The Hunter and the Hunted
Summary: Buggy the clown annoys you. More than annoys you. It's been that way ever since you were both little and as a bounty hunter, it made all the sense in the world to dislike him. When you are captured by the Marines for crimes you had been trying to outrun for years, you find him locked up right alongside you and just as annoying as ever. But when the chance for escape presents itself, it comes with strings attached. Strings that test the very natural order between the hunter and the hunted--an order Buggy seems to have no regard for.
Commissioned by: @katelynwithpaint (Thank you for commissioning me, it was so much fun to write! ❤️ ❤️)
You were thrown into the dank brig of a marine vessel, the force of the action enough to send you falling to the ground, your bound hands barking in pain as you tried to keep yourself upright.
The two marines who had been commanded to bring you down here spat filthy insults your way. Insults you should have brushed off and forgotten about, but you have never been good at taking such things. Had always let them get under your skin--get you angry and upset.
Snapping your head around, teeth bared in a nasty snarl, you watched the door slam shut behind you.
“You fucking spoon-fed idiots!” You hissed up at the two marines who had been ready to leave before you had spoken. “You know nothing of--” The taller one slammed his fist against the bars of your prison, causing a loud bang to ring through the metal walls.
You hardly flinched. Hardly bat an eye. You’d dealt with some of the most terrifying big bads the East Blue had to offer. Big bads who thrived off chaos and ate babies for breakfast. These two goody-two-shoes marines would never in their wildest dreams live up to those creatures. Never utterly terrify you.
“We know everything about you. We know of your failed run as a bounty hunter. We know you killed a respected and loved member of our community--you are a criminal. Nothing but a no-good pirate.” He shot down at you in an air of superiority. Like you were nothing but the dirt under his shoes.
A criminal. A no-good pirate. Those few words were worse than any insult one could possibly conjure and spit at you. Worse than physically getting slapped in the face.
You were by no means a good person, but a criminal--you were far from being a criminal. Not in the same sense as those you’d hunted down. Those who had done true evil in this world. Who had hurt innocent people--children.
Criminals like their respected and loved community members. A, now-dead, marine commodore. A commodore who had gone too far in life without getting punished for his crimes.
Crimes you punished him for.
A crackling laugh filled the air before you could spit any sort of slights their way. A laugh that started off low, like a chuckling at oneself, but gradually grew into a wicked, bellowing thing.
It was a laugh you were all too familiar with. One you had first heard as a fresh, new bounty hunter following your former master on her journey to take down Silvers Rayleigh, fearsome first mate of the soon-to-be King of the Pirates.
Your master had been killed not long into the fight, but you had been too busy fighting off a red-nosed boy around your age to notice. You two had beaten the absolute shit out of each other, and would have continued till only one of you left victorious, but Rayleigh had stepped in, stopping you two before that could happen. He had spared you, despite your hot-headed vows of revenge.
You had thought all too much about that red-nosed boy as you continued across the East Blue. Thought about how he had been just as passionate and confident in his mentor’s skills--in his own skills--as you were. How he had been just as reckless and rash as you.
It wasn’t for another five years before you saw him again, still sailing around with your master’s killer, though you had given up on that revenge long before then.
You had at this point in time found three other like-minded bounty hunters whom you joined up with. Hunters who had been tracking down a pirate unrelated to the boy you had battled with, though who just so happened to be celebrating some sort of victory on the same island.
You two almost went head to head once more, had it not been for his calm and collected red-headed friend. A friend who had scared the shit out of you, despite his cool nature, so your fight ended swiftly and you left.
More years passed and the more you ran into the clown. Each time you two found some way to fight--whether it be physical or verbal. A few times that red-headed friend was with him to help break it up, and other times you both were thrown out of whatever bar you had been in.
You ran into him once more in some backwater bar, sitting alone and nursing a large pint of beer. He smirked your way when he spotted you and, to your surprise, bought you a drink. A drink you took reluctantly, waiting for the moment you would have to defend yourself against him. But instead, he merely talked to you. Told you how his captain had dissolved his crew, leaving him adrift.
And there was hurt in his eyes. A sense of abandonment that had you carefully telling him of what had been happening in your own shit-filled life. Of a marine whose name you had just recently crossed off your list. How you had finally gotten him after years--gotten revenge for the lives he had taken from you in your youth.
He’d laughed in something kin to understanding, insisting on buying you another drink to which you declined and went on your way.
The last time you came across that laugh, you had just been left for dead by your so-called comrades--friends. Left to be found by the very marines you had crossed when you stumbled into a seemingly deserted town. A town you quickly found was overrun with freakish pirates. Freakish pirates who had managed to kidnap you in your weakened state and drag you into an equally freakish circus tent.
The boy had grown up, just as you had. Had grown up to be captain of this band of freaks. One who had chained the poor people of that town up and used them for his own, sick entertainment.
But when you saw him, that laugh sounding in your ears, you were reminded of just how much you thought of it. How many of your dreams had been haunted by it’s ring. Of how you, for whatever reason, held a sick sense of respect for him. And his eyes--they were all too bright looking upon you. All too seeing.
After dramatically introducing you to his crew and captives, he had you dragged off into a back room where you were once more surprised when his freaks cleaned your wounds and gave you some water to drink.
It was all very strange. It went against the very natural order of the world. The order between the hunter and the hunted.
It had freaked you out all so much, you escaped before you had to face that haunting laugh and its owner.
But here it was again, spilling from the red-painted lips of Buggy the clown, captain of the Buggy pirates, locked away in this all too wet marine brig pulling haunting ghosts from your past into the forefront of your mind.
You kept your eyes trained on the two marines before you, watching them like a hawk. Watching for a slip-up. Something--anything that would help you in this situation. Something that would keep your eyes off the crazed clown and his grating laugh.
“If she’s a pirate, then that would make me one you shithead.” His gruff voice joked. The two marines shared a look between them. One that almost looked to have uneasy undertones to it.
“You have no right interfering in marine business.” The second shot towards the cell just next to yours, only resulting in more insane laughter filling the air. The first marine just shook his head in growing annoyance.
“Come on. He’s all locked up. That big-nosed freak can’t do a thing.” The laughter cut off sharply.
“What did you just as say?” Buggy asked, his tone becoming all that much more serious. That more threatening--dangerous. The Marines bore shit-eating grins, obviously finding his growing pissed-off nature amusing.
“You know, I never liked clowns. Freaky little fuckers.” The first said as they began heading for the exit once more.
“This freaky little fucker is going to cut your nose off and force you to eat it when I get out of here.” This only seemed to tickle the marines further and they left without so much as another word.
The brig was dead as a tomb for a moment you used to look about the confines of your cell, trying to find any weaknesses or things to make a makeshift weapon with so that you could escape sooner rather than later. Buggy gave an exasperated huffing sigh as your eyes locked onto something in the corner, just by the horrible-looking toilet.
“Yeesh. Some people just don’t know how to have fun.” You all but ignored him, messing with the bit of scrap metal that had been idioticly left unfixed. “Whatcha got there, peach?” He said, using the nickname he had given you after you threw a peach you had mistaken for a rock at him when you had seen him that second time. He had used it ever since then and it’s continued to annoy you.
“Don’t call me that.” You snapped, finally yanking the bit of metal from its last hold on the base of the toilet. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.
“Since when have you ever thought of me and fun at the same time?” You huffed, working on trying to unlock the cuffs that had been slapped around your wrists. It took you a minute to even get the bit of metal into the small keyhole, and with your hands locked together as they were, you hardly saw yourself free any time soon.
“Oh, don’t be so hard on yourself. I think you’re plenty fun. I think you do a fantastically fun job playing pirate bounty hunter.” You again ignored him. Tried not to even hear his all-too-chipper voice as you continued to work. “Playing pirate bounty hunter when you can’t even sail a ship. I think it shows your commitment to the part.”
You finally snapped around to shoot a daggered glare Buggy’s way, whose usual red-painted lips were pulled up in a wide smile. He knelt before the bars separating the two cells, gloved hands clasped together before him. His clown-styled makeup was smudged in a way that told you he must have been here for a few days. You also noted the absence of his hat, which bore his insignia in the center, leaving him in his red and white striped bandana.
You couldn’t help the small part of you that wished he was wearing it--the small part that thought it suited him all too well. A small part of you that you shoved down deep.
Seeing him again after god knows how long was always--staggering. It brought back up such ugly feelings of hatred and utter sadness you’d felt after your master's death. Brought back up how surprised you’d been when he offered you a drink. Brought back up that equally as ugly feeling of respect and misplaced understanding.
Buggy was an actor--a performer. Of course he would play the part he needed to get you to let your guard down--to not beat him into a pulp.
It was all so aggravating.
“It’s not some part.” Buggy rolled his eyes in a dramatic fashion that only made your frustration coil tighter in your chest. “And I can sail a ship.” Buggy let out a sharp mocking laugh.
“I seem to remember my freaks telling me of the struggle you had trying to leave that small island I found you on.”
“I had lost a lot of blood.” You said as if you needed to give him any sort of explanation. As if you needed to keep talking to him. Turning away from this intense green-blue gaze, you went back to work on the cuffs.
“You know, I was rather upset you left without saying goodbye,” Buggy said in fake hurt. “You didn’t even get to see my grand finale.”
“Oh, I’m sorry I hurt your feelings.” You said in equally mocking tones.
“Fuck off, Buggy. I should have beat your ass while I had the chance. I should have killed you and freed those poor people you terrorized.” Buggy pulled a smirk to his lips.
“Beat my ass? I seem to remember it was me who kicked your ass last time.” A scoffing huff spilled from your lips.
“We were ten years old--”
“Ten in a half.” Buggy quickly corrected like it truly mattered. You shot him a look that said as much.
“It doesn’t matter. I had no skill back then. No discipline. I would kill you now without ever batting an eye.” That smirk never once left Buggy’s lips, his eyes shining in utter amusement. Eyes that had your gut doing annoying and tiresome little twists.
“And collect what bounty? Our cheery new friends seem to think you’re nothing but a “no-good pirate” now.” Despite that shot of anger that flared in your chest, you pulled on your own smirking smile.
“It wouldn’t be for any bounty. It would be for my own amusement.”
“Peach, if you're trying to flirt with me, it's working.” He all but purred your way. You rolled your eyes and truly went back to unlocking your cuffs.
No more distractions. No more annoying banter with that clown pirate who grated on your nerves like no other. You couldn’t get caught. Not yet. Not before you got revenge for yourself. Revenge against those who had turned the world against you. “Peach--”
“You truly are horrible.” You snapped, unable to ignore the obvious rise Buggy was trying and successfully getting out of you.
“When I escape and free you,” Buggy started, only for you to cut him off with a scoff.
“You’re delusional.” Buggy rolled his eyes dramatically.
“When I escape and free you, you’ll have to repay me.”
“You aren’t freeing me. I can do that just fine on my own.” You snapped.
“Oh, I think I will.” You shot him a glare hoping he would shut up. He, of course, did no such thing. “And after I get us off this ship, I’m thinking you’ll be so overrun with emotion you’ll do something sweet for me.” You shook your head, shoving the bit of metal this way and that within the keyhole.
“I don’t find your games amusing. I actually find them quite boring.”
“Now you’re just being mean.” The sudden sound of rusting metal squeaking open pulled your attention away from your work and back onto Buggy. Your jaw all but fell open upon seeing Buggy sauntering out of his cell, his hand popping back onto his wrist, a ring of keys laying there.
You had watched those Marines. Hadn’t missed a single twitch or breath, so how had you missed Buggy grabbing those keys from around the holder's waist? How had you missed a flying, dismembered hand?
“How--” You watched him unlock your cell door in utter disbelief. Watched as he took the few steps across the way so he was standing in front of you. Watched with a fluttering, tingling belly as he knelt before you, that all too charming smile on his lips. You covered your strange feelings with that of familiar annoyance for him.
“Peach, I’m gonna let you out, but,” He said, sing-songingly elongating the last word. “I want you on my crew.” That was the last thing you thought you would hear from his lips. It was enough of a shock to squash any and all irritation you held in your chest for the clown.
You two had no like for the other. Every time you saw each other, it was either a fight or a backward attempt to mock and tease the other. You were the hunter and he was the hunted. Why would he ever want you to be near him in such a way?
You laughed in his face. Laughed wholeheartedly in your unbelieving at his words. Laughed so hard it shook your shoulders.
“You’re full of it. I despise pirates. I kill your kind for a living.” You snapped at him once you’re laughter subsided.
“Past living.” You’re disbelief quickly turns back into that of anger. “And you’re perfect.” His words caught you off guard once more. Had you all but freezing up, unable to conquer up your anger.
Perfect. No one had ever uttered such a thing to you.
It was…strange. You and him--it was all too strange.
“I collect outcasts, those thrown away by society. Those hurt and betrayed and left to die, bleeding out on some hopeless island.” You felt your eyes suddenly prick in the remainder of your inner wounds. Wounds created by those you had thought were your friends--family. Those who you had loved more than you had ever loved anything in this world.
Buggy saw all of this with those intent green-blue eyes. He saw this and he understood, despite your many differences. Because he had experienced it too. Had been hurt and left to rot by those he had cared about.
“My freaks--my crew--don’t turn their backs as easily. I don’t turn my back that easily.”
An actor--a performer. That’s all he was--all he ever would be…but damn if he wasn’t speaking to your soul. Wasn’t utterly pulling you into those green-blue eyes and that charming smile of his.
“I--” You didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know what to do. You should tell him to fuck off. That you would rather stay here and let the Marines drag you off to some prison to be forgotten in. But…but you didn’t say that. Your traitorous heart didn’t let you. “I am no pirate.” You all but whispered. It was a confession rather than a biting hiss.
Buggy smiled, his gloved hand coming up to grab hold of your chin in a grip that was just tight enough to keep you from looking away from him. It was all too much. It felt all too--too right, having the roles switched. Being the frightened sparrow and he the smiling chester cat, ready to snap your neck between his sharp, smiling jaws.
“Oh, I know.” He whispered back as if it was a secret. “But I think you’ll like it. I think your cage door needs to be unlocked so you can fly free.” Before you could even open your mouth to try and pull together a rambling stream of words, the marine ship shook violently, the sound of cannon fire echoing down into the brig. That wickedly charming smile pulled onto Buggy’s lips. “Right on time.” He pulled his hand from your chin, the absence of his warmth leaving you annoyingly wishing for it back--wishing for more.
What a strange, strange predicament you were in. What strange, strange emotions. It was all too confusing. Too much.
Buggy dangled the keys in front of your face as the ship was attacked once more. “How about you think on it while I take care of this, peach.” He said, dropping the keys into your lap before standing to his full, towering height. “Though, don’t strain that pretty little head of yours too much.” And with that Buggy left the cold, dank brig.
You wasted no more time than you had, quickly unlocking the cuffs, which had been rubbing painfully against your skin, and heading in the direction Buggy had disappeared in.
The next few moments went by in a flash. You getting to the deck and finding Buggy’s freaks had boarded and were mowing down marine after marine, leaving no survivors in their wake. Buggy laughing insanely as he fulfilled the threat he had shot their captor's way. You finding where they had stored your weapons, as well as Buggy’s hat. You killing anyone who got in your way as you found yourself heading for the edge of the ship--found your body had a mind of its own as you jumped, landing on the deck of the circus-themed ship Buggy commanded.
This was your best and only escape route, you told yourself as you rushed around the ship, trying to find a place you could keep away from the rest of the world so you wouldn’t be found out. That place ended up being the large tent near the back of the ship, washed in shadow and thankfully empty.
You passed the time by looking around the large area, finding it was very similar to that of the tent Buggy had set up on land all those years ago.
Finding a pair of stairs, you winded up them, finding a singular chair sitting in the center of the raised platform. A throne, you realized. Buggy’s throne. You traced your fingers over the designs engraved in the wooden seat before sitting down, finding it would be the best place to wait out the fighting and think about your strange predicament.
“That's my seat.” Buggy’s gruffing voice sounded in your ear a little less than an hour later. It didn’t startle you, his sudden appearance. You had marked his footfalls when he thought he had been sneaking into the tent to do just that.
“Take it. It’s uncomfortable.” You murmured, pulling yourself from the throne which was, despite your words, rather comfortable. Buggy was much closer than you had originally thought, so close you had to tilt your head up just the slightest bit to look into those green-blue eyes of his. Eyes that never once moved away from your face as he flopped down on his throne, legs spread in some show of dominance.
“So, tell me peach, what is your answer?” You moved your eyes away from Buggy’s intense stare, looking over his hat which you had taken with you off that marine ship.
“Why free me?” You questioned, glancing back towards the pirate, whose eyes never seemed to have lifted from your form.
“Because I’ve been looking for someone to fill the role of knife thrower in my performance. You are good with a blade.” It was a lie. You could tell it was a lie. And it ate at you despite your utter dislike for this pirate. You took a step closer, those green-blue eyes watching your movements.
“That I am…but tell me something; what makes a pirate buy a drink for a bounty hunter?” You took another, calculated step that the clown marked. He shrugged as if it was no big deal.
“Why not? Getting you drunk seemed like a fun idea at the time.” He cracked a mischievous smile. “Still does.” You gave a small nod, pausing just before him. “You’re dancing around my question, peach. Maybe that's what I should make you.”
You leaned forward the slightest bit, his knees brushing against your legs, being as close to him as you were.
“You let me out of my chains. You dressed my wounds when you could have let me bleed out, and for those things, I owe you my life.” Buggy gave a small nod of his own.
“But I can’t be free yet. Not when those who betrayed me are still breathing.” That smile of his stayed in place, but a seriousness you had never seen before filtered into his eyes. A seriousness that spoke of understanding. Of respect.
Strange--this was all so strange, things between you and him. Between hunter and the hunted.
“And then?” He questioned. You moved ever closer, you’re legs fitting between his in a strange sort of puzzle. Buggy watched and allowed you to gently tug his hat back onto his head, his breath tickling your lips.
You thought of the way his hand on your chin felt. How it had all but drove you crazy. How you had wished, no matter how absurd, to have it back there--to have more.
“Tell me why you saved me.” You spoke softly so that Buggy and Buggy alone could hear. “Why do you want me on your crew? Why, when you should have killed me--when you’ve wanted to kill me ever since we were young?” Buggy’s eyes fluttered down to your lips as they moved. A small action that had that buzzing in your body stirring alive once more.
“I think you know.” He spoke just as softly in that gruffing voice of his. A voice that had been bouncing around in your brain for longer than you liked to admit.
“I don’t think I do.” Buggy’s eyes narrowed the slightest bit like he was annoyed at your comment. An annoyance you wanted to drag out of him. You knew he didn’t want to admit it. Knew that he probably had never had to explain himself before. “Because I am still under the impression that I am the hunter ready to collect that sizable bounty on your head.”
“You think my bounty is sizable?” He smirked, continuing to dance around the topic.
“Enough to get me a ship that floats and an expensive bottle of wine.” You said in an attempt to get under his skin. You saw that flash of irritation in his eyes that made your own smirk pull to your lips.
“A ship you couldn’t even sail?” He teased, moving closer so that his lips were mere inches away from your own.
Your mind raced to wonder what they might feel like fitted against yours. How it might feel to have his hands running over your skin--to feel his skin.
It was all too strange, the things he was able to pull from you. Such strange feelings.
“You annoy me.” You jabbed his way, your eyes fluttered every so often to those red-painted lips of his.
If you kissed him, would your lips come away just as red?
“You’re eyes annoy me, your laugh, your voice.” Buggy looked as if he was trying to figure out if your words were supposed to be meant as an insult or some backwards complaint. You wondered this as well.
“And it annoys me that you understand. Say you understand.” You found yourself saying in a biting manner. The pirate looked over your face, seeming unsure of what to do next. Unsure of what to say even when you had just spelled it out for him.
His hand reached out and took hold of your chin in his solid grip. A grip that sent your stomach fluttering uncontrollably. “I understand.” Was all he said before he was pulling your lips flush against his own.
You hardly had control of yourself as you kissed him back in a frenzy, all sense of self-control and reason flying out the window. A kiss fueled by your strange, strange feelings for this clown. Feelings a mix of dislike, annoyance, understanding, and respect. Feelings you’d been harboring deep within yourself for a long, long time.
His kiss burned through you, had your hands grabbing at his jacket and all but ripping it from his body, feeling over his strong, exposed arms. His skin was warm and felt so nice against your own. Skin you wished to feel covering your whole body.
Buggy hands moved along your body, pulling you closer. His touch sent your skin on fire. A fire that hat engulfed your entire being, demanding to be satisfied.
Your hands moved downward, over his equally strong chest and abdomen until they found the edge of his pants, your fingers fumbling to undo his buttons. Buggy mimicked your actions, finding and unfastening the buttons there.
You pulled away from Buggy long enough to hasten along the process of shoving your pants over and off your legs. A process you had hardly finished before Buggy was grabbing you up once more, claiming your lips in a hot, needy kiss. A kiss that felt more like a fight for dominance. A fight the two of you never could seem to truly finish.
Buggy’s hands took fist fulls of your ass, guiding you up and onto the throne with him, your knees straddling either side of him. Reaching down between the two of you, your hand disappeared into Buggy’s pants, taking hold of is hardened cock and giving it a few good, teasing pumps. He gave a throaty groan that had that heat shoot through your core, making your pussy throb in just as much need as the rest of your body.
As quickly as you could, you pulled his cock free from the confines of his pants, hardly waiting before you were descending downward, a sweet little moan spilling from your lips.
Fuck it was good. It felt so good being connected this way. In a way that was slowly filling that yawning need within you. A need you had been holding at bay for a long time.
“F-fuck, peach.” Buggy moaned into your mouth, his hands moving to hold onto your hips in a near steel-like grip. A grip that guided you further down so that you were fully seated on top of him. “So fucking good.”
You moaned your own pleasure as you began to move up and down, slowly at first so that you might feel every last inch he had to offer. A pace that gradually quickened, finding that need within you all but commanding you to do so. Grabbing hold of one of Buggy’s hands, you guided his gloved fingers to find that small bundle of nerves that all but begged for his attention. Silently told him just how you liked it to be touched and, surprisingly, he was a quick learner.
It was good. Almost too good. Never would you have imagined this happening--you fucking this vastly annoying clown. The very clown you’d fought for years. But then again, this was just another sort of fight. A fight for dominance and submission. A fight you much rather preferred over that of brute force and stabbing words.
Buggy’s lips left yours only to latch onto the soft flesh between your neck and shoulder, sucking and biting in a way that drove you crazy. That sent you quickly spiraling closer and closer over the edge.
“Oh god--Buggy, I’m--I’m…” His fingers kept circling your clit, bringing you all that much closer to your finish.
“Come for me, peach. F-fuck--you’re such a sweet little thing.” You moved your face so that you could press your lips against his once more, moan after moan vibrating through your throat.
So much--too much. It was all so good you’re legs began to turn to jelly. Began to give out under your own weight. Buggy seemed to understand this and pulled away from your clit only so he could grab you up in his strong arms. Arms that held you up as he fuck into you mercilessly.
You spiraled up and up and up until your pussy was clutching around his cock and pure bliss was shooting through you. Buggy’s name flew from your lips as you held onto him for dear life. The pirate gave a few last, grunting thrusts before he was spilling into you.
Buggy buried his face in your chest, his chest heaving up and down just as your own, both of you fighting to take in the thick air around you.
The tent was filled with nothing but the sound of your mixing breaths for a long moment. A moment you took the time to run your hands over any and all exposed skin Buggy had to offer. Warm skin that brought you such strange, strange comfort.
“And then?” Buggy asked, taking you by surprise. It was the same question he had asked you only moments ago. A question of what you would do after you had avenged yourself. You pressed your cheek against the side of his head, your lips brushing over his right ear.
“Then I will return,” You breathed, feeling Buggy’s body go just that much more still against yours. “And I will be free.”
