Latest Posts by andradaveselu - Page 3
Aftercare (Buggy x GN!Reader)
Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, buggy x GN!reader, mentions of sex, things get emotional at the end - poor communication, mentions of insecurities and crossed boundaries, crying, but things are alright in the end. Word count: ~1k A/N at the end. 👀
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When Buggy gets into aftercare, he does it so right. It takes time (a lot of time) and multiple tries for him to understand what aftercare is, why it’s important, and what to even do. And once it clicks, he is all in.
At first, he’d try to clean up using whatever was around. Discarded clothes were the usual, but the scolding he received when he tried to pull off a pillowcase turned things around. A little. After that, he’d send a hand off to grab a towel, if you didn’t grab one beforehand.
Eventually, Buggy realized he could keep towels near the bed. It worked out well, actually. He found space for a few different sizes - small washcloths, hand towels, and full-size towels - so there were always a few options. The washcloths were also helpful whenever he forgot to wipe off his face paint before bed.
If you two banged anywhere other than the bedroom, he’d offer his bandana to clean up. That was acceptable the first few times, but it was still kinda gross. He noticed the grimace you made one time and started carrying alternatives. Spare (unworn) bandanas, which worked as an extra accessory. Or scarves tucked in a sleeve, which could be used as an impromptu magician’s trick.
Want a snack? This was never a problem for Buggy, actually. He had food hidden around the bedroom. Everywhere. Near his bedside, in the closet, and in his desk. If you wanted something in particular, he would scrounge it up and grab food for his own munchies. Oh, thirsty? For something that wasn’t alcohol? He’d get a drink if you asked, or if he went off to find you food. It's easiest to keep the carafe in the room filled.
Ready to cuddle? Hell yes. Buggy is a glutton for attention, so cuddles are no problem. Honestly, he falls asleep most of the time afterwards. You learned to nudge him to clean up and use the bathroom before curling up with each other. He complained far less once you explained that he didn’t need to leave the bed entirely to take care of those things. His legs and a spare hand would get up and go to the bathroom while you snuggled his top half, pressing your chest on his bare back.
And on the flipside, sometimes Buggy would get incredibly sentimental and touchy towards you. Running his fingers through your hair, propping himself up so he could look at your face, wrapping himself around you and hiding his face in your neck. Anything to keep you close.
Talking was the hardest part of aftercare. Buggy liked to talk about what was good. What turned you on, what he enjoyed, what would be fun to try next. But talking about anything harder was…difficult. Things that wouldn’t be fun to do again, comments that hurt feelings, and the periodic uncomfortable emotions after sex - spurred on by self-doubt, body image issues, or outside stress. Buggy would clam up or leave if he thought any of those topics were coming up, which would only add to the problem until it exploded and you two were arguing into the night.
Buggy only realized how important this part was when you started pulling away. You became more closed off, not talking about yourself as much. Sure, you’d tell each other in the moment if you disliked anything, but you stopped checking in again afterwards. You still seemed bubbly and happy, but he could see shadows on your face.
You’d go through the motions after sex - nestling into him to cuddle, telling him what you enjoyed, making sure he was content, but that was it. You stopped pressing, stopped trying to build a new boundary.
That hurt him. It ate at him every time you avoided the topics he also avoided. Eventually, the pain came out.
Your head was resting on his shoulder and your fingers stroked the cerulean hair on his chest. His hand was on your shoulder as he held you close. You both just finished talking about the session - only the positives - and the room was silent. Buggy felt the quiet suffocating him, especially because he could tell you had moved on. You weren’t waiting to talk about anything else, since you were already resigned to the premature end of the conversation.
Pressing his lips against your forehead, Buggy blinked back tears you couldn’t see. “Was there anything you didn’t like? How do you feel?” The questions were gravelly and hesitant.
You could hear the beating in his chest get faster. You tried to push yourself up to look him in the face, to see what game he was playing, but he gripped your shoulder tighter and kissed your forehead again.
“Please tell me, I wanna know…” He spoke the words into you.
Hot tears fell on his chest, trapped between your squished cheek and his skin. You wrapped an arm around his torso and squeezed, wanting him as painfully close as possible. And then you shared. You unloaded. There was a lot you held in and once the dam broke, you couldn’t stop. And he didn’t want you to stop.
You told him about your insecurities. About things that you already said you didn’t like, but more. Why you felt the way you did. Why sometimes it was okay and sometimes it wasn’t. On bad days, you don’t really want to be called certain names. When you don’t feel good about yourself, there are things he does that make it better and things that make it worse.
Buggy nodded as you spoke, his face still pressed against the top of your head. His sniffles matched yours. He asked questions. He cared. And when you were done, it was his turn.
The conversation went long into the night. At the end, you were both drained. You felt a headache coming on from all the crying. Buggy’s eyes stung from the tears and remnants of face paint. You two looked awful, honestly. One look at each other and you both broke into tears that walked hand in hand with laughter. How could you let it get this bad? That was terrible! And yet, you did it. You both made it through and things were okay.
Once you both ran out of steam, it was time for food, some water, and a shower. Then sleep, full of sweet, sweet dreams.
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A/N: Wanna know what you did that Buggy didn’t like? It was when you said, “I’m going to screw you until your fucking nose rolls off.”
He was very upset about that. Very. Upset. Which is understandable, really. You’ve both moved past it now and every once in a blue moon he’ll joke about it - if you’re getting on his nerves, Buggy will tell you that you’re going to make his nose roll off.
Godemiché (LA!Buggy the Clown x F!Reader)
Summary: Do you know it’s him that’s fucking you?
Pairing: LA!Buggy the Clown x F!Reader
Rating: 🌶️ Explicit 🌶️
Word Count: ~700
Warnings: Dubcon elements, improper use of Devil Fruit powers.
A/N: i do not know what possessed me to write this.
———
It started as a joke. You, a sprightly young thing with twinkling eyes and a dirty sense of humor, unused to the close quarters that came with crewing on a ship. Him, a dirty old bastard with a detachable cock. He presented it to you in a soft cloth bag, grinning mischievously.
“Use it in the dark,” he said with a wink.
He didn't think you would. He thought he'd hear a scream in the middle of the night followed by you slapping him with it the next morning. He may have grown older, but he never really grew up.
But no.
What he feels that night, just as he's drifting off to sleep, is a delicate hand around his shaft. He jerks upright, head whipping around to catch the intruder and hand going to his crotch.
But there's nothing there, neither tackle nor intruder. He panics a moment, only to remember what he’d done and where it is.
It’s currently in your possession. And you’re using it.
The gentle prickle of hair tickles his shaft. You must be sliding it between your pussy lips. How’d you know he was weak for that? For a woman in her natural, unkempt state?
And then it grows warm and smooth and wet. He’s inside you. He feels your muscles shift as you take all of him, easing him in and out, getting him good and lubricated.
He almost chokes.
You’re already quite wet, and it slips and slides in and out with ease. Hot cunt, cool air. He grinds into the air, gasping with each distant thrust.
You grow slicker with each pump. Finally, you take him to the hilt, his entire cock sheathed inside your warmth. You clench him tight.
The air isn't enough. He groans and flips onto his belly. Grabbing a pillow, he mounts it like a dog in heat.
He squeezes his eyes shut. If he pretends, if he thinks real hard, it can be you. He is fucking you, after all. It’s not like he hasn’t been dreaming of this since you climbed aboard — hell, even before that, when he first saw you milling about the docks.
Do you know? he wonders as his hips grind. Do you know it's him that’s fucking you?
Your walls flutter, pulling him deeper. You’re coming. And coming. And coming. Must have been a long one. He wishes he could see you fold and buck and your eyes screw shut and your breath hitch and—
He tries not to come. He tries so, so hard. But he fails.
Burying his face in the mattress, he whines your name, high and sweet as a cotton candy cloud. He grinds his hips into the pillow, praying that he’s dreaming and that he’ll open his eyes to see you underneath him.
But alas.
He empties fast and plummets back to Earth. Falling to the side, he reflects on what a pathetic, dirty old man he is.
He can't look you in the eye the next morning. Avoids you at breakfast. Dodges you all afternoon. But you corner him in the evening. Quite literally. He's in the aft hold when you get between him and the door.
Your hands darts out. In a few quick movements, you've undone his trousers and jerked them open. He's too stunned to even cover himself.
Pulling his waistband away from his body, you withdraw something from your pocket and drop it inside. He expects an ice cube. Or a firecracker. He braces himself for pain...
... But it doesn't come. Instead, his equipment returns to its rightful spot, a red silk ribbon tied in a bow adorning his shaft.
“You can have it back, but I’m gonna need that again soon,” you say. You give him a saucy wink and slip out the door.
Well. Seems like you did know.
———
To the Mastahpost | To the Tip Jar
Did anyone happened to make a list with all the episodes of One Piece in which Buggy appears?
Close your eyes, just settle, settle
Word count: ~1.4k Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, buggy x GN!reader, no use of Y/N, partaking in the devil's lettuce 🍃, masturbation while fantasizing about sex, assumed unrequired infatuation, smidge of edging/delayed orgasm, lil bit of angst and shame at the end. Apparently I have a thing for lonely perv buggy whoops
Title from "A Decade Under the Influence" by Taking Back Sunday
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Moonbeams seep into the room. Slow and lazy, easily caught in the swirling heady smoke. A lighter clicks. A deep inhale followed by a slow exhale, nearly a sigh, adds to the drifting currents. Buggy sinks into his pillows, the softness tricking his body into thinking it might fall straight through.
While the pirate prefers copious amounts of alcohol as his main vice, some nights he’ll indulge in a different session. A sticky feeling on his fingertips, the taste of fire and ash, a deeply earthy smell that’s pleasantly unpleasant. It doesn’t take long for the smoke to blur the edges of his mind and stretch it out like loose cotton. The fiber seems to extend throughout his body, replacing muscle with fluff, and wicking away moisture in his mouth.
His body moves to meet the craving while the thoughts are still traversing the maze in his head. He pauses for a moment, holding the glass of water, and waits for the next step to reveal itself. Drink. Of course. He gulps down the refreshing liquid. Quickly, greedily.
Coolness rushes in his body, a tide of crisp hydration. Rivulets escape the corners of his mouth, coursing down his chin and neck, before stopping among the blue curls on his chest. Buggy sets down the glass and returns to the nest of pillows, feeling at home with the cushioning.
The water on his body is cold. Then warm. It feels good. His body reacts with goosebumps. His nipples harden. Now that’s all he can think about - two points of tension sending electricity through his soft, fluid body. Buggy closes his eyes and follows the trail, visiting the body parts as they light up. His biceps and shoulders. Fingertips. Ribcage and stomach. Skin held under the tight waistband of his underwear. Thighs under the fabric. Everything that’s encased in the only clothing he has on.
The signal concentrates in one spot and Buggy’s not sure if he willed that to happen. But it does. He feels the swelling. Movement. Growth. Pulses that flash thoughts in his head. Thoughts of you. It always happens - there’s a connection that Buggy can’t break. The bobbing of his dick easily catches the teasing images swimming through his imagination.
Buggy’s body is heavy. He tries to ignore himself, despite his cock crying for attention. Precum is already seeping into his underwear and smears with each throb. Fuck, it feels good. He still tries to ignore it, though. The fabric dances against the underside of his sensitive head. Buggy bites his lip and indulges for a moment, letting the tension move his erection. Feeling it fight against the fabric before falling with a sticky sound on his pelvis. A sound that he desperately wants to recreate with you. Rubbing and hitting his dripping tip against your flushed cheeks. Across your kiss-bruised lips. On your thighs.
Body moving faster than his mind once again, Buggy slips a hand - just a hand - under the waistband and drags it along his swollen cock. It’s hot and needy beneath his touch. Moving his hand lower, the pirate cups his heavy balls. Still soft and pliable, they fill his grasp and flow with a gentle massage.
His mind was too focused on touch and forgot to remind the pirate to breathe. Really breathe. A lungful of oxygen reignites the herby air in his body, somehow adding to the haze in his head, rather than clearing it out. Feeling his control fraying, Buggy releases the anchor and floats in the body high. He pulls off his underwear and lets his body meld into the soft sheets and pillows, becoming a part of the environment.
Buggy closes his eyes and looks for you. He’s seen your face flushed from exertion, so it’s easy to reframe the scene and imagine you looking down at him like that. Your sparkling eyes glazing over with lust, redness spreading from your cheeks to your ears, tongue darting out to lick your delicious lips. He thumbs the tip of his cock, swirling the viscous precum around his head in anticipation of the vision of you lowering yourself down.
Frowning in concentration, he thinks about how you’d gasp feeling his flared head enter your body. The way you’d sink down slowly, giving your body time to adjust and to memorize the feel of his member. Buggy drags a loose grasp along his cock, imagining it dragging along your insides. Releasing a shaky breath, he tightens his grip. It’s nothing like how your heat would feel, but it helps him fantasize.
He squeezes down to the base, wanting to be fully sheathed in your body. His cock twitches within the imposed prison, a sensation that would probably have you whine in response. Seeking more, you’d rock your hips and grind. Buggy can’t replicate that, so he adds to the scene instead. Your hands on his chest, holding yourself up. His touch would run up your thighs and to your rolling hips, before reaching around to your ass. He’d grope and squeeze, pulling your asscheeks apart so he feels deeper. So you feel fuller. So full that you have to let out the moans and whimpers you had been holding in.
Buggy fists himself faster. His balls start to tighten and he feels the thread in his body grow taut. You’re amazing. Lovely. You’d feel so good. His foggy head can only focus on directing the manifestation, not on an accompanying script. The words he’d want to say simply come out. Not for him to hear, but to taste. To feel in his mouth, just as he feels you riding him.
“F-fuck, you’re taking it so well. You’re taking me so well.” “You make me feel good, baby.” “I can feel you twitching on m-my cock.” “Tell me how full you feel.” “Fuck, harder p-please.” “Yeah, just like that. Keep going, gonna cum.” “N-no, stop teasing. P-put it back in. Please, please…”
Despite his looming climax, Buggy pulls back and whimpers between gasping breaths. He maintains a hold at the head of his distressed cock. How sinful you’d look like that, with just the tip of his dick stretching you out. Bucking against his hold, Buggy can see how you’d tremble from thrusts that don’t bottom, from a teasing touch that would break you when you give in. And you would. You’d fall to his sweet words and promises.
“I’ll make you feel so good. Don’t you want to cum on my cock?” “Please, I w-want to feel you. I need to feel you squeeze me.” “S’like my dick was made for you.” “Fuck, l-let me put it in, please. Wanna be deep in you.”
He’d wait until you let him. His toes would curl. His breath would hitch. He’d bite his lips. He’d beg. And when you do let him fully thrust into you, you’d fall apart.
Buggy fucks his fist without abandon, through the climax that would have you shaking on top of his body, crying out for the pleasure overwhelming you. Imaginary pleasure that snaps his own thread, the tension exploding from his cock and all over his hand and stomach. There’s a lot. You’d feel it fill your insides and some would escape with each thrust. Buggy groans as he milks every drop, imagining the pearls that would escape when you pull yourself off of him. As much as he wants you to stay, the vision drifts away until it’s lost in the empty swirling air.
The hot ecstasy in his body also starts to dissipate, leaving behind an uncomfortable emptiness. Buggy uses his discarded underwear to clean up. The still-warm jizz leaves a chill slick as the fabric struggles to soak the sticky liquid. Swallowing his disgust, Buggy scrapes the cloth against himself hard, scrubbing the unwelcome remnants. It’s still not the best cleaning job. He still feels dirty. Scummy, both inside and out.
Buggy drops the soiled clothing onto the floor and reaches towards the side table so he can burn the guilt into ash. Smoke fills his lungs, but not the aching void in his chest. Falling back with a sigh, Buggy tries to replace the hole with promises that are just as empty. Plans to talk to you. To tell you how he feels. To face fear, rather than drown in remorse. Anything to chase away the loneliness he’s surrounded himself with.
Ignoring the sting pricking the corners of his dry eyes, Buggy lets his mind follow the hope until it flies too high and he falls back to sleep.
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A/N: Gonna keep sharing the lines that I particularly like. This time it's "The words he’d want to say simply come out. Not for him to hear, but to taste. To feel in his mouth, just as he feels you riding him."
Word count: ~550 Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, buggy x afab!reader, buggy's a total perv, brief mentions of sex, throwing knives is an acceptable act of foreplay, some crossdressing.
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Buggy steals underwear. He's a panty-thief.
The pirate picked up this hobby after you both fucked the first time. He wanted something to remember the night by, so Buggy slipped your underwear into his coat pocket when you weren’t looking. He used those panties to jack off many many times afterwards.
The next heist was the day you two barely had a moment together. Every time you thought you could sneak away, every time you found a quiet corner, every time you were about to tear off each other’s clothes, there was an interruption. When it was finally time to fuck, your panties were soaked. Sopping. It was like the ocean herself found a new home. When you finally pulled off your underwear, there was a thread of slick connecting your dripping cunt to your panties and Buggy was entranced. When you weren’t looking, Buggy licked your panties. The taste of your essence soaked into the fabric nearly made him explode in his own hands. He didn’t plan to steal these, but you forgot to grab them when you hurried out the next morning and he conveniently forgot to give them back.
Then there was the lacy lingerie you bought. You didn’t tell him, but you picked red because it reminded you of his nose. This was the set that he got off your body by throwing his knives. (It was consensual foreplay, okay?) You didn’t want to keep the destroyed items, but Buggy did. He liked how they smelled like you.
The next pair was a surprise to you both. The panties were simple, not particularly sexy or exciting. They were comfortable and soft. Buggy liked how you looked wearing them and he was curious. Would they look as cute on him? He tried them on one day and thought they sorta looked good. He wasn’t sure, so he put them back. A few days later, he tried them on again. The panties did look nice. The fabric hugged his ass like it did yours. But they are yours, so he put them back. Another few days passed and this time you were wearing the underwear. Buggy threw out an offhand comment about being jealous of how good they look on you, so you offered to let him try. He tried to decline, but really did want to put them on again. So he did. And you agreed with the thoughts in Buggy's head - he looked good in those panties. Now they’re his.
He stole another pair of underwear at the urge of a clever thought. Buggy had the bright idea to sew some of the fabric into one of his gloves. A dirty little secret just for him. One crafternoon later and he had the filthy accessory ready. It only took a day to realize it was not a clever thought. It was a clever fantasy that should have not been brought to life. All he could think about was how the fabric on his palm was the same fabric that touched your pussy. No other thoughts could survive in that filthy gutter, so he retired those gloves and went back to panty-less hands.
He stole the most recent pair out of necessity. And to fuck with you. Having misplaced his bandana (or so he claimed), Buggy stole one of your thongs and used it to tie up his hair. He made sure you saw him do it, but fled with a cackle before you could snatch the garment off his head. No one would be able to tell, but it would irritate you all day. Frustrations that Buggy planned to help relieve you of later.
Buggy steals panties. But only because you let him. ❤️
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A/N: The way I would slap Buggy's panty-clad ass and worship that sweet clown 😩❤️
buggy alternate designs bc i can 💥💥💥💥 NO HAT bc his hair is too fun
Crocodile to Robin: Really? The goofy looking cyborg? *sideye*
Robin to Crocodile: Really? The goofy looking clown? *smirk* Didn't think you could get lower than Doflamingo.
Crocodile: His devil fruit can have some interesting applications. I will not elaborate.
Robin: I see....you have always been a pillow princess at heart.
Meanwhile Franky and Buggy are blowing up shit in the background, psyching each other up and saying dumb vaguely inspirational shit to each other, completely unaware of the dick measuring contest five paces to the left of them
This is just the way my divorced parents talk to each other so I can definitely see this happening
I laughed so hard at this im sorry
tw loud
Yippee 💀🎉
take figures out of their boxes btw. sew patches on your favorite jacket. go to bed with your favorite plushes. wear the pants you usually save for special occasions. draw something cool on your wall. put a sticker on your laptop. dye your hair and pierce your lips. glass is meant to break, metal is meant to rust. items are meant to be used. that's how the world knows that somebody loved them.
when buggy likes someone, he writes cringey poetry like a smitten teenager.
A Favor for the Captain - Chapter 2 | NSFW (Buggy x afab!reader)
→ Chapter 1
Description: The day after helping your captain with a favor, you end up stuck on night duty again. As much as Buggy wanted to avoid you and his feelings, he still has something he needs your help with. Word count: ~2.3k A/N: This is the last chapter for this story. Sorry it took so long, perfectionism and imposter syndrome fight dirty, lol. I hope you enjoy this! Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, buggy x afab!reader, no use of Y/N, dry humping, heavy petting, buggy is still bad at feelings and communicating. All parties are consenting adults. Tags: @angeli-fucking-cat
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You woke up the next day as restless as the sea. Waves swayed the ship as you slept, rocking your body through memories of the night before, cloaked in dreams. A party of stars laughed and danced around you, each one burning brighter than the next, until they all exploded into darkness leaving you behind. Whispers of loneliness and confusion slipped away like sand as the mid-morning sun carried you to consciousness.
A big yawn and stretching didn’t shake the sleep from your body as efficiently as sharp knocks at the door, followed by words that flipped your stomach with an icy chill.
“Hey, you ‘wake? I need a favor.”
With the weight of an iceberg in your body, you cracked the door and were greeted by a face of desperation and hope worn by one of your crewmates. You slumped against the doorframe as relief melted the tension in your body. The pirate frantically explained that he was scheduled for night duty and needed to switch, but everyone he asked so far had refused. The reasoning was difficult to follow. There was something about a friend of their cousin, dancing, a dinner party, and not wanting to let down family. Once the pieces were cobbled together, you were able to see the whole puzzle.
“So, you don’t want to miss a date with a townie?” you asked bluntly.
“I mean- well- that’s a part of it. Ya’ see, I told him that…”
You cut off the rerun by agreeing to swap duties - one overnight shift for two bathroom cleaning shifts. After an appreciative handshake with both of his hands wrapped around one of yours, he bounced off to prepare for the date. His jubilant exit left you wondering if you should have bargained for a better deal. At least this gave you a reason to look for the meteor shower again. You ignored the pit in your stomach, choosing to believe it was from the last-minute changes and not related to anything else that might involve stars or favors.
With only a half-day left before your shift, you headed to town for food and freedom. Elsewhere, someone breathed easier knowing that you were no longer on the ship. It was only a coincidence that the captain was watching the dock when you departed. He’s responsible for his crew and should monitor who comes and goes - that’s what Buggy told himself. Truthfully, he kept finding reasons to stay near portholes so that he could look for you without the risk of getting too close.
Buggy felt dirty. Shame had him in a vice grip - stuck between remorse about what happened and guilt because he enjoyed it. Commitment to the crew had you willingly follow your captain’s filthy, degrading orders. Every lecherous detail - the way you felt, how you sounded, your sinful expressions - was etched into his memory. Yet, he still wanted more. For that reason, he also wanted to avoid you.
The second desire was bypassed when Buggy went to check on the night guard. Unaware of the shift change, he didn’t expect to see you lounging against the railing, back to the sea. Most of the crew opted to stay on shore when they weren’t working, and the rare few who did come back only returned to sleep. Unfortunately for Buggy, you were awake, alone, and alert. Despite darkness flooding the deck, the captain was in clear view. What fucking luck. He considered a wordless exit, but before he could retreat, you called out to him.
“Good evening, Captain.”
A simple greeting. One that tugged at his achy heart and added to the guilty pressure he felt. He knew that walking away would only add to the restlessness. Pulling courage from the part of him that was glad to have an excuse to be near you, Buggy walked over to return the greeting. He joined you in leaning along the railing, foolishly hoping that your presence might actually pacify the turmoil in his body.
The tension radiating from your captain mirrored the nervousness you felt. It was obvious you startled him and you didn’t know why. Not exactly. Did he want to see someone else? Was he trying to avoid you? Both questions were similar and neither offered comfort. You stared at the illuminated town, hoping to find clarity in your tangled thoughts. The ambient sound of waves from the sandy shore and trickles of music emphasized the silence on the ship.
“On guard duty, again?” Buggy repeated his questioning from last night, feeling stuck in the stillness between you two.
You wondered if that was the answer you were looking for. The captain of the ship wasn’t aware of who was protecting the ship and expected to see someone else. That sounded reasonable and the thought made your heart lighter.
“Yeah, I was asked to swap shifts. Something about going on a date,” you explained while waving a hand towards town.
“You- going on a date?” The question cannonballed out of the pirate’s mouth faster than he thought it, along with an uncontrolled glare. Both were met with a confused look.
“Not me… I just swapped shifts,” you responded with a softness that disarmed him.
Buggy nodded silently, his jealousy collapsing into humiliation. Unlike yesterday, being near you was anything but peaceful. Each piece of him was screaming to get closer and he could hardly control himself. Everything he did or said added to the rubble of guilt he was trapped under.
“It gives me another chance to look for shooting stars, though.” You continued talking, desperate to move past the awkward miscommunication by clinging to one topic that felt safe.
“I guess you haven’t seen any yet. If I knew you were here, I woulda came prepared.” Buggy picked up on your unspoken cue. Following the script, he aimed a finger towards the sky above the town and cocked his hand back as he let loose an imaginary shot.
“Well, there’s always next time.” And with that, the space between you two shrank.
Buggy marveled at how you handled his clumsy conversational skills with ease. Each step he took with uncertainty or pushed by feelings he couldn’t handle, you redirected until he was on the path he really wanted. One that he could pretend he was walking with you, hand in hand.
“You don’t mind being stuck on the ship while the island is all freaked out?” Buggy chuckled when you groaned at his choice of words.
“Not at all, actually. I like it here…I like the ocean.” You turned your back to the town and spoke to the water’s horizon. “I also don’t mind helping out when I can. I’m just glad to be part of your crew.”
His crew. You watched Buggy in the corner of your eyesight, hoping he understood what you were telling him. Nerves had you dancing around the subject, afraid to get too close to the fire burning in your chest. But the light and the heat were too much to ignore or keep inside.
The spark you sent his way ignited thoughts that were far too flammable. Fragile ideas that housed his insecurities. Buggy heard that you liked to help the crew. That must be why you indulged him yesterday - you simply wanted to help the captain of the crew you belong to. Anything beyond that was a shadow puppet cast by his desire and used to chase away loneliness. Something inside the pirate clung to that puppet, begging Buggy to say the words that would let the errant fire consume him entirely. He listened to that small voice and chose to believe the ache in his body was just physical desire.
“In that case, I need you to help me with something,” Buggy said before stepping behind you.
The familiar tone in his voice had your heart pounding wildly. A similar sensation was mirrored down lower as Buggy pressed his body against yours. With gloved hands holding the railing on each side, you were surrounded. Buggy rested his head on the back of yours as he fitted his body around your form, only softening when you eased into his touch.
You weren’t surprised by his hardness this time. Actually, you may have surprised Buggy with how you accepted his request. His grip on the railing tightened as you pressed your ass against his erection to make sure it was nestled and snug.
“Is this what you need help with, Captain?” You hoped the shake in your voice was unnoticeable. A nod against the back of your head confirmed both hopes, so you began to grind against him.
Buggy’s face was buried in your hair and the roll of your ass against his cock took away what little breath he had left. In need of fresh air, he moved his head until his cheek was resting on your shoulder. Now he could clearly hear the quiet huffs you let out as you rolled your hips. The sweet sounds enticed his body to buck against yours, making the soft sounds crescendo into throaty moans that you tried to hold back. Craving more, Buggy pressed his lips against your neck. Your skin was hot and smelled delicious. He needed a taste.
The feel of his tongue and heavy breath on your neck sent electricity through your body. Every nerve was lit up, lighting the way for instinct to come and overtake your mind and body. The slide of Buggy’s cock against your ass did nothing for how your body desperately craved more. Your underwear was soaked and you could feel the slickness as you angled your hips to grind against his entire length. The slippery feeling filled your head with images of his thick cock sliding deep into your dripping cunt before fucking you like an animal.
“C-captain, can I-” Your words were cut off as a hand flew up and squeezed your cheeks, silencing you like the night before. Frustrated, you snatched Buggy’s hand off your face and shoved it between your legs.
“I wanna come,” you whined as you pressed his fingers against your clothed folds until there was contact with your needy clit. You guided his movements, making his digits circle and massage exactly where you needed them.
Buggy’s hips stuttered, before moving to a rhythm that your unrestrained sounds orchestrated. His thrusts were hard, wedging his aching cock in your ass and helping him imagine he was fucking your pussy. Imagining how it would hold and squeeze him, as if it didn’t want his cock to leave. As if it belonged there. As if he belonged with you. Giving in to those feelings, Buggy smothered your neck and shoulder with sloppy kisses in between mindless moans that tickled your skin.
His impassioned attention was fierce and intense, overwhelming you until your body gave in with a loud cry. Trembling against your captain, ecstasy took over. Your blissed-out sounds and movements carried Buggy with you. His hand continued rubbing your clit under your shaky grasp as you both rode through your climaxes.
Eventually, his movements stilled and your sounds quieted down. Buggy’s chest pressed against your back with each heavy breath. His hand returned to the railing, taking its warmth away. He felt weak, both physically and mentally. Seeing, hearing, feeling your orgasm against his body was more than he ever hoped for, but it only happened because you were following your captain’s orders. Because you’re a nice person.
“That felt good…I’m glad you needed my help.” Your breathless voice cut through the noise in Buggy’s head, but didn’t bring comfort.
“Don’t say that,” he snapped with a little more bite than he meant. He didn’t need your help, he just took advantage of your willingness to help.
“Why?” you asked as you turned to face him, despite being caged by his arms.
Buggy avoided your gaze, wishing that his body would finish recovering so he could leave. This wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have. He would rather have his perverted memory tainted by self-pity, not by vulnerability or because he hurt your feelings.
Cautiously, you placed a hand on one of his before picking it up. You removed his glove and repeated the question, breaking through the wall he hid behind. Green eyes finally met your gaze as he succumbed to your request for sincerity.
“You were just following orders. Doing something nice for the captain of your crew,” he spat. “Saying that kind of shit might make me think that I could be more than just your ‘captain.’”
The words hardly left his mouth before they were replaced by your lips. You pressed into the kiss, ignoring how his mouth twitched with words that died under the contact. Pulling back, you were greeted with eyes opened wide in shock and you had to hold in a giggle.
“You can think that. I would like it if you were more than that…if this was something more.”
Buggy studied your face, looking for any hint of a joke. Deep inside, he knew you wouldn’t tease him like this. You refused to waver under his scrutinizing stare, holding fast until he accepted your unabashed confession.
“Me?” he finally croaked out. You nodded in response so quickly that Buggy felt butterflies fill his chest with the same eagerness.
You watched patiently as he leaned in, hesitated, and then closed the space for another kiss. This one was messy and full of nervous excitement. Buggy started talking against your lips long before he pulled away.
“M’gonna extend the stay.” He planted kisses on your cheeks. “You’re also off guard duty - there are more important things that you should be doing than this.”
“Like you?” He set you up for the response and you couldn’t resist sending it back with a grin.
Buggy could have sworn he fell into the sea and died. Even if that had happened, his oxygen-deprived mind couldn’t have concocted a story like this.
Before he could say another word, something caught his attention. Buggy twirled you around and tilted your head up towards a shooting star. Your shout of joy seemed to encourage more stars to begin their journeys and soon the sky was full of dazzling light - a beautiful show for two.
Finally found some time to draw smth and of course it had to be my silly bby
I also got the news that comicon is in april so i have to work on my cosplay asap
Its between Buggy and Mayuri ( my other silly man from Bleach)
Buggy: you dropped something
Y/n: what...?
Buggy: your standards. Hi, im Buggy
Y/n: ...
I love @hey-august's writing 🩷🩵
A Favor for the Captain - Chapter 1 | NSFW (Buggy x afab!reader)
Description: You expected to spend night duty alone, but your captain decides to keep you company. Together you enjoy some light hearted conversation and silly jokes, before Buggy asks for an unexpected, but not unwelcome, favor. Word count: Just under 2.5k A/N: This is probably just going to be 2 chapters. I have the next chapter outlined, so hopefully it'll be ready to post soon. Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, buggy x afab!reader, no use of Y/N, dry humping, bad jokes, pathetic and embarrassed buggy because he's bad at communicating. All parties are consenting adults.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
“Make good choices!” you called out to your crewmates as they streamed off the ship and into the night. It had been ages since any of you had free time and most of the crew chose to spend it in town, savoring goods and experiences that were sparse out at sea. Fresh food, endless alcohol, and sex with people you didn’t work with.
You, on the other hand, were stuck on the ship. Your freedom was clipped short when you were put on night guard duty. Someone had to mind the ship at night and it fell to the new recruit who didn’t know they should lie about already having plans. Secretly, you didn’t mind. There was supposed to be a meteor shower soon and this gave you an excuse to look for the shooting stars.
The dark and quiet night draped over the ship, a heavy blanket that muffled the soft crashes of sea. A soft breeze danced through the palm trees on the shore, moving them in time with the echoes of music and laughter that drifted from town. You were laid out on the deck, positioned to search the sky. Each pinprick of light was still in place, almost mocking you for remaining on the ship and not exploring elsewhere. As if you had a choice.
Lost in thought and drifting among the constellations, you missed the sound of footsteps approaching your solo viewing party. They moved in time with the sound of waves, a natural ability from someone bound to the sea. Eventually you realized that the feeling of being watched wasn’t pouring from the watchful moon and stars, but from a presence nearby.
Your captain broke into a grin at the sight of your panicked double-take. The first look expressed confusion and the second carried fear. Neither were emotions that were foreign to him, the pirate clown has seen both directed at him many times before. But watching your head whip around to confirm it was the captain and the way your eyes widened was downright comical.
Before you could scramble to your feet, Buggy crouched next to you. You sat up and surveyed his face, trying to assess how absolutely fucked you were. Honestly, it was hard to read anything past the fake smile painted on his face, but he looked more bemused than pissed. This could work in your favor.
“So…guard duty?” Buggy broke the silence first.
You cringed, unsure how to answer. How could you convince the captain you were on duty when you didn’t even hear him walk over? The guy wears heavy boots. On the plus side, he wasn’t wearing his coat full of knives, bombs, and other superfluous noise makers. Even still, that wasn’t enough of an excuse.
“What were you even looking at?” he questioned, each word emphasized by his mischievous smile.
“The stars,” you answered, glancing back up at the silent audience. At the edge of your vision, you saw Buggy also turn towards the sky. “There are supposed to be shooting stars, but I haven’t seen any.”
“Ever?” He turned his attention back to you. The question caught you off-guard and you shook your head.
“Damn, if I had the right prop I could make your night.” Buggy could see the gears turning in your head, producing a complete lack of understanding. He sighed disappointedly and mimed shooting at the sky before gesturing at himself. “Shooting…star…” It was so obvious.
You groaned and covered your face, not sure if your laughter was because it was actually a good joke, or because Buggy delivered the gag like it was. Satisfied with your response, Buggy joined you in sitting on the wooden floor and looked back at the sky.
Massaging the rest of the laughter out of your cheeks, you turned towards your captain. “Have you ever seen one? A real shooting star?”
“Countless times. They’re really a sight to see…the stars know how to put on a show.”
In the corner of his eye, Buggy saw you nod as he spoke, noting how you gazed at him a moment longer than usual. Normally the attention would make Buggy feel self-conscious, but the air between you two felt comfortable. It always did. Not that you two interacted much, but he picked up on your calm composure, even when he was wreaking havoc on the crew. Even now, as you eased yourself back into lying on the floor, you exuded a sense of peace. Moving naturally, as if you were hanging out with a close friend and not your boss. Maybe this was all conjured by the loneliness in his head. Still, Buggy indulged in the atmosphere. He joined you in spreading out on the floor for a better view of the sky and there you both lay, under boundless celestial nightlights.
“Do you know the names of the constellations?” you questioned, putting a pause to the relaxed silence you were sharing.
Buggy nodded and started rattling off celestial names while a disembodied gloved hand floated overhead, pointing out each group of stars. After the first few, he started adding in a few made up constellations.
“Big Richie, it’s a magnificent, fearsome, circus lion.” “The Big Top Tent! See how it encompasses everything?” “Oh, this is my favorite, the Genius Jester Hat! It-”
The last one was cut off when your chuckles exploded into full-fledged laughter, satisfying the clown. “Alright, alright, I get it,” you choked out and elbowed his arm.
Buggy summoned his hand back, suddenly, hyper aware of how close you two were. Shoulders touching slightly after your giggle-fest. Hands a breadth apart. Fingers so close they could touch if he simply reached out. Heat grew in the places close to you, as if you were setting him on fire.
You weren't aware, but you were doing it again. Consuming his mind, his attention. The way you always watched him - observed, really - interested Buggy. Occupying areas of his mind until there were days where he could only think of you. Think of ways to get your eyes on him. Your attention focused on him. Your laugh creating music for his ears. Your smile. Your lips.
There were also nights where the thoughts of you flooded his mind. At first he’d ignore them, believing it was a passing fancy. But they wouldn’t leave him alone. Every glimpse of you kept the tantalizing visions buoyant. Any shred of attention you gave him added to the relentless waves in his head, until he succumbed. He’d let the swell of endless thoughts and images consume his body until he was left shuddering and gasping your name in the dark. And now, that familiar tempest was brewing inside the pirate.
Buggy pulled his knees up, hoping the position would hide the bulge growing in his pants. Sure, he could leave, but he felt greedy. He wanted more. He wanted to stay close to you. To listen to your breathing. Feel the heat of your body…
“Captain?” Your voice snapped him back into the moment. He hummed an acknowledgement.
“I hope this isn’t too forward, but I’ve been wondering why you always wear gloves.” You nudged your hand against his, skin against fabric.
“Why? It’s part of my schtick. My role as a performing artist,” Buggy boasted.
“Mmm, part of your costume?”
“Exactly.” Buggy was pleased that you understood, but your next question tested that warm feeling.
“Are you performing now? Is this a bit?”
Buggy stayed silent. He held up his gloved hands, thinking about how to answer. To be honest, he wasn’t sure himself. It didn’t feel like a bit or a performance. There was something genuine here.
You watched as Buggy pulled off his gloves and set them down. So that was his answer. Seeing his bare hands felt surprisingly intimate. His nails were painted. Thankfully the dark night hid the blush overtaking your face. You copied Buggy and held out your hands. The two of you mimicking each other, palms raised to the sky as if waiting to collect the stars themselves.
Buggy reached over to grab one of your hands, remarking at how small it is compared to his. Other than the tell-tale calluses that all pirates have, his skin was soft. You liked how his grasp enveloped your hand. It was gentle. Cautious. Buggy liked how your hand felt in his. Warm and accepting.
Something was caught in the pirate’s throat. Words he knew he shouldn’t say, but would cause him to explode if he kept them contained. Buggy swallowed the nerves that threatened to shake his voice.
“I need you to do me a favor.”
“Yes, Captain?”
Fuck. Even though Buggy has heard those words from you many times before, this time it sounded different. Better.
“Get on top of me.”
You turned your head to see if you heard him right. Before you could ask and confirm, his detached hands were tugging and nudging you to move. Your body felt clumsy. It was in disbelief, trying to catch up to the thoughts running through your mind and the demanding hands maneuvering it into place. Nervous and confused, you straddled Buggy - trying very hard not to sit on him - and looked down. This was something you imagined before, but it was not how you expected it to go. Although Buggy avoided looking at you, choosing to scowl at a random area on the deck instead, the hands holding your hips told you that this is what he asked for
“Cap-”
“Don’t say anything. J-just…just do me this favor.”
He saw you nod in the corner of his eye. He finally relaxed his legs, laying them back down. The hold on your hips tightened and Buggy pressed you down, wanting you to truly be on top of him. You weren’t prepared for the hard object beneath you or for it to press back when you made contact. You jumped in surprise but Buggy kept you in place. Finally, he looked at you. His eyebrows were pulled into a frown and his jaw was tight. As expressive as the pirate clown was normally, this was one expression you couldn’t decipher. There was the usual frustration, but also embarrassment - or was it fear? - and want.
You let his hands ease you back down on to the erection trapped in his pants, sighing as it sat snuggly against you. Buggy’s hands kneaded your hips as he hissed at the feeling. While his grasp was gentle when he held your hand, the way he squeezed your body was not the same. He clung to you as if you were the last match in a dark room. Something he desperately needed. Something that would grant all his wishes.
Buggy’s cock felt so hard that it was almost painful just sitting on it. When his hands began to pressure your hips back and forth, you welcomed the movement and rocked in time with his hold. Whenever he throbbed against your body, you returned the gesture by pressing into him more. You knew Buggy enjoyed that sensation by how he groaned and moved underneath you in ecstasy. It was mesmerizing and you wanted more. Leaning forwards, you placed your hands on Buggy’s chest and angled your hips so that you could grind yourself against his entire length.
The unexpected pressure eased a low moan from the pirate. His eyes had been fluttering but now they opened wide to watch you. Fucking beautiful. That’s all Buggy could think at the moment. Your head was tilted back in bliss while little moans and whimpers slipped from your mouth. The way you worked your body on his, driving your hips against his cock, was far better than any meteor shower. Buggy felt himself get closer to the edge thinking about how your cunt was so close. Only a few measley layers of fabric kept him from ramming himself into your wet heat and fucking you until you saw stars.
You noticed that his cock was becoming needier by the moment, throbbing and twitching below you. Rolling your hips, you rubbed your clit against his hardness. The sensation rocked through your body, a terrible side effect of the delicious feeling which left you weak. Eager to chase the climax that was close, you wanted to ask your captain for help. Before you could get a full word out, your head was pulled backwards. A disembodied hand was entangled in your hair, drawing you into an arch. The change in position left your mouth open, but the tension prevented you from saying anything more. Unable to keep pressure on your clit, you felt the climax ebb away.
“S-shhhh, n-not a word,” Buggy groaned.
He knew he took advantage of his position as your captain and couldn’t bear to think about what you might say while he was exerting that power. It was cowardly and pathetic, but he was too far gone.
Although Buggy still had one hand on your hip, he started bucking against you. His movements were forceful and sloppy. When Buggy gasped and his hips stuttered, you knew that he reached his end. You squeezed your eyes shut and tried to imagine the lewd face he must be making. What his cock looked like releasing each stream of jizz. How it would feel in your cunt. Or in your mouth. What his cum tastes like.
Once Buggy stilled underneath you, he finally loosened his grip on your hair. Breathlessly, you looked at the flushed, panting, pirate before you. As the heat from Buggy’s climax dissipated and the load in his pants began to cool and clump together, he felt ashamed and sick of himself. He could barely look you in the eyes again. Giving into his cowardice, Buggy tried to ease you off of him before resorting to his devil fruit ability when he couldn’t quickly detangle your bodies.
“Wai-”
“Thanks.” Buggy spoke over you, still afraid to hear what you might say. What you might regret. He awkwardly picked his gloves off the floor before leaving, opting to have his feet walk away while the rest of his body floated. He already felt like shit and feeling the cold globs of sadness in his pants rub against him wouldn’t help.
And that’s where you finished the rest of your guard duty that night. It gave you plenty of time to think about what happened and analyze. And overthink. And overanalyze. That was an awful way to leave someone after using them like some sort of fuck toy. But…there was a part of you that liked it. He clearly wanted you. Or part of you. And you found that exciting.
Based on how Buggy practically fled the scene, you weren’t sure how things would be tomorrow. Still you couldn't help but think about what could have happened if you spoke up. What you wish happened instead.
Yes
i wanna sit on his dick in that chair real bad
edit : 09/04 a fic has been posted
Reblog if you understand and have felt the pain of your glasses never being clean no matter how many times you wipe them
Late night dose of existential crissis and smut
Bitches be like ‘I’m so tired and sleepy’ and then stay up doing hyperfixtation shit for the next 5 hours
I made a little zine!
You can download and print it yourself here
What's it called when you have this almost primal urge to just sink your teeth deep into something or preferably some(one) and never let go
You’re A Part Of My Heart
2k words of me attempting fluff n smut so hope u like it!! @gayafsatan a tag as requested hehehe
It was a slow night, the kind where only the regulars in town filled the booths and tables. Pirate crews came and went, so when a colorful band of rowdy sailors filled the room with chatter, you paid no mind. You saw his flashy outfit first; bright orange hat with long blue hair brushing the shoulders of anyone close enough to the captain, long coat with dirty white fur, sparkly blue clown makeup.
There was no mistaking Captain Buggy with anyone else. You usually didn’t get pirates with a high bounty here, making you a little nervous. You didn’t show it, barely looking his direction until he approached you.
”Rum, top shelf.”
”You gonna chase that down with anything, man?”
He smiles, even with yellow teeth and all that greasepaint he was handsome. You didn’t make it a habit to sleep with every sailor passing through, they’d never leave you alone if you did, but you entertained the idea in your head this time.
”Maybe a drinking partner will make it go down smoother.”
Corny, fits the costume. You smile, watching him watch you set down two shot glasses.
“Fair winds, and following seas,” you say as you both knocked back a shot.
“Oh, you’re far too young to be some washed up sailor setting up in a bar.”
”Do only sailors know that one?” you shrug, leaving him to drink alone.
Your eyes always followed back to his, like he willed it. His always meeting yours. Glancing at the other customers, you decide to drink with Buggy again. At this point, his hat was off and so was his coat. Lingering on his form, the way his muscles flexed with his moments, you set course on your target tonight.
”I was.”
He furrowed his brows a moment, “what happened?”
”Too much death, who would’ve thought piracy wasn’t just drinking in the sun all day?”
He raises his glass to yours, clinking them together. His eyes were hard to read, no doubt thinking of his own loss, whoever it was.
“I was a captain too, not much different than running a bar actually.”
He laughs, another shot. He leaned forward this time, fingers brushing up against your hand.
“The bar and the ship share the same name?”
You wonder if being honest would be a turn off, “ah, no. It’s named after someone I knew. Sailing wasn’t the same, you know?”
Buggy stares at you for a beat, his gaze suddenly uncomfortable. You falter, turning to leave.
His hand grabs yours, “what’s your favorite drink?”
”I like sweet stuff.”
”Me too.”
You relax, seeing the man behind the pirate. You end up drinking with him most of the night, the patrons slowly trickling out of the bar and out of your mind. It’s only him you see, an island in the middle of the ocean. You talk about nothing important, what he saw on his travels, islands you been to.
”See that you got my wanted poster up there,” he points to his own smiling face.
”Keeps the marines outta my hair. You know,” you smile at how clever you are, “it’s a shot for every million. Tradition.”
He rests his cheek on your palm, “is that so?”
Your fingers tingle up your arm into your spine, “let me close up first. I got the good shit upstairs.”
Buggy doesn’t let you go far, trailing behind as your turn off the lights and lock the door. You feel a hand at your waist as you lead him up to your bed. You waste no time with him, capturing his lips with yours.
He tastes like rum, lipstick, and salt. His gloves feel cool against your warm skin, fingers running over every exposed inch. He’s rough with you, desperate to get you closer and closer. Teeth grazes your skin, nails dig in.
”Buggy,” you whisper, “fuck me baby.”
He moans, shoving you on to the mattress. You never seen someone take off clothes so quickly before, his eagerness makes you laugh.
”What’s so funny,” he grumbles before kissing you.
”Oh you know,” you say between kisses.
He stops abruptly, “what did you fucking say?”
”What? I’m saying nothing.”
”My nose, you’re making fun of me.”
He looks angry, ready to rip your throat out. You attempt to reach out to him, he slaps your hand away.
“Buggy, what’s wrong?”
”Oh it’s so funny huh? Get big nose all excited just to laugh at him. I’ll teach you-“
”-I wasn’t laughing at you, shithead.”
He scoffs, and you turn his chin to look at you. His face hides his hurt, except the eyes. You feel like you should kick him out, but something stops you. Buggy looks at you like he’s expecting it.
”Kiss me, Buggy.”
He does, cautiously this time. You move away to wiggle out of your clothes, Buggy helping along the way. His hands detach to your horror, pulling your shirt off your arms.
“Holy shit.”
He only winks, those same hands crawling around your body. It’s all happening too fast to comprehend. You can only think of what else he can do with those hands.
”Chop Chop Fruit.”
You laugh again, giving his cock a few pumps. He swallows, almost like he can’t believe this is happening with you. Kisses litter your chest before he bites down on a nipple, Buggy getting more aggressive with every little noise you make. Red lipstick marks your body with every bite, you tug his hair causing his eyes to roll back.
His tongue reaches your cunt, sliding between your folds easily. He eats you out like a starving man, nose pressing your clit. The pressure feels wonderful, holding onto his head for dear life.
“Buggy,” you beg.
“That’s it, baby. That’s it,” he murmurs into your thighs.
It’s all too much, you shove him off you with a smile on your face. Buggy wipes his mouth before kissing you, you knew you were going to have a hell of a time cleaning all this paint up later but right now you didn’t care.
“You want this cock? Yeah? You want me to fuck you?”
You nod as he spreads your legs apart, lining himself up. He was not gentle with you, and you loved it. Buggy thrusted hard and fast, babbling in your ear. He seemed to like it when you pulled his hair, or bit an earlobe. You were turning into putty in his hands, and him in yours.
Throwing your leg over his shoulder, he hit deeper and deeper. You felt like you were about to burst, Buggy close behind you.
He collapsed onto you, struggling to breathe. You kissed his head as you stroked his hair, eventually he stilled long enough you figured he was asleep. You decided you didn’t mind at all, wanting to stay with him as long as possible.
“This was nice,” he said suddenly.
You gave him a squeeze, “that mean you’re leaving then?”
He lifted his head, eyes intense, “are you asking me to leave?”
What was the harm?
“No, you can stay if you wanna.”
”Do you want me to?”
This shot at your heart, he was a sad little clown wasn’t he?
“I do. Wanna shower with me? We’re red and blue all over.”
He smiles so brightly you’re stupid enough to think too long on it. He’s handsy as expected, his skin burning hot as you kiss his body. You wash the rest of his makeup off, leaning into each other’s touch. He’s dreamy, maybe too dreamy.
”Squeaky clean, butter bean.”
He laughs, “you’re too cute.”
“I don’t have anything for you to sleep in, sorry.”
”Neither do you then,” he winks.
As you towel off, Buggy finger combs your damp hair. He can’t stop kissing you, touching you.
”You’re so beautiful, are you a siren?”
You laugh, and he smiles.
“See? Like a lullaby.”
“You say that to all the girls you bed?”
He shakes his head, “only girls like you, think you’re the first.”
Buggy fluffs up your pillows, turning off all the lights.
Settling into bed he says, “I’m sure you get plenty of handsome sailors saying that.”
”Nope. Just you.”
He throws an arm around you, spooning you. He’s soft, warm, maybe exactly what you needed right now. It had been so long since you let anyone stay in your bed, and he’s pleasant enough company.
Maybe it’s the way he finds a way to get closer even in his sleep, or way he looks in the moonlight, but you feel your chest caving in. You don’t want this man to leave, and you know he will. You shed a few silent tears, feeling sorry for yourself.
In the morning, he’s still there. You stir slightly, and he sleepily kisses your cheek.
“Hey.”
”Hey, baby.”
You search his face, looking for a sign that he feels the same about you. He shies away, burying his face into your neck. You struggle for words to say, scolding yourself for being mushy for a clown.
”So, when do you cast off?”
He groans, “shit. Sooner than later, was gonna leave today.”
“Oh that’s a shame,” you admit.
He looks surprised, “oh yeah? Where you uh, hoping for another around?”
You shrug, “something like that.”
It was a one night stand, no reason to admit feelings. Besides, if he was the kind of guy to tattoo crossbones on his face, a pirate's life was truly for him. He was never gonna make his way back here again.
“I’m gonna make some coffee, don’t get up.”
He smiles, like a boy with his first crush, you figure you’re imagining it. You feel your heart threatening to crawl out your mouth, you needed to get away from him.
It had been years since you opened your heart to anyone, would a man like Buggy want something like that?
He looks so good sitting in bed like that, naked and rugged.
“How you like your coffee?”
”Sugar and cream, with a hint of coffee.”
He looks so happy to see you laugh, that he could make you laugh doing or saying anything.
You sip your coffee quietly in bed together, Buggy looking nervous the whole time. You figure he’s trying to find an excuse to leave, you’re ready to give him one. But then to your surprise, he holds your hand. Your cheeks burn, and you cuddle up closer.
”You know,” he says, “I don’t gotta leave right away. How long has it been since you been on a ship?”
”Too long.”
”Well, guess it’s time for a grand tour.”
He was a gentleman, his features softer in the daylight. As you walk across the pier, you reach for his hand to test the waters. A blush creeps up his neck, but he doesn’t let go.
The Big Top was larger than life, befitting a pirate captain like him. He leads you to an area where he kept his circus tent, it wasn’t set up, the lights and crates strewn about.
“Watch.”
He hit a switch, the lights strung above lit up like stars. Buggy watched you gaze up with delight, you catch his eye, would it be crazy to fall for him now?
You suppose you always did that, you met your first love at a port town, just like this one. They offered you a spot on his crew, before discovering they weren’t even a captain. You served together until you had money for a ship, you were made captain. Anything you wanted, you dove in head first.
”I would love to see a show.”
He loves to hear it, “you get VIP access. Free.”
”Oh yeah? What’s included.”
He hugs your waist, “front row seats, free concessions, access to the star’s personal green room.”
Your lips brushes against his, “deal.”
He didn’t move, frozen against your body. Suddenly feeling anxious, you try to back up.
He holds you tight, “I’m serious.”
”Me too.”
He kisses you again, happy as hell. You feel it coming, nervously smiling at Buggy. He looks so proud, truly born for the sea. For the spotlight.
”You should join, I can offer a private show every night.”
“I can’t. I’m a little too old to run off with the circus.”
He face falls, “oh.”
“I’m not saying no, just not now.”
”Oh!”
He was too cute, “come back, Bug. I would love to see you as much as I could.”
“How about two months? Could…could you wait for me that long?”
You found your courage, “I’ll wait for you until the end of my days.”
Sun and Moon in the bendy and the ink machine artstyle.
I had a lot of fun with the ink splatters on Moon.
Random doodles of sun and y/n :D
Moony redesign. Nothing much changed, just some puffy sleeves added, but i like his sassy look.