Chapter Text
They’d been beating him for weeks. Buggy looked like a shell of his former self, his lips set in a perpetual frown, not even bothering to paint his face anymore. Every night he would limp into their bedroom and collapse atop the silk sheets, often before he could remove his clothes. His body, though strengthened by a life at sea and his devil fruit abilities, was no match for the barrage that Crocodile and Mihawk were putting him through. He healed quickly, thank god, but they were beating him back down faster than he could regenerate. Alba could see it wearing on him, and by the end of the second month she had had her fill.
“Buggy, please,” she said one night as they laid in each others arms, “This has to stop. I can’t bear it.”
“No.”
“Listen to me, It’s not a big deal,” she pleaded, “It wouldn’t be forever, just until the debt is paid.”
“Alba, the debt will never be paid,” he said coldly, “This is my mess.” He heard her breath hitch as she looked at him.
“I can’t bear it, Buggy,” she was crying, “They’re going to kill you and you’re going to make me listen to it.” Alba had brought her plan to him many times, the first instance being the worst. He had exploded, a rage like she’d never seen coursing through him as he held her fiercely, his face contorted into a terrible snarl.
“I would rather die than have you take another man to bed, do you understand me?!”
That night he had made love to her for the first time in the weeks since Crocodile and Mihawks’ arrival. The ‘meeting’ earlier had been devoid of abuse, and Buggy had bounded into their rooms like a new man, up until the point she had asked him for permission. She wept when he refused, knowing that there was nothing she could do to help him. Buggy scooped her into his arms and did his best to rock away any worries she had been harboring about their new business partners. He took her back into his arms after, holding her against him as she ran her fingers through the curls on his chest. She was his, he would never let any other man touch her if he could help it.
Alba wished he would just give in. She couldn’t take another night of hearing him scream in agony from their torture chamber. The rest of the guild were utterly useless, growing complacent and scared at the mere mention of Crocodiles name. She wasn’t afraid of him though. She’d seen the way he looked at her, and she knew if she brought this arrangement to him, he wouldn’t refuse. She could have been well on her way to setting them free had Buggy just given in when she asked him the first time.
“I can’t take the thought of you with him,” he said finally, “you’re sacred, Alba. You’re my only comfort right now.”
“If you don’t let me do this, I’m leaving.” She hated herself for pulling her trump card. She hated that he made her pull it. Buggy looked at her, the pale blue of his eyes contrasting with the purple and black bruises that surrounded them. She saw as the tears began to form, as they ran down his battered face. All she wanted to do was rescue him, the way he’d rescued her so many times before. He pulled his arms from her and rolled over in their bed.
“Do what you think is right.”
None of it was right, not a single thing about this situation was right, but it's where they were. He had borrowed a lot of berry from Crocodile for his mercenary group. She didn’t have a number to quantify it, but she knew that when he and Mihawk had arrived to rescue them from the navy, they had suggested selling Buggy into slavery to make up the debt. That had been the day of his first session in the meeting room, and Alba had all but cried herself horse when he shambled back to her that night. She had never seen him as bloodied and bruised as that day, his hair matted and massive welts all over his body and face. Crocodile and Mihawk knew that Buggy’s devil fruit made him immune to swords, so they used their fists instead. Her poor love was no match for them, and he suffered endlessly for his crew's adoration.
Alba approached Crocodile late one evening, well after Buggy had passed out from the tincture she gave him. Her stomach was in knots as she knocked on his door. She wished she was back in their old cabin on the Big Top, holding her man close and twirling her fingers through his hair, back when she didn’t know anything about debts or ‘meeting’ rooms. She was looking away when he answered the door, cigar smoke alerting her to his impending presence.
“I’m shocked to see you,” he smirked, “come in, doll.” Crocodile held the door open for her and she sidled past him. She had the good sense to dress up to seduce him, a black velvet dress clinging deliciously to every curve on her body. She’d never worn this dress for Buggy and now that it had seen the inside of Sir. Crocodiles private rooms, she never would. Crocodile looked her up and down as she stood before him.
“You look like you belong here, you know.” Alba’s eyes shot up to him and she glared fiercely. The only place she belonged was in Buggy’s arms, not here in this horrible room that stank of tobacco and bourbon and expensive cologne. Crocodile chuckled darkly and puffed out his cigar as he crossed to the sofa. He sat down, leaning back and crossing one long leg over the other.
“What do I owe the pleasure of your company?”
“I came to propose an arrangement,” her voice cracked as she spoke and her cheeks flushed deeply. She let out a shaky breath and continued, “How much do we still owe you?”
“We?” He asked, cocking his head, “I don’t remember lending any money to you, gorgeous.”
“How much does Buggy still owe you?”
“Ahh, that’s what this is about,” Crocodile said as if he didn’t already know. He knew full well why she was here, he’d been waiting weeks for this, intentionally beating the clown to within an inch of his miserable life to send him back into her waiting arms. He knew how much she loved him, how she’d do anything to save him, and he was counting on it, even going as far as to speak to Mihawk about what he’d do if an arrangement was made. The truth was, Crocodile didn’t need to beat the shit out of Buggy anymore, he’d simply continued to force her hand. They could have been done reprimanding him weeks ago had she simply knocked on his door sooner.
“Are you going to answer me, or am I wasting my time here?” The sharpness in her voice made Crocodile blink and smile. She truly was a beauty, and her fiery tongue only made him hungrier for her. Alba feared nothing , or almost nothing, he supposed. She must have had some kind of fear in her if she was standing in front of him offering herself as payment for her idiot husbands’ debts. He took her in, the long, dark curls that draped her back, the way the black velvet made her porcelain skin look all the fairer. She was a vision, her rosy lips looking like two cherries in a bowl of cream, and he was starving for something sweet. He would get his money’s worth with her.
“He borrowed 3 million berry. The mercenary group took that number down by, and I’m being extremely generous, half.” He said as he puffed on his cigar, “How do you propose we settle the other 1.5?”
“I will make myself available to you,” she had her eyes down and her arms wrapped around herself as she spoke. She didn’t look very available in his opinion.
“No offense, doll, but you’re not worth 1.5 mil.” Her face shot up again and she took another ragged breath.
“I’m not proposing a singular transaction,” she said, “I would…continue until it was paid in full.” Crocodile raised his eyebrows to her and nodded, removing his cigar from his mouth. He beckoned her to him and she came forward. She was a luscious little thing, five feet and a bit with the heels she had worn to see him. He remained in his seat as he drew her closer, sitting up and putting his face into the crook of her neck, the way he’d seen Buggy do hundreds of times. He kissed her, his hand moving across the swell of her ass and down her thick thighs. He could see why the clown was so crazy about her, not that he couldn’t before. When he touched her, it was like electricity was coursing through his fingertips. It had been a long time since he wanted any woman this badly.
“I’ve never paid more than 50K for a woman,” he whispered to her, “I’ll double that for the first time, but after that, it's 50K per visit. What do you say to that, doll?” She was trembling against him, her body shaking from fear or excitement, he didn’t care which. He liked feeling her pulse change, hearing how her voice cracked when she spoke to him.
“F-fine,” she said, and Crocodile went to nip at her collarbone, “but, you can’t hurt him anymore. I won’t see you if you do.” He brought his face up to hers slowly.
“You’re not really in a position to-”
“I know you want me,” she said brazenly, “You wont hurt him while we have this arrangement, or it's done.” She felt him growl against her neck as he breathed her in, his hook sliding up and catching under the hem of her skirt.
“Any other rules?” He asked with a grin.
“No kissing, at least, not on the lips.”
“How romantic,” he mocked, his grin widening. “You’ve got a deal, sweetheart.” He had caught the zipper of her dress with his hook and dragged it down as he kissed her neck. The top of the dress fell to expose her beautiful, round tits and he took one into his mouth eagerly. She was silent, letting him flick and swirl his tongue without any indication that she was even in the room, and that enraged him. He dropped her from his mouth and grabbed her face in his hand.
“If you’re not going to participate and make this worth my money, you can get out,” he said dangerously, “I’m paying for you, so you better play the part better, doll.” He hadn’t had zero effect on her, her pretty blue eyes were wide and soft with pleasure, and he was sure if he reached between her legs she’d be wet for him, but he wanted to hear her. He had heard what the clown was able to pull from her, screams of pleasure, begging him to never stop fucking her. He was going to get all of that and then some. Crocodile put his arm around her waist and pulled her roughly into him, a small moan escaping her throat as he slammed their bodies together. She put a delicate hand on his chest to steady herself.
“I’ll do whatever you want, Crocodile.” He chuckled again and finished unzipping her dress.
“I know, now take off your dress. You won’t be needing it,” he put his lips back to her neck and bit down hard. Alba gasped and whined, the hand she had placed on his chest grabbing at his shirt. He let up and gave her space to step out of the dress as it fell in a puddle on the floor. Heavy-lidded violet eyes moved up and down her body and she shivered again, flinching only minutely at his touch. He grabbed her ass and brought her forward to straddle him on the couch, his mouth reclaiming her nipple. She lined up with his erection and was grinding herself atop him. Crocodile swapped arms behind her, keeping a steady amount of pressure on her hips as she rocked against him. The cold metal of his hook made her gasp and flinch in his arms, and he held onto her tighter.
“Are you scared of me, Alba?” He watched her open her eyes and meet his gaze with defiance.
“I feel sorry for you,” she said finally, never letting up the movement of her hips, “You’re all alone, lusting after another man's wife.”
“That other man's wife is getting ready to take my cock,” he said with a dark chuckle, “Don’t feel too sorry for me, doll.” He reached between her legs, his fingers easily finding, and pinching gently, the tight bud of her clitoris. He didn’t move or rub, just kept her securely between two fingers as she ground herself on him. Alba arched against him and whined, her head flying back and her arms snaking around his neck. She came hard on top of him and drew him into her breasts while she cried out in his arms. Crocodile kissed her as she trembled, her legs shaking around him. He released her clit and slipped a long finger inside of her and brought out another moan.
“Do you like having your pussy played with?” He asked against her neck, sliding another finger into her and curling up, “Tell me how much you like it, doll.” She was riding his hand aggressively, crying out again in record time. She was neglected, no doubt, desperate for a man's touch, even if it wasn’t the man she wanted.
“I…I-” she couldn’t get her thoughts out. Alba didn’t want to come for him, but she did want to come. It had been weeks since Buggy had touched her and she felt every bit as useless as she had when he refused to let her help him. She didn’t blame him, how could he want to fuck anything when he just got done getting an ass-beating by two monsters. Crocodile didn’t touch her like Buggy did, but if she closed her eyes, she could pretend. She could escape to the silk sheets and the sway of the ship as her husband slipped his fingers-
“Look at me,” Crocodile said, his hand leaving her emptier than she’d ever been, “I know what you’re doing. You’re not going to think about him here. When you’re in here, you’re mine .” Alba nodded, her breath catching in her throat. A tear fell down her cheek and Crocodile wiped it away with his thumb.
“Use those pretty hands to take my cock out, I’m ready to find out what the big deal is.” Alba was working on removing his belt when she looked back up at him. He was grinning viciously and had picked up his cigar again. “He talks a lot about how heavenly your pussy feels, I’m eager to see if the clown has any taste.” She was very flustered, her cheeks deeply flushed and her hands shaking with embarrassment. Crocodile batted her hands out of the way and undid his trousers after she struggled for a moment. Alba hid her face in her hands and fought desperately the urge to burst into tears. She was here to help her husband, she needed to get her shit together and fuck this guy and leave, not let him into her head. She felt Crocodile wrap both arms around her and pull her into his chest.
“Shhh,” he said, causing Alba to freeze. She had never seen even a hint of softness from him, and yet here he was attempting to comfort her. She hated how close he was, how good his strong arms felt around her, she hated him.
“I crossed the line,” he whispered to her, “It won't happen again. I told you not to think about him and here I am bringing him up.” She felt him kiss the top of her head and she sat up, pushing away as he held her.
“Please, don’t,” she pleaded, “You can’t…hold me like that, or kiss me like that.” She shook her head and wet her lips, tears still fresh in her eyes, “I don’t want your kindness, I’m not here to be unfaithful to him.”
“Stop giving me rules to follow, Alba.” Crocodile had taken himself out of his trousers and was teasing her entrance. She hadn’t looked down to see it yet, but the feeling of his bulbous head against her clit was enough to tell her that he was larger than Buggy. “The deal’s been struck and the terms are agreed upon already, you should have brought that up earlier.” He began to push into her slowly, gently, as if he knew he was going to need a lot of time to open her up. She heard him draw a ragged breath as she whined.
“Please, go slow,” he had started to push harder into her and she flinched again, the girth of him making her whimper softly. Crocodile looked up into her face, cheeks flushed, pretty lips parted for him while she panted. He wanted to kiss her badly, but he’d agreed to the rules and he’d play by them. He brought her forward and kissed her neck, the new angle allowing him to press further into her.
“Crocodile,” she breathed, and he finally understood. Her voice was like nothing he had heard before. The note of desperation, the lovely way she gasped and whined as he touched her, he got the whole picture. This was the clown's true treasure. This sexy little woman, the absolute embodiment of desire on earth, was worth every berry he would fuck into her. He started moving in and out of her, causing her to fall forward on his chest and cry out. He spread her cheeks, his hook carefully angled away, as he drove his cock into her faster. She was very tight, and he wasn’t going to get to enjoy her much longer, but she would loosen up just enough tomorrow or the next day. He was looking forward to that, to having his cake and eating Alba too.
“Oh, oh,” she cried, trying to brace herself on his chest. She looked up at him with a furrowed brow and he wrapped his arm around her again to guide her up. Alba moaned and began to ride him aggressively, her hands clutching at his chest.
“How does it feel?” He whispered to her, biting her earlobe and tugging, “how does my cock feel inside you?”
“Huge,” she gasped, and he laughed outright.
“Not really what I was looking for, but I’ll take it,” he chuckled, kissing her neck and chest again. She smelled like a fresh bouquet of white flowers, innocent, completely at odds with the way she was riding him. He’d have to get her a different perfume to wear when she visited his rooms, something more appropriate. Crocodile brought his hand down to her mound and rubbed her clit.
“I’m- oh my god,” she cried, “you’re going to make me come again.” Her voice was strange, half pleasure drunk and half terrified. Alba had her arms tightly around Crocodiles neck as he continued to tip her over the edge. She didn’t want to look into his eyes while she came, so she shut hers tightly when she felt herself snap. The feeling of her tightening around the entirety of his shaft was nirvana, hearing her cry out his name was better. He couldn’t help himself and spilled into her, dragging her forward and kissing those beautiful, soft, pink lips deeply. She melted into his arms, hers still tightly clasped around his neck as he rode the last bit of his orgasm out inside her. He continued to kiss her, her lips feeling softer than an angel's wing. Alba’s eyes fluttered open, expecting to see shocking blue hair and a red nose. Instead, Crocodile's violet stare met her, causing her to pull away abruptly. She pulled herself off of him and jumped out of his lap, running into the bathroom with tears streaming down her face.
He left her in there for a while, not really wanting her to cry all over his expensive shirt. When he heard her quiet, he knocked on the door, her dress over his shoulder. Crocodile handed it to her and waited for her to slip it on and turn around so he could zip it.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said after she’d turned back to him. He lifted her chin and wiped her tears away gently, “don’t beat yourself up, doll.”
“I thought…” She started but didn’t finish. He chuckled at her, his hand still under her chin.
“Look at me,” he said, and her eyes flew up, “It won't do you any good to deny that you liked it. A kiss on the lips or no, you still came for me.” Her lip was trembling, she wished he would let her leave now.
“May I please leave, Sir Crocodile?” Alba asked softly. He bent down and kissed her again.