already a villain to her,” he confessed, knowing that he couldn’t stop now. Nothing would stop him from fixing this. From protecting her. 

“I owe her,” Shanks vowed, showing Buggy the truth in his eyes. “I’ll do anything to get her back. Even become a monster.”

 

~~~🗡️🔴🤡🐊~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

Waking up. 

You were not a fan. 

Servants were already milling about in your room, and you wished that screaming at them was an acceptable hobby. Instead, you gave in, letting strangers dress you, do your hair, your makeup. 

The way he liked it. 

“Pros and cons,” you muttered to yourself while they ushered you through gilded corridors. They fucking announced you at the door, as though your own family didn’t know your name.

“Oh, Y/N,” your mother cried out while she ran to you, gripping you into a tight hug. Her wheezing sobs had you shushing and soothing her until you pulled away with a strained smile and empty words, finding your seat next to Kat. 

Uncle Cedrick sat at the head of the table, with your mom and sister on either side, lording over the little family he owned. He smirked at your mom while she settled beside him, before playing with you all again. 

“You can’t begin to imagine what you’ve put your mother through all these months, dear niece,” he scolded, slow to pull his gleaming eyes from her to you. “Making her worry all this time, and now you hardly have a word to say?”

“I…” 

I’m out of fucking practice. It’s time for the less fun kind of pretend.

Forever.

“I’m just so glad you’re home safe, sweetie,” Mom crooned, still dabbing at her eyes, though she was already quiet. Uncle Cedrick never did care for crying in any of his massive homes, even though he enjoyed the lead up so very much.

“It’s just as the doctor warned, Delaine,” your uncle cautioned, smiling at you over his latte. “Your daughter isn’t well. We should always be prepared for this sort of selfish behavior.”

“Can we not? I haven’t even finished my coffee yet,” Kat sneered while she grabbed a piece of toast. She spread the jam thinly, yet evenly, over the bread how you liked, before forcing it into your hand, glaring until you took a bite. 

Don’t cry. 

Eating when you were upset was hard, the heavy emotions seeming to take over your body. You never wanted to be weak, so you made sure to eat enough, even when your appetite was gone, but sometimes a reminder helped. 

Your sister had always been your reminder. 

“Thank you,” you breathed before giving Delaine Sylvad your full attention. “I’m sorry I put you through so much, mom. I–”

“Y/N, I’m more concerned about what you put yourself through,” she began, that familiar tone of a ‘disappointed Mom scolding,’ about to play out. “I know you’ve always run from your blessings, but to put yourself in harm’s way like that? They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

“She’s perfectly fine,” Uncle Cedrick cut you off, patting her shoulder. “Our little Y/N seemed to have charmed those filthy pirates. I can’t imagine how.”

“Apologies for the interruption sir.”

A practically quivering servant had stepped up beside him, and your uncle just stared, a maniacal tilt to his head while he watched the man sweat. 

“I’m so sorry to intrude, sir. However, you've received a call. It’s one of the names on your priority list–”

“Are they still connected,” Uncle asked, already pushing away from his half eaten breakfast to follow the servant out of the room. He didn’t say goodbye, except to poke his head back through the door before leaving. “Delaine, I expect you’ll get your daughter prepared for polite society? Gods know you’ll have your work cut out for you.”

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🗡️🔴🤡🐊~~~

 

The whole concept of marriage is fucking stupid . Just another shackle the World Government tries to tie us all down with. 

Gotta keep the shidiots all bored, and struggling to pay rent for the shoeboxes they’re allowed to fuck their legally recognized, orgasm partners in, otherwise they might have too much fucking fun. 

And too much fun usually means hopping on a pirate, or their ship. Whichever gives the better ride. 

Buggy almost made himself laugh with his internal rant, but Shanks’ confidence, and the almost nauseating amount of beauty on that earnest face, sobered the clown. No matter how hard he tried, his mind refused to stop blaring those words. 

Marry her. Marry her? He’s gonna marry her. She’s gonna marry… My star wouldn’t want... It’s just pretend. Doesn’t matter. Marriage is pointless anyway, it doesn't mean anything. 

He gave his old friend a weak smile, lost in those faint, faraway sounds. She was so quiet, yet he could hear endless shuffling, the soft sounds of moving fabric, drawers opening and closing, and that anxious heartbeat. 

The clown wanted to ignore his own feelings until he got her out. He wanted to be her hero, and nothing else. 

The red haired pirate had stolen one of his hands, that overwhelming charm spilling out while he pressed warm lips to gloved fingers. Buggy couldn’t stop the poison from filling his gut, and climbing up his throat like bile. 

Shanks is the hero, not me. 

Familiar jealousy turned rancid after all these years as it mixed with all the fear and guilt for the heartbeat in his head. 

“If you marry my star, I’ll fucking skin you,” he whispered, trying not to break apart and float away. 

“Buggy.” Shanks’ voice came out sweet and shocked, his face softening while he watched his lover struggle. “I fucked up, Bugs. I hurt you, and I hurt Y/N. Please, let me help her. It’s your call, alright?”

Old pain had poured into new wounds, but as the clown counted to ten, he remembered her smile. 

You love me, don’t you, star? I’m sorry, baby. I almost forgot. 

“Don’t fuck it up, idiot,” Buggy ordered, the gleam in his eyes making Shanks’ breath catch. He almost sobbed with relief when his clown accepted his warmth, his touch, his kiss. 

Crocodile and Mihawk had already climbed into bed, sitting up against the headboard while they re-read the pile of notes, although the view had distracted them both. Mihawk curled up against that massive chest, the two villains watching their clown kiss the hero. 

“Why don’t we get some rest,” Crocodile rasped, setting the rumpled pages on the nightstand. “Now that we have something we can fucking do tomorrow, we should get our heads right.”

“Come on, baby,” Shanks hummed. The effort it took to pull away from that kiss left him shaky, but he couldn’t be selfish again, not if he was going to get her back. “Gotta keep your strength up for her.”

Buggy let himself be dragged toward the bed, let Shanks help him undress, settling under the covers. Soothing hands, soothing whispers, too much. 

“She’s still awake,” he breathed. Mihawk turned to ice against his chest, the room once again filling with the unspoken demands to share her every moment. The clown groaned, fighting not to break into pieces to escape the comfort of that massive bed. 

It shouldn’t have felt comfortable without her warmth beside him. 

“I can’t sleep yet, what if she–” 

“Bugs?”

I know that breathing.

The clown couldn’t keep track of the barrage of emotions those tiny sounds burned him with. She was so muffled, so quiet. So fucking perfect.

But she didn’t know he was listening. 

“What’s wrong,” Mihawk demanded softly, this helplessness making him sick.

“I…” Buggy was dizzy with need and guilt, disgusted with how eager his body was for his star in her lonely prison.

“Buggy,” Crocodile breathed, violence seeping through his skin. “Tell us what’s happening.”

It’s wrong. I won’t use her. Won't hurt her. Can’t–

‘Buggy…’

“Star,” he cried out, reacting to her strangled moan as though it were his body bringing that beautiful sound from her lips. His back arched almost painfully, eyes rolling white, as need pulsed through his veins. He was achingly hard, and so fucking ready to take care of her, to give her what she needed. “Fuck, baby…”

Then he let out a frustrated sob, covering his face with his hands while his other lovers reached for him. 

“What’s–”

“I believe our little rabbit is taking care of herself,” Mihawk whispered, soothing the larger man’s growing anger, leaving silver eyes to blink slowly at their little clown. 

“She’s so quiet,” Buggy trembled, his lips and jaw tensing while he swallowed the heat in his throat. “She’s all alone. I shouldn’t be–”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Shanks rasped, breathing along Buggy’s neck while he pulled his clown against him. “You’re gonna save her. She said your name, didn’t she, Bugs?”

“B-but she doesn’t…”

“Breathe, little clown,” Crocodile’s deep voice washed over Buggy while his large fingers brushed the hair from his face. 

Mihawk rested his cheek against Buggy’s chest, feeling the rhythm of that frantic heart against his skin while he fought not to pull closer, to reach for the need he knew he’d find. 

“It’s not right.”

“I know, Bugs,” Shanks purred, slipping into the voice that Buggy could never resist, and just the sound of it brought a little whine from the clown’s throat. “You’ll say sorry after you save her, alright? But she just said your name. Your pretty star still wants to please you, Buggy. Remember when she said that? When I made her come on my fingers, but she only had eyes for you? She’s so good for you, huh, baby?”

“F-fuck,” Buggy gasped, finally gripping his swollen cock while he listened to Y/N’s lovely breath. 

I’ve got you, star. I’ll help you. I’ll make you feel…

He almost lost himself in it, until the sound of the nightstand drawer closing brought him back to reality. That lovely breath was far away from him, trapped in a cage. 

“She craves you, Buggy,” Mihawk hummed. The swordsman pressed soft kisses against Buggy’s chest while he rolled onto his back, gasping when that sharp tongue teased around his nipples. The clown opened his mouth, but whatever he might have said faded away when Shanks grabbed his hand, making him fist his own cock again while hushed praises filled the air. 

“Our sweet girl said no one can make her feel the way you can,” Crocodile rasped, tossing an extra towel to the other side of the bed. He spread his legs a bit, massaging his balls before slowly dragging his fingers up and down his length while he remembered that pretty show, and the mess he’d left on her perfect face. “Why don’t you tell us how you’re gonna take care of her when you bring her home?”

“What,” the clown choked out. Opening his eyes was almost as overwhelming as the distant, needy sounds he was hearing. Three, dangerous lovers watched him while they held themselves, gorgeous, heavy cocks freed to the air. “What are you doing?”

“She needs you, Bugs,” Shanks smirked, scraping his bottom lip through his teeth at the delicious sight before him. “That means you need to take care of yourself, alright? Now, do you wanna tell us how you’re gonna make your star come, or do you want one of us to guess?”

Y/N had paused a few times, muffled breaths slowing before her heart fought for relief. Buggy had to get to her, to save her from that shitty, suffocating life. Had to make his star laugh, and smile, and scream, until she was the last fucking star in the sky. 

“Sh-she’s so sweet,” Buggy groaned, a collective sigh filling the air as his consent let them all give in. “Gonna suck her clit like candy. Her pretty thighs squeeze my head so fucking hard when I do that.”

“Fuck,” Mihawk rasped. His mind’s eye made the vision so clear that he begged for more. “What next?”

Buggy caught those wild, golden eyes, and Y/N’s needy moans set him free. 

“Then you’re gonna hold her down for me, and choke her while I fuck her with my tongue. She tastes even sweeter the deeper you get.”

“You fuck our girl so well, little clown,” Crocodile purred over Mihawk’s desperate whine, gifting Buggy with a hungry smile, “and she loves watching you get fucked. Her sweet, little pussy squeezed my cock so fucking hard when you let this one tear you open.”

Buggy and Mihawk twitched while delicious memories on this giant bed tore through them.

“She’s close,” he shivered, chills rolling with pleasure across his body. “She’s fucking perfect. I don’t care where we are, when I save my girl, I’m gonna fuck her into the ground, gonna make her pretty eyes cross, gonna fuck– fuuuck… Gods, star…”

Each of these men found their pleasure in their own hands, yet the sounds and memories of each other were so good that they almost went too far, but she was always there.

Messy, noisy relief was found as four, sticky men kissed the taste of sweat from each other's skin before towels were passed around. Yet, the relaxation those blissful moments brought was tainted by her absence.

Y/N's men fell asleep in each other’s arms, but knew that they’d never truly relax again. Not until their numbers girl was curled up between them.

 

~~~🗡️🔴🤡🐊~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🌲🌲🌲⏰~~~

 

“Mom, please.”

“It’s just dinner, sweetie."

“I don’t want to have dinner with another creep,” you spat, pulling away from her fingers while she toyed with your hair. 

A familiar rage burned through you, that you were learning fast how to swallow down. 

But not fast enough. 

“They’re not all creeps,” Mom sighed, and her voice was still like nails on a chalkboard against the overwhelm inside you since Dad… since your world changed. “That’s why I'm helping you with this, honey. I’m helping you look for a husband that will treat you well, so you can be taken care of.”

“I’m sixteen,” you fumed, disgust making you snarl at her. “I don’t want to live your boring life. It’s not my fault that dad never loved you guys, so why don't—“

A soft, wounded noise snapped your attention to the open doorway, your little sister’s wide eyes going watery. Shame doused your rage faster than a tub of ice water. 

You ran, chasing her dainty steps through the hall until she ducked into a spare room, and you caught the door with your foot before it could slam shut. 

“I’m so sorry, Kat, I didn’t mean it!” Self loathing dragged you down, fighting between panic at the pain in your little sister’s eyes, and the nausea that your selfishness had stirred up. 

“Don’t lie,” she quivered, clearly holding in her sobs to keep that fierce look on her face. “And I don’t want you to marry one of those jerks either.”

“Thank you,” you choked out a laugh after you closed the door, plopping down in front of her. She joined you on the floor, sad sisters hiding in another darkened room. “We don’t need to live like mom, okay? There’s a whole other world out there. No more leeches.”

Kat snorted at your favorite nickname for them. It became more disgustingly accurate the more time you spent with those so-called suitors, and their pushy families.

At least there was one other person in your world that saw them for what they were, but she sighed again, her hands going limp in yours.

“Dad did love you though,” Kat breathed. The words crushed your heart, and that cruel truth was a stain that could never be wiped clean. “Maybe someone else will love you too…”

Exhaustion ate at you, no more energy to try to shape the world the way you needed it to be. 

“Maybe. I don’t know who could love an annoying sister like me though.”

“Shut up,” she scoffed, wrinkling her nose at you. You fell into being a sister again, and the desire to make things a little better for her sake woke you up. “Besides, if you don’t like your date, you can just bore him with math problems, or break his ankle when you dance, or—“

“Hey,” you laughed, trapping her arms in a struggling hug. “Speaking of math problems, don’t you have that test coming up?”

“Ugh, you’re so lame,” she teased, crawling out from your grasp to open the door, blinding you with the light from the hallway. “Come on. I’ll read you my practice test while mom does your hair, but only if you promise not to chew her face off.”

“Seems like a shit deal to me,” you smirked as you followed her out, chuckling at her panicked search for any ears that could have heard you speak so foul on such a lovely day. 

“There you are, sweetie,” Mom hummed when you returned, with Kat already rattling off word problems at your side. You let her guide you, sitting you down in front of the vanity, while all of your edges went fuzzy.

Mom’s careful touch always made you look like a perfect, doll-like version of yourself before sending you out on a date.

Not really a date. More like a test drive for the hopeful buyer. 

Your eyes got lost in the mirror, the image of a perfect doll reminding you of pretty boxes, all wrapped up. 

“Unboxed,” a feral voice giggled, but you couldn’t pull yourself all the way back into the room to acknowledge the tension on their faces. All you could do was slump into the chair, mumbling about your pros and cons. 

“Sis,” Kat whispered, and the part of you that was still aware floated above your shoulder, screaming at you to stop, to not let her see.

“Kat, go tell Oliver to fetch your sister’s tea, please.”

“But—“

“Gotta buy the doll before you take her out of the box.”

Your head lolled back with laughter now, missing some of the real world. 

“Mom, why can’t she wait? It’s only been—“

“She’ll be fine, angel. Your sister just needs help. Don’t worry—“

“Don’t worry,” you cackled while you rubbed your hands over your face, smearing lipstick down your chin. "It’s just dolls! Just pretend. Just a brokendollbrokendoll. But mom’s got glue!”

Kat had more tears flowing down her cheeks, but you couldn’t stop yourself, until your mother’s soothing voice pierced through your heart.

“Y/N, sweetie. You’re not feeling well. Do I need to call for the doctor?”

You hadn’t come back, and you hadn’t gotten better, but you had gone quiet and still.

The way dolls are supposed to be.

The only movement you could manage was the slow, shallow breathing that kept you alive, until your mom brought spoonfuls of lukewarm tea to pour over your tongue, your body choosing to swallow.  

“I’m so sorry, sweetie,” Mom whispered while she cleaned up the mess you’d made of your face. “I just want you to be alright. Please, let me help you.”

A soft whine left your throat once you were able to look around, realizing that you’d missed when Kat had left. 

“None of this is your fault,” Mom soothed, kissing your temple before laying a fresh coat of makeup on your skin. “But you’re not well, honey. You need to let people take care of you.”

 

~~~⏰🌲🌲🌲⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

“Shouldn’t I pick a spouse before I pick a dress,” you drawled, tracing your fingers over the rack of perfectly tailored wedding dresses your mom had ordered to be wheeled in. 

Mom had declared that the suite across the hall from yours and Kat’s was to be wedding prep central, presumably so she could snatch you out of bed at a moment’s notice for whatever life altering decision was next on the list. 

“I’d adore that, honey,” she frowned, holding up another pale shade of fabric against your skin. “I hope you’ll be taking your future seriously this time. I’m sure that we can find a good match for you. There’s a variety of suitors—”

Kat snorted, stepping out to spin in a gorgeous, bridesmaid dress. 

“Your ‘husband catalog’ is on the dresser if you want to start there.”

“Can I have a drink first,” you joked, only breaking your heart a little bit more. 

The pause surprised you, especially when Mom’s warm hand cupped your cheek.

“Why don't I order us some mimosas? This doesn’t have to be a chore, sweetie.”

“I… okay,” you breathed, wishing you could take all the comfort her voice promised, but it had been too long for that. Still, you were here. It was over. 

“Come on, nerd,” Kat ordered after slipping out of the dress, and into a monogrammed robe to match yours, in an elegant shade of green, of course. “Let’s make some bar graphs, or would pie charts be better to rank the hottest hubby?”

“Shut up— what the fuck,” you gave a real laugh before picking up the heavy binder, flashing your eyes toward your mom while she walked toward the door. “How many suitors do I have?”

“Don’t worry, sweetie,” she laughed, pausing to open the door and order drinks. A proud smile pulled at her lips when she joined you and Kat on the large couch, taking the binder from you. “It’s heavy because I gathered as much information as I could. You do have a lot to choose from though, plus there might be…”

Kat mirrored your exasperated look when Mom trailed off, and you cracked a smile. 

At least I have Kat.

“There might be what,” Kat asked while you tried to hang onto as much lightness as you could. 

“We have so much to take care of.” Mom shook her head, trailing her fingers over your book of buyers. “The banquet’s in two days, you'll be meeting most of your suitors then, although there might be a few newcomers that I haven’t had the chance to add to your list yet. They’ll all be spending time here, and most will be staying at the estate during the…”

You didn’t need to ask about her pause, as she cleared her throat, nodding at the violence in your eyes.

“It’s supposed to be fun, dear, it’s—“

Apparently you did need to ask.

“During the what, mom,” you waited, wishing the mimosas would hurry the fuck up. 

“The games, sweetie,” she simpered, the words sinking in too slow. “Since they’re all here to compete for your hand, that makes it a game, doesn’t it? You have a month to pick your match, and they’ll—“

“Take turns playing with Uncle’s, little doll,” you spat, ripping the stupid binder from her careful fingers. “I’d like a break from you, mom. Kat will make sure I look for my new owner.”

“Sweetie, I don’t think—“

“You know, I still have to decide, right,” you purred, sick pleasure pouring through you while you threatened your mother. “You don’t get your inheritance unless I become the heir, and decide to release it to you. So why don’t you go get me my fucking drink, and then go back to following Uncle around like a trained dog. His favorite, little bitch still wants her own berry, don’t you, mom?”

Kat had gone still beside you, but said nothing, Mom’s gaze flicking uselessly between you. 

“Y/N, I—“

“Sorry, Mom! You know how brides get,” you laughed, wicked and wrong. “Uncle ordered you to get me ready, so why don’t you fetch me my drink, and get the fuck out of my sight so I can focus? Maybe there’s someone else’s daughter you can whore out with all of your free time?”

She was shaking, but your mother was too good at pretending for you to read all of the emotions behind her wide, calculating eyes. 

Mom stood gracefully, and almost made it to the door, before freezing at your icy voice. 

“You know, mom, all these wedding jitters have been making me nervous. I’d feel a lot calmer if you tasted everything for me.”

“What are you—“ 

Delaine Sylvad turned to look over her shoulder, with not a drop of motherly concern on her face.

“I won’t be eating or drinking anything for the next month unless I watch you taste it first. You do want me to cooperate, right, mom?”

She nodded, but you looked down at the binder, flipping through the pages for a moment before glancing back up. 

“Move along now. The bride is thirsty,” you dismissed with a wave of your hand. Your guilt was drowning under the sick satisfaction you felt at making that pretend smile leave the room. 

“Sis…”

“I’m sorry, Kat,” you sighed, wishing you could have enjoyed your villainy without forcing her to see it. 

“Don’t be,” she assured, scooting closer to look over the first dossier with you. “Mom deserved that.”

You couldn’t say 'thank you,' so you just leaned against her while your throat went hot, clearing the mist from your eyes before you could study the picture of the first potential husband. 

“Hey, he’s cute,” Kat praised, snagging a notebook and pen from the coffee table. “Should we rank them on hotness first?”

“What are you talking about,” you snorted, pulling the image closer. “Look at his clothes! And what’s with his hair? He looks ridiculous!”

“Says the girl that fucked a clown— Oh my gods, I’m so sorry, Y/N! I shouldn’t have said that!”

“No, it’s okay,” you laughed, fidgeting with that heavy locket. 

The bittersweet pain almost felt good, and you tried not to let the fact that he could still make you laugh make you cry. 

“This guy’s got nothing on Buggy’s style though.”

“I missed you,” Kat confessed after joining your much needed giggles.

“I missed you too, sis. Help me find the least shitty leech?” 

“No settling,” she ordered, thumping her fist on the heavy pages. “There has to be at least one Prince Charming in this giant book.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

Flipping through the pages left you feeling empty, but not as horribly, painfully empty as you could have been in this calm moment. 

“Mom said there might be more, too,” Kat soothed, that awkward lilt to her voice showing how hard she was trying to stay light for you. “Maybe your Prince Charming just isn’t on the guest list yet.”

The names you wanted to appear on that list echoed through your mind, and you had to hold your breath to stop the fantasies that would only make this harder. 

“Two days until the banquet… let’s make some graphs.”

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

 

“Good morning, Shanks. I didn’t expect pirates to be working so early.”

“Come on, Cedrick. Who said anything about working,” Shanks purred, propping his feet up on Mihawk’s desk. The lounge was empty, but he could practically feel those listening ears. “I’m just looking to make some fashionable friends, remember?”

The pleased laughter through the snail almost made Shanks gag. Buggy’s notes, and rage, and the emptiness in Y/N’s eyes, left this Emperor of the Sea almost paralyzed with guilt and disgust.

He had to get over it. Play the villain.

For her.

“I have to say, you have impeccable timing.”

“How’s that,” Shanks asked, his body tensing with anxiety, fighting to keep his voice loose.

“I’m holding an event in a couple of days,” Cedrick drawled, a rhythmic sound coming through the call, as though his fingers were tapping close to the snail. “It’ll be discreet, just a gathering of worthy friends. I’m sure you’ll enjoy the festivities, and we’ll have plenty of time to discuss what our friendship might entail… I’d be happy to host you if you can make it in time.”

“What’s the dress code? I’d hate to stand out—“

“I’m sure my tailors could whip something up for you,” he chuckled, both of their voices mixing like sweet, heavy cream. “What do you say, Shanks? Should I add you to the guest list?”

The red haired pirate couldn’t remember feeling this panicked. 

He couldn’t seem too eager. Couldn’t risk him thinking he was too connected to the Cross Guild.

He couldn’t fuck this up.

“It’s in a couple of days, you said,” Shanks risked a muffled yawn. “That’s pretty last minute.”

“True,” Cedrick agreed lightly. 

He gets everything he wants. 

“But there’ll be booze,” Shanks teased, his voice promising things he never wanted to keep. 

“But, of course,” Cedrick scoffed, sickly, sweet triumph in his words. “I treat my friends very well.”

“Looking forward to it,” the Emperor lied, grabbing a pen. “Where can I find you, friend?”

 

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🐊🔴🗡️~~~

 

Convincing the other men to give him privacy for the call took some doing, but given how raw everyone’s nerves were, Shanks was grateful they’d let him be. Mostly, he was just grateful that he’d succeeded. 

“Where’s Buggy,” he frowned, charging back into the suite with multiple copies of Sylvad’s coordinates stuffed into his wrinkly pockets. 

“Listening,” Mihawk sighed, nodding his head toward the door, toward the cat’s room across the hall he’d been holed up in. “Y/N's mother is preparing her for suitors today. Apparently, she’ll be meeting them all at a banquet in two days.”

“That’s—“

“Yes, excellent flirting,” the swordsman teased, his dangerous eyes too focused on their task to tear the man into delicious little pieces. “Now you just need to convince him that you’ll be the best nephew in law he could ever hope for.”

“You’re not in the race yet,” Crocodile reminded while he rubbed his palm over his face, blinking away the start of a headache. “We don’t know why he invited you. You can’t let on that you know anything about the wedding, or the will, or—“

“I know,” Shanks nodded, plopping into an armchair, “but something’s been bothering me…”

The other men raised eyebrows, but looked back at the fresh notes, new batches that Buggy kept tossing into the hall. 

“Clearly he’s forcing her to marry someone that’ll cut him a good deal, but as soon as she marries, won’t she take over Sylvad’s as the heir," Shanks mused, tapping the pad of his thumb against his knee, frowning deeper with every new thought. "And her husband will get his own piece too, right? So why is Cedrick pushing for this? Isn’t he running the company now?”

“I don’t see Sylvad as the type of man to enjoy working under another person’s name,” Mihawk sneered into his espresso. 

“If he is about to lose control of Sylvad’s, then he’ll be looking for a hell of a deal to make up for it,” Crocodile growled.

He needed to get some of this violence out soon. 

“Exactly,” Shanks agreed while he leaned toward them, dropping the coordinates onto the table. “What the fuck do I have to offer that could compete with that?”

...

“Our girl didn’t act like she was off to lead an empire.”

Crocodile’s own voice was too much for him to listen to, so he let himself pace, this large suite still too small for him. 

Buggy’s laughter through the hall had all three men tensing for danger, then just pausing to listen. 

“Notes!”

Mihawk skirted around Crocodile’s pacing form to gather up the next pile of crumpled paper from the corridor. The golden eyed man let out what might have been a snort, handing the top page to Shanks before spreading them out on the table. 

“I believe this one’s for you.”

 

~~~

PrinceCharming?? 

She really thinks there’s gonna

be a "Prince Charming" in

this group of ASSHOLES??!! 

               Oh Yeah!! ! 

Our ASSHOLE CHARMER!  

You’ve got a    hole month.

A Game?   You can stay & play,

and my star will fucking     Kill it. 

maybe kill you, my babys so

My baby's got such

good style!!

✩

You MIGHT stand a chance.

 

~~~

 

~~~

 

“He seems to be in better spirits,” Shanks smiled, resisting the urge to go shower Buggy with affection, to make him laugh again. 

“It sounds like our sweet girl showed her fangs today,” Crocodile purred. The thought of her fighting her battles alone was unacceptable, but Buggy’s messy note praising her vicious words filled him with a pride he needed to do something with, especially since he didn’t know what had happened yet. 

“She’s afraid they’ll drug her food,” Mihawk reported, letting the larger man steal that particular note from his long fingers while they shook with rage. “My little bloodhound just coerced her own mother to be her poison tester.”

“What the…” 

“All these worthless leeches will be fucking foie gras when I’m done with ‘em,” Crocodile cut in, rage practically burning the air around him. “Think they can use her, scare my sweet girl, TOUCH MY—“

“Tell me how to play the villain.”

Shanks stood between Crocodile and the patch of wall he’d been about to smash, as calm as a mountain against a storm of sand.

Mihawk held his breath while he waited for these larger than life men to wake up from their spell, and for whatever havoc they might wreak.

“So, the prettyboy needs a lesson from the monster, huh,” Crocodile finally let out a breath, still resisting the urge to punch the smirk off of that pretty face. 

“I believe ‘Prince Charming,’ was the title,” Shanks laughed, relaxing when the veins on the ex-Warlord’s forehead started to shrink.

“Not according to our lovely clown,” Mihawk teased. He wasn’t sure what to do with the sight of his two daddy’s getting along, but he tried not to get distracted. Didn’t try hard enough. “You are our lovely ‘asshole charmer,’ remember?”

Something about the way his little prince could say such wicked, filthy things with such a straight face made Crocodile want to fucking squeeze him. Shanks joined him in surrounding their lovely swordsman, enjoying the laughter he and Buggy had drawn out, before reality crawled back into the room. 

“This’ll need to be a short lesson,” Shanks warned. He smoothed out one of his notes with his fingers, tapping on the numbers that would lead him to their girl.

The Emperor of the Sea had his goal, and he knew where to go, yet this mission was unlike any he’d carried out before. How could he convince this rich piece of shit that he could offer him the best deal to marry his niece? What would his competition be offering up? 

Shanks frowned at his wrinkly pants, hoping that he could lie, that he could pretend to be whatever level of asshole needed to get her out of there. 

“How much time do we have,” Crocodile growled, eyeing the coordinates Shanks had smoothed out on the table.

"I should head out after lunch."

"For fuck's sake," the ex-Warlord laughed, wrapping his arm around Mihawk's shoulders before eyeing the prettyboy again. "Let's get started."

 

~~~🐊🔴🗡️~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

 

Adam was good company, but Buggy had to spend half the time writing his notes while floating against the wall or ceiling, since the cat went wild for the pen while frantic words covered the pages. 

He quickly learned that if he didn’t tie up his hair, then his back and thighs would be sitting targets for sneak attacks. Those tiny daggers couldn’t pierce his skin, but he didn’t want to let out another embarrassing yelp like he had during the last ambush. So, the clown’s spare pens were shoved into the thick bun on the top of his head, and the more it came undone, the more the value of Adam’s company was called into question. 

But then the cat would curl up beside him, and make cute, little twitchy faces while he slept. 

“Shithead,” he breathed, scratching behind those furry ears while he waited for the Sylvad sisters to stop giggling, although he wished he could listen to that sound all fucking day. 

The way her heart celebrated every time she made her bitch of a mother chug half of her drinks before accepting them made the clown itch to join her. 

“I’ve got you, star,” he promised, picturing all the lovely, gruesome scenes. “We’re gonna make ‘em all pay.”

“This guy seems alright,” Kat approved, her voice close to his ear while they went through the binder together. “But boring, so…”

“I think that’s okay,” Y/N sighed, and something about her voice set Buggy on edge. “I wanted to escape. I was tired of being bored while I avoided all of this, but…”

“But what,” Kat asked, soft, waiting. 

“It’s time for me to grow up,” his star declared, somehow sounding further away. “What if I already turned away a decent life because I didn’t want to be bored? Because I wanted…” 

“Sis?”

“It’s over. There might not be a 'Prince Charming' in here,” she gave a cold laugh, a light knocking coming through before the sound of pages flipping, “but mom’s right about one thing. I need to take my future seriously. I have to marry one of these creeps, otherwise– I am marrying one of these creeps. And boring isn’t the worst trait a husband could have.”

No, star, you’re not gonna–

“Would it be weird for me to say, ‘you go, girl?”

“So fucking weird,” Y/N laughed, groaning as their breath moved together. The sound of her hug seemed like a strange thing to recognize. 

“Too bad there’s no measurements. I bet you wouldn’t mind a boring hubby with a monster cock.”

Y/N choked until Kat thumped her on the back a few times, while Buggy couldn’t decide if he wanted to hug or throttle her little sister for making her laugh, for helping her drift away.

“Pros and cons,” his star laughed when she could breathe again. Guilt ripped through Buggy when he realized that he felt closer to his love when she was falling apart. He needed her to be alright, needed her to be happy, even if it wasn’t with him.

But he had to hear it.

The clown had to listen to her steady voice, and feel the warmth of her laughter, while she decided to move on.

I’m coming for you, baby.

“Let’s find me a husband.”

 

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

Notes:

Y'all... what have I gotten myself into?? 😅 Anywho, any guesses on the suitors? I've got my list and my outline, and I'm going BONKERS. I will say, I have a sometimes restrictive urge to keep things as close to canon compliance/possibility as I can, but I'm still super excited about our guest list 🤭

Chapter 31: Could Never Stop

Summary:

The Emperor of the Sea sets sail from Karai Bari Island. Can he make it to the banquet in two days? More importantly, can Shanks regain his confidence, and do what needs to be done to save the woman that both of his lovers love?

Let the games begin! 🏹

Notes:

Thank you for the wait! This month has been extra, but I also spent a ton of time and research writing this one since the game is getting started. I hope you enjoy it! I have soo many plans 🥰😈

There's a yucky Uncle Cedrick scene, but from now on we'll just have to expect that. I will continue to bracket sections if heavier situations come up, but at this point, I hope that Uncle Cuntdick will be his own warning 😬

We are meeting Dr. Vorsan this chapter, and I've bracketed the scene with these symbols ~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~ so as not to jump scare everyone!

 

~

Alternate POV Symbols:
🌲 ~ Reader | 🐊 ~ Crocodile | 🗡 ~ Mihawk | 🤡 ~ Buggy | 🔴 ~ Shanks | ⏰ ~ Flashbacks for listed POV | ⚫ ~ Scenes depicting Dark Content as listed in Author's Notes

Extras:
Ongoing Series Playlist ~ YouTube Music Link ~ YouTube Link

~~~⏰🔴🔴🔴⏰~~~

 

“Go away, old man,” groaned a frighteningly hungover pirate captain, who was still face down on the floor of his quarters. Sheets with too many smells had already been stripped from his bed, but the night had held too much liquor for him to replace them on his own, so he’d slept on the rug.

“I’d love to,” Benn snorted, rolling Shanks onto his back. “Is my captain done drownin’ his sorrows?”

“Dunno what you mean.” 

He cringed while he pushed himself up to lean against the wall, and couldn’t meet his first mate’s eyes. 

“You’re too kind hearted for this, captain,” the older man sighed. “Why don’t you find a sweet, little barmaid to dote on like a respectable pirate, eh? What about–”

“I don’t want bunnies. I want…” Shanks growled, but his anger fizzled out at the thought of predators and prey.

“Nah. The Great, Red Haired Shanks just wants ungrateful brats that leave him crying on the floor a few times a year.”

The Great, Red Haired Shanks pulled himself to his feet, only to stumble over to an uncorked bottle in the corner, taking a grateful swig when he found it full. 

“Just had too much fun is all,” he laughed, the bitter taste drowning out the sweetness of the wine.

“Well, next time that creepy asshole gives my captain too much fun, I’m gonna make sure it’s him that’s crying, ya hear me?”

“Sure, old man,” Shanks snorted, letting his first mate guide him to the shower, still downing that wine to fight off images of wicked, beautiful eyes. He wondered how long it would take this time for the cruel hint of gold to leave his mind. 

The Great, Red Haired Shanks didn’t need bunnies or hawks. He just needed the sea, his crew, and another fucking bottle. 

 

~~~⏰🔴🔴🔴⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

 

“It’s been some time since our last session. How have you been feeling, Y/N?”

Dr. Vorsan’s pale eyes always felt sticky. Puddles of too much glue, waiting to capture anything you let slip from your shaky fingers, your trembling lips. 

Breathe.

“I’m feeling well, Doctor,” you lied, keeping your voice soft. “I’m sure you've heard about my recent behavior… I believe the experience has offered me some much needed clarity.”

Everything about this man was pale and watery, and you reminded yourself not to frown at his beige suit. It would have seemed like the doctor wanted to fade into the background, if every boring detail about him hadn’t been so exquisitely tailored.

“That’s good to hear,” he praised, though the emptiness in his voice had you fighting to stay present. “Why don’t you tell me about it. You’re going through a lot of transitions, Y/N. Major life changes, even positive ones, can cause a lot of strain. Have you been feeling strained, Y/N?”

“Mmssorry,” you slurred, fighting your lips that had already frozen, not even five minutes in. 

“You stated that your time with the Cross Guild brought you clarity,” Dr. Vorsan noted. Those sticky eyes seemed to warm while your body left your control, until you couldn’t meet them anymore, couldn’t look higher than his elbows. “By putting yourself in such a dangerous–”

“I wasn’t–” 

You were heavy and loose now, your whispered denial draining the last of your energy. 

“You’re in a safe place, Y/N,” he promised while he pulled a shiny, gold pen from his jacket, propping up a notepad on his knee. “Do you know where you are?”

He asked again, voice so soft, until you nodded in agreement. 

“Good, Y/N. Just take some deep breaths, and we can stop whenever you need to. We’ll help you get clarity, so you can stay well. Do you want to stay well, Y/N?”

“Y-yes, Doctor.”

“Wonderful,” he purred, scratching a note onto the top of his page, the movement of his manicured hands holding your gaze. “Why don’t you tell me about the clown?”

 

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🗡️🤡🐊~~~

 

“With Sylvad’s cowardly level of security, I believe this would be too risky to use, but you should take it, in case the opportunity arises.”

“It’s so small,” Shanks hummed, inspecting Mihawk’s earpiece transponder snail, its tiny eyes blinking up at him slowly. “Maybe if I–”

“Save it,” Crocodile ordered, pushing away his untouched meal before closing the ornate shell container in Shanks’ palm, shutting those little eyes away. “Right now, the safest way to save our girl is for you to marry her. Don’t put that at risk by acting suspicious.”  

Shanks stared at the closed shell before tucking it away, looking up to find his old friend winking at him. 

“Don’t fret, love. We can have a belated bachelor party when you return,” Mihawk teased, combing his fingers through that bright, red hair.

“But Buggy—”

“I’m not thrilled about it either,” Crocodile sighed, standing to usher the other man out of the suite, “but it’s our best chance. That’s your mission. We’ll be listening, we have the location, and we can reach out to your crew if we need to share something vital. Can you do this?”

The two men stared each other down again, the swordsman’s hand dropping away to give them space. 

“I’ll bring her back,” Shanks swore again, offering Crocodile his hand. The larger man shook it, but the press of time killed their peaceful moment. 

The Emperor made his way into Adam’s room, waiting for Buggy’s permission to speak, but his clown looked pained, and Shanks couldn’t wait.

“What’s wrong, Bugs?”

Buggy’s hands were cramping from recording the pros and cons of the men that might marry his star. His throat was tired from swallowing nasty fears and guilt at the thought of Y/N actually finding someone she wanted to be with. 

“You’re leaving,” he whispered, letting out a sigh when Shanks nodded. Strong fingers were so gentle as they brushed hair behind his ear, pens not doing enough to hold up all of that blue. 

“I’m gonna fix this, Bugs.”

“She doesn’t believe…”

Though jealousy had turned him into someone he didn’t recognize, now when he saw that look of love in Buggy’s eyes for Y/N, Shanks wanted to burn all the oceans to bring them back together. 

“She loves me, but she thinks it’s over, Shanks. My star’s really looking for someone else.”

“That’s not gon–”

“Make sure it’s you, alright, shithead?”

Buggy pressed his last piece of hope into Shanks’ palm, before letting himself hold and be held by this beautiful man that had been so many things to him over the years. He sank to the floor, allowing soothing kisses to be left along his unraveling hair while slow, exhausted tears escaped him. 

Shanks opened his mouth to comfort, to promise, to share, but Buggy reached for the notepad again, mumbling about her “favorites.” After a rushed, bittersweet kiss, the red headed pirate was on his way, met by his golden eyed lover in the hall.

“Making sure I don’t run off with all your booze,” he tried to smile, feeling the weight of distance already crashing over him. 

“Something like that,” Mihawk teased. “I thought I’d send you off.”

 

~~~🔴🗡️🤡🐊~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

“How was your session with Dr. Vorsan,” Uncle Cedrick taunted, filling the dining room with ice. 

“It went well.”

You’d managed to bring yourself back, to find your body and voice again before dinner, knowing that he’d be waiting to poke at you. 

“Excellent,” he purred, killing your appetite again. “He’ll be staying until the wedding, just in case you need the extra support.”

“Thank you, Uncle,” you hummed, forcing down a bite.

“So polite,” he laughed, touching your moms chin to lift her face up. “See, Delaine. A little time with the doc, and your daughter’s already feeling better. Maybe she’ll even stop asking her mama bird to chew up her food soon.”

“She can stop after the wedding,” you said coldly, not enjoying the cruel laugh he gave at her expense.

“Such a high maintenance bride,” he taunted, towering over you all when he stood from his seat, offering you his arm. “Come on, smarty. Let’s take a walk.”

Kat started to argue for you, but it was a pointless battle, so you left the other Sylvad ladies at the table, letting Uncle Cedrick guide you out to the lavish courtyard. 

“I know you’ve been reviewing the details with Kat, instead of your mother, but I expect you to be prepared tomorrow. You know the rules of the game?”

“The suitors have a month to win me,” you recited while he led you through the tables, dragging you to the beautiful, carved bench where the introductions would be held. “They’re not allowed to fight amongst themselves unless it’s for the game, and they have to leave grudges aside until after someone wins my heart. They’ll all have time with me as a group and in private, and they can woo me however they like, so long as it doesn’t endanger me, or take me off the island.”

The pride in his smile wasn’t for you, but he beamed it at you, nonetheless.

“Since you’ve been doing so well, I’m sure you can remember a few more rules. Think you can handle that, smarty?”

“Yes, Uncle,” you agreed, sending your rage down into the stone beneath you. 

“You need to remember that choice is a fucking luxury, Y/N,” he threatened, brushing the hair back from your face while he leaned too close, his cologne filling your lungs. “After the fiasco you could have caused, and after all these years of abusing my patience, you’re lucky I’m letting you play this little game at all.”

His hateful words were drawn out with lazy pleasure, and he kept his fingers in your hair, stroking you like a pet. Like his pretty doll.

“You’re going to give all of your suitors a fair chance. They’re here to enjoy themselves, so I won’t have you chasing anyone off too soon. You’re going to whittle them down slowly, and carefully, and with my approval. Your final two suitors will be offered a deal, and if they don’t accept it, they won’t get my blessing.”

“So…”

“So, do whatever you need to do to convince the men you like the most to take that deal.”

Nodding so you wouldn’t spit, you seethed when he tugged at your chin the way he’d touched your mother’s earlier. Your eyes were forced to his, and the stars above seemed to burn like acid as your face tilted up toward them. 

“I’ll do anything to protect this family,” Uncle Cedrick vowed as he rubbed his thumb across your snarling lips. “If there’s a man that can offer a better deal, then he’ll get my blessing, no matter your preference. So get ready to use this smart, little mouth of yours, niece. I wonder if you’re a good enough whore to convince anyone to stay? Though I have to confess, after all of your tantrums, I think my spoiled brat of a niece might deserve a man that can put her in her place.”

He laughed at your stifled hatred, wiggling your face before releasing you. 

“Give them all a chance to win you,” Uncle ordered, satisfaction dripping from his parted lips. 

He enjoyed watching you suffer. Enjoyed it in a way that made your skin crawl, but you could never fully hide your rage from him, no matter how skilled you became. He could fucking sniff it out. 

“If I catch you sabotaging any suitor’s feelings for you before I’ve given the approval to drop them, then I’ll make sure you get some extra special time together. It’s only fair.”

All of the acceptance you’d been building up was crashing down around you, and you held in your tears, not wanting to see the pleasure on his face if he tore them from you. 

You wanted to run away.

He found me. He could have had Karai Bari wiped off the fucking map, and Buggy…

“Well, niece, do you understand? Or do I need to—“

“I’ll fuck the one’s I like to make them take your deal,” you growled, almost losing your vision from the rage that was coursing through you. “And I’ll fuck the one’s I hate so you won’t know which piece of shit to trap me with.”

Cedrick Sylvad threw his head back, bellowing his cruel laughter up to the twinkling sky. 

“Oh, this is going to be fun,” he wheezed, before leaving you there with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Don’t stay up too late, niece.”

He didn’t leave you with a guard. There was no need. 

I’ll never get away. These are my choices. Pros and cons.

The silent courtyard felt like a cemetery while you struggled to move, to head off to bed, and end this shitty night. Your fingers found their way to your locket, the touch of warm metal helping to calm your breathing while you stared at all the cold, shining stars above you. 

“At least I have all those pretty daydreams,” you whispered, feeling like an empty doll as you floated off to bed. 

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🗡️🔴🗡️~~~

 

“Hawk Eyes.”

It had been a couple of years since Mihawk had stepped foot onto the Red Force, but his body had memorized every step toward the captain’s quarters, and they walked there without a thought. 

Until a tall, scowling man blocked his path.

“Good afternoon, Benn. How—“

“How about you get the fuck—“

“Hey now,” Shanks laughed, stepping between his first mate and the swordsman, who’d raised a brow at the threatening tone. “We’re good, Benn! He’s just seeing us off.”

“Well, I’ll see him off a fucking cliff if he makes you—”

Shanks cut him off, pulling Mihawk into his quarters while Benn narrowed his eyes, his arms flexing as he crossed them over his chest. 

“If I make him…” Mihawk asked, focusing on the hint of pink that was blossoming on Shanks’ cheeks. 

Cute.

“Benn, get the crew ready. We’re heading out soon.”

“Aye, captain,” he agreed, still leaning toward the swordsman through the doorway. Benn jerked his head to the side as unruly strands of long, gray hair escaped his tie, getting in the way of his glare. “If you ever make my captain cry again, I’m gonna turn those pretty, gold eyeballs into pretty, gold earrings, ya hear me?”

“Thanks, Benn,” Shanks shoved the man out, locking himself into his quarters with his wicked, old friend whose mouth was hanging wide open. He might have laughed at the sight if he hadn’t wanted to crawl under the floorboards. 

Fuck you, Benn…

“Cry?”

Shanks had watched those lips move. He’d heard that voice speak. 

Yet his mind couldn’t connect that trembling word to the deadly rival before him.

The sweetness that had echoed through Mihawk’s bones with every step beside his lover had curdled again, guilt and shame scraping up his throat, strangling the words he’d hoped to share.

I don’t deserve it. 

“You’re shaking,” the red haired pirate breathed as he reached for one of those dangerous hands. Everything was unsteady. Nothing in this world fit anymore, but Shanks tried to laugh it off. “Is Dracule Mihawk feeling jealous? I never had you pegged for the marriage type.”

“No,” he choked a laugh, brittle and stinging as he sat on the bed. The same, old bed they’d shared countless times. “I’m so sorry, Shanks.”

Those words again.

This “vacation” of his had felt like the most outrageous, delicious dream held hostage by a nightmare, and Shanks felt a sudden terror that he was about to wake up to find it was all gone. 

In case it was about to disappear, Shanks sat beside his vicious, old friend, and pressed a kiss to the man’s temple. Mihawk wrapped his arms around him, clinging, feeding into the unreality of this soft, lovely dream. 

“Are you alright, Hawk,” Shanks breathed.

Instincts would have sent the swordsman out the door by now. Every thought pushed him out, guilt, and fear, and lies, no longer strong enough to outweigh the need to keep holding Shanks against him, to keep inhaling his comforting scent. 

The need to run was fueled by his new piles of shame. An unconscious demand to leave. Leave. Leave. 

“I’m done…”

“What’s that,” Shanks tensed at the whisper. He fought his rising dread, tracing his fingers through that pretty, black hair. As they always had, Mihawk’s hypnotic eyes made his world pause, yet in this moment they seemed like true magic. The swordsman had once been blank, unknowable, giving no depth, though Shanks had reached and delved as far as his old rival would let him.

Now those golden eyes were hypnotizing not for their blankness, but for the swirling depths that pulled him in. Pools of molten metal, pain, and need, and other things Shanks couldn’t think clearly enough to try to understand. 

Mihawk couldn’t understand how this beautiful, glorious man could still stand to look at him, let alone offer him comfort. He almost talked himself out of the room again, but vowed that he was done being a coward. He would fight. He would never run. 

Never again.

“I know I…” Mihawk started, losing his train of thought while he stared at his old friend that could have been something so much more. 

What’s the point of being safe if I can’t even… 

“Hawk?” 

 “I love you. I know it’s too late. I’m sorry, I–mmn!”

All that dread exploded, leaving Shanks absolutely fucking high. None of this could be real, but what a dream. 

“Took you long enough, old friend,” he purred. Mihawk whimpered beneath him, shaking under his touch after Shanks had pushed him onto his back, kissing him as though he’d disappear if he stopped. 

“I’m s-sorry, Sha–”

“Are you lying? Manipulating me?”

He gripped Mihawk’s face, wanting to throw this fear off the ship. Gods, he wanted to believe it, to feel it. 

Mihawk let out a breath, a weak sob, as the gold of his eyes was dressed with diamonds. The monster was even more hypnotizing when he cried.

“I’m not lying,” he confessed. Memories flooded the swordsman now, filling the air around him with regret, and with the hope he was fighting to keep. He reached up, cupping Shanks’ face while he blinked away his salty fear. “You loved a coward, old friend, but I’m done running. I love you. I’m so sor–”

Shanks couldn’t tell if he was laughing, or crying as he fell onto the wicked, intoxicating man beneath him. 

“I love you too, Hawk. I still love you. Could never stop.”

“Shanks…”

“Say it again,” Shanks breathed while he kissed along Mihawk’s throat, dizzy while one of his dearest fantasies played out before him. 

“I love you, Shanks.” Mihawk shivered, clinging, reaching, falling to pieces. Shameful parts of him still screamed to run, still thought so many cruel, ungrateful things, but there was nothing like the satisfied sounds his lover made when he said those words. “I have loved you in my cowardly heart. I’m sorry I– fuck!”

The red haired pirate fisted his hair with vicious force while he rutted his clothed cock against him, chuckling as he watched those hypnotizing eyes flutter with need. 

“Why are you sorry?”

“I…”

Mihawk was already lost in him, and Shanks let that sweetness pour over his body, his breath relaxing as he decided how to take care of his lover. 

“You’re sorry because you didn’t say you love me, right,” he purred, kissing tingles into Mihawk’s skin as he breathed along his temple to his jaw. The swordsman gave a weak nod, and a little whine, so Shanks nibbled at his ear, telling his boy how to please him. 

“I don’t wanna hear another ‘sorry,' you hear me,” he threatened, tracing his thumb along Mihawk’s hip, dipping down into those low riding pants. “You’d better keep telling me what you should have back then.”

“Shanks,” Mihawk moaned, undoing the lacings of his own clothes before clawing at Shanks’, desperate beneath the sway of that crooked smile. “I love you.”

The Emperor of the Sea forgot.

Nothing to do. Nowhere to be. 

Shanks just had to make this man say those words again and again. It had been so fucking long. They touched and kissed every inch of each other in their mad rush to claim every moment before the dream faded away, until the swordsman looked over his shoulder, begging so pretty. So perfect. 

“I need you, daddy,” Mihawk relaxed, ready. “Need you, love you, want… mm, please…”

“I need you too, bright eyes,” Shanks hummed, fingers finding their way in, cool lube easing the stretch while he made his lover moan into the wrinkled sheets. “I need my pretty boy to let me love him. You finally gonna let me, Hawk?” 

“Please,” he begged. The press of Shanks’ cock teasing at him was too much, and he writhed, shoving himself back until he cried out, earning the full force of that powerful body. 

“Look at you. Knew you’d be so good for me, baby.”

His fingers caressed while he pressed that pale skin into the mattress, and Shanks let everything go, praising, taking, and hurting his lover until they both went fucking mad. Mihawk let himself feel safe in the pleasure and the pain.

Safe. 

His lover made him cry, and bleed, and come, before laying his own claim. Shanks’ heavy cock filled him, on and on, leaving Mihawk twitching and whining. There they stayed, breathing, sweating, and whispering those words until they remembered. 

“I’ve gotta go, Hawk... Will you still love me when I come back,” Shanks asked as reality returned, failing to hide all the true fear in his voice.

“My lover gone away to sea. I shall await thee,” Mihawk hummed, moaning when Shanks pulled away, his body still craving his touch. 

“Are you writing love poems already?”

Mihawk could have stayed in that bed for days, but she was there in his mind. Still trembling from love and pleasure, fear followed him while he helped Shanks clean the evidence of their selfish lust, low chuckles still warming the air around them through it all. 

“I’ll write poetry for you, my love,” he breathed, eyes fluttering at the new touches he’d earned. “But you’re right. You need to leave.”

Demands felt wrong, so the swordsman finished drying and dressing his lover, until the Emperor pulled him close, their foreheads pressed together while he tried not to succumb to his own selfish terror. 

“I love you, Hawk Eyes,” Shanks let out one more time, while the memory of empty eyes burned through his soul. Y/N had helped both of his lovers, had helped him find them again, to hold them again, had helped them open up.

I owe her everything.

“I love you too, Red Hair,” Mihawk gave a true smile, shaky though it was. The voice calling for him to run was easily ignored with the gratitude and desperation rolling through him now. “Please–”

“Don’t worry, baby,” Shanks laughed, kissing those lips again before leading his deadly lover off the ship. “If I can win over Dracule Mihawk’s icy heart, then there’s no beast I can’t charm.”

 

~~~🔴🗡️🔴🗡️~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

“I’m fine.”

“Liar.” 

Kat managed to pull a laugh from you while servants buzzed around, swarming like bees as you waited in the courtyard for your new life to begin.

Whenever a big tree fell on Sylvad property, it would be easy to cart it away, to sell it into little pieces, but this courtyard was built to show off one of your favorite family traditions.

The last few generations of Sylvad’s had refused to let a fallen tree be scurried away like something to be ashamed of. If a tree fell on a Sylvad estate, it was to be celebrated to honor the hard work and creativity that made your family’s name synonymous with power, wisdom, and enough wealth and status to rival nobility. 

You sat on one of those dead trees, the trunk carved into a formidable, layered bench along the base of the manor, while the lantern lit courtyard stretched out toward the forest. On and on the bench seemed to go, covered with lifelike, and even life size animals trying to spring into your world from the fallen wood.

Childhood memories trampled over you for a moment, just like your little body had once tried to climb and claim this wonder of the forest. The obedient bees brought you back to the present, doing some last minute touch ups to your hair and makeup while they fluffed up your giant gown. 

Asking why you were in a white dress before your wedding day had sent you into rigid silence once the rest of the ensemble was forced onto you.

Don’t bite the help. Don’t bite the help… Do deer bite people?

“I’ll be right over there all night, okay,” Kat’s voice pushed through the mass of bodies. “Make that face if you need me to step in.”

“There’ll be no need for that, ladies,” Uncle scolded, his presence scattering the hovering pests around you. He beamed at your sister while he patted her cheek, before sending her to sit with your sulking mother. Kat gave you a weak smile, leaving you on that extravagant bench while your uncle managed to sit beside you without mussing your dress. 

The music may have been pretty. The lanterns lighting up beneath the golden, darkening sky might have been enchanting. 

It was even possible that one of the men in that crowd of guests breaking through the treeline onto the stone pathway would make a lovely husband. 

You tried to breathe, tapping nervously against the locket you’d stuffed into the corset of your dress since it hadn’t “fit the theme.”

What a feeling it was to finally know that love was real. Yet, such was your fate that you had to keep killing and burying the futile wish that you could have kept it for yourself. 

All of these men are here to own me. Every single one.

“Don’t forget to smile, dear niece,” Uncle taunted, leaning close enough to warm your cheek with his words. He laughed at his little joke, while you tried to obey.

You were the white stag. 

You were his helpless prey, whose sole purpose was to be hunted, mounted, and displayed. Nothing more than a tasty trophy.

The stupid, white antlers in your hair felt heavier with each moment while you watched your hunters stalk ever closer. The men had separated from their guests who were being seated so that everyone could watch your uncle’s little show, while the suitors formed a line.

“If you–”

“You already won, Uncle,” you cut him off, eyes scanning the edge of the forest while more figures appeared. “I’ll be well behaved venison from here on… what the f–”

“Smile.”

No fucking way.

Kat had followed your line of sight, and if your face matched the look on hers, you needed to shake it off now. The last thing you needed to do was offend one of these men that could squash you like a bug.

Sis was right. We should have asked for measurements. 

Swallowing manic laughter at the thought, you split into pieces, becoming the hunted. The truest part of you watched the show from a deep, dark hole within while you smiled at Uncle Cedrick, although your body couldn’t hide the shivers that broke through. 

“Smart girl,” he hummed, curdling your stomach before he pressed your hand into an old man’s wrinkly grip.

Your suitors had arrived.

“Giberson, lovely to see you. Let me introduce you to my niece. She’s—“

“The Cross Guild’s young CFO, if my sources aren’t mistaken? I can’t imagine there’s another Y/N Sylvad gallivanting about.” Giberson caught you off guard, and you were a deer in the headlights when his scratchy, white mustache tickled across your fingers. 

His words had left you frozen, and he released your hand, seeming a little wobbly while he balanced with his jewel encrusted cane. The old man adjusted his pin striped hat, making his tall body seem even lankier in the matching suit.

“I shouldn’t be surprised,” Uncle Cedrick laughed, clapping the old man on the back. “You probably know more about the competition than I do. So, have you decided to join the game, or will you just be staying for the entertainment?”

This old man is one of the Emperors of the Underworld… 

Giberson’s dossier had been the lightest you’d received, yet somehow that made him more frightening, along with his epithet; The Concealer.

“Hopefully I’ll have more luck at this wedding than I did at the last one I attended. Bodies just don’t recover the same when you get to be my age,” Giberson chuckled as he tapped his knee with his cane a few times. “Still, I may be old, but I can’t resist the offer to join in such a delightful game.”

“Happy hunting, good man. I’m confident that some time in Y/N’s company will put some pep back in your step,” Uncle encouraged, pulling an intricately carved arrow from a quiver at his back, adding to the vision of the dark hunter he exuded tonight. He handed it to you, giving you the illusion of choice.

You’d been told not to stand unless you absolutely had to, so you looked up at him through your lashes. Your painted doe eyes needed no help looking helpless, but you obeyed just the same. Giberson smelled of whiskey when he leaned down to accept the arrow from your grasp, a satisfied smile on those aged lips. 

“Just watch out, little lady. These young boys aren’t done fighting yet,” he stepped back, nodding subtly over his shoulder. “It would be a shame to see such a precious thing get caught up in the crossfire. I’d rather like to avoid that fate myself this time around.”

“Not to worry, Giberson, we’re all here to enjoy a more civilized kind of battle. Although, the betting pools have already added a few extra categories for all the possibilities this month presents.” 

The men ignored you now, but you had to keep your face mildly pleasant while you reminded yourself not to scratch it, so as not to risk fucking up the subtle deer makeup across your nose and cheeks. 

Humiliating.

You were the only animal at the banquet. The only thing on the menu. Everyone else got to be human.

Well, maybe not everyone… 

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

 

“Are these supposed to be this fucking tight? This can’t be right…”

Shanks tugged and pulled at the dove gray pants he’d been gifted by Sylvad’s attendants, his head snapping up at the choked sound coming from his first mate’s throat. 

“What’s wrong?”

Benn had changed quickly, the banquet already getting started when the two of them had stepped foot onto the private island. The older man had lucked out, easily fitting into the borrowed suit that was such a dark blue it was almost black, although he’d rolled up the sleeves, and traded the jacket for his purple cloak. Having some breathing room around his muscular arms made him seem slightly less annoyed since their weapons had to remain on the Red Force. 

Benn was too distracted to care about their weapons at the moment though, wheezing while he watched his mighty captain try to stuff all of his bits into those tiny pants. 

“Did you try the other pairs?” Benn failed to hide his laughter, having to clear his throat and look away.

“They're all the same size– He can’t really expect me to wear this?”

His eyes were wide, unconsciously shaking his head while he gaped at his reflection. 

The tight, gray breeches seemed designed specifically to showcase every curve of his cock and balls. The soft fabric was tucked into black, knee high boots that a certain swordsman would have coveted, but Shanks felt like he was going insane with the urge to light the borrowed clothes on fire. 

“No. I’m not going out there like this,” Shanks resisted.

“You said you’d do anything for her, captain. Don’t you wanna get on the uncle’s good side?” Benn’s laughter vanished while he draped a black cloak over his Captain’s shoulders, fastening the high collar around his throat. His thick fingers trailed down over the frilly, white shirt, checking the small, black vest that was little more than a girdle, before tying off his captain's sleeve. “This bunny of yours worth the tight pants?”

“Emperor Shanks, sir,” came a soft voice beyond the door. “The banquet is underway, is there anything I can assist– Oh I– Oh…”

He forgot what he was about to ask this poor girl when he opened the door, because the look on her face gave him everything he needed.

“You doing alright, darlin,” Shanks purred, touching one of the girl’s bright, red cheeks.

Benn chuckled, pushing through the doorway, and onto the stone path, ordering his captain to hurry it up.

“Y-yes, I am, sir,” she trembled, letting out a giggle when Shanks winked, and the sweet sound brought him back. 

“Good girl. Why don’t you show us where to go?”

~~~

“You always strut, but I can’t remember the last time I saw you strutting like this,” Benn smirked. 

“I can’t help it! These boots have heels.” 

Shanks stuck out his tongue before they passed beyond the denser trees. 

“You have been invited to join the game, Emperor Shanks.” The servant bowed her head while she gestured toward the center of the decorated courtyard. “I’ll lead your guest to his table now, unless you’d rather not accept the offer?”

“Why not,” Shanks beamed at her, though the sight of his competition made him fight not to sway on those uncomfortable heels. 

“Looks like you and your tiny pants might be outmatched, captain,” Benn whispered, patting him on the back before following the pretty girl to a table full of enemies. 

Shanks had barely made it here in time, and felt a twinge of guilt return while the last suitors moved out of the way, but the sight of her stopped the blood in his veins. 

Twilight had crept into dusk, and the dancing light of the lanterns bathed her painted skin, her white dress, and ethereal antlers, seeming to glow from within. Y/N shone like a wounded star, bleeding out her light for all of these monsters to drink. 

“The clothes suit you well, Emperor,” Cedrick purred, making his niece flinch. She hid herself away before Shanks could decipher what he’d seen behind her mesmerizing eyes. 

“I had no idea that fashionable friends could be so generous,” he charmed, stalking closer and closer until he caught her cold hand in his. “Or that I’d have the pleasure of meeting such a gorgeous, little bunny again so soon. Sorry, you're a gorgeous, little doe, aren’t you?”

She stared while he pressed his lips to her knuckles, and he took in every detail, wishing he could just grab her and run.

She’s not wearing Buggy’s locket… 

Before new anxiety could set in, Shanks had to swallow his rage at the sound of that voice. 

“Either would make for a good hunt. The nice Emperor asked you a question, Y/N,” Sylvad taunted, tapping her thigh with a decorative arrow. 

“It’s alright, bunny.” He gave her a crooked smile while she gave him nothing, so he turned to the smirking piece of shit by her side. “From what I’ve gathered, we might get to spend some more time together soon. Do I have that right, new friend?”

“I treat my friends very well, but family is everything,” Cedrick vowed. “There'll be plenty of time to discuss details later, but if you’d like to accept the offer to join this little game, then you may get to enjoy more than just our famous Sylvad hospitality.”

Shanks bought himself some time by letting his eyes rake over her again.

I’m a villain. I’m not here to rescue her.

“How could I resist?”

“Go on,” her uncle beamed with triumph, shoving the arrow into her hand. 

The woman that had captured the hearts of the only two people Shanks had ever truly loved met her Uncle’s cruel gaze before looking back up at the Emperor of the Sea. Her eyes fluttered while she offered him the arrow, keeping her hands close to her face so that he felt her breath on his fingers as pulled the symbolic weapon from her grip.

His lips parted as he became trapped in her eyes again, although that haunting pull had been replaced by a desire so hot, it rivaled the stars. Y/N's bare need felt like a gift from the heavens. 

“Thank you,” he breathed, twirling the arrow in his fingers while he bowed his head at that fallen star, before winking at her captor.

“Happy hunting, Shanks.”

 

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

Giberson had finally stopped gossiping with Uncle Cedrick, so you became the prey again, smiling up at your next suitor.

Suitors.

You couldn’t help glancing toward Kat while her favorite pick stepped up alongside his brothers. 

These men should have been intimidating, and they had been, for a moment.

Yet now, the three princes of the Germa Kingdom were all staring down at you like hungry puppies.

What the fuck?

“Welcome, Ichiji, Niji, Yonji. This is my niece, Y/N. It is an honor to welcome you to our humble estate.”

“The honor is ours,” one of the princes crooned, laying a kiss with almost too much pressure against your knuckles.

Ichiji. The red head is Ichiji. 

Your mind rattled through everything you could recall while his green and blue haired brothers took their turns, their loose shirts and billowing capes moving prettily in the light breeze. 

Somehow the word “prince” had made their blatant lust seem shocking, and you almost laughed at how fucking naive that was. 

They were here to buy you, just like all the rest, and their royal hands lingered on your skin when they accepted their arrows. 

~~~

“There you are, old friend!”

“Cedrick. It’s good to see you.”

“Mr. Iceburg?”

Excitement tore through you, and you almost leapt to your feet so you could hug your dad’s old friend.

Your uncle’s old friend… 

Iceburg, the Mayor of Water 7, and the CEO of Galley-La.

You’d had an embarrassing crush on the man, even before he brought all of those shipbuilding companies under one name seven years ago, creating his own empire. Water 7 was your company’s most powerful, and profitable connection, so you’d spent a lot of your childhood on that watery island while your dad made deals with this handsome entrepreneur. 

He’d always been kind, and funny, and had never ignored or patronized you like so many of the other business contacts dad had made you spend time with. 

“Well, Y/N, don’t you look stunning,” Iceburg hummed, leaning down close to kiss your cheek. It was something he’d done many times, but your skin still flushed with heat as it always had. “I hardly recognized my little numbers girl.”

With your mouth hanging open, you felt like a child come face to face with her dream, only to find that the dream carried a bitter aftertaste. 

But it still looked fucking good. 

Your eyes traveled up and down his tall frame, snagging on the black, leather pants tucked into knee length boots. He had rarely buttoned his shirts all the way before, but now the loose fabric of his rust-colored tunic hung wide open, and you found yourself blinking up at the lovely frame it made around his tanned skin, and dark, blue chest hair.

“Don’t keep our dear friend waiting, Y/N,” Uncle Cedrick urged, tapping your hands with the arrow until you snapped out of your teenage fantasy. 

“May I,” Iceburg asked, his eyebrow raising just a bit while he watched you nod.

He’s here to buy me. He wants to buy his friend’s daughter. Wants to…

His thumb traced over your wrist before he pulled away, the rough touch of a carpenter's hand making you shiver. 

“See ya, girlie,” Iceburg winked, wrecking you for the next hopeful. 

~~~

Luckily the next hopeful didn’t matter, although it felt like you’d just lost a safety net.

“I do apologize,” whined the most ‘boring’ candidate, Mr. Halvens. “I’m afraid I will have to decline. There are certain elements here that I cannot have my name associated with.”

“Not to worry,” Uncle laughed. “You’re welcome to stay for the banquet, although I'd recommend keeping your voice down if you plan to disparage my other guests again.”

The poor man went pale, and you were disgusted with your urge to laugh at his pathetic scrambling when your uncle’s laughter rolled over you first. 

~~~

“Prince Fukaboshi,” you projected, staring up at the massive merman. There was a ring of what looked like a bubble around his waist, and his blue, spotted tail seemed to float just slightly above the ground. 

You had prepared yourself for a merman. 

Not for a fucking giant. 

“I am looking forward to winning your heart, Miss Sylvad,” he charmed, although the effect was strange from almost two stories up. Fukaboshi's regal voice rushed toward you when he leaned down, and you tried to smile under that sharp face, that cloud of light, blue hair. 

The arrow seemed to shrink once his fingers pulled it so carefully from yours, before he joined his guests at the edge of the courtyard. You could still feel the prince's gaze, like a cool weight over your skin.

~~~

How the fuck… 

The fact that the next suitors weren’t even the tallest people you’d met tonight was insane, and you had to fight not to let panicked laughter escape while you were introduced to these two brothers. 

“Thank you so much for coming. This is my niece, Y/N. I know she’s been looking forward to meeting you both, Cracker, and Katakuri.” Uncle Cedrick smiled at the frightening brothers, seeming almost giddy when he handed you their arrows. 

Cracker leaned down first, and he had to be a couple of feet taller than… He also carried a fierce scar on his face, scraping across his right eye. When he grinned, his bright, pink irises seemed to eat you up, a near manic look behind them. 

You couldn’t make sense of his clothes, so you tried not to look at the giant fucking crackers hanging around his belt, or at his light, purple hair that was tied into long buns that seemed to be crackling with fire.

Katakuri was even taller, almost as tall as the merman prince, but he went to a knee to get closer to you. His clothes were all leather with scratches and spikes artfully placed to look even more ready for violence. Pink tattoos kissed along his bare chest and arms, and the color went well with his crimson hair and eyes, but you couldn’t see more of his face below the fur scarf he had wrapped up to the bridge of his nose. 

His eyes were intense, knowing, and the sheer size of him amplified his frightening, but lovely, features. 

“Pleasure to meet you, Y/N. I hope that our families can join their strengths soon.”

The Charlotte brothers left you breathless while the courtyard buzzed with the sounds of guests enjoying their drinks as they waited for dinner to start, celebrating the thought of you being claimed by one of these lucky suitors. 

~~~

Twilight had crept into dusk, and you let yourself take a breath, knowing that the line must be coming to an end. Everyone in your mom’s book was already here, plus Iceburg, and there couldn’t be too many last minute… 

Shanks?

The Emperor of the Sea stood framed by the growing night, dressed like a wicked horseman on the hunt. He stared at you as though he were surprised to find you there. 

As though this fucking traitor hadn’t broken his promise as soon as Uncle Cedrick had shown up. The image of Shanks leaning close, smiling, and flirting with your uncle at the Cross Guild’s party felt like molten metal through your gut. Then he’d run away. You’d seen him, that stupid, red hair slipping through the crowd, fleeing the vow he’d made to you. 

Liar. Liar. LIAR! 

Somehow you stayed very deep inside yourself after Uncle’s voice made you flinch, even while this filthy leech touched your hand. You couldn’t hear what he was saying while he talked to his new best friend.

You’re just another bitch for my uncle’s money, aren’t you? Disgusting trash.

You almost laughed. Almost let it out.

Uncle Cedrick tapped your thigh with the arrow, and the visceral image of shoving it into one of Shanks' poisonous, “soft,” brown eyes felt intoxicating. 

Pathetic . You’re just like all the rest. The Great Red Haired Shanks is no hero. Just another piece of shit that would betray his love for some berry. 

Rage and nausea battled for more space within you, until your uncle shoved the arrow into your hand, and you remembered.

I can't let Uncle see how much I hate him.  

A wave of desire and power burned through you, and you let yourself feel nothing but need while you offered Shanks that weapon instead of using it against him. It felt as though you were possessed, but you welcomed the chaos of mindless lust, relishing in it when those soft eyes went dark before he finally got the fuck away from you. 

Did he just fucking thank me?

Uncle started to address the crowd, and you knew you should be listening. You tried to be here, to survive. 

Traitor. Liar. Leech. Trash.

Breathing felt impossible. Your corset seemed tighter now, making the hidden locket dig into your skin, reminding you that Buggy was all alone. 

There had never been a chance for you to have true love in your life. Not the cursed heiress of Sylvad’s. Not with your Uncle’s plans.

Your sweet, lovely clown deserved better. 

But Shanks betrayed you both. He'd abandoned Buggy after one conversation with Cedrick Sylvad, just as weak and worthless as your first two "loves." 

Uncle offered you his hand, and you stood without knowing what was next, but all that came next was applause. Happy, little vultures excited for their next meal. 

“Did you hear me,” he hissed at you before shrugging for the crowd. “I think our white stag is feeling a bit skittish, but that's nothing a little chase can't fix. The first hunter to catch her claims the first date!”

Chase?

“Run along now, niece,” Uncle Cedrick smirked, nodding toward the trees. Night had officially fallen as he led you down that stone path, the eyes of all the hunters following your every step toward the darkened forest. “You’ve got a ten minute head start, Y/N. Better decide which arrow you'd rather be pieced with tonight.”

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

Notes:

Yes, I dressed Shanks up like Jareth the Goblin King. No, I am not sorry 😅 Who do you think is going to catch our white stag? I'm having so much fun with this game 🥰🏹

You can click HERE for the chapter on Tumblr, and there's a poll at the bottom if you'd like to vote!

Or you can just tell me what you think about our lineup! I've been going crazy over it, especially since I try to stick as close to canon possibility as I can for some weird reason, lol.

 

Chapter 32: Make Your Bets Now!

Summary:

The White Stag is chased through the woods. The hunters begin to show their true colors, while the prey just tries to survive. You might not be the only one running away.

 

Recap:
The banquet is underway, and you were dressed as the White Stag. You met your nine suitors, some of whom came as a shock. You gave each hunter an arrow, a symbol of their right to claim you. Uncle Cedrick just gave you a ten minute head start.

Notes:

Hi!!! Thank you so much for your patience while I've been dealing with all the things! I've still been writing, as you can tell by the word count! (12.5k+) 😬 Lol, I did a poll way back when Shanks first arrived asking if y'all would prefer two regular size chapters with no smut in one, or one giant chapter with the smut. So here ya go, lol. You asked for it! 😅🤭

~

Content Warning:
There's not much dark content to warn for this chapter (besides the usual Numbers Game shenanigans & Buggy's POV on the Dr. Vorsan visit), but I wanted to give a heads up that there is a flashback of the 14 year old reader having a crush on an adult. Nothing occurs, but there is some very mild creepiness that could be interpreted as inappropriate. I WILL NEVER write about minors in that way, so please know that this is just a teenage crush! In case you would like to skip that, I'll bracket it with these ~~~⚫~~~

~

Fic Updates & Questions:
I will be retroactively adding titles to all chapters. I prefer to have titles for every chapter of a fic, but decided not to add them when I thought this was going to be a one shot 🤦🏼‍♀️ (We're getting closer to the end, and outlining will be way easier if I can remember which chapter things happened in, lol.) I'll be going with quotes/lines from the chapters for the title theme.

Since this is a reader insert fic (that I thought would be a one shot 😅), I've tried to keep as many personal details as vague as possible so that we can all hop onto that lovely, green couch. I'm not planning to state the reader's age within the fic, but as we get further into the story, some of you numbers girl's may be able to figure out the math based on flashbacks and dates. I have a whole ass timeline graphed out, so if anyone is interested in knowing the specific ages and dates of related OP canon and Numbers Game canon, I'd be down to make a separate post just for that.

~

!!! SPOILER WARNING !!!
Fic currently contains spoilers for the end of the Wano arc. As we get further into Egghead Arc, there will be some spoilers (mainly from manga cover stories or SBS questions for minor characters' motivations, such as what the Vinsmoke's and Charlotte's have been up to since Wano, and why they'd want to marry our lovely heiress.)

~

Alternate POV Symbols:
🌲 ~ Reader | 🐊 ~ Crocodile | 🗡 ~ Mihawk | 🤡 ~ Buggy | 🔴 ~ Shanks | ⏰ ~ Flashbacks for listed POV | ⚫ ~ Scenes depicting Dark Content as listed in Author's Notes

Extras:
Numbers Game Tumblr Masterlist
Ongoing Series Playlist ~ YouTube Music Link ~ YouTube Link
Chapter Tunes ~ A Forest ~ The Cure | Burn Your Village ~ Kiki Rockwell

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

“I told you to run.”

Uncle Cedrick wet his lips after he hissed at you again, smirking while you transformed for him, and for his silent hunters and cheering guests. 

The white stag. The hunted. The prey. 

You’d never felt less human than you did right now, and the sense of danger in the air sent you racing toward the trees. 

It was disorienting to move in this fumbling body. Some foul magic must have stolen your hooves, your graceful limbs, your fur to fend off the cool breeze of the night. 

All you had left were your antlers, but they couldn’t help you flee. You escaped your heels, kicking free from the tight shoes as though they were traps meant to hold you still for the hunters to find. The dress made you panic, the weight of it wearing you down like trash left to suffocate creatures too helpless to free themselves from human garbage. You tried to lift the heavy skirts while you ran, but the train dragged behind you, catching on roots and branches as you fled. 

Logic started to break through the adrenaline in bits and pieces, but the forest had pulled you into a dream.

“This isn’t a dream,” you panted to yourself, slowing down to lean against a tree. 

That wild panic had left you with no idea how long you’d been running, but your heart was trying to escape from your body, and your lungs struggled to catch up as you let yourself stop. 

That should be enough drama for Uncle’s show. Why should I care who catches me first? I have to date all of them anyway. 

And the fear was back. 

Nine men were about to stalk you through the woods at night, and you’d just run deeper into the darkness, like a fucking idiot.

Though you doubted that staying closer to the courtyard would have made you any safer. All of those leeches were here to watch the show. They’d probably already placed bets on which hunter would get his greedy hands on you first.

Don’t cry. 

You almost did. Every time you thought you could accept your fate, Uncle Cedrick found ways to make it more torturous, more humiliating. 

Apathy tried to protect you, a welcome friend that lulled your emotions to sleep until you stared into nothing, your logical mind reciting your thoughts on a loop to distract from what you were putting away.

I already gave the leeches a good show. It doesn’t matter who catches me first. 

Useless rage replaced your apathy in a flash at the memory of the traitor touching your skin. Shanks was the last man you wanted to catch you, but Uncle’s threats felt like hidden traps, like suffocating trash, like this stupid dress that snagged on every branch. 

I won’t give them anything else to hurt me with. 

Crashes and yells entered the forest like a storm, and you were the white stag again.

You ran. 

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

 

Shanks had only been gone for a day, but the clown found himself aching for him in a way he hadn’t in years. 

Letting Shanks back in had opened the door to all this shit he’d tried to stuff away, but he didn’t have room for all of these feelings right now. Not when his star was slurring her words, her voice high and distant while she tried to convince this fucking doctor that all their time together had meant nothing.

“It was all pretend. I was bored. I know it was risky behavior, I s-see that nn…”

“I’m glad you’re expressing that awareness, Y/N,” Dr. Vorsan’s voice bore down even through her frantic heartbeat, “but you still haven’t talked about the clown. It’s important that we understand our triggers so that we can prevent future episodes.”

She’s not breathing!

“You don’t want to have any more episodes, do you, Y/N?”

“No,” she agreed, though Buggy barely heard her over her now ragged breath. 

“Good. Part of staying well means cooperating with your treatment,” the slimeball purred. “Why did you go with the clown?”

“He was sweet. And funny... I liked him.”

Buggy looked to the ceiling, unknowable emotions pulling his face into a grimace. 

“You just told me that it was all pretend. That you were bored.”

“I, yes…”

“Clarity, Y/N,” the pompous creep scolded. “We can’t make changes if we don’t acknowledge our patterns. Why did you go with the clown?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Buggy growled.

The next words he heard had to be from her lips, but it sounded wrong, as though she’d been possessed by the concept of emptiness itself. His star was hollow. 

Gone. 

“I used him. I wanted to run. I’m selfish.”

No, baby, don’t say that.

The fucker didn’t say anything for too long. He couldn’t hear any rustling, only his empty star, breathing just enough to keep her alive. 

“Your family was very worried for you. That extreme, self destructive behavior—“

“I know,” Y/N snapped, then Buggy heard the sound of skin against skin, as though she’d slapped her hand over her mouth. “I’m s-s-sorry, doctor, I…”

“It’s quite, alright, Y/N,” the man fucking chuckled. “You’ve just experienced an episode that must have caused some additional trauma, but you’re safe now.”

Buggy hadn’t taken notes, and he looked down to find a shredded notepad on his lap, his shaky hands clenching into the paper. 

“Do you want to be safe?”

“Yes, doctor,” Y/N stated, the gravity of a black hole in her voice. 

“Was it safe to run away with pirates?”

What the fuck is he doing to her? 

“No.”

“Good. Now, tell me about the clown.”

Circles and circles of this talk spun through Buggy’s mind, and it seemed like nothing was said, yet he could hear his star break a little more with every word. 

“I’ll rip his tongue out, baby. Make him eat it for you. Don’t listen to him.”

“Excellent work today. Self reflection is difficult, but it’s the only way to heal.”

“Thank… Thank you, doctor.”

“There’s no need to thank me. You have the power to stay well all on your own, as long as you put in the work to take care of yourself. Just try to remember the kind of life you wish to have. You don’t want to lose yourself in another episode, do you, Y/N?”

“No, doctor.”

The clown laid in silence for hours while his broken lover did the same. Somehow Y/N built herself up again, preparing to head to dinner with her sister, and her voice was almost as clear as it had been before the session. 

She keeps all of this inside… I didn’t even—

“Come on, little clown. Don’t eat dinner on the floor again.”

 

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

 

The Emperor of the Sea followed an usher to his seat, feeling high as he twirled the decorative arrow in his fingers. He was lucky to have made it in time, and luckier still that Y/N had looked at him like that. Shanks was sure that it wasn’t really lust in those magnetic eyes of hers. Buggy’s fallen star was difficult to read, but it had to be a message. An opening. 

I’ll get you out of here, Y/N. 

Even Benn’s smirking face couldn’t diminish the flames she’d warmed in him, his first mate pulling his seat out while he approached. The last few tables at the edge of the courtyard seemed filled with guests that were either late or large, the nearest competitor being the two story tall Prince Fukaboshi. 

Before Shanks could greet his rival, Sylvad’s voice carried through the night air, testing the Emperor’s ability to fake a smile. 

“Thank you all for joining our family as we celebrate the hunt for a new member! I am honored to help strengthen the Sylvad legacy by making sure that my enchanting niece finds the most loving, and of course, the most profitable match,” he admitted with a smug laugh. “Just as this marks the beginning of a new era for our family, I’m sure that most of you have sensed the shift in the waters.”

Cedrick paused for effect with Y/N posed like some pretty doll at his side while his guests murmured in agreement.

“For generations, the Sylvad’s have stood in enthusiastic support of the Marines. Although I still pay them an exorbitant amount to show up when I call, their many recent failures, and acts of overreaching, have shown them to be nothing more than expensive, and exceedingly annoying guard dogs.”

The laughter he drew was mixed, both nervous and pleased, and Shanks was sure he wasn’t the only one to catch the threat in those playful words. 

“The world is changing, and I intend to keep my family strong, even if we have to shoo the seagulls away,” he vowed with enough humor to keep the mood light. “But enough about all that, we’re here to enjoy ourselves. Let’s welcome in the New Era together with a good old fashioned hunt!”

Confusion was clouded by the applause Cedrick had demanded with his gestures and tone after he offered Y/N a hand. Watching that man touch her had Shanks’ jaw clenching, holding himself back while she truly looked like prey under his smirking grin.

“I think our white stag is feeling a bit skittish, but that's nothing a little chase can't fix. The first hunter to catch her claims the first date!”

Shanks watched in horror as Cedrick led his niece to the edge of the courtyard, speaking to her too softly to hear before she ran toward the trees, stumbling in that fucking costume he’d stuffed her into. 

Benn nudged his ankle, stopping Shanks from finishing his movement. Gryphon was on the ship anyway, and he wasn’t sure what use his sword would do other than to comfort his helpless soul.

I’m a villain now. Maybe I should just kill everyone here. 

He chugged the glass of wine in front of him, as though swallowing the liquor could help him swallow the layers of guilt that made no sense to him.

The bright light of that wounded star disappeared into the trees, but there was no reprieve. A large, white canvas was rolled out over the side of the manor walls while servants pushed a massive transponder snail on a wheeled cart up the path. The courtyard was silent until the snail’s eyes flickered, its mouth open as sounds of heavy breathing and snapping twigs came through before the live feed was projected. 

Two images appeared on that blank wall, bringing gasps and applause from the guests while Sylvad preened.

“In ten minutes,” he announced, doing a flourish as a timer popped up on the frantic screen, “the hunt for the white stag begins. The man that touches her first wins the hunt, and will earn the first private date tomorrow evening, as well as the pleasure of dining with the lovely doe tonight.”

The lovely doe in question was panting as she kicked off her heels, running barefoot through the woods. On the left was a jostled scene of darkness and trees, but as she looked down to lift her skirts, it was clear that a cam snail must be on her head, maybe hidden in those antlers. The second image continued to flip, showing her running and struggling through the brush from endless angles. 

Does he have a surveillance snail on every fucking tree on this island?

“What a strange courtship custom,” Prince Fukaboshi noted quietly, although his size let the words carry enough for Shanks to let out a sharp laugh, smiling up at the merman to cover his anger before Sylvad continued.

“You may woo my niece however you like, so long as it doesn’t cause her unsalvageable harm, or remove her from this island. I won’t have my vacation home turned into a war zone, so do watch your violence. I know that some of you have had disagreements in the past, but let’s keep the fighting to a minimum unless it’s part of a game, alright lads? We wouldn’t want to spoil the fun for everyone.”

Leeches…

Servants came around to all the tables to take bets from the guests while the courtyard followed the white stag’s every, panicked step. 

Hawk was right, this security is something else.

“This isn’t a dream.”

“Aww, isn’t she a darling,” a diamond-studded, older woman crooned, inspiring more guests to make noises about how precious she looked while she caught her breath, eyes blank as she leaned against a tree. 

“You’re gonna catch that little bunny, aren’t ya, Captain?”

Shanks let out a breath, finally breathing, when he met his first mate’s gaze. Benn was steady, the curve of his lips and shine of his eyes hiding the intensity from those that didn’t know him, but his captain recognized the look. 

It’s time to get serious.

 

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🐊🤡🗡️~~~

 

Easy silence wrapped around the three men during dinner, interspersed with deep, hushed voices, and the scratching of Buggy’s pen while he doodled. He couldn’t help but feel thankful for the less noteworthy hours that had passed since his star had met with the doctor. 

“Zala checked in,” Crocodile reported between bites. “Guess she wasn’t suited to the restaurant business after all.”

“That’s Miss Doublefinger, yes?”

“Not anymore,” he sighed at Mihawk’s question. “Zala used to work well with Daz Bonez, and she’s investigating Dr. Vorsan. Refused to help without bringing Marianne along though… Ms. Goldenweek.”

“The child,” Mihawk questioned, giving a gentle tilt to his head. His lover seemed to get touchy when his old organization was brought up. 

“She’s eighteen now,” came the curt answer, although the larger man almost smiled at those damn, golden eyes. 

“Uncle ChodeTick’s talking to her, taking a walk,” Buggy reported, guilt cutting them off before they could get too flirty. The clown scribbled his notes, the easy silence less easy now. 

Mihawk’s lifetime of dedication to becoming the strongest did nothing for him now. All he could do was watch every subtle, pained expression on Buggy’s face while he suffered, the bravest of them all. 

“The agents are infiltrating the asylum the doctor runs when he’s not fucking with our girl,” Crocodile shared, his voice hushed. 

“Sending a teenager to infiltrate an insane asylum? You are ruthless, aren’t you,” Mihawk flirted lightly. He was learning this man, and for the first time he wasn’t making excuses about why. His tone paid off, and he smirked at the playful look on that scarred face.

“Marianne‘ll be fine, I’m sure she’s looking forward to art therapy. Plus, Zala will— what’s wrong, Buggy?”

The clown gestured for silence while his face went red with rage, listening to the rules, and the threats that her monster of an uncle was caging his star with. 

“FUCK!!”

The nearly empty plates and glasses went flying as Buggy flipped the table, his body shaking in every direction, unable to sit with himself for another second.

“I’m pathetic! I can’t help her. I can’t fucking do ANYTHING!”

Crocodile and Mihawk caught as many pieces of him as they could, and wrapped themselves around Buggy until he breathed again, holding most of his body between them. 

“Don’t say that, Buggy.”

“Shh, little clown. You’ve done enough.”

“He’s gonna make her…” Buggy barely managed to choke out the sound, glad that the asshole had left her alone already. One more word from his lips would have made the him explode. 

Her words were worse though. 

“She said she’s gonna fuck the ones she…” He cried out between their now stiff bodies. “He threatened her with… She has to…”

“She has to do what, Buggy,” Crocodile asked, amazed at how steady his voice was while he knelt down to meet the clown’s tired eyes. He kept his hand stroking along his side, that body slumping instead of flying apart now. 

He couldn’t say it, exhaustion making the clown sway against Crocodile’s touch before he floated his hand toward the mess he’d made of the table. Mihawk caught the notepad, his eyes going apocalyptic as he read over Cedrick’s “rules” for the games.  

The swordsman wanted to fly into violence and rage, to turn to ice, and make everything in his path disappear. 

But Buggy’s eyes made him pause, the words on the page having too many consequences, too much weight. 

“Buggy, she said this in anger, did she not? I doubt she’ll really—“

“You didn’t hear him,” Buggy snapped, starting to float and pace while Crocodile read the notes. The clown snatched the notepad off the floor after the scarred man dropped it, his hand shaking with rage. 

“He’s twisted,” Buggy continued.

“He’s dead,” came a rough voice, the fury of a sandstorm barely contained in that vow. 

“Yes, he is,” Mihawk promised as he reached for Buggy. He pushed that lovely, blue hair behind the remaining ear, almost smiling at the ear plug he found. “We will get her out of there, but we need you sane. If our little rabbit needs to take care of herself, we’ll find a way to keep you—“

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

Buggy floated just out of reach, glaring down at the swordsman as though he’d started speaking some alien language. 

“You shouldn’t have to listen to that, little clown,” Crocodile soothed, resting his own rage when he realized what Mihawk was saying. “If it happens, we’ll make it loud over here so you can’t hear, or you could—“

“You want me to shove my fingers in my ears while her screams echo through the halls,” Buggy hissed. His anger was building up around him, heating the air, strangling any sense of peace from the room as those old words hit their mark. 

The two monsters under his glare froze, shame stunning them into silence. 

“You think I said I’d rather watch you fuck my star into oblivion just for FUN,” he seethed, his eyes going manic while he floated above them. “I’m a sick fuck, and ended up having flashy, old time, but that’s not why I had to watch.”

He was that frightening showman again, and they were drawn into his act. 

“I’m sorry, Bug—“

“I made myself watch while you took her from me,” he recalled in an almost sing-song voice that chilled the other men’s blood. “I watched and watched, because… I have to listen because…”

The crack in his own voice made him waver, dipping in the air a bit while he stared at the pained faces of these terrifying men. 

“What if they hurt her?”

Silence clashed with the cacophony inside their minds until Crocodile reached toward the clown again, gripping into his shoulder, and sending fear flashing through him while their faces grew closer. 

“We’ll kill them.”

“B-but–”

“Come on, brave, little clown,” Crocodile breathed over his trembling lips. “Why don’t you show me all your toys, huh? How many Buggy Balls would it take to blow up that whole fucking island if we need to?”

As they sighed, falling into the relief of distraction together, Mihawk sank against the wall, becoming nothing more than a threatening statue. He could have tried to grab onto the lifeline his lovers had just created, that comforting moment of camaraderie in violence while the clown indulged in and shared one of his favorite topics.

Yet, the swordsman couldn’t let it go. 

His little rabbit, forced to bed her captors again. 

She’s strong. She’s wicked. She’ll enjoy herself. Then we’ll get her back.

The fear that Y/N might enjoy herself enough to not want to return left Mihawk sick. He had to step outside, wandering down to the garden he’d barely thought of since she was no longer there to smell it on him. 

He found himself fisting into the dirt in that walled garden, huffing a laugh when he smelled the faint, sour scent on his fingers before wiping them on his pants. Red flashed in his mind, and the ex-Warlord sat in the dirt, wishing that love and trust were as simple to cultivate as the garden he’d been too preoccupied to plant. 

“I trust you,” Mihawk whispered to his red haired lover across the sea. The thought of how insufferable Shanks would be if he ever uttered those words in front of him brought a soft smile to his lips. “Please, bring her back. I need her by my side.”

 

~~~🐊🤡🗡️~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

Time was a human construct, and as your ungraceful body ran like the prey he had transformed you into, you couldn’t tell how long it took for the yells and crashes to race toward you. 

Eternity. 

One fucking second.

A clearing appeared before you, but as you stepped into the open space, an impossible man filled up your world. He knelt down, still towering over you, and all the sounds of chaos in the forest faded while his crimson eyes asked for permission.

Katakuri reached for you, his massive hand outstretched, but he didn’t grab you. 

There was no way you could describe the subtle shift in those stunning eyes when you lifted your hand to take his, but they went wide before you made contact, his hand shooting out impossibly fast behind you. The giant of a man wasn’t fast enough, and cold fear poured through you before you had a warm body wrapped around yours from behind.

“I’ve got you, bunny,” Shanks purred, breathing a little hard as he pressed his lips against your ear. His arm was wrapped around you, holding you tight, as though you were a prize the others would try to tear from his grip. 

You wished they would.

“If we were allowed to wear our raid suits we would have–”

“Don’t complain, brother,” a taunting voice floated through the trees while Shanks looked you over, never taking his hand off of you while he guided you through the trees. “We’ll have plenty more chances. Our little bride likes being hunted, remember? You heard what the old man said about the Cross–”

A strange noise left your throat when Shanks bent down to wrap his arm under your thighs, lifting you up over his shoulder before running too fucking fast. Running until you saw the lovely lanterns again, until the courtyard came into view.

Your own bedraggled image was spread across the outer wall of the manor, the huge snail showing two screens that flashed through replays of your pathetic race and capture. It showed a few highlights of the hunters, including Shanks smashing through what looked like a wall of giant crackers, and Iceburg crawling on the ground in the wrong direction. Now they displayed various angles of the winner carrying his prize.

Shanks was surreal. No one cheered for the slab of meat he’d claimed, not when the Emperor of the Sea looked like some dark god of the forest, a hero bringing home a feast to his starving people.

The image had you closing your eyes, playing into the exhaustion so you wouldn’t have to look at him anymore. 

“Red Haired Shanks, everyone,” Uncle announced as he slowed the audience’s applause, and you opened your eyes to find him beside you, leading your captor to the head table. “The emperor has earned the first private date tomorrow evening, as well as the seat of honor tonight. I hope everyone worked up an appetite.”

I’m not here.

Both men had their hands on you while they propped you up between them, and you faced the courtyard to find the ravenous guests practically drooling over the sight of your torn and dirty dress. Thankfully your back was to the screen, so you didn’t have to keep watching yourself stumbling through the dark. 

The stragglers made their way back, and your mind kept spacing, floating while your torturers chatted, until dinner arrived. 

Servants carried a long stretch of table over the stone path, “ooh’s” and “aah’s” making you more nauseated the closer it got, until they laid out the mythical beast before you. 

Your uncle had caught a white stag. 

He had caught it, killed it, and was laughing while its dead eyes stared at you, its useless antlers like some tragic centerpiece. Uncle Cedrick ordered its flesh to be passed to every plate, so that each of his friends might share in his auspicious meal. 

“Here’s to those with the heart of a hunter,” he toasted. “May your arrows always hit their mark.”

Every bite they took tore through your own skin, the slow prey gone still while the pack of wolves enjoyed their meal. An animal again, your mind was incapable of reason or words, but even the soul of the deer could feel this truth pulsing deep within the bones that the monsters hadn’t yet picked clean.

You would not survive this. They were going to devour you whole.

 

~~~

 

“Y/N? Sis? Are you okay?”

Some part of you that only existed for your sister reacted to the worry in her voice, blinking up at her while she carefully pulled the antlers off of your head. Another image of the deer’s mutilated body flashed through your mind as you watched her hold them to her chest before turning away, hurrying toward the door. You stared, thoughts thankfully leaving your mind while she threw the cursed antlers down the corridor.

“Are you okay,” she checked in again when she returned her gentle fingers to your hair.

“Yeah,” you cleared your throat, voice coming out raw. “Where is everyone?”

“I’ll get you cleaned up,” Kat assured. Her sharp eyes were wider than normal, but your urge to comfort her couldn’t break through your exhaustion, your delirium. “I didn’t think you’d want all the servants around.”

Gratitude swelled with the lump in your throat while Kat’s soft fingers transformed you, bringing you back to humanity. 

“I’m sorry he’s still such an asshole to you,” your sister breathed, starting to clean the scrapes that littered your legs and feet. “Running through the forest like… You’re getting married, not hunted. He didn’t need to make it so… I’m sorry.”

“Married,” you gave a tired laugh, closing your eyes before you went down the spiral. A hiss left your lips, your body jolting when she dabbed at a particularly unpleasant scrape.

“I’m going to call Dr. Gilli,” Kat announced, stopping you from digging your nails into your thighs. “No one else, and I’ll stay with you, okay?”

“No pills. No shots,” you ordered, too frantic to care about holding it in. 

“Of course not,” she sighed when your breathing started to calm. “I just don’t want to be responsible for your legs falling off from infection. Is that alright with you, sis?”

“Fine.” The slight teasing Kat had managed to put in her tone made your lips twitch, but that hint of relief took all of your energy. Your sister stayed with you, holding your hand while the family doctor looked you over.

Dr. Gilli had always been sweet to you, but the sight of your blood on her gloves while she gushed about how beautiful you looked, and how lucky you were to have such a romantic engagement, made you want to kick that sweet face in. 

“Thank you, doctor,” Kat frowned, shooing the woman out just in time before you punched her in the throat for asking you about babies. 

Kat helped you into bed, crawling in beside you like you were kids again. 

You used to be the big sister. Four years had always felt like such a big gap, especially with everything you had tried to protect her from. 

Until you couldn’t even protect yourself, and Kat had to become the big sister. 

Gratitude and guilt over that fact could never balance out, and as much as you loved her and needed her right now, you ached for her to leave so you could break down. 

Instead, slow tears stained your pillowcase while her comforting presence held you in a quiet cage. 

“It’s only a month,” she whispered while she stroked your hair. “We’re going to find the best husband for you, and then you’ll take over the company. I know it’s scary, but I believe in you, Y/N, just like dad did… I know you’re ready, and I’ll be right here with you.”

Kat’s misplaced trust froze you for what felt like hours, but somehow you fell asleep. Your name echoed through a storm while you watched the wolves tear into her flesh, helpless to keep your sister from the starving beasts.

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

 

For a split second upon waking on the morning of the banquet, Buggy’s first thought hadn’t been panic for her absence, but a hum of pleasure at the warmth surrounding him. 

Guilt sent him flying into pieces to escape Crocodile and Mihawk’s arms, and they blinked up at him as though they’d forgotten her too. Buggy only relaxed when he saw the reality of the day harden their faces. 

Another day full of hushed voices, and waiting. Scribbled notes, and stifled comfort. Fear, and an unsteady hope that Shanks would be the hero again. 

 

~~~

 

“What’s this,” Buggy growled at the wide eyed, young pirate that had set down a bright blue cocktail on Y/N’s desk. He’d found himself sitting there tonight, updating the other men while the suitors were introduced, and he closed his eyes to stay focused on the muffled voices. 

The clown had started to panic earlier when his star was told to leave her locket behind, almost losing her because his gift didn’t fit the “theme.” She must have stuffed it into her dress from the way her heart thumped even louder within him, and he coughed to fight the heat in his throat.

I’m here, baby. I’ve got you.

“You like sweet drinks, don’t you?”

Buggy jolted, pretending that surprised squeak hadn’t just left his throat before he met Crocodile’s eyes across the room. 

“Y-yeah,” Buggy frowned, but he avoided the collection of garnishes and tiny umbrellas to take a sip from the curly straw. He found the taste of pineapple, coconuts, and sooo much sugar, covering up the rum that he most definitely needed. “Thanks.”

The scarred man raised a brow, and Mihawk’s soft chuckle from his own desk added to the shiver going up Buggy's spine.

They’re trying to distract me… 

“Thanks, daddy,” Buggy corrected, almost smiling at that frightening, but pleased face until her voice filled with hope.

‘Mr. Iceburg?’

“Mr. Iceburg,” he repeated while her heart went wild. 

“Iceburg,” Crocodile asked quietly, looking at his own notes. “From Galley La? He wasn’t on the list…”

“She knows him already,” Buggy reported. He tried to let it mean nothing. “She likes him.”

“Of course, Sylvad’s has had ties with Water 7 for generations,” Crocodile nodded, rubbing his hand over his face. 

“She may like him, but she loves you,” Mihawk startled him as he appeared beside her desk. “Don’t forget.”

“I’d never forget that,” Buggy snapped, sighing when wicked fingers teased over his tense shoulders, helping him focus.

He focused on her breath, her heart, while she met all the men vying to touch her, to take her. He focused on trying not to freak out the longer the night went on without hearing that familiar, heroic voice. Their best chance.

“Something’s wrong,” Buggy rasped, hardly hearing Crocodile's chair thump onto the new carpet over the deafening silence of his star forgetting to breathe. It seemed like her heart had stopped beating, until her uncle’s grating voice came through, and then it pounded like a bird smashing itself against a window to try to escape.

“The clothes suit you well, Emperor.”

“I had no idea that fashionable friends could be so generous,” Shanks charmed, his voice a miracle. “Or that I’d have the pleasure of meeting such a gorgeous, little bunny again so soon. Sorry, you're a gorgeous, little doe, aren’t you?”

“It’s Shanks,” Buggy shared, almost jealous of the relief that washed over their faces before he closed his eyes to the world again.

Shanks played the roguish pirate to perfection, and Buggy had no notes for his performance. Even muffled, Sylvad’s voice was clearly satisfied, eating up the Emperor’s words. 

“Red Hair made it? He’s a suitor?”

The soft questions ripped Buggy’s eyes open, and the relief he still saw there made him sick. 

“She hates him.”

“What do you–”

“Who does she–”

“She HATES SHANKS!” 

Buggy didn’t notice when he’d flown into pieces, but he floated erratically before them, trying to understand, trying to explain. 

“How… She didn’t say that out loud, did she,” Mihawk asked after a pause, studying his movements. 

“Why would she hate him,” Crocodile mused. His silver eyes stripped him down as he stepped too close.

“How the fuck would I know,” Buggy yelled, horror filling his veins at the way her heart seemed to fight itself in its cage. “This is how she sounds when she’s with Uncle ShitFuck, or that fucking doctor! She hates Shanks. She HATES HIM! What are we gonna do?”

“Shh, shh, darling,” Mihawk breathed, catching Buggy’s face in both hands while his body still flew through the air. “Y/N thought he was going to steal you from her. If she hasn’t forgiven him, then we’ll just have to find another way.”

“But she–”

Every floating piece of him stuttered in the air when cruel lips kissed his so sweetly. 

“I am long overdue for a hunting trip,” the swordsman teased over his skin, twisting those wicked fingers into his hair. “Having all three of us here is a waste. I’ll go thin out the competition.”

“No.”

The refusal was deep, yet gentle, and that scarred face towered over them both while Crocodile tugged at Mihawk’s chin. 

“We’re not doing that. We can’t go against her wishes, not until we know why she’s doing this.”

Buggy felt pain searing behind his eyes while he tried to listen to two things at once: Cedrick Sylvad’s speech, and the moral dilemma of these ex-Warlords.

“I agree,” Mihawk said evenly, barely sparing a glance while Buggy brought his body back together beside him. “But these men want our little rabbit, and her illustrious name for their own reasons. If it’s possible to convince the worst of them to drop out, then we should try.”

“Are you running away again,” Crocodile sighed, the pressure in the air making Buggy want to sink to the floor.  

“Don’t worry, daddy,” Mihawk purred, expertly slicing through all the tension in the room. “I have a spare earpiece snail, so you can scold me all you like while I’m away.” 

‘Did you hear me,’ Cedrick seemed to hiss at Buggy, swimming in guilt for falling into the distraction of the men before him. 

“Chase?”

“What is it,” Mihawk checked in, scanning his face. 

“No,” the clown paused, more endless horror pouring into him. He had to step away, the sounds of her panic while she raced through the woods sending him into helpless rage. The other men let him feel into it, until he rounded on them again. 

“They’re hunting her like an animal,” Buggy seethed, flinching at the sound of his star falling, panting, pushing herself on. “She’s terrified, she’s– Fuck this!”

A wave of sand hit the door before Crocodile blocked his path, only fueling that need to protect her. 

“Marines on call. Germa Kingdom. Big Mom Pirates. Fishman royalty. And we still don’t know what kind of security forces Sylvad keeps on the island, not to mention whatever the Concealer keeps around him, or the President of Galley La,” the larger man listed, his voice firm, but going soft when he touched Buggy’s cheek. “The second you hear our sweet girl ask for help, or say that she doesn’t wanna be there, I will drain them all to dust… but we still don’t know what he has on her. She told us she wanted to go.”

‘This isn’t a dream…’

In a trance, the clown let the other men lead him to that flashy, green couch, his notepad and fruity drink set up on the new coffee table while he slumped into her spot between them. 

“Shanks got her,” he reported, unable to share in their relief with the sound of her strangled breaths so loud in his head. He could barely hear a thing in her world now, the muffled voices beyond theirs were too difficult to make out, especially when another heartbeat filled his mind. His old friend must have been carrying her, and the sound of both of their hearts pounding so close made his gloves damp when he rubbed at his tired eyes. 

“Don’t worry,” Mihawk tugged at him gently until Buggy curled in against his exposed chest. The swordsman didn’t recoil from the faded paint, or the hot tears that streaked down his skin the longer the clown let himself stay there. “If our little rabbit doesn’t trust our hero, then we’ll just convince the rest of the suitors to give up the hunt.”

“Try not to start any wars, little prince,” Crocodile hummed, setting his massive hand over Mihawk’s where it was resting on Buggy’s thigh. 

“War is tedious. I am looking forward to a peaceful life,” Mihawk vowed, stroking Buggy’s hair while the man let exhaustion relax him deeper into his lap. “We just need to retrieve our lovers first.”

 

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

“Oh sweetie, you look so–”

“Take a bite.”

Mom’s too shiny smile hardened slightly before she tasted your oatmeal, avoiding the servants that hovered around you in clouds of makeup and hair spray. 

“You’re about to have brunch with your suitors,” she reminded you when you snatched the food from her, practically inhaling it before more pencils or brushes could touch your lips. “Don’t you think it will look strange if you don’t eat with them?”

“You don’t seem to care how strange it looks to sell off your own daughter,” you laughed, noticing a servant’s eyes widen just a fraction when they took your empty bowl. “I’m cooperating, but I will not be leaving my food or drinks unattended until I feel safer. You want your child to feel safe, don’t you, mother?”

“I found some,” Kat beamed when she barged through the door, waving a deck of playing cards above her head. She tossed it to you, and you gasped, surprised that you caught it from the air before it could hit one of the staff. Thankfully, the full skirted dress you’d been stuffed into this morning had pockets, so you tucked your little game away, forcing your mom to taste the rest of your breakfast before the brunch dates began.

But Kat was making that face. Little sister face. 

“What’s that,” you gestured toward the item she had tried to conceal when she sat across from you, tucking it behind her body.

“Just some trash I found in the hall. Do you want some more coffee?”

“Give it,” you ordered, giving her big sister face.

“It’s nothing we didn’t already know, okay? So just…”

“At least I’m not the only one being used,” a sharp laugh left your throat. “How much berry do you think he’s making off of this game?”

Mom ordered the staff to leave before leaning toward Kat, and didn’t whisper quietly enough on her way out.

“Brunch is about to start. Make sure she looks presentable.”

“Can’t sell me off if I'm not pretty, can you?”

“Y/N,” she started, looking convincingly hurt, but Kat got her out of the room before either of you could make it worse. 

You stared at the “trash” in your lap, the crisp scent of expensive ink and paper filling your lungs while you examined the brochure. 

‘Which Hunter Will Claim Her?’

That tantalizing question was scrawled across every page, while the nine suitors each had their own section, their profile, their face, and a stupid little quote about winning you. This barbaric game was disguised behind a snooty font spread over images of dappled sunlight through Sylvad trees, and decorated with arrows and leaves.

Cedar leaves.

You wanted to tear it to shreds, but you were pulled in, studying every detail.

 

~~~~~~

~~~~~~

• Giberson
• Age: Couldn’t Recall
• Height: Misplaced Measurements
• Birthday: August 14th
• Title: “Warehouseman”
• Favorite Food: Rye Whiskey
• How he plans to win: “I’m sure the lovely lady and I will have a delightful time. You don’t get to be my age without learning a few tricks.”

~

• Ichiji
• Age: 21
• Height: 186 cm (6'1")
• Birthday: March 2
• Title: Prince of the Germa Kingdom
• Favorite Food: Strawberries and Whiskey
• How he plans to win: "I’m a Vinsmoke."

~

• Niji
• Age: 21
• Height: 185 cm (6'1")
• Birthday: March 2nd
• Title: Prince of the Germa Kingdom
• Favorite Food: Blueberries and Scotch
• How he plans to win: “She’s coming with us. If I don’t win, there’s two more Vinsmoke’s.”

~

• Yonji
• Age: 21
• Height: 194 cm (6'4")
• Birthday: March 2
• Title: Prince of the Germa Kingdom
• Favorite Food: Green Peas
• How he plans to win: “I wouldn’t mind ending up with a woman like her, so I’m gonna turn her into a princess.”

~

• Iceburg
• Age: 40
• Height: 199 cm (6'6")
• Birthday: January 3
• Title: President of the Galley-La Company, and Mayor of Water 7
• Favorite Food: Curry Made by an Old Friend. A Drunk, Old Friend.
• How he plans to win: “Mm, well... I suppose I’ll win because I know her best.”

~

• Fukaboshi
• Age: 24
• Height: 604 cm (19’10”)
• Birthday: February 4th
• Title: Prince of the Ryugu Kingdom
• Favorite Food: Abalone Steak
• How he plans to win: “I hope that she carries peace in her heart. If she does, I will stop at nothing to earn her love.”

~

• Cracker
• Age: 45
• Height: 307 cm (10'1")
• Birthday: February 28th
• Title: Sweet Commander of the Big Mom Pirates, and the Minister of Biscuit
• Favorite Food: Biscuits. Dislikes Kimchi and Carbonated Drinks.
• How he plans to win: “Easy. I’ll outdo them all.”

~

• Katakuri
• Age: 48
• Height: 509 cm (16'8½")
• Birthday: November 25th
• Title: Sweet Commander of the Big Mom Pirates, and the Minister of Flour
• Favorite Food: Doughnuts. Dislikes hot ramen.
• How he plans to win: “I will win because I must.”

~

• Shanks
• Age: 39
• Height: 199 cm (6'6")
• Birthday: March 9
• Title: Emperor of the Sea
• Favorite Food: Kimchi Fried Rice and Lobster. Dislikes Blueberries.
• How he plans to win: “Just gonna show the cutie a good time.”

~~~~~~

 

‘Make Your Bets Now!’

Kat was right. You knew that the audience was enjoying the game, gambling while you just tried to survive, trying to secure the least abhorrent future that you could. 

“Venison…”

“Heeyyy,” Kat fumbled through positivity as she pulled the brochure from your white-knuckled grip. “At least we know how tall they are now!”

“I love you,” you thanked her, amazed that you could still laugh.

 

~~~

 

“Such pretty, little fingers… I hope I pass your test.”

“It’s not a test,” you lied, shuffling cards instead of tearing the old man’s eyes out. “Just a game.”

“It has to be the Queen of Hearts,” Giberson winked over his Bloody Mary.

“It’s the Four of Diamonds.”

“So you are choosing the next winner,” he scolded lightly when your prediction was revealed.

“How could I possibly choose when I have so many charming options,” you reminded him as you pushed the deck across the table so he could shuffle for himself. You weren’t ready to pick and choose between these hunters. There’d been no time to feel them out. 

So they had to guess.

The lighthearted brunch felt anything but with so many eyes on your skin, especially with Uncle’s giant projector snail that blew up your image across the building again. All the smaller snails circled around you, their slow, unreal eyes reminding you how trapped you were.

Always trapped.

“That’s alright, dear. Making decisions is tough, isn’t it? I’ve been hearing about what a smart girl you are though! So, what’s the card?”

The old man’s condescension was so typical, you were contemplating rooting for him, just so you could end up with a predictable partner.

“Jack of Hearts,” you smiled after counting down twenty two cards out loud, yet again.

“Whew, that sure is something,” Giberson waved the Jack of Hearts he’d revealed, making sure the rest of the guests could see while he bragged about you, as though your skills were somehow reflective of his own talents. 

As though he already owned you.

“You shuffled,” you teased, guiding him to set up the trick one more time. “Can you guess the card?”

“Queen of Hearts,” he winked again.

Gross. At least he might die soon, that’s a plus.

 

~~~

 

“You look beautiful this morning, Y/N,” the firstborn Vinsmoke brother purred when he took Giberson’s seat. 

Every moment was on full display for the other suitors, and for the guests that had stayed on the island for the entertainment. It seemed that the courtyard was to be your new realm, with plenty of space for your much taller dates to join you at your little breakfast table that was set up on a slightly elevated platform. 

A stage. 

“Thank you, Prince Ichigi. You’re looking quite well yourself.”  

Fuck.

It wasn’t a lie, and your pulse sped at the smug smile he gave when he tilted his head down to examine you over his dark, red glasses. 

There was something dangerous in that smile, and the fact that he didn’t even try to hide it made you pause, not sure how best to deal with this entitled prince.

“What does our lovely bride enjoy when she’s not being chased,” Ichiji purred, already claiming you with his words. His sunglasses did little to hide his eyes as they raked over your skin. 

“I enjoy numbers. Mathematics,” you almost squeaked. Heat rose up to your cheeks while you started to shuffle the cards, noticing the number “1” embroidered on his maroon cloak while you explained the goal of the card trick. 

“Seven of Clubs.”

“I’m sorry, Prince Ichiji, you’re wrong again.”

You had to risk a small sip from your untested water glass to fight the dryness on your tongue.

“That’s alright,” Ichiji teased, nodding at the sound of bells marking his time. “That’s why my family always brings numbers.”

“My turn, brother,” the blue haired prince announced as he clapped him on the shoulder. 

“Be nice to our little princess, Niji,” he ordered, pressing your knuckles to his lips before heading back toward the rest of his family. 

“Of course,” your new date smirked, leaning back in his chair with his hands clasped behind that blue head of hair. 

The large spikes and swoops of his hairstyle covered one of his eyes under his gold sunglasses, hiding one of the eyebrows that you kept trying not to glance at. The three brothers shared an odd curl to the ends of their brows, You couldn’t tell if it was a cosmetic choice, but didn’t want to risk insulting such powerful men in case they were sensitive about it.

“Don’t tell me my brother already wore you out,” he clicked his tongue, snapping you out of your memories. 

“I’m so sorry, Prince Niji, I must still be tired from the banquet. What were you saying?”

“Fetch our little bride some coffee,” he snapped at the nearest servant, banging lightly on the table until the dishes rattled.

His harsh tone was almost enough to make you forget your precautions, but you had enough to worry about without the uncertainty of who prepared your drink.

That curly brow raised with satisfied surprise when you rested your hand over his, his lips parting while he ate up your act.

“Would you mind sharing your coffee, Prince Niji? I’d hate to waste any more of our time waiting to wake up.”

“What’s mine is yours, princess,” Niji purred. He caught your hand as you pulled away, and you let him hold it while you drank from his mug. His coffee was unbelievably sweet.

Stop. Don’t think about…

“Thank you,” you hummed, swallowing the heat in your throat while you tried to not to look at his blue hair with that practically syrupy coffee still on your tongue. “Will you help me with a little trick?”

 

~~~

 

“It’s up to you, little brother,” Niji reported when his time ran out. 

“Don’t worry, I’ve been watching these pretty hands,” Yonji assured him, kissing your fingers before he sat down. His dark eyes seemed fierce without colored glasses to hide them, and his green hair was slicked back instead of swooping up and out like his older brothers. He wasn’t hiding his interesting features.

“So you think you know the trick,” you challenged, giving him a chance. 

“I think I’ll win your heart,” he swooned, and the sappy look on his face made your hands fumble while you shuffled the deck. 

He focused intently now as you laid them out, and revealed certain cards, counting down to the guess. 

“What card is—“

“Three of Spades,” he blurted out. “What’s your guess?”

“Three of Clubs.”

“Again.”

The youngest prince refused your small talk, avoiding your gaze until his final guess.

“King of Hearts,” Yonji beamed, puppy dog eyes finally on your face again. “What’s your guess, princess?”

Would it be weird to marry Kat’s favorite?

You didn’t glance at your sister, but knew she’d be watching while the green haired prince scored the first point, hearts practically floating around his head when you revealed the card. 

“I told you, princess,” Yonji vowed as he stole a quick peck to your cheek. “I’ll be the one to win your heart.”

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🌲🌲🌲⏰~~~

~~~⚫~~~

 

The man that had won your heart beamed when he saw you gazing up at him. His blue hair seemed to glow in the sun, but nothing could gleam like those strong arms, slick with sweat while he climbed down the ropes to meet you on the deck of the ship.

“Oh my, look at you,” Iceburg hummed, tying a bandana over his hair to catch that salty water before it dripped down his face. You stared at those gorgeous, purple tattoos that crawled down his shoulders and arms before he patted the top of your head. “Where’s your dad hiding?”

“He had to take a call, but I helped him write this proposal, so he said I could bring it to you,” you squirmed, handing him the file.

“He’s got you working at thirteen,” he whistled, taking the document while he shook his head. 

“I’m fourteen now,” you declared. 

You couldn’t keep yourself from rolling onto your toes a bit, lifting your chin in hopeful challenge. 

“You’re gonna be running things soon, huh,” he smirked.

Mind going absolutely blank under his attention, you just gaped at him like a fucking creep.

“This ship’s almost finished.” Iceburg leaned close, knocking on the railing behind you. “Would you like a tour? It is your family’s wood that makes it so strong, after all.”

“I– Are you sure? I’ll be fine waiting if you need to get back to work. You don’t need to watch me.”

The desire to follow him around like a puppy was overpowered by the distaste at him feeling the need to babysit you, but the look on his face made you laugh, forgetting it all.

“I don’t wanna go back to work,” the handsome shipwright complained, scrunching up his face in a pout that rivaled your sister’s. “I’d rather show you around, and grab some lunch when your dad gets here. Can we?”

“Okay!”

~~~

This gorgeous, lovely man knew more about Sylvad wood than most of dad’s executives. Listening to him talk about it always made you happy, knowing that your family was part of something so important, so loved. 

Iceburg led you through the ship, telling you how he had worked each piece of lumber, how it all moved with the wind and the waves, even guiding you to slide your hand along the trees your family had grown, smooth and silky to the touch after he’d treated them. 

“Beautiful, isn’t it,” he praised softly, watching your hand against the wood before pulling a pen from his toolbelt. “Well, let’s go get some food, girlie. You can tell your dad what a great job you did presenting your proposal.”

“But you didn’t even read it,” you blurted out, shocked when he pressed the document against a wall to sign his name.

“You and Arbo are good people, plus you’ve got the best lumber in the world,” he laughed while he led you up the stairs toward the sound of footsteps. “I trust you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Iceburg… but you just agreed to build a small fleet to expand our shipping operations in the East Blue. Are you sure you’ll have time for that while you help Tom finish the sea train? Hi, daddy!”

“There’s my girl,” your dad grinned, kissing your temple when you joined him on the deck. “Make any deals without me?”

Iceburg handed the document over, waving his own copy in your direction. Your skin flushed with heat again when he snuck you a wink while your dad glanced at his signature. 

“She’s very convincing. You’ll be able to retire in no time if she keeps this up.”

He was the perfect man. Strong, kind, silly, sweet, and so painfully hot, it drove you mad. You’d had a few crushes on your classmates over the last couple of years, but nothing compared to the way you felt when Iceburg looked at you like that. 

“I don’t doubt it,” your dad praised. He wrapped his arm around the shipwright’s shoulders, nodding his head toward the docks. “Is Kokoro still making that delightful curry?”

“I’ll never let her stop,” Iceburg laughed while he led the way. “Tom should be over there too, let’s go grab some lunch and catch up.”

“Sounds perfect. Do you want to come, sweetheart?”

 

~~~⚫~~~

~~~⏰🌲🌲🌲⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

He’s not who I thought he was. He’s a creep. Another leech trying to latch on and drain as much berry from me as he can. Don’t forget. 

You were pathetic, getting flustered while he watched your hands, his calm voice taking away all your caution. 

“I have to apologize,” Iceburg hummed while you shuffled.

“Why is that?”

“Mm, well,” he looked down at his striped jacket while he patted his pocket. “I left Tyrannosaurus with my secretary. I didn’t think bringing a pet would be… I should be more focused on you.”

“What do you— oh!”

The cards scattered across the table when you jumped, laughter sneaking out of you. 

“This is Velociraptor,” Iceburg announced as a field mouse crawled out of his breast pocket. “I found him during the chase, I hope it’s alright to have pets during our stay. Are you okay, Y/N?”

“I’m fine, sorry,” you recovered from losing yourself in that laughter before gathering the cards again. Your eyes were still watering when you watched the cute creature dive back into his pocket after a few soft pets from his strong fingers. “Can you guess the card?”

“Oh my,” his brows furrowed, watching your waiting hands. “I really need to pay attention, don’t I? I’d love to spend some more time with you.”

He leaned forward, his height making him tower over you at the little table, and you found yourself blinking up at him.

Forgetting.

“I…”

“Is it the Seven of Clubs?”

“No, Mr… No, Iceburg.”

 

~~~

 

Prince Fukaboshi was led through the courtyard by a few attendants, both fishmen and mermen featured amongst the group. He looked down at you, mouth opening to speak before Uncle’s voice carried over.

“Why don’t we give our hunter a closer look?”

Grabbing onto the edge of the table took all of your focus, and you knew that your fake smile fell when you started moving through the air. The ground flew away, the wooden platform beneath you rising up toward the prince, gentle surprise on his face.

The snails on the table didn’t seem phased by the change in elevation, and it was hard to pretend they didn’t exist while they slowly shifted positions to better capture you and your date for the audience below. 

You decided not to look down to determine what kind of contraption had lifted you so high, instead looking at the prince before you. Fukaboshi took up your entire field of vision, and it was easy to see the concern on his expansive face.

“Are you alright, Miss Sylvad?”

His teeth look so sharp…

“Please, Prince Fukaboshi,” you trembled, focusing on the cards as much as you could, “call me Y/N. Can you guess the— oh, I’m sorry, are you familiar with these sorts of playing cards?”

You were barely hanging on. He spoke, he guessed, and you could feel the rumble of his voice even though your mind wasn’t quite letting it in. Your body performed without you, your lips reciting words that carried no meaning. 

“This courtship custom is unlike any I have seen before,” the prince frowned while you set up the cards for the last guess. “Since it is all strange to me, I couldn’t be certain, but…”

The pause was long enough for you to meet his eyes, so large, and filled with what looked like compassion. 

No. 

“Miss Y/N, I am seeking your hand so that my people can gain protection and resources so that they never suffer the cruelty and humiliation of slavery again,” Fukaboshi declared. The snails on the table lowered their eyes, but his voice boomed too loud to hide. 

Bells. 

“That is—“

“I never want to see anyone treated the way my sister was by those monsters at the Reverie.”

“Monsters?”

The dangerous question barely made it past your lips before the platform jolted, slowly bringing you down, away from his determined face while the bells kept ringing. 

“Are you being held against your will? I cannot abide another moment of this if you are being used like a pet for their amusement.”

“N-no,” you panicked, craning your neck to see him while you shook your head, hands pleading, voice dripping with lies. “You are so kind, thank you, Prince Fukaboshi! I’m sorry, I must seem scared, but I’m just nervous. This is all a bit overwhelming, but I promise I am glad to be here!”

“Your turn’s over, Prince. You heard the girl.”

Cracker’s manic smile appeared as the table sank to the ground. It felt like your frantic heart had been left in the sky, floating up there with those huge, concerned eyes. 

“Thank you, Prince Fukaboshi,” you beamed, feeling forever selfish at the temptation. 

I can’t risk a stranger, a whole kingdom. I’m not worth it. 

Neither of us would make it out alive anyway. 

“It has been my honor,” he said evenly, though his eyes were scanning the crowd now, a new tension held within his enormous, warrior’s body. 

The snails woke up, those slow moving eyes reminding you that the show must go on.

“You’re a good girl, aren’t you?”

“I’m sorry?” 

Cracker sat down, and the platform probably should have lifted a bit as the shirtless man was closer to your reality, but he was still even taller than… 

You had to stop comparing these men to your daydreams. 

“Eight of Diamonds… Damn,” he brushed off his loss before looming over you. His dark, brown glove was softer than you expected it to be when he cupped your cheek, almost the whole side of your face. 

“You understand family duties, don’t you?”

All you could do was nod under the wild look he gave you.

He’s fucking unstable.

“That’s good. Family is everything.”

Is he flirting? 

A dangerous giggle almost escaped, but you kept it in, smiling sweetly while he failed every guess.

The bells finally rang out, but they couldn’t save you from his last words, his promise.

“Our family needs you, Y/N. I don’t care if you’re my wife or my sister, I’ll protect you with my life.”

 

~~~

 

This time you were grateful for the moving platform, a reason to look away from Cracker’s confident face. The true reason for the movement came into view, his brother waiting patiently for you to settle just below his eye level. 

Those eyes… 

Charlotte Katakuri was too fucking tall. Too fucking scary. Crimson eyes assessed you, his arched brows and sharp nose not nearly harsh enough to distract from those thick, dark lashes of his.

He’s too fucking pretty.

Now that you were this close, you could see scars on both of his cheeks. They led down toward his mouth, still concealed by that massive scarf. Prince Fukaboshi’s sharp teeth came to mind when you wondered what he could be hiding, so you shuffled and shuffled, trying to think about anything else.

“It’s good to see you, Y/N,” his polite voice made you shiver, seeming to vibrate the elevated stage you were perched on. 

“Same to you, Katakuri,” your voice shook. You couldn’t afford to show this much fear. Predators always looked for weak prey. “Would you mind helping me with a little trick?”

“If that’s what you wish,” he agreed. There was no way to tell if the hint of a smile you heard in his voice was truly hidden beneath his scarf, but it set you on edge, nonetheless. 

“Can you guess the card?”

“It’s the Ten of Hearts.”

He stated it as if it were true, as if he were simply remarking on the weather around him.

And it was true. You’d known it before you revealed it, this simple math trick like the comforting rhythm of a familiar heartbeat. 

“You’re right,” you breathed when you turned it over. “Care to go again?”

Katakuri nodded slowly, but his eyes never left your face, ignoring the cards on the table until you asked for his next guess.

“The Queen of Hearts.”

“Yes. Have you seen this trick before?”

“In a way,” came his cryptic response. “Shall we go again?”

He definitely wasn’t paying attention to the cards. Those stunning eyes were so fucking intense as they bore into your skin that you almost forgot to do the math before you asked for his next guess.

Then you wished you had forgotten.

“What’s the–”

“Shuffle again.”

“But you haven’t–”

You stopped breathing when one of his giant hands shot toward you, his fingers sooo fucking big when he laid them over yours. 

Delicate. This giant was gentle when he covered your hands, covered the cards, practically covered half the little table.

“This card makes you sad,” he whispered, though there was no point with all the surveillance, and with his booming voice at the center of attention. But still, he whispered. “Why don’t you shuffle again?”

Fuck. fuckfuckfuck. Stop. 

There you go. Just smile. 

A small miracle let you slip out of your body, out of your mind, while you shuffled the unrevealed Six of Spades back into the deck. 

Katakuri was still quiet, still watching. So polite while he guessed the right card, letting you pull yourself back together.

Hiding all the struggle behind your Sylvad smile.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he touched your hand again when the platform started to lower. “I’m looking forward to our next meeting.”

You hadn’t noticed the bells.

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🐊🤡🗡️~~~

 

“When are you leaving?”

“There’s no point in waiting,” Mihawk avoided the larger man’s eyes. “The sooner I convince the competition to back out, the sooner Y/N will be free of them.”

“Yeah, but how,” Buggy sighed from his lap, the swordsman’s skilled fingers nearly dragging him down to sleep already. “How the fuck are you gonna convince these assholes that they don’t wanna marry her? She’s perfect! Plus, they get in on that stupid company, and get whatever other bullshit DickHole is selling. What can you do besides poke ‘em with your fancy stick?”

“That’s what I plan to find out,” Mihawk smiled, though the finality in his tone was enough.

“Come on, Buggy,” Crocodile nudged his legs aside, offering the clown his hand while he stared at their determined lover. “Let’s remind our little bird why he should fly back home when he’s done pecking people’s eyes out.”

Buggy let out an exhausted giggle while Mihawk shivered, his eyes rolling back just a bit. Just enough.

“You thought you could run away that easily, huh,” Crocodile threatened with his words, and with the tip of his hook below that sculpted chin.

More guilt almost tore the clown away while he watched them, but Buggy chugged his sugary drink, grateful for the quiet of faraway sleep. He started to pull the swordsman up by the collar of his frighteningly fancy jacket, and that arched brow was an instinctual warning.

The clown heeded the warning, loosening his grip on the jacket, only to yank the man off the couch by his hair. Crocodile joined in on his smug laughter, roughly pulling Mihawk against him before he’d stopped moaning from the unexpected pain.

“You’re not leaving tonight.”

Heavy. 

Whatever they held between them felt heavier than either had expected.

“I’ll go get the bed ready,” Buggy sighed as he half floated toward the door, “but I’ll need another drink if you guys take too long.”

 

~~~🗡️🤡🐊~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🗡️🐊🗡️🐊~~~

 

“Are you alright?”

Mihawk laughed at the question, and Crocodile wanted to shake him. He was sick of seeing his lovers fall apart right in front of him, with nothing he could do, or even understand.

He ached to understand this man. They had faced each other in battle just a few years ago, but that Summit War felt like a fever dream now.

Not that this new life didn't feel like a dream.

This man…

Crocodile kept getting him. Meeting him in ways that both surprised, and soothed him. 

Mihawk laughed again at the thought of new vocabulary, but Crocodile pulled him close.

“I’m not ready to lose my business partner,” Crocodile confessed, the words too heavy for the smirk he tried to give. 

The words were enough.

Mihawk laid his deadly fingers along that silk vest, silently asking for a kiss while he stared up at the taller man. 

The swordsman felt like a fraud. 

How could someone like him that had carried nothing for so long be filled with so much? He didn’t want to lie anymore than he already had. 

Crocodile gave him what he wanted. A heavy kiss.

“Let’s not keep our clown waiting,” Crocodile rasped, tracing his thumb along Mihawk’s sharp features. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

 

~~~🗡️🐊🗡️🐊~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🗡️🤡🐊~~~

 

They’re holding hands… 

Crocodile and Mihawk had called through the door, all of their hands occupied until Mihawk handed the slack-jawed clown another cocktail. 

“Nice room service,” Buggy tried to recover. 

“Come here, little clown.”

The scarred man let go of one lover to reach for another. Cupping his hand along Buggy’s jaw, with those large fingers combing into the hair at the back of his neck, Crocodile breathed down on him until he was nodding, red lips still parted.

“I haven’t been giving you enough attention,” Crocodile purred, squeezing his face lightly when Buggy tried to argue. “But it looks like we’re gonna have plenty of alone time soon. Plenty of time for me to spoil you.”

“Y-yup! Lots of…”

“Is that what you want?”

“Sure, whatever you say, bos— Yes, daddy.”

“Good boy.”

Buggy disconnected at the ankles to float up into Crocodile’s deep kiss. He nearly spilled his drink before the larger man lowered him down again, eyes dark and satisfied while he watched his clown. 

“You deserve more attention, but you handled him so well. Help me remind—“

“Let’s fuck him up, daddy!”

Buggy downed his drink with one hand while the other snuck past Crocodile’s body to wrap around Mihawk’s throat. 

“You do know that I’m still Dracule Mihawk, don’t you?”

Wicked fingers dug into the floating hand, dragging it down his own chest while he resisted. 

“Whatcha gonna do, Hawkeyes? Stab me? Slice me,” Buggy laughed, setting down his glass before sending his other hand. 

Crocodile started to undress, chuckling softly at his boys. 

The air shifted as danger, delicious danger, poured from the swordsman while he leaned into Buggy’s touch, forcing his floating hands closer to his own body with every taunting step.

“I’m going to play.”

Mihawk’s golden eyes seemed to flicker with his threat, and Buggy felt a flash of fear, a glimpse of a beast. In that moment, he almost gave in, almost let the beast win.

Wherever his burst of confidence came from, Buggy went with it.

“Why don’t you play with daddy’s balls then, huh, crybaby?”

One of the clown’s hands broke free from that hold, and Mihawk couldn’t fight the moan that tore through him when gloved fingers ripped into his hair again, forcing him to look at Crocodile. The larger man was so very large, stroking himself while he sat on the edge of the bed. 

Gods, that fucking cock.

Buggy took advantage of Mihawk’s wonderment by kicking the backs of his knees until he hit the floor, and wrapped himself around the swordsman’s back to leave lipstick-stained bites along his neck. 

“Don’t lie. You wanna get fucking wrecked, don’t you?”

“I don’t like liars,” Crocodile teased, circling his thumb over his tip, taking in a quick breath of satisfaction at the desperate look on Mihawk’s face at the sight. “Do you want us to wreck you, little prince?”

Mihawk melted as that lovely hook pressed into his throat. Buggy rubbed himself against his back, and the swordsman laughed, feeling entirely fucking spoiled. 

“Please, daddy.”

What a fucking sight… 

The scarred man still couldn’t understand how these lovely men were somehow his, not after everything he’d done, everything he’d felt before. Watching Mihawk beg so sweetly while Buggy stripped him made Crocodile’s cock so hard it almost hurt, his rough fingers easing up against that sensitive flesh, until wicked fingers, wicked lips, replaced his own grip. 

“Fuck. Such an evil little mouth you’ve got– Shit…”

Buggy realized his own mouth was hanging open as he undressed, but he couldn’t care to close it while he watched Mihawk swallow more than looked humanly possible.

“Help me out, Buggy,” Crocodile groaned while he gripped Mihawk’s hair, his hand bobbing up and down with that pretty face. “Stretch out our filthy prince for me. No way he’s leaving here before I ruin that perfect, little ass.”

Sloppy, muffled whines escaped him, and Mihawk’s eyes rolled at the daunting threat. Buggy was there, lubed, and ungloved fingers fucking into him until he shook with need, with pleasure. 

“Get over here,” Crocodile growled, stepping back to yank Mihawk toward the bed by the hook around his neck. Buggy helped him along, floating hands lifting that moaning form into place. 

Mihawk’s place was on his hands and knees in the center of the bed, and he lost himself there in the tender and vicious touches his lovers showered him with. In their praise and teasing, pleasure and pain. In the taste of Buggy’s skin as he shoved his cock down his throat. 

He absolutely fucking lost himself when Crocodile lined himself up. He was the world’s greatest swordsman, and he enjoyed pain a great deal. Yet his former enemy was about to pierce him so thoroughly that Mihawk whimpered around Buggy's length, almost afraid. 

Then he felt nothing but that heavy cock, stretching, and claiming, and filling him until tears streamed from his golden eyes.

“So good, so fucking good for me,” Crocodile grunted. He dragged his hook down Mihawk’s side, still not believing what he was seeing. 

Dracule fucking Mihawk, moaning around a clown’s cock while his pretty, little hole sucked him in again and again. 

“Let’s give our twisted prince what he wants, eh, Buggy? Make sure he remembers where he belongs.”

Buggy stuttered in agreement, nearly gone before he obeyed. He tore at Mihawk’s hair while his other hand scraped brutally down his back. The twitching that his rough hands caused forced his cock even deeper until he spilled his pleasure down that desperate throat.

Crocodile sliced his hook around the swordsman’s body, pouring red from that perfect chest while he stuffed his little prince full. The overwhelming sensations had Mihawk coming harder than he’d thought possible, and the sounds he made were unreal. Pathetic. 

Music to the ears of his sated lovers. 

The clown didn’t need to be ordered or asked, Buggy just helped Mihawk stay steady while they pulled out of him. So many praises showered them both while the swordsman just breathed, assessing his every, vicious ache. 

Crocodile hated to leave for even a moment, but he didn’t need to worry. Buggy’s hands had already flown to the bathroom to wash themselves, spilling a bit of soap on the counter before grabbing what he needed. When Crocodile returned from the shower, Buggy was still wiping the other man clean, humming while he trailed gently over that perfect skin. 

Mihawk’s skin was littered with scars of battle and lust, of trust, and he had just enough energy for a weak smile as Buggy’s fingers danced over them all. He moaned, twitching in those gentle arms while his lovers washed him in the shower, no way to recover this soon. 

“Don’t whine, crybaby,” Buggy mumbled, too focused on cleaning and bandaging his wounds while Mihawk melted into the burn. “We’ll slice you up some more when you get back.”

“He’s right,” Crocodile hummed. Seeing these lovely boys taking care of each other gripped something deep within his chest. Whatever it was sparked fear in him, so much so that he had to pause while they laid Mihawk on the fresh sheets between them. 

I can’t lose them. Can’t lose any of them. 

“We’ll be waiting, little bird,” he pressed a kiss to Mihawk’s temple. Contented, sleepy sounds filled the air, and he tried to trust that this lovely new world wasn’t about to end. “Fly back home, alright?”

He couldn’t shape words, but Mihawk hummed his promise before he drifted away.

Home…

 

~~~🗡️🤡🐊~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

“Morning, Y/N— well, afternoon by now, isn’t it?”

You shuffled just to have something to focus on while you simpered for him. 

The traitor. 

“Good afternoon, Shanks. I’m looking forward to our date this evening. Since you already won, I’m afraid you’re out of the running for the next date. We have to give everyone a chance, of course.”

“Of course.” 

You couldn’t fucking believe the charm that oozed off of him when he beamed at you. 

“I’d still like to try your little game though, if that’s alright, gorgeous?”

Shanks stayed quiet while you laid out the cards, some face up, some face down, before you counted down twenty two from the remaining deck. 

A comforting rhythm, the answer already dancing in your mind. 

“It’s the Eight of Clubs,” Shanks purred, touching the back of your hand. Lingering against your skin.

He looked so fucking smug. 

A sick stillness went through you before you revealed his answer. 

Of course, he knows this trick. He probably learned it before the first time he betrayed—

“Let’s go again,” Shanks ordered, the heat in his voice sending shivers across your shoulders, crawling up your neck. 

The eyes of his competition were on you, but the Emperor looked at you like you were already his. Like you were spread out before him, venison for the skilled hunter to devour. 

“Shuffle,” Shanks threatened, catching your chin in his dangerous fingers. 

Just smile. Just pretend.

“I’m not done playing with you yet, little bunny.”

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

 

Notes:

Oh my goodness. Thank you so much for waiting, and for reading that giant chapter!! 🥰🙏🏼 I hope you enjoyed it, I've been bonkers waiting to hear all your thoughts on this big ol' mess!

~

Let me know in the comments if you'd be interested in a separate tumblr post of my OP canon + Numbers Game canon timeline. It would give away the reader's specific age, so I don't want to share it here for those that don't want to know!

There's a poll at the bottom of the Chapter 32 Tumblr Post if you'd like to vote there (if you're willing to scroll all the way through this chapter again 😅).

~

Note on the Brochure:
All of the character details included in the brochure are from Oda, except for the quotes and the missing details for Giberson. I found them on the One Piece Fandom Wiki if you’d like to go check out more about the characters' history. I live on that site, and have to give those fans the credit for compiling all those details! I already spend hours searching for specific parts in the anime for things like lines for speech patterns and such, I’d be lost without the wiki!
~

Note on the Card Trick:
I must confess, I am not as skilled with numbers as our Numbers Girl. This is the same trick I had Buggy use during the flashback of their first night together, and I have no idea if this 15 year old youtube video is full of shit or not, but if you'd like to try it out, here's the tutorial!
~

Note on this line from the beginning of the chapter:
"The White Stag. The hunted. The prey."
Kiki Rockwell's voice has been living in my brain, and I realized this line is similar to hers in Burn Your Village
"You do not dance everyday with the fear
Of living in headlights, the hunted, the deer"

That song is so good, and fits so well! 🦌😭

Anyhoo, I'm off to try to catch up on all of your wonderful comments! Y'all mean the world to me, thank you so much!!! 🙏🏼💜

Chapter 33: Keep Me Warm

Summary:

You're finding ways to cope, Shanks is finding ways to win, and the truth is finding its way out.

~

Recap:
Emperor Shanks won the first hunt, and the first private date. The Cross Guild learned how you feel about about your red haired suitor, and the swordsman declared his plan to leave.

Notes:

Hi friends! Just want to say that sharing this story with you means so much to me. I wish I had some Cross Guild backup in my life right now, but having y'all reading my obsession makes me so grateful! I'm trying to get back to interacting, I'm just having a hard time doing anything that's not writing this right now, but all of your words make me so happy, thank you!! 💜🙏🏼✨

~

Dark Content Warning:
It's not the reader, but within this chapter there are references to suicide through engaging in dangerous and destructive behavior. The violent activities are mentioned within canon, but the emotional motivations are added. The situation ends well, but I'll bracket those sections with ~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~ in case that topic is triggering. Please, take care of yourselves, and know that you are not alone! 💜

I have run out of tag space, so I'll add the random additional warnings for each chapter here: tw splinters (it's within the dark content sections in case you want to avoid it.)

~

!!! SPOILER WARNING !!!
Fic currently contains spoilers for the end of the Wano arc. As we get further into Egghead Arc where our lovely boys are showing up more, there will be more spoilers as time goes on. Sorry y'all, I'm trying to keep most spoilers small details, but Cross Guild is endgame, lol.

~

Alternate POV Symbols:
🌲 ~ Reader | 🐊 ~ Crocodile | 🗡 ~ Mihawk | 🤡 ~ Buggy | 🔴 ~ Shanks | ⏰ ~ Flashbacks for listed POV | ⚫ ~ Scenes depicting Dark Content as listed in Author's Notes

Extras:
Numbers Game Tumblr Masterlist
Ongoing Series Playlist ~ YouTube Music Link ~ YouTube Link
Chapter Tunes ~ Tainted Love ~ Holy Wars | Hatef--k ~ The Bravery

~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~

 

“That’s one creepy ass boat.”

“Excuse me?”

Mihawk couldn’t be annoyed with his clown when that observation had their much taller lover nearly buckling beside him. Those large fingers dug into his shoulder while Crocodile laughed at his expense, his voice even rougher than usual at the early hour.

“Hitsugibune is a fine ship, and has carried me across the Grand Line for years,” Mihawk countered. 

Crocodile took the luggage from his hands to toss onto the one-man vessel. 

“It does have a certain flare,” Crocodile hummed, leaving a quick kiss to his temple. 

“It’s just your aesthetic, though, right,” Buggy shook as he prowled closer. “It’s not a real coffin?”

“Not yet,” Mihawk teased. It earned him an adorable frown that made him laugh, and the movement reminded him of all the delightful things they’d done to him last night. 

“Sure you’re gonna be alright all cooped up in your coffin so soon,” Buggy taunted with a few prods and pokes along the swordsman’s healing chest. 

Moans left those cruel lips, and he tried to back away, but ran into a wall made of muscle and heat, and wrapped in a purple, velvet smoking jacket.

“Promise you’ll be a good boy for me?”

Mihawk almost buckled then, loving the satisfied noise Crocodile made when he reacted to him. The three lovers kissed goodbye, until he was alone again. 

The World’s Greatest Swordsman drifted alone on his one-man boat, and wondered how long it would take for Crocodile to realize that he hadn’t answered his question.

 

~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~ 

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

 

“King of Diamonds,” Shanks beamed at her, mesmerized by her every move, and getting caught on the gentle sway of her locket while she laid out the trick for him again and again. 

It was Buggy’s trick. Buggy’s locket.

The Emperor of the Sea didn’t realize how much he‘d needed this. Seeing Y/N’s enduring love for their lovely clown gave him a burst of hope that clouded his mind, but he kept up the front.

Maybe playing the villain won’t be so bad.

“I’m afraid you missed this one, Shanks,” she breathed, eyes fluttering a bit as they darted back to her hands. Her movements had to be practiced in front of a crowd like this, but he found himself drawn into her orbit, yet again. 

“That’s alright,” he teased, snatching the card from her. He huffed a laugh as he dropped the Ace of Hearts before taking her hand in his. Y/N’s lips parted in a soft exhale, and he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from them.

“I always win when it counts.”

The sound of bells filled the air.

“Do I count,” she teased, pressing those lips into a subtle, biteable pout for him. 

Hope and greed brought his lips to her skin, just a press against her wrist while he fought the urge to throw her over his shoulder and run. 

“I think she likes you, Chief.”

“What can I say,” Shanks smirked as he plopped down beside his first mate. Y/N’s eyes were following him so clearly on the huge screen that he didn’t need to glance back to check. “I think I might just win this little game.”

 

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🗡️🔴⏰~~~

 

“I hear you’re the best there is!”

“That’s correct,” Dracule Mihawk deadpanned. He was only twenty-two years old, but the brightness shining off of the boy that had invaded his corner table made him feel aged and weary. 

Shanks didn’t think his eyes could get any wider. This dangerous, infamous man was so… pretty!

“Run along now.”

“No way,” Shanks laughed, leaning over the table. He froze for a moment under the glare of the strangest eyes he’d ever seen. “Come on, Hawk Eyes, I’m challenging you to a duel!”

The Marine Hunter didn’t spare him another glance, just returned to his book as though Shanks didn’t exist. 

“Come ooon, I bet you’re bored on this little island. I’m only here so my sniper can visit his wife, and they’re not open for company right now. Plus, my first mate already left me for the barmaid so I’m...”

Rambling. Why am I rambling?

Shanks didn't know why he couldn’t let it go, but he had to try. The young captain saw the chance to test himself sitting before him with a beautifully bored look on his face. 

“I wanna fight you.”

“I’m afraid I’m not in the mood for slaughtering children today.”

“I’m eighteen, and my sword is ready, so let’s—“

“Let me see your sword,” Mihawk ordered. He had to stifle a smirk when the redhead obeyed him instantly. 

The saber was longer than was typical for that type, with an extended, green hilt that showed a subtle, but elegant artistry in its craftsmanship. Mihawk was tracing his fingers around the pommel before he remembered that he should have killed the idiot for handing his blade to an enemy. 

“Where did you get this,” he asked instead of stabbing the rookie, letting the young man take the exquisite weapon back. 

“Oh, uh…” Shanks’ cheeks almost matched his hair while he decided what to say. The image of this man laughing him off made sharing the full truth unappealing. “I’ve always had it. My mentor taught me how to use it. So, will you fight me?”

“You’ve piqued my interest. That’s often a fatal mistake, so if you choose to walk away now, I’ll let you go.”

“No one gets away from Red Haired Shanks that easily,” he winked, holding out his hand. 

Mihawk offered his own, and Shanks grinned as they clasped each other’s forearms for a moment. 

“I like your jacket.”

The swordsman narrowed his eyes at the compliment, but followed the young captain out of the tavern, and into the lightly wooded area outside of town. 

He could have sworn he’d seen that ugly, straw hat somewhere before.

 

~~~⏰🗡️🔴⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

You weren’t supposed to think about him. 

How could you hold up that perfect, doll face in front of all the leeches if they smelled any hint of weakness?

How could you keep yourself from crying when you remembered Buggy’s laugh that made you laugh, his touch that made you his, or his pain that broke your heart? 

Yet you kept surrounding yourself with every tiny piece you had left, a masochistic challenge to spice up this auction for your life. 

And here was the man that had hurt Buggy. The asshole that had left him wounded for decades. You had to convince him to apologize to the man he claimed to love, only for the traitor to abandon him when he needed him most. 

I hope they take care of him…

You didn’t have room for too much hope. Not when you could end up trapped with this viper, especially if Uncle caught a whiff of your disdain. 

He’s staring at my lips like he did that first day. Like I’m just something sweet for him to taste. 

“I always win when it counts.”

The sound of the ending bells felt like applause, and another smiling face filled your mind. Blood had dripped onto that stage like scattered petals, all for you. 

Pouting for the Emperor gave you a thrill of pride over how easy it was to make his eyes flash with heat. He pressed a kiss to the inside of your wrist, and you didn’t have to fake the shivers it caused. 

The red headed pirate sauntered off, but your eyes were drawn to him again and again. 

The prey had its own target now. 

I’d rather die than marry that traitor, but if he traps me…

I’ll fucking kill him.

I’ll kill him for you , Buggy.

 

 ~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🔴🗡️⏰~~~

 

“Holy shit,” Shanks panted as he narrowly avoided being cleaved in two by that tiny fucking dagger.

“Ha, already lost your confidence, boy?”

Mihawk hadn’t lied. He hadn’t planned on killing anyone on this boring, little island, but fresh blood on his blade had him losing himself. He’d had a few moments of hope for a real challenge, but the building disappointment was about to quicken his opponent’s death.

“Nope! Just– fuck!”

The red haired youth dodged too late, collapsing to the dirt. He clutched at his side, hardly doing a thing to staunch the blood that was slowly staining the forest floor. 

I can’t die yet. He didn’t even draw his sword… 

“You’re the strongest fighter I’ve met in awhile, yet you’re still such a pitiful creature,” Mihawk scowled, kicking the saber from the rookie’s weak grasp. “And here, I was almost having fun. What a waste of time…”

“W-wait, Hawk Eyes,” Shanks coughed, spreading more blood around. “You’re bored, aren’t you? You like fighting?”

“People can be so perceptive in their final moments,” he drawled. Mihawk brought Kogatana to the boy’s throat, the small blade poised to cease his blubbering.

“You said you almost had f-fun,” Shanks bargained, his eyes wider than ever while beautiful death loomed over him. “I'll make you a deal, alright?”

Golden eyes seemed to sharpen, just as the blade pressed into his neck a bit more.

“Don’t waste any more of my time,” came his vicious, yet waiting voice. 

“I won’t,” Shanks panicked, smiling under that cold glare. “It's too early for me to die, friend. There's so much for me to learn. I promise that if you give me a chance, I'll get stronger! Let me live, and I'll get strong enough to give you a real fun fight, I swear!”

One of the longest moments Shanks had ever experienced dragged on, while the unreadable swordsman above him hardly moved at all, until his head cocked to the side.

“Intriguing,” Mihawk frowned, still holding steel against that young throat. “I suppose I can hold off on killing you for now.”

“You can– ow!”

Mihawk removed the blade that Shanks had leaned into in excitement, and rolled his eyes with instant regret. 

“Don’t challenge me again until you’re ready. I’ll kill you slowly for making me wait.”

“No problem,” Shanks waved to the man’s back. Dracule Mihawk had already left him bleeding in the dirt. “I’ll get you back, Hawk Eyes.”

 

~~~⏰🔴🗡️⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🐊🤡🐊🤡~~~

 

It felt so quiet with just the two of them, even with all the hustle and bustle of the guild getting to work.

He’s like a big, scary teddy bear.

“You alright little clown,” Crocodile soothed, rubbing softly between Buggy’s shoulder blades while he had a coughing fit. 

The clown gave a thumbs up, grateful that he hadn’t spoken the thought out loud. 

Mihawk had been gone for hours, and the afternoon was aging fast, but neither of the men on the couch had cared about dressing for the day. That soft smoking jacket made Crocodile’s warm body almost too soothing to lean against, especially while the clown listened to his star do their card trick again and again.

When the coughing stopped, Crocodile’s large hand pulled gently, guiding the clown back into that comfortable position. 

Buggy didn’t fight it. He knew he might be an idiot for getting used to this strange reality where Sir Crocodile cuddled with him, but he needed it right now.

Maybe he needs it too.

 

~~~🐊🤡🐊🤡~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

I’ll skin him. Boil him alive. 

“You look amazing,” Kat muttered, avoiding your death-filled gaze in the mirror. 

“Tell me,” you growled at the nearest staff, “why the fuck do I need to wear a swimsuit on a first date?”

They’d given you a variety of options, all of which were as red as that stupid hair. You’d chosen the one that came with a tiny bit of cloth to wrap around your hips, so you could at least pretend you were wearing some fucking clothes. 

“I’m so sorry you weren’t given more notice, Miss Sylvad,” she hurried, her empty words already draining your resolve. 

It’s not their fault. It’s his. 

“As you know, the hun– suitors, excuse me,” she coughed nervously, and you saw Kat’s eyes widen over her shoulder while you shoved down the manic laughter in your gut. “The suitors get to choose the themes of the first dates, and the Emperor stated that he enjoys long walks on the beach, so–”

“I can walk fine without–”

“There’s my lovely nieces,” Cedrick beamed, nearly hitting one of the staff with the door when he barged in. “Everyone out, even you, sweetheart.”

Kat stepped back from his touch on her shoulder, but you told her it was fine before her fruitless argument could leave her lips. 

He was going to get what he wanted, so she might as well save the energy, though she scowled at him all the way out the door.

“Nice pick,” he taunted, gesturing at your swimsuit. “I preferred the little, frilly one, but I’m sure the pirate can tear into this one just fine, even one handed.”

Nothing. Give him nothing.

“Did you have something to tell me, Uncle? I have a date to prepare for.”

“Atta girl,” your uncle laughed, lounging in the nearest chair. “Just wanted to check in on who your favorites are.”

“It’s too early to tell,” you reported, fighting to keep your voice even. 

“Well, be sure to keep me posted,” he ordered with a smirk. “Unfortunately there’s already one name that needs to be crossed off the list. I want him to have his little date though, and we should send someone else home before him. The last thing the family needs are accusations of racism if we boot the only Fishman first. Inclusivity bullshit is always a fucking headache.”

“Why…” 

Fukaboshi was overwhelming. He was two stories tall, and you couldn’t imagine leaving your whole world behind, or how any of that would even work.

Yet, he’d seemed truly kind. The prince had almost put himself, and his people, in danger with his earnest questions about your captivity. 

He’d come to this land of leeches looking for allies, but only cruelty lived here. Only gluttonous, selfish, hateful—

“Who would you like to send home first,” Uncle Cedrick asked, snapping you out of your thoughts. “I’ll be rigging tomorrow's game so the Fishman should win the next date, then we can send him off with no worries. So who’s your least favorite?”

“I really don’t know, Uncle. I haven’t spent enough time with them to be sure.”

A little movement around his eyes, a little smirk. You weren’t going to fall for it. 

“Let’s remedy that, dear niece,” he declared as he moved toward you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. He turned you toward the mirror, and his reflection was frightening. 

He was gleeful.

“I have put quite a bit of berry on your red haired date becoming the next King of the Pirates. Make sure you treat him like royalty tonight.” He left you there to wince while he called over his shoulder. “I know how much you enjoyed whoring for those pirates, Y/N. Now you could be their little whore queen!”

 

~~~

 

You were carted around like royalty in your uncle’s obnoxious carriage, already feeling the cool, gentle breeze through the wood paneling as you neared one of the only sandy beaches on the small island. The rest of the coastlines were rimmed with craggy cliffs at the edge of forests, and perching on those rocks was your preferred way to enjoy the ocean. 

Not shivering in a swimsuit at dusk, with sand already creeping up your legs.

“Wow, you look…”

All the staff scurried to the little trailers nearby, leaving you face to face with him while he scanned over your mostly bare skin. 

Shanks looked right at home on the beach. 

He’d managed to find a dark green version of his hardly-buttoned shirts that looked unfairly good against his skin, but his loose fitting pants were still covered in a headache inducing pattern. They were gathered below the knees, presumably to make his long walks on the beach in those lame sandals that much easier. 

And his cape. How could you forget the cape? 

He was still gawking at you while you tried not to fume at how fucking stunning he looked in his stupid clothes. 

“Why are you dressed like this?”

“You don’t like it, Emperor,” you pouted, playing pretend with a wobble of hurt in your voice. “I heard you wanted a beach date.”

“I like it very much,” he purred, bringing a gasp to your lips when he was suddenly inches from you. He trailed his fingers down your neck and chest, following the chain of your locket until he smiled. “I just don’t want my little bunny getting cold tonight.”

Shivering under the weight of his warm cape, you thanked the charming villain while he led you to a little table by the fire. Staff rushed up to serve you, but Shanks snagged the open bottle, and waved them off while you tried not to let your mouth water at the platter of hors d’oeuvres between you. 

He poured the sake, but said nothing while you toasted. Just stared at you, his little half-smile growing deeper when you accepted a bite of food from his hand.

At least you didn’t have to worry about your food with Shanks tasting everything along with you. No one would dare spike the Emperor’s drink.

I might. If I have to.

You faded in and out of daydreaming his murder, and nearly forgetting. 

Shanks was the perfect predator, luring in his prey with such playful joy and power. He was pure light, drawing in the moths until they burned to a crisp in his cruel, selfish flames. 

You knew this, yet there were moments when he made you truly laugh, and you clutched at your locket, silently vowing again and again that you would destroy this man. 

If he didn’t kill you while you made him pay, then his crew surely would. It was a last resort. 

You didn’t want to die, and it felt nice knowing that.

Yet if the only options you had left were being owned by this monster, or dying while you took him down, then you’d get him drunk and happy on your honeymoon, and gut him like a pig. 

Until then though…

“You feeling alright, gorgeous,” your prey checked in, guiding you to a trailer to wash up. The staff disappeared again, scattering like cockroaches, but the illusion of privacy never fooled you. 

“I feel good.” Your hum made his eyes glint for you, and he pulled you down the shore, away from the staff, and their snail-covered equipment. 

“Wanna dip your toes in,” Shanks ginned, wrapping his arm around your waist. It felt like he wouldn’t give you a choice either way. His strong fingers curled around your hip, teasing along the edge of your swimsuit, and your body ached when you remembered what they could do to you. 

You wanted to forget for a while. You wanted to pretend. 

Might as well enjoy myself before I kill him. 

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

 

He’d almost forgotten where they were. 

It doesn’t matter. I’ve got her, Buggy. Your shining star.

When she laughed, the Emperor of the Sea forgot everything. 

It was a perfect sound, a beautiful movement of her body, her head thrown back just a bit, as though he’d shocked the laughter out of her. 

She didn’t look like a wounded star tonight. There was fire beneath all of her flirting, and he had to feel it.

Greed crept back into his heart the longer he spent by her side, and he couldn’t help but reach for her, pulling her toward the gentle sea. 

He wanted her. He wanted all of them. 

Shanks wanted everything, and that sweet, little pout of hers seemed to promise it. 

“It’s too cold,” Y/N shivered, avoiding the soft waves that lapped along the shore.

“I’ll keep you warm.”

She snorted, clamping a hand over her lips when he cocked a brow at her. His lovely date dipped her toes in, then took off up the beach, her laughter filling every bit of his mind until he joined in, chasing after her.

“How are you going to— oh,” she panted, gasping when she turned to find him so close. 

“Bunny,” he laughed as she tripped on his cloak trying to run backwards. He caught her just in time to fall with her, bracing with his elbow to keep his full weight from pressing her beneath him.

Shanks forgot. 

That shining star was still gasping as she laid on his cloak, a perfect blanket spread out to watch the night sky she must have fallen from. The soft tint of the night made her skin seem unreal, intoxicating. 

He had to touch her.

She touched him first.

Y/N’s hands wrapped around his shoulders, fingers curling into his hair when she pulled him in for a kiss. He couldn’t hold in a low growl that grew when she drank it hungrily from his lips. 

Nothing else existed when she pulled him closer, tugging at his shirt to tease her nails along his back. She moaned so sweetly around his tongue when he grinded himself against her, barely any cloth to keep them apart. 

He almost forgot.

“Mmm… Hey, bunny,” Shanks purred, his eyes heavy lidded to match the lovely ones beneath him. “Are you sure—“

“Aren’t you going to keep me warm?”

Y/N was pouting, teasing, begging, her fingers still trailing over his skin.

Everything about her was giving heat. 

Everything was perfect. 

Everything except for a flash in her eyes that plunged Shanks’ heart into the icy depths of the ocean at his back. 

“Is something wrong,” beautiful death asked softly, her mask so exquisitely crafted. 

“No, not at all,” Shanks cleared his throat, pushing himself away. “I just… It would be a shame to have my first time with such a beauty in front of an audience.” 

The sound of bells saved him.

She tilted her head back, sighing when she saw the vehicles approaching. 

“Bunny, I—“

“Thank you for the lovely date, Emperor. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He helped her up, brushing the sand from her skin while he tried to figure out what to say. 

He didn’t think fast enough, and soon the staff had swarmed her, wrapping her in a fluffy robe before whisking her away.

The red haired pirate declined a ride back to the estate, waving the people, and their watching snails away. 

It was a long walk. 

There would never be enough distance for Shanks to cross to get away from the sickness that had seeped into his bones, into his every organ. 

Y/N’s empty eyes had branded guilt onto his heart before, and he couldn’t stand his arrogance. He thought he’d already made it all better, that his greedy heart was going to take everything it wanted. 

I wanted to own her, just like the leeches.

Tonight, Y/N’s eyes hadn’t been empty, but she was so good at hiding.

Or I just saw what I wanted to see. Until she…

What Shanks had seen in that flash, in that glimpse beneath her mask, was evil. It was frightening, sick, manic.

It was hate. 

I did that. I filled that lovely girl’s heart with hatred. 

The walk wasn’t long enough to shake off his self loathing, but Shanks knew what he needed if he was going to make things right. 

He needed one more chance. 

One more private date. 

 

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

“Look, I’ll taste it,” your mother sighed before taking a drink from the steaming mug she kept brandishing at you. “Now please, drink it, sweetie. You look…”

“I look like death,” you drawled, wishing the coffee would cool down so you could chug it. 

“Not at all, Miss Sylvad, you just need some brightening up! We’ll take good care of you,” chirped your mom’s favorite makeup artist. You couldn’t remember his name this early in the morning, but you were fighting not to throw the hot coffee at him so he’d stop being so fucking cheerful. 

You hadn’t been able to fall asleep last night. 

The scent of him had lingered around you, even after you’d tried to scrub him off of you in the shower. 

The whole night had replayed in your mind, making you dizzy with guilt over every moment when you relaxed, when you forgot.

Then it would cycle through again, rage building until you chewed your tongue to keep from snarling to the empty air around you. 

But your body…

Frustration nearly clawed itself out of you, and you’d had to hold your breath to fight the screams and tears it would have left in its wake. You’d been so fucking close to having something to turn your brain off for a minute, even if it was him.

All of your attempts to take care of that need on your own left you defeated, your guilty hunger twisting every image you tried to cling to.

You couldn’t imagine his fingers without picturing the gloved ones you missed so much. 

Couldn’t picture Shanks fucking you without remembering him making love to Buggy. You were trapped in silence on the edge of that bed again, but there was no one to rescue you this time. 

Last night, you’d fallen apart. It had to be it. You couldn’t afford these emotions. 

You’d bitten your pillow to stifle the wracking sobs while your mind tore you down, forcing you to mourn more than just Buggy. 

It felt like you were choking on their names, all the men you’d left behind. 

If loneliness alone could kill, you would have died there in that luxurious bed, aching to be smothered in the heat of bodies you’d never feel again.

Shanks was torturing you. His very presence was a reminder of the daydream you had fooled yourself into thinking you could keep. 

“Are you alright, Miss Sylvad?”

“What? Oh, I’m… I’m fine.”

The sound of tears in your voice was enough to drag you back. 

You let yourself fall away. 

Empty.

Empty’s good.

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

 

Benn literally kicked his ass out of bed this morning, ripping the expensive bedding off of his captain while he scolded him out of the dream world. 

“Quit complaining,” his first mate commanded him, rolling his eyes at the pathetic groans. “You’ve got a beautiful girl to win, Chief. You can sleep when she’s yours.”

Shanks’ morning mind was still soaked in last night's attempt to drown it in sake, so he couldn’t tell if he’d thanked or cussed out the older man for his help. Regardless, the red haired pirate was dressed for breakfast, luckily remembering his appointment.

After the first dates, the suitors got to have breakfast with the Sylvads. 

Maybe I’ll get a moment alone with her.

“There’s our favorite Emperor,” Cedrick called through the door, gesturing for Shanks to join them. “Make yourself at home!”

“Home” was strangely sterile, more of a conference room than a dining area. Cedrick sat at the head of the table, offering the empty seat beside him, opposite Y/N, and her practiced smile. 

I can do this. I can convince her I’m on her side.

I have to.

“I thought this was gonna be a family breakfast. You’ve got a little sister out there, don’t you, gorgeous?”

“I—“

“Don’t worry, Shanks,” Cedrick waved off the question. “There will be plenty of time for family get-togethers. Since you joined our game at the last minute, I figured we should have a little business talk before you get back to all the pleasure.”

Shanks almost shoved his fork through the man’s throat. 

The taunting glance he’d given his niece at the last word tested Shanks’ self control, and he couldn’t believe how calm she seemed. 

“Of course. I understand it’s not just love we’re fighting for.”

“Not love. Family,” Cedrick vowed. He emphasized his words with a firm grip on Shanks’ shoulder, and the pirate had to hold his breath to keep from shaking him off.

How does she do this all day?

“Whoever marries my dear niece will be family, and Sylvads take care of their own. I know there’s a lot we could do for each other.”

“It’s an honor to be considered,” Shanks toasted them both, aching to see anything real behind her polite mask. 

“You know, Shanks, it’s a real shame you went to the wrong brother all those years ago,” Cedrick mused, shifting his tone just enough to suck all the air from the room. “You might have been King of the Pirates by now if you’d asked me instead.”

“What do you mean?”

Shanks mumbled those loathsome words while the ground disappeared beneath him. The question in her eyes sparked his panic, but it was too late. 

“Please, Arbo loved to brag about drinking with Roger’s apprentice. I could never understand how he let a little girl spook him out of the deal of a lifetime.”

“What are you talking about?”

Her eyes were wide when she asked, but Y/N wasn’t looking at either of them. She was slipping further and further away with every word her uncle spewed, and Shanks had no idea how to stop it. 

“You know the family stories, niece, and you’re smart enough to figure out which ones are true,” he chided. 

Cedrick would have lost his hand when he tapped the tip of her nose, but Shanks was frozen. 

“Your daddy turned down the chance to help the Pirate King’s apprentice build the next ship to conquer the Grand Line. Arbo could have made history, but he decided not to because his ‘widdle numbers girl’ cried about some gods damned tree.”

…

“Wha-what?”

She was so good at hiding, so it felt like his soul cracked when her voice did. Horror and shame filled the Emperor of the Sea when a daughter’s grief shone in those beautiful eyes. 

“It had to be fifteen, nearly twenty years ago now, wasn’t it?”

He sounded fucking jolly while he ripped both of their hearts out. 

“Yeah, I think so,” Shanks coughed, caving when the man gripped his shoulder a bit harder. 

“Well, I don’t have the same qualms as my dear brother, so I might be willing to butcher an Adam Tree. Only for family, of course.”

Unshed tears were balanced in her eyes, and she seemed to be turning herself into a statue before she’d let them fall. 

There had been time to tell her. Shanks’ mind flew through a list of excuses for why he hadn’t, why it wasn’t a good time, how she’d been going through too much to tell her a story about her dead father. Yet this whirlwind of a woman had cleared away his old disguises, so he could no longer believe his own lies. 

I didn’t even think about telling her. All I cared about was getting what I wanted.

I’m no hero.

“I was wondering if that’s why you joined the game,” Cedrick smirked. He squeezed Shanks’ shoulder one last time before releasing him, but the relief was lost when the next words spilled from that evil mouth. 

Shanks watched every bit of movement on her face now. He watched his selfishness curdle around her, poisoning any slim chance he still had to gain her trust. 

“All the players are going for the One Piece, so Red Haired Shanks is back to get his miracle ship,” Cedrick taunted, his eyes glued on his niece. “And now he can finally teach the little brat that cost him his boat a lesson. I wonder if my sentimental brother would have chopped down that tree if he knew his favorite daughter would have to spread her—“

“What about you?”

“Excuse me,” Cedrick turned toward the growl, his brows raised a bit. 

He’s not nearly fucking scared enough.

Shanks paused too long, but the second the asshole started to tilt back toward her, the pirate started talking. He had no idea what to say, but he knew he had to keep that piece of shit from looking at her again. 

“Families help each other out,” Shanks flirted, feeling like he was swallowing venom with every moment he smiled at this monster. “So, what about you? How could I help out my new family, if I were so lucky?”

“I have a few ideas,” Cedrick purred as he leaned back in his chair. His eyes were relaxed, and slow while they scanned over him, as though he had all the time in the world to make an Emperor of the Sea wait on his every word. “I think that’s enough business for today, though. Let’s get back to pleasure.”

Cedrick Sylvad forced them to toast at that, and Shanks couldn’t understand how his niece had kept all of those tears from falling. Y/N’s cheeks were dry, and she smiled at him when their glasses touched. It was a perfect smile, welcoming, alluring, and sweet. 

It was a death trap. 

 

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🗡️🔴⏰~~~

~~~

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

 

Every time Shanks walked into a tavern, he knew he might meet his death. Would it be with his weight in alcohol, or with the slim hope for a golden eyed grim reaper tucked into a corner booth?

Shanks had gotten stronger before, but since a few stupid words had taken all the joy from his life last year, he couldn’t focus on anything else.

Beautiful death sounded pretty good, but all he kept finding was booze. 

Until tonight.

“Hey, Hawk Eyes.”

“Hmm? Here to interrupt my lunch,” Mihawk noted, boredom radiating from him. “How delightful.”

The new Warlord of the Sea could feel the difference in power in his former opponent. He could see the muscles born of years of holding a sword in the redhead’s forearms while he carried two heaping mugs, invading his table again after four years. 

Mihawk could see the dim light of this sticky tavern glinting off of that lovely sword.

“I prefer wine,” he drawled, returning his gaze to his book while he tried to catch the man’s heartbeat over the noise. He’d have to get closer for that, but it was an unnecessary risk.

That sword deserved a true fight. 

“More for me then,” Shanks shrugged, gulping down one of the beers while his enemy sighed.

“If you’re not serious about challenging me, then kindly leave me to my reading.”

Shanks reached for the hand that held the book, but it withdrew so fast, danger in those golden eyes now as they narrowed on him. 

“There’s the monster I remember," Shanks raised his mug, drinking in the sight before him. 

Dracule Mihawk pulled his feet down from the table, and set his book aside, never taking his eyes off the pirate. Adjusting his jacket looked like an instinctual habit, the maroon fabric and floral patterns seeming out of place on a killer’s skin. 

“Do you shave your sideburns all pointy like that, or–”

“Are you suicidal, rookie?”

“What do you care,” Shanks scoffed. He couldn’t stop himself. He didn’t want to. “You’ve been looking forward to killing me, haven’t you? And I don’t see any blood on that big sword of yours, so you must be bored here.”

Mihawk wanted to stay bored, but this pretty pirate, and his ugly hat were getting on his nerves. 

“I’m sure one of the local drunkards could grant your death wish in a back alley brawl. I don’t need to dirty my blade on weak blood like yours.”

Oh, but he wanted to. 

And the red haired captain could see it. Just the slightest curve of those cruel lips, a faint intake of breath when he stretched his arms above his head, that dangerous gaze caught on every mark of training on his body. 

Shanks was fucking high on it, and he wasn’t going to let it end so soon.

“I’m here to challenge you, Hawk Eye Mihawk,” he smirked, finally free of thoughts as thrills shot through him. “I’m here to end you.” 

“You’re here to try.”

 

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

~~~

~~~⏰🗡️🔴⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

It’s okay. You’re okay.

Soothing words were bad.

Not real. It’s all pretend. 

Uncle Cedrick was talking again, lording over the lunch that had been laid out along the beach today. 

The beach where you’d begged him to touch you last night. 

Not real. 

Nothing matters. 

Fake is fine.

Not real. Can’t feel.  

“Come now, niece, don’t keep the hunters waiting!”

He handed you bit of cloth, and you had no idea what the fuck to do with it. Reality reformed around you, and you found your suitors lined up on the sand, watching your every movement. 

You held up the flag and dropped it down, grateful that you’d guessed right when most of the men started running toward the waves. 

“Good afternoon, Y/N,” came a deep, deep voice that almost pulled you free. 

“Hi, uh… Hello, Katakuri,” you shook beneath his gaze.

Oh yeah. Maybe this gentle giant will crush me to death tonight. That might make things easier.

“I was hoping that since it’s our night tonight, I might be able to sit with you today?”

“There’s no rule against it,” your uncle shrugged, snagging his drink to raise it toward the crimson haired man above. “Don’t ignore your other suitors though, niece. They’re putting in a lot of work to win you today.”

The portable screen that had been set up between some of the larger vehicles caught your eye. It showed Giberson lounging with a cocktail, sticking his pasty toes in the sand while he waved at the younger men running past.

Thankfully, the cam snails shifted their focus to your other suitors, their powerful bodies gleaming while most of them tore their shirts off before diving into the waves.

It was hard to enjoy the view with that glaring, red hair always hogging the screen. 

I bet he’s a fan favorite, that fucking—“

“Do you like sweets, Y/N?”

“I’m sorry,” you choked, head twisting to meet those stunning eyes. 

“I’ve noticed that you don’t seem to like the food they’ve been serving here, and since I was hoping to make something with you during our date tonight, I want to be sure you’ll enjoy it.”

Katakuri was shielding his eyes from the sun to look down at you, and you felt a stupid bit of guilt for ignoring this seemingly sweet man that came here to own you. 

“I love sweets, I’ve just been so nervous,” came another lie that was true. “It’s hard to eat when I’m nervous, but if you promise to share with me, then I can’t wait to—”

“Well, Emperor, that’s not quite what we were looking for,” Uncle Cedrick teased as he followed Shanks back to your table. 

“I found what I was looking for,” he rasped, going to a knee beside you. Your image on the screen held you prisoner, just as he planned to do.

Shanks’ title had never suited him so well. The Emperor of the Sea was drenched, his red hair gone dark, clinging to his face and neck. Drops of the ocean fell from the ends to pour down his body in hypnotizing lines. His chest was almost always bare, but the way his skin glowed under all that salt and sun turned his body into a work of art, something to gaze upon and enjoy, and you fucking hated him for it. 

Monsters should look as ugly as their souls. 

“I realized I didn’t bring you a gift last night, and I had to make it right.”

You heard the sand shifting as Katakuri moved closer, but Shanks held your gaze. 

Those soft, brown eyes held nothing but lies. 

“A beautiful shell for a beautiful girl,” he breathed, wincing slightly when your uncle joked for the crowd, lamenting how “lovey dovey” things might get if all the hunters tried to spoil you. 

You had to accept his gift.

It was a large conch shell, and it was beautiful, with spirals and spikes laid out in gentle colors. 

“Listen to it, Y/N. Can you hear the ocean?”

“I… Yeah, I can,” you nodded, holding the shell up to your ear. Distant music filled your mind, and you shoved the memories down. Luckily, a trail of dripping suitors was headed toward you, and you were grateful for any excuse to stop looking at him. 

You were so fucking close to smashing that spiky shell into his face.

“The deep, blue sea loves its creatures so much that it sends its ears along with them.”

“Uh, thank you? I–“

“And the winner of today’s hunt is Prince Fukaboshi!”

Shanks had no choice but to move when Uncle Cedrick grabbed your elbow to guide you to another small stage, riding it into the air beside you. 

The merman prince looked like the God of the Sea. 

His spotted tail made giant patterns in the sand as he floated toward you, shaking out his light blue hair before you came close to his glinting smile. His teeth.

Shark. He’s like a shark .

“For you, Miss Sylvad. I hope that whatever this treasure is brings you as much pleasure as your company brings me.”

So very carefully, Fukaboshi’s massive fingers placed an ornate wooden chest on the platform in front of you, and a look from your uncle sent you to your knees to open it up.

Salt water and seaweed poured out, sending chills over your skin before you reached inside. The treasure was hard to identify in the soggy container, but soon you held it up for everyone to see. 

Everyone could see you while you stared at the intricate ship in a bottle, your dad’s signature redwood still painted on one of the sails. 

“Thank you for finding this for me, Prince Fukaboshi,” you praised, teetering on the edge of tears again. “I… I haven’t seen it in a long time.”

You hadn’t seen one of his little ships since you’d smashed a few of them to pieces ten years ago. The rest had been hidden away before the spoiled heiress could destroy them all during another tantrum. 

More of dad’s perfect creations that he’d lovingly stuffed into a pretty cage.

The world swerved, and by some miracle, your shaky hands placed the bottle back into the chest, closing the lid with a soft thud.

“Are you feeling well, niece,” Unce Cedrick crooned as he laid his hand on your back, painting the picture of a loving family.

“Yes, uncle, thank you,” came your soft, gracious voice. Your Sylvad smile was the only armor you had against the onslaught of eyes.

“I feel perfect.” 

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🗡️🔴⏰~~~

~~~

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

 

It was the perfect fight. The perfect dance.

“Where was this fire back then, Red Hair? This rage?”

“You trying to distract me, Hawk Eyes?”

Shanks pressed all of his weight against that powerful blade, their swords scraping against each other like deadly instruments. Mihawk had that huge weapon tilted down for an attack he couldn’t finish, and the younger pirate laughed as he caged him in against a tree. 

“There’s no need,” Mihawk growled, his body singing with the first true challenge he’d faced in years. “You’re still an overconfident, little boy.”

“Well, this— gods damn it, really,” Shanks groaned, unable to rub the pain off of his face with all of his strength holding his sword against the other. “Aren’t you a fucking swordsman? Head butts don’t seem that honorable.”

“A true fighter knows when to be flexible,” Mihawk taunted, finally slipping from Shanks’ hold. 

Perfect. 

Any of his previous opponents would have been sliced in half by his quick recovery, Yoru gliding through the air like a bird of prey.

Yet this man parried the attack with hardly a second to shift after Mihawk’s escape. 

And he was smiling. 

“I told you we’d be having fun.”

“That’s what you’ve been training for all this time, Red Hair? You’re willing to die for a bit of fun?”

“Aren’t you?”

Their taunts grew breathier as the clash of blades went on, but soon they both carried feral grins, laughing at every near miss. They didn’t notice all the trees they knocked down, or the creatures of the forest that fled into the golden glow of the coming sunset.

This perfect dance had lasted for hours, but it could have been seconds or days to them. 

The dancers lost themselves in the sounds of bodies and blades, in the strength and will of their beautiful enemy, and in the sweat, blood, and dirt that only made them seem more like beasts, hungry for more. 

Until the end. 

“Do it.”

Mihawk couldn’t believe it. 

He’d slipped. Hours and hours of sweat and blood dripping through his fingers made him slip just enough for his enemy to slip through.

I should have wrapped the handle better. 

The swordsman huffed a laugh at his own arrogance. He hadn’t had to worry about sweating through that fabric in years. 

“Laughing in the face of death, huh,” Shanks asked, holding Gryphon to the Warlord’s throat. He’d pinned the man down, his weight pressing his enemy into the rough ground. 

“I’m waiting for death, Red Hair,” he sneered, stretching his neck to give the man a clearer target. “Get on with it.”

“Now why would I wanna do that,” Shanks rasped. The chaos in those pretty eyes was hypnotizing. 

Shame and fury almost broke the man loose, but all he could do was seethe while blood started to trickle down his throat from his movements. 

“If you don’t finish this I’ll—“

“Make a deal with me,” Shanks purred, leaning close to breathe his bargain over those snarling lips. “I want you to live, and get stronger, so we can have even more fun next time.”

“If you don’t end this now, I will kill you sl—“

“Slowly, right? Sounds like fun to me.”

He freed the monster, collapsing onto the ground beside him to laugh, and wince with the pain of their dance.

This feels good .

“Tomorrow. You die tomorrow, Red Hair.”

The Warlord felt pathetic spitting the threat from his back, but he tilted his head to find that shiny, bloody smile again. 

“Tomorrow it is,” Shanks agreed, before diving into even more dangerous distractions. “What about tonight, Hawk Eyes? You got any plans?”

“You are truly magnificent, you suicidal fool,” Mihawk laughed, a lovely sound from those cruel lips. The redhead wouldn’t stop beaming at him, and something in him snapped. 

Mihawk couldn’t stop laughing, even through the soreness, even when his ridiculous enemy joined in. 

“What do you say, swordsman, wanna go grab a beer?”

“I prefer wine.”

“Whatever you want, loser—mmnf.”

“I will kill you tomorrow,” Mihawk sneered, rolling to hold Kogatana to that pretty throat.

“Let’s go celebrate your victory then,” Shanks winked, his jaw shifting in playful challenge. “Do you prefer red or— It’s red, isn’t it?”

“So perceptive in your final moments,” Mihawk drawled after too long a pause, but he helped his enemy off the ground. 

He walked beside the man that could have killed him. That should have killed him. 

This isn’t safe. 

Mihawk tried to listen to his instincts, every muscle in his body screaming for him to take down the smiling threat at his side. 

Yet all he could do was follow that red, unable to look at anything else. 

 

~~~

 

“What are you doing,” Mihawk growled, shrugging off Shanks’ touch when they entered the tavern.

“Don’t you wanna clean your pretty clothes first,” he teased, before nodding his head toward the hallway he’d tried to pull his enemy down. “My room’s this way, and it’s got a nice bathroom we can use. We look pretty fucked up, Hawk Eyes.”

Shanks leaned in again, his lip scraping through his teeth just a bit. Just enough.

Fuck being safe. 

“Getting cleaned up is going to take awhile,” Mihawk gave in, returning that heated stare. “How many bottles can you carry?”

 

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

~~~

~~~⏰🗡️🔴⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🐊🤡🐊🤡~~~

 

Shanks had finally figured it out, but the weight of nausea wouldn’t leave. Buggy knew she’d wanted him, he knew that breathing, but listening to Shanks touch her when he didn’t know how she felt was… 

“You need to get some sleep, little clown. Do you… Did you wanna sleep somewhere else?”

Crocodile tried to sound light, as though he’d be fine with an empty bed knowing that his clown would be whimpering in his sleep like he had every night since she left. There was a growing awkwardness in the air since that private date started, and he didn’t know how to quash it, or if he had any right to.

“No, I don't,” Buggy admitted. That scarred face seemed so careful, as though the man were holding still so he wouldn’t spook him. With a sigh, Buggy knew it was probably true. He let himself be swallowed by that comfortable, deadly warmth again. 

Holding him close, Crocodile fell through his own mind.

At some point, he had lost sight of his goals. The greed of how to reach them made him lose the vision, and ultimately lose it all. How many other things should he have protected instead of destroyed? How could he ever balance the scales with those he wanted to keep?

“Hey, boss,” Buggy cleared his throat, lips twitching nervously when he turned to look at that frightening face, unreadable as stone. The tension in his body was pretty readable though, and it didn’t seem like either of them would be falling asleep anytime soon.

“I know it’s late, but do you, uh… wanna call him?”

 

~~~🤡🐊🤡🐊~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🗡️🔴⏰~~~

~~~

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

 

They set their swords down. 

Mihawk had almost walked away, but Shanks tossed his sword out of reach first before backing into the bathroom with a crooked grin, and an open bottle of wine in each hand. 

“You comin’?”

The Warlord followed, not knowing if he could see the other man as anything but an enemy, even for a night. 

The bottle of red helped. 

“Here, let me help you with that.”

“It’s fine, I’ve— fu-uck!”

An absurdly large splinter had pierced into Mihawk’s lower back sometime during the fight, and although the two men had been staring at each other while they showered, they hadn’t touched until Shanks saw him struggling with that invasive bit of wood. 

“This little thing hurt that bad, huh,” Shanks teased as he tossed the splinter, reaching for the first aid supplies the bartender had shoved at them when they walked in dripping with blood. 

He soaked a swab in alcohol, and pressed it to the small wound before the swordsman could dodge him, and the desperate noise he let out made Shanks’ jaw drop. 

Mihawk turned away, grabbing a towel to tie down his body's reaction before leaving the redhead in the bathroom with his mouth still hanging wide. 

“I’ve got some extra pants you can—“

“I’m not wearing your ugly pants. They look like an old lady’s couch.”

Shanks snorted, admiring the sulking Warlord that was cleaning his already clean blade. 

“No pants then. I can live with that.”

“Is this what you wanted all along, Red Hair? I would have have fucked you on the tavern table if you’d just asked nicely.”

Shanks had left his towel in the bathroom, and his body’s reaction to those words was on full display while he leaned against the doorframe. 

“I don’t think losers get to be on top, Hawk Eyes.”

Rage was back. 

“And I don’t think I can wait until tomorrow to kill you.”

“Come on, friend,” Shanks dared, taking another swig while the hissing monster held that tiny blade to his throat again. “Let’s have some more fun.”

Who moved first? Neither could tell, but however it started, nothing in the world could stop them now. 

That kiss between rivals sparked another dance that would last for hours. 

Another fight that left them snarling and breathless, throwing taunts back and forth while they tore each other apart. 

Another battle of strength and will to see which man would fall to the other. 

“You truly believe you can take me,” Mihawk laughed, shoving his opponent against the wall hard enough for the wood to groan, and the dust to shake loose from the shelves beside them. 

“I believe you want me to,” the redhead taunted. It felt so good to be lost. “You keep hunting for someone who can. I bet you’re just dying to get fucked into the ground, aren’t you? Want me to hurt you?”

He fisted into that soft, black hair, yanking the man’s head back. That pathetic moan was music to his ears, and his cock was dripping with the need to shove it into the swordsman already. 

“And what about you,” Mihawk growled. He grabbed onto Shanks’ pulsing cock, and laughed when his knees nearly buckled. “You’re so obsessed with fighting me, trying so hard to fuck me. Willing to die for some fun? I’ve never met such a desperate whore.”

And they were kissing again, with Mihawk laughing into Shanks’ mouth while his cruel fingers made his enemy whine.

“Gods, if you’re gonna be such a sore loser, I guess you can take the win,” caved the redhead, breathless and aching to let this man clear his mind for as long as he could. He stumbled over to his bag, and tossed his rival a bottle of lube.

“Knew this was what you wanted,” Mihawk purred, already fisting the cool liquid over his swollen cock before bringing the bottle to his opponent’s waiting body. “You even came prepared.”

“Never know who you might run into at a— ooh, f-fuck. Mm, you’re so good at that.”

Mihawk smirked while his fingers tore so many noises from this gorgeous man, adding and stretching while he taunted him.

“I’ve never fucked someone I planned to kill the next day,” he threatened. That tiny smirk on the redhead’s lips was a challenge, and he needed to make this smug, little pirate beg.

Gods, he’s so pretty. He—

Shanks’ eyes rolled back, whatever he’d planned to say disappearing when the swordsman pierced him. Rough, angry, owning. Exactly what he needed.

“Hawk Eye— Hawk. Fuuck, you feel so fucking good, baby.”

“This it, huh,” he snarled, shoving Shanks’ thigh toward him with one hand, and grabbing that whining throat with the other. “Are you a little toy made just for me? Following me around until I sink my blade in you?”

Oh, those golden eyes. Shanks could have died right then, letting this man have him, but he didn’t want it to end. Didn’t want him to leave. 

And he just couldn’t help himself.

Mihawk had never made that sound before. He had his prey beneath him, flushed and desperate, those soft, brown eyes almost broken. 

Then there was pain.

He didn’t know what was happening until he saw that fucking smirk, but it was too late.

Shanks had found that little wound on his back, and dug his nails in. 

He looked so fucking smug before he followed his lover, arching his back while he came across his chest and stomach. It didn’t stop him from making Mihawk twitch and moan with sharp pleasure from the pain he kept twisting into his skin. 

They both whimpered and gasped while Mihawk kept fucking his come even deeper. Shanks’ nails in his skin were the strings of a marionette, controlling him, owning him.

It felt unreal.

The Warlord wanted to be angry, wanted to punish the grinning lover he still pierced, but he couldn’t think. 

Just a little while. A little while longer without thinking, until the enemies were taunting and teasing again, another round of showers to clean a different kind of mess away.

It felt…

It wasn’t safe.

“Where ya going, loser?”

Shanks’ high dropped fast, almost as fast as Mihawk climbed back into his fancy clothes. 

He didn’t want it to end.

“Sleep well, rookie. Tomorrow’s your last day.”

 

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

~~~

~~~⏰🗡️🔴⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~

 

“Can’t sleep without me, clown?”

“No, shithead,” Buggy sneered, and Crocodile’s deep laughter poured through the transponder snail until Mihawk felt an almost smile touch his lips. “You’re an agent now, and we’d like an update.”

“Of course, Mr. President,” he teased, though he felt heavier with every breath. “This very late night update is that I’m floating on the sea.”

“Where did you end up heading first,” Crocodile interrupted Buggy’s grumbles, and his lovely voice sent guilt coursing through Mihawk’s veins.

“With these conditions, I should make it to Majiatsuka by this time tomorrow.”

“That’s the, uh,” Buggy groaned in thought, with the sound of rustling paper accompanying his noises. 

“That’s one of the island kingdoms around Dress Rosa, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Buggy answered Crocodile’s question, while Mihawk stared into nothing. “It’s right here, but that’s– You’re not gonna check out Whole Cake first? And Germa’s creepy boats are parked to the east. Which suitor lives–”

“Mihawk.”

He couldn’t speak.

“What’s wrong,” Buggy asked, quiet after Crocodile’s rage. 

Until he found his own. 

“Are you fucking STUPID? We don’t have a plan! I can’t believe you, you BATSHIT CRAZY fucking asshole. I’m gonna–”

“Explain,” Crocodile ordered, that dangerous purr ending Buggy’s rant. “Why are you going to the estate?”

“I’m going near the estate,” the swordsman cleared his throat, grateful that there was just enough room on his boat to pace. “I’m sorry I wasn’t truthful, but I didn’t quite lie. I’ll still try to gather intel to thin the crowd, bloodlessly if possible.”

“You do realize the sheer amount of manpower between you, right? The fucking surveillance?” Crocodile’s voice was edged with that dangerous disappointment, that waiting rage. “Hells, he probably already knows where you are with how much the Marines–”

“I can’t take it! I can’t take another fucking second of this!”

Nothing but the wind in the sails. 

Nothing but his ragged breathing, and his heart that was too fucking loud.

“Mihawk,” Buggy asked softly. True softness for the man that had tortured him, tormented him, taken and used his lover like a fucking whore. Mihawk couldn’t understand the forgiveness he’d been given.

He didn’t need it anymore.

“I’ll try, I will, I swear,” the swordsman vowed, not sure if he was telling the truth. “But I need her!”

“Little prince–”

“I don’t want to force her. I don't ever want to force her again. I want to respect her wishes, and wait until we know what she needs, what she wants… but I don’t want that. Not really.”

Mihawk gave a hateful laugh, nearly choking on his self loathing, but his rage would stop spilling out.

“I want to go in there, and grab her, and slaughter everyone on that island! I want to kill everyone that’s ever fucking looked at her! I want–”

“Hey, crybaby, you think I don’t fucking want that,” Buggy fumed, death in his voice.

“That’s why I’m doing this,” Mihawk slumped, not knowing when the tears began. “You deserve her. I’ll try not to go in there unless there’s no other way, but I need to be close.”

“What are you talking about,” Crocodile breathed. 

There wasn’t enough room on this boat to have these emotions, and Mihawk had to clench his fists to keep from tearing it to pieces.

“I need her, but I’d rather she hate me than… I’ll be the monster, so you don’t have to. I think I can live with her hate if I know she’s with you. With someone she loves.”

Nothing but the waves. 

“The security is still fucking vicious,” Crocodile rasped, anger draining from his voice. “And with the suitors’ people, and Sylvad’s pet Marines… That’s a lot of armies to fight.”

“I’ll be fine, and she already hates Shanks, so he can do whatever he has to,” Mihawk sighed as visions of violence soothed him. “The two of us should be able to tear the place asunder. The Cross Guild will need to relocate if it comes to that though. Probably disband, and go into hiding. You can take her somewhere. You can take care of her.”

“Shut the fuck up, you’re not doing this! She wouldn’t want—“

“Buggy, I’ll try to wait,” Mihawk pleaded, surprised that he still wanted permission. “Please, let me be the last resort. Call me if something happens, and I’ll bring her back to you. I’ll be the monster. Let me… please.”

The swordsman could hear his silent clown, those desperate breaths echoing through the night air.

That silence dragged on too long, and he couldn’t get her broken laughter out of his mind. Her uncle’s threats that Buggy had scrawled and crumpled in his rage and despair. The wound she had dealt him when she left. How perfectly cold her eyes had been. 

Until she wouldn’t meet his gaze. 

“I think she was telling the truth,” Buggy whispered, hardly breaking the silence. “She wanted to go, even though... I don’t think she’ll forgive you.” 

“I know. She shouldn’t.”

“Are you trying to be selfish, or selfless, little prince? Because either way, you’re fucking doing it wrong.”

The swordsman let out his own broken laughter, ducking into the small cabin to find a bottle of red. 

“Listen to me, bright eyes,” his business partner urged. “If you need to be out there, then do it, but don’t do this.”

“Don’t drink and sail,” Mihawk asked, popping the cork to pour the fine wine down his throat. 

He didn’t want to taste it. To observe the colors. He didn't want to notice the hint of plums, or the lack of his little bloodhound that he had wanted to taste the world with. 

“No, don’t be a fucking idiot,” Crocodile sighed. “Don’t act like you’ve already lost her. You don’t know what you’ll be able to do yet, or how she’s gonna feel. Our sweet girl is fierce.”

“Of course she is,” Buggy agreed, a steady faith in his voice that Mihawk envied. 

He had changed too late.

“Don’t throw your heart away because you don’t think you deserve it.” 

His scarred lover had touched the truth too close, as though the grief in those words wasn’t just for him. 

“You’re not gonna find a way if you think you’ve already lost, so if you’re gonna do this, then quit fucking around. Find out what our girl wants. Get her back. Convince her to stay.”

“But—“

“And you’re gonna work with us,” Buggy cut in, sounding brighter, his rage shifted back to annoyance. “We’re getting my star back, and I’m not gonna let you take all the credit, asshole.”

The World’s Greatest Swordsman was drifting alone on his one-man boat again. 

Not so alone. 

“You’ll call me if…”

“If we need a monster, you’ll be the first one I’ll call,” his clown promised, bringing a wave of sick relief at the thought. “But this whole sacrificing yourself for our happiness shit is fucking lame. Can you try not to be so dramatic?”

Silence. Nothing but the water. 

Nothing until the laughter started. Warm, deep laughter at their tearful swordsman, and their dramatic clown that joined in with a snort before they all forgot what they were laughing about. 

“I’m sorry I lied, daddy,” Mihawk breathed, suddenly cold at the thought of sleeping. 

“You’ll get your punishment. Just fly back home, little bird.”

“And stop being such a dumbass, please,” Buggy groaned, sounding squished as though a massive arm had curled around him. 

“No promises,” Mihawk laughed, “but I will try… Thank you.”

The Cross Guild said their slow goodnights, leaving the swordsman on that quiet sea.

He drifted alone on his one-man boat, but this time he floated between his distant lovers, knowing that he had always been right. Love isn’t safe. 

Fuck being safe. 

 

~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~

Notes:

So I went a little wild here. Writing Mishanks' backstory felt like utter self indulgence, so I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did! I love all of our fucked up boys so very much 😭

Who's ready to make some sweets with Katakuri though? 🍩😏

~

Fic Updates & Extras:
Special thanks to the commenter who referred to Shanks' pants as "grandma couch patterned" a few months ago, it has lived in my brain rent free. I can't find the comment on tumblr or Ao3, but you have my eternal gratitude for making me snort every time I see him and his stupid fucking pants now 😅🙏🏼

~

I've included a timeline below with OP Canon and Numbers Game events in case y'all would like to see where all the flashbacks line up. I left out any events that gave away the Reader's age for those that don't want to see that, but I'll make a separate post on tumblr with more details for those that do.

You have no idea how much I reduced this timeline, lol. My actual timeline is full of a ton of canon details since I plan to reuse it for other fics, and I of course left out the Numbers Game spoilers. I only brought this version up to six years before the current time because I'm still cleaning up the rest of my notes, but I'm happy to share more later if you're interested.

I apologize that I don't have the timeline in text format yet. I will be adding that soon since images aren't accessible for everyone. Please let me know if you'd like that so that my adhd brain doesn't forget!!

~

The vast majority of the canon details were compiled by the sweet, glorious, super heroes at the One Piece Wiki, and The Library of Ohara. I would be lost without them!!!! 🙌😭🙏🏼

I'm basing the Numbers Game geography off of This Map by xads181 on Reddit. It is absolutely stunning, holy wowzers! 😍

~

Do you know how little fucking time it takes to get between most of these islands? I thought my timeline was going too fast, but Oda really just had them speedrun their adventure while we take 25+ years to watch it. I love him so much 😅💜

 

Numbers Game Abbreviated Timeline ~ 6-52ish years ago:

 

~

I made this timeline using Miro if you're interested. It's got a free or paid version, and it's been helping me so much. (I completely ignore the AI (🤢) and collaborative features, but the mindmapping and such is just so good!) Writing this long of a fic with so much to keep track of was wild in my messy, poorly titled google docs list 😅

Chapter 34: Can You Pretend?

Summary:

Getting to know the hunters is getting to you, especially when your own past gets too much attention.

~

Ch. 33 ~ Recap:
You decided that you would kill Shanks for Buggy if he forced you to marry him, and Shanks realized that there was hatred behind your eyes. Mihawk confessed his plan to be the villain so that he could bring you back to Buggy. Crocodile and Buggy encouraged him to try to find another way.

Notes:

I can't believe that all of these random thoughts I braindumped months ago are finally getting into the story 🥰🥰

~

Dark Content Warning:
There's plenty of fun in this chapter, but there are some extremely potentially triggering scenes. PLEASE DO NOT READ if these might be triggering for you!!! I’ve included a summary directly below the scenes, so that you won’t miss the story if you need to not be in the BIG FEELS of the scene. The summaries will be bracketed with ~⚫~SUMMARY~⚫~ Please take care of yourself, you are not alone! 💜

Also, I hope everyone remembers the tag/warning: Cross Guild Boys are VILLAINS. It’s been here since day one, so 🤷‍♀️ I didn't bracket that scene, but please remember who they are! I still love my sweet, bad boys 🥰 but you have been warned!!!!

~ 1st ⚫ ~ PLEASE DO NOT READ this section if childhood trauma regarding parents fighting could be triggering. Flashback of very small children witnessing/hearing their parents having a very heated argument, from the child's POV. The topic of the fight is a bit of a spoiler, so if any kind of relationship trauma could trigger you, you can check the summary first before diving in.

~ 2nd ⚫ ~ PLEASE DO NOT READ this section if severe mental illness episodes, treatment, or hospitals might be triggering for you.

I have run out of tag space, so I'll add the random additional content warnings for each chapter here: death of an unnamed character, mental health episodes and treatment, childhood trauma.

~

!!! SPOILER WARNING !!!
Fic currently contains spoilers for up to chapter 1064 or episode 1093. As we get further into Egghead Arc where our lovely boys are showing up more, there will be more spoilers as time goes on. Sorry y'all, I'm trying to keep most spoilers small details, but Cross Guild is endgame, lol.

~

Alternate POV Symbols:
🌲 ~ Reader | 🐊 ~ Crocodile | 🗡 ~ Mihawk | 🤡 ~ Buggy | 🔴 ~ Shanks | ⏰ ~ Flashbacks for listed POV | ⚫ ~ Scenes depicting Dark Content as listed in Author's Notes

Extras:
Numbers Game Tumblr Masterlist
Ongoing Series Playlist ~ YouTube Music Link ~ YouTube Link
Chapter Tunes ~ Taste of You (feat. Dove Cameron) ~ Rezz | Crazy on You ~ Hidden Citizens

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

Kat wasn’t here. 

Your sister wasn’t here with her wide eyes that were usually sharp with disdain, but always held concern for you. Always held an attention to your needs that you didn’t want her to carry. 

But not tonight. 

“How is this supposed to be protective? Shouldn’t you be giving me some fucking oven mitts?”

Your sister was nowhere to be seen, and you were trying extra fucking hard not to scream at the staff while they squeezed you into this too-tight, leather get up. The endless straps and studs seemed to be purposely placed in the least comfortable places. 

“I assure you, Miss Sylvad, this outfit will be highly protective.”

That voice came wafting over from the corner, Uncle’s favorite assistant finally breaking her silence when she slinked toward you. Her unnervingly straight hair was almost hypnotizing as it swayed with her movements.

You scowled at her.

“Funny, I’ve never seen a chef in leather before.”

“Then you haven’t been in the right kitchen,” she teased. “Bethany, please demonstrate to Miss Sylvad how to undress on her own, just in case. Baking can be so messy.”

Darla reached out to touch one of the dangling zippers along your side, and you almost gave in. Almost lunged for her fucking throat. 

“It’s been almost two years now, hasn’t it,” you asked instead, letting true pity coat your voice.

“Since what, Miss Sylvad,” she smirked. She was still too fucking close. 

“Since you became his favorite,” you soothed, patting her shoulder. “Better set aside all the berry you can now, Darla. When Uncle drops people, they tend not to get back up.”  

“There’s no need to be cruel, sweetie,” your mother breezed in with a smoothie. She took a sip while she walked up to you, giving the assistant no choice but to move out of the way. 

You were too busy getting a brain freeze to spit one of your usual retorts, although the urge to ask about your sister nearly pushed past the discomfort. 

 

~~~

 

The courtyard filled with applause at the sight of you, and your Sylvad smile deepened when you imagined the most satisfying ways to silence the vultures. The huge screen showed you strutting down the path, which was the only way you could fucking walk in that domestic dominatrix outfit.  

They’d even given you a tiny, studded apron.

Breathe. Just breathe. Don’t let it in. 

There she was.

Kat was staring at you, her face comically shocked, and you hoped your own shock didn’t show.

Your sister was seated with the Vinsmoke family, and the brothers seemed to be caught in a loop of gawking at you, and returning their attention to her. Their lustful, puppy dog eyes were comical on their own, but watching them look at her like that flashed too many feelings through you that you didn’t have time to name. 

Yeah, it would be weird to marry her favorite.

“May I offer you a ride, Miss Sylvad?”

“A ride,” you asked, almost squeaking when that velvety voice draped over you. You’d been so distracted by your sister, you hadn’t realized that the massive pillars you were heading toward were covered in leather and spurs.

And waiting for you. 

“A ride...”

Your head barely reached above his knees, which happened to have deadly looking spikes on them, pointed straight for your throat. Thankfully, Katakuri shifted them away before he kneeled down. He waited for your nod, then grabbed you so gently around the middle, and it took everything in you not to squeal when you soared through the air. 

“You can hold onto this if you like, but I promise that I will catch you if you fall.”

“Mhm, thank you,” you hummed nervously to the side of his face, clinging to another large spike on his shoulder that was hidden beneath his scarf. 

It was surprisingly warm this high up as you perched on the heat of his body. The feathers of his scarf were comfortable, slightly tickling around you.

“Are you afraid of heights?”

“I think I’m supposed to be,” you joked, earning what you thought was a smile beneath all those feathers. “I don’t know why I thought you’d be taller than these trees.”

“I’m not a giant, Y/N.”

What a voice… If you weren’t scared of getting knocked off of his shoulder by a branch, you might have passed out.

“Just, uh, king-sized then?”

That crimson eye turned its attention to you, and his next words almost did knock you out.

“I hope that you’ll find me… husband-sized, Miss Sylvad. May I set you down?”

“Mhm,” was all you could manage, until you were clinging to his hand again. Your date held you aloft while he sat cross legged on a grassy hill, setting you down in front of the strangest kitchen equipment you’d ever seen. There were two sets of everything for your different sizes, all in neon colors that looked surreal under the golden sky. 

Your grin faded for a second when you noticed the staff and their snails in the surrounding trees, but you shook it off. 

“What are we making?”

 

~~~

 

You were so messy.

“They don’t have to be perfect, Y/N,” Katakuri chuckled while you struggled to shape your dough into circles. “And we need to let the dough rise for an hour before we fry them.”

“An hour?”

“Good things take time.”

He motioned you toward the sink, and you washed yourself up before giggling while you held out the hose for him. His soapy water slid down the side of the hill, and your mind flashed an image of you leaping onto it like a water slide.

“This is a good laugh. I hope to hear more of this one from you.” 

Katakuri had frozen you again, your laughter fading while you watched him dry his hands on a towel the size of a rug.

You never thought you’d feel smaller than you had with…

No.

Buggy had a real name. 

You’d gotten rid of the names from before. “First love.” “Second love.” They weren’t real.

But what should you call them?

Nothing. Stop thinking about them.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t,” you took a breath, fixing your fucking face. “I’m just thinking about our doughnuts. We really have to wait an hour?”

“Would you like to go somewhere while we wait,” Katakuri’s voice rumbled over you until you shivered. “I can give us some privacy so we can speak freely.”

Privacy. 

With this “not a giant,” giant man. A very pretty, giant man.

“I’d like that.”

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

 

They had all known this was going to happen, that Y/N would have to date the other men before she could leave with him.

Yet Shanks couldn’t stop feeling like a failure, so he latched onto any idea that might help him fix this. 

His current idea was making him sick, but not as sick as Buggy must feel, listening to—

“Looks like we’re not the only ones hoping for a peek,” the red haired Vinsmoke laughed to his brothers.

Shanks needed to get his shit together. He’d noticed the three men before they emerged from the trees, but he’d forgotten why he should care about them. 

Normally, they wouldn’t be a threat to him.

The blue haired one stepped up to smirk at him, and Shanks was almost sure his name was Niji. 

“The Emperor of the Sea wanted another look, eh,” the blue one asked. “Didn't get enough of our little princess last night? Well, that’s a good sign. I’m looking forward to having a taste for myself.”

“Looks like we’re out of luck,” the green one— Yonji complained, pointing through the trees toward a large hill. 

Shanks looked away from the princes so he wouldn’t hurt them. He couldn’t fight, couldn’t risk getting kicked out. 

He couldn’t see her through that dome of mochi the massive pirate had caged her in.

She’s okay. She has to be. 

“There might not be enough left of her to taste when he’s done with her.”

Shanks had to leave before he killed them, finding his own reclusive spot to stare at the giant wall between him, and the woman his two lovers loved. 

Buggy was listening. Or maybe she wasn’t wearing the locket? 

It was a small hope that did nothing for his guilt, or the well-deserved hate he’d planted in her.

Mihawk’s golden eyes filled his mind, tears making them impossibly beautiful when he apologized. 

When he finally said it back. 

It felt like hours went by while he watched that unmoving room. Useless. 

I’ve never had… She helped Hawk open up. She made Buggy feel loved. It was her.

Shanks hit the back of his head against the tree he’d leaned on, until he remembered all of those cam-snails in the forest. 

So the Emperor tried his best to imitate her. To put on that face. To pretend that everything was alright. 

He had no idea how she hid so well. Shanks’ own hidden truths were stuffed so far down that he almost didn’t believe them himself, but she had to lie with every breath. 

Y/N has a strength I never knew someone might need. Not like this. 

 

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~

 

He wondered how many hours of his life had been drained away in dingy taverns just like this one. Hiding in the darkest corner, a book with a dragon on the cover still unread in his hand, the World’s Greatest Swordsman listened. 

Mihawk didn’t expect to hear anything of note here, but he’d landed at Majiatsuka just early enough to book a room for the night. He couldn’t think about anything besides his need to protect her, and resisting his need to hop back on his boat, and go straight there.

“Hey, did you catch the feed tonight,” a red faced patron called out as two other drunks joined his table.

“Shh, Jacob, don’t say that shit so loud,” the one on the right laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. “You know the whole thing’s illegal, right?” 

“Yeah,” the one on the left spat, “and I know for a fact those assholes would only get a slap on the wrist, but poor folks like us? I don’t wanna know what kinda fine we’d get if we’re caught watching.”

That unread book was shut. 

“I really hope they show the good stuff soon,” Right complained, leaning forward with a hushed, slimy tone. “Can you imagine what that giant dick must have done to that rich slut’s cunt?”

“Oh yeah,” Left agreed with a laugh. “I imagined it plenty of times after the feed last night. Can’t wait for that whore to—“

“Jacob, was it?”

Mihawk shoved Left’s headless body to the floor, stealing his chair to sit across from the whimpering man. He ignored the screams while the place cleared out, and he ignored Right’s headless body that was leaking blood onto the sticky table.

He had dirtied Yoru on their weak blood, so he cleaned his blade while Jacob pissed himself.  

“Would you like to tell me everything you know about that feed, Jacob,” Mihawk drawled, more death waiting to pour from him. Endless death until he held her again. “Or…”

“I-I’ll tell you, please sir, p-plea—“

“Don’t waste my time, Jacob. Tell me about the feed.”

 

~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

"I'd like that."

His eyes looked even prettier when you said those words. 

He’s still a hunter. He’s still using you. Don’t forget.

“I’m going to use my devil fruit power to create a room around us. No one will be able to see or hear us, but I promise to lower it whenever you wish.”

He’s so careful with me. This leech must really want to win.  

Your consent had hardly left your lips before your world became soft and pale, his power enveloping the entire hilltop, including the little kitchen and lamp posts that came with it. He'd kept everything except for the rotating pedestals that the nearest cam-snails had been perched on.

The smell in the air was slightly sweet, but the feeling of being trapped still crept in, almost leaving your throat in a scream. 

“It’s alright, Miss Sylvad. I’ll drop it right now if you want me to, but I’d like to talk without the surveillance. I won’t move. I won’t touch you.”

Katakuri’s voice had lost the slight tease he’d been giving you, speaking in an almost businesslike tone. 

So he’s good at pretending too.

“Thank you, Katakuri,” you mirrored his tone. “What would you like to speak with me about?”

Here it was. The old, familiar rhythm of negotiation that your dad had spent so many years making sure you understood. 

“My little sister has been kidnapped by Emperor Blackbeard. Since my mother was defeated, I am ashamed to admit that we are not equipped to get her back on our own. Pudding is only sixteen, Y/N,” he urged, enough emotion in his words to make you pause, even with your determination to keep him out. 

“I’m so sorry, but how can—“

“My family needs this marriage to happen, but I wanted you to know my true intentions. Please, marry one of us, Y/N. With the financial support your uncle has promised, we’ll be able to afford to bring an army with us to get her back.”

Those pretty eyes were urgent now. Almost desperate.

“There is nothing more important to me than protecting my family,” he whispered, although his voice was too large to feel quiet. “I swear that we will care for you. We will protect you with our lives. I’ll get you away from these people, Y/N. You’re an older sister, are you not?”

“Yes, but I’m… I’m sorry, but I can’t make any promises yet. Thank you for telling me the truth.”

A heavy fear gripped your heart, your whole body fighting not to shake beneath this man’s fierce request. 

He needed this. 

What will he do to get it?

“I understand,” he nodded, taking a breath that could have sucked the air from the room. “We need you, but our relationship doesn’t need to be for duty alone. May I return to showing you the kind of husband I will be?”

“I’d like that.” 

The truth of that surprised you, and you would have scolded yourself, but he moved. Stretching out his long legs, he laid on his side, propped up on his elbow. 

“You didn’t choose these clothes,” he noted, almost a tease. 

“How could you tell?” 

Sarcasm, seriously? I really am insane. 

“Leather molds to your body when it’s worn regularly. You don’t look very comfortable in that.”

Heat shivered through you, and his eyes went a bit wide.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I wasn’t trying to—“

Laughter filled that sweet, soft room, a dam of tension breaking loose, and you would have joined him on the ground if your outfit wasn’t so stiff. 

“Oh,” you caught your breath, “I’m laughing because you were right, not because I wouldn’t…”

Holy shit, I want to fuck him. There’s that fucking death wish again.  

“What have you heard about me, Miss Sylvad?”

Absolutely nothing. Totally blank. Your brain couldn’t recall a single thought until you looked away from him, pacing over the soft ground.

“You’re a Sweet Commander of the Big Mom Pirates,” you started listing the few details you could remember. “You ate the Mochi Mochi fruit. Your bounty is over a billion berries. Uh, you’re not a giant.” 

You shrugged when you turned back toward him, and almost lost your thoughts again.

“Oh, and you never lie on your… Are you a side sleeper, then?”

Tingles danced over your skin while Katakuri laughed full out, an overwhelming sound. He leaned his head back, the feathers that covered his face moving with his breath. 

“Why didn’t I think of that,” he rasped, still chuckling. “Would have been more comfortable than all the walls I’ve slept against.”

He sighed at the confusion on your face before rolling onto his back. 

“So, you do lie on your back, but you sleep sitting up,” you frowned as you walked closer, almost reaching out to touch him.

“It was a lie I told to protect my siblings. A sacrifice that has made me strong for them, but always alone.”

“I’m sorry, Katakuri,” you reached out now, smoothing your palm over the pink skull tattooed on his arm. 

“Don’t be,” he hummed, seeming so relaxed while he laid before you. “I recently lost a good battle, and it’s made me wonder if there are better ways that I can be a good brother.”

“Must have been one hell of a fight if Charlotte Katakuri is on his back for a stranger.”

You leaned against his arm, hoping that he’d take the playful tease. All the talk of protecting his siblings was taking your mind to places you’d rather not go.

You’d rather be following that death wish of yours. 

“I don’t want you to be a stranger,” he whispered as he rolled back onto his side to look at you. “I want to take you away from these people. I want you to meet my sister, and we can bring yours with us. We can protect them both.”

“I don’t—“

“But my goal for tonight is to help you relax.”

There was absolutely no way you could relax. 

“You’ve been doing so well, carrying whatever this weight is that your family has given you,” Katakuri praised. The touch of his fingers along your arm, and stroking down your back, felt dreamlike. Everything was strange and fuzzy. 

“Thank you.”

“I have one more thing to share,” he rasped, taking back his hand to touch his scarf. “Hiding was something else I did for a sister. I think that reason is gone now, so all I’m left with are my own fears.”

“Is it fangs,” you breathed, trying to be light. “That’s what my guess is, which is totally fine! I’d be more freaked out if you had puppies under there or something.”

“Puppies,” he huffed a laugh, cocking his head.

“I don’t know,” you squeaked, unable to shut yourself up. “Is it scars? I thought I saw… you know, I actually think that scars are—“

“Cute.”

“Uh, y-yeah,” you froze as a very large finger tilted your chin up to meet his gaze. “That’s not the word I was thinking of, but they can be…”

“You are very cute, Y/N,” Katakuri hummed, and your mind blanked out again. “May I show you?”

You remembered how to nod, and luckily you’d already prepared yourself for what your suitor might be hiding. 

That scarf was a small mountain of feathers when he removed it, all that softness gone, and replaced with sharp fangs, and scars that stretched from the corners of his lips to above his ears on either side. His fangs seemed almost like tusks, jutting out to stretch over his lips.

Then he opened his mouth. 

“So I was right on both counts,” you gave a nervous smile at the sight of all of the sharp teeth in that mouth, not just the four large fangs that he couldn’t hide. “Do I win a prize?”

You knew that you’d been right about when he’d smiled before as you watched his whole face move with it now. 

“Well, I believe it’s almost time to fry our doughnuts.”

 

~~~

 

“Mm, fuck! That’s so good, Katakuri.”

He laughed at you then, tossing the rest of the massive doughnuts into his wide mouth that seemed just a little less dangerous when it was filled with sweets. 

You still had a plate of the smaller, glazed pastries, but the numbers were dwindling.

“This has been a lovely date,” you hummed, honestly feeling good for the moment. Katakuri had taken your mind away for a while, and it was a gift.

“Would you like it to be over,” he checked in, his brow arching even higher while he scanned you. 

He’s still so pretty.

He made you shy, but you were bold enough to shake your head. 

“Then would it be alright if I looked at you, pretty thing?”

Holy shit…

Katakuri had barely grazed your hip with his finger, but his voice went so deep, so dark, that you threw your head back, knees almost buckling.

He chuckled, helping you stay balanced while you struggled with all of the stiff bits of leather strapped to your body. 

Your locket fell out from where you’d stuffed it into the tight material, and you tried to leave it on the ground. You really tried to leave it behind.

It was a chain of guilt and brightness around your neck, and the best you could do was carry it with you while you tried not to think about drifting further and further away from that daydream of a life. 

“You are so beautiful, Y/N. May I create a bed for you so that I can see you better?”

Soon you were lifted up, perched on a mattress made of mochi that was too high for you to relax completely, until you forgot all about it. 

“You want me to touch you, don’t you, Y/N,” he asked in that tone that sent you reeling. He had set you up a little higher than his shoulders, and he leaned over you, his face so close as he took in a breath. “Gods, you smell so sweet.”

Why am I already whimpering?

“I’m going to touch you now, but let me know—“

“Touch me, Katakuri, please!”

The sound he made when you begged made you arch your back, but then you were gasping, fear creeping back in as he spread your legs. He held your thighs apart with his hands while he stared at you like you were a treat for him to eat. 

“I’ll be careful,” he breathed, a soothing threat while his sharp mouth hung open at the sight of you. “I’ll keep my head right here. Let me taste you, please. Let me fuck my tongue into you. I’ll be so—”

“Please! Gods, please— oh gods, oh f-fuck.”

Katakuri…

Katakuri’s tongue felt so good, so insanely good. You’d never thought to imagine what a tongue that size could do, but the press of it, the strength, the size, had you twitching and begging within seconds. 

And he’d told the truth. He was so careful. Careful to hold your twitching legs so they wouldn’t go near his fangs. Careful to keep his mouth away from your skin, just his tongue reaching out. 

That was all he needed.

“Kata-Katakuri…”

The precision he had was unbelievable. The flick of that huge tongue kept finding your clit over and over, and his pleased moans vibrated through you like a toy, an incredible toy. Then he did what you’d begged for.

Your nails looked so small digging into the back of his hands. He went slow, but soon his tongue was inside you, making you forget the world again.

“Don’t stop,” you begged weakly, surprised you could speak at all while the mochi bed sank toward the ground.

“We don’t have to stop,” he promised, smiling down at you while he traced his fingers over your skin. “But the bells are ringing outside. I believe our time is up.”

You whined. 

“Does this mean that you’d like to see me again,” he laughed while you still struggled to move. 

“I don’t think I’m supposed to answer that,” came your grumbled response. 

“Mm, what about now?”

Katakuri had brought you one of those giant towels, but he dropped it to trace his finger all the way up your thigh, barely touching the twitching, needy flesh he’d just tasted. 

“Fuck, yes. Please.”

“Good girl. I’m gonna take such good care of you, Y/N. My cute, little bride.”

 

~~~

 

No favorites. No least favorites.

Over and over and over. 

You hadn’t expected to have any favorites, and you were pissed that you already seemed to have them mapped out. 

Uncle Cedrick would use it against you, so it was better not to care either way, but your stupid brain wouldn’t stop. 

Katakuri had joined your family for breakfast, so polite as he sat on the grass by the patio. 

“What is your role, Kathryn?”

“Role,” Kat frowned at him.

“Position,” he tried again, glancing at you. “What do you do?”

“Kathryn is invested in her family,” Cedrick bragged, before scowling at you for speaking at the same time.

“Kat’s been studying business. Have you started your masters program yet,” you asked cheerfully, hating yourself for not asking sooner. 

“No,” she mumbled as she caught your uncle’s gaze. “Too much family stuff going on.”

…

“I brought you all some doughnuts.”

 

~~~

 

Today’s hunt was for the “truth.” It had been your choice, but you were sick of this shit already. 

“You’re a dog person,” Niji declared while his eyes traveled down your body.

“Well, I love dogs, but we’ve always had—“

“You don’t like spicy food.”

Oh thank gods, the bells.

 

~~~

 

Each hunter had to submit a list of their own questions, along with their guesses at what your answers would be. A lazy idea, but it was giving you a glimpse into what they thought of you.

“You really like my brother.”

“I don’t think it’s fair for me to answer that either way,” you teased. 

How does he keep his hair from burning with those sparks?

Cracker gave you another maniacal grin, his bare chest like a wall that kept you from checking your Uncle’s expression. Yours was on display again, spread across the side of the building, so you did your best to school it.

“That’s alright. Everyone likes my brother. But you… You’re a picky eater.”

You gave him the win. It was true enough when it came to the food your family served.

 

~~~

 

“Redwoods are your favorite trees.”  

“That’s right, Mr… Iceburg,” you smiled. You still hadn’t trained yourself to hate him for being here, for being a leech. He was still Mr. Iceburg in your mind, and that held too much weight. 

He’d guessed the most truths so far, and that teenage crush of yours wanted to crush all of your caution away when he patted you on the head at the end of his turn.

Stupid brain.

 

~~~

 

“You like cookies.”

“I’m not sure if that counts, Emperor Shanks,” you flirted while you planned his gruesome death.

“You’re right, who doesn’t like cookies,” he smiled that infuriatingly charming smile. “I think that you like to dance, but might need a little more practice.”

More images flashed in your mind. Too fast. Too real.

His pulse against your skin. His strong fingers controlling you, digging into your hip while he pressed himself—

The ringing of those bells was your new favorite sound. 

“I’ll give you that one, Shanks.”

You covered your hate with fluttering lashes, and a gentle bite to the lip that he always loved to stare at. 

He wasn’t staring at it today. 

Hot rage turned to icy fear when you saw that look in his soft eyes. Like he was seeing too far, too deep. 

What did he see?

 

~~~

 

Giberson already smelled like whiskey when he folded his lanky body into the chair across from you. You were more jealous than anything else, wishing that you could numb this shitty lunch away. 

“How are you doing, my dear?”

“Well, thank you, sir.”

“Oh no,” he laughed, that sharp smell getting stronger when he opened his mouth too wide. “Just call me Gibby. That’s what my friends call me.”

“Of course, Gibby,” you smiled. You knew you could do this. You could feel all the eyes on your skin. Appeasing an old man was nothing. 

Just boring.

“Alright, where should we begin?” 

The old man cleared his throat loudly, squinting at a notebook he’d pulled from his jacket, the silk lining gleaming in the sun. 

“You received your degrees from Pucci University. Excellent school,” he hummed while you tried not to frown. “I would have expected a Sylvad to attend an older institution, given your connections, but I’m sure that the food alone had to be worth it. Did you enjoy your time in the Gourmet City?”

“I did...”

“Well, let’s keep going. We are on a time limit after all, and I’ve been looking forward to having you all to myself,” he winked before diving back into his notebook.

The Concealer. Information broker. Emperor of the Underworld. 

What the fuck did he find? 

“Ahh, you worked at Polestar Principal Bank, I believe? Upstanding establishment, and just a ferry ride away from Loguetown too. Did you meet any interesting pirates when you weren’t making the rich even richer?”

“W-well—“

“And I noticed that your family always moved with you when you went to a new island,” Giberson beamed, flicking the paper while he nodded. “I just love those strong family bonds. Shows true value.”

Smile. That was a compliment. 

You didn’t believe the lie, but hoped that your face sold it while shame poured through you. Your eyes darted over to your sister against your will, finding her strained smile to reinforce your guilt. 

Wherever you moved, your family had followed, dropping Kat’s life away every time. 

“You enjoy reading fantasy novels, eating spicy food, and you’ve always loved cats.”

“Yes, I—“

“St. Poplar is your family’s original home. I saw that you attended St. Poplar Private School, but took a year off for independent studies before you returned to graduate at the top of your class. It’s strange though, I couldn’t find a scrap of information about that year, and it’s been bothering me for weeks now. Were you traveling abroad? I didn’t find any records of travel, or salaries for home tutors, or…”

Breathing. Were you breathing?

Eyes. So many eyes.

“Oh, dearie me,” Giberson sighed, setting down his evil notebook. “Please, forgive an old man his forgetfulness. That was after your father passed, was it not? Well, I’m grateful that you were able to take that time to be with your family, and I’m so sorry for—“

“It’s fine,” you lied in a voice that was too high, and too fucking fragile. “Do you have any other truths to guess?”

“It’s not a guess if it’s the truth,” Giberson teased while he raised his boozy drink, the ringing of bells coming to your rescue too late. “You are the loveliest, little lady in the New World.”

 

~~~

 

Having private conversations in front of servants had never felt comfortable, but this shit show kept leaving you with no other choice. 

Tonight’s outfit was thankfully close to “normal” clothes, but hair and makeup were still taking too long to wait for privacy, and Kat had started first.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here yesterday.”

You snorted at her little grimace, knowing that you were probably the only person she ever apologized to. 

“Sorry, it’s all good,” you appeased her narrowed eyes.

Your sister had clearly been making an effort to be positive around you since you arrived, but it was comforting to see her being more herself.

“Did you have a good time with the Vinsmokes?”

“Yeah, it was alright,” Kat brushed off, but she pinched her fingers together in her lap, and that odd guilt crept back in. “How was your date with Katakuri?”

“It was surprisingly lovely,” you rushed, ignoring her raised brows while you pushed on. “Do you not want me to marry a Vinsmoke? Because I can try not to end up with your favorite. I wouldn’t want you to—“

“Stop worrying about me,” your sister scolded, shaking her head while she huffed a laugh. “I actually wouldn’t mind being their sister-in-law. I’d love to go see their tech. Fucking hover boots? Honestly, you should marry one of them just for the shoes. I think you’d like their sister too, I hope you get to meet her soon. Their dad seems like a dick, but…”

The lead makeup artist caught your scowl when he blocked your view, so he turned your spinning chair, letting you see your sister’s flustered face.

“Are you sure,” you checked in again, too much guilt to stamp out so quickly.

“Would you shut the fuck up already,” Kat rolled her eyes. “You’re about to go on a date with a two story tall merman. I don’t need you to protect my feelings. I don’t even have any feelings about this, alright? I promise.”

…

“Cut it out,” she groaned at your searching eyes, “and tell me all about your lovely date with that giant, leather boy.”

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🌲🌲🌲⏰~~~

~~~

~~~⚫️⚫️⚫️~~~

 

kitty kat’s gonna wake up. 

Loud noises had woken you. Loud, angry noises.

“You really think I can’t do math, Delaine?” Daddy’s voice sounded scary. “Whatever that thing is in there, it’s not mine.”

“Please, Arbo.” Mommy was crying. “Kathryn was premature, you heard what the doctor said.”

Mommy and Daddy were fighting about little Kitty Kat. 

“Doctors that accept bribes tend to accept even higher bribes, wife.”

You couldn’t open the crib, and you knew you shouldn’t. You weren’t strong enough, or tall enough to climb inside with your little sister, so you dragged one of your chairs over to stand on, and reached your hands through the bars.

“It’s okay, Kitty Kat,” you whispered as you covered her tiny ears, pressing your face between the wooden bars to watch her breathe.

You didn’t want Sissy to be scared.

“Since you’re done denying it, why don’t you tell me who you were out fucking when you should have been with our daughter? How often did you leave her with the governess so you could go sink your claws into some other poor bastard?”

Daddy sounded mad, and sad. 

“And where were you, husband?” That didn’t sound like Mommy. She sounded mean. “You expect me to wait around for months while you're out working, only for you to bore me to death when you grace us with your presence? Oh, please, Arbo! I just need to hear another one of your math stories. Please–”

why are they hurting each other? why won’t they stop?

“Shh, Kitty Kat, everything’s gonna be okay.” Sissy was starting to make little noises, and you couldn’t let her hear. 

“Who was it?”

“Arbo–” 

“WHOSE BABY IS THAT, DELAINE?”

“Daddy… Shh, Sissy. We’re okay.”

“S–Samson. It was Samson. Please, don’t hurt him, Arbo.”

“I’m not going to hurt the fucking chauffeur.” Daddy laughed. Scary laughs. Sad laughs. “I’m going to do him a favor, and make sure he never has to see your face again. Set him up with a nice job on the other side of the fucking planet.”

“Thank–”

“Don’t you dare thank me. You know what? You’ve got two choices, Delaine. Take his baby, and go live out your happy life with that unlucky chauffeur, or get your shit together, and pretend.”

“What–”

“If you want to keep being ‘Mrs. Sylvad,’ which I know you love more than your own family, then you need to put in the fucking work. Think you can do that, Delaine? Can you pretend to be a loving mother? A happy wife? That’s all I’ll ever ask of you, since I know there’s no real heart in that hollow chest of yours. Can you pretend?”

… 

“Of course, Arbo, dear.” That sounded like Mommy. “I’ll do anything to make things right. Whatever will make you happy.”

“Just keep pretending. I’m taking my daughter to the East wing.”

“But… of course, husband. Let me know if I can help with anything.”

 

~~~

 

“Hi, sweet– oh, angel, no! Shh, shh, Daddy’s here.”

Daddy rushed toward you, wiping your tears as he pulled you away from Sissy’s crib. He looked scared, and you couldn’t stop yourself from crying.

He carried you out before you woke her up, walking so fast until you were far away when he set you down.

“Daddy’s so sorry, sweetheart. We didn’t mean to scare you. You were protecting your– protecting Kathryn, weren’t you?”

“Why were you and Mommy so loud?”

Daddy was crying.

“We were just talking, sweetheart, we’re okay. Everything’s okay, Y/N, I promise.”

Daddy was lying.

“Okay, Daddy.”

i can pretend for daddy. i can help him be happy again. 

 

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

~~~

 

~⚫~SUMMARY~⚫~

The scene above is from the reader’s POV as a small child. She woke up to hear her parents arguing loudly about her baby sister, so she reached through the bars of the crib to cover Kat’s ears so she wouldn’t wake up, and get scared. 

During the argument, Arbo accused Delaine of cheating, and asked who Kat’s father was. She admitted to the infidelity after Arbo implied that he had bribed the doctor she had bribed to keep it a secret. She told him that it was Samson, their chauffeur. 

Arbo accused Delaine of neglecting the reader during her affair, while Delaine accused Arbo of expecting her to wait for months, and of “boring her” when he returned from business trips. 

Arbo gave Delaine the option to take Kat, and go live with the chauffeur, or continue to be “Mrs. Sylvad,” by pretending to be a good wife and mother, and stated that he believed she cared more about that than her own family. Delaine agreed to pretend.

From the reader’s very young POV, she noticed that they both cried at different times, that Arbo often sounded mad, scary, or sad, and that Delaine sounded mean, and then “like Mommy again,” after she agreed to pretend.

Arbo came to get his daughter to stay with him in the East wing, and found the reader with her hands over Kat’s ears. He panicked and carried the reader away. He apologized for scaring her, and told the reader that they had just been talking, and that everything was okay. 

The very young reader knew that he was lying, but decided that she would pretend too, so that she could help her dad be happy again.

~⚫~SUMMARY~⚫~

 

~~~

~~~⏰🌲🌲🌲⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

This prince was already out of the game, but you were good at pretending. It helped that your costume for Fukaboshi’s date made you feel like a princess instead of a sex doll.

The crowd was still applauding while the platform lifted you into the air. Your light, flowy dress moved like gentle waves in the breeze, matching the shifting, ocean colors of the fabric. 

You could have gone without all the shells in your hair, and the iridescent scales that were painted around your temples, your shoulders, and along the backs of your hands and wrists. 

Fukaboshi’s soft smile was worth it though, as soft as shark teeth could be. 

“Good evening, Y/N,” he tilted his head toward you, his mane of hair falling forward like glittering curtains. “You are as beautiful as sunlight on the water.”

No favorites. No least favorites. 

 

~~~

 

“How did you know this was my favorite spot,” you beamed, trying not to feel woozy on the platform that had been perched atop your favorite cliff.

“I merely searched for the most beautiful waves on the island. You must know these waters well,” Fukaboshi praised, filling you with a strange pride for such a small thing.

You did know them well. 

Fukaboshi’s people treated you like a princess, doting on you like you were already theirs. They caught and cooked your food before the sky grew dark. There was music, and stories, and dancers, and it should have been lovely, but with every moment, the tide crept further in. 

Soon the waves were crashing loudly along the staggered cliffs, just barely reaching over the edge in a cascade of white that would grow and grow. 

It had always been your favorite spot to scream. 

“They are no longer listening to us.”

“Hmm?”

“I spoke too loudly the other day, didn’t I,” the prince sighed, glancing around at the now empty cliff. “My mother was never quiet in the face of injustice, but it seems that I have lost my chance now. You will be sending me home soon, will you not?”

Your mouth opened, but you took too long to lie.

“They are not listening, but I understand your caution. I want you to know that even if I do not get the resources my people need, I will still help you. We can leave right now, if you wish.”

Fear, hope, grief, and guilt all hit your veins like poison until you almost cried out in pain. Yet, you smiled. Not your Sylvad smile, but a true, sad curve to your lips before you could answer.

“I am so grateful for the offer, Fukaboshi, but I have to stay. I have my own responsibilities, and I won’t abandon them again.” 

Silence rolled in, gentler than the growing tide.

“It may seem a strange thing to say given our situation, but you remind me of my mother.”

“Oh?” You didn’t know what kind of smile to give. 

The merman pulled a locket the size of your face from a satchel at his side, and you turned to let the soft lights of the lanterns below show you what it held. 

“That’s your… mom?” You’d left out the rudest word in that shocked sentence, but there was absolutely no way that tiny woman could have physically birthed him. No way she could have been with the person who had to be King Neptune, his face not even in the picture because he towered over her so thoroughly. “She was beautiful.”

“Yes,” he nodded slowly, looking at the picture before tucking it away. “But she was also strong. Fearless.”

Your memory finally kicked in, and Queen Otohime’s assassination formed into something real, not just words on a page. 

“I apologize,” Fukaboshi smiled. “You are carrying a weight, and I have added more.”

“No, it’s fine,” you didn’t lie. Sometimes just seeing pain that looked like yours felt like relief, a tiny respite from loneliness. Still, you tried to make things light. “I’ve been wondering about that bubble around your waist. Is it like the ones at Sabaody? I didn’t think they could last this far from the mangrove.”

Why am I so bad at making things light?

“So you’ve been to the archipelago,” the prince questioned. There was just a hint of anger in his words, but that hint felt very large as it shook through his enormous form.  

“I… we have a home there. It was mainly for business, but my dad would always bring me so I could see the trees. I haven’t been there since I was a kid.”

Sweet memories of bubble rides turned vile when you remembered how privileged you were. 

“Well, I hope that you did not have to witness what my people are subjected to there. Children should be protected from such ugliness. Unfortunately, the rest of the world seems to ignore or relish in that ugliness, and my people suffer the price.”

“I’m so sorry, Fukaboshi.”

The stars were difficult to see on the water now, the tide slamming against the cliffs again and again until the air was filled with salt. The prince stared at the spray, his fists clenching, almost shaking, and you hated that you could do nothing for him besides letting him leave, or getting him killed.

“My sister was chained while the celestial demons laughed at her tears,” he growled, shaking the wood beneath your feet. “I was forced to watch in silence with the crowd of cowards that are meant to govern this world. They were going to make her their pet!”

This terrifying, two story tall prince bared his teeth, raging at the sky, yet you were still far more afraid of the people he despised. 

“The Dragons…”

“There is no way for me to salvage this, is there,” Fukaboshi implored, his breath heavy. 

You took too long to lie. 

“Let me help you, at least,” he begged, dipping his head toward you. “I cannot see your chains, but I know that they are there. These monsters are using you for their entertainment. I don’t want to leave you here like this.”

Living under the sea might have been nice. 

“Thank you,” you choked out. You couldn’t afford to feel this. Even without the eyes on you, you couldn’t afford to cry anymore. 

You might never stop.

“I’m sorry, but I have to stay. I left before, and…” Stop it. That crack in your voice was too much. You had to stop.

Bells. 

They were distant, but ringing closer while you stared into the eyes of a truly good man that you wanted to send home this instant. He didn’t deserve to rot with these leeches. This prince needed to get as far away from you and your Sylvad smile as possible.

“It has been an honor to meet you, Y/N,” Fukaboshi hummed before the leeches and their snails arrived. “If you ever need a friend in the water, you will find a country’s worth when I tell my people of your kindness and strength.”

“Please, I haven’t done anything to deserve such high praise.”

“I would not survive a challenge such as this, yet you face it with a warrior’s will,” he praised, filling you with a strange pride for such a lie. “I hope that your responsibilities do not keep you from finding true happiness.”

There was no time to answer before your privacy was stripped away again, so the prince joined you in silence. The tide carried your rage for you, violent sprays of white dancing along the cliff. 

It would have felt so good to scream, but at least you knew that another kind soul existed in this world. 

At least you knew that he’d be free of you soon. 

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🌲🌲🌲⏰~~~

 

“What the fuck are you doing, mom?”

“Y/N, please, calm down,” your mom tried to soothe while you grabbed her nearest belongings to throw against the wall. 

You hadn’t been in this manor since you were little, and hated that you had to step into it now. College was supposed to be your escape, but they’d all just picked up and followed you to the nearest family property. You tried to pretend they didn’t exist, but your last call with Kitty had sent you into a rage.

“She’s only in high school, mom, she’s still a kid! I really thought you cared more for her, but you don’t give a fuck, do you? All you do is pretend.”

“Y/N, you have no idea what the world is really like,” she condescended, her chin lifting just a bit. “You have no idea what I have had to–”

“Save your sob story for someone who gives a fuck, mother,” you snarled in her face. 

It probably should have worried you how satisfying her gasp felt when she backed up against the wall. Nowhere to hide from your anger now. 

“If you let him marry her off, especially to a fucking Dragon, then you won’t get a single berry from me. So figure it out, mom. Will you get more money from selling your youngest daughter or your oldest daughter, because you can’t do both, you greedy bitch.”

All that satisfying fear on her face melted away, leaving Mommy with her perfect smile. 

“Of course, sweetie. I’ll try to convince him to wait, but your uncle just wants what’s best for her, and for our family.”

“I don’t care,” you breathed rage against her mask. “I’ll kill you both before I let one of those monsters touch her. I’ll make you poor, and dead. Don’t forget, your daughter’s not well!”

A satisfying hint of fear showed in her eyes before you walked away, harsh laughter following you through the halls.

Your laughter.

 

~~~⏰🌲🌲🌲⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

That was a lot. 

A giggle left your throat at the dumb thought, and at the sound of all the shells falling from your hair beneath the too hot water. 

I’m not strong. Not kind. Not brave. 

The sick guilt in your heart made you want to run across the island to find the prince and beg his forgiveness for making him think that you were anything more than a selfish, entitled, rich girl. You weren’t doing anything special. 

Just trying to fix your mistake. Your failure. 

Trying to run from the cowardice and selfishness that had haunted you since you tried to run the first time. 

Then the second time. 

And the third time was the charm.

So selfish. Selfish piece of shit. I just left her. Abandoned her. 

You tried to take the locket off. It was comfort and torture. 

It was proof that true love existed, and it was a reminder of what a disgustingly selfish bitch you were. You had left your sister to the wolves, so you could go have an adventure, and let a bunch of pirates fuck you like a whore.

The warm metal dug into your palm as you gripped it, but you couldn’t take it off. 

My last selfish thing.

You pleaded with yourself, bargaining with your own thoughts as you crumpled to the floor in defeat. Sobs built up in your throat, and you didn’t have the strength to fight them.

Never again. I won’t be selfish again. 

I’ll protect her.

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🐊🤡🐊🤡~~~

 

“So what were your big, evil plans?”

“What are you asking me,” Crocodile arched a brow at the man. He tugged on Buggy’s hair, his lips curving into a smile before he caught a hint of fear in those crystal eyes. 

He didn’t want to see that fear anymore, especially since his brave, little clown kept trying. Buggy had even told him about Red Hair’s shit with Y/N’s father yesterday, because “secrets keep fucking shit up.”

His clown had made him promise not to kill the pretty boy, though. Not for that, at least. 

“Sorry, that’s a dumb question. What, uh…” Buggy panicked, remembering how grumpy the man got whenever someone mentioned Baroque Works. “Where did you grow up?”

“You wanna get to know me better, so you start with my evil plans,” Crocodile stopped laughing enough to tease. He had to hold his breath when he saw the clown grinning at him, practically glowing.

“Well, we are bad guys after all.”

“We’re not the true villains of this world,” he rasped, taking a swig of scotch before returning his hand to that lovely, blue hair. “But now our guild gets to hit back.”

“I thought Mihawk was the one with a grudge. ‘The Marine Hunter,’ right? I wonder what that’s—“

Buggy turned to ice when that large hand gripped under his chin to tilt his head up, but he melted under Crocodile’s soft gaze. 

It still didn’t make any sense.

“What about you, little clown?”

“Me? I just,” Buggy cleared his throat, heat moving up his neck, his face. 

This man was overwhelming. 

“I wanted to find treasure,” he shrugged, the lightness leaving his voice too fast. “Now I just wanna find her.”

Crocodile’s chest felt tight every time Buggy’s voice dipped like that. Everyone was hurting. He hadn’t kept any of them safe from pain. 

“I wanted to build a place, a home, where I could protect everyone I cared about from those true villains,” he recalled, the shame of that failure hitting differently now. “I wanted to keep my people safe, but I got too… All I cared about was my big, evil plan, until I didn’t have anyone left to protect.”

The silence between them was soft, and Crocodile let out a breath when a gloved hand touched his. 

“Well, daddy,” Buggy soothed with a laugh, “you’ve got a bunch of freaks to look after now. Do you—“

The snail. 

The one for agents. And Mihawk. 

Buggy’s hands flew toward Crocodile’s giant desk to answer while they clambered off the couch.

“Good evening, sir.”

“Zala,” Crocodile relaxed, still pulling out his notepad. “What’s the mission status? Is Marianne—“

“Hey boss, it was amazing! We should definitely go on more heist missions after some PTO.”

“Are you saying the mission’s complete? You only arrived in San Faldo yesterday. How did you infiltrate it so quickly?”

Crocodile reached out to gently nudge Buggy’s nervously bouncing body parts behind him so he wouldn’t be distracted while he stared at the snail. The clown mumbled his apology, sending his fidgeting limbs to the corner of the room while his head floated above the desk. 

“All I had to do was cry, and scream a little, and they locked me right up,” Marianne reported, cheerfully. “Creepy place to put an asylum, though. Every time I looked out a window I saw people in masks. Yikes.”

“Masks,” Buggy asked quietly.

“It’s that carnival city near Water 7,” Crocodile hushed, returning to his own questions. “Zala, what’s your report?”

“Marianne is right, we made a great team.”

“It was so badass, you should’ve—“

“She was able to use the fingerpaints during art therapy to color trap the staff while I used my spikes as lock picks. It was child’s play.”

“I didn’t wanna mess with the patients though, so I hope you don’t mind that we let them out. After I made all their mean nurses cry and drool first, of course. They really liked that.”

“She’s scary,” Buggy praised, impressed with the terrifying teen. 

“Well, what did you find on him?”

“Oh, we didn’t find anything on the doctor,” Marianne drawled, and the sound of frantic snapping came through. 

Luckily, Zala’s voice cut in before Crocodile’s veins could pop. 

“There wasn’t anything useful on Dr. Vorsan, but we did find something on the CFO.”

“A lot of somethings actually.”

“Marianne, why don’t you go check on them? Make sure they're alright?”

“What the fuck are you talking about,” Buggy growled, his whole body connected now as he spoke too close to the snail. 

The scarred man reached out to calm him, but felt his own sickness start to fester, coiling in his stomach.

“Well, Miss Sylvad was listed as a former patient, so we looked for her files, and she had two cabinets dedicated to her.”

“You didn’t read them, did you?” 

Buggy wasn’t breathing right.

“Of course not, Mr. President,” the agent assured, some fear coming through her voice now. “We brought all of her files with us, but there’s more.”

“Definitely more,” Marianne noted, her voice sounding closer as she went on. “I’m glad we stopped for more food, they look hungry.”

“Explain.”

“Right away, sir.”

“Yes, Mr. Zer—Executive Crocodile, sir,” Marianne stuttered, finally sounding serious, but Zala took the lead.

“Some of the patient files included cam-snails with their initials and dates on the shells. I assume they’re recordings of sessions. Most patients that had recordings only had one or two snails in the group enclosure.”

“How many does she have,” Buggy choked out. He was shaking, even with Crocodile’s warm hand on his back.

“At least thirty, Mr. President,” Marianne said gently.

Gentleness couldn’t ease the chaos inside him.

“ETA,” Crocodile managed, having to pull back his own shaky hand.

“About fourteen days. The soonest would be eleven if Daz can snag us a coated ship before we meet at Sabaody. We picked up the other agents too, so we shouldn’t run into any issues getting through.”

“That’s too late. Buggy, whatever’s in there could–”

“I’m not letting random people watch Y/N’s–watch whatever’s on those snails! It’s bad enough that I’m already listening, and all those people are watching her all the time. It’s not right!”

“Sir, we did steal their encryption snail,” Zala offered. “They must have used it for patient privacy, but the white snail is ours now, and it’s already set up to transmit.”

“Transmit…” 

“Yes, Mr. President. If you have a healthy pro-snail, we could securely transmit the recordings to you one at a time. We wouldn’t need to watch them ourselves.”

“No,” Buggy sneered at the larger man, who grimaced before giving orders. 

“Wait for our call, agents. We’re gonna talk it out.”

“No, we’re not watching them. It’s too much!”

“Sir, there’s one more thing you should know,” Zala hurried, not pausing before she let it out. “There were instructions on care, and data transfer from old to young snails, as well as backup transmission logs dating back years. Someone else has all of these recordings.”

…

“Sir, are you still there?”

“We’ll call you back.”

 

~~~

 

“She keeps getting violated! No fucking PRIVACY! We can’t watch them without her permission, we can’t do it. Please, Crocodile,” Buggy raged through the air, until she started to cry, too far away for him to hold.

Buggy was learning how to go empty like she did, and it chilled Crocodile to the bone. He guided his clown to slump onto that green couch again, wanting to take away the pain that kept making that painted face crumple.

“Let me do it, little clown,” he whispered, kissing his temple.

“No, she wouldn’t want…” Buggy’s voice broke. 

Those distant sobs were too much to take. 

“Remember that night you helped me carry our girl out of Adam’s room?”

“Yeah,” he frowned, not sure if he should go along with the distraction. 

“You said you wanted–”

“I am taking care of her,” the clown snarled, pulling away from the comfort his star couldn’t feel. “We shouldn’t watch.”

Crocodile leaned back, resisting his old ways that had earned him nothing but pain and loneliness. 

“Our sweet girl told me something that night, Buggy,” he confessed, watching his clown’s face shift from rage to confusion. “I don’t think she meant to tell me, and she made me promise not to tell anyone.”

“So don’t–”

“I’ll never tell,” he vowed again, and might have smiled at the way Buggy’s head tilted if he didn’t need him to say yes so badly. “But I’m pretty sure I know why Y/N was in that asylum. I’ll watch the recordings, so you don’t have to, and no one else will.”

Crocodile begged now, choking on his old, miserable soul. 

“Please, let me help her too, Buggy. Let me help my sweet girl.”

Buggy stared up at that frightening man, and at the hint of tears that threatened to spill down that scarred face.

He really does love her.

Now Buggy reached for the comfort that his star couldn't feel. He clung to that warmth, squeezing tighter when those hums of surprise and satisfaction vibrated through that massive body.

“Little clown…”

“Protect her,” Buggy gave in, exhaustion nearly stealing his voice. She was still sobbing in his head, still losing her fight to keep her pain inside. 

“Our girl needs you. She needs her Daddy.”

 

~~~🐊🤡🐊🤡~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🐊🐊🐊~~~

 

The ex-Warlord didn’t want to do it in here. He’d helped Y/N fall apart right over there, so beautiful in the dress Mihawk had picked out. Always so beautiful.

But it would take too long to set up another room, and he couldn’t make her wait over his own selfish wish to keep that memory untouched. Even if she never said it back, never felt it, she had opened him up. Crocodile had told his sweet girl that he loved her in this fancy conference room. 

Now he’d locked himself inside that room with two snails, and a bottle of scotch, about to ruin that memory. 

He couldn’t think about it while he waited. Just let the thick smoke of his cigar fill his mouth, the feel of it unable to calm him while he doodled a little bananawani in the corner of his notepad. 

He never got to show her…

“Zala?”

“Yes sir, are–”

“I’m ready. Send the first transmission.”

“Right away, sir. I believe this is the oldest recording. We’ll try to go in order, but it’s a little difficult keeping them all lined up.”

“Just send it.”

 

~~~

~~~⚫️⚫️⚫️~~~

 

Fifteen. She said she was fifteen when he died, so this can’t be too long after that. 

The image was cleaner than it should be. All the care and transfer to young snails must have kept the recording from degrading, even after all these years. 

Y/N’s young face was so clear on the projector screen, so clear that he almost walked to it, until the snail backed away from just her face, showing her at a table, slumped against the wall. Her eyes were almost crossed, staring into nothing. 

Then a voice came.

‘Good morning, Y/N, it’s Dr. Vorsan. Could you repeat your name for me?’

Sick laughter poured from the child’s lips, and Crocodile felt his long-neglected heart breaking more with every second it went on.

‘I don’t need to repeat it. You know it. You all know it.’

‘Everyone here wants to help you, Y/N. We want you to get well.’

‘And I want you to fucking DIE! Haha HA!! That's right, you piece of shit, I’m going to fucking KILL YOU!! You think you can– FUCK YOU, don’t fucking touch me! DONTFUCKINGTOUCHMMMN—‘

Nurses had swarmed her, blocking his view, but not before he noticed the restraints at her wrists. Her skin looked raw, like she’d tried to tear herself free with her nails, tried to tear through her own flesh. 

Crocodile didn’t notice the long lines his hook had already torn into the conference table.

He could see her again, and he memorized every face around her, every hand that held her trapped. One nurse even covered her lips until she bit them, only to let out another vile laugh before she cried.

‘No, please, don’t. Don’t touch me!’

‘It’s okay, Y/N. You’re not well. Just breathe, we’ll help you through this.’

The doctor’s offscreen voice didn’t stop her from snarling and pleading while another nurse stuck her with a needle. 

Y/N’s eyes started to flutter, her rage slowing until she was practically drooling, barely able to hold herself up in the wheelchair they dumped her in. 

‘daddy, please…’

She was so quiet. 

‘why’d you leave me here, daddy?’ 

 

~~~

 

Crocodile stared into nothing when the recording faded out, his ears ringing with a rage that could have drained the whole island of life. 

He couldn’t think. Almost charged through the door to find a fucking boat. Almost destroyed everything in sight.

My girl. My sweet girl.

The scarred man chugged half of the scotch since he knew he’d break the bottle soon, before making the call.

“Hello sir, did the–”

“ Send the next one. ”

 

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

~~~

~⚫~SUMMARY~⚫~

The above scene is from Crocodile’s POV as he watched a recording of the reader. The recording showed the reader at the age of fifteen, not long after her father passed. 

She was restrained at a table, and Dr. Vorsan’s voice came from off screen. He told her that they were trying to help her get well. The reader reacted with unsettling laughter, cursing, and death threats. 

Nurses were shown holding her down while she resisted, and ultimately gave her a shot that made her slump into a wheelchair. She called for her dad softly, asking why he had left her there. 

Crocodile struggled with fury at not being able to help her. He drank, and called Zala to transmit the next recording.

~⚫~SUMMARY~⚫~

 

~~~

~~~🐊🐊🐊~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

“Y/N, what happened? Did he hurt you?”

Kat growled her rage, her fingers digging into your skin while she struggled to pull you onto her lap. 

“N-no, he didn’t,” you coughed, then sobbed, then tried again. “He’s a good p-person.”

“Well, if good people make you cry like this, I’m glad we don’t get a lot of them around here.”

Laughs and sobs. 

And shame.

So fucking selfish. Making her take care of me again. Always about me. Fucking entitled brat, selfish bitch, weak—

“I’m so sorry, Kat,” you begged. Your pathetic sniveling came out muffled as you wrapped your arms around your head, curling in on yourself. 

“Sis, you’re okay. You’re safe. I’m safe. Why do you keep apologizing?”

Her fingers stroked along the side of your face, the parts that weren’t hidden by your shaking arms. Every memory of your failures as a sister filled your throat, threatening to spill and burn the world like lava. 

“I left you.”

Kat blinked slowly. Then frowned that perfect frown before she shook you, shocking your sobs away for a moment. 

“Don’t fucking do this! I’m a full ass adult, sis. I told you I didn’t want to run off with your clown, remember? Hey?”

Her words should have found their way inside, but you had already slipped out of yourself, your body limp, and useless beside her.

Your sister sighed, returning to gentle touches that didn’t feel real. 

“I don’t need you to protect me anymore,” she whispered, somehow reaching that floating part of you as though she knew where your mind had flown. “And if you only came back for that, then I need you to get the fuck out.”

A soft whine hit your throat, your body moving slowly. 

“You really want to be with those pirates,” Kat asked, voice soft and low while she studied your heavy eyes. “I don’t want you here if it’s going to tear you up like this. Maybe we can… I’m not watched like you are. Do you want me to try to call them? If I tell them you want to go back… I don’t know what they could do, but we can try.”

A million years were held inside you now. A million years to make the right choice.

“I’m sorry, Kat, I didn’t want to tell you... You were right. I don’t ever want to see those murderers— those monsters again. I shouldn’t have left. I should have listened to you.”

The best lies were true, but when truth was lost, you had to use what remained. 

You used the agonizing grief of losing your love to sell your tears, and you used every shred of hate you held for that traitor to make yourself believe your own rage.

“Did they hurt you?”

You took too long, letting silence lie for you. 

“I’m going to kill those fuckers. I bet we could hire someone to do it. Let me talk to Uncle—“

“Please don’t, Kat! I don’t want anyone else to know. I just want to forget it, all of it.”

It’s not a lie. It’s not a lie.

“Are you okay,” she asked after staring at you for long enough that you were afraid you'd failed again. Exhaustion fell on you, but you gave a weak smile at her question.

Another Sylvad specialty.

“I’m trying.”

You had missed those narrowed eyes so very much.

“Really, I want to be here, Kitty Kat,” you told the truth, laughing at the instinctual eye roll she gave at the old nickname. “I’m just having a rough time right now.”

“Have you ever not had a rough time? It feels like I’m related to a tragedy sometimes.”

Kat looked so pleased with herself when your jaw dropped, wiggling away from you when your shaky fingers started to poke at her ribs.

“Real nice, sis. Thanks!”

“I am extremely nice,” she deadpanned while she climbed to her feet. “There's a box of cookies in my suite if you want some. I ate like four of them before I came in here, so they should be—“

“ Gimme! ”

“Just don’t eat all of them,” she scolded, laughing as she walked away.

“I would never!”

Your mock outrage made her laugh harder, and then she was gone. That lie of a smile fell from your lips while you stared at the empty space she had just left.

Kat wasn’t there. She doesn’t know. She can’t.

Slipping away… but it was a different kind of lost. No more limp and useless limbs. No more tears unless you needed them to lie for you. You knew what you had to do.

i can pretend for you, kitty kat.

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

Notes:

I've still been disappearing from the world. I've received some very recent help that might make things a bit easier IRL, so I hope I can talk to humans again soon. For now, I'm just so very very grateful for all of you. This story is helping me through some tough shit, and it wouldn't exist without all of the support, encouragement, and inspiration that y'all give me.

I know this one was heavy. I hope that if it hit you hard, you know that you are not alone. Sometimes just seeing pain that looks like ours is a relief, a tiny respite from loneliness. I hope that my words can be that for you, and that we can all get through the tough times with just a little less loneliness. 💜

~

Fic Updates & Extras:
I've included a map below with OP Canon and Numbers Game locations in case y'all would like to see where everybody's at and where the reader's memories occurred. I only included relevant locations and this is definitely not to scale. This map began as my need to ensure that the travel time between Karai Bari, Oak Roots Estate, and then Alabasta and the asylum made sense within the One Piece world.

(Although that world doesn't make sense, lol. I added up just the travel time of the Straw Hats journey between islands, and with no stops it would take approx. 22.5 days to get from Alabasta to Egghead 😅)

I apologize that I don't have the map or the timeline in text format yet. I will be adding that soon since images aren't accessible for everyone. Please let me know if you'd like that so that my adhd brain doesn't forget!!

~

The vast majority of the canon details were compiled by the sweet, glorious, super heroes at the One Piece Wiki, and The Library of Ohara. I would be lost without them!!!! 🙌😭🙏🏼

I'm basing the Numbers Game geography mainly off of This Map by xads181 on Reddit. It is so gorgeous and helpful! 😍 I also referenced This Map from the One Piece Wiki, and This Map from ClayStage.com. I made this map using miro.com.

~

 

Numbers Game Map ~ Chapter 34:

Chapter 35: Lady Luck by My Side

Summary:

Buggy deals with your heavy words, while Crocodile and Mihawk fight for you in their own, desperate ways. You are making the best of your situation, and if you could avoid your uncle's wicked words, you might even end up enjoying yourself. If you're lucky, of course.

Notes:

I have missed y'all so very much, I can't begin to describe 😭💜 I won't get into my disappearing act here, but I'll share some details below the chapter if you're interested, and I'll probably make a life update post about it later on tumblr. Now that I finally have the time, energy, and health, to write again, I just want to write Numbers Game!

~

 

Ch. 34 ~ Recap:

• You struggled with your varied feelings for the hunters that fought for the chance to be your owner, surprised that you didn't hate them all. You discovered that Fukaboshi was a truly good man, who knew that you'd be sending him away soon, and that Katakuri was far sweeter than he looked.
• Mihawk discovered that his little rabbit's plight was being broadcast beyond the Oak Roots Estate, and his rage made him dirty his blade.
• Former member's of Baroque Works, Zala and Marianne, reported back from Dr. Vorsan's asylum. Buggy fought against it at first, but Crocodile begged to watch the encrypted recordings they had found so that he could help his sweet girl. He saw her at fifteen years old, being restrained and drugged in that asylum after her father passed, and he demanded to see the next recording.
• You lied to your sister about your feelings toward the Cross Guild, telling her that they were monsters, and you never wanted to see them again. You wanted to make her happy, so you'd keep up your smile, just like you had for your dad when you were little. You would pretend for her.

~

Dark Content Warning:
Dark Content is bracketed with ~~~⚫️⚫️⚫️~~~ and summaries are bracketed with ~⚫️~SUMMARY~⚫️~ directly below the scenes, so that you won’t miss the story if you need to not be in the BIG FEELS of the scenes. Please take care of yourself, you are not alone! 💜

Also, I hope everyone remembers the tag/warning: Cross Guild Boys are VILLAINS. It’s been here since day one, so 🤷‍♀️

~ 1st ⚫ ~ PLEASE DO NOT READ this section if severe mental illness, episodes, treatment, or neglect could be triggering for you.

~ 2nd ⚫ ~ PLEASE DO NOT READ this section if mental illness treatment, doctors, or panic attacks, might be triggering for you.

I have run out of tag space, so I'll add the random additional content warnings for each chapter here: death of an unnamed character, mental health episodes and treatment, childhood trauma.

~

!!! SPOILER WARNING !!!
Fic currently contains spoilers for up to chapter 1064 or episode 1093. As we get further into Egghead Arc where our lovely boys are showing up more, there will be more spoilers as time goes on. Sorry y'all, I'm trying to keep most spoilers small details, but Cross Guild is endgame, lol.

~

Alternate POV Symbols:
🌲 ~ Reader | 🐊 ~ Crocodile | 🗡 ~ Mihawk | 🤡 ~ Buggy | 🔴 ~ Shanks | ⏰ ~ Flashbacks for listed POV | ⚫ ~ Scenes depicting Dark Content as listed in Author's Notes

Extras:
Numbers Game Tumblr Masterlist
Ongoing Series Playlist ~ YouTube Music Link ~ YouTube Link
Chapter Tunes ~ Luck Be a Lady (Dezio Rezio) ~ The Atomic Beat Ranchers | Feel So Numb ~ Rob Zombie

~~~🐊🐊🐊~~~

 

Had it been hours? Years since he’d started watching? 

There was nothing but the tears in her eyes, nothing but the futile sobs he could do nothing to stop. 

‘Let me see my sister!’

‘Sweetie, you’re not ready yet. You need to get well first.’

 

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

 

‘I’m not sick, mom,’ his sweet girl begged, strapped to a table while her mother stood too far back to comfort her. ‘Just let me see Kitty, please. I need to see her. ‘

‘You need to focus on getting better,’ Delaine’s voice shifted, expertly condescending with a loving tone. 

Crocodile did not fucking like this woman. 

‘Sweetie, do you remember what happened? Do you remember what you did,’ Delaine prodded. Y/N’s face crumpled, sobbing while her worthless mother stood in silence.

‘It was an accident,” the fifteen-year-old girl pleaded while she struggled against her restraints.

‘I found you with that snail, Y/N, and I’m certain you would have killed the poor thing if I hadn’t found you when I did,’ Delaine scolded. Crocodile was going to gut this bitch for making her daughter cry like this. ‘I’m just grateful that it was me, I can’t imagine how your... It’s not your fault, of course. Arbo was always selfish, and now he’s made you sick. I’m sorry, honey, but it’s just not safe for Kathryn to be around you until you get well.’

‘Please, mom. Please listen to me,’ she whimpered, her body going weak, trembling. 

‘Just listen to the doctor, alright? I know you don’t want to hurt anyone, but you’re sick, honey. You need to— ‘

‘I need you to fucking LISTEN! ’

Delaine froze for a moment before turning away, heading toward the door. She walked closer to the cam-snail on her way out, and her eyes looked way too fucking dry. 

Crocodile’s rage-filled thoughts were swept away by that young girl’s screams. 

‘Mom, please, don’t leave me! Don’t let them— ‘

 

~~~⚫️⚫️⚫️~~~

~~~

~⚫️~SUMMARY~⚫️~

 

The scene above is from Crocodile’s POV while he watched a recording of the reader in the asylum when she was fifteen. 

Her mother, Delaine, was present, and the reader stated that she wasn’t sick, and begged to see her little sister. 

Delaine replied that it wasn’t safe for Kathryn to see her until she was well again and asked if the reader recalled what she did to the snail. The reader said that it was an accident, and asked Delaine to listen. 

Delaine stated that she thought the reader would have killed the snail if Delaine hadn’t found her in time, and blamed Arbo’s selfishness for making the reader sick. She denied the reader's request again. 

The reader yelled for her mother to listen, however, Delaine walked out, and Crocodile felt rage for how dry her eyes were. The reader screamed for her mother not to leave her, not to let them– (the last line cut off).

~⚫️~SUMMARY~⚫️~

~~~

 

Y/N’s cries were cut short, the image of her teary face going blurry before the transmission cut out completely. 

Crocodile had already destroyed all the furniture, so he crawled through the debris toward the smaller snail, answering the call before he had time to make it. 

“Sir— “

“Finish the recording,” he threatened. “It wasn’t done, send it again.”

“The white snail passed out, sir,” Zala reported, her voice shaking almost as much as his fist. “I think that was too much for it all at once. It needs time to recover before we can send any more encrypted data.”

Crocodile could hear his teeth grinding together, but he kept still enough to speak a few words.

“Make sure it’s ready tomorrow.”

 

~~~🐊🐊🐊~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

 

Buggy felt somehow empty, and too full at the same time. His mind was too full of those vicious words his star had hissed, too full of fear and guilt over what to do about them. 

“Secrets keep fucking shit up,” the clown murmured, pacing again. 

It was just a lie. Star was lying to her sister.

It had been some damn good acting though, and Buggy hated the doubts it stirred in him. He couldn’t stuff them down. 

I know she loves me, but could she really hate them? I could have sworn she… 

Why ya gotta be such a good actor, baby? 

Or maybe I’m just the selfish piece of shit that didn’t listen. I was too fucking distracted by that shithead. I wasn’t paying attention to you, Star, I just—

He gave a light yelp when the snail interrupted the constant beat of her heart, grateful to be distracted now while he floated toward Crocodile’s desk. 

“Howdy,” Buggy coughed, perking up at the low chuckle that greeted him. 

“Hello, little clown.”

“What’s up, crybaby?”

Mihawk’s voice sent chills across his skin, but all the clown could think about were those hateful words.

Murderers.

Monsters.

“Is that Crocodile,” the swordsman asked after a particularly loud crash echoed down the hall. “I have some news to report.”

“He’s watching…”

“Is he watching the feed?”

Now Mihawk’s voice chilled his blood.

“What feed?”

“I’m handling it,” his new lover tried and failed to soothe him. “Why don’t you two call me in the morning? I need to find a new room for the night anyway.”

“Why do you need— “

“How is she?”

Mihawk’s voice cracked just a bit, his desperation pushing through the relaxed front he’d clearly been holding up. 

“Same. Finally sleeping,” Buggy rasped, clenching his eyes shut at the spike of a headache. “I’m gonna read my notes again, I think she said something…  Crocodile might have something too, so we’ll call you tomorrow.”

…

“Mihawk?”

“You’ll tell me if she’s being hurt?”

“Yeah, I said I would.”

“And you’ll call me if she says she doesn’t want to be there? I don’t care if she whispers it in her sleep, Buggy, I’ll get her out. If she gives even the slightest opening, you’ll call me?”

…

“Bug— “

“Of course I will,” Buggy promised. It wasn’t a lie. 

“Thank you. Get some rest, little clown.”

“You too, crybaby.”

Buggy stared blankly at the snail after the call until the near constant crashing and yelling down the corridor got louder. And closer. 

His feet followed as fast as they could, but the rest of him charged into the banquet hall in time to see the terrifying sight of Sir Crocodile’s rage. The door to the conference room had been ripped off its hinges, and Buggy was caught in the other doorway, the urge to run held back only by the horror of what that frightening man might have seen.

Star… 

Crocodile was alternating between smashing through tables and chairs with his hook, and draining them with his hand, leaving waves of splinters and sand to spill across the gleaming floor.

Until he made it to the head table. 

“Hey boss, you really gonna wreck the best table in this shithole?” 

Buggy had floated his upper body slightly above the other man’s head. He wasn’t stupid enough to put himself in between Crocodile and his fury, no matter how many memories that table held.

The clown almost fell from the air when those frantic, silver eyes met his. 

“Is she still crying?”

“N-no… She’s sleeping.”

Crocodile fell to his knees, the tears on his scarred face slow and unsteady, as though they’d never traveled there before. Buggy brought himself together and did what he knew had to be a stupid thing. 

He hugged the raging man, embracing this villain that had destroyed so much.

“I can’t… can’t leave her there, Buggy,” Crocodile panted into the crook of his neck. He nearly brought the clown to the floor with the amount of weight he rested on him.  

“Don’t worry,” Buggy strained through his hold, “we’ve got her.”

The larger man crushed him against his chest, sucking down his tears before he started to offer comfort instead of taking it. Buggy made a show of accepting that comfort, knowing that he’d never be a better actor than his shining star. 

Can’t tell ‘em. Can’t risk it. 

The image of Crocodile and Mihawk collapsing in defeat at the party after Y/N had thrown her cruel words burned through his mind.  

I know you’re lying, baby. You’re just a good actor. 

Don’t wanna distract these idiots. They don’t know you like I do. 

He tried to let go of his guilt, but those words played on a loop. 

‘I don’t ever want to see those murderers— those monsters again.’

It wasn’t true. 

It was a lie. 

Buggy knew it was a lie.

It was a lie. Right, baby? 

 

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

 

The other men pushed and shoved each other when the scavenger hunt began, but Shanks had to hold himself back from the race. This one wouldn’t win him another date, and close contact with the other suitors had been pushing his self-control to its limit.

He’d always been able to let insults slide when it came to himself, when it was only words, but Shanks couldn’t recall this suffocating feeling.

This entire hunt was an insult, a torture made just for Y/N, and everyone here was having a lovely time using her. 

Shanks could feel himself about to snap, and only his surety that it wouldn’t help her stayed his hand. 

She couldn’t show her own rage, and it would be stupid and selfish to show his.

So, the red haired pirate sat this hunt out, staring at the old man that had weaseled his way beside her.

 

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

What was the theme today? Creating love? Finding my heart? Uncle really should have hired a showrunner for this shit. 

By gods, you were bored. And having “Gibby” at your side was only making your condition worse. 

“These young bucks sure do like to show off,” he teased, leaning his bony shoulder against yours, the scent of whiskey nearly knocking you out. “But I know what a sharp girl like you craves.”

“And what’s that, Gibby,” you flirted. 

It would be so easy to kill him, wouldn’t it? Just a good punch to the throat would probably end this old man. But that would be it. So many eyes… He’s not worth it. 

“A challenge of course,” he announced as though revealing a delightful trick. “You want to use your talents. All these little boys want is a little wife.”

“Oh,” you arched a brow, “and what do you want?”

The creep pinched your cheek. Even with your renewed determination, pretending was fucking rough. 

“I want Lady Luck by my side, of course.”

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~

 

How many… Do lives or liters of blood count for more? Those lives are nothing but—

“Mihawk?”

“I’m here.”

Crocodile’s voice was off. If not for his trained sense of hearing, Mihawk would have believed that voice belonged to someone else. 

But it was him. His daddy. His brutal business partner that was too sweet on their former victims. 

“You go first, crybaby,” Buggy threatened, bringing a tiny smile to the swordsman’s lips. 

“Sylvad’s little game has an illegal broadcast,” Mihawk shared lightly, pretending it was fine. “Underground gambling rings are holding showings every night for an impressive fee. The show appears to be isolated to the surrounding island kingdoms, but that’s probably wishful thinking.”

The silence was torturous for them all, holding nothing but impotent rage. 

Mihawk stretched his neck, removing his hat to keep it from scraping against the dusty walls. He’d found a lovely, little shed to lie in wait in until his prey were all lined up. 

“I’ll be attending a showing tonight, so I should be able to watch the hunt. I’ll study the layout, and hopefully I’ll see something that you aren’t able to hear.”

“So, we’re all spying on her now,” Buggy sighed. The sound was so animated; Mihawk could see those shoulders slumping in his mind. 

He didn’t know when he’d gotten so used to these men in his life. 

“Wait,” he interrupted his own thoughts. “Crocodile, if you weren’t watching the feed last night, what were you watching?”

“He can’t tell us,” Buggy said, his voice gentle, but pained. “Recordings of Y/N at the asylum. Croc’s poky, lady agent, and the scary, little girl nicked them for us. “

Mihawk’s blood froze in his veins as the memory of her flashed in his mind. His rabbit had looked so beautiful that last day. Beautiful, but wrong. 

“Crocodile?”

…

“Can you tell us anything yet, boss? Daddy?”

“Just a kill list,” Crocodile rasped, and Mihawk realized what that tone in his voice was. 

Despair. 

“I haven’t finished watching yet. Just waiting on the snail. She wouldn't want me to hurt the snail…”

“Okie dokie,” Buggy loudly redirected, the sound of awkward pats coming through. “Star said something to her sister when she was crying last night. I think Asshole Charmer was right, she’s trying to protect Kat from something.”

“What did— “

“She said, ‘I left you,” Buggy rushed before either man finished asking, the strain in his voice ramping up. “Then she lied again. Told Kat she wanted to be there.”

“They wouldn’t let her see her sister,” Crocodile breathed, a distance in his words that had nothing to do with the ocean between them. 

“So, we have to find out what Kathryn Sylvad needs protection from,” the swordsman hummed. “When our little rabbit showed us her fangs, she mentioned the Celestial— “

“Kat said Uncle LimpDick can’t sell her anymore though. She’s too old for those creeps.” 

“But Y/N didn’t know that until she got to the estate. If that’s why she left, then we can—” 

Hope had crept into Crocodile’s voice, and it was almost more painful to hear, especially when it was killed so quickly.

“She could have gotten out with the merman yesterday,” Buggy reminded him, his usual frustration seeming muted. Anger was still present, but it was wrapped up in softer, sadder things while he caught Mihawk up on the prince’s offer. “Star’s acting like a fucking martyr.”

“It’s gotta be the doctor. Sylvad said something about the fucking doctor before she left us,” Crocodile trailed off, leaving them all to sink into the memory of that night. “That’s who she fears.”

“Then that’s who dies first.” 

That dusty, little shed became a cage, the monster within him nearly tearing through it at the thought of blood. 

“Wait,” his clown commanded. 

He obeyed. 

“You can’t just run in there and kill everyone on your own now. You have to protect both of them. We need a plan.”

This silence was full of caution, but it held the taste of possibilities. 

The swordsman wanted to sever his own tongue for dashing that new hope so soon. 

“We can’t force them. If her sister wants to keep that stifled life, then Y/N won’t forgive us for ripping her from it.” 

Mihawk sighed, remembering the rage on his darling’s face so clearly. It might be the only face of hers that he’d be worthy of seeing again. 

“So, I’m still our last resort. I’ll take her hate for you, Buggy.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Buggy groaned. “We know more than we did before, so we just need to keep looking. We’re gonna get her back. You got that, shitheads?”

How strange to recognize the sound of a hug. Buggy’s little hum of surprise, followed by a soft sigh that had to be from Crocodile’s lips, hit Mihawk with a wave of heat. The sensation built up in his throat until he shook it off.

Y/N wouldn't be the only thing he’d lose if he stole her away. The World’s Greatest Swordsman would lose this strange, little home he’d found with this strange, little guild.

“You got it, boss,” Mihawk teased. 

“Shut up.”

“Whatever you say, Mr. President,” Crocodile joined in.

The swordsman smiled in that dusty shed, pretending for a moment that this strange, little home he’d found would still be his. 

 

~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

Giberson never shut the fuck up, so you hadn’t caught most of the scavenger hunt, but soon enough, Uncle Cedrick was announcing the winner.

“There are no rules against hunters helping each other win,” he teased while the Vinsmoke brothers walked toward you. Ichiji was carrying a large wooden heart, a few missing pieces of the puzzle held in the losers’ hands, but he held the most. 

Apparently, the younger brothers had given their pieces to the oldest prince, flanking him as they all knelt before you. 

“I’m looking forward to showering you with many more gifts,” he smirked, smoothing his fingers over yours when he placed that wooden heart in your lap. “Gifts worthy of a princess.”

Cheesy. Cocky. His brothers’ lecherous stares weren’t helping.

But I might as well enjoy it, you thought, gifting him with a coy smile.

 

~~~

 

This opulent room had always been too ridiculously large to be the family game room, especially since you’d only play with your dad, or your sister, never both. Dad always had some work to take care of when Kat asked to play, and Mom never liked board games.

At least someone’s still playing games in here. 

“Come here, sugar,” Giberson pulled you along, looking healthier than you’d seen him so far. “You ever played Blackjack?”

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🐊🐊🐊⏰~~~

 

“Hit me.”

“Is that an order, sir?”

Crocodile chuckled, feeling loose for a rare moment while he smirked at the woman across the table. Rain Dinners was as vibrant as ever, a stolen oasis that he planned to grow. The casino pulsed with greed, but a quiet air seemed to fall over the two of them.

“No orders at the table, sweetheart. You know that.”

Fuck. 

This woman’s silence always held an itching weight, that little smile making him narrow his eyes. He was the one that had slipped up. No time for that. 

Not until his work was done. 

“Hm, it looks like a bust for both of us, sir. I hope your orders don’t land us in a similar position,” she taunted in that airy voice of hers, as though her thoughts were merely floating through space, drifting by with no fault of her own. Yet her eyes sparkled.

Crocodile ignored how much he liked it when they did that. 

“Have a little faith, Miss All Sunday,” he grinned, the noise of the casino drowned out by her soft chuckle, her haunted eyes filling with a hard edge, a challenge. “Don’t you trust me? We’re gonna build a better world together.”

Her soft chuckle turned to outright laughter, the pretty sound bringing more eyes to their elevated table. That beautiful face tilted back, and the brim of her white hat shifted enough to let the glittering lights touch her skin. 

He paused to watch her, knowing that he was distracted. Knowing that she was an agent, that he couldn’t risk losing his balance until he’d met his goal. 

This girl is nothing but an asset. That’s all anyone is until I’m done. 

“Come, Crocodile, you and I both know that trust can be a fatal mistake. I know you didn’t bring me here for false promises, and I would leave if I thought you’d become such a sentimental fool.”

Soft hands sprouted from the table before him, lighting his cigar, and holding it to his lips while he gave a few gentle puffs. Those taunting eyes never strayed from his.

“You know me too well,” he laughed, taking a larger sip of scotch than he’d meant to. This asset of his had many uses, and interesting company was becoming too much of a favorite. “What kind of world do you wanna build when we get there?”

The way she stared at him… It was as though she was right there, seeing deep into the core of him, yet somehow distant. No matter how much time she spent by his side, they were always light years apart. 

“Are you feeling sentimental, boss?”

“Not at all,” Crocodile snorted before downing the rest of his drink. He motioned for another round but couldn’t shake off the sticky feeling of her knowing gaze. 

She’s right. What the fuck am I doing? Can’t think like this. Not yet. 

Nico Robin smirked while her many hands gathered the cards, dealing a fresh game. Crocodile found himself feeling proud of her practiced distance, but had to fight harder than he should have to keep from tugging at it. 

Trust is worthless in a world like this. 

“Well, boss?”

“Hit me.”

So, I’ll make a better world. 

 

~~~⏰🐊🐊🐊⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

Everything was shining. Unlike most casinos, the shine in your family’s estate wasn’t just for show. 

It was another world. The glamor, the music, and the liquor seemed to hypnotize the crowd. Time was a commodity here, seconds falling away like the chips on the table. 

You might have been drawn in if you hadn’t been squeezed into this slinky, sequined dress. Viridian green sparkled under the lights, and it wasn’t as uncomfortable as you’d thought it would be. Still fucking distracting though. 

I wonder what his casino was like. Would he have liked this dress? He did prefer scales over—

Stop.

You almost asked why Giberson had foregone his private date for this public display but decided not to risk giving him the opening to take you somewhere else. He dragged a velvet covered stool close beside him before wrapping his frail arm around your shoulders, pulling you as close to his side as possible. 

Your smile stayed pretty under the golden lights, even as the sounds of the small casino bombarded you. All the hunters, and more guests than you’d seen here before, watched your every move when they weren’t losing berry. 

“What’d ya say, darlin,” he winked, nodding toward the cards on the table. “Should I risk it?”

At least there’s something for me to focus on. 

“Hit me,” he declared when you nodded, whistling and jostling you when he hit twenty one. “I knew I had a good feeling about you.”

“Is this why you’re here, Gibby? I’m sure you realize that my husband won’t need to gamble to be swimming in berry.”

Those words should not have left your lips. You didn’t need the nearest cam-snail’s drooping eyes to tell you that, but you couldn’t take it back. Playing up the flirtation was all you could think of to salvage it. 

The old man raised a brow at you, chuckling at your fluttering lashes.

“You are a sweet, devilish thing, aren’t you, dear?”

Your denial died on your tongue when your eyes got caught across the room, your red-haired prey staring hard at the hand Giberson had brought to your chin. 

This old man deserved your gratitude for tilting your face away from those soft, brown eyes. 

“I am many things, Gibby,” you purred. “And I am sure that you should stand.”

“I’ve gotta listen to my Lady Luck,” he laughed, wiggling your shoulders to show you off to the leeches at the table. 

“Isn’t that cheating,” one of them mumbled, earning a sickly, sweet smile from your lips. 

“All is fair in love and war,” you teased, tapping the felt-covered table with one of Giberson’s many chips. “Besides, card counters have to watch a game for longer than I’ve been at the table. It was just a lucky guess.”

Oh, how you ached to smash that entitled asshole’s face onto the shining table.

“You’re one to talk, Linus,” Giberson leaned around you to smirk at the man. The scent of liquor on his breath hit you like a train. “I believe you’re on mistress number three, aren’t you? Or what should we call this newest one, a boy toy? I suppose if Annie knows, then it’s not cheating, but either way, I’m sure she knows now.”

Linus’ face went from annoyance to horror impressively fast when he glanced at the very not-droopy snail on the table, and you bit your lip to keep from laughing. 

The man snarled, barely shifting toward you before Uncle’s security guards snatched him away. 

“Poor Linus,” you sighed while you shook your head. The satisfaction that warmed your skin only proved your self-hating thoughts, but it was more entertaining than being empty. 

Everyone here is a leech. Gorging on my blood and humiliation, eating me alive so they can feel more alive for a while. Fuck them all.

“Don’t worry about him,” your date pulled you back toward the game, “Annie’s been sleeping with his mother since their wedding night, so I’m sure she won’t be too broken up over it.”

You laughed enough that when he bought a bottle and poured you both a shot, you drank the burning whiskey. 

After he drank his first, of course. 

Then you won him lots of berry and giggled while he whispered secrets about all those shining guests in your ear. 

Maybe this old man isn’t so boring after all.

Laughing, and winning, and numbing it all down felt so good. If only you could rid yourself of those stupid, brown eyes that stuck to you more than the old man’s weak hand on your sequined thigh. 

“Do you know anything about— “

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Giberson hummed, filling your glass again. He nodded toward the red-haired pirate in the corner before shaking his head. “Afraid I can’t talk about the competition. I’d like to survive long enough to see the end of this delightful game.”

 

~~~

 

The corridors were endless. You’d traveled them so many times as a kid, but never quite like this.

Never drunk, in stupid, pointy heels that got caught in the plush carpet, while annoying servants tried to grab your elbows every time you swayed. 

It was fine. 

It was stupid.

But you weren’t even mad at yourself for being so reckless. Apathy could save or ruin you in a place like this. 

All you wanted was to feel nothing. There were many kinds of numb to find, but this particular buzz was wearing off too fast.

You had kept up your smile, and the bells had rung before you lost your mind to liquor. Yet now that the wall of eyes wasn’t on you, that liquor felt thick in your veins, and you needed to scream. 

“Don’t fucking touch me!”

“I’m sorry, Miss Sylvad, but— “

“I’ll take it from here. We wouldn’t want any more accidents now, would we, niece?”

You blinked, and the staff had already scurried away, leaving you alone with him.

“My little smarty,” Uncle Cedrick teased, digging his fingers into your arm while he guided you toward your suite. “Finally contributing to the family, after all these years. You almost had me believing that you’d like to marry that old bastard.”

“It’s too early to tell.”

Damn it…

A different kind of numb pulled you down while your gaze trailed down his face. 

His jaw is moving a lot. It’s okay. No, not the lips. Jaw. Eyes are too much. Can’t look up. Just down. Can’t look away. 

Fuck, I’m dizzy.

“He was never in the running anyway. The nuisance learned about the hunt and asked to join, and I couldn’t risk insulting the man.”

All the words were hitting your wobbly brain, a headache building behind your brow until you gasped at his sudden touch. Your uncle gripped your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze in the darkened hallway. 

“You’re going to send the old man away tomorrow, and the fishman the day after that. You may be a selfish brat, but you’re still a Sylvad. It wouldn’t do to let you get stuffed full of expired seed, or guppies, now, would it?”

His eyes flared with satisfaction when you couldn’t hide the horror and disgust that twisted your features. You were trapped, gulping down your bile while he leaned over you, gripping tighter. 

“Keep up the good work, niece,” Uncle hummed while he tilted you toward your door. “Now go wash up. Whiskey isn’t a flattering scent on a blushing bride.”

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🐊🐊🐊~~~

 

There was no point in fixing the conference room. Any replacement furniture would have been shattered the second he saw those tear-filled eyes on the screen. 

A makeshift door had been propped up for privacy, although there was no one but Buggy within range of Crocodile’s rage. 

That pathetic, useless rage that left the scarred man sitting on the floor in a pile of splinters and sand again, fighting not to drink. Not yet, at least. 

“Good evening, sir.”

“Is it ready,” Crocodile rasped, not ready for the answer.

“I believe so, sir,” Zala reported, her lovely voice too somber to be soothing. “The next cam-snail’s date is a bit smudged, so I’m not certain the timing is right. We’re trying to send them in order— “

“Just send it.”

…

“Agent?”

“Of course, sir,” the deadly woman breathed, strangely soft through the line. “Do you have orders for us when we arrive? We still have over a week, but it could be two days less if we— “

“Await your orders,” Crocodile growled, more at his own powerlessness than her questioning.

“Of course,” Zala conceded, sharing her next words in a rush before ending the call. “We’ll get her back, sir. I won’t fail again.”

 

~~~

 

For a cruel moment, Crocodile’s breath caught in hope. His sweet girl looked better. 

He should have known better. 

‘How are you feeling today, Y/N?’

 

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

 

‘I’m feeling well, thank you, doctor,’ she hummed softly, keeping her eyes low, although the doctor was still offscreen. A nurse guided her to sit, no restraints holding her to the table this time. 

‘Are you ready to begin?’

‘Yes, doctor.’

His girl was empty. Poised and polite with nothing inside. 

They made a doll out of her.

‘Just breathe, Y/N,’ Dr. Vorsan instructed, his slippery voice making Crocodile’s fingers twitch. ‘The snail won’t hurt you, and you aren’t going to hurt it.’

‘Of course, I won’t–’

‘Soft hands, Y/N,’ he warned while she unclenched her jaw and fists. 

A transponder snail was placed on the table before her, and her eyes went slow and droopy while she stared at it. 

‘We discussed this, Y/N.’ The doctor clicked his tongue while the nurse reached for the snail. Y/N shook herself but stopped before her hand got too close to the creature.

Her eyes were wide now, her panicked breaths loud enough for him to hear all these years later. 

‘I’m sorry, please,’ Y/N strained, going empty again while she pleaded. ‘I’m okay. I want to call my sister.’

‘Are you sure you’re ready,’ Vorsan needled. That voice was so perfectly kind, yet violent. It was a syringe that promised healing, but forced too much, poisoning with what seemed like a cure. ‘Take your time, Y/N. If you push yourself too far, you might have another episode, and I know you don’t want to put your family through that. You don’t want to hurt–’

‘I want to be well, doctor.’

Wrong. So, fucking wrong. 

‘Please, let me try again,’ Y/N begged, her sweet voice placating the monster out of view. ‘I’ll breathe and go slow. I want to get better.’

The nurse brought the snail back, and Crocodile couldn’t tell how much time passed while she stared at it. Her eyes were present, yet he could see the strain, her almost-smile shaking a bit. 

“What the fuck?”

The fucking snail had started ringing, and Y/N’s scream made him choke. She struggled to swallow it down, rocking in her seat until the nurse reached out to take it. She took in a breath when she reached out instead to answer, that sickening smile on her face. 

‘Hey, smarty.’

Crocodile’s hook dug deep lines along the floor. 

‘I heard you were practicing with the snail today, so I thought I’d help out. We all want you back home, safe and sound. Although, I suppose it’s not your safety we should be worrying about.’

If not for the slow shine of unspilled tears that grew in her eyes, Crocodile would have thought the recording had paused. She was frozen, until she flinched at his next words. 

‘I should probably check on little Kathryn. I told them not to sail this close to Aqua Laguna, but you know how stubborn–’

‘You’re lying,’ she screamed, spittle flying toward the snail before nurses appeared to restrain her. ‘Let me talk to my sister!’

‘Oh dear, you don’t sound very well, niece. I hope–’

‘Fuck you! Where’s Kat? Let me see my– Get your fucking hands off of me! I’m gonna kill…’

Cedrick Sylvad’s laughter creeped through the air, the transponder snail carrying that vile sound through space and time. 

Y/N had gone still, letting the nurses entangle their arms with hers, trapping her between them while they called nonsensical orders to each other in bland voices. 

She didn’t cry. 

Didn’t apologize. 

Didn’t fight. 

She looked like she’d been defeated, and Sylvad’s gloating laughter proved the point. 

‘I hope you get well soon, niece,” her uncle taunted. ‘I’ll tell your sister you’re not ready yet, once she gets back. Hopefully she makes it before the storm hits.’

Crocodile’s sweet girl slumped, her body going limp while so many others held her up. Cedrick Sylvad’s laughter ripped through the air until she was carted away, and the wall went dark. 

 

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

~~~

~⚫~SUMMARY~⚫~

The scene above was from Crocodile’s POV as he watched another recording of Y/N at the asylum. During this recording, Crocodile noticed that the reader appeared to be “better.” However, the prodding voice of Dr. Vorsan, and the reveal of a transponder snail showed that the reader was struggling to maintain her “doll-like” emptiness. The reader expressed a desire to speak with her sister, and was cooperating with the doctor, although he scolded her and reminded her of the potential violence she may cause. The reader remained calm and requested to try speaking with the snail again. The snail rang unexpectedly, and her uncle began to speak through it, causing the reader to become afraid, then react violently when Cedrick stated that her sister was currently sailing close to the time of the Aqua Laguna storm. The reader began to yell and threaten violence, until she looked defeated while her uncle laughed. The reader went limp while nurses restrained her and carried her away before the recording ended. 

~⚫~SUMMARY~⚫~

 

~~~🐊🐊🐊~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

“Leave her alone, Uncle,” Kat seethed, charging into the hall to pull you from his grasp. 

“I’m just making sure she gets home safe,” he teased, clicking his tongue before releasing you. “Looks like big sis needs your help tonight. Aren’t you relieved that you won’t have to be her babysitter for much longer?”

“Fuck you— “

“It’s alright, Kitty,” you smiled, fighting your shaking muscles, and the nausea that flooded your body. “You got any snacks in your suite?”

“Ta-ta,” Uncle Cedrick smirked, thankfully walking away. 

Leaving you with her.

Fuck. I’m making her take care of me again. Selfish. Piece of shit. Stop.

“What kind of snacks do you want,” Kat frowned. Her eyes were sharp against your swaying form, but you held up your smile for her. 

“Salty. Crunchy.”

“Alright, drunky,” she rolled her eyes, “will you drink some fucking water first?”

 

~~~

 

Gods, it’s bright. Smile. Don’t forget to smile.

“Are you feeling well, niece?”

Uncle Cedrick beamed down at you, guiding you to the fallen tree in the courtyard, where the applause that greeted you made you want to chop your fucking ears off. The ungodly amount of coffee you’d inhaled during the breakfast with Giberson had been for naught, and you couldn’t recall any of the long winded stories he’d trampled you with. 

There’d be no more of his stories for you after this.

“Good afternoon, fine friends and hunters,” he addressed the crowd, and the suitors lined up along the carved bench. His practiced movements spread large across the side of the manor for all to see. You caught him glancing at his image on the projector screen enough times that you almost laughed. 

It probably would have hurt to laugh right now. 

“Before today’s hunt begins, I’m afraid that one of our contestants has missed the mark.”

Uncle pulled an arrow from the quiver at his back. He pressed the point of it to your chest, making the leeches gasp with mock fear or delight before he broke it in half.

“Go on, dear niece,” he ordered, pressing the splintered wood into your hand. “Who failed to pierce your heart?”

Don’t let it in. Nothing matters. Just her.

Fading into yourself, you put on a show, avoiding the sight of your simpering smile on the wall. Tittering noises filled the air while the wooden platform moved you from suitor to suitor, and you could hear the vultures calling out their last-minute bets.

You put on a good show, but eyes were too much. An inch below their left eye. That’s where you’d look while you paused. 

No favorites. No least favorites.

The moving platform wasn’t helping your nausea, or it might have been the scent of the Emperor whose crooked smile was almost as abhorrent to look at as his soft eyes. 

The painfully slow display finally came to a halt, the stench of whiskey still too fresh in your mind. 

The old man hadn’t been that bad though. 

“I’m sorry, Gibby. Your arrow didn’t pierce my heart.”

He took the broken arrow, before kissing your forehead, his mustache scratching along your skin. 

“Not to worry, my dear,” Giberson soothed, humming at the noises of the winners and losers in the crowd. From the sound of it, he’d been an underdog in the race anyway. “I feel lucky just to be here at all. Thank you for the lovely company.”

You needed to sit down. 

You had to keep smiling.

“Of course, Gibby,” your uncle shmoozed, gripping Giberson by the shoulder. He appeared to be speaking to the failed hunter, but his voice was too clear, his words too pointed.

Another part of the show.

“You may not be in the running to be our family, but you wouldn’t be here if you weren’t a friend of the Sylvad’s,” Uncle Cedrick glowed as the leeches practically moaned at the implication. Everyone wanted to be in his world. “You are more than welcome to stay for the festivities as a guest, so long as you don’t act like a sore loser and ruin the fun, of course.”

The joviality in the air was too full of greed. Your future was never going to be yours, but you hadn't expected him to let so many others join in his game. 

This game that never fucking stopped.

“Our lovely doe has requested a show of love for today’s hunt,” he took your hand and spun you for the crowd, grabbing you by the waist to keep you from tripping over yourself. “Run along, hunters. In the woods you’ll find materials of all sorts, but you’re welcome to use your own. Create something to show how you’ll care for your dear wife once you catch her. Care to give them any tips, Y/N?”

Fuck you.

“The man I love will make me smile.”

Uncle Cedrick caught his frown before it fully formed, but your tiny rebellion went cold when his eyes flicked to the locket you were fidgeting with. 

“You heard the doe, hunters,” he ordered, studying your shaky hands that you dropped to your sides too fast. “Make your prey smile before you pierce her heart.”

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🐊🐊🐊⏰~~~

 

He shouldn’t have been dropping his guard like this, but something about this room, this ridiculous, green couch, and that sweet girl’s flustered face, had Sir Crocodile fighting off a smile.

“But… I’ve still got work to do, and they— “

“Is my sweet girl worried about other men right now,” he threatened, patting the cushion beside him while he tried to keep his balance. 

The clown was off preparing for that gods awful show they’d have to sit through at the party, while the swordsman ran through security. Since Crocodile had already sent agents out to hunt for party favors, he had a free moment, and he chose to spend it taunting their numbers girl. 

She looked so pretty with that flash of fear in her eyes.

Especially when she gave in so quickly. 

“N-no, I…”

“You’ve been working so hard. I can help you relax. Wanna take a break, sweetheart?”

Y/N bit her lip softly, and Crocodile nearly launched himself at her. Patience wasn’t one of his virtues, but luckily his numbers girl got to her feet. 

“Not so fast, darlin,” he teased while she yelped in his grasp, moving through sand to carry her before she could take a step with her bare feet.

“Fuck!”

She looked so cute when he tossed her onto his desk. Y/N was shaking so much that he almost stopped, his fingers clenching against the wooden desk while he took a final puff of his cigar. The feel of smoke on his tongue only made him crave her more.

“Well, sweetheart, you’re not scared to be alone with me, are— “

“I want you, daddy,” Y/N vowed, her voice like some heavenly song, guiding him toward things he didn’t deserve. She sat up, reaching, clinging to him until he chuckled and pushed her soft fingers away. She’d tugged at his silk scarf, and he let her keep the purple fabric when he shoved her back onto the desk. 

“Are you gonna be a good girl, and relax for me,” he taunted. Crocodile stamped out his cigar before kneeling beside his desk, fighting his smile again at every desperate noise she made while he set her legs up on his shoulders. She nodded fast while he tore through her cheap panties with his hook, and her scent finally did him in. 

This ex-warlord, this wicked pirate, this bad man… was smiling. Smiling from pleasure and peace instead of cruelty and greed.

Sir Crocodile caught his smile as he pressed it against that sweet, swollen flesh, loving the way she tore at his hair. Her fingers went rough, then weak, again and again, as though she couldn’t help her need, but feared his reaction. 

“Let go, sweetheart. Let Daddy have it all,” he purred before shoving his tongue so deep. He moaned while he drank at her pleasure, proud of how she took what she needed, pulling his hair at the roots while she fell apart. 

“You’re doing so well,” Crocodile praised, fighting everything in him not to claim this sweet girl for himself, his own little dream. 

“Please, daddy.”

“My little girl’s so hungry,” he laughed while his fingers teased along all the wetness she spread before him. “You can have everything you want.”

Y/N had pushed onto her elbows to meet his eyes, but fell back, her body arching when he shoved two fingers into her pretty cunt. Her moans were so fucking precious that the ex-warlord’s mind went blank. Nothing but her.

“It’s still work hours, sugar. Try to keep it down.”

Fuck, she was gorgeous when her eyes rolled back, eagerly letting him shove that purple silk into her mouth. She was already crying when he undid his slacks, freeing himself to tease along that needy flesh.

Crocodile missed, pouring lube down the side of the desk before covering his leaking cock. She was too good of a girl for him to rush this, but the feel of his own lubed hand was nearly enough while he watched her begging beneath him.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he guided her while he held himself back. “You can take it, can’t you?”

He tried to be gentle, but Y/N still cried and screamed, so he fucked himself into her until his scarf fell from her lips.

“It’s too— feels too good— fuck!!”

She spoke the truth until he shoved the silk back into her mouth. It felt too fucking good to fill her up, to feel her body stretching and fighting to hold him. So soft, so wet, so fucking tight around his cock with every thrust.

But she could take him. She could take all of him, and she looked beautifully wrecked while she did, that silk scarf dark with spit now when he tugged it from her lips again. 

“Where does my sweet girl— “

“Inside me, daddy,” Y/N cried out before her body milked his again, eyes going white while she came. “Come inside me, please!”

“Fuck, you take me so well, baby girl. Mm— so fucking perfect…”

Crocodile held her down, pressing his palm against her chest. He hadn’t realized that his hook had been tracing along her side until he started filling her, but she looked like she was enjoying it, so he didn’t bother to stop. 

She looked like she was enjoying getting fucked by a monster.

She looked so sweet when he met her eyes, pulling out slowly to keep from causing more harm. 

“Daddy…”

“Hey, sweet girl,” he hummed while he kissed her neck. Her squirms were enough, and he felt his scarred face smiling against her skin once more. “How— “

“You could have just said you wanted her to yourself for a while,” the swordsman taunted from the doorway that had opened too quietly. 

Or maybe Crocodile had let himself get too distracted. 

“I thought you didn’t like liars,” Mihawk smirked, moving close enough to snag the spit-soaked scarf from the desk. 

“We got some work done,” Crocodile told the truth, although it felt like a lie when he looked down at her. “My sweet girl just needed a break.”

 

~~~⏰🐊🐊🐊⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~

 

Their faces were easy to match up with the voices he’d planned to end while he listened in that dusty shed. This drab, little hole had been shined up so brightly, almost passing for a real casino, but Mihawk knew it could still use a fresh coat of red paint. 

“I suppose that only imbeciles would fail to recognize me when I walk through the door. I had assumed that was what all of you were, given your foolish choice in hobbies.”

“Hawkeye— Mr. Mihawk, sir, please,” the owner of the stale, little hall beckoned him toward the sticky, corner booth, “you’re an honored guest! Please, relax, and let us show you how we party in Majiastuka.”

The slim possibility of those words swaying the ex-warlord burned away when faraway voices filled the air.

‘You’re our little princess now.’

Their deaths would come later. For now, Mihawk kept his gaze away from the projector screen, and the flustered face of his little rabbit. 

“What a delightful invitation,” the world’s greatest swordsman sneered, drawing his black blade to hover over the filthy floorboards. “Unfortunately, I have already had my fill of your wretched squeals. Unless you can tell me how to reach Miss Sylvad, your worthless time on this planet is over.”

“Fuck thi— “

A coward off to the side stumbled while he cursed, fleeing toward the door. Mihawk didn’t even need to shift his eyes in that direction; Yoru simply flicked across the floor, the blade smacking into a chair that cracked the man’s neck when it hit.

Every movement, every breath was precise. 

A predator, and its prey.

“Hey man, I’m sorry, okay,” the pathetic kingpin begged while the ex-warlord stalked closer. “How can I help? Anything, please!”

“Such a well-mannered beast,” Mihawk growled while he dug his nails into the man’s jaw. “I’m taking your special snail, and I shall take your life if you don’t tell me where the fuck you got it from.”

 

~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

This might be the worst idea you’d ever had. 

“It’s a…”

“Graham cracker house. They’re usually gingerbread, but no one likes to eat that shit.”

Cracker beamed down at you, so proud of the sloppy, edible house that he’d dropped onto your lap. 

“That’s you,” he pointed toward the misshapen figure by the front door. “I know that you’re a good girl that wants to help your family. I’ll help you be happy and safe, and you’ll help our family grow.”

Oh. 

The misshapen clump finally took shape in your mind; that fucked up cracker was meant to be you. 

Barefoot and pregnant.

This is super fucking fun.

“Thank you, Cracker. It’s lovely.”

“It’s trash,” Cracker corrected with that menacing grin, and you almost yelped when he touched your face. You had to meet his eyes, and that basic, human intimacy, coupled with the scent of that sugary house, nearly had you spilling your disgust onto the floor. 

Nausea had you in a chokehold, but that didn’t stop your smile. 

This ridiculous man leaned down, and the sparks at the ends of his hair were too fucking close to your face when he purred in your ear.

“You’re the only lovely thing I see.”

 

~~~

 

How strange that the sight of such a light and precious thing could drag you down so far. 

In the place of a pearl, the shell opened to show a long-lasting bubble. The treasure had become a reminder of your selfishness and privilege, yet your heart still ached at the sight. 

Precious trees had helped create this little magic. Sabaody should have been treasured, protected.

Instead, it was hell: a humiliating torture for people that didn’t look like you. 

“It’s beautiful, Prince Fukaboshi,” you sighed. “Thank you.”

“It is nowhere near as beautiful as your selfless heart.”

Smiling was harder when you had to swallow the burning bile on the back of your tongue.

 

~~~

 

“This is very nice,” you lied.

“It’s a poor rendition,” your prey laughed at his ugly drawing of what looked like a pile of fingers until you deciphered the shapes. “Starfish cling to their world, holding tight to their home… I could have stolen it for you, but it’s not right to take a star from where it belongs.”

“So, you left my star all alone,” you managed to pout; you were a selfish, spoiled, rich girl. 

Starfish were apparently too much for you to handle. 

 

~~~

 

“What do ya think, numbers girl?”

That deep voice made you shiver, shaking you out of your fog, but into the chaos of old desire. 

You knew you should hate him. You should be disgusted by his mere presence here, by all the details that would make your eyebrows raise if you heard them about a similar relationship. 

But you were too far gone to give a fuck. 

Mr. Iceburg was smiling at you. He was reaching out to rest his hand on yours before offering a gift he’d made with those same, lovely hands. The rough skin scraping against yours seemed to send you back in time, a teenage craving, still unfulfilled.  

“There wasn’t enough time, but I hope you like it,” Iceburg hummed when he placed a small, carved ship in your palm. The rough wood smelled incredible, and it was beautiful, rough as it was. 

All the details were vague, but your thumb traced across the redwood he’d carved onto the main sail. 

It wasn’t just his looks that had stolen your heart when you were younger. Mr. Iceburg had an air of kindness and wonderment about him that reminded you what those feelings could be like. 

Were you too far gone to feel that light? 

Was he too much of a leech for it to be real?

Who fucking cares? It’s Mr. Iceburg .

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

 

“So, you left my star all alone?”

Y/N’s pouting lips were too much; Shanks was horrified by her ability to lie with every part of her. 

“Well, I…”

That fallen star smiled while the bells called him away, and she chose another man, yet again.

 

~~~

 

The Great Red-Haired Shanks was fucking useless. 

He had fucked up so completely that his every step to fix things put miles and miles between them.

And he couldn’t fucking talk about it. 

The estate was literally crawling with snails, so Shanks couldn’t risk speaking openly to his first mate. He couldn’t relax for a second with how hyper aware he’d become of the low hum of their presence. 

How the fuck does she live like this?

Throughout the pain and hardships of his own life, this Emperor of the Sea had carried something with him that he was lacking here, and the discomfort of its loss felt like another phantom pain, an unreachable itch. 

Shanks was raised as a pirate.

He was raised to be free. 

No one was free on this wretched island, except for the tyrant that toyed with them all. 

Cedrick Sylvad hadn’t joined the group that flocked to his little casino for a second night. He didn’t need the cash. 

The red-haired pirate followed the leeches and did his best to shove his frustrations aside while he fought for her. 

“Still here, huh?”

“Why would I leave,” Giberson breathed noxious fumes into his face while he leaned over his cards. “This game’s only just begun.”

 

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

Kat’s face pulled you into the moment, her quivering lips failing to hold back her disparaging smile.

You couldn’t blame her. 

“That’s a really nice cape,” she snorted, falling into laughter.

“I thought you wanted me to marry a Vinsmoke.” Your words were strained, although annoyance or laughter could have been the cause.

“Totally,” she managed to deadpan. “Definitely the number one choice.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

It was so good to see her cackle, even if you had to wear this poofy, frilly, fire-engine red gown to make it happen. 

The cape wasn’t nearly as bad as the embroidered “ones” along the hems. 

“I want you to marry one of them if…”

“Spit it out,” you ordered, holding in your own laughs while Kat fell apart. 

“If they’re your number one choice,” she squeaked again while she steadied herself with a hand on her thigh. 

You couldn’t blame her. Not with the state your hair was in. 

 

~~~

 

“Tonight, we have lifted one of our rules for the sake of fairness to our esteemed hunters,” Uncle charmed the crowd, his fingers resting on the back of your neck. 

He looked down at you with that practiced mask of a doting uncle while he gripped your skin like you were an unruly animal that he had to control.

“My dear niece must remain within the borders of the island, but the sky’s the limit now.”

He stepped away with a smirk, and you were too drained from smiling to care what he meant. It was always a game at your expense. You were just glad that he wasn’t touching you anymore. 

Resisting the urge to scratch his eyes out like the unruly animal you were took a lot of energy, and you were going to need it tonight. 

The vultures were practically squealing while Prince Ichiji walked up the path, flanked on either side by his brothers. The ruffles on their shirts looked natural on them, and their capes just reminded you that they were royalty, even if they descended from vicious conquerors who claimed that status. From all you’d gathered, these current Vinsmokes seem to carry that violent legacy.

Except for when they looked at you. 

Ichiji held out the longest, but soon the three of them were staring at you like hungry puppies. Niji and Yonji knelt at your sides to kiss your hands, thoroughly. Ichiji leaned down, the swoops in his red hair casting distracting shadows across his face beneath the lanterns. 

“Everyone’s fighting to take home the lovely prize,” he breathed against your ear before he pulled back to meet your eyes. “But they can’t have you.”

“Oh,” you tried to tease, but the kisses still peppering your hands and fingers were too distracting. “Why is that?”

The three of them laughed, and you would have fallen if they hadn’t gripped your hands in time. The three princes had all touched their belts, and the colorful raid suits they were so famous for spread over them instantly, to roaring applause. You hadn’t had time to catch your breath before Ichiji lifted you into his arms.

“You’re our little princess now.”

Don’t scream. Don’t scream. Don’t scream.

“Don’t be scared, pretty,” he comforted, though his pleased voice didn’t stop the world from disappearing beneath you. 

“Yeah, I’ll catch you if he drops you,” Yonji flew close to your cheek. 

“I won’t drop her.”

How does their hair stay like that in the wind, you thought, giggling to yourself while you watched the trees beneath you. 

“Can I touch the top of a tree?”

“You can touch anything you– ”

“Back off, Niji,” Ichiji growled at his blue haired brother that had flown too close this time before returning to that simpering voice. “Of course, princess. We can find every tree on the island, if you like.”

“Just one is lovely, thank you.”

Touching the top of a redwood tree had never crossed your mind, but the feel of it against your fingers gave you a moment of sweetness at the thought of telling your dad about it. He would be so excited, and he’d want to know every detail, until you both were scribbling on notepads to calculate how long it would take to touch every tree on the island. 

It was stupid. How could you stay numb when you kept reminding yourself of pain, or of something far crueler than that? 

Happiness and love would tear you apart. 

 

~~~

 

If you weren’t out of breath, you might have giggled again at how well the scene fit with your last thought. 

Another clearing on another stolen hill had come into view, during one of the brief glances you’d sent toward the ground. That ground was coming too close, too fast, but the scent hit you before your feet touched the ground.

Someone had planted a circular wall of roses that was taller than you’d thought possible for the flower. You had learned that the realm of possibility was vaster than you could imagine. What were some huge rose bushes compared to everything else in your world?

Ichiji set you down beside a gorgeous table of dark wood, with large, cushioned chairs in that matching rose-red.

He poured champagne, toasting to your beauty while you waited for him to sip first.

“Are you nervous,” the red head asked, the hint of laughter in his tone. “Don’t worry, princess, you can relax here. I made sure we’d have plenty of privacy.”

“Yeah,” Yonji called while he flew down into the tower of roses. “No one’s getting in here without catching some thorns.”

“We finished the rounds,” Niji reported. He stayed floating toward the top, lazily bouncing something in his hand. “This is the only snail left in a mile radius. Now you two can have some alone time.

“DON’T HURT IT! Please… don’t…”

Niji paused with his arm pulled back, stopping before throwing the transponder snail, cocking his head as he looked down at you.

“Don’t be so cruel, brother,” Ichiji purred beside you.

Breathe. Just breathe.

“Please, don’t hurt it,” you tried to keep your voice from shaking. It was already hoarse from that scream. “I… like snails.”

“So sweet,” Yonji swooned. He flew close, with Niji and the poor snail following behind him. “You should see our— “

“It’s my turn, brothers,” the eldest prince reminded them.

Yonji kissed your cheek before he flew away, but Niji grabbed your wrist. He placed the snail in the center of your palm before tracing his fingers down the side of your face.

“Such a pretty princess,” he hummed, “I’ll make sure this thing is safe for you. We can even let some watch our date if you— “

“This is my date, Niji.”

“Right. Have fun, you two.”

Thankfully, the blue-haired brother grabbed the snail before he flew away, but another set of eyes stayed glued to your skin.

“Sorry about that, beautiful. Let’s eat, I wanna know about all the other sweet things you like.”

Still cheesy. Still cocky.

Yet somehow his guiding hand on you lower back, and his hungry eyes reminded you of another sort of numb.

Nothing matters, so I might as well enjoy this.

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🐊🐊🐊~~~

 

“Feel good, star,” Crocodile’s little clown mumbled in his sleep, the stench of liquor on Buggy’s breath rivaling his own.

“Hey,” he started, wanting to carry Buggy to bed instead of leaving him alone on that green couch. “Come on— “

“Just feel good, baby,” his clown whined softly, the sadness in his voice tearing at the scarred man even more tonight.

“Shh, Buggy. It’s gonna be okay.”

He hoped he wasn’t lying.

“I won’t tell, star. I know it was a— What the fuck?”

“It’s just me, little clown. Let’s go to bed,” he offered his hand. Buggy shook himself but followed him down the empty corridor to that empty bed. “Bad dreams again?”

“No— I mean, just the same bullshit,” Buggy coughed while his fingers tapped along his thigh. “Ha, I really thought the booze would help… What about you?”

Crocodile pulled the man close, and kissed that tangled, blue hair as he closed his eyes against this shitty world.

“We’re gonna get her back,” he vowed ignoring the scent of lies in the air. There had never been room for trust in this world, but Crocodile realized he didn’t care if his little lovers were lying to him. He just needed them back.

He needed to make a better world for them.

 

~~~🐊🐊🐊~~~

Notes:

"I've still been disappearing from the world," is how I started my last author's note from Chapter 34. So much has changed in my life.

Personal Vent below!
Mostly vague, but trigger warning for toxic, demanding work environments, and their affect on physical and mental health. Mention of bipolar and adhd.

PLEASE DON'T READ THIS unless you really want to, and have the space for it! I would rather you scroll past than to take on any of my stress.

I am okay, and I want Numbers Game to be a place for us to rest and enjoy some fictional chaos instead. This will be the last time I'll discuss this on a Numbers Game post, but I felt I had to share how much I've wanted to be here with y'all. Any future updates will be posted separately on my lynna's health updates tag on tumblr.

I am free from the situation that was wrecking my physical, mental, and financial health for the past five years. That chaos sent me into an episode that landed me on medical leave last year.

But that fucked up time is when I started writing, and joined this wonderful community. I wouldn't have made it though the past year without y'all. I was in full on crisis mode, and it had all come to a head over these past few months.

Then I got out.

I was so fucking excited to tell y'all about the new changes in my life, but I was overwhelmed with everything that I had to do to get out and prepare. Plus, my fucking thumb stopped working because I was typing the first draft of this chapter on my phone since I had no time to sit down and write, and I had to rest it for the new job that seemed perfect for me.

I hope that it'll get better soon, but I seem to have jumped out of the frying pan, and into the fire.

I am okay. I am safe.

I am just tired as fuck, and needing to set boundaries with a new company that is even more demanding than the last. At least they are actually paying me on time, and it's less physically demanding, (unless you count a lifelong insomniac adjusting to waking up at 6am and getting home at 6pm, five days a week 🥴).

The main reason I was excited for this job, besides relieving the crisis shit I was going though, was that it would have a regular schedule; I'd be able to focus on what I really want to do. Sorry it took me so long to catch my breath, but I'm fucking back, y'all. I'm not letting another company drain my soul away. I'm not working off the clock any more.

 

I've got smut to write 🥰📝🔥

 

With so much love,

 

~ Lynna 💜✨

Chapter 36: Maybe I Have Gone Mad

Summary:

Your first date with the first born prince leads you to a hint of hope, yet it's hard not to focus on the first man that stole your heart. The Cross Guild tries not to fall through a hole in the world while the Emperor tries to be a villain. All they can do is hope that they're not too late to chase their little rabbit.

Notes:

Hi! I miss y'all so much, I hope I can come back more regularly soon. I'm okay! Thank you for all the love and interactions even when I'm in hardcore hermit mode, I adore you so much! 🥰🙏

~

 

Ch. 35 ~ Recap:

• Buggy dealt with guilt and fear over keeping your lie a secret. He watched Crocodile and Mihawk falling apart without their Numbers Girl, and decided not to tell them what you said to your sister: that you "never wanted to see those murderers, those monsters again."
• Crocodile kept watching his sweet girl's worst memories while his old agents sailed closer. He saw a memory of you practicing speaking with a transponder snail, but crumbling when your uncle called, taunting you by saying that your sister was sailing during storm season. Crocodile held onto his little clown while all of his lovers fell to pieces, and realized that he didn't care if they lied. He just wanted them back.
• Mihawk fought to stay hopeful while he hunted for answers, but he kept finding reasons to be a monster while he followed the trail of underground casinos, and people that used your pain for their pleasure and their pockets.
• Shanks struggled, every move he made seeming to push you further away. He couldn't speak openly on this snail-covered island, but he wouldn't stop fighting for you.
• You were trying to be numb, trying not to feel anything, but Uncle Cedrick kept tearing you down. You drank through your date with Giberson, then broke his arrow at Cedrick's command. You decided to enjoy your time as much as you could, but couldn't help thinking about the upcoming date with your first crush, Mr. Iceburg.
• But that was tomorrow. Today, you were flown into a tower of roses with the first born Vinsmoke prince. Your old trauma snuck out when his brother almost hurt a surveillance snail, but now your date with Ichiji was about to begin.
• You told yourself "that nothing mattered, so you might as well enjoy this."

~

Dark Content Warning:
I haven't marked any untagged dark content for this chapter. Hopefully I didn't miss anything big for you, but I will say that Iceburg is showing up more, so be prepared for reader's conflicting feelings for her first crush/hunter.

Also, I hope everyone remembers the tag/warning: Cross Guild Boys are VILLAINS. It’s been here since day one, so 🤷‍♀️

~

!!! SPOILER WARNING !!!
Fic currently contains spoilers for up to chapter 1064 or episode 1093. As we get further into Egghead Arc where our lovely boys are showing up more, there will be more spoilers as time goes on. Sorry y'all, I'm trying to keep most spoilers small details, but Cross Guild is endgame, lol.

~

Alternate POV Symbols:
🌲 ~ Reader | 🐊 ~ Crocodile | 🗡 ~ Mihawk | 🤡 ~ Buggy | 🔴 ~ Shanks | ⏰ ~ Flashbacks for listed POV | ⚫ ~ Scenes depicting Dark Content as listed in Author's Notes

Extras:
Numbers Game Tumblr Masterlist
Ongoing Series Playlist ~ YouTube Music Link ~ YouTube Link
Chapter Tunes ~ Arrow Pierce My Heart ~ The Bonnevilles | Rabbit Hole ~ Why Mona

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

 

“Oh my, it seems you’ve drained my pockets dry,” The Concealer chuckled, pushing the last of his chips toward Shanks’ pile. “And before our lucky lady has even emerged from her tower.”

The Emperor of the Sea gritted his teeth at the reminder of the distant image on the projector screen. Y/N had been flown into a tower of pretty thorns while the leeches around him placed bets on which of the three brothers she’d choose to keep, if her ugly dress would still be intact when they freed her from the roses, or if she’d be crying for mercy from that inhuman prince’s inhuman cock.

Y/N’s mask had shattered for just a moment, but the terror in her scream meant nothing to her guests. His wealthy companions had only praised or laughed at her for her concern for the cam-snail, most of them just lamenting that she hadn’t kept it with her in that cage of thorns.

“Mind accompanying an old man to his quarters,” Giberson interrupted his inner rage with a cheerful wink. “I need to restock my funds so I can keep filling your pockets.”

Shanks wanted to carry the old man to get out of that room before he snapped and nearly spat at the staff that stopped him from leaving the mound of chips he’d won.

“I’ll watch your winnings, chief,” Benn grinned, nudging him toward the ex-suitor that was hobbling out. “So long as you don’t mind buying me, and my new friend a drink?”

“Better be some left when I come back,” he forced a laugh, sparing just a glance toward the young woman his first mate had charmed into sitting on his lap. Benn had always been skilled at enjoying himself while he gathered information.

At least someone was having a good time here.

 

~~~🔴~~~

 

“Come on in, my boy,” Giberson welcomed, ushering Shanks into his opulent suite. “Care for a drink before you rob me of all my berry?”

“How could I refuse?”

Shanks’ body was burning with tension, his prey within his sights.

The old man set his tall hat onto the coffee table after pouring them each a glass, leaving Shanks to wait with the liquor in his hand. The great pirate was shaking.

Pull it together, shithead.

The tiny smile his thought had given him dropped in confusion when Giberson pulled out a small, horned snail from the inside of that large hat.

“Why­– “

The Emperor of the Underworld tapped a bony finger over his lips, gesturing toward the snail until its eyes turned red.

The silent humming of surveillance that had become a constant itch faded away while the red-eyed creature swayed.

“A jamming snail,” Shanks breathed, tapping glasses with the smirking, old man.

“Congratulations, my boy. I really thought it would be Katakuri or Iceburg, but I was so hoping it would be you.”

Shanks couldn’t read his intentions, so he just sipped his drink.

“The mighty Red Haired Shanks is still cautious, eh,” Giberson laughed, clapping him on the shoulder as though he had no sense of caution himself. “That’s probably how you got to be so mighty. Don’t worry, I’ll answer any questions you have, and my little friend will keep our words quiet. Although, with all the surveillance here, my pet might not be able to hold up for too long. Best get started.”

“But why,” Shanks trailed off, fighting to wake himself up and get to work. It can’t be this easy…

“That lovely heiress would never pick an old ghost like me,” Giberson chuckled. He topped them both off before leaning back, eyeing Shanks with a satisfied grin. “I came to play the game, and I knew that whichever hunter found me first would be the one most determined to win. I may not have luck with cards, but I always bet on the winning horse. You really want to win that little bunny, don’t you, Shanks?”

The snail blinked slowly, and the Emperor of the Sea remembered that he had to breathe, had to fix this.

“Tell me about the Vinsmokes— wait,” he sputtered after he swallowed his liquor too fast, the rye whiskey burning his lips while he wasted more precious time. “Why did you think it would be Katakuri or Iceburg?”

Giberson’s patronizing laughter took too fucking long, but he cut Shanks off before he could hurry him up.

“You haven’t been paying attention, have you,” the Concealer chided. Topping off their drinks was the only thing that kept violence from tearing through the room. “Just wait. I’m sure our little doe is having fun with the young buck tonight, but you should be more worried about the older competition. Especially the one that she’s admired for so long.”

“Aren’t we on borrowed time, Gibby?” Shanks’ smile seemed to chafe his own lips. “Don’t you wanna give your chosen horse a fighting chance?”

“Too right you are,” he laughed, wiggling a finger in the air to scold himself. “The older you get, the more you like to hear yourself talk, I’m afraid, but let’s get on with it. You may be an emperor, but you’re going to need all the help you can get if you want to compete with that gentle giant, and the lady’s first crush.”

Shanks needed all the help he could get.

 

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

The handsome prince sat close enough to you to still watch your face, your breath, while trailing his hand along your back. Your heavy gown added to the building warmth in the dimly lit tower of roses he’d trapped you in.

Ichiji had eaten from the same serving plates, so you had filled your own, fighting off sleepiness while you sipped the cool champagne.

“So, it’s true that you worked at a bank, huh,” he purred. You fought to focus on his handsome face, and not the same old small talk you always hated.

“Mhm,” you nodded, nearly blowing out the pretty candle on the table, tired of its dancing light. “I know it was a unique hobby— “

“Vinsmokes aren’t useless royals, you know.” He pulled you toward his gaze with gentle fingers on your chin, pausing to stare at your parted lips before continuing. “If you enjoy being useful, I’m sure we can find responsibilities for you in our kingdom. It takes a lot of math to craft our tech.”

You couldn’t risk these feelings, couldn’t humor the slivers of hope for a decent life that you kept stumbling upon. All you could do was try to enjoy the ride and land in the softest place.

Kat wanted to see their tech… Maybe—

 “But I wouldn’t mind pampering you if that’s what you’d prefer,” Ichiji teased along your cheek.

You’d gone still too long while you hoped for a less shitty existence, but it didn’t matter.

“My princess,” he seemed to beg, kissing down your neck before pulling away. That word had always pissed you off. It wasn’t true, whether it was said with love or disdain.

He pulled his glasses off, shoving red hair from his face to stare down at you. “Just tell me what you want, gorgeous. Anything… Do you wanna stop?”

“Why pick just one,” you breathed, watching confusion move those strangely cute eyebrows of his. Blowing out the candle instead of answering his questioning sound, you let yourself enjoy everything the moment had to give. “What if I’d like to be useful and pampered?”

You were glad for the other lights in the dim tower, because the hungry flare in his eyes when you kissed the inside of his wrist was delicious. The red-haired prince was shaking, nearly panting, and his need might have been frightening if you still gave a fuck about anything besides going numb.

“Can I please pamper you, princess,” Ichiji begged, his fingers gripping into your thick skirts. A puppy struggling to obey while it waited to snatch up its treat.

That word might be growing on you.

“Yes, please—Oh, Ichiji!”

The prince shoved the table away, dishes crashing to the ground along with that luckily blown out candle. He knelt at your feet, and you almost regretted your choice as the need in his eyes seemed violent. The tightening of your body only reminded you of how fucked up you were.

“You’re gonna look so pretty on a throne,” Ichiji threatened. His hands felt too strong when they lifted your dress, yanking your panties down your legs. He tucked them into his pocket, and you smirked, about to tease the desperate prince.

You couldn’t smirk, or tease, or do anything but moan and let your eyes roll back when his fingers found you dripping. He teased over you, circling your clit before shoving one, then two fingers in, curling, taking.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” the prince panted while he made you twitch. “I didn’t think you’d be so… You fucking want this, don’t you?”

You reached for his hair, wanting to be sure you were seeing him right. The prince looked more wrecked than you were.

“Ichiji,” you whined, coming when he brought his other hand to tease your clit, coming while he moaned along with you. His body thrust toward yours from where he knelt on the floor, but he managed to keep pampering you with his fingers while his eyes rolled back.

“Mm, Ichiji, that felt so good.”

The air that had been too hot went cold as the prince pulled away. His jaw was clenched, a tension in his body that made you still, until you remembered.

“That was so fucking hot,” you purred, trailing your hands along your thighs, and his eyes couldn’t seem to resist the pull.

“Yeah, princess,” he asked as he cleared his throat, still holding himself away.

“Yes,” you bit your lip. You hoped you were reading this prince well. “I love that you came just from touching me. You really liked making me feel good?”

A hint of a snarl touched his lips.

Fuck. Don’t be mad. Don’t—

“Does my princess want more,” Ichiji growled, and your body went loose with relief and delicious want.

Your breathy, ‘yes,’ left you squealing when that hungry prince launched himself at you. His red hair disappeared beneath that stupid dress, and you cursed the bells that rang closer and closer while he left sloppy, then focused kisses and licks along your core. You felt him whine around your clit before he pulled away, and the sight of him licking his fucking lips had you beaming at him.

“We’re gonna finish this later, right, gorgeous,” he teased, pointlessly smoothing your skirts into place.

“What would a princess say?”

“My princess can say whatever she wants,” Ichiji promised, his sticky clothes covered by his raid suit again, and soon you were carried through the circle of thorns toward his waiting brothers. They flanked him again, but you didn’t hear their light bickering now.

The wind teased your flushed skin, and he let you touch the top of another tree before you were brought back down. Down to reality, where you still had to think, instead of letting a handsome prince, or the lovely wind whisk you away. Daydreams of flying free brought a soft smile to your face while they kissed your hands, until you were stuffed into another fluffy robe and dragged back to your less-pretty cage.

 

~~~🌲~~~

 

Kat was waiting, letting out a soft sigh after she barked at the servants to leave you with her. The worry returned, but your sister started humming softly while she helped you out of that ugly gown, and you couldn’t believe what you were seeing.

“Are you… happy?”

“Shut the fuck up,” she ordered, but there was something in her narrowed eyes that woke you up. “I am capable of happiness, you know.”

Snorting earned you a scowl, but you’d seen it. All you needed.

“But I won’t be happy again until you are,” Kat declared, the words stated as a fact, like she was merely reciting the time.

Her voice said it so clearly, but her eyes held just a hint. Only a sister could have seen the light there.

The hope.

“So, how was your date?”

She frowned at your reaching hand, but didn’t stop you from snagging the lovely clue from her sweater.

“How was yours,” you teased, holding it up to the light. She made so many faces so quickly that you laughed, until she snatched it from you.

A strand of pretty, pink hair.

“It wasn’t a date, it’s not like that,” Kat lied, but you let her.

Your sister had never talked to you about that before, but you had come out to her ages ago. If she wasn’t ready, then you wouldn’t push her. You’d try really hard not to push her.

“Gods, you’re still annoying,” she sighed at the grin you couldn’t wipe off your face. “There’s not a lot for sisters of the stars to do, so we’ve been hanging out. We might be sister-in-law’s soon anyway.”

“Hanging out pretty close, huh,” you smirked, flicking your eyes toward the pink hair on her lap. She wiped it away to drift toward the plush carpet.

“Reiju didn’t have a spare set, alright,” Kat explained, anger barely covering the like quirk to her lips. “I told her I wanted to hover, so she flew me around for a bit. It was— “

“Fucking awesome, right,” you laughed, reaching for her hands now.

“I told you,” Kat gave in, matching your true smile now. “Unless someone else has hover boots, the Vinsmokes are my number one choice. Unless you really like someone else, I guess.”

“Well, I have three to choose from, so they’ve got a forty two point— “

“You fucking nerd!”

This wasn’t numb.

You hadn’t felt this feeling in years, and it was more than you deserved.

This moment felt like connection, like you were being a real sister to her.

It was fucking stupid. Naïve.

You couldn’t risk feeling happy or hopeful for either of you, just fight for the least shitty option. Weigh the pros and cons.

But if you could keep Kat safe, and give her a chance to be genuinely happy, then you’d slaughter every fucking person on this island to do it.

“Go take a shower, nerd,” she ordered, breathless from tackling you. “Your hair looks fucking stupid.”

 

~~~🌲~~~

 

No fucking favorites.

Mr. Iceburg…

You had shoved him out of your mind as much as you could, but waking up to the prospect of his undivided attention this evening reminded you of how sweet and soft obsession could feel. You had always wanted him.

Nothing matters anyway. If he is a monster, I can kill him too.

After.

 

~~~🌲~~~

 

You’d never been happier to be scowled at.

Kat sat across from you at breakfast, neither of you paying attention to the drivel that Uncle Cedrick and Vinsmoke Judge kept spoon-feeding each other. The other brothers were competition, so they weren’t invited. This left you with the eldest brother purring along your neck all morning, his constant praise and promises nearly becoming background noise.

Ichiji’s affection just couldn’t compete with the sisterly delight you felt watching Kat squirm beside the beautiful Vinsmoke princess.

The grace that Reiju held herself with was dreamy, somehow weightless, even without her hover boots. She’d shrugged off her red cape, but her pink hair seemed to sway in its place each time she moved, dancing along the high collar of her white dress. It seemed mimic the frilled shirts her brothers wore but hugged her body all the way down to her thighs. You couldn’t see them below the table now, but Reiju’s lovely thighs each held a large tattoo of the number six.

Reiju flaunted those numbers that sent fear through their enemies.

Germa 66. The conquering kingdom. This stunning woman came from a family that was said to be superhuman, vicious, evil.

Your sister had hardly touched her plate, too busy watching the possibly evil princess’ every move.

Bad guys aren’t always so bad…

“So, Y/N,” Reiju hummed, her fingers playing along the side of her empty glass, “you were a pirate, weren’t you? That seems like a lot more fun than— “

“Kidnapped by pirates,” your uncle corrected, not seeming to care if she believed him while he went back to glowing at his new “friend.”

“That could still be fun,” she winked at you before turning her gorgeous, violet eyes toward your sister. “What do you think, Kat? Would you rather have a pirate or a prince?”

Your sister glanced toward Uncle Cedrick, but he was too busy laughing at his own joke.

“Are those my only options,” Kat asked. Her voice was quiet but held enough of a flirtatious lilt that you had to look away to keep from cheering her on.

“Let’s hope not,” Reiju chuckled, and you let Ichiji distract you now, giving as much space as you could.

 

~~~🌲~~~

 

Another hunt was about to begin, and the locket didn’t fit the theme. You managed to shove it into the tight, striped dress before endless hands pulled and prodded at your skin, your hair, and your fucking sanity.

Regretting the question before it left your lips, you reminded yourself that these people were just trying to survive. They weren’t leeches, just tools and toys for the rich to control so they could keep living their pampered lives.

That was hard to remember while the servants dressed you up like a lamb to slaughter, but everything went back to him. Uncle Cedrick would never let you go. You would never be free from his games.

“Why are you painting stripes...”

Fuck. That fucking asshole.

“It’s part of today’s game,” your mother cooed. You were surprised that her perfect smile hadn’t shattered the mirror.

“Today’s hunt,” your corrected, daring her to falter, to let that mask fall just a bit.

That smile of hers grew sharper and a small part of you wondered what words she had swallowed down. The rest of you was fighting not to scream and claw at the servants that were painting lines across your chest to match that red and white dress. Those stripes were curved around a center point, a lovely, red heart painted over where your real heart was pounding with rage.

Don’t show it. Don’t let it in.

Sick laughter almost escaped, but you swallowed it down to return your mother’s sharp smile.

 

~~~🌲~~~

 

Vultures gasped in delight when you stepped into the courtyard. There were always so many eyes on you, but today felt like it was about to be a rough fucking day, and the wave of their laughter almost crushed you. Your body thrummed with the desire to pierce every single one of their greedy hearts until the white on your dress was stained red.

Uncle Cedrick had made you a target and painted you to match your fate, and his twisted pleasure was met with applause.

You had never wanted to be a monster. All these years you had tried to run, tried to hide from the words you’d been branded with.

Broken.

Sick.

Damaged.

Crazy.

Psycho.

Unwell.

Uncle Cedrick dragged you to the little stage, fingers pressing into your back until you smiled.

The strength it took not to snatch the arrow from his grasp and try to end as many leeches as you could before you disappeared was physically painful.

You had really thought that you were holding it together. You thought that you were strong enough to pretend.

But today was a rough day, and just standing there in that debasing dress was almost enough to make you tear at your hair, struggling against the disgusting, abhorrent feeling of living your fucking life.

Buggy.

It was just a name, a small, painful sound in your mind, yet it shifted the weight of your soul for a moment.

Your uncle’s words were white noise while you swallowed the lump in your throat. Kat’s concerned gaze caught yours from her spot at the Vinsmoke’s table, and you couldn’t let him win. If he broke you that deep, if you gave in to that rage, then the consequences would hurt more than just those you wished to end.

A twinge of resentment touched your selfish mind, but you forced yourself to breathe it out.

Just shut it off. Disappear inside.

Pretend.

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

 

Once again, Shanks fell in line beside his enemies. The Concealer had filled his mind with so many words, so many secrets and weaknesses, but not a single plan.

How could he plan when Cedrick Sylvad had his hands on her?

“Another hunter has failed the hunt,” Cedrick chided, and Shanks couldn’t keep his fingers from twitching when Sylvad pressed the point of an arrow to her heart.

Her lovely heart that this monster had painted a fucking bullseye on and encouraged his greedy friends to aim their weapons at.

“However, our little doe is so sweet that she wants to give each hunter one last chance,” he lied. Shanks had heard the leeches complaining while they lounged and bet on this game. Some wanted more drama, more romance, more tension.

Cedrick was giving his “friends” every twisted thing they wanted, and they adored him for it.

“One of you will still be going home, but she may change her mind on who depending on your next few words,” he teased as he stepped down from that moving platform. “Tell her why she should be yours.”

That fallen star was frozen, a perfect smile breaking his heart while she was lifted, gliding through the air until she reached the end of the line.

Vinsmokes.

All three of those cocky princes promised her a pampered life, and Shanks would have laughed at their weak attempts if he didn’t have three of them to deal with.

He held himself taut, needing to hear the next hunter’s every word, but Iceburg’s promises were hard to catch over the laughter beside him.

“Did you hear them, brother,” Cracker asked loudly, craning his neck to catch Katakuri’s gaze. “Didn’t we make their daddy cry his eyes out a month ago? How do they expect to protect our little bride when they can’t even—“

“Enough,” came that deep voice from above, but Katakuri was too late.

“Alright boys,” Cedrick scolded with a laugh while the Vinsmokes glared from behind their colored glasses. “That’s enough tension for today. My dear niece deserves a little romance before you sink your arrows into her.”

Glancing back at Y/N turned Shanks’ rage into icy fear.

Y/N’s smile looked just a little more real, and she hadn’t seemed to have heard her uncle’s words while she gazed up at the blue haired shipwright.

Iceburg kissed her hand after taking a mouse from her palm, tucking it into his pocket.

“I hope you don’t send me home before our date tonight, girlie,” Iceburg whined, “I don’t wanna leave before I show you your gift. It took so much work.”

She laughed.

Fuck.

The Emperor of the Sea watched helplessly while that star shined just a bit. She shined for someone else.

And she kept shining when the platform lifted her into the air.

“No matter what you choose, you are already mine,” the merman prince promised.

His voice sounded hushed, but it was too large to hide from the air. Fukaboshi kept softness in what could almost be a threat.

“I will do everything in my power to help you lead the joyful life that your kind heart deserves.”

If Y/N gave a reply, it was lost while the platform pulled her down, but she was still high enough for the Sweet Commander of the Big Mom pirates to gaze at her with those crimson eyes.

“I am meant to tell you why you should be mine,” Katakuri purred, tracing the side of her face with his large fingers, blocking the piece of her that Shanks could see from this angle. “But I want to be yours, Y/N. I want to be your family, and I hope that you’ll give me another chance to show you how much family means to me.”

“Thank you, Katakuri,” Y/N said, giving a small yelp when the platform pulled her away from another enemy Shanks would have to defeat.

“Cracker?”

Y/N waited for the other Charlotte to look her way, the man tilting his head up toward his elder brother before snapping back to her.

“You should keep me here so I can protect you from those spoiled princes down the line. They don’t care about family, and that makes them weak. If you choose—“

“You’ve got a lot to say for someone who—“

“Don’t worry hunters, you’ll have plenty more opportunities to test yourselves against one another. For now, I believe that our Emperor of the Sea still needs to say his piece,” Cedrick gestured to him before Y/N was set down before him.

She was so close.

Right there.

Lightyears and lightyears away.

There were so many things he ached to say, but Shanks wasn’t done playing the villain.

He pulled her off the platform, catching her against his chest when she stumbled. The crowd gasped in surprised titillation while Shanks held her chin to keep her gaze trapped on his.

The red-haired pirate was silent during his turn. Instead of imploring her to keep him, Shanks just stared down into those swirling depths.

There were noises and voices around them, but Shanks was drowning in her, drowning in his desperate need for her to wake up. He tried to look the villain, to convince her with his eyes, or to read anything from her, but all he could do was drink in that emptiness.

The nothingness she gave him nearly broke him. No one could carry all of this with such a lovely smile.

Unless she was already gone.

Finally, those cursed bells, and Cedrick’s entitled fingers, tore the shell of that shining star from his grasp.

 

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

I knew those soft, brown eyes were a lie…

You couldn’t recall ever feeling grateful for Uncle Cedrick’s controlling touch, but anything was better than the cage that your enemy had cornered you in.

Disappearing was the only way you could withstand the force of that powerful pirate’s gaze.

Those eyes had held more than flirtation, desire, or anger. Shanks had let that mask fall away, letting the world watch the predator claim what was his. He was a greedy monster, and the chaos in his silent demand felt like walls closing in. You felt a sudden fear for your other buyers as the heat of his grip still seemed to burn into your skin.

Shanks isn’t just playing.

The Emperor of the Sea wanted to own you, and he was the kind of man that got everything he wanted, no matter what he had to do to get it. It was no wonder why Uncle Cedrick seemed to like him so much.

“Well, dear niece,” he called you back to the world, making you gasp when he broke the arrow beside you, pressing it into your palm. “Time to say goodbye. I wonder if these lovely promises were enough to change your vote…”

It seemed that the crowd of vultures was growing louder every day, but the heaviness in your next words was enough to drown them out.

“Prince Fukaboshi,” you called out with that practiced calm, your voice carrying through the courtyard until they shut the fuck up. The platform tore you from the ground, until you tried not to shake before this terrifying man that you could have been safe with.

This man that appeared to be the most monstrous of them all yet might be the only hero in this line of hunters.

His soft smile with those sharp teeth forced you to breathe. You couldn’t show favorites, not even at the end.

“I am sorry, Prince Fukaboshi,” you told the truth, dropping the splintered wood of the arrow into his massive palm. “I’m afraid that your arrow failed to pierce my heart.”

“It has been an honor to try,” he started, his brows furrowing when the platform began to lower before he finished his sentence. His deep voice rolled down over you until Uncle Cedrick guided you away from a life that might have been.

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~

 

Doerena was a lovely, little kingdom.

Its smuggling ring was particularly delightful, although Mihawk didn’t care about the weapons, the drugs, or the power.

The swordsman only cared about the snails and the little rabbit that he was always too late to catch.

Mihawk had woken up too late. Changed too late.

The rage that gripped him every time he caught someone using Y/N for their own pleasure was a force of nature, cruel and mindless. It cracked open the ground beneath him, sucking everything into his destruction while he fell through a hole in the earth.

The swordsman cleaned his blade, ignoring the rest of his mess while he watched his love on the big screen.

His darling was smiling with a hideous target painted over her beautiful heart, but he swore that he had caught a hint of fight in those gorgeous eyes when her uncle brandished an arrow at her.

“We’ll paint it red, darling,” Mihawk promised while he watched his red-haired lover chase his little rabbit.

Mihawk promised endless red in that room that he’d already painted for her, his sword the only clean thing in sight. Promises were all he could give her while he waited for his chance.

I won’t be late.

 

~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

 

Only three hunters had yet to have a private date, but that still left too many more days before Shanks could claim another for himself.

Another chance.

“All hunters are welcome to play,” Cedrick announced, charming the crowd, “but today’s prize will be claimed by a Vinsmoke or a Charlotte. Which one of you will pierce her heart?”

The Emperor of the Sea twirled an arrow in his fingers, ignoring the bow beside him while the other hunters prepped their shots.

“Pathetic, little boys can’t do shit without their fancy suits, huh?”

“Cracker,” his brother warned. Katakuri had sat this hunt out, offering his shadow to Y/N while she watched her hunters try to sink their arrows into her beautifully carved doppelgangers.

Those wooden dolls were painted with that matching bullseye over their hearts, but their perfect smiles had to be more real than the one on her lips.

“I wouldn’t need my suit to end a freak like you,” Niji sneered, leaning around his younger brother.

Cheers interrupted their tension and Shanks frowned up at the replay of one of those perfect dolls being perfectly shot through the heart.

Iceburg was annoyingly skilled with a bow.

“All these years of friendship and I never knew we shared a hobby,” Cedrick chuckled while the old shipwright pulled his shirt back on, disappointed sounds floating up from the audience at the act. “If you pierce my niece’s heart like that, we may have some family hunting trips to plan soon.”

“Ooh, but look at the prince,” one of the leeches called out until Yonji’s image filled the screen. The green-haired Vinsmoke lifted his chin, too proud of winning with his second place shot.

“At least the green shit has some energy. That prissy, blue boy is fucking worthless. Our cute, little bride already forgot about them, huh,” Cracker taunted too loudly, his overconfidence boiling over while he drew all eyes to his. “I bet she can’t even feel them after she’s had a Charllotte. Not unless they use their fancy toys.”

Cracker’s grin spread wide, thick and vicious across the screen until he got what he wanted. Niji had shoved past his younger brother, his crackling energy shattering a few graham cracker soldiers before the remaining brothers stopped the fight, and Cracker didn’t stop laughing until Katakuri loomed over him.

Shanks had taken the moment to show off, appearing between his little bunny and the would-be battle between failed hunters. Niji and Cracker were reigned in almost instantly, but the disappointment from the crowd reminded Shanks of what a show they were all trapped in.

“I am surprised we made it this far,” Cedrick chuckled as he took center stage again. “I wonder if anyone made a killing on these two being the first to fight…”

A smattering of groans left the crowd, with one voice lamenting the fact that they hadn’t put more berry down.

“Excuse me, Emperor,” he purred, grabbing Y/N’s wrist to guide her before the fighters. He snapped his fingers in the air, and a servant brought him two arrows in an instant, the tyrant beaming while he broke them over his knee. “I’m afraid you two have broken the rules, and it wouldn’t be fair to let you stay. Do you have anything you’d like to say to my dear niece now that you have failed to pierce her heart?”

Shanks fought not to let hope creep into his stupid, selfish heart while he watched two of his enemies disappear so easily.

Those two had never been a real threat.

“You like my brother, don’t you,” Cracker taunted, although his manic grin seemed more earnest than before. Y/N didn’t answer soon enough to stop the man’s next few words from spilling out. “Big brother likes you too. Don’t make me kill all these fuckers to make you my sister. I’ll make them suffer first, and—“

“Brotherly love,” Cedrick laughed while Katakuri dragged his cackling brother away, “and what about you, Prince Niji?”

The blue-haired prince stared at her for a long moment, too much satisfaction in his gaze.

“It’s alright. This little princess is coming home with us, aren’t you?”

“She’s coming home with me,” Yonji declared, kneeling to kiss Y/N’s hand. He was now the last hunter left without his first, private date.

Y/N gave the green-haired prince a lovely smile, and Shanks fought not to celebrate.

The day after tomorrow. Shanks could win another chance the day after tomorrow.

I just need one more chance.

 

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🌲🌲🌲⏰~~~

 

Dad’s fingers tapping on his desk might have distracted you if a certain someone hadn’t answered his call.

“How’s my favorite shipwright?”

“Mm, well, I’ll be better once the season passes,” Iceburg complained, and you chewed on your pencil while you fought off your grin at his deep voice. That silly whine of his came through your dad’s snail so clearly, and you knew you wouldn’t be able to focus on your homework now.

You were good at pretending though, so you scribbled random numbers onto your notebook while your dad chatted with your favorite shipwright.

“Really,” your dad chuckled, “I thought storm season was good building time for you. You’ve already got another East Blue boat for us to look at, don’t you? Plus, that extra project?”

“Of course,” Mr. Iceburg assured while you imagined his lovely hands making lovely things. “You and our little numbers girl can swing on by after the season ends. Kokoro’s throwing Tom another execution extension party. Last year’s was—”

“I think the worst is past, don’t you,” your dad grinned, winking before you buried your face in your work again. “I might swing by for that little project soon, but we’ll be back for the party once Y/N’s out for spring break. If she gets good grades, of course.”

Sticking your tongue out at the tease saved you, because you would have swallowed it at Mr. Iceburg’s next words.

“I know she will. Y/N’s smarter than both of us, Arbo.”

“Don’t I know it,” Dad beamed, embarrassment heating your cheeks while you tried not to groan. “Thanks, Ice. I’ll see you soon.”

“Not too soon, friend,” Mr. Iceburg scolded. “The season’s almost over.”

 

~~~⏰🌲🌲🌲⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

 

It didn’t matter that his enemy seemed to be a good man. From everything Shanks had already known about the CEO of Galley La, and all he’d heard from the Concealer, Iceburg appeared to be a genuinely decent person. He was well-loved by his people, adored, and admired.

The only potential flaw he could find was that Iceburg was here.

“This is quite the boat, Mr. Iceberg. It hasn’t even been two weeks since the hunt started,” Shanks whistled, finally catching his enemy alone. “How’d you make this for our girl so fast? Or was it meant for another sweetheart?”

Staff were still milling about the edge of the lake, setting up tables so the leeches could dine while they watched this man steal her away.

The man in question stepped off the gorgeous, little sailboat, a slight crease to his brow before he answered the red-haired pirate.

“It wasn’t,” Iceburg noted with a smile when he looked back at his work. “I made this for Y/N a long time ago, with a little help from a friend.”

“Would that friend of yours be pleased about your date tonight,” Shanks taunted, leaning close to knock on the boat. “Last time I drank with Arbo, he wasn’t keen on the idea of his little girl with an older man.”

Iceburg hardly moved, but the shift was impressive, his eyes going as cold as his namesake while he assessed the man before him.

“I suppose we’re both bad friends then,” the shipwright drawled. He moved to walk around Shanks off the dock, glaring when the emperor stood in his path.

“A man in your position has a lot to lose here,” Shanks breathed, frustration and fury rising at the lack of fear showing in that icy gaze. “Everyone expects pirates to be the bad guys, but mayors? I don’t think your constituents will be too pleased about what you’re up to.”

Nothing. This man could hold himself quiet, and Shanks couldn’t risk using Haki to make him kneel.

“If you’re not going to attack me, please get out of my way.” Iceburg finally clenched his jaw, eyes flicking over Shanks’ shoulder toward the growing sounds of vultures. “I don’t want to keep my date waiting.”

“She’s leaving here with me,” the desperate pirate vowed, hissing while he let his enemy walk away.

“I don’t think she likes you very much, Emperor,” Iceburg arched a brow. Applause met the shipwright when he walked toward the show, both of their forms displayed across the projector screen while the snails captured the small boat, and the symbol of a tree framed by the sun painted on its sail.

Shanks stared at himself on the distant screen, his stupid hair too bright to try to sneak onto the ship with so many eyes on him now.

 

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🐊🤡🐊🤡🐊~~~

 

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“No, I…”

Fuck. The scarred man had been too frightening again.

His pretty clown left his bite of a too-syrupy pancake dangling over his plate when Crocodile interrupted him, shaking his head at all the breakfast’s for dinner he'd been having.

At least he's eating.

“You’re not ‘fine,” Crocodile attempted to soothe while he scolded, “you’ve hardly slept in days. I’ll watch over you if you like. Wake you up if you say anything interesting.”

Crocodile could hardly sleep himself. Not when he had more recordings of his sweet girl's torture to watch. Watching over Buggy pushed some of that useless rage aside, at least for a moment.

“Thanks… daddy.”

The guilt that was rotting through the clown’s bones had twisted today. He had already decided. It wasn’t even a question.

Buggy would do anything to save his star, even lie.

“I don’t like it if you don’t mean it,” Crocodile teased, finally breathing when his final, little lover cracked a smile for him.

“Sorry,” Buggy huffed a laugh, stretching so taut that his joints slipped apart.  

Buggy would do anything to save her.

But what if she really…

“What do you—uh,” the clown cleared his throat, almost losing his voice before these words could meet the air. “If I told you she was happy, would you believe me? Would you leave her alone?”

The ice in Crocodile’s veins kept the rage from moving too fast.

 “She’s with Iceburg, isn’t she?”

 

~~~🐊🤡🐊🤡🐊~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

“Help me,” you begged, your voice high and desperate while you tried to calm your racing heart.

“You look amazing, sis,” Kat shook her head while you held up another dress against the midnight blue one you kept gravitating toward. This was the one time you wished that your outfit would be chosen for you, but Iceburg wanted you to "be yourself," so you were digging through piles of expensive fabric on your own.

Nothing felt right.

“You’re really excited about tonight,” she asked softly, and you flicked your eyes toward the staff in the corner, but they were far too professional to look like they were listening while they waited for you.

“I’m not sure,” you gave up, dropping heavy garments onto the back of the couch before sitting close. “He’s a hunter, and I haven’t seen him in years. I don’t…”

“If you want Mr. Iceburg, then I will cheer you on,” your sister whispered in your ear as she stood to give her seat to the makeup artist. “But if you don’t want him here, then I’ll go shove that mouse up his—”

You laughed so hard you choked, and Kat gave you her water to sip while she tilted her head, waiting for your answer.

“Leave the mouse alone, sis,” you beamed at her, letting yourself be dolled up for your favorite shipwright.

 

~~~🌲~~~

 

Mr. Iceburg was here. He was using you. He was a leech. A monster.

Repeating those truths like a mantra didn’t kill your stupid hope, your naive ache for that gorgeous, silly man to be anything but a vulture, here to pick the flesh from the carcass of his dead friend’s family.

No favorites. No least favorites.

You couldn’t school your features, couldn’t fix your fucking face when you saw it. You wished that you could hate him for tearing down your mask like this, but it was too beautiful, too perfect.

Drawn toward the docks, it felt like the world had disappeared. You were entranced, shrinking down and down until you touched that perfect ship in a bottle, one of the small works of art that your dad had spent so many hours on.

He’d spent so many hours telling you stories about sailing on those tiny boats, hours working out the travel time between your favorite places on a ship the size of a shoe.

Daddy had asked how you wanted this ship to look and had painted it just for you. This was the little boat that he promised you would sail to the top of the Sunlight Tree Eve someday, if you could just figure out the math. If you found the top of the Eve tree, you knew you could find an Adam tree too.

At least, you had believed that when you were playing, when dad was sharing his stories, his perfect toys.

You’d smashed that particular toy boat so long ago, stomping on that sail with the Sunlight Eve Tree. There had been no more sunlight to be found after your dad disappeared.

But here it was.

“There’s my numbers girl,” Mr. Iceburg hummed, leaning down to brush a dangerous tear from your cheek. “Wanna take a tour of your boat with me? Eve's been waiting a long time for you.”

Gentle fingers, rough from decades of his craft, reached for your hand. He offered you a chance to step into a dream, and the air around you felt timeless and soft.

Laughing to yourself, you followed your dream and his little mouse onto this ship in a bottle.

Maybe I have gone mad.

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

Notes:

My "all or nothing thinking" tells me that I shouldn't interact with y'all if I'm not posting chapters regularly. Brains are dumb.

I won't promise that I can get back to my old schedule soon, but I really flippin want to. This entire story is constantly on my mind, as well as all the others I have planned that have to wait until the end. All of your support makes me so happy.

Hopefully I'll see you very soon, either by answering old ass comments that I adore, or posting Chapter 37.

I hope your dreams are lovely tonight 💜
~ Lynna ✨

Chapter 37: The Man of Your Dreams

Summary:

Your favorite shipwright has earned his private date.

Notes:

I was really nervous about this one, so I hope you enjoy it! Also, I hope my research on boats was adequate. I grew up by the ocean, but I like being on the cliffs watching the waves. I think I watched Titanic when I was too young, lol. Boats are scary 😅

~

 

Ch. 36 ~ Recap:

• Buggy felt guilt that he wasn't telling the truth of what reader had said to her sister, but asked Crocodile if he would believe him and leave her alone if he said she was happy.
• Crocodile worried about his clown, before fighting of rage at the thought that she was happy with Iceburg.
• Mihawk found a smuggling ring in Doerena and took a break from his violent hunt for information on the feed to watch his little rabbit on the screen. He thought he saw a flash of rage in her eyes, and promised to help her "paint it red."
• Shanks gained an advantage in the Hunt after speaking with the Concealer. Giberson used a jamming snail to give them privacy and offered to tell him about his competition because Giberson wanted to bet on the winning horse. Shanks learned that Iceburg and Katakuri were his toughest competition, and struggled with the fact that Iceburg didn't have much dirt on him, and didn't seem phased by his threats.
• You enjoyed your date with Ichiji, but even happier to learn that your sister seemed to be enjoying time with his sister Reiju even more. You tried not to feel hopeful, but you kept finding little moments of thinking that you might end up with a decent life. Uncle Cedrick still found ways to humiliate and torture you, but all you could think of now was the date with Mr. Iceburg. You decided that you didn't care what kind of man he was. You wanted to enjoy this.
• A flashback showed reader in her father's office while he spoke to Mr. Iceburg over snail. She was flustered by the praise Iceburg shared for her, and her dad suggested that they would see him soon. Iceburg reminded Arbo to wait until storm season passed.
• Yonji won the next private date.
• Cracker taunted the Vinsmokes until Niji retaliated, and they were both kicked out of the Hunt. Cracker encouraged reader to choose Katakuri because he likes her, and they would protect her.
• Now only Yonji is left without a private date and the only Hunters left are: Shanks, Iceburg, Katakuri, Ichiji, and Yonji.

~

Dark Content Warning:
I haven't marked any dark content for this chapter, but this is the reader's date with Iceburg. If you are hesitant to read it, I've added a detailed summary of the chapter in the end notes.

Also, I hope everyone remembers the tag/warning: Cross Guild Boys are VILLAINS. It’s been here since day one, so 🤷‍♀️

~

!!! SPOILER WARNING !!!
Fic currently contains spoilers for up to chapter 1064 or episode 1093. As we get further into Egghead Arc where our lovely boys are showing up more, there will be more spoilers as time goes on. Sorry y'all, I'm trying to keep most spoilers small details, but Cross Guild is endgame, lol.

~

Alternate POV Symbols:
🌲 ~ Reader | 🐊 ~ Crocodile | 🗡 ~ Mihawk | 🤡 ~ Buggy | 🔴 ~ Shanks | ⏰ ~ Flashbacks for listed POV | ⚫ ~ Scenes depicting Dark Content as listed in Author's Notes

Extras:
Numbers Game Tumblr Masterlist
Ongoing Series Playlist ~ YouTube Music Link ~ YouTube Link
Chapter Tunes ~ Teenage Dream (Cover) ~ Fractures | Fake it ~ Holy White Hounds

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

The golden sky cleared your mind, adding to the mystical gleam of the boat that shouldn’t exist. There were no stars yet, but the redwood trees surrounding the lake seemed like a sacred chalice, ready and waiting for the night to pour in.

“You alright, girlie?”

Your own laughter brought you back, too real, too filled with awe at the beautiful dream you’d stepped into. Time was absent until you shook yourself enough to realize that you were really here.

“She’s beautiful,” you thanked your favorite shipwright.

“You know, the best way to get to know a boat is to sail her,” Mr. Iceburg hummed as he squeezed your hand, his eyes soft while he scanned your face. “Would you feel comfortable sailing Eve further out? I checked for snails already, but I’d like to get away from the noise.”

You didn’t want the real world: the old memories and fears, or the gluttonous leeches along the shore, their squeals carrying over the light breeze.

“Why didn’t you say we’d be sailing,” you scolded with a smile. His eyes warmed at your tone, and you fought not to bounce on your toes after you kicked off your heels. “The dress I almost picked would have been a pain to sail in.”

“Mm, well, it all worked out,” he laughed, making you gasp when he pulled your hand up to spin you. “This dress suits you. Now hop to it, numbers girl, our dinner will get cold if we don’t get moving.”

True laughter poured from you while you flew across the deck. Following his instructions felt so freeing, until your body sank into old movements, coaxing the light breeze to help you drift away into the center of the lake.

You couldn’t be mad at the light sheen of sweat on your skin when he helped you tie up the sails, his lovely fingers brushing a bit of hair from your face as you finished up.

“I’ll be right back,” Iceburg promised after guiding you to the cushioned bench along the stern. Thoughts crept in too fast, and you almost ran after him while you waited under the darkening sky.

Nothing’s real. Nothing matters. Just this.

“Sorry for the wait, girlie. You still like spicy food, right?”

Mr. Iceburg pushed a pretty cart between you, and your thoughts went away again while you dined, falling into laughter and light topics to keep the world at bay.

It was such a strange, sweet feeling to be here with him.

“Would you like to take a tour below deck,” he offered. Tempted.

“Yes, please.”

You were so, very eager.

Who cares if he’s a monster, a leech? I want to feel this. Something good. A daydream to keep for later when the world goes dull and dark.

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🤡🐊🤡🐊~~~

 

Water 7 was a shit place for devil fruit users, but if she was there, if she was happy….

Buggy could find her.

I’ll just steal my ear back. Pretend it never happened.

“What do you need right now, little clown?”

“I need her to be happy.”

Crocodile wasn’t good at this.

He could spoil people, but caring for them was strange, especially when his own rage and fear sharpened his tongue too much.  

Especially after endless hours of watching her torture projected on the wall, helpless to save his sweet girl from the past or the present.

“Do you think that Sylvad is just going to let her be happy,” the scarred man growled, eyes clenching shut at the thought of that taunting voice that had kept calling Y/N at the asylum each time she tried to face her fears.

Regret filled him while he met the tired, empty eyes of his little clown, but Crocodile couldn’t stop his own pitiful bargaining, his own worthless hopes.

“Even if she wants to be with Iceburg, Cedrick might—"

“I’ll just keep listening. Until the curtains drop.”

Buggy let out a soft gasp at the touch of a large hand pulling him close, but he allowed himself to be pressed against that chest, that warm silk such a comforting sensation now.

“She loves you, little clown,” the scarred man breathed. He would not let this be defeat.

He would not let his lovers stay broken, even if he had to break his own heart, his own mind to change this.

“Of course she does,” Buggy agreed, his voice too soft before he curled up against Crocodile, letting himself be held.

 

~~~🤡🐊🤡🐊~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

The cruising sailboat was large enough for the blue-haired shipwright to stand comfortably below deck and each step into the warmly lit space sped your pulse, hardly able to hear his deep voice while he showed off his work.

“It’s been a long time, but I’ve kept her maintained for you,” Mr. Iceburg shared while he guided your hand to press along the lovingly carved embellishments that seemed pulled from your dreams and fantasies. Eve seemed to have been built from your mind before you’d lost it all.

And here he was, the man of your dreams.

You hadn’t heard a word he’d said, but you knew he was talking about his work, that slow, peaceful smile on his face. His warm hand still held your wrist, pressing your hand along the counter in the kitchen area before sitting beside you on the cushioned bench.

He was here with you, and you lost yourself when he leaned close to meet your eyes.

“Y/N, I need— “

You needed this. You needed to disappear into daydreams, so you rushed, pressing your lips against his.

It was barely a kiss, but your lovely dream shattered when Mr. Iceburg pulled himself away, out of your reach on that pretty bench he’d carved.

“Whoa, hey, girlie,” he soothed. “I’m sorry, I—”

“Why?”

The parade of stupid feelings that ran through you made no fucking sense.

He doesn’t want me.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he hurried, patting you on the shoulder. “I didn’t… That’s not why I’m here.”

Humiliation followed that little heartbreak, yet something far more palatable, but far more dangerous followed close behind.

“Just here for the berry then,” you spat,” your control shattering along with that lovely dream. “Or did Uncle promise you a few forests too?”

“Well, he did say—but that’s not…”

Fuck. Stop. Don’t let him see.

“So, you’re not a monster, just a leech.”

Sick, angry laughter escaped you. Laughter that could ruin everything.

“Y/N,” the leech breathed, that deep, dreamy voice making you want to scream.

“I should have known,” you snarled, your mind still begging you to stop, to hide. “You were never his friend, were you? Just humored the rich asshole so you could line your own pockets. Is that why you never came to visit after he… Couldn’t get shit from me until now, could you?”

The boat was too small for your rage, and you pressed yourself against the wall while you shook, grinding your teeth to keep from crying.

“I am so sorry, Y/N,” the shipwright implored, his pained face making your mind ache with too many fucking things. “I should have come sooner. I knew something wasn’t right. I knew…”

Nails dug into your own forearms to stay here, but it only worked a bit. You pulled your legs up to hug them to you and huffed a laugh at the thought of the too-tight dress you’d almost worn for him.

“Mmsorry,” you slurred, eyes looking nowhere while you gave a weak smile. “Forests are nice. Everyone can be nice in a forest. We can pretend.”

“Shh, it’s okay.”

His voice was so deep.

He didn’t touch, but he was close while your head fell back, and you hummed from the thought of your favorite shipwright beside you.

“I don’t want berry, Y/N,” that voice promised such lovely lies. “I came here to help you. Please, tell me what Cedrick’s done. I know Arbo wouldn’t want this. He wanted you—”

Danger clawed you back into the world, fear reminding you that you were real.

That you didn’t have the luxury of giving in.

Clearing your throat, you noticed the crease between his brows when you shook yourself back to reality.

“Uncle Cedrick is following dad’s wishes.” You spoke clearly, and your sudden steadiness seemed to build that confusion in his eyes. “Thank you for your concern, Mr. Iceburg, but if you do not want to marry me for love, lust, or money, then you should leave. I am trying to find a husband.”

Iceburg held your gaze too long and if you weren’t still distant, you might have caved under his silent scrutiny.

“I tried to visit,” he admitted softly.

Your dream was pulling you down, dragging you into nightmares, but you couldn’t hold your face calm and beg him to stop at the same time.

“They wouldn’t—I kept asking why you were missing, why you weren’t at the funeral, or back at school. After a few weeks, I was going to report… I should have reported them.”

He came toward you slowly, stopping before touching your hand. You could barely see him through your wide eyes, lined with the sting of tears you needed to fight.

“Then they told me about the call,” Iceburg nearly choked, the pain on his face making your fingers scrape into your skin. “Cedrick and Delaine were afraid that seeing me would trigger you because he was on his way… I am so sorry, Y/N.”

Your head was shaking back and forth as part of you screamed inside your head to run, to leave, until rough, gentle fingers finally touched your hand.

“I should have kept trying, but after Tom was executed, I lost myself in my work, in keeping his dream alive.” He bowed his head while you tried to find a way to feel. Those fingers on your skin were the only anchor you could find. “I am ashamed of my cowardice. I was afraid that you would be scared of me, that you would hate me. That it really was my fault he was out there that night…”

stop please stop please stop

There was no way to make him stop, the word unable to push through the choking pressure in your throat.

“I stopped asking,” Mr. Iceburg confessed while he squeezed your hand, “until a few years ago. One of my interns got a little too drunk and said something that made me start asking again.”

“Stop,” you hissed, too soft and slow to change anything.

“Kev said he gave up the perfect girl for his dream. That he missed her, but that he couldn’t say no to—”

“ No .”

Iceburg finally stopped, his gaze too heavy. Too real.

His voice was almost demanding now, distant, firm.

“What has Cedrick done, Y/N? It made sense with your trauma why you would wait a few years. Then I assumed he wanted you to finish school first, but you still haven’t taken over. Arbo told me he wanted you—”

“Dad wanted me to get married first, Mr. Iceburg,” you taunted, your voice teetering between a purr and a snarl. “Are you going to help me with that or not?”

Iceburg’s lips parted in gentle shock, and you laughed, fighting for control.

Another pause was so long that you let your head fall back against the wall while you counted the planks of wood above you, timing the numbers with your breath.

“I thought that might be it, although I found it hard to believe that Arbo would…. But it does confirm my suspicions. Cedrick paid Kev off, didn’t he,” Iceburg declared, his conviction making you cringe. “And your girlfriend? I looked for her after you broke up. I wanted to ask her what happened, to be sure.”

“I don’t,” you trailed off, wanting to run away from this stupid, real world.

“There’s no trace of her, Y/N. It’s been a year and half, and I still can’t find anything. Do you know what happened to—”

“She was fake,” you snarled now, angry laughter spilling from your lips when his eyes widened. “Kev was just weak, just a kid. Pathetic.”

“Y/N,” he soothed, but you didn’t let those lovely fingers touch yours again, clenching your fists above your thighs.

First love had his name back.

Second love never had one.

“I figured it out too late,” you laughed again, manic hate ripping through you along with your memories. “I tried to find her too. I didn’t want to believe it. I was an idiot. She was too perfect. She was everything I wanted, everything… She was a fucking con artist. Pretend. It’s all pretend!”

The voice that left your throat seemed to slice you into pieces on its way out. It felt like you would die from the effort it took not to fight, to hurt, not to let him see how broken you truly were.

“I am so sorry,” Mr. Iceburg sat back, his pity, and his hands rubbing along your shaking arms sinking you out of rage until stillness and silent tears were all you could feel.

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🌲🌲🌲⏰~~~

 

“I’m just going to freshen up,” you purred, pulling your hand out of your date’s insistent fingers.

“Don’t be too long,” he demanded while he snapped those fingers to get the server’s attention. “I’d like to buy you a new dress before we get to the theater. You look lovely, but that’s a little low cut for the opera, don’t you think?”

“Thank you, I’ll be right back.”

This fucker was pushing your smile to its limits, and you needed a break before you shoved his diamond-studded tie pin into his throat.

 

~~~⏰🌲~~~

 

The bathroom was a headache-inducing mix of white marble and pale pink and gold accents and probably cost more to build than your entire apartment complex. Your reflection still fit, so you calmed yourself by calculating the hours, the minutes, and the seconds until the date would be over.

It had been a while, and if you waited too long before trying, mom would start to nag you, until Uncle Cedrick would find some way to force you into another boring date with another boring leech.

“The opera will be over in about eight thousand one hundred seconds, and if it takes another half an hour to get away from him, and twenty-three minutes to get home, then that’ll be about eleven thousand two hundred eighty—”

“Wow, that sounds like a really good time.”

“Fuck, uh, sorry,” you yelped when you opened your eyes, gawking at the woman that had interrupted your pathetic whispers.

It was your server, smirking at you while she blocked the door.

“Why the fuck are you sorry?” She made a face at you, untying the long, black apron she wore over her uniform. That uniform distracted you enough that you forgot to answer, just stared at the gorgeous woman while she slinked toward you.

Men shouldn’t wear tuxedoes anymore. She owns them now; you thought with a smile.

Then your mind went blank.

“I think you deserve some fun after the shit date I just watched,” your second love tempted. She grabbed your chin, and the touch of her fingers made you gasp while she examined you. “Wanna get out of here, cutie?”

She made another face, raising a lovely brow while she dared you to say yes. There was suddenly nothing in the world but this ugly bathroom and your need to impress this stunning woman.

“Yes, but—”

“Don’t worry about that creep,” she laughed, her sultry voice sending shivers over your skin. “He won’t see us.”

Laughter bubbled out of you now, and you swallowed it down before it could echo in that marble box.

“But aren’t you working? What about your job?”

She jerked her head, motioning for you to help before responding.

“Fuck this job. You know that rich asshole didn’t even tip?”

Your second love laughed while she climbed onto the heavy side table you’d dragged below the window, and her offered hand seemed like a dream.

“Are you coming, cutie?”

 

~~~⏰🌲🌲🌲⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

There was a blanket over you when your breath finally calmed. Mr. Iceburg was still holding your hand, and you didn’t know how long you’d let yourself be lost.

“I’m sorry.”

“Gods, please don’t be sorry, Y/N,” he huffed a laugh, soft and sad. “I’m sorry it took me so long to see you. I wish I had been there for you. Please, let me know how I can help. How can I get you out of this?”

A sigh left you, true grief now that the real world had shattered your pretty dream.

“Where’s the bathroom?”

 

~~~🌲~~~

 

Your reflection wasn’t as horrifying as you’d expected. The makeup that had trailed down your cheeks along with dangerous tears was easy to wipe away, and your hair was already mussed from sailing, so you let it be.

Even after all of that, the piece of you that held that sweet crush won out. He didn’t want you, and you’d just fallen apart in front of him, but…

He was still Mr. Iceburg, and you wanted to look good for him.

“I made you some tea,” his voice found you before he did, his eyes pouring over you when you met him in the living area. He stood to guide you to a couch, and his gentle touch along your hair made you want to drift away, just sleep it all away.

His heat on the couch beside you felt so soothing.

Right now is good. Just be here right now.

“Girlie, I…”

That voice brought your eyes to his, but you wished that it would be light again.

“I don’t know if we’ll get another chance to talk like this. Please, tell me how to help you. Tell me how to stop him,” your favorite shipwright begged.

“Can you pretend?” It was barely a sound. You knew you shouldn’t try, shouldn’t hope. Hope could kill you, break you more than any pain. But the compassion that radiated from him was too strong to resist. “I need to get married. I know you don’t want me, but if we…” 

His frown drained the energy from you, so you let that hope go.

“There has to be a way to stop this, Y/N, let me help you.”

You smiled at him now, soft and true, deepening the frown on his concerned face.

“Thank you for trying, Mr. Iceburg, but I need you to leave. I will not leave this island until I get married.”

“Y/N, please. What has he done? I’ll help you. All of Galley-La will help you. Just tell me.”

Iceburg turned on the couch to grip your shoulders, imploring you to let him die for you. For nothing.

“Take me back,” you tried to command. You tried to protect this long-lost dream, this perfect man. A sick, selfish girl wasn’t worth the world losing someone like him, but you were weak, your Sylvad smile failing you when your voice cracked. “Please, I want to go back.”

“Girlie,” he breathed, and the touch of his hands on your face broke you down. Your favorite shipwright caught your tears again, pulling you against him while your silent grief left salt along his chest. “I will not abandon you again.”

Letting out a sigh, you enjoyed his touch for one more greedy moment before pulling yourself back.

I won’t be selfish again.

“You don’t need to feel guilty. Dad was out there because he trusted his numbers too much. It wasn’t your fault he didn’t wait.”

He held himself silent, but you didn’t give in this time, breathing out the pain in those memories.

“I am exactly where I want to be, Mr. Iceburg, and I will truly hate you if you interfere.”

“Please— “

“Thank you for the date, and for this beautiful gift,” you smiled as you stood. It was time to wake up. “I’m ready to— “

“Marry me, Y/N. I’ll do whatever it takes,” he vowed. You should have walked away, but the sight of Mr. Iceburg on his knees for you made you gasp. “I don’t want you to be forced into this, but if marrying you is the only way I can save you, then I will win this game. Please, let me take you away from here.”

It was laughable how pathetic you were, and the choked sound you let out made him grip your hands in his, chaining you to wicked hope.

It would be stupid to let hope in, to think you could be free. You were nearly broken already.

It would be stupid to reject the offer. If he really…

It was absolutely idiotic how disappointed you were that Mr. Iceburg hadn’t come here to take you, to use you, to let you disappear into lust and burn all of that stupid hope away.

“I don’t want you forced into this either,” you finally answered in a small voice. “Not if you don’t want— “

“Y/N, I would be a lucky man to have you by my side.” Your favorite shipwright let out a sigh, his shoulders slumping a bit while he gazed at you. “It only fuels my guilt. I left my friend’s child to suffer for years, and now that I finally have the courage to face you, I see that child has grown into… I failed you, girlie. I don’t deserve to be rewarded for it.”

His strong hands were still trapping yours, squeezing slightly as his last words came out in a rasp. You couldn’t understand, until a soft, dangerous hope flooded back in. There was no way to stop it, so you just braced for that naïve crush to crush you.

“I’m not a child, Mr. Iceburg,” you declared, surprised by your own wistful smile when you fought the urge to roll onto your toes. His eyes softened before you pulled your hands from his grip. “And I am not a reward.”

“Y/N, I…”

Just this moment. A little daydream.

He let you guide his hands to your cheeks, those carpenter’s fingers cradling your face. The sensation was enough to make you sigh, your knees going weak.

“Hey, girlie,” that deep voice poured over you. “I’m here. Please, tell me how I can help.”

Your eyes fluttered open, and you didn’t care if you were crushed now. Something sweet, almost electric, sang through your body until every piece of you was humming.

“Marry me,” you breathed, letting him see the heat in your eyes, the need in your desperate body while you swayed beneath those rough, gentle fingers. “I want you, Iceburg. This is my choice. If you want me too, please, take me. I want you to take me, to touch me, to—"

Mr. Iceburg was kissing you.

He’d pulled you against his chest while he tasted you, so slow and thorough that your eyes rolled back. He hummed at your little noises, and the sound was so deep, it left you shaking, clutching at him until you let out a yelp.

“Oh my,” Iceburg laughed when he pulled away slightly, one of his hands on your hip to keep you steady while you stared at the little creature you’d almost crushed with your desperate fingers in that striped jacket. He held Velociraptor up to the dimmed light before smiling that perfect smile at you. “I’m so sorry, I forgot to put him in his enclosure.”

“I’m sorry, buddy,” you laughed, petting the mouse before Iceburg stood, offering you his hand once again. The smile he gave you now caught your breath, offering something that you ached to have.

“There’s one more room to see, numbers girl. Would you like to drop him off and finish our tour?”

 

~~~🌲~~~

 

Biting your lip against the urge to squeal and rush toward the cabin kept you quiet, but watching Iceburg caring for his pet made you melt.

He was just so sweet. So silly. So fucking sexy.

Oh, that crush was back.

“I hope you like it,” Iceburg gestured to the cabin. The soft lights picked up the veins in his forearm along with the carved images along the walls. “Please let me know if you’d like me to make any changes—”

“It’s beautiful,” you smiled, happy to speak the truth. The cabin was stunning, so much redwood carved into fantastical creatures in magical forests. The touch of the raised wood felt so soothing under your palms; the familiar scent of the room made you feel safe.

The berth could be two smaller mattresses, or one triangular bed. The edges were together at one point, with another triangular section that you enjoyed watching Iceburg lock into place between them before he sat on the dark, green bedding.

 “Y/N, I am going to marry you, no matter what. We don’t need to—”

“Please, don’t make me say all that over again,” you teased, stepping between his legs.

He stared at you, his eyes so heavy that you thought it was over.

“What if I want you to say it again?” Your favorite shipwright chuckled when you moaned from the sound of his voice, and his strong hands gripped your waist when you swayed. “Will you say it again for me, girlie? Tell me what you want?”

“Fuck, I…”

Iceburg left his request along your ear as he breathed you in, pulling back to watch your eyes while you tried to remember how to speak.

His eyes were dark, a look you had never seen there before.

And you wanted more.

“I want you, Iceburg, please,” you begged, shamelessly begged. He kept staring, just a bit of movement at the corner of his lips while you fell apart. “I want you to take me, to fuck me. I want…”

“There’s not enough time for me to fuck you tonight, girlie,” he broke your heart with a satisfied laugh. “But I’ll—”

“Please, Iceburg,” you scolded, trying to forget the world outside of this lovely dream. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and teased your fingers along the undercut that suited him so well. “We’re getting married, so you can fuck me as slow and thorough as you like for the rest of our days, but for right now I want you to fucking take me.”

“Mm, well,” he hummed before his rough, gentle fingers teased under your dress. He took in a sharp breath, eyes darker than ever while he rubbed over your clit, your panties already soaked from him. “If that’s what my fiancé wants, then that’s what she’ll get.”

“Fuck! Iceburg, please,” you cried out at the perfect stretch of the two fingers he’d just plunged into you, sliding around your panties with a skilled touch that made you stumble against him. He sat you on one of his thighs but never stopped.

“Come on my fingers first, then I’ll give you everything you—Mm, that’s it, girlie. Fuck, you’re gorgeous, Y/N.”

“Don’t stop,” you managed to beg while he laid you down on that bed he’d carved for you.

He helped your struggling fingers, freeing you from your clothes before stripping, and your mouth was gaping by the time he crawled up the bed.

It was Mr. Iceburg.

Naked.

“Are you sure—”

“Yes, please,” you reached for him.

Your mind went blank at the touch of that perfect cock in your hands, and the deliciously deep moan it had earned you. Then you whined, when he pulled out of your reach.

“No time for that,” Iceburg teased you, and you couldn’t take it. You melted at the touch of those hands, letting him guide you where he wanted, until he was smiling down at you between your spread legs. “But I promise you…”

“Oh gods, oh f—fuck.”

The way he was looking at you…

The way his cock felt when he teased the tip around your clit before shoving into you…

“I promise that the next time I fuck you, I will be thorough,” Iceburg threatened over your moans as he slammed his thick cock into your desperate cunt. He snapped his hips up, hitting you so fucking deep that it hurt, but he had you coming again before you could care, while you scraped your nails down the lovely, purple tattoos that graced his shoulders and arms. “I will touch and taste every little piece of you. We’ll take it nice and slow, huh, girlie?”

Iceburg pulled your hips up, those incredible fingers holding you in place so he could fuck himself into you.

“Mm, you’re going to take it slow for me tonight, aren’t you?”

“What,” you managed to choke out while he changed position.

“The wedding won’t be for another week or so.” The shipwright made your eyes roll back when he brought a thumb down to dance over your clit, making you twitch while he took you, just like you’d begged for. “So, I want my fiancé to prepare for our wedding night. I want you to play with yourself tonight and every night, nice and slow, and think about how thorough I’m going to be when I fuck my wife.”

“Ice…”

“Gods, you’re beautiful,” Iceburg panted before kissing you deep, keeping you in this lovely dream. “Can I come on your pretty stomach, girlie? Mm, come one more time for me first, I know you can—So good, fuck. Right here.”

You were twitching with so much pleasure, your legs still spasming when he pulled out of you, only to press the length of that swollen cock against your skin.

It was too much. The look on his face, the praise he moaned for you, the feel of his twitching cock, and the ropes and ropes of his come that painted your skin kept you going until you went limp.

Bells rang out, far too close over the water.

“Fuck,” you whimpered.

“Don’t worry,” your favorite shipwright hummed, already cleaning you gently, and refusing to let you get up yet. His deep voice, and light kisses sent shivers down your body, but the real world was getting louder. “I’ve got you.”

You wished you could hang onto all those feelings, but it was turning gray. It would be a lovely daydream for later, but right now, you were going numb. You had to.

“Hey, girlie,” Iceburg tugged on your hand before you could leave the cabin, and you turned to find him smiling, your locket dangling from one of his lovely hands. You nodded at his gesture, letting him wrap that chain of guilt and brightness around your throat again.

Don’t think. Stop thinking.

“Looks like we were thorough enough to lose your jewelry in the sheets,” he laughed while he took your hand to guide you back to the world. “You should probably take it off next time. I’d hate to make you lose something so pretty while I fuck my pretty wife.”

 

~~~🌲~~~

 

Such a lovely dream.

If only it could have lasted forever or destroyed the world when it ended.

You couldn’t hang onto the incredible feelings and dangerous hope your favorite shipwright had filled you with, and you couldn’t follow his intoxicating orders.

Your fingers couldn’t reach for pleasure tonight.

Instead, your fingers clung to guilt and brightness while you sobbed over too many broken dreams.

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴 ~~~

 

His image wasn’t spread across a screen, but the Emperor of the Sea could feel the eyes on him while he lounged at a little table by the lake. He’d only had one bottle so far, but the stench of self-pity that surrounded him made him feel sicker than wine ever had.

Time to move.

He could have moved faster, but it would look like an attack.

Shanks could kill him.

The red-haired pirate was having too many thoughts.

Just move. There he is.

Iceburg had finally left that pretty sailboat after staying behind when Y/N was whisked away in a fluffy robe. Applause rang out from the drunk, disgusting leeches as she went.

Shanks could kill them all.

Not yet.

“So, what did you think,” the villain purred, tasting a hint of pleasure at the tension in his prey’s shoulders when he crept up behind him. “Your best friend’s daughter is so precious. So very sweet, huh?”

Iceburg rounded on him, only to meet his gaze, silent and judging.

“Or did you prefer her back then,” Shanks taunted, letting himself enjoy the snarl on the other man’s lips. His enemy pulled it in, so he kept pushing. “I had to try sooo hard not to break her, but she is an eager, little thing, isn’t she? Did you train her for us all those years ago?”

“Keep talking.”

Now it was Shanks’ lips that twitched into a snarl as he stood off against a wall of ice.

“I just thought I should thank you.” He fought not to choke the man that was besting him, and knew he’d have to walk away soon to keep from doing it. “I never did like them so young, but whatever you did to her worked wonders. Did you teach her that little—”

“Come on, boys, we’re all friends here.”

That sickeningly satisfied voice froze them both before Cedrick Sylvad stepped between them with his guards close behind. He gestured back toward the crowd, and toward the screens that showed off the rage in the emperor’s eyes, and the coldness in his enemy’s gaze.

“It’s so good to see how serious you both are about my dear niece,” the monster beamed. Sylvad threw his arms over their shoulders, forcing them to walk with him, to smile with him, as though they weren’t a breath away from violence. “Honestly, it warms my heart. I wonder if either of you will pierce hers.”

Y/N’s wicked uncle laughed, pleased with his game.

No matter how it ends, this man needs to die.

Shanks had too many thoughts.

 

~~~🔴🔴🔴 ~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

Rough, gentle fingers kept catching your eyes during breakfast, but you had to stop. Just smile, pretend, the same as all the rest.

“I hope you all come visit us after the wedding,” Iceburg hummed, his confidence raising your sister’s brows, so you faked a sip of your drink before your face could betray you. “We’ve made some improvements on the old boom boat design. I’m certain they’ll speed your logging transport for some of your smaller operations, and they are quite fun to sail. Maybe we can have a race?”

“That sounds lovely, Mayor—”

“Of course,” Cedrick cut your mother off, chuckling as he leaned toward the confident shipwright. “First you need to win this race, old friend. You must have had quite the night to be so confident.”

You had schooled your features, giving your Uncle nothing but your Sylvad Smile.

 “I came here to win,” Iceburg countered, steady and pleased while he raised his glass. “Galley-La and Sylvad’s Lumber & Shipping are a perfect match, and I’m certain that Y/N and I will be the same.”

“At least your priorities haven’t changed,” Uncle Cedrick laughed as he sent you a taunting look. “Wood before women every time, huh?””

“Water 7 is always first,” Iceburg managed his own smile, schmoozing with your Uncle while he spoke with too much truth. “But I’m here to win the woman and the wood that will help me save my home. Help our island sail to safer waters.”

“Cheers,” Uncle demanded, interrupting your spiral to make you toast your favorite shipwright. “Cheers to perfect matches, good deals, and useful, little brides. Good hunting, old friend.”

Those distracting fingers snagged yours from across the table, calming your hurt from being used. Saving Water 7 was a good reason to be bought, a good price for your freedom. You wanted to pay him back for saving you, especially if last night wasn’t really a dream.

Water 7 might be your new home.

The sudden rush of storms within you made your throat dry.

Were you willing to pay the price of freedom if it came with that storm?

Swallowing down your fears was rough with that dryness still closing your throat, but you put it all away. First, you had to survive this twisted hunt.

Then you could face the storm.

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

Notes:

Sooo, maybe one day I'll be able to talk to humans again. This hermit mode episode is quite excessive. Thank you for all of your comments. Hopefully I'll be able to respond soon. Y'all should see my text, voicemail, and email notifications, lol.

I was super nervous about this one, as the Iceburg situation could be very triggering. I hope that it didn't cause strain for anyone, but if you chose to skip it, here's a summary of the chapter. Thank you so much for reading and taking care of yourself. Please know that you are not alone, and you deserve to feel safe 💜

 

Chapter 37 Summary:

• Reader wanted to have this date, this daydream, so she kissed her favorite shipwright, only to feel rage when he pulled away. Iceburg stated that he wasn't there for that, so she accused him of only caring about money, asking if that was why he never visited after her father died.
• Iceburg confessed that he had tried to visit, that he was concerned about why reader had been missing from the funeral and school, but that he stopped asking after Cedrick and Delaine told him about her father's last call. They told him that it would be triggering for reader to see him. He stated that it made sense that reader would wait after the trauma, but as more time went on, he became suspicious since Arbo told him that he wanted reader to take over.
• Iceburg was ashamed of himself for not coming sooner, but his guilt over what happened, and fear that reader would hate him kept him away, and he lost himself in work after Tom was executed. He began asking again after one of his interns drunkenly said something. Reader resisted, but Iceburg stated her first love's name, sharing that "Kev" said he gave up the perfect girl for his dream. Reader revealed that Arbo wanted her to marry before taking over, and Iceburg shared his suspicions that Cedrick paid Kev off.
• Iceburg looked for reader's girlfriend after they broke up a year and a half ago, but there was no trace of her. Reader stopped him from saying her name, and said she had looked for her too, only to realize that she was a con artist. A flashback of the reader meeting her second love showed reader stuck in a boring date, and her second love helping the reader go have some fun, offering to help her climb out of a bathroom window. Reader was enamored with the gorgeous woman that called her "cutie."
• Reader felt Iceburg didn't want her but said she wouldn't be leaving the island without being married. When he resisted, trying to find another way, reader decided to let him go and told him it wasn't his fault her dad died. She didn't want to get him killed, but Iceburg declared that he would marry her.
• After reader said she didn't want him to be forced into this, Iceburg shared that he would be lucky to have her but expressed his guilt. Iceburg said he failed her, and shouldn't be rewarded for it.
• Reader realized what he meant, and declared that she was not a child, she was not a reward, and that this was her choice. She expressed her desire for him, and they spent the rest of the date being intimate, while reminding each other that they were going to be married in a week or so.
• As the date ended, Iceburg saw that reader's locket had fallen off in the bed, and suggested she take it off next time. After the date, reader couldn't hold onto the good feelings she'd felt that night. Instead, she held onto her locket and cried.
• Shanks waited for Iceburg and taunted him about being with the reader in the past. The heavy tension between the two hunters was interrupted by Cedrick wrapping his arms around their shoulders, stating that they were all friends.
• During breakfast, Iceburg shared his confidence and described them as a perfect match along with their companies. Cedrick laughed and accused Iceburg of caring about wood before women, but Iceburg said he cared about Water 7 first, and that he was here to win the woman and wood that would help him save his home.
• Reader realized with fear that if she did marry him she would move to Water 7, but knew she had to survive the hunt before she could face the storm.

Chapter 38: I Like Those Odds

Summary:

Tonight is the last "First Date." The Hunters each get their moment in the spotlight, while you get to know the royal family that's been trying to win you.

Notes:

Heeyyyy, look at that. Still a hermit, but fictional dialogue has to count for something 😅 I hope y'all enjoy this one, there's a lot of things in here 🥰

~

 

Ch. 37 ~ Recap:

• Buggy and Crocodile languished as the date with the CEO of Galley La began. Buggy imagined what he would do if reader was truly happy, while Crocodile fought not to let his rage spill onto the only lover he had left by his side.
• Shanks confronted his enemy again, but no matter how villainous he tried to act under the constraints of the hunt's rules, Iceburg gave him no ground.
• Reader let herself enjoy the date with Mr. Iceburg, only to discover that he came there to save her from her Uncle's wicked plans. He revealed the guilt he felt over not checking in on her after her father died, and that he looked into her previous loves when he became suspicious of why she hadn't taken over the company yet.
• Reader convinced her favorite shipwright that the only safe way for him to help her would be to marry her, and she was happy to learn that it could be more than a marriage of convenience when he accepted her desire for intimacy.
• Reader was not able to hold onto those feelings of hope after the date ended, crying herself to sleep. Then breakfast came, and Iceburg revealed to her family that part of his motivation to marry her would be to gain the resources needed to help save Water 7 from the storm that plagued it. She decided to face that fear later, after she survived the hunt.

~

Dark Content Warning:
I haven't marked any dark content for this chapter, but it's full of villains, and the plot is doing things. Please remember that this story has and will always contain dark content and themes.

Also, I hope everyone remembers the tag/warning: Cross Guild Boys are VILLAINS. It’s been here since day one, so 🤷‍♀️

~

!!! SPOILER WARNING !!!
Fic contains spoilers for current OP plotlines!!! As we get further into/past Egghead Arc where our lovely boys are showing up more, there will be more spoilers as time goes on. Sorry y'all, I'm trying to keep most spoilers small or vague details, but Cross Guild is endgame, lol.

~

Alternate POV Symbols:
🌲 ~ Reader | 🐊 ~ Crocodile | 🗡 ~ Mihawk | 🤡 ~ Buggy | 🔴 ~ Shanks | ⏰ ~ Flashbacks for listed POV | ⚫ ~ Scenes depicting Dark Content as listed in Author's Notes

Extras:
Numbers Game Tumblr Masterlist
Ongoing Series Playlist ~ YouTube Music Link ~ YouTube Link
Chapter Tunes ~ Fly (feat. Super Cat) ~ Sugar Ray | Waves ~ Dean Lewis

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

 

The feel of that charming smile on his own lips was starting to burn, but Shanks kept it up. He’d fucked up too many times since greed had taken him over. Since he’d stolen those stolen clues to the One Piece from the rookie that he’d forgotten about the second he imagined Buggy by his side again.

Always been a fucking villain.

“So, Emperor Shanks, how are you enjoying this hunt for true love? Are you planning to take your new bride to find the One Piece for your honeymoon?”

“What can I say,” he flirted with the reporter, hating how much he enjoyed the way her skin flushed under his attention. “I’m here to find myself a Queen.”

The courtyard seemed to shake beneath the weight of so many leeches sighing, their pleasure like sticky heat on his skin.

Sylvad had announced that there’d be no hunt today since the last, first date would take place this evening. Instead, he forced each hunter under the microscope, letting his greedy audience soak them all in.

Y/N sat between Cedrick and her sister, a soft smile never leaving her face while her lunch remained untouched before her. That wounded star just gazed at her hunters, and Shanks could feel those empty eyes stripping him bare, exposing him more than the massive screens against the manor.

Shanks’ shitty smile was blown up beside another screen that showed reels of the hunt. He had to fight not to stare at all the pathetic, desperate, and wicked moments the snails had captured.

His failures kept playing on a loop.

“Were you expecting to find such fierce competition?”

The Emperor’s smile deepened at the sight of his failure from last night. Luckily it was distant, but he could see his own useless rage while he leaned toward his enemy, and his eyes flicked toward the man in the moment.

His enemy’s face was still as cold and immovable as his stupid name.

“I enjoy a challenge,” Shanks nodded at Iceburg before winking at the reporter.

The girl shook herself after biting her lip, tugging her newsboy cap down a bit while the villain laid eyes on his prey again.

The wounded star was still smiling.

“I always win when it counts.”

 

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🤡🐊🤡🐊~~~

 

“He’s there to help her…”

Buggy had braced himself for his star’s pleasure, held his breath through her rage and emptiness, until his voice came out soft, unbelieving, while Crocodile’s warmth never left him.

The man not known for his patience had waited so quietly, afraid his voice would break things again. Y/N’s pain was too sharp when her old lover’s betrayals were revealed, but his little clown shared her painful story, as though giving him a target to focus that rage on.

“More people to add to our list.”

“She thought I’d be like them,” Buggy stretched, removing himself from Crocodile’s lap so he could let pieces of him shake around the suite, hands flapping and tapping, but nothing could shake these feelings out of him. “Those assholes gave her up for ShitFuck’s money. She’s so…”

“We’ll find them,” his scarred lover promised, stamping out his cigar as though he could burn it into the flesh of his enemies from the comfort of this pretty loveseat that could barely hold him.

 

~~~🤡🐊🤡🐊~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

Numbers had gotten you through so many boring events, so many mind-numbing parties and dates.

You rarely did it on purpose, but you’d often catch yourself counting, adding, multiplying. So many random things to count, to figure out, to focus on. It was relaxing, something to do while you kept that Sylvad smile on your face. Especially since you decided to keep your locket hidden today, sitting against your skin under the fabric of the dress he’d chosen.

Uncle had looked like he might snatch it from you yesterday when you were fidgeting with it in front of the crowd, and it wouldn’t be the first time he’d taken away something that soothed you.

So, without that warm metal beneath your fingers to drag back and forth, or to flip over and under the chain like a coin over your fingertips, you gave in to numbers to keep you sane.

 

~~~🌲~~~

 

One.

“How are you feeling about your odds, Prince Ichiji,” Chinode asked, the young reporter seeming a bit too excited to be interviewing your suitors.

“It’s not a question,” the red-haired prince bragged, his fingers tapping a slow rhythm onto his knee while he gazed at you. “Y/N will be a Vinsmoke soon.”

 

~~~🌲~~~

 

Two. He should be ‘four’ though. I wonder why their ‘three’ didn’t come to woo me?

“You’re the last to have your first date,” Chinode smiled, just a hint of tease in her voice. A dangerous game. “Do you have something special planned for your potential princess tonight?”

“Of course,” Yonji boasted, “I’m gonna sweep her off her feet.”

His eyes drank you in, greedy and full of an excitement that might have made you shy if you hadn’t lived through the last few months of your wild life.

Kat cleared her throat, and you caught the smirk she failed to hide. You poked her thigh under the table before she could break your concentration, your stupid, empty smile.

I guess he’s not her favorite anymore, you thought while you caught sight of Reiju’s pink hair a few tables away.

Green’s not so bad…

 

~~~🌲~~~

 

Three. Third time’s the…

Having no favorites was an impossible feat when the man of your dreams smiled at you. Iceburg did so well under the spotlight. You hardly heard a word while you schooled your features, forcing yourself to smile at him the same way you smiled at the others.

Uncle Cedrick’s eyes were always on you, watching every emotion you let slip when he wasn’t caught on his own image on the screen.

Hope was poison. Even if you followed this dream, you’d be sailing into the storm that haunted your nightmares.

You used that fear to balance your hope, hoping that your Uncle could sense none of those dangerous truths.

 

~~~🌲~~~

 

Four. The gentle not -a-giant.

A lovely death wish.

“Charlotte Katakuri,” Chinode squeaked from that little platform you’d gotten used to, although watching it swaying in the wind from your spot on the ground made your mouth dry. “Your family is known for making matches. What are you hoping to gain from this powerful pairing?”

Just as you’d known you’d been right about his smile; you were certain that your crimson-eyed suitor was scowling at her beneath that mass of feathers.

He waited long enough to reply that he interrupted whatever words she was about to try next, ignoring her to look at you with that knowing gaze.

“Family.”

 

~~~🌲~~~

 

Five. The traitor.

How was it that everyone could adore such a monster? Shanks had everyone laughing, sighing, practically prostrating themselves before him just to get some attention from that red-haired piece of shit.

That Emperor of the Sea.

Yet through all that charm, you could see the cracks.

He’s just like Uncle. He always gets what he wants.

And when he doesn’t…

“I always win when it counts.”

His threat sent a chill over your skin, but you kept smiling. 

Even if he won, if he stole you for his own selfish goals, you had a plan.

Let the monster use you until you could kill him for your star. If you failed, he’d kill you, but you’d be free of him. If you succeeded, either his crew, or the wicked sea would end your life.

Numbers caught you again, calming your thrashing heart.

Five. He’s one out of five.

Hope was reckless, but…

I like those odds.

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🤡🐊🤡🐊~~~

 

A quiet gratitude had been building for the man that was caring for his love when he couldn’t, until that peace came undone.

He knew that breathing.

“She’s okay,” Buggy choked out at his scarred lover, the man far too patient while Buggy reacted to those faraway sounds.

“I thought you said… They’re—”

“Yeah.”

The stopping and starting was making him dizzy, and soon the clown was pacing, failing to remove his body’s reaction to her need.

I’m sick. Fucking twisted.

“Little clown—”

“He’s not gonna hurt her,” Buggy snarled, tearing the plug from his ear. “I shouldn’t… She doesn’t know. I’m so fucking wrong, GODS DAMNIT!”

“Why don’t you listen to me instead?”

Sand faded, but the swell of it around Buggy had formed into that frightening man, who breathed his question along his only ear. Crocodile fisted into his hair, and the clown was surprisingly distracted for a moment when he pulled their bodies together.

“Mm, my little clown is so needy,” Crocodile rasped, dragging the lovely, desperate man toward the bed. “Didn’t I already tell you? Just tell Daddy what you want, I’ll take care of you.”

Crocodile held his breath. He had to find some way to help, something to do to keep his brave little clown from breaking, but he feared he may have pushed too far.

Buggy’s mind had gone blank except for the sweet sting of Crocodile’s grip in his hair, and the sound of his star about to come on another man’s fingers.

“I want you to take care of me,” Buggy confessed, almost laughing at those words that had started such a filthy, delicious adventure for them all.

When Buggy had said he wanted to watch, he’d already felt a taste of this, but when she said those words, when she let them have her, Buggy had learned how sick he was. Watching those villains fuck his girl dumb, tear her into little pieces while she begged for more should have filled him with rage.

Yet, that twisted clown couldn’t get enough.

This was different though. She didn’t know he was listening.

Guilt nearly dropped him again, until that very distracting Daddy shoved his tongue down his throat.

“Good boy,” Crocodile praised before lying on the bed, gently tugging his lover along with him. “You gonna let Daddy taste that ass of yours before I ruin it? You gonna sit on my—”

“Yes, Daddy,” Buggy gave a breathless laugh before dropping his pajama pants, and climbing up that frightening, welcoming face.

“Mm, come here, pretty boy,” Crocodile hummed, pulling the man down with his hand, his hook already resting on the dresser.

He’d gotten so comfortable with this little guild, but Crocodile couldn’t force himself to stress about it while those needy, crystal eyes stared down at him.

“Touch yourself for me.”

“Fuuuck,” Buggy shook while that wicked, huge tongue teased him open. He obeyed, fisting himself while he sat on that frightening face, only to realize their mistake.

Crocodile made delicious noises while he worked, but it was hard to listen to his muffled moans over the sounds of her screams.

Star, I’m sorry, I—

“Gods, Daddy,” he finally returned, that tongue taking him over the edge that guilt had barred him from.

His Daddy went wild at those delicious words, fingers digging into his hip so he could shove that tongue deeper, toying with his clown until he could feel that pulsing need.

His star had to take her pleasure quickly, her breath almost distant while she moaned.

Iceburg was fucking her so well, Buggy could almost see her beautiful face all wrecked with need.

The clown managed to grab a pillow to catch his mess, letting out a pathetic moan while that tongue kept playing.

He fell to the side in bits and pieces, amazed by the pleased look on his scarred lover’s face.

“You didn’t need to spare me,” the man laughed, pulling him against the warmth of his body. “I’d like to feel my pretty clown’s come on my skin next time.”

“Fuck,” Buggy shivered against that warmth, earning a wicked chuckle. The sudden memory of the danger that awaited him would have stolen his mind again, if not for the lack of that sacred heartbeat.

“The locket,” his clown choked, sending fear through him.

“What is it, little clown?”

Holding onto his pretty, little lover, Crocodile managed to hold onto patience. Barely.

“He gave it back to her,” the clown sighed, more guilt riding him that he’d soon hear her fulfill Iceburg’s command.

His star wanted that man so badly, it stilled his blood again, until he remembered.

“I’m sorry,” he coughed, trying to turn in Crocodile’s arms to finish their distraction, but the man held him too tight. “We can— “

“There’ll be plenty of time for that,” Crocodile soothed, breathing along Buggy’s neck until his clown shivered again. “Unless you want— What’s wrong?”

No. Baby, please.

“She’s safe, she’s just… She’s crying,” Buggy confessed, those comforting arms stiffening around him for a moment.

“Let’s get cleaned up and get some rest, little clown,” Crocodile soothed, that large hand smoothing down Buggy’s skin. “We need to stay strong for her.”

“Yeah.”

Buggy followed along, accepting comfort while a different kind of guilt trapped his heart.

He could feel the heat of her around that locket, her sobs muffled as though her fist was gripping the metal around his listening ear.

The fact that Buggy felt comforted, felt closer to Y/N while she fell to pieces, made him feel sicker than his perverted pleasure had.

It’s okay, baby. I’m right here.

 

~~~🤡🐊🤡🐊~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

“I don’t know…”

“You look pretty badass,” Kat declared as she trailed her finger over the strange, slick fabric along your arm. That smooth, shiny fabric covered everything but your head, your body encased in black and green.

It barely looked like clothes. It looked like you’d been dipped into a vat of paint.

“Well, it’s more comfortable than that leather outfit,” you sighed, glad for the silly cape this time.

At least my ass is covered.

Kat raised a brow at your snort, but she couldn’t keep her face straight.

Soon you were both laughing, wheezing, still giggling when mom returned to lead you to your next date.

Your locket was a lump beneath that skintight suit, but you hoped the number “4” on your chest would distract from it.

The youngest prince could barely speak when Cedrick presented you to him, letting the leeches drool over you almost as much as Yonji seemed to be.

It was ridiculous, but the sight of pink hair making its way toward your sister made it all worth it.

“You ready, princess,” Yonji managed to beg, kneeling at your feet.

“Yes, Prince Yonji— Oh!”

Laughter spilled from you once more, fighting not to squeal while he carried you through the air.

That suit was surprisingly comfortable against the wind beneath this golden sky.

“Just wait, Princess,” Yonji threatened, “I’m gonna show you the world.”

 

~~~🌲~~~

 

The thrill of flying sank fast once he set you down.

“Relax, pretty,” the prince ordered as he trailed a thumb over your cheek. “You’re safe with me.”

A gorgeous, green couch had been bolted to a wooden platform, but the comfort of that plush seat couldn’t hide the sway or stifle the strange need that eccentric piece of furniture had stoked in you.

Yonji had brought you to a couch at the top of a redwood tree, and sitting just above the forest was mind numbing. Somehow, sitting there was more dizzying than being carried through the sky.

“I had something made for you,” the green-haired man purred, grinning from his spot on his knees before you. His eyes dragged over every shiny piece of you until he pulled a large pouch from beneath his cape to dig through. “I hope you’re not too hungry, princess. It’s not a good idea to eat before your first go.”

“My first… No, really?”

“Please, gorgeous,” he begged, puppy dog eyes doing you in. “I’ll show you how. Just let me take these off for you.”

Fuck. Anything to get me off this stupid, green couch.

Yonji wasted no time when you nodded your consent, and soon you were giggling at his frantic, creeping fingers. He undid the shiny boots you’d been stuffed into, tickling you slightly as he trailed over your knees, your shins, tracing softly over the tops of your feet.

“Is my pretty princess ticklish?”

Wicked, curly eyebrows raised at you while he kissed just below your knee, but his fingers still held your squirming feet.

“Prince Yonji, please! You’re making me dizzy,” you pouted, holding in your smirk when you saw that you’d been right.

Making this prince melt was too easy, and watching his mouth go slack with need made your toes curl where he held them trapped against his chest.

“Sorry, princess,” Yonji rasped after catching his breath, still gazing up at you like you were his favorite treat. “I got distracted. Let me show you how to fly.”

 

~~~🌲~~~

 

“Holyshitholyshit!”

“You’re a natural,” Yonji beamed while he held your quivering hands, making you spin slowly in the darkening sky, getting too dark above the deadly tops of the trees. “I knew you’d be good, already a Vinsmoke princess, aren’t you?”

“Yonji, I— Wait!”

“I’ll catch you, princess. Show me how brave you are, baby.”

Fuck. Holy fuck.

“Fuck!”

“Look at you,” Yonji praised from below your hovering body, shifting to catch you with every stuttering move you made. “You’re flying, gorgeous! Doing so well for me. I’m gonna teach you so many things, just wait.”

So dizzy. So high.

So free.

Maneuvering still didn’t make sense, but your fear started to shift into thrills while you let yourself move through the air.

Nothing holding you down.

“This is fucking awesome!”

“Told you, princess,” Yonji bragged, still floating beneath you.

“How do I go down— Oh, fuck!”

You’d plummeted toward the ground for one terrifying moment, until you were caught, but Yonji groaned along with you. Your thin, shining suit protected you from the wind, but not from the achingly hard cock you’d slammed into when you fell, straddling him above the trees.

Heated laughter spilled from you while you let your death wish out to play.

“That felt amazing, Yonji, so good,” you purred, grinding yourself against the heavy need he carried. His whimpers and his fingers digging into your thighs made you cry out.

That lovely pressure on your clit nearly had you forgetting where you were.

“D-don’t stop, princess,” the green-haired hunter begged, keeping you both afloat while he gripped your hips, dragging you over his cock again and again.

“Please, Prince Yonji,” you moaned against his neck, nibbling on the only piece of bare skin you could find. “Your cock feels so fucking good. I’m going to come if you keep— “

More whimpers now, delicious when he let you taste them with a desperate kiss.

Your eyes rolled back when you felt him pulsing, twitching, coming in that suit of his.

“Yonji— “

“Don’t stop,” he whined. This poor, desperate prince wouldn’t let you move away, grinding against you while he twitched until you joined him.

Your body spasmed against his, moaning until you lost your breath at the sight of the stars that were too close.

“Mm, my perfect, little princess,” he hummed, making you squirm all the way to the ground while he covered you with kisses. “I can’t wait to bring you home.”

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🐈🐈🐈~~~

 

Luckily there didn’t seem to be snails in that golden sky, so the screens lost sight of the hovering couple soon enough.

Kat relaxed in her seat, until her mother shot her a look.

“I’m going to take a walk,” the sister of the star drawled, standing instead of straightening her spine at that shitty table.

“Kathryn, don’t you want to spend time with our guests?”

“It’s just a walk.” Kat took a slow breath instead of snapping.

I thought I’d gotten better at this.

“I could use a walk, Miss Sylvad. Mind if I join you?”

The pink-haired princess beamed at Delaine Sylvad, and the whiff of royalty was enough to quiet her nagging.

“Thanks for the save,” Kat whispered once they were beyond the courtyard, beyond the glittering lights and greedy laughter. “You don’t need to— “

“I brought something for you,” Reiju teased, leaning close while she lifted a large purse from her shoulder. “But let’s get away from all the eyes before you open it.”

How the fuck do her lips look like that?

Kat shook herself free from the pull of those plump, teasing lips long enough to realize what the princess had said.

“Sure, my, uh… My suite isn’t too far from here.”

It was far, but the princess only teased a little when Kat had to ask for directions to her own fucking room.

 

~~~🐈~~~

 

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask what your favorite color was first. I hope you don’t mind purple.”

Kat’s face went hot at the slow smile Reiju gave when she stepped out from behind the dressing screen. This shining suit, a more reserved version of the one the princess had donned, left Kat trying not to waddle like a duck.

Especially when the princess nudged her into an armchair while she sat her royal ass on the floor at her feet.

“Purple’s fine,” Kat breathed, holding in a shiver while long fingers tickled over her shins, fastening those miracle boots into place. “Yellow’s my favorite though.”

“Really,” Reiju raised a brow, earning a frown. “You’re always in black or green, and you don’t seem— “

“Catty bitches are allowed to like yellow, you know.” Kat couldn’t stop herself, earning a surprised laugh from the royal woman she’d just snapped at.

“Catty bitches, huh,” she smirked, offering her hand once she climbed to her feet. “Come along then, Kat. Why should we let our siblings hog all the fun?”

 

~~~🐈~~~

 

Ohfuckohfuck.

“Oh, fuck yeah,” Kat shouted, her eyes going wide as she scanned the ground for listening ears. “This is so fucking cool!”

“I’m impressed,” Reiju praised, floating effortlessly while Kat shifted and bobbed in the air over the beach. “Do you want to go glide over the water? It’s been a long time since I remembered how fun this could be.”

Kat’s eyes kept scanning, her true smile wilting at the edges a bit.

“Come on, gorgeous,” the princess tempted, flying close enough to share breath. “You’re not trapped on this island too, are you? We won’t go far.”

Those royal lashes batted up at her, and Kat was powerless against them.

“Okay,” Kat gave in, “but if I drown, I’m going to sue you so fucking hard.”

Pretty fingers interlaced with hers while even prettier laughter filled the darkening sky around them.

 

~~~🐈🐈🐈~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

A fluffy robe stole you from the breathless prince, but all you could do was laugh. You were carted past the courtyard, leeches still partying away before they cheered for you. Reels of the Hunt were still plastered against the manor, and those numbers filled your mind again.

Kat was nowhere to be seen, and you grinned at the thought of her having something for herself. Something that didn’t belong to you or your Uncle.

You wouldn’t mind being a princess now, especially if Kat might find a place in that world.

Two princes. One shipwright. One lovely, leather boy, you thought with a giggle, wondering if flying had made you high.

One out of five. Eighty percent.

Stay focused.

It was hard to scold yourself tonight. Hope would kill you, but it kept pulling at your lips while you washed your windswept hair, while you sipped on tea you’d made your mother gulp, while you laid out cards across your bed.

You knew it was never going to be your choice. Uncle Cedrick was going to pick his favorite, so you couldn’t let him see, but now there were only five suitors left.

Counting was relaxing, so you gave yourself that gift, counting cards until your eyes started to flutter closed. A pleasant exhaustion filled you, and you held that secret comfort close, the metal of the locket always warm against your skin.

No love for someone like me, but maybe… Eighty percent is nice.  

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

 

So many failures, and they wouldn’t fucking stop.

The red-haired pirate was wasting his advantage, too focused on the man that had no flaws, until he’d drank enough to train his sights on another enemy.

“Your family must need a win,” Shanks gave another pathetic attempt. “I heard all about that little wedding. Linlin got you guys good, huh? I couldn’t—”

“Don’t waste your breath, Emperor,” Prince Ichiji sneered, holding his glass over his lips while he let out his next words in a whisper, barely audible in that noisy courtyard. “We’ve already won. I hope you enjoyed fucking our little princess while you could. She’s gonna be real busy when we bring her home.”

“Hey, chief,” Benn wrapped his arm around his shoulders before Shanks could crush that smug prince into dust. “Why don’t we get some rest? The Hunt starts up again tomorrow.”

“Good night, old man,” Ichiji taunted as Shanks walked away, hating himself far more than that pompous prince.

Benn guided him to his suite, crossing his arms while he offered silent support, unable to offer true advice in this slimy, snail infested shit hole.

“Don’t stress so much, chief,” Benn soothed, patting his back when he refused to leave the couch, just pulling a pillow over his tired eyes. “You’ve got this in the bag. Just be that charming asshole everybody loves, alright?”

A mix of a laugh and a groan escaped his throat, but Shanks couldn’t think of winning.

All he could see were those empty eyes, and the looks on his lover’s faces when he would fail to bring her back to them.

That selfish Emperor almost risked it all just to call them. To hear their voices. To beg for forgiveness.

There were only four suitors left to beat.

Four obstacles to tear down.

Four men that the Great Red Haired Shanks dreamed of slaughtering that night, fitful sleep leaving him a mess, once again.

 

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🐈🐈🐈~~~

 

Kat trailed her fingertips along the calm waves, disrupting the reflection of the sky that was creeping toward night.

“You really are a natural,” the princess lifted her chin, guiding her to float higher and higher above that dangerous sea. “Kat, I have something I—”

Fuck it.

Nothing was hers.

Every time Kat tried to find something for herself, some freedom, something that didn’t belong to anyone else, it was bought, or sold, or stolen away from her so she could earn her place in the family.

The sister of the heiress had stopped trying to find her own way. Nothing would come of it, at least not until the family drama played out, but there never seemed to be an end in sight, until now.

Maybe they could be happy. Maybe sis can be safe, can take up her place.

Maybe I can have something.

Kat Sylvad pulled that beautiful princess against her, managing to stay in the air while her heart seemed to tear through her chest.

Those plump, tempting lips were sweet when Kat kissed the words out of Reiju’s mouth. Reiju was so sweet, like fruit, like candy, like that shade of that stunning, pink hair.

The princess answered Kat’s moans, and desperate hands traveled over each other’s bodies until they both yelped at the touch of the ocean at their feet.

“If I drown—”

“I’ve got you,” Reiju promised, pulling higher and higher until everything was small.

Everything but her.

“Wait, Kat, please,” she begged, breathless while she trailed her fingers down Kat’s face. “I need to tell you something.”

Kat dreaded whatever words were about to spill out, because the look in Reiju’s eyes had sent her stomach plummeting to the ocean floor.

“What is it,” she hated asking.

Those royal, violet eyes were wide, and those long, lovely fingers dug deep into Kat’s forearms while poison spilled from her lips.

“I’m so sorry, Kat,” Reiju begged, until her voice turned fierce. “I really do like you, but I’ve been trying to get you alone. I can’t get close to her, and I need you to tell your sister something for me. Please, it’s—”

“Of course,” Kat hissed, dipping toward the waves until that pretty princess dragged her back up to meet her eyes. “I’ve never been a royal errand girl before. Do I at least get a fucking tip?”

Violet eyes almost looked hurt, but they turned to steel too fast for Kat to believe it.

She didn’t want to believe this.

“Kat, you can’t let her marry a Vinsmoke,” the princess demanded, her grip painful now while her strong hands shook with what seemed to be rage. Fear. “You must convince her not to choose my brothers. Please, I can’t get close to her, you need to tell her.”

“Why,” Kat pulled away, though she could tell the princess had let her go. The strength she’d just felt made her throat dry. “Why do you care?”

Reiju flew in so fucking fast that Kat lost her hold on the air. Lovely fingers pulled her close again, and the youngest Sylvad struggled and snarled, wanting this beautiful woman to get the fuck out of her sight already.

But she was trapped, this superhuman princess clamping her arms behind her back while those poisonous lips came too close to hers.

“I care because I don’t want to have to kill your sister,” Reiju urged, her voice nearly flat, empty while she went on. “I vowed that I will never let my family create another monster. I won’t let them use Y/N like they used my mother.”

The sound of the ocean below seemed to stretch on and on, too much time in that frozen moment.

“Tell me.”

The princess let out a breath at Kat’s demand, releasing her before moving, almost pacing in the air.

“My mother killed herself trying not to birth those monsters. Dad learned from his mistake though,” Reiju spat, hatred nearly burning the air around them. “And my brothers are thrilled. They’re going to breed more monsters, and they won’t risk their brood mare fighting back this time.”

“What are you saying,” Kat hated to ask.

A wave of heavy darkness seemed to suffocate them now.

“If Y/N marries a Vinsmoke, she’ll be chained to a bed until they can tear more monsters from her belly. They’ll experiment until they make their ‘perfect’ specimen, unless she dies first.”

Kat couldn’t speak now, terror filling her throat until bile burned with it.

“They’re not going to let her escape like my mother did,” Reiju whispered now, those perfect lips quivering, the tears in her eyes seeming weak against the fury in her next words. “They’re monsters, Kat. They’ll kill me too, but I’d rather die than let more of them be born. Y/N will thank me for killing her. Please, don’t let your sister choose a Vinsmoke. Please, don’t make me kill her.”

“There’s no way in hells they’re going to take my sister,” Kat breathed, wrath sending her flying across the water to make sure that green-haired piece of shit wasn’t touching her.

“Wait,” Reiju caught up easily, joining her flight. “We need to be able to communicate, just in case. There’s too much surveillance, and my family is—”

“Yellow means things are good,” Kat panted, annoyed with the suit now that she was sweating, panic only building the closer they got. “Purple means we need to talk.”

“Got it, but what if—”

Kat rounded on her, wishing that this princess had only been a dream.

“Pink means that you grab my sister and take her somewhere safe before I tell your daddy how you plan to betray him,” Kat warned, nothing but ice in her voice. “You got that, princess?”

“Got it,” Reiju muttered, before she let Kat fly home alone.

Home.

It was never her home. Nothing about Kat’s life felt like home, except for her tragic sister that tried so hard. Her sister that didn’t mean to be the center of attention, the favorite, the star.

Kat had grown up to see things clearer than she used to. It was so very clear that Y/N was struggling, and that she’d do anything for her.

But somehow this stupid Hunt had brought out those old childhood jealousies, that shitty, selfish feeling of hating the shadow.

Fuck that bullshit.

None of that was her fault, and Kat was glad for one thing on this shitty night. Those assholes reminded her.

Nothing was hers, except for her sister, and Kat wasn’t going to let anyone hurt her again.

No matter who the fuck they were.

 

~~~🐈🐈🐈~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

“Sis, I need to talk to you.”

“Why,” you groaned, hissing softly when she nudged you.

You tried to move away from the light, only to find a playing card stuck to your face. A snort left you, helping you wake up to find Kat sitting beside you where you’d passed out on the covers.

“I already checked, but just in case,” Kat hushed, pulling a few tonedials out of her purse. Ignoring your question, she pressed them all until the suite filled with too many angry songs she’d been saving since high school.

If it wasn’t so fucking loud, you might have smiled.

“Sis, I need you to promise me not to marry a Vinsmoke.”

“Oh,” you yawned, still extricating yourself from the pile of cards. “I told you I can try not to marry your favorite. Just—”

“Listen,” Kat hissed, and the panic in her eyes shook you awake, your body almost thrumming with fear. “You can’t marry them. Reiju told me about their plans, about how their mother died. They’re going to strap you to a table and force you to give birth to more fucked up superhuman pieces of shit.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t fucking, ‘oh,’ me,” Kat grabbed your shoulders, trying to catch your eyes before they could droop. “Promise me that you won’t choose a Vinsmoke, okay? Promise me!”

“I won’t,” you told the truth. “I won’t choose a Vinsmoke.”

“Fuck,” Kat panted while she hugged you, giving a small, tired smile when she pulled away. “I’m glad you’re not a complete dumbass.”

Laughing the thoughts away, you let her tackle you again at your musings on dumbass fractions, until you teased her over her purple suit and windswept hair.

You let yourself be her sister, stuffing that other truth down deep until she drifted off.

I promise I won’t choose them, but I won’t get to choose.

Two out of five is…

Hope is fucking stupid.

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

Notes:

Thank you for reading this one! I hope you enjoyed the whiplash, and our lovely sister, Kat. Always nervous to throw new POV's in, but I've been looking forward to this one.

I'm also just wildly jealous. I would faint if I tried to talk to Princess Reiju, let alone hiss at her. 😍🦋🐈

Chapter 39: As Ruined As Hope

Summary:

The end of the Hunt looms closer, and although your sister is the only hope you should cling to, it's hard to resist your favorite Hunters. It's hard not to enjoy a second date, even while the walls are closing in.

Notes:

When I first started writing fics, I was a bit of a Plantser, but mostly the stories just unrolled in my mind as I went. (To be fair, I was in a very long mixed/manic episode when I started so that may have had something to do with all that Pantsing 🤷‍♀️). Then I decided to add Shanks to this sexy pot, and the Cross Guild party chapters got me HOOKED on Plotting. It's been rough getting back to my old writing speed with all the life things, but all of this has been plotted and outlined for months, and it feels SO satisfying to finally get it out to y'all. I can't wait to show you what comes next 🥰

~

Ch. 38 ~ Recap:

• Shanks continued to struggle with his guilt and failures, still not finding a way to use the advantage the Concealer had given him.
• Buggy and Crocodile found what comfort they could in each other while Buggy heard his star find pleasure and sorrow across the sea.
• Reader tried to fight against hope, but realizing that she wouldn't mind ending up with four out of the five remaining hunters left her feeling free, especially when one of those hunters taught her how to fly.
• Kat tried to have something for herself, but pushed that hope aside when the lovely Vinsmoke princess revealed her true goal. Reiju warned Kat of her family's plans, and vowed that she would kill the reader if she married one of her brothers.
• Reader promised her sister that she wouldn't choose a Vinsmoke after learning how they planned to use her, but reader knew it wouldn't be her choice to make.
• Now Reader's hopes had shrunk down to two out of five, and the reader braced herself. She remembered that hope was fucking stupid.

~

Dark Content Warning:
Uncle Cedrick is his own warning, y'all. I've also bracketed another recorded scene from the asylum, so please skip to the summary directly below the scene if doctors, mental institutions, or related topics are heavily triggering for you.

This is a core theme of the story, but I have done some time in those "grippy sock vacations" (both as a patient and a peripheral worker), so I know how dehumanizing and painful it can be. This story has been heavy, and I wouldn't blame anyone for stepping away or taking a break. Whether you keep reading or not, I hope you know that you are not alone. You deserve to feel safe and worthy of kindness and love. 💜

Also, I hope everyone remembers the tag/warning: Cross Guild Boys are VILLAINS. It’s been here since day one, so 🤷‍♀️

~

Extra Tags since we used them all:
#spit - The smut in here has a lot of spit. Here's your warning since I haven't tagged that before. I swear it's there for a good reason, lol 🤤

~

!!! SPOILER WARNING !!!
Fic contains spoilers for current OP plotlines!!! Sorry y'all, I'm trying to keep most spoilers to small or vague details, but Cross Guild is endgame, lol.

~

Alternate POV Symbols:
🌲 ~ Reader | 🐊 ~ Crocodile | 🗡 ~ Mihawk | 🤡 ~ Buggy | 🔴 ~ Shanks | 🐈 ~ Kat | ⏰ ~ Flashbacks for listed POV | ⚫ ~ Scenes depicting Dark Content as listed in Author's Notes

Extras:
Numbers Game Tumblr Masterlist
Ongoing Series Playlist ~ YouTube Music Link ~ YouTube Link
Chapter Tunes ~ Monster ~ Meg Myers | Lips Like Sugar ~ Echo And The Bunnymen

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

Pretend, please pretend.

Luckily, a scowl wasn’t out of place on your sister’s face, but the violence in her eyes was too vivid.

You were good at pretending. No fear or disgust in your eyes, no hint of a snarl on your lips.

Just that smile, just warm laughter, just pretending while your green-haired suitor drooled over you at breakfast.

Kat was glaring, ignoring the princess at her side while she watched you flirt with the simpering monster.

“It’s too bad she can’t leave the island yet,” Uncle Cedrick lamented. His voice had shifted enough for you to hear through the cloud of compliments Yonji surrounded you with.

That tone of torment always pricked your ears.

“Y/N just loves snails, don’t you, niece,” he taunted. Slime crept up your skin at the satisfaction on his face. “Have you seen the Germa fleet? Incredible creatures, aren’t they?”

“Yes, Uncle, they are quite—”

“It takes a specific environment to cultivate such large and intelligent snails,” Judge spoke over you, taking your uncle’s attention again. “Given your family’s diverse real estate, you may already own an adequate forest to begin your own colony.”

“You know, our kingdom can shift however we like,” Yonji bragged while he trailed fingers along the side of your neck. Kat’s eyes were burning into him, and you were amazed that his flesh wasn’t sizzling against your skin. “I’ll let you tell my snail where you want to go, and we can take my whole tower with us on our honeymoon. Where does my pretty princess want to go?”

Visions of crumbled sandcastles filled your weak mind while you smiled at Kat until the rage in her eyes calmed into casual disdain.

“Prince Yonji, you’ve already shown me how to fly,” you purred, faking a sip of your drink so you could lean away from the green haired prince. “Now you say we can go anywhere I wish? It sounds too good to be true.”

The prince’s response was too saccharine to fully take in, especially when all you could focus on was keeping everyone’s attention away from the hate in your sister’s eyes.

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🐈🐈🐈~~~

 

“Sis—”

“Sorry sweetheart, I need to borrow your sister for a bit,” their uncle cut in, cupping Kat’s cheek before nudging her out the door with the Vinsmokes.

Great.

Of course it was fake. Y/N was frighteningly good at pretending for the leeches she hated so much.

It’s just pretend. She’s going to drop them. It’s just for appearances, just for this stupid, fucked up game.

“Hey, Kat,” Reiju crept up behind her, that poisonous voice too soft. “Would you like to take a walk before the hunt?”

“No, thank you.”

Kat found her way outside to breathe some air that hopefully hadn’t touched any royal lips that day.

 

~~~🐈🐈🐈~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

So many flavors of smiles to choose from, yet he had chosen this one. Uncle Cedrick had always been a master at playing pretend, but all these years of owning you, owning everything, had dulled the skill. Or he just didn’t need to hide anymore. Too much wealth and power to give a shit about what the cattle thought of him.

Or the deer.

“Take a seat, dear niece,” he commanded, gesturing for you to sit too close before pinching your cheek. “It’s about time for a check in, don’t you think?”

“Of course, Uncle,” you smiled. His smile only grew more feral, more pleased, and you tried to brace yourself.

“Do you have a favorite yet—or is it still too early to tell,” he taunted, cutting you off before the words could leave your lips. “Well, did you at least enjoy your little fantasy?”

Nausea roiled in your gut. No matter what his next words were, your body knew they would make you sick.

Uncle looked his happiest when he was tearing you down.

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

Empty. I’m empty.

“Aw, and here I thought I was being so generous,” your uncle complained, the hurt in his voice so thin and brittle it was hardly noticeable over the pleasure. “I made sure you got a chance to get him out of your system. I hope you enjoyed getting violated by your daddy’s best friend. He's been asking about you for years, and it’s been ‘mm, well,’ so damn irritating. Did you scratch that itch of his?”

Nothing. Nothing at all.

Your ears were ringing. Your eyes were wide, but they stayed dry while you stayed still.

“Or did you already let him fuck you way back when,” Uncle Cedrick baited you. You couldn’t let him in. “Iceburg never struck me as a monster, but you always acted like such a little slut, even before your dead daddy trauma—”

“You’re the monster.”

No. Nonononono. Be empty. Empty.

STOP!

You couldn’t stop.

Ears were ringing. Body was shaking. Nails dug into your palms. Teeth bit into your cheek enough to draw a hint of iron. It was the only thing that kept you from tearing that slow, evil smile off his face.

“Are you seeing things,” he asked, but the concern in his voice was only there to trap you.  “Remember to breathe, niece. You wouldn’t want to hurt a family member because you’re hallucinating, would you? You know I’m your human uncle, not a monster, right, Y/N?”

There were tears of terror and rage in your throat, but you’d let yourself choke on them before letting him see his salty victory on your cheeks.

Pretend.

He was winning. He always won.

“Oh my, you’re not looking well, Y/N. Let me call for the doctor.”

“I'm fine.”

Fuzzy. Things were going fuzzy, and that was so much better. You just had to be a doll until he wasn’t looking.

The monster smiled as he reached for you. The way he stroked your hair might have felt soothing from any other hand, but you had to fight not to gag at his touch.

“I’m your uncle, remember. All I care about is protecting our family. I must make sure that you’re not a danger to yourself or others.”

“I’m feeling well, Uncle. I’m sorry.”

How strange. It seemed like words had left your lips.

“I’m relieved to hear that, niece. Run along now,” Uncle Cedrick gave a lazy snap before pointing toward the door. “Go fix your face for the hunt. You’ll be sending that shipwright home in less than an hour, and we can’t have you looking so sad about it.”

A pause went on too long, and he pulled your chin toward him, forcing you to keep your eyes on his.

“Why...”

The laughter that left him was sharp and satisfied, as though he’d been waiting for you to ask.

“Please, dear niece,” Uncle Cedrick scolded you, letting go of your face to tap the tip of your nose. “I know you’re smarter than that. It’s impressive how well Iceburg’s done for himself given he started out on a literal pile of trash. Still, there’s nothing that dockworker has that we can’t buy. Let him down easy though. I’d rather keep his business than buy it, at least for now.”

Empty.

“Of course, Uncle.”

“There she is,” he breathed against your ear while he dragged you to your feet, cruel hands guiding you toward the door. “My little smarty.”

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🐊 🐊 🐊 ~~~

 

He may have drunk all the scotch on the island. Bourbon didn’t quite do the trick, but the ex-Warlord couldn’t make it through this torture without some kind of burn.

Although with every night, every brutal moment he sat there helpless on the floor, Crocodile craved the kind of burn that would end this torture for good.

Something. There has to be something.

There was nothing.

All Crocodile found in those recordings was the torment he surely deserved.

He was a monster. He’d been a monster to her before he fell in love, and now he must suffer for his sins.

There was nothing to glean from Y/N’s recorded sessions except for the cruelty of the hells they were both trapped in.

“Just show me something, sweetheart,” the monster begged while his little love screamed and wept on the wall again. “Your uncle, your mother, that fucking doctor... I’ll gut them for you baby girl. Just show me—”

‘You seem calmer today, Y/N. How are you feeling?’

 

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

 

His sweet girl was quiet, head bowed before her torturer. If she spoke, that damned snail didn’t pick it up.

‘Would you like to return to your—'

‘I'm sorry,’ she choked out, her face stretching with pain before she sobbed. ‘I didn't mean to. I didn't want to... I'm sorry.’

Dr. Vorsan finally showed his slimy, pale face. Crocodile nearly slammed his hook through the wall when that trash sat at her table, dipping his head to meet her eyes.

‘Remorse is a challenging, but powerful emotion. Even the most monstrous of us can find peace after truth has had its moment.’

The child wept with such force, such pain that it tore through that frightening man until he could hardly breathe.

‘Are you ready to admit the truth, Y/N? Are you ready to start healing?’

‘Yes, doctor.’

His sweet girl should never have to beg, but he listened while she did.

‘What is the truth you've been hiding from?’

‘I'm... I'm a monster.’

No, sweetheart.

‘Why does that word feel like truth, Y/N?’

Somehow that bland face became frightening in its power. There was nothing the villain could do while he watched the doctor tear her apart.

‘I hurt it. I hurt— I didn’t mean…’

‘Are victims less hurt when their monsters don't mean to hurt them?’

He’s dead , sweet girl. All his words are ash, salted earth, don’t fucking listen.

‘N-no.’

‘You're making good progress, Y/N. Keep going. What are you?’

...

‘Keep going, Y/N.’

‘I'm a monster,’ the broken child cried out, and all Crocodile could do was smash another hole into the floor. ‘I'm selfish. I'm sick. I'm not well. I shouldn't— I can't.’

Y/N paused, her head slowly falling forward until her body slumped. She didn't react when her face hit the table with a gentle thud.

‘Good work. You can spend some time in the great room today once you're feeling better,’ Dr. Vorsan soothed, eliciting a soft groan from her still form. ‘Now that you're acknowledging the truth, we can begin to help you. You're a monster because you're sick, Y/N, but I can help you get well. Would you like to get well?’

The slurred moan that left that broken child sounded more like a ‘please,’ than a ‘yes.’

‘This is a huge step on the path to recovery,’ the dead man hummed while he patted her back, ignoring her flinch and the drool that fell from her slackened lips. ‘You should feel proud of yourself for accepting the truth. Acceptance is the only way to wellness.  Do you remember what your truth is?’

No, sweet girl.

‘I’m a monster.’

 

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

~~~

~⚫SUMMARY⚫~

 

Crocodile watched a recording of the reader in the asylum, and this time, Dr. Vorsan showed himself on screen. The reader was crying and apologized for hurting “it.” She stated that she hadn’t meant to, but her doctor reminded her that intention doesn’t make a victim less hurt.

Dr. Vorsan convinced the reader to accept the truth so that she could become well. He made her repeat that truth.

The reader stated that she was a monster, and the doctor praised her for admitting it.

 

~⚫SUMMARY⚫~

~~~

~~~🐊🐊🐊~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

Nothing matters. Nothing is real.

Smiling was easy when nothing was real.

“It’s cruel to keep them waiting, niece.” That voice filled the courtyard with laughs of derision and delight, but it wasn’t enough to pull you into the moment.

The arrow he snapped in half by your ear was enough. You gripped the shattered wood, shoving down all the images of what you could do with the broken pieces while the platform moved you, displaying you before your hunters.

Does the prey feel empty before it’s caught? When the deer freezes in place, when its eyes are wide against the threat of danger, does it feel fear? Or does everything fade away until the end arrives?

You hoped for that emptiness while you fought off the hope within you.

These hunters were far less dangerous than hope could ever be.

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

 

Doubt was his constant companion now that this Emperor of the Sea had been faced with his own wicked reflection. How could he trust anything that his weak, selfish mind craved to see? How could he trust his own choices after learning how fucking egotistical he’d always been?

What do you mean, he mocked himself while he watched the woman he’d hurt shine too bright for the pain she held. Shanks was caught on Y/N’s perfect smile, fixated on the way she pretended with every breath, every slight movement.

“Forgive me, princess, but I can’t tell you why you should let me stay,” the firstborn Vinsmoke prince crooned while he knelt at her feet. “I’m afraid that I’ve been called away for family duties.”

She was quiet, a few splinters falling from her grip while she waited for the smug piece of shit to finish.

“I have to leave the hunt now,” Ichiji confessed, kissing her knuckles while she clung to that shattered arrow, “but I’ll see you after the wedding. You’re going to be our pretty, perfect princess, aren’t you? I’ll see you at home.”

That smug, spoiled prince stood, kissing her cheek before flying away.

The leeches fucking loved it.

“My, my, what a shame,” Cedrick calmed them, bringing the attention back to his little hunt. “I wonder if Prince Ichiji was the one my niece was sending home. I suppose we won’t find out until they all say their piece. Which hunter failed to pierce her heart?”

Three more foes to tear down before he could claim that wounded star.

“My princess,” the green haired brat purred, “I’ll show you the world. Anywhere you wanna go. Anything for you.”

“I’m here for you, girlie,” his greatest foe smiled. “Let’s sail out of here together.”

“My cute, little bride.” The voice that poured down from that half-hidden face was sweeter than that sweet commander had any right to be. “I’ll take care of you, Y/N.”

It was his turn.

Shanks found nothing but emptiness in those lovely eyes, and it took every ounce of strength he had not to weep and beg at her feet for forgiveness.

But he was here to play the villain.

He wasn’t playing.

“You’re mine, little bunny,” Shanks breathed against her cheek, though his voice was captured, spread across the courtyard for all to hear. “I know you wanna keep playing with me.”

His little bunny gave a perfect smile, soft and coy, and Shanks wondered how many other bunnies had lied with their smiles. He never would have known.

Self-pity was fucking selfish, so that Emperor of the Sea ignored everything but the breaths he counted from her precious lips.

Only three enemies left in his path.

The perfect man that bested him at every turn.

The shitty little prince with too much confidence.

And the only hunter that might last more than a few seconds if Shanks could put them down the way he craved.

Katakuri’s crimson eyes flicked toward him as though he could sense the threat of death in the Emperor’s mind. Shanks huffed a laugh.

If only this battle could be as clean and clear as the violence he craved.

 

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

“Mr. Iceburg,” said a voice from your lips, a voice that didn’t break like you nearly had. “I’m afraid your arrow failed to pierce my heart.”

Your favorite shipwright ignored the shattered wood you offered, staring into your eyes as though he could see the truth behind your mask. The two of you stayed silent while the vultures made greedy noises, excited or complaining over their bets.

Finally, the man of your dreams freed you from his gaze, only to glare at Uncle Cedrick with barely contained fury in his eyes.

“Don’t be a poor sport, Ice,” your tormentor smiled, wrapping his arm around your shoulders as he leaned toward the shipwright. “Your arrow may be broken, but our bonds will never break. You’ll always be a treasured friend of the Sylvad family.”

“Of course. I will always be your friend,” Iceburg spoke to you with a steadiness that stilled your breath. The gentle touch of his rough fingers against your own was almost too much to fight against, and the kiss he left across your knuckles tore a shiver from you that you couldn’t stifle. “I’m here for you, girlie. I just want you to be happy.”

“A true gentleman,” Uncle called out, dragging you away from the man of your dreams.

None of it was real. Just daydreams.

“We’re already down to three hunters? You’ve gone through them rather quickly, haven’t you, niece?” Your uncle chuckled along with the crowd while he pinched your cheek. He pinched you harder until you pretended to enjoy his teasing.

Uncle Cedrick’s little doll.

“Do you know what this means,” he riled up the leeches, and you almost missed the fucking band striking up to build the tension. “This means that one of these hunters will be joining our family in four days' time.”

So much applause, but it wasn’t for you. You were just the bonus prize; the little toy thrown in with the Sylvad wealth and power they all coveted.

“Each will have one more night to win her, and one extra day to fight off any cold feet. Then we’ll find out which Hunter will pierce her heart.”

Katakuri knelt as your buyers were guided before you, and the music dipped, building suspense instead of romance.

How fitting.

The sick humor of it helped you to smile at them while the snails captured it all. Thankfully, you were skilled at looking just close enough to someone’s eyes that you wouldn’t have to feel them, wouldn’t risk them seeing the cracks.

“To keep it fair, we’ll be drawing numbers to determine the order of the final dates. While we get that set up, why don’t we hear from our bride to be? Chinode, if you would be so kind.”

 

~~~🌲~~~

 

The young reporter seemed even more flustered to be peeling you apart than she had the men who hunted you. Mindless garbage spilled from your lips while she tried to catch your true feelings with her questions, pausing now and then for the crowd to cry out their guesses and demands, the pleasure they took at your torment only fueling your need to be numb.

They’d probably get off on your true torture even more than this glittering lie.

“Miss Sylvad, there has been a lot of speculation about your love life over the past few years,” Chinode filled her voice with too much interest, so you deepened your smile while you waited for her attack. “You’ve managed to stay under the radar, even ‘Big News’ Morgans hasn’t reported on the heiress of Sylvad’s since—”

“Come now,” you interrupted with a haughty laugh that would make any leech proud, “your boss knows what a bore I’ve been. Although, it’s been a while since the old bird came down for a movie night. Morgans makes the best popcorn, but please don’t feed it to regular birds. His feathers would get so ruffled if I didn’t warn you.”

Interviews were sparring matches, battles that could destroy the weak, the unprepared. You’d gone far too long without practice and your stamina was running out fast.

Although the laughter of the crowd was tilting, showing you might survive this little fight.

“You might think it was boring, but I’m sure the rest of us would love to hear about your past relationships,” Chinode needled, sounding too fucking sweet. “Do the three remaining hunters have anything in common with an old flame, perhaps? Or maybe you’re regretting that there wasn’t a woman on your list of suitors? It was only a year and half ago since you were spotted at your family’s resort with—”

“I’m flattered, Chinode,” you purred for the crowd. The vultures squawked with delight when you gripped her chin until her eyes grew wide, her cheeks growing pink under the bright lights. You gave every bit of heat you could, letting Uncle's ravenous guests feast on this drama instead of the past you were sick of remembering. “I do enjoy women as well, but I’m afraid you’re too late to join the hunt. You would have made it pretty far though, cutie.”

You dragged your thumb across her lips, hating the last word from your own. Watching the reporter stammer and sway was enough of a distraction for you, and for the greedy crowd, at least for a moment.

Flirting and teasing, lying and pretending; that was the only way you’d survive.

Everyone’s a fucking con artist.

“I hope you’ve all placed your bets,” Uncle Cedrick called out over his tittering guests. He pulled you to your feet to join him at a pedestal that held a beautiful, round cage that he’d spun for effect.

Dizzy.

“Go ahead, dear,” he taunted as he placed three, wooden balls in that golden cage, each carved with a name.

The order meant nothing to you, so you spun that cage again and again until those names fell into their slots. It took you a moment to stop spinning it, to stop staring into that swirling gold.

“And here we have it,” Uncle announced, close enough to jolt you out of it. “The hunters each have one more chance to claim her, although my niece will get to choose the dates this time. Tonight, Katakuri will have her, tomorrow Prince Yonji will have his go, and Emperor Shanks has won the final date.”

Somehow the order did matter, and you swallowed down your bile as the courtyard filled with noise.

So many boring, gluttonous pigs were on their feet, stomping and toasting and squealing in pleasure. It was quite the feat that they could lift themselves up under the piles of priceless fabrics and jewels they carried on their backs. The courtyard seemed to fill with the phantoms of all the people these pigs had trampled, all the blood, sweat, and tears they had sucked from the world around them.

Leeches.

Oh, that felt better. It could be just as reckless if you didn’t leash it, but hate had never left you as ruined as hope. Now your smile tasted sweet.

If only you could spill that hate like venom from your lips, like acid to burn the world around you. Their squeals turned into cries of pain in your mind, visions of violence and terror like a soothing balm. Twisted daydreams for a twisted soul.

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🐈🐈🐈~~~

 

The scent of vanilla filled the air, and Kat was about to go violent if the crowd of makeup artists and hairstylists didn’t let her see her sister soon. Speaking privately in front of staff always felt gross, but she couldn’t even start while Y/N was hidden behind a wall of moving flesh and too many fucking smells.

“Hey, sis, I...”

Don’t do it. Don’t fucking do it.

“Fuck you, Kat.”

The middle finger Y/N flashed her made Kat’s choking laughs turn into a cackle so sharp and sweet that she forgot everything for a moment. Especially when her sister couldn’t fight off her own giggles.

“You look like a fucking cupcake,” Kat wheezed, eyes tearing up. She had to look away, the sight before her almost painfully hilarious, absurd and so fucking good.

“Shut the fuck up,” Y/N spat, annoyance killed quickly by her own snort when she caught her reflection in the mirror again.

Piles and piles of lace and tulle spilled out around her waist, soft whites and gentle pinks like so much frosting.

“Are those... Are those real fucking sprinkles?”

“No,” the cupcake squeaked, clutching at her chest while she caught her breath.

Kat found her struggling with the clasp, her hair too full of hairspray and ribbons to pull the chain of her locket over her head.

“You got this locket from—”

“It reminded me of dad,” Y/N lied softly. Even with her ridiculous makeup, Kat saw a hint of pain in her furrowed brows while she stared down at the locket in her hand. She ran her thumb over the engraved ship and its guiding star before stuffing it beneath the hot pink under bust corset that left more lace to spill over her chest and off her shoulders.

It looked like all that frosting was starting to melt.

“Don’t fucking laugh at me, you twat!”

“Twat? Did you just call me a—fuck, I’m sorry,” Kat choked, wiping more tears from her eyes while her sister failed so thoroughly at trying to look fierce under all those sprinkles and pretty, pink bows. “I just hope your lovely leather boy doesn’t eat you tonight.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t mind,” Y/N hummed. Kat’s jaw dropped, and for just a moment, she was the one being laughed at. It didn’t last long though.

Y/N looked like a fucking cupcake.

The Sylvad sisters giggled together until that cupcake was whisked away.

All that laughter faded, Kat’s face slipping into its most comfortable position. It wasn’t a frown, but it was too far from a smile for everyone she knew, except for Y/N. She was the only person that never pressured her to smile.

Until this morning.

Kat frowned then, walking through the cloud of vanilla perfume that still permeated the room. Somehow that scent had grown even stronger, and her frown twitched into a tiny smile at the thought of sprinkles again.

 

~~~🐈🐈🐈~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

Uncle had almost told the truth when he made his announcement earlier. You had been given a list of themes to choose from, but since you didn’t know which hunter would claim each date, you chose the three most public options you could.

The “theatre troupe” you had picked turned out to be nothing but clowns.

Clowns spilled out of the tent that your date couldn’t fit inside, surrounding you both with so many colors and sounds, so many silly and impressive talents.

So many fake, red noses.

Your uncle’s obsession with driving you mad was so excessive, it brought tears of laughter to the corners of your eyes. Luckily the clowns deserved a laugh, and your madness stayed hidden for a bit longer.

“You look beautiful this evening, Y/N.”

That incredible voice washed over you, but your relaxed sigh turned to a gasp when Katakuri caught a clown that had launched herself toward your pedestal.

“Do not touch her,” he commanded, eliciting sighs from the audience that were watching you more than the performers.

“Thank you.” Your voice was too high. Stupid, fucking clowns. “My sister said I look like a cupcake though. Do you prefer me in leather or lace?”

It was such an effort not to snarl at the swooning crowd. They were distracting you from what could be your last chance for…

There was no fucking room for hope.

“I know you were hoping to watch the show, but I’d prefer some privacy if that’s alright,” Katakuri asked permission, and your smile was true when you gave him a nod. “Close your eyes.”

“Oh gods,” you cried out, embracing the freedom of flying, held so gently while your date saved you from the circus. Soon there was quiet, soon there was a slightly sweet scent in the air, and your body was laid onto something so soft, so comforting, that you kept your eyes closed until you could stamp out that hope again.

“Are you alright, Miss Sylvad,” Katakuri asked as softly as his voice would allow.

You fell back onto that mochi, staring at the pale dome above you while your exhausted laughs flooded the space.

“Y/N,” your only hope asked. That sweet, sweet commander tugged his scarf down as he leaned over you, but that show of trust couldn’t break through. “Can you tell me what you need? I can’t tell what you’re going to say. You just keep laughing.”

You laughed harder, the touch of his large fingers on your powdery face making you cackle when you realized what you needed.

“Fuck,” you giggled as you wiped as many sprinkles off your skin as you could. “Marry? Or kill?”

Katakuri’s sharp brows furrowed while he watched you shake off any semblance of sanity.

Nothing was real. Everything was fucking hilarious.

Katakuri was lovely.

“That’s my life. Just a game. Fuck. Marry. Kill.” You climbed to your feet, gazing up at that beautiful death wish before you tugged at all that stupid, pink lace. “Which one do you want?”

“I don’t—”

“Pick one, please,” you begged and taunted, still fighting with the laces of your pretty corset. “Unless you want all three? Let’s do all three—”

“No.”

That stunning, forceful voice made you gasp, but your hands didn’t stop their task until he lifted you into the air again.

 “Please.”

Your voice was too soft, too real, and you tried not to let the look in his crimson eyes break through. It didn’t make sense how his grip on you could feel so gentle.

“If you truly want it,” he rasped, his fangs so close to you now, “I will gladly do the first two.”

You were nothing but melted frosting on his fingers now.

“But you will be a Charlotte,” Katakuri vowed, leaning close enough for you to feel his breath on your skin. “If anyone tries to harm you, let alone kill you, then they will die screaming.”

It felt so real.

Desperately trying to turn that deadly hope into anything else, you relaxed into his hold, your body going soft and loose.

“I will do anything for my family, Y/N,” that lovely, leather boy promised. “I need you, and I will protect you with my life. I promise you—”

“No promises, please,” you reached out, trailing your hand along his cheekbone. “Just be with me now. I want to see how husband sized you really are.”

He was so pretty, especially when that concern in those intense eyes shifted into something darker.

Hope was fucking stupid, but you’d take any moment of relief you could. Your pathetic lips parted, about to beg for him to help you forget.

“Are you sure?”

Katakuri’s voice sent your eyes rolling back. The way he held you had felt safe and gentle, but that heat in his voice was a delicious warning. He was almost three times as tall as most of the men you’d been with. Charlotte Katakuri was a beautiful death wish, and you wouldn’t mind being crushed, devoured, destroyed, so long as this gorgeous man did it right this fucking second.

“Yes, Katakuri. Please,” you dared to demand the terrifying man that held you aloft, so close to those razor-sharp fangs. “Please, let me see all of you. Show me what kind of husband you’ll be.”

Gods, his fucking voice. You were sure that he could bring you with only that heated chuckle, that hum that rolled over you like a wave.

“They didn’t need to dress you like this.” Katakuri teased his breath over your skin while you pulled free from all that lace. You were shaking when he set you down, but you managed to secure your locket around your neck before you lost yourself completely.

Charlotte Katakuri was stripping for you.

“You are so sweet,” he purred, his scarf and vest tossed aside before his huge fingers trailed down his tattooed skin toward those leather pants. “I’m not used to this feeling Y/N, but you have... surprised me.”

“What... What do you mean,” you managed to ask while you tried not to squirm like a bug at his feet.

Holy fucking shit.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

All you could do was admire the very husband-sized man that towered over you, his nude body painted with so much vicious ink. Katakuri laid on his side, an adorable, wicked smirk on that frightening mouth while he observed you.

“I came here because I had to. My family needs you,” he whispered in a voice that was too large. “I need you, Y/N, but I didn’t expect to want you.”

He laughed so deep, so perfect, while you moaned for him, already twitching when he teased his fingers around your body.

“My cute, little bride,” Katakuri praised, taking in a quick breath when you spread your legs for those lovely fingers. “Do you want me too, Y/N?”

Your answer nearly came out in a sob, but he understood.

He gave you what you needed.

“Fuck,” he huffed a laugh, bringing his fingers to his dangerous tongue before returning to your dripping cunt. “So sweet for me, aren’t you?”

“Yes, please, Katakuri,” you whined, back arching against that soft, sweet ground when he shoved one of those fingers inside of you, whining again when he withdrew.

“Taste yourself for me,” Katakuri demanded, so low and soft when he pressed that finger against your lips. Pride flared in you at the heat in his eyes, especially when he stuffed a second finger into your mouth.

Just one of his fingers had felt almost as large as a fucking cock when he’d thrust it inside of you, and now two of those fingers filled your mouth while crimson eyes watched you so closely. It seemed as though that sweet commander might actually eat you up, but you didn’t care. You licked and sucked those huge fingers, giving everything to him, everything you could.

“Drool for me, pretty thing,” Katakuri rasped, his lips parting when your nails dug into his hand. “I want you dripping, so sticky and sweet before I use you.”

Your core clenched with need so hard that it ached. Spit and slick dripped from your desperate body; you didn’t even have to try.

“Such a good girl. Look what you’ve done to me, Y/N,” he praised, leaving a trail of spit when he took his fingers from your mouth. That trail of spit felt electric when he grasped his massive, leaking cock. It was too much, but you couldn’t look away while his thumb circled over his tip, mixing your saliva with that huge bead of precum. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Katakuri laughed again, such a delicious sound while you let out another pathetic moan.

“Will you let me use you? Will you trust me?”

Did you say yes? You must have, because your crimson-eyed lover brought his face to yours, stopping your breath before warm lips ghosted over your stomach. Those fangs were so close.

“I’ll be careful,” he threatened. The heat of his breath felt too good.

“I trust you,” came your reckless truth. “Fuck!”

You were deliciously lost when his tongue found you again. Your last hope dragged the taste of your need all the way up your stomach before he teased around one of your breasts, then the other. He gave a wicked smirk when he stuffed your mouth with his thick fingers again, stifling the screams he pulled from you with his other hand.

One finger, then two, and your greedy cunt already felt so full.

“Such a tasty mess,” Katakuri praised, tearing you into pieces. With all those fingers still fucking you open, the tip of his tongue over your clit was all you needed. You drooled and gushed around his fingers while you came, and you were limp and twitching when he dragged more spit and slick across your body. “I won’t try entering you today, but I want to feel you on my cock. Can I use you?”

“Please,” you begged for anything. Anything this man could give you. “I want you—fuck, Katakuri…”

Pure danger gazed down at you, but you didn’t care while his tongue left trails from your core all the way to your neck before he sat against the wall of mochi and pulled you onto his lap. So many desperate noises left your lips at the sight of him pleasuring himself. He spit in his hand, rubbing along the back of his overwhelming cock.

“Mm, so good for me,” he praised, his deep voice gone breathy while he slid you up and down his length. “Fuck, you’re so wet. Keep drooling for me, my hungry girl, just like that.”

His veins were so fucking thick, pulsing against your core. That Sweet Commander paused his movements to let you melt, and you forgot about everything. Nothing but that silky flesh against your skin. With your core pressed against his base, that swollen tip nearly made it to the center of your chest.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

“Are you ready for me,” he asked while he nudged your locket over your shoulder until it fell behind your back. Part of you almost woke up, but the feel of him twitching between your legs emptied your mind.

Nodding for him, you let yourself make a sticky mess so you could play. The feel of his tip under your hands was overwhelming. He moaned as you dragged your hands down, then laughed as your eyes went wide.

It took both of your hands to reach around him, your fingertips barely touching while you stroked up that wicked cock.

“Hang on, little bride,” Katakuri rasped. You cried out as he dragged you down, the press of skin against your ass was fucking unreal. The feel of his balls beneath you while your clit got so much delicious pressure along his base was incredible. You almost forgot his warning.

He used you.

He used you like a fucking toy, and you didn’t want him to stop.

“Katakuri!”

“Gods... I can feel you coming on my cock,” he praised, pretty eyes going heavy with need while he bounced your body over him. You held on, still adding to your sticky mess while that pulsing flesh rubbed against your core, your stomach, your chest. “Close already, pretty, fuck. Let go.”

He laughed at your whine, dragging you off him to watch you writhing in one hand while he finished himself with the other.

“You want my come, don’t you,” Katakuri gasped, looking surprised again. “I’ll drown you next time. I’m going to take such good... fuck. Such good care of you, Y/N.”

“Please...”

You didn’t want it to be over.

Your sweet, not-a-giant lover chuckled as though he knew how desperate you were.

“I couldn’t cover you in come tonight, pretty, but you’ve been so good for me,” he praised while he laid you on the soft ground he’d made for you. “Do you still want it?”

His words had sent you reeling, but it was nothing compared to the sight of his fingers dripping with his pleasure while he brought them closer.

“Yes,” came your desperate plea, a strangled scream leaving you when he fucked those messy fingers into your mouth and cunt again. His praise, and his teasing tongue against your clit had your eyes rolling back, your limbs spasming in pleasure until he finally set you free.

It felt strange to lie on the ground beside him. He was so sweet, his dangerous mouth quirked in a smile while he stared at you, fingers soothing your skin.

“I know that if I ask, you will tell me you can’t make any promises,” your lovely date breathed, “but I hope you believe me, Y/N. If you marry me, I will protect you. I’ll take care of you. We’ll keep both of our families safe.”

The heat that grew in your throat drew your attention to the chain that had pooled onto the ground beneath your neck. It was a pretty reminder of the only weakness you could afford. No more hope, no more selfishness, just a lump of warm metal to cling to.

His brows furrowed slightly while he watched you struggle to move your body until you pulled the locket free, but he returned your smile.

“Thank you.”

That was all you could say, and Katakuri didn’t push. He just held you close against that massive chest, warmth and comfort so heady; it must have been a dream.

If it was a dream, then the few, dangerous tears that escaped you were fine. He couldn’t have felt that salt on his skin anyway. Even your shame, your weakness, seemed small. Everything was small against this large, lovely dream.

 

~~~🌲~~~

 

There were no fluffy robes tonight.

Exhaustion felt sweet, but there was no way to restore the sugary costume you’d started the evening in. Katakuri had done his best to clean his mess, but those very real sprinkles had all been licked or fucked off you.

He took care of you, ignoring the bells and the leeches while he carried you home. It was incredibly warm. It would have been lovely to stay hidden there against his chest, wrapped up in soft, sweet mochi, like you were the center of a treat he was saving for later.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” said that sweet dream. You were still protected from prying eyes when he held you up to your window. He stretched a piece of himself, his delicious power allowing him to creep into your room to open the lock from the inside.

Katakuri seemed to catch your curiosity and hunger at the thought of what else he could do with that delicious power. He chuckled while he set you on your bed, still so gentle with you.

“Goodnight Katakuri,” you sighed. He had been far more comfortable than this lonely bed. “Sweet dreams.”

“Same to you, little bride.”

His face was covered again, but you knew he was smiling. His fingers trailed over your skin one more time, and you managed not to beg him to stay.

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~

 

The blood left in the swordsman’s wake almost brought a smile to his cruel lips. Love wasn’t safe, especially not for the people in the way of his.

Dracule Mihawk had never let himself love, but his hunt through the Underworld reminded him of something else he had turned away from, something he had lost.

How long had it been since he felt this? How many years had it been since he’d settled for his title, for boredom, for safety?

The World’s Greatest Swordsman had a purpose again, a reason for being.

What a coward I’ve been...

“Please, I don’t know anything,” his newest obstacle cried.

“Stop lying,” Mihawk sneered. His prey was leaking tears and snot onto the floor while he pressed his boot against his chest. Pathetic. “Who’s your contact? Where have you been getting these fucking snails? Speak up before I tire of waiting.”

“I swear, I don’t know,” the gangster whimpered. “Just another rat, but the pay was...”

Yoru traced along the man’s body, but he stayed silent.

Except for his pitiful sobs.

“The pay,” Mihawk wondered, “Tell me about the pay. Unless you’d prefer to add blood to the puddle of mess beneath you.”

 

~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

Coffee couldn’t wake you from this dream, but you drank it down, grateful that your mother had drunk from the same pot.

Delaine Sylvad smiled at you over her mug, and you envied her that impeccable skill. If you didn’t know it to be a lie, you never would have guessed that she wasn’t a loving mother. You were good at pretending, but your mother had made it her life.

“I was hoping to see Kathryn again,” Katakuri hummed, the words snapping you back to the breakfast table he loomed over. “I brought more powdered doughnuts. I noticed she enjoyed them last time.”

No favorites.

“So thoughtful,” your uncle smiled, his mocking eyes flicking to you for just a second. “I’m sure she had some maid of honor duties to attend to. I’ll make sure she gets them.”

You fixed your face, although Katakuri’s sweet gesture wasn’t enough to stave off your guilt.

Kat deserved as much joy as she could take before your life fucked hers up again.

 

~~~🌲~~~

 

“It’s wonderful to see you again, Miss Sylvad,” the eager reporter nearly panted. The two of you were perched on that little platform, but neither the height nor Katakuri’s deadly glare could keep her from risking her life. “I have to say, you had some of us quite worried after your date last night. Not me though, Katakuri. I knew you’d take care of your little bride.”

“You were correct,” he replied, and you curled your genuine laughter into the perfect, coy chuckles that sent hums of pleasure through the crowd.

Your lovely, leather boy seemed to be practiced at handling all the attention, and it was easy to play off his reactions. Even under the weight of eyes, and the pressure of snails capturing your every fucking breath, Charlotte Katakuri helped you relax.

It was nice while it lasted.

Soon you were stuffed into another stupid costume, but your sister wasn’t there to help you laugh about it. The pointy, cone hat on your head was meant for a princess, all glittering green like your pretty gown.

The ugly hat looked too close to a dunce cap for your liking.

Maybe I look stupid enough that he’ll leave the hunt, you sighed to yourself as you were carted out in Uncle Cedrick’s carriage. Dust coated the air as the horses came to a halt, and you held your breath while you smiled at the crowd. The prince knelt before you, the golden sun gleaming off his suit of armor.

“My princess,” Yonji pressed a kiss to your knuckles. He looked at you with those hungry puppy eyes again. No such luck. “You wanted to watch a tournament, huh? How about I win it for you?”

The leeches had dressed up like peasants, although they still ate like kings while they watched the show. They cheered for your eager prince, and the noise they made when you played the part nearly knocked you back.

Yonji’s mouth went slack while you pulled a bright, green handkerchief from your corset. You were glad that you’d stuffed your locket deeper than where the stylist had stuffed this fabric between your breasts, and you hoped it would help you keep this man distracted.

“Please, take this token, Prince Yonji,” you purred, letting him kiss your fingers through the cloth. “It would be an honor to see you fight for me.”

“Anything for my sweet princess,” your hunter crooned. He tucked that green beneath his platemail before revealing that his own armor must be below that shining metal as he floated. The prince lifted you, showing you off to the crowd before placing you at a raised table above a long stretch of dirt.

All that dirt was like a fresh canvas, unspoiled and waiting.

You sat there for hours and smiled at the mess he made of it.

He was a vicious, little puppy, so happy and proud to drag the bloody spoils of his hunt to your door.

Yonji had challenged the other hunters to fight him, but they were nowhere to be seen, so the eager prince showed off his skills by fighting his own men. Soldier after soldier filed in with swords at the ready, until that dirt was kicked up, until blood turned to mud at his feet.

“What did you think, princess,” the manic hunter laughed. Other people’s blood was dripping from him, and he wiped a bit of it from his face before he hovered over the railing to touch your chin.

“You’re amazing, Prince Yonji, I’ve never—”

“Do you want to—”

“I want to see more,” you lied, grabbing his wrist while you fought your own guilt. So much blood in the dirt, and you were begging for more soldiers to take a beating. “Please, Prince Yonji. I like watching you win.”

Yonji beamed, taking your bait again and again, and you praised the terrifying prince for every cry of pain, every drop of red he spilled for you.

Nothing but monsters here.

A deep, quiet darkness pulled you in while you used this brutal game as a shield to avoid being alone with that eager prince. You weren’t supposed to be selfish again, but when you were wrapped up in another fluffy robe and carted away from all that dirt and blood, you were just grateful that it hadn’t been yours.

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

 

The clashing sound of swords was too sweet, too tempting.

Shanks had to swallow down that craving, chasing it down with whatever had been poured into his wooden mug. It didn’t help that his name seemed to have been carved into every bit of wood within his reach, always framed between the cedar leaves that branded everything in sight.

Shanks filled that branded mug again. And again.

It wasn’t enough.

“Hey, friend! How’s it—”

“I have no desire to speak with you,” his enemy drawled, and that large voice drew too many eyes.

“You wound me,” Shanks taunted. He tossed that stupid mug aside to press his hand against his blackened heart. “I just wanted to chat about... I knew it. That’s a neat trick you have there.”

Charlotte Katakuri had shifted, body going rigid before that secret had even been uttered. The Emperor was impressed with this towering haki user, but he didn’t have time to admire the talent.

He had to fix this.

“Why don’t you take me to your little mochi palace for some privacy? Unless you’d rather chat out here,” Shanks motioned to the crowd of leeches, and to the snails that captured his every failure.

Crimson eyes might have brought another man to his knees, but Shanks just smiled, chuckling when his enemy led him away from prying eyes.

“Speak.”

Katakuri towered over him, closing them inside that power of his until the world turned pale.

Shanks feared nothing. Nothing besides his own greed.

I’m the villain here.

“Well, I—”

“What were you going to say about my sister?”

Danger crackled through the air, so tempting and sweet. Violence would be less vicious than this.

“I just wanted to offer my condolences. I know how much of a beast Teach can be,” the villain purred, motioning to the scars over his left eye. “I can’t imagine your little Pudding is doing well in his care.”

“What do you want?”

Shanks almost set himself free, almost reacted to the threat in that deep voice.

“I wanna marry that cute, little bunny out there,” the Emperor hummed as he started to walk around the small, strangely sweet place. “And I want you to leave the hunt so I can take my girl home already.”

“Miss Sylvad doesn’t seem to like you,” the towering man sneered, his mouth still hidden beneath a pile of feathers. “Why would I leave her with you?”

The red-haired pirate was losing himself, letting every shitty feeling tear through him like a landslide.

How far down would he go?

“Come on, friend. You know who I am,” he scolded, watching rage flair in those crimson eyes at the condescending tone. “I’ve been meaning to pay that old bastard back for a long time, and now he’s on my path. Since I’ll be putting him down after the hunt anyway, I’d be happy to get your sister back for you, safe and sound.”

He breathed into the silence, so at ease.

“You know who I am,” Shanks finally prodded. “You know I can save her.”

“I have no reason to trust you,” his enemy noted, distance in his voice. “With Y/N, I— “

“I want that little bunny!”

Shanks almost laughed at the greedy words he’d just snarled. A true villain; entitled, pathetic, and sick. He really was throwing a temper tantrum, and he’d almost let himself slip. Instead, he let his voice turn smooth, but wicked, after that show of rage.

“If you leave the hunt tomorrow morning, I will save your sister.”

Katakuri’s posture had barely changed, but they were so close. Violence would have been better than this.

“But if you don’t let me have this little bride, then I’ll just have to find myself another,” the Emperor threatened. He tried to use the hatred he felt for himself to poison every word, to prove how disgusting and selfish he was. It was the only way to fix this. “How old is Pudding again? I don’t like them that young, but I’m sure I can train her well, if Teach hasn’t ruined her already. I am a sucker for eye contact, and I’ll take real good care of her, brother… You know I can.”

That brother stayed silent, so Shanks just held onto his smile. He would do anything for Buggy, for Mihawk, for the woman he’d used for his own gain.

Y/N.

Shanks had promised that he would become a villain, a monster, to get her back.

The monster believed his own every word so that his enemy would do the same.

 

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

It was good that Kat wasn’t here. It was better.

Your sister’s chair was empty, as was the one beside it. No pretty princesses at breakfast this morning.

Just a broken doll in a den of vipers.

Imagining Kat with a true smile on her face got you through the flattery, the promises, the lies. It helped you pretend, even when that inhuman prince wrapped his arm around you and bragged about all the battles he’d won.

“That was quite the show last night, Prince Yonji,” your uncle praised. He clapped the hunter on the shoulder, but his eyes stayed trained on yours.

What would he do without his favorite toy? His favorite doll to play with, to torment?

“Who knew my precious, little niece was so bloodthirsty? Delaine, were you aware that your daughter had such a violent heart?”

Your mother played his game, laughing and lying without saying anything but truth. She effortlessly shifted the conversation back toward the prince and his talents before letting Uncle Cedrick take the spotlight again.

Delaine Sylvad was an expert, a savant, and living under your uncle’s thumb had only sharpened her skill.

You had always been good at pretending.

I learned from the best.

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

Notes:

Welp. We've got one more date to go, y'all. What else could I possibly throw at you? (Please don't kill me for Katakuri, I'm sorry!! 😭💔🍩)

Chapter 40: One More Chance

Summary:

The Hunt is nearing its end, but it's still too early to tell who your favorite is. At least not before that red-haired Hunter claims the final date tonight.

Notes:

This one is big, and not just the wordcount. I hope you enjoy the ride! 🥰

~

Ch. 39 ~ Recap:

• Reader had to say goodbye to the man of her dreams on Uncle Cedrick's orders. He claimed that he was being generous, but that Iceburg didn't have anything they couldn't buy.
• Crocodile tried to find anything useful in the recordings of his sweet girl at the asylum, but all he saw was that fifteen year old girl breaking, and that doctor praising her for admitting what she was: a monster.
• Kat struggled to pretend while her sister had to keep smiling at the villainous Vinsmokes.
• Mihawk found purpose again, a feeling he'd forgotten. He kept up his hunt through the seedy underworld, following the trail of greed while he left a trail of blood behind him.
• Reader managed to relax and enjoy the second date with Katakuri. That Sweet Commander was too sweet, but Reader still couldn't make any promises.
• Shanks felt desperate as his failures kept growing, until he finally hit his mark. He had sworn to become a villain to save Buggy's star, yet he would have preferred violence over the threats he made against Katakuri's little sister.
• Reader managed to avoid being alone with Yonji during his second date, at the cost of his soldier's pain while he beat them bloody. She praised him, and managed to pretend during the breakfast the next morning. Neither Kat nor Reiju had joined them for breakfast, and the thought of her sister being happy helped Reader keep up her smile.
• Now, the Hunt is nearing its end. The wedding will be in two days, but first Reader must face the final date, and the red-haired traitor that wants to claim her for himself.

~

Dark Content Warning:
No bracketed scenes, but brace yourself for Uncle Cedrick and some Sylvad family bullshit. And ya know... the feels, as usual 💜

Also, I hope everyone remembers the tag/warning: Cross Guild Boys are VILLAINS. It’s been here since day one, so 🤷‍♀️

~

Extra Tags since we used them all:
~

!!! SPOILER WARNING !!!
This fic (And This Chapter in Particular!) contains spoilers for current One Piece plotlines!!! Sorry y'all, I've been trying to keep most spoilers to small or vague details, but Cross Guild is endgame, lol.

~

Alternate POV Symbols:
🌲 ~ Reader | 🐊 ~ Crocodile | 🗡 ~ Mihawk | 🤡 ~ Buggy | 🔴 ~ Shanks | 🐈 ~ Kat | ⏰ ~ Flashbacks for listed POV | ⚫ ~ Scenes depicting Dark Content as listed in Author's Notes

Extras:
Numbers Game Tumblr Masterlist
Ongoing Series Playlist ~ YouTube Music Link ~ YouTube Link
Chapter Tunes ~ Run Rabbit ~ ALT BLK ERA | Broken (feat. Amy Lee) ~ Seether

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

Run, little rabbit. Please, run away.

This island was lush, abundant, a thing of true beauty.

Yet the sight of that wild rabbit hopping through the courtyard made you want to scream. If only you could move, you would run to it, protect it from the hunters and their hungry arrows, their greedy fingers, their gluttonous mouths.

That little bunny never stood a chance.

Uncle Cedrick had already snapped his fingers for his bow, all eyes on him while he aimed for the helpless creature that was stupid and unlucky enough to interrupt him.

Looking away didn’t save you from the little horror. The image of the rabbit’s extravagant death was spread too large across the screens, and your cowardly move to look away only trapped you more.

A hunter’s eyes tore through you, and you choked down stupid hope that you might survive longer than the creature that was bleeding its life away onto the pretty cobblestones while leeches and wolves applauded its dying breaths.

Those soft, brown eyes were arrows, and you knew that you were nothing to that greedy hunter but something to capture, to claim.

You were nothing but a little bunny to him, and tonight it was his turn to win you. To claim you.

His lips curled just slightly, a wicked little smirk that would have made your skin crawl if you hadn’t been holding in every piece of yourself that you could.

The screen behind that red-haired hunter showed a servant lifting that prize into the air, blood staining all that pure, white fur.

You returned Shanks’ smile, hoping that your death would be as quick as that little bunny’s if he was the one that caught you.

Hoping you would feel his blood on your hands first.

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

 

The Great Red Haired Shanks was drowning. He couldn’t fucking hear a thing, could hardly breathe unless he could watch the rise and fall of her breath, nearly bolting across the courtyard whenever she’d hold it in for too long.

Her eyes caught his, and cruel hope filled him.

Shanks smiled at that wounded star, aching for tonight.

I just need one more chance.

Y/N’s smile was perfect. So very sweet that the leeches around him began to swoon over the berries they’d bet on him winning the lovely heiress.

Her smile was anything but sweet. That charming pirate had seen behind the mask, catching just a flash of hate shining through every glance she sent his way.

I’m gonna save you, Y/N. I promise.

“Sorry about the mess,” Cedrick bragged while he drew everyone’s attention back to himself and his twisted, little game. “I know you all have been dying to hear from our lovebirds after that delightfully savage tournament last night—”

“My apologies for the interruption…”

Cedrick managed to rein himself in, but Shanks caught that flash of rage in his eyes when the towering hunter cut him off. He didn’t seem to be as good at pretending as Y/N, at least not when someone else was hogging all the attention.

“But of course, Katakuri,” Sylvad bowed his head just a fraction while the hunter kneeled before the little stage he shared with his niece. “You’re well known for your impeccable manners, so I imagine it must be important.”

“It is.”

Shanks didn’t want to watch this. He’d already downed the sparkling wine they’d poured into another carved glass for him this morning, so there was nothing to help him swallow his shame.

He had promised to become a villain for her. It was for her. For Buggy. For Mihawk.

He had to save her.

But that wounded star had stopped breathing again while she waited for that sweet commander to speak.

Was it really for her?

She still wasn’t breathing.

It wasn’t for her, was it? I came here for Buggy. For Mihawk. I came here to soothe my own fucking guilt.

No. I came here to use her again. To get what I want.

Shanks wasn’t good at pretending, unless his own delusions counted. He had truly believed that he was a good man.

What kind of man believes he’s good? Believes he’s better than others because he does what’s right? What he decides is right?

Who the fuck am I to decide what’s right?

Even with waves of self-loathing and guilt crushing his greedy heart, that Emperor of the Sea couldn’t stop.

He just held his own breath until she stopped holding hers.

 

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

Of course. Of course, your last hope was kneeling before you. It felt like the cruel twist of a knife that you could tell he wasn’t smiling beneath those feathers. You were a fucking idiot for getting attached, for getting to know this lovely dream too well before it ended.

Katakuri’s deep voice barely reached you, hitting just enough to confirm what you already knew.

It’s over.

“I am so sorry, Y/N,” that voice failed to soothe. “I want to stay with you, to take you with me, but my family needs me now. I must protect them. I’m sorry—”

“I understand,” some alien part of you spoke. Leeches made noises over your sweetness, but you weren’t sweet. You were empty. A doll with nothing inside. “Thank you, Katakuri. I hope your family is safe.”

Those crimson eyes saw you too deep and you needed to scream. The need was so intense, it felt like the screams were tearing you apart. So close to falling to your knees,

Leave. Just leave. Go away. Please!

Family . What a fucking joke.

Fuck. Now you were about to start laughing. This was not good.

Katakuri had moved slightly, but he tilted his head while he studied you. He seemed to pull his hand away before he’d reached for you, and you were grateful when he left without another word.

There were so many words around you now. So many sticky, pointless words, some of them from your own lips.

You were hardly there while you made it through the interview with Yonji, hardly there while you praised that rabid, little puppy dog whose hands pulled you too close. Like you were his favorite chew toy.

A flash of red caught your eye, but you couldn’t look at that other hunter while you praised the one beside you on the stupid, green couch he’d brought with him.

Numbers. Counting. Math. That would help you get through this.

Three minus one is two.

Two minus one is...

One hunter would leave you drugged and strapped to another table, only this time you’d be dissected, violated, forced to birth monsters until you died.

The other hunter made you sick with hate, with disgust. The traitor that broke Buggy’s heart, that used you to steal him away, only to abandon him again. A dangerous man, a monster. Just a fucking leech that couldn’t get what he wanted from your dead father, so now he would hurt anyone in his path to tear it from your flesh.

A hunter claiming his prey, with not a thought for the pain the rabbit must feel while its heart’s blood spilled at his feet.

Either choice meant death.

Pros and cons.

You weren’t naive enough to think that you had a real chance at killing an Emperor of the Sea. Even if you did, you’d be trapped on a ship full of terrifying pirates that he’d threatened to punish you with the first night you met.

Both options were torture, but red grew in your mind. It spread, slow and thick like the blood of the man that was killed just for insulting you.

Shanks had hurt Buggy. He would hurt him again if he got the chance.

I’ll kill him for Buggy. At least I can do something for him before it’s over. If I can kill him, then everything else is fine.

But you couldn’t kill him tonight. Tonight, you would pretend, you’d please the monster, so he’d steal you for himself. Tonight, you would use him to forget the world.

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🔴🔴🔴⏰~~~

 

Red Haired Shanks was always searching. Not for treasure or glory, but for the perfect tavern.

For years, every tavern was fine, filled with bunnies and booze, laughter and ease, but every now and then he’d find what he needed.

“There you are,” Shanks whistled as he raised his mug. “You never know who you’ll run into at a tavern, eh, old friend?”

“We’re not friends, asshole,” Buggy spat, already so flustered and cute when Shanks leaned against his shoulder at the sticky bar top before he leaned away. “We’re enemies.”

“Come on, Bugs, it’s been a couple of years since last time, hasn’t it,” the redhead coaxed. It felt as though the world was falling away, nothing but that lovely clown and the unacceptable space between them. “At least let me buy you a drink. Something sweet?”

He held in his laugh at the way Buggy frowned, the way everything about him was so bright, so vivid. Shanks studied every movement until he saw the shift in those crystal eyes, and he couldn’t help but scrape his bottom lip through his teeth at the feeling of victory it gave him.

“Ugh, fine! But only because you owe me,” the clown sighed, his skin a bit flushed beneath his greasepaint while he downed his drink.

“Lead the way then, old friend,” Shanks purred. His body was tingling when he gestured toward the nearly empty tables in this shitty, wonderful tavern. Finally, the world felt right again.

 

~~~⏰🔴🔴🔴⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🌲🌲🌲⏰~~~

 

“Just follow me, star,” Buggy soothed your panicked breaths. “You know your captain will catch you, don’t you?”

“Yes, Captain, it’s just—oh gods!”

You were too breathless to pout at his smug laughter while you clung to him, the only anchor within reach. Buggy had guided your steps, holding your hands while he floated beside you, but you’d barely moved across the tightrope before slipping off, and into his waiting arms.

“Come on, I’m not about to let my flashy financial advisor go splat,” he teased, and you couldn’t hold in your squeal while he floated you in circles toward the ceiling of one of the many true circus tents in Buggy Town.

“Financial advisor’s usually work at a desk, you know,” you pleaded, closing your eyes against the striped tent that spun around and around, faster and faster. “On the ground!”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

The heat and danger in your clown’s voice sent your thoughts away. No frustration, no fear, just Buggy. Right here, right now.

“My pretty star shouldn’t be stuck on the ground,” he taunted while he floated even higher. “Will you shine up here with me, baby? I won’t let you fall too far.”

“I know, Buggy,” you managed to gasp while he tossed you just enough to shift your position in his arms. He stopped spinning to let you cling to him, wrapping your legs around his waist while you tried not to look down. “I know you’ll save me.”

Those words felt dangerous, but the look in Buggy’s eyes made everything disappear. His slow, crooked smile sent warmth through your body, even while he spun through the air again.

“Of course I will,” your clown yelled a bit too close to your ear, and you giggled before he kissed the sound away. Buggy ate at your lips, desperate for the taste of you.  His hunger pulled little moans and whines from your lips while he gripped you tighter around his body.

Still hanging on to him with your arms around his neck, you grinded against the hard length of him, always so fucking needy for you.

“Fuck, baby,” he broke the kiss with a groan. Gloved fingers dug into the meat of your ass, until he wrapped one arm around your back to hold you steady, still bobbing too high above the three rings you kept forgetting were there. Until he tugged the glove from his free hand off with his teeth, letting it fall and fall while his bare fingers teased along your thigh. “My girl’s so fucking good for me. Can I—”

“I need you, Buggy.” You had said that the night you met, that truth growing more with every moment that he stole you from the world. “Please—gods, yes!”

He was still floating, still standing in the air while you clung to him, yet Buggy managed to curl his fingers beneath the costume he’d picked for your tight rope act. He pushed that shiny fabric aside before working himself into you while your eyes watered at his wicked praise, his panicked thrusts, his pretty little noises.

You wondered how he got the leverage to fuck you like this, as though he were standing on solid ground while he held you. Then he hit so fucking deep, using the weight of your body to bounce you onto him, and you were too far gone to wonder anything at all.

All you could do was take him, take every delicious feeling he gave you. Still, as terrifying, and thrilling as fucking so high in the air should have been, you couldn’t fight against the dangerous hope that this feeling was real.

It was stupid. Naïve. You had tried again and again to shove it down, to just enjoy it while you could.

Buggy made you feel both safe and free. It couldn’t be real.

Right now is good.

“Gods, star… You feel perfect,” Buggy moaned through stuttering thrusts. “Come for me. Shine for me, baby. Just. Like. That.”

His name from your lips turned to screams while you came together, floating through space like stars in the sky. He couldn’t seem to stop his own pleasure, forcing his come even deeper inside you as though he could carve his own home within your twitching body.

“You don’t want me to stop, huh, dollface? Want me to—

No more dollface. No more Sylvad smiles.

“Hey, Star, what’s wrong,” your clown panicked when you were frozen by those hopeful thoughts. He cursed softly when he pulled himself out of you before racing down too fast. You shut your eyes against the spinning world, surprised by how many tears spilled when they closed.

Buggy caught every tear that fell, and you smiled at him when you felt him making strides across something thicker than air.

“You okay, baby?” Anxiety rippled off him when he laid you on something soft to look you over. “I’m sorry, did I—”

“I’m okay,” you choked out while you touched his hand that cradled your cheek. Relief moved across his features, but not enough. “Thank you, Captain. I’m just happy to be here with you.”

Your clown paused, and his eyes flashed with anger, with disbelief. You hated that look and all the disgusting people that must have trained that reaction into him.  

Then those crystal eyes melted, warmth seeming to fill him to the brim before he squeezed your cheeks.

“Well, I wasn’t about to leave such a flashy girl behind, but if you really feel like thanking your captain, I can think of a few—"

“Buggy!” Laughter spilled from you now, even as you struggled against his grip on your face. Your giggles slowed when he stared at your lips, brushing his thumb across your mouth. The taste of your own tears nearly stopped you, but your sweet, lovely clown kissed you before breathing his next words against your skin.  

“I like the smile better.”

The warm tears that fell now were joined by more laughter, and more dangerous hope, while he kissed your true smile again and again.  

 

~~~⏰🌲🌲🌲⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

The dress was pretty.

It felt light and soft against your skin. A comfortable sundress to enjoy a picnic under the stars. Your locket even fit the theme, but you still kept it tucked away when you weren’t fidgeting with it.

Yet, you preferred the other stupid costumes you’d been forced to wear.

“That red looks lovely on you, sweetie,” your mother gave a flawless smile. She leaned against the vanity to beam at you while her stylists finished your hair. While you tried not to bite them.

At least it wasn’t your mom dolling you up today.

Closing your eyes against your mother’s perfect smile, you fought to shove out the image of a broken doll in a red dress.

The trill of a transponder snail tore a gasp from you, and the voice that followed was worse.

“Delaine, be a dear and bring your daughter to my office. I need to check in on our little bride before the final date.”

“Of course, Cedrick,” your mother purred while she gestured for the servants to finish up. “We’ll be right there.”

Delaine Sylvad kept her smile while she led you to him. She gave you to your uncle once again, and she hummed when he brushed his lips against her cheek before she obeyed his order to leave you alone with him.

Your mother left you without a second glance. 

“My, my, Y/N, what a sight you are,” Uncle Cedrick praised. His eyes raked over you as though admiring a prize horse before gesturing toward the beautifully carved, but uncomfortable seat across the desk from his own cushioned chair. “Take a seat, niece. We need to have a little chat.”

Emptiness flooded your mind slowly, fog rolling in until the world felt dull.

Good.

“Enough of that,” he snapped his fingers in front of your face, cutting off your escape. “The Hunt is almost over, niece. I need to know who your favorite is.”

“It’s too early to tell,” you recited. His smug little smirk only proved that your instincts were right.

“Not to worry. I believe I can help with your decision,” your uncle laughed, so at ease.

Uncle Cedrick toyed with a decorative arrow that he’d displayed on his massive desk, and you couldn’t keep your eyes off it while he started tapping the side of it against his palm, gesturing with it while he spoke.

“It really is your choice, Y/N,” he taunted, twirling the arrow a bit before pointing it at you over the desk. Aiming straight for your heart. “Do you remember what your choices were before the Hunt? Did you figure out the pros and cons?”

Nothing matters.

“I can be well.” You only clenched your jaw a bit. “Or I can be unwell. And I want to be well, Uncle.”

“That is all I want, you know,” your uncle lied, his voice dipping low. It might have sounded gentle if you didn’t know what he was. “I only want what’s best for you, and for our family. That’s why I am excited to tell you about a little extra deal I made.”

He wiggled the tip of the arrow in front of your eyes, grinning as though it was all a game. You managed not to flinch, but your eyes closed against your will for a moment to fight against the dizziness the movement had caused. His smile had deepened after your show of weakness.

It is a game. His game.

“Aren’t you going to ask about the deal?”

“What’s your extra deal, Uncle,” you drowned in impotent rage.

He sat back with a laugh, bringing his pristine shoes up to rest on the corner of the desk. You were suddenly aware of the tension in your own body, your legs shaking slightly beneath that red fabric.

You shook more when he ordered the servants and guards from the room before pulling a small snail from his desk. He patted the creature, his fingers grazing the horned shell until its eyes flashed red.

“Well, I might be getting ahead of myself,” Uncle Cedrick tilted his head back and forth while he twirled the arrow in lazy circles. “Tomorrow your Hunters and I will discuss the arrangements. If they don’t agree, then they are out, but if all goes well…”

“Fuck.”

“Do pay attention, dear. You have a date with an Emperor to get to, so I’d hate if I had to repeat myself.”

An apology forced its way through your lips while you watched him sweep all that splintered wood onto the floor. Your uncle caught you slipping away again, so he’d broken that arrow over his desk, startling you back to whatever fresh torment he had in store for you.

“You have your choices,” he started, and his handsome features were finally starting to warp, a hint of the monster that only you could see. No one else saw what he was, or they were just too greedy or scared to admit it. “Now that you’re well, you will fulfill your duties as a Sylvad and marry a suitable match. You get to choose between an Emperor of the Sea, or a Prince of the Germa Kingdom. Such a spoiled, little bride.”

“Yes, Uncle.” Your voice was sweet, and you almost laughed at how skilled you’d become. It would never be enough. “Shouldn’t I be leaving for my date soon?”

“You’re quite right, dear niece,” your uncle agreed. He lowered his legs from the desk, brushing a few splinters from his slacks before smiling at you again.  “Vinsmoke Judge and his partner have some riveting plans for their new research institute. I was considering sending an offer to fund some of their ventures after the Hunt, but they proposed a deal that I just couldn’t refuse.”

You couldn’t count your breaths. There weren’t any while he left you waiting again.

“If you choose to marry the Emperor, then one of the Princes will marry Kathryn instead,” Uncle Cedrick announced, cheerful while you struggled to understand. “Such a fine match, and after all these years of waiting for her selfish sister to stop holding her back…”

“No.”

“Yes,” he mocked your desperate tone.

You were awake now, no drifting away, no escape. Just fear and denial flooding your veins.

“They’ll use her, Uncle. Those princes were born without feelings. They’re vicious!” The monster before you looked pleased while you fought to steady your voice. “You can’t give her to them. You won’t.”

“I can and I will,” Uncle Cedrick seethed, eyes wide with fury as he slammed his fist onto his pretty desk. Just for a moment, he let you see how he truly felt when something in the world dared to displease him.

His show of hatred stilled your breath, but that snarl was followed quickly by his charming, Sylvad smile.

I liked the snarl better.

You had to bite and chew the inside of your lips, sick laughter nearly ruining you again. Your uncle pressed his finger to your lips now, shutting you up.

“Please, mind the hysterics before your date,” he scolded, removing his hand from your skin to pet the horned snail again. Its slow eyes drooped, that red fading out while he studied your face.

Looking for signs of weakness.

His fingers drummed against the gleaming wood of his desk; your eyes caught on the movement. He kept that abhorrent rhythm going until you wanted to claw at him. Finally, he traced those fingers down the side of his desk until he winked in time with a sound like a snap, like something clicking into place. The painting on the wall beside you moved, the little cedar trees opening a window to another room.

An enclosure.

Uncle Cedrick hummed a cheerful tune while he leaned through the window to pet the massive projector snail. Always so many fucking snails. He guided it to aim toward the opposite wall until its eyes cast something you knew you didn’t want to see.

The selfish urge not to look was shattered when you heard her.

“Let me see my sister,” Kat demanded, the words icy with rage. She gritted her teeth, flinching away from the hand that dared to reach for her face.

Your sister wasn’t restrained. She didn’t look hurt.

Kat was sitting between two monsters on a pretty, green couch.

“Don’t worry so much, princess,” Niji purred, thankfully pulling away from her.

“Yeah, the last date is starting soon,” Ichiji soothed, unable to hold in a satisfied laugh. “We can watch your sister all night.”

They weren’t touching her right now, but you were already running toward the door when he cut the feed.

“That’s enough,” your uncle sighed while you struggled with every door out of the massive office. He’d locked you in a cage with him. “You know very well that I am not bluffing. Now, do you understand your choices, or do we need to— “

“You can’t hurt her,” you declared, willing yourself to wake up from this nightmare.

No. No. Not real. Not her.

He just smiled, gently stroking the horned snail until its red eyes glared at you.

“They’re gonna breed her! Torture her! She could die!” There was no change in that charming face. “Please don’t let them hurt her, Uncle. Please, she’s your daughter!”

Words that you’d never spoken hung in the air, and your ears rang with aching silence as though your body had tried to pull them back into you.

If only that ringing silence could have stayed to spare you from his sadistic laughter. He was still cracking up while he relaxed back into his seat, gesturing for you to join him.

“My little smarty. Did you think that was a secret,” Uncle Cedrick mocked while he caught his breath. He dabbed the moisture from his eyes as you slumped into that uncomfortable seat across from him. “I must admit, your mother and I were sloppy at best when it came to hiding our transgressions. Only a fool like my brother could have missed something so glaringly obvious.”

Uncle would have dragged you back anyway, but you fought to stay present. Only your nails on your thighs through that thin, red fabric kept you here.

she needs me

“I’m disappointed in you though, Y/N. I thought you were smart enough to keep your mouth shut.”

“but...”

“But what,” he scoffed as he leaned over the desk to pinch your cheek. You were too lost to even flinch.

“you won’t hurt her you won’t let them—”

There was no fighting it. Your body was starting to carry the inevitable future for you, although your mind was still small. Parts of you had run away, but he didn’t bother to chase them down.

“My daughter has the opportunity to elevate the Sylvad line.”

His voice wasn’t loud, but you winced at the force of it. He leaned back, his pretty shoes on the desk again, but you couldn’t let your eyes wander there. If you looked away from his gratified gaze you would disappear.

You had to stay.

“Finally, I can bring our family the respect, the honor we deserve.”

Uncle Cedrick’s mask fell just enough to show that monstrous hunger. That greed. What do you get for the man that has everything? What more could he possibly be hungry for?

It felt like it had always been you. Your pain, your humiliation, your supplication.

But your suffering was just the bonus prize.

“Arbo never cared about leaving a mark on the world,” your uncle spat now, his revulsion growing with every word. “No ambition. No pride. He rejected every opportunity to lift our family name above the merchant class. No, my idiot brother just wanted to spoil his selfish, little numbers girl.”

“stop”

He would never stop. He kept going, even as your body started rocking back and forth, breaths going heavy and wrong.

“Your daddy was always weak-willed. Pathetic.” Uncle laughed at the tiny sob that escaped your lips, even while you chewed on your flesh to keep them shut. “Arbo’s obsession with you held us all back, Y/N. It even got him killed. That sentimental fool couldn’t even wait a fucking week to fetch his ungrateful brat a toy boat—"

“please”

Broken doll.

Broken sobs tore through you now, and you curled in on yourself. Breathing hurt, you couldn’t see, couldn’t hear over the horrible, broken noises.

nothing now nothing now nothing—

“Stop crying.”

Dolls should be quiet and still, so that’s what you were. Just a doll when he knelt beside you. Not real when he touched your face, sneering at the pathetic tears on your skin.

Uncle Cedrick held his broken doll by the chin, but his words couldn’t hurt something that wasn’t real.

not real

can’t feel

“The choice is yours, dear niece,” came a voice that meant nothing. “Marry a Vinsmoke, or your sister will take your place. If you don’t want the pirate then you know what your options are, but Kathryn will wed one of those princes if you don’t.”

One more burning tear stained your cheek while his fingers pressed just a bit more into your skin, still careful not to tarnish his little doll. Your uncle never needed to use his hands to hurt you. He’d broken you just fine with his words.

Now he had trapped you into this reality, this world that he owned, because you couldn’t let yourself slip into nothingness. You couldn’t be that selfish again.

“I’ll marry Yonji,” you spoke with a voice like your mother’s, “but only if they let Kat go. They can’t touch her.”

Uncle Cedrick patted you on the head when he stood, and you counted your breaths while he picked up his transponder snail from its decorative table. He sat in his comfortable chair, placing the snail he’d dressed to match his own image beside the horned snail that was beginning to slump while its eyes still flashed red.

“Kat will be staying with her future brothers in law until your vows have been sealed,” he declared, the threat sending fresh terror to rip through your heart.

He stroked the horned snail again to let it rest. His fleeting mercy was given only to the toys that bent to his will.

“Don’t fret though, niece. I won’t let my daughter become anyone’s mistress, not even a prince. She’ll never be a cheap whore like your mother. Speaking of,” your uncle trailed off before making a call, your mother’s, ‘hello, Cedrick,’ floating from the snail’s sticky lips. “Delaine, dear, please come tend to your daughter. She could use some freshening up before the big night, and we can’t have her running late.”

You stayed here. Distant, but not empty. Suffocating with a gentle smile while your mother dolled you up.

“Don’t forget the rules of the Hunt, dear niece,” Uncle Cedrick reminded you as he guided you to the courtyard. “Our guests are here to have fun, so be sure to show the Emperor a good time. Can you do that, smarty.”

“Yes, Uncle.”

 

~~~🌲~~~

 

There were no stars out yet, but you stared into the golden sky all the same. Your pretty dress and the picnic blanket beneath you did nothing to keep the gentle breeze from sending shivers over your skin.

The theme of this date was crueler than your uncle could have known, but it was your own fault for choosing it from the list. Another opportunity to torture yourself, and now you wallowed in it.

Stargazing.

Waves and waves of grief poured through you while that darkening sky revealed each star like a mirage. Hope had done nothing but torment you, yet you couldn’t wish it away.

You had felt true love before meeting your fate. If your sister was safe, then everything was worth it.

Bargaining with the stars above while distant eyes enjoyed the show was a balancing act. It took all your strength to keep your pitiful cries inside. No matter how many times you tried to push it down, your mind went back. Back to that strange, little island you’d almost called home.

The steadiness you held impressed even you. It almost pushed you into laughter, until guilt finally won out over grief.

Buggy had given you so much. All you’d given him were lies and betrayal. You had abandoned him just like all the rest, and now you couldn’t even die for him. You couldn’t kill the monster that hurt him.

You couldn’t stop your disgusting desire to betray him again.

Pretty, shining stars were dancing above you now, yet you kept your relaxed position, not even digging your nails into your palms. Those stars dug into you instead. They pierced through your sick heart while you tried to soothe your own guilt, and you clung to that beautiful locket while you gave yourself permission to hate yourself even more.

Pretend. That was all. Just one more night to pretend.

One more night to forget the world, even if it meant letting that traitor use you again, for no other reason than to numb your own pain.

Selfish. I never deserved you, Buggy. I wish I could kill him for you, but I… I wish—

A shooting star cleared your mind for one, shining moment.

Why is it so dark?

“Hey there, little bunny. Sorry about the wait,” said a domineering pirate that knocked over the basket of food when he walked across the picnic blanket.

The leeches were loving the chaos, and the growing chill in the air made you aware of how long you must have been lying there. That Emperor of the Sea was late, and he’d left you for the vultures to pick at, squawking with pleasure while you’d been fighting not to cry.

He was still late.

“The chief didn’t feel like stargazing, so we set up his tent for your date instead. Hope you don’t mind.”

That tall gruff man offered his hand, and you were too foggy to resist. A few strands of his long gray hair fell over his eyes while he got you to your feet, but he only shook them aside. He kept his warm hands on you, smirking when he caught your eyes widening at the impressive flex of muscles across his arms and chest.

“The name’s Benn,” he shared with too much heat in his voice. That name spiked your heart rate, even more now as he lifted your chin to meet his gaze, pulling you against him.

Leeches were louder, but there were more voices close by that you couldn’t make sense of yet.

“Don’t be scared,” Benn scolded when you tried to step away. “The crew’s only here to make sure your date doesn’t get interrupted.”

“Yeah, the Captain’s got big plans for you,” shouted a deep voice from behind you. It was too close, and more taunting hollers and whistles followed.

Somehow, humiliation broke through your guilt and grief, and you gave another useless attempt to get out of this man’s reach.

“What do you mean,” you growled, too much rage in your voice.

“That’s a question for Shanks, bunny girl. I’m just the delivery man,” Benn shrugged, his eyes still heavy on your skin. Then the overwhelming pirate threw you over his shoulder and ran, to riotous applause and laughter. The Red Hair Pirates flanked you, teasing and taunting along the way.

Benn moved so fast that you almost missed it while you struggled in his arms. He’d placed one of those muscular hands on your ass, smoothing down the thin, red fabric of the sundress while he charged on. The image of his groping touch was blown up across the screens for all the guests to revel in. They gorged on your humiliation, still cheering and jeering so loudly you could hear them through the forest he’d carried you into.

Maybe I can kill him tonight.

That vengeful thought was doused quickly by the memory of your waiting sister, so you had to swallow it down. Remember your place.

This world belonged to greedy, monstrous men like your uncle, and like this Emperor that had ordered for you to be delivered to him like a meal. The Hunter and the prey whose blood would stain his hands while he feasted on its flesh.

Might as well close your eyes and try to enjoy it. You knew what this hunter could do, and the threat of danger reminded you of how sick you were.

Breaking out of the tree line again, you recognized this rolling set of hills, even though you could only see behind your captor while you bounced over his shoulder.

So many scrapes, bruises, and grass stains had followed you and your sister home from the spot you’d named, “Upside Down Hill.” The two of you would roll down the slope again and again into the basin-like stretch of grass until it was filled with laughter and squeals. It was surrounded by hills, just more piles of dirt, but that dip in the world had always felt a bit special. Magical.

That had to be where you were headed when Benn’s steps tilted down, as though you were descending into the earth itself.

You weren’t.

You were carried like a sack of potatoes through the thick flaps of a tent, the scent of the traitor filling that warm space.

“Package for you, chief,” Benn grunted as he tossed you onto a bed in the center of the large, captain’s tent. If you weren’t too busy catching your breath and trying not to flash him while you sat up, you would have bitten the fingers he ruffled through your hair. “Ooh, look at that fire. You didn’t tell me you caught a bratty, little bunny.”

“Out,” Shanks ordered, and the power behind that single, quiet demand made you freeze like prey, yet again. Your anger meant nothing against such a beast. “Make sure no one’s within earshot. Bunny and I need some privacy tonight.”

“Aye, chief,” Benn submitted as he turned to leave, his job complete. That older, powerful pirate nodded in deference toward the hunter that held your gaze.

Shanks’ eyes weren’t soft. He stared at your heaving chest while he lounged on a pretty, red chair; your body was still frozen except for the desperate breaths that pounded through you. Every instinct told you to run.

Run away.

There was no point in running anymore. Just let the beast devour you one more time. Just stop thinking, just feel something before you married a fate worse than death.

He kept you waiting in silence long enough that you broke loose, aching to feel anything but this. You crawled across the bed toward him, ready to beg. Shanks went to his knees, and you nearly wept with need, but he avoided your greedy hands to pull a small box from under the bed.

“You kept me waiting out in the cold quite a while, Emperor,” you purred, pushing that red fabric higher up your thighs while your fingers traced along the skin. His eyes were frightening now, but you didn’t care. Nothing mattered. “I thought you were going to keep me warm.”

Shanks clenched his jaw as he looked down at the box, setting its contents onto the red chair while he slumped onto the worn rug beside it.

Confusion and terror filled you in equal measure while the traitor patted the little, horned snail.

A jamming snail.

What more was this monster planning to do to you that he’d need this much privacy? Surely, he’d save any real punishments for after he owned you. The presence of his crew in the surrounding hills made your mouth dry, but the memory of his manic eyes while he’d played with you didn’t fit with whatever was on his face now.

“Shanks,” you muttered helplessly while the snail’s eyes turned red.

The Hunter crawled to you, sitting on the floor at your feet while he took your hand in his.

“Stop.” The plea was useless when it left your lips. You didn’t know where it came from, only that those brown eyes looked soft again. Too soft.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” the leech lied too fucking well. “I’m sorry for everything. Please, believe me. I came here to bring you back to Buggy. He’s waiting for his star.”

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

 

“Fuck you!”

“Bunny, I…” Shanks was pathetic again, useless against this woman’s rage. Y/N had ripped her hand from his grasp to crawl off the bed until it was between them while she paced. She kept glancing at him and forcing her eyes away, as though the sight of him made her sick.

Maybe it did.

“Really,” she spat, near manic while her hands clawed into the air as she spoke. “Winning isn’t enough for ‘The Great Red Haired Shanks?’ You have to fucking torture me too?”

“It’s the truth, bunny—Y/N,” Shanks nearly whimpered as he crawled around the bed, careful not to spook her as he drew closer. He had to keep crawling while she tried to keep the bed between them, disgust in every frantic movement. “I promise, if you marry me, I’ll take you home to Buggy. Home to the Cross Guild. I’ll do anything, please, believe me!”

That wasn’t… I didn’t.

There was no way that his last, desperate words had been a command. He could never do that to an innocent. Never to someone he cared about, someone so sweet.

The Emperor of the Sea was choking now, the air in that little tent burning into an anger so vicious that he winced, almost shielding his face from the blast of it.

How can she carry all this inside her, he wondered, cowering yet again.

“Believe you,” Y/N mocked while waves of cruelty suffocated him. “Even if I believed you, I know what you are.”

She’d seen through him from the start.

“You think I’d think better of you for using me to get to Buggy,” Y/N challenged, gritting her teeth while she leaned over his slumped form. “I think I’d prefer it if you used me for berry, or to destroy a Jewel Tree for your magic fucking boat. Knowing you, you’ll try to do it all, won’t you? The Emperor wants EVERYTHING!”

Buggy’s star was shining with white, hot rage, stunning the greedy Emperor at her feet. She was so good at hiding, so very good at pretending. Yet, Shanks was awestruck at the sheer weight of hatred she could hide inside that precious body.

“Out,” Shanks ordered again, feeling his first mate’s concern before the man stepped too far into this storm of murderous wrath.

“Chief,” Benn checked in through the flap of the tent. Y/N’s eyes went wide with fear and fury at the sound of his voice before turning that malicious gaze back onto the trash at her feet.

“Get out,” Shanks commanded, the flavor of domination too familiar. Too easy.

He held his breath to brace for her fear, but Y/N just slumped onto the bed, her body loose while her head lolled to the side to meet his gaze. The tent was still thick with her emotions, but they seemed to slow. Less heat, but a feeling of sickness grew, nausea pouring through him.

The sight of exhausted tears in her eyes made him unable to tell which one of them those feelings belonged to.

“Why don’t you get out, Shanks? I know you don’t want me. I’m just in the way.”

“Shh, bunny. Don’t say that, please.” He almost touched her hand again, catching himself before another wave crashed down.

A wave of madness, of cruel laughter that ripped his worthless heart to shreds. She writhed on the bed, mocking and taunting, spitting words like acid to sear his flesh until nothing but bones and burning truths remained.

“You want me to be quiet so you can pretend I’m not there? You can fetch Buggy his star and sail away together on your magic boat. I’ll just sit in the corner so you can have everything you fucking want.”

“No, please—”

Shanks couldn’t think. It felt as though he’d lived too long without shame, and now an ocean of it was being forced down his throat.

He couldn’t breathe while that wounded star sneered at him.

“Don’t you fucking dare tell me, ‘no.’ I watched you. You took him from me, even when we were—I know I had no right to feel that way after everything but…” Y/N pulled him close, dragging him by the collar of his cloak while her voice cracked with pain. So sharp and jagged, Shanks could feel it in his own body, deeper than all the rest.

He’d caused so much pain.

“You made Buggy forget about me,” she sobbed, anger still present in the air like a weapon within reach. “You pretended I didn’t exist, but I forgave you. I told you to fucking take him, Shanks! You promised me!”

“Y/N—hey? Bunny,” Shanks panicked. The air around them had gone calm, everything soft and heavy when the woman before him went limp. He reached for her pulse, dreading that it would be as still as the air she’d been dominating a moment before.

Maybe she passed out? She couldn’t hide all that energy so quickly, couldn’t—

His fingers found that miraculous pulse on her neck, drumming slower and slower, until his own spiked at the touch of her hand on his. Y/N sat up straight as she held onto him. She stayed so calm while she begged.

“I can’t go with you, Shanks. I told you already, remember?” She made him dizzy, trying to remember something vital, but he couldn’t look away from her. “You promised that you would take Buggy and make him happy, but you lied! You promised me that you’d love him with everything in you.”

Buggy.

Shanks shook himself, but it was too late to save those words. Words he’d always meant to say to his oldest friend but never found the right time.

I don’t deserve it anyway.

He pulled back enough that she was pulled forward slightly, refusing to free his cloak from her shaking hands. Her eyes were wide and unblinking as though she was trying to keep her tears at bay, but their failures had already stained her cheeks.

“You promised. So, leave,” Y/N demanded. “I want to stay. Please, make him happy.”

“Bunny,” he gasped while he reached for his last chance, fumbling with it as though he wasn’t the ‘Great Red Haired Shanks.’ Finally pulling it free, he held the key between them and almost huffed a laugh at the adorable look of confusion on her face.

This whirlwind of a woman had overwhelmed him so thoroughly that he’d nearly forgotten the little key in his pocket. This key that he might have worn down into nothing if he held onto it another night, the tiny bit of metal like a worry stone to soothe his wretched soul.

Y/N was still staring at it, brows furrowed until he cleared his throat.

“That’s a pretty necklace you’ve got there, bunny,” Shanks breathed, a little freer now that Buggy’s locket had spilled from that red dress. He was feeling too much hope, but he was too damn selfish to fight it. “Whoever gave it to you must have good taste.”

 

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🔴🔴🔴⏰~~~

 

Somehow, no matter what corner of the world they’d passed out in, the air always tasted sweet when he woke with Buggy in his arms. Shanks had never been a morning person, yet his body seemed to crave that feeling as much as his heart did.

His body seemed to grieve the loss of it, a split second of fear before he melted into the pleasure of feeling his lover beside him.

“Mornin,’ Bugs,” he teased, trailing his breath along Buggy’s shoulder while his little morning whines got louder.

“Shanks…”

His eyes rolled back at that perfect sound. He needed to make it louder, needed to hear it again and again. Shanks held himself back, though he was nearly drunk on Buggy’s sleepy moans.

He had to savor this.

Buggy wasn’t ready to come back yet, but the future Shanks held in his mind made every goodbye all the sweeter. He didn’t want to dwell on the absence when he could look forward to every chance encounter. Especially when each time they parted brought them closer to that lovely future.

He didn’t see any other future ahead, except for the days he drank his doubts away.

Buggy would join him in the end.

“Of course you will,” Shanks almost commanded as he whispered along Buggy’s ear.

“I will—what? Ah, shit,” Buggy squirmed away when he caught eyes with his lover, though he didn’t squirm very far. “You’re still here? You’d better pitch in for this room since you—Fuck. Idiot…”

“That’s no way to greet a guest,” the red-haired pirate teased, his hand curled around Buggy’s body until he found his clown waiting and ready. Until Buggy started moaning again and the rest of the world, the rest of time, disappeared.

“You’re more of a PEST than a guest,” the clown complained before Shanks gripped his balls, tugging slightly until Buggy relaxed against him. “Asshole.”

“Is that an invitation,” Shanks chuckled. He left kisses now while he pressed his cock against the squirming, grumbling clown. “Missed me, didn’t you, Bugs?”

“Shut up and fuck me already,” Buggy ordered, though his voice was breathy while he fetched the lube with a floating hand. Now he was squirming so well, lifting his thigh to let Shanks in. The red-haired lover played and praised, fingers reaching and stretching before he claimed his clown.

Perfect.

“Knew ya missed me, baby,” Shanks growled, triumph coursing through his veins when his body found Buggy’s again. Still lying on their sides, his hand reached around to grasp that swollen length while his own, brutal cock made all those pretty whines return. “You’re so good for me, Bugs.”

“Fuck, please,” Buggy whined when Shanks stopped stroking him. He gave out the cutest, little yelp when Shanks nipped at his neck, still pounding into him when he replied.

“Please what, baby? Missing my touch already?”

Buggy turned to look at him over his shoulder, those beautiful eyes so desperate while he frowned.

Shanks snatched that blue hair, and Buggy disconnected his head from his neck to turn into that hungry kiss. He was rewarded with that greedy hand back on his leaking dick, but Shanks bit the clown’s lip to keep him from ending that delicious kiss.

The red-haired pirate drank in those precious noises now. They kept going while Buggy twitched and came in his hand. Such perfect noises while Shanks filled him up, so fucking high while he shoved himself deeper and deeper. Only the urgent need to breathe could have broken that kiss.

His clown stayed for a bit. Shanks ached to keep him now, but he took what he could get. Buggy stayed in his arms long enough to catch his breath before he was bickering again.

Shanks smiled at Buggy’s frown, even while he floated away.

It wouldn’t be the last time.

 

~~~⏰🔴🔴🔴⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

A key.

A missing key.

The onslaught of emotions you’d just drowned in seemed like nothing compared to the sickening mix of horror and hope that little key had sparked.

“No.”

Shanks looked pained at your cowardly word, but he didn’t reply, and he didn’t move.

The key was just there, and you wished you didn’t have to know.

A laugh, twisted and terrible, left your lips when you reached for it; your shaky hand was smeared with makeup and tears, and the thought of your pathetic cries was too much.

This was too much.

“I can help—”

“DON’T TOUCH ME,” you screamed, batting that greedy hand away while yours fumbled with that warm lump of metal. That chain of guilt and brightness slipped easily from your neck, yet the loss of its weight was heavy, pulling you deeper into the quiet earth beneath you.

It’s just a picture. I’ll get to see his face one last time. That’s good.

You hadn’t looked at it in a while, and the pressure of more stupid tears burned your throat as you traced your fingers over the pretty pictures. That ship and its shining star. That six and its spade. That keyhole and it's no longer missing key.

The locket fell with its key, just a lump of metal on the bed while you held onto the true source of that warmth. You cradled an ear in your hands and somehow the raging storm of emotions within you went still.

It wasn’t the sick stillness of escape. This stillness was quiet and warm. Soft and secret.

It made you forget the world.

It was just you, and Buggy, and his ear that had gone pink like it always did when he got flustered, when you praised him, and kissed him.

For just a moment, you were free. The vision was so clear that you laughed with gratitude. The most precious daydream played out in that one glorious moment, and it made everything alright.

Everything had been worth it.

“Thank you for saving me, Buggy,” you breathed over his skin. “But I need you to stop. I need you to let me go.”

“Bunny, wait,” cried the red-haired hunter when you placed that lovely ear in his hand. “Please, tell me what you need. I’ll do anything.”

There was no mirror in the tent that you could see, so you did what you could to clean the mess of makeup and tears from your face. Shanks followed you while you searched, while you stretched your body that felt so perfectly light without that chain.

Everything was fine now.

There was just one last thing…

 “Please, love him,” you smiled up at the Emperor while you cradled his cheek. “You owe me, Shanks.”

Bells. Distant, but drifting through the hills. Soon you would leave this magical tent, this dip in the world.

Better to end it now before the pain hit again.

“Let me go, Shanks,” you sighed, still giving a true smile when he blocked your path to the exit. “I want to—”

“I’ll kill him for you,” the monster vowed, those soft eyes gone hard as steel. His voice clawed through your stillness, until fear filled your veins. It started slow like poison, drifting up from the floor until you were nearly paralyzed beneath his looming form. “Let me end it right now, bunny. All these leeches deserve it, don’t they? Cedrick deserves—”

“Don’t you dare hurt him!”

Too much fear and rage slammed through you, so you couldn’t even laugh at the dumbfounded look on his face.

The bells were closer.

“Same goes for you, Buggy,” you let out a hiss, regretting that your last words couldn’t be sweet. “Tell Crocodile and Mihawk, too. If any of you hurt my family in any way, I will never forgive you, or myself. I will hate you all with everything in me.”

“But…” Shanks tried, but his mouth hung slack, his shoulders slumped while he still stood in your way.

“No buts, Emperor,” you mocked. Your precious moment was gone now, replaced by anger and disgust in the only weapon you had. You were disgusting, but it would all be worth it. “If you hurt any member of my family, I will kill myself. You’d have to keep me in a fucking cage, but I’d still find a way. Now, let me go.”

The Hunter didn’t move, but he didn’t stop you from going around him.

The night air was cool and sweet, but the fluffy robe wrapped around you like burning chains. You closed your eyes until you were shut away, not wanting to gaze at the sky again.

You’d seen just a piece of your true love tonight, and no other shining stars could compare.

 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

 

She was gone.

Red Haired Shanks stared into the space she’d left for what felt like decades, frozen in shame and disbelief, until glinting red caught his eyes.

“Wait, Bugs! I…”

The jamming snail’s glowing eyes drooped, slowing until the creature slumped within its horned shell. It looked nearly as sick as the failed hunter felt.

Shanks collapsed onto the bed, resisting the twisted urge to kiss Buggy’s ear, to take comfort, to take and take like he always did.

He’d failed them all. He couldn’t do anything.

And now he’d wasted his chance to apologize, not willing to risk the slim chance that he could still do any fucking thing to help.

He returned Buggy’s ear to that locket. It was a new, lovely worry stone for him to use.

I’m no hero. Just an asshole.

Sick laughter surprised that Emperor of the Sea when it spilled from his lips, the memory so bittersweet as it flooded his mind.

Y/N’s first accusation.

It hadn’t been that cursed island; it was that sweet, sick girl. She had held up this mirror, and Shanks could only thank her, pitiful and weak while he cowered beneath his own reflection.

“Too much fun,” Benn asked, that deep voice too soft while he leaned over the bed to look him over.

Every bit of his life felt like a lie.

“Nothing another bottle won’t fix, old man.”

 

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

 

Nothing was real. Waking, breathing, moving, all felt wrong. It was supposed to be over already, yet you still existed in this unfamiliar body.

You still had to function for a few more days and Kat wasn’t there to remind you to eat.

Your mother did the bare minimum, beaming at Shanks while she tasted all the dishes on the breakfast spread to encourage you to act like a normal, pretty doll.

How could you eat when the Emperor of the Sea kept his eyes on you?

The Hunter had almost been late, and he almost smelled like wine, but his voice was soft and villainous, and his gaze was a cruel torture. Temptation and punishment for your weak, selfish wants.

Yet, nothing could have weakened you more than the knowledge that Buggy was listening.

Shanks would keep him close, and any word you spoke would reach him.

How could you eat when you were being flayed alive?

“You must have had quite the date,” Uncle Cedrick quashed what remained of your useless hope. “Seems you wore out the little bride already. Need some coffee, niece?”

There would be no escape, but Kat would be safe, and Buggy would be loved.

That’s good.

Everything else is fine.

 

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

 

Red Haired Shanks had woken early.

Stupid, fucking birds were chirping too fucking close, the sharp sounds piercing through his skull. None of the bottles he’d drunk had fixed a thing.

The pain of the bright, loud morning outside his tent hadn’t woken him; that warm lump of metal in his fist was enough. His clown was there, listening to his failures that piled higher and higher. He could have suffocated beneath the weight, as though this grassy basin was being filled with a mountain of dirt.

He could have laid there until the end, let the earth bury him away. The Emperor was nothing but a coward, relieved that he could drift into darkness on his own now. He didn’t need the pomp and circumstance, the admiration or the trust he’d been gifted by so many.

Visions of laughter and smiling faces poured through like poison.

Shanks did want all of that. He wanted the life he’d made, and the comfort and steadiness that only being a hero could grant.

Yet, it was never enough.

More than anything, Shanks wanted to be a hero for the people he loved.

I’ve been going about this all wrong.

Shanks pieced himself back together, struggling not to think out loud. He held that warm metal in his pocket to keep from speaking to the piece of his love that dwelled within it.

I came here to be a villain, the red-haired hunter reminded himself while he watched Y/N fading away behind a smile and an empty plate. Shanks worked the crowd during their vapid interview, still disgusted by his ability to charm, and bewildered by her ability to pretend.

Y/N seemed truly empty now. Broken.

It’s not over yet.

She had slipped from his grasp, all that energy inside her gone cold. He’d spent so long chasing her, yet that precious little bunny had never been his prey.

“Dear friends and Hunters,” his true prey beamed. Cedrick Sylvad had taken the stage again, controlling this insatiable crowd with ease. He seemed to glow when his game was played out, when his toys followed his every whim. “It’s been an honor to host you during this Hunt. Only two remain, and in two days’ time, one of these Hunters will claim her.”

Shanks followed his prey’s guiding motion to stand beside him, the green-haired prince flanking his other side.

Leeches. Vultures. Pigs.

The horde of vermin writhed and squealed with pleasure, as though Shanks couldn’t kill them in an instant for treating him like a toy, just there to amuse them.

“We will have a day of rest tomorrow, so our Hunters and their lovely doe can think on their choice,” Sylvad announced. He dared to put his hand on Shanks’ shoulder, so at ease while he enjoyed the attention. “I wonder which of you will be joining our family… Either way, this wedding will be one for the books!”

Shanks nearly ended the man on that stage when those owning fingers squeezed his shoulder, shaking for just a moment as though showing off his new toy.

He couldn’t kill him. Couldn’t.

But Shanks would hunt him all the same.

 

~~~🔴~~~

 

The next day was dark without that wounded star, her fading light still more beautiful than anything on this greedy island. No amount of wandering, or jokingly asking for his little bunny, could guide him to her.

Even her mountainous rage and despair were absent from the air, as though she’d faded away completely.

It would have been easy to find her. He could just take her. His power shook beneath his skin, tempting, calling, seducing. Like an addict, Shanks had to ward off every bargaining thought.

If he wanted to be a hero, he’d have to do this the hard way, which was harder with every passing hour that his prey kept him waiting. Everywhere he looked, his own stupid face was displayed beside that cocky prince. Decorations and invitations to a wedding that was more of a game than anything else flooded the space.

Shanks frowned at one of the banners again, zoning out on the foggy treetops and decorative arrows and leaves.

Antlers were the only hint that Y/N was involved in this wedding at all. They framed the title, ‘The Hunt Is Over,’ leaving the faces of the Hunters to float above the trees, arrows pointing down toward the tantalizing question that so many had already lost berry over.

‘Which Hunter Will Claim Her?’

~~~

~~~

It really was pretty. If Shanks didn’t want to rip out their throats, he might have praised whoever designed the annoying sign that he couldn’t stop staring at.

“Excuse me, Emperor Shanks?”

The pretty servant girl cleared her throat. Her eyes flew wide with fear when she met his stony gaze, until he remembered that he wasn’t there to slaughter them all. She blushed at his false smile, his charm enough to cover the violence humming within, at least for this pretty girl that led him deeper in deeper into the monster’s den.

“There's my favorite Emperor,” Cedrick welcomed Shanks into his gleaming office.

Every perfect item seemed in its perfect place, except for a wooden chair along the wall beside the desk. Y/N’s uncle motioned for Shanks to sit across from him in a cushioned chair that matched his own, but that wooden chair left a hint of disgust on the pirate's tongue that he had to choke down.

He tortures his food before he eats, doesn’t he?

Shanks had to focus now. He had to charm this beast. Yet, it was all he could do to soothe the beast within him when Sylvad ordered his guards and servants from the room.

He couldn’t kill him. Shanks couldn’t go against her wishes, but he knew he was right on this.

Cedrick Sylvad deserved to die.

“May I confess something rather embarrassing, Shanks,” he smirked, like a child that already ate all the sweets. It was all the pirate could do to keep pretending, so he nodded while he reached for the offered glass of whiskey to have something to cling to.

“Of course. You’re one of my most fashionable friends now, aren’t you?”

The beast laughed with pleasure while they tapped their glasses, hunger in his greedy eyes before he spilled his secrets.

“The truth is, I’m a bit of a fan,” Cedrick laughed at himself, and then at Shanks’ blank face. “I was enamored with tales of the Pirate King growing up. The thought of being so powerful that the world declared you a king… I couldn’t get enough of those stories. Quite a cliché fantasy for a second son, I know. Yet, here I am, sharing a drink with Roger’s apprentice.”

“To Roger.” Shanks raised his glass again, hoping that the old man couldn’t see him now.

“To the One Piece,” Cedrick urged, a manic glint in his eyes while they toasted again. “And to Hunters and Kings that claim what’s theirs.”

The man laughed while he opened a hidden window into a room beside the desk, so many glinting shells in that luxurious snail enclosure. The beast was having so much fun, almost giddy while he played with his toys.

The newest was a familiar, horned snail, but its red eyes stayed dormant for now, while he lined up a large projector snail to face the opposite wall.

“Shanks, I am about to share some delicate family secrets with you. Regardless of whether you accept the terms of this marriage contract or not, I hope that you will take them to your grave.”

The beast dropped his smile with this somber tone, but Shanks could still taste it. He was having fun.

“You have my word,” Shanks lied.

“I’m glad to hear it. I am going to show you something quite shocking, and quite dangerous. Please hold your questions until the recording is over, and the horned snail is active.”

He didn’t wait for a reply before dimming the lights for the show.

Shanks almost killed him then. His own Haki fought against him, and he had to conquer himself now, otherwise that greedy island would be nothing but dust.

That wounded star… It was a nightmare. Endless clips of that broken girl reaching her breaking point, sick laughter filling the space while Shanks fought not to reach for the locket.

Many of the scenes were in a hospital—an asylum, but the Emperor swallowed down more bile as other scenes followed Y/N through the world, as though everywhere she’d gone had been owned by this monster and his fucking snails.

Each clip was short, but they all showed him what Cedrick wanted him to see.

 

~~~

‘Don’t worry,’ the young girl cackled while she rubbed her hands over her face, smearing lipstick down her chin while her little sister cried at her side. ‘It’s just dolls! Just pretend. Just a brokendollbrokendoll—'

 

~

 

‘I’ll make you poor, and dead. Don’t forget, your daughter’s not well!’

The wounded star was older as she breathed her rage against her mother’s face. A hint of fear showed in her mother’s eyes before Y/N walked away, harsh laughter following her through the halls.

Her laughter.

 

~

 

‘Everyone here wants to help you, Y/N,’ floated an unnervingly soothing voice from off the screen while Y/N struggled with the restraints at her wrists. ‘We want you to get well.’

‘And I want you to fucking DIE! Haha HA!! That's right, you piece of shit, I’m going to fucking KILL YOU!!—‘

 

~

 

Y/N had no laughter or tears in the last clip. Just fury on her face while she lunged across a breakfast table toward her smirking uncle. Dishes shattered as she sent things flying, but she seemed to break more once the guards and servants pulled her back, soothing voices guiding that empty girl away.

 

~~~

 

“My apologies, Shanks. I know how shocking it must be to see such a sweet, young girl for the monster she truly is,” Cedrick sighed, the corner of his lips hinting at his delight. He swapped out his toys now, the visions of nightmares replaced by the jamming snail’s red eyes. “Please, allow me to explain.”

The Emperor of the Sea couldn’t speak, but the beast didn’t seem to mind. Cedrick filled their glasses again and enjoyed the sound of his own voice.

“My dear brother was quite sentimental, if you recall,” Cedrick began, almost including Shanks in the conversation. “He cared for my dear niece so much that it broke the poor girl’s mind when he passed. After all these years of treatment and support, I’m afraid that Y/N will always be sick. That last clip was just a few weeks ago, you see.”

The burn of whiskey on his tongue. His mind couldn’t focus on anything else.

“I’ve done everything I can to protect her, and the people around her,” Sylvad bragged, resting his feet on the edge of his desk. “Unfortunately, Arbo put us all in a difficult position with his will. That sick girl is his sole heir, and she’ll only become the heir when she marries. Even more dangerous than that, he declared that whoever my niece marries will own half of our family’s company once the vows are sealed.”

Shanks remembered to act surprised, but he still couldn’t speak. Cedrick nodded at his furrowed brows and continued on.

The beast knocked on the wood beside the jamming snail, drawing the Emperor’s eyes. Controlling even him.

“I’m sure you can understand why I’ve gone to such lengths to protect Y/N from her father’s blunders. The poor girl isn’t well. Putting her, let alone whatever villain that decides to take her for himself, in charge of her father’s legacy would be cruel. Shameful.”

“Of course,” Shanks managed to say something, although he wasn’t sure what.

The beast seemed pleased by the sound, his tone shifting while he tilted his head back and forth.

“I have had the great honor of guiding my family through this storm,” Sylvad dragged on. “I will do everything to protect the Sylvad family legacy, so I have allowed my sick niece as much freedom as possible, but it’s time to set things right. She’s unwell.”

He had to stop sinking. Shanks had to wake up.

Had to fix this.

“So, she needs a husband that can head the company? I didn’t think—”

“Y/N needs a husband that will sign their half of the company to me so that I can continue to run it without exposing how vulnerable and violent Arbo’s favorite daughter is.”

Finally. Finally, fucking getting somewhere.

Cedrick pulled a crisp sheet of paper from the drawer beside him, laying it out along with a wooden pen carved and etched with gold branches and leaves.

“This seems a bit rushed,” Shanks teased, trailing his fingers across the contract. “What if Y/N doesn’t choose me? What if I decide to take her and elope instead?”

“Such a pirate,” Sylvad chuckled, as though praising a favorite pet.  “As you’ve seen, my dear niece has been sick since she was a child. We have kept it hidden to protect her dignity and the family’s reputation, and although we’ve kept the full details of Arbo’s will hidden as well, it wouldn’t matter. Y/N can’t get married.”

He gave a deep laugh now, leaning his head back after Shanks’ confused expression.

Shanks was going to kill this man if he kept this going much longer.

“Due to a legal conflict of interest with the stipulations in Arbo’s will, Delaine wasn’t able to take on the role after he passed, so my sister-in-law came to me for help. As Y/N’s conservator, it has been my duty to keep her healthy, and to provide as much freedom as is safe for someone in her condition.”

The realization hit the Emperor like a punch to the gut, but he sipped his drink to keep from showing it.

He really does own her.

“So, don’t go getting greedy, friend,” Cedrick scolded, tapping the contract between them. “Even if you steal her away, I must give consent and sign the documents for her marriage to be binding. Worry not, I’m sure you’d rather be out on the seas than mired in paperwork. You’ll still gain plenty of wealth, land, resources, a butchered Adam tree… Hells, I can even call in favors for you if you need certain areas cleared on your path to the One Piece. The Sylvad family takes care of its own.”

Shanks looked it over, noting that all he said was true. All it asked of him was to transfer over his portion of the Sylvad company immediately upon marriage. If he married Y/N, her uncle would win.

He signed it. He was here to charm the beast.

“Wonderful,” Cedrick purred while he studied Shanks’ signature and added his own. “Now, regarding the question of Y/N’s choice… I’d like to offer you another deal, in case my dear niece chooses the prince. You will gain everything from this agreement, except you will be marrying a younger, healthier, less… traveled bride.”

Cedrick pulled a picture frame from the top drawer of his desk, smiling at it before he laid it between them like he had the contract.

Kat. Y/N’s little sister, beautiful, even without the matching family smile.

“I understand if you’d like to punish the brat that cost you the Jewel Tree Adam all those years ago,” Sylvad beamed over his steepled fingers when Shanks met his gaze, “but I assure you, Kathryn will make a much finer Queen.”

“Both of these deals favor me,” Shanks tried, lost in the riptide of this man’s little world. How could he charm the beast when the beast kept pulling him closer, offering more and more? “What is it that I’ll be bringing to the table? There’s no company to sign away for Kathryn, is there?”

“I’m a fan, remember?”

The pleasure in those words shifted the air in the room, and Shanks was too busy trying not to be sick to figure out why.

“Follow me, Shanks, I’ll prove it.”

He obeyed, following the man that owned too much across the large room to stand before one of the many paintings of cedar trees along the walls.

Sylvad was humming again when he pressed the side of the gilded frame. The painting swung out on a hinge to reveal a few smaller frames that held various wanted posters and newspaper clippings inside, but Cedrick drew his attention to the article in the center.

It was old, so many secrets protected behind glass and gold.

“That article doesn’t say much,” the beast sighed, letting Shanks read it, as though the pirate could read a thing right now. “But the author is a friend of mine, so I got to hear Morgans’ real take on the God Valley Incident. Rumors that even that old bird wouldn’t risk putting to paper, but if they’re true… Well, I’d be an even bigger fan.”

The Emperor could just leave. Run like a coward from the sick desire in his enemy’s eyes.    

But he had promised.

“What do you mean,” Red Haired Shanks asked. He hoped he could tear that question from the world, so he’d never have to say those fucking words again for the rest of his life.

Cedrick took in a breath, wetting his lips before gripping the Emperor’s shoulder again. He couldn’t know how close to death he was.

“Sylvad’s are good at keeping secrets, Shanks,” he promised before leaning close enough to breathe the secret along Shanks’ ear. “My nieces would be honored to carry the blood of Dragons.”

No. Run away.

Shanks couldn’t run. He’d promised to become a villain to save her. A monster.

Cedrick Sylvad dragged that greedy hand along his arm, not even flinching when the Emperor looked down his nose at him.

This trash thinks he can own everyone, doesn’t he?

“Do you agree to both offers, Shanks? Will one of my nieces be mother to a— “

“Of course, Cedrick,” the monster purred. “How could I resist?”

 

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

Notes:

Wowzers, this one was a lot. I've had this chapter outlined since before the Hunt began, but finally getting to write it felt intense. I think I psyched myself out, lol. I hope you enjoyed it!

Also, who's ready for the wedding??

I have some wedding plans drawn up already, but I had to stop myself from focusing too far ahead until I got to this point, so I don't have a chapter estimate yet. Knowing me, this might be a lengthy wedding, lol.

It'll definitely be a wild one though 🥰

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of Numbers Game & Extra Scenes