Chapter Text
On initiation day with the marines you got drunk, very drunk, woke up in bed with a pirate clown and a ring on that finger. The events of the previous night that led to your predicament were hazy, but incredibly detailed in some parts... like when you had dragged the cute clown pirate for a romp in the back alley for instance.
You weren’t thinking, of course you weren’t, the only thing on your mind was to have as much fun as possible before embarking into your new life with the marines the next day. Which is why when you bumped into a handsome, although flashy and equality inebriated stranger -I'm Buggy, Buggy the clown!- you couldn’t help but to greet him with a kiss that was very enthusiastically returned.
One thing led to another and next thing you knew you were in a dark alley behind the bar, legs up around his waist while holding on for dear life as he rammed into your cunt like a possessed man.
Even with a few shots of rum up your nose you could appreciate the work of art that were the clown's biceps as he held you up by the thighs effortlessly, like you weighed nothing to him. He never eased off his tempo, one of his hand relentlessly playing with your clit until all you could do was beg and moan his name, acting like sending you to orgasm-town was his sole reason to exist on this planet at the moment.
Buggy was constantly off to explore with his lips and leaving quite a few hickeys on his travels over your skin. At the same time all you wanted was the wet slide of his tongue against yours, intoxicating as he whined and mewled into your mouth when you pulled him back by the hair. It was rough, messy and good. And through it all his other hand was trapping one of yours between your bodies, fingers intertwined tenderly and his thumb rubbed soft circles into your skin. It made your heart skip a few beats.
Overall it was the best sex you ever had, even if you ended up with brick shaped bruises branded into your back for a week or two after.
To this day the memory sent a shiver down your spine and a tingle in your core. You remember staying in his embrace for a few minutes following the deed, just enjoying his warmth and soft little kisses, languid and wet as you came down from the high. Your memory then skipped to the two of you drunkenly giggling as you exchanged the dumbest vows you could think of on the corner of the bar in front of a captain named Ted.
You swayed a bit, half holding onto Buggy and half onto the barstool, but you soldiered on, taking the most solemn face you could manage to convey your commitment to the vows.
’’I, take you Buggy, to be my awful wedded husband. To have and to scold, from this day fast-forward for better but not worse, for richer, sans poorer, forget sickness only in health, to loathe and to cherish, till suspicious death do we part.’’ You had decided to exchange rings you already owned, both too poor to buy anything decent anyways, but you couldn’t pass yours further than the tip of his ring finger. He wore it on his pinky instead, cackling like a hyena before calming himself down enough to say his own vows.
‘’I'm so happy that you chose me to be your dick for life and I would punch in the throat anyone who tried to stop me from marrying you. I promise to take you in sickness and in health, regardless of the dangerous stuff I put you through in the first place!’’ you snorted as he slipped an iron band carved with runes he usually wore on his pinky onto your ring finger, falling face first onto his lips as the officiant captain happily declared you husband and wife to the cheers of the small crowd throwing peanuts into the air.
A solid start to your career.
The next morning you were pleasantly sore from your err… honeymoon and woke to your ‘husband’ halfway through the window. You asked to annul whatever this was before he left, but the clown just laughed and blew you a kiss, the quartz of your ring catching the light of the sun as it now swung on a thin silver chain around his neck. '’See you around my darling wifey!’’ he had winked before bailing out the window and leaving you to pay for the room. Asshole.
You figured it was fine, you had better things to do and there was no way your drunken wedding had any legitimacy to it anyways, right?
Wrong.
A few days later HR brought you in to congratulate you on your marriage -Marrying the night before your embarkment, how romantic, congratulations Mrs.!- and showed you the certificate they had received in the mail right before the ship left port. The new bane of your existence had signed in bright blue ink right next to your name in a surprisingly pretty cursive: Nefertari D. Buggy. You scrambled to have it annulled, but being stuck at sea as a recruit made it difficult and by the time you managed to get the request out, the deadline was over and divorce remained as the sole option. Which needed consent of both parties. Dammit.
For the first three years you didn’t see it as much of a problem, going up the lower ranks didn’t change much, but as the promotion for officer began to hang over your head the questions became more detailed.
Any information regarding your husband was kept vague enough that it was believable, but overly so that it would be suspicious. You kept making up fake letters, keeping some on your desk for show and you would be mindful to drop a few tidbits about your dearest in conversations to keep the charade up. You quickly gained a reputation for being a private person because of your reluctance to talk about anything concerning your personal life, which worked to your advantage as the higher ups seemed to prefer people who were discreet.
The only person who knew about Buggy was the barmaid Tiffany you befriended that infamous night. She suggested trying an annulment on the grounds that your husband deserted you, but unfortunately and ironically, the very ruse you pulled off for so long was also proof of commitment. Fuck. And so your quest for divorce began, but tracking the mad jester was harder than anticipated even with a million berry bounty on his head. You just needed to find him, surely after three years the clown pirate would be bored of it and sign the papers if only not to have a marine in his business.
One day you’d be tired of being wrong.
‘’What do you mean you won’t sign?’’ nearly missing his reply as you were busy cataloguing the subtle changes of time on the man. The make-up was definitely new, it suited him.
‘’It’s just like I said sweets, I’m a committed man.’’ Buggy shrugged, popping another apple slice in his mouth with a grin you really wanted to slap off.
‘’We haven’t seen each other in almost 4 years. The only reason I even knew you were alive was because my work keeps me updated on bounties!’’ you hissed out, eyes shifting under your sunhat to keep an eye on the crowd outside the tavern, it wouldn’t do to let anyone know you were a marine around here.
‘’So you’re saying I should write to you more often?’’ The pirate had the gall to look excited at the prospect of being pen pals with a marine officer.
He’s delusional, he’s completely mental.
‘’NO. I want you off my record, I can’t have a known jackass captain pirate for a husband if I ever want to become Admiral. C’mon Buggy, this is a bad joke right? You really want me to believe you’ve been faithful to me all this time, don't you want your freedom back?’’ This seemed to knock off the smile off his face, his whole demeanor flipping like a switch as he stepped towards you with fury emanating from his whole self, like a snake ready to bite.
‘’Were you?’’ The question took you by surprise, brows furrowing as you stepped back to keep your distance.
‘’Were I what?’’
‘’Faithful.’’ He spat out the word as if burned, tilting his head as he gave you a cold smile. ‘’Or did you cheat on me, slept around with some chore boys maybe?’’ your heart started beating erratically, alarm bells in your mind reminding you that this was a dangerous criminal with a few screw loose.
‘’I would never.’’ you snarled back in his face, refusing to back away further and downright insulted by the prospect. So much for survival instincts. Honestly it hadn’t even crossed your mind, too focused on work and your ambition to climb the ranks.
Your anger seemed to ease Buggy, his shoulders relaxing and whole body language melting off the tension. He loosened his hold on the knife in his hand and cut himself another apple slice as he grinned down at you, the corner of his lips still a bit too tight to be believable. ‘’Then see? No problem, we’re already doing better than most married couples.’’
Snagging the apple piece before it made its way in his mouth, you seethed. ‘’Listen here you asshole, this whole marriage is a sham and we both know it. Pirates and marines don’t mix and they certainly don’t get married. Is it blackmail you want? Inside information? Or are you planning to use me later on as a ‘get out of jail’ free card?’’
To his credit Buggy actually seemed to take a moment to consider. His eyes glided over your sandals, then your dress and finally paused at the ring you forgot to remove with an intense gaze before tossing his apple over his shoulder and wiping his mouth on his glove.
‘’A drink.’’
‘’A… Drink?’’
‘’Rum, right?’’ The clown pirate didn’t wait and went behind the bar to grab a bottle and two glasses. ‘’C’mon, let’s talk upstairs.’’ Buggy didn’t wait for you before making his way up, his coat flapping around his legs as he bounded up the stairs two at a time.
You weighed your options, but you figured if drinks were involved it meant he was looking to negotiate. Except once you made it into the suite he was residing in, the discussion turned sour pretty quickly, Buggy made a point of being a stubborn ass and infuriated you to the brink of violence. It came to a head when the clown ripped the papers in a fit of anger, which made you yell and throw your glass at his head. As you attempted to snatch the ruined papers away from him it turned into a small brawl, things ended up sideways on the couch... Twice. You eventually made it to the bed for the third and final round, breaking the frame in your enthusiasm.
At the crack of dawn you were up and about gathering your things for a swift tactical retreat. You turned one last time to see Buggy still laying nude on his back, chest marred with bruises and head framed in a halo of blue as he snored louder than a walrus. You felt your chest tighten at the sight of your ring resting peacefully on his left pectoral, attached to that same silver chain from years ago, and figured it was the guilt of sneaking off like a thief that made you hesitate in the doorway.
It was ridiculous, you had nothing to be guilty about: the sex meant nothing, just a way to vent out your frustration… Though it was even better than you remembered, the lack of drunkenness probably helped, but it was to be seen how much of a blessing being sober actually was.
As you made it back to your ship a few days later, you saluted a few cadets and made a beeline for your cabin. You had your hand on the handle of your quarters when a fellow officer and good friend stopped you.
‘’Hey, looks like you and your husband had a good time’’ the eye waggle baffled you, eyebrows scrunching in confusion as Alex’s grin grew wider pointing at your neck. ‘’It’s rare to see you so debauched, must have missed him a lot uh?’’ you could only smile awkwardly, very glad that only the subordinates saw you like this up until now.
‘’It had been a while since becoming officer… we got carried away’’
‘’I bet, it didn't take long before he wrote to you either.’’
‘’What do you mean? I just arrived.’’ you felt dread in the pit of your stomach, you hadn’t made any new letters to post and receive. Usually it's to me, from me, by me.
‘’I know, isn’t it sweet? He must have timed it so it would be delivered just as you came back. You’re so lucky, I wish I could find myself someone so loving and thoughtful.’’ they sighed before clapping you on the shoulder and handing you a blue envelope. ‘’I’ve been holding you back long enough, enjoy the rest of your evening off, we’re sailing extra early tomorrow so make sure to clock in sooner than later.’’
You thanked Alex and hurried into your rooms as soon as their figure disappeared down the corridor, flinging your bag in a corner before ripping into the enclosed letter.
To my dearest wife,
I hope this letter finds you well in a timely manner. I have been thinking about our little love squabble and have concluded that you were right to be angry. I’ve neglected you in these past years and I vow to remedy the situation as soon as possible, please consider this small gift a token of my sincerity.
With all my love,
Your darling husband
N.D.B.
There was nothing you could do but laugh, though it was a bit on the hysterical side.
The bastard really wrote me a letter. A pirate captain writing a 'love' letter to a marine officer through the marine post, is he insane?
Re-reading the few sentences you realize the ‘gift’ was missing, probably dropped to the ground in your haste. Looking around you spotted something shiny by your coffee table, bending over to retrieve the fallen object you gasped. It was a delicate silver chain with a simple minimalist vertical pendant encrusted of a dozen tiny white stones that looked like diamonds. It was breathtaking. It was most likely stolen, you'd have to check it first before wearing it.
You sat on the carpet for probably way too long, legs cramping when you finally got up. This whole situation was nuts. Deciding that nothing could be done at the moment, you stuffed the letter with the fake ones, noting with immense displeasure that his writing was just as pretty as his signature.
Whatever, he’ll grow tired of the charade once he realizes he’s not getting a reply.
With that thought, you went to bed in the hopes that in the morning your life would make sense again.