#no but i really truly adore dom!buggy so much

[hey-august]

Oki so like as much as I love sub!buggy, dom!buggy is like… an extra special fancy meal you have like twice a year.

Something about him getting angry and his ego overtaking his self consciousness

Buggy being on a high from a great performance

Buggy being too worked up to listen to anything but his head (lol)

Buggy using being in control as like, another layer of performance (omg don’t get me started on this, his parter tied up and forced to focus only on him?? I’m-)

I am weak for dom!buggy. WEAK. Folding immediately.

The idea of him losing self-control? Succumbing to carnal instinct? Delicious. One of my favorite meals. I could wax lyrical about this forever and ever and ever and ever and ever and-

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, dom!buggy x GN!reader, 2 lil drabbles, profanity, angry buggy, jealous buggy, insertion sex, manual stimulation (is there another gn term for this??), maybe sorta dubcon but all parties are consenting adults WC: ~600

I’m hooked on an angry Buggy…

Buggy who is absolutely seething about an unsuccessful treasure raid. Weeks of preparation, all for nothing. The map was old and the treasure was long gone. The venture was a failure, which meant the captain was a fucking failure.

His emotions are bubbling over. Thoughts running in circles. And then there’s you. A poorly timed but well-intentioned question about whether there’s anything you can do to help him calm down resulted in you against the wall while Buggy fumbles with his belt. Your face pressed into the wood, mouth hanging open, while he thrusts into you at a shattering pace.

“Calm down, huh? How’s this for calm?” he snarls in your ear. “Telling your fucking captain he should calm the fuck down…”

You can’t answer. Your mind is fuzzy, your legs are trembling, that deep coil keeps tightening and snapping under his relentless hammering. You’re an absolute mess - drooling and dripping, whining and whimpering, eyes rolling back, moans growing coarse in your throat.

Then he stops, still sheathed fully inside you. Buggy presses his weight against your body, burrowing himself deeper and deeper. You’re stretched so full, conforming to his presence. It aches so wonderfully.

He’s huffing. His heavy breaths fill your ears and your empty head. But he’s not done. Buggy has a lot of anger to let out before he can “calm down,” and you’re gonna help.

---

Okay okay okay, what about when Buggy's jealous... 

When you laugh a little too hard at someone else’s jokes. When you accept drinks because they’re free. When you’re polite to some shit-stain nobody, giving them the attention that should be on Buggy. It’s irritating. 

Buggy makes sure you know how disrespectful that was by making sure you devote all of your attention to him later that night. Binding you in a chair, arms behind your body and legs spread open, and all you can focus on is him.

His hand between your legs while he stands in front of you. He’s so fucking tall too, so you have to look up. You have to maintain eye contact, otherwise he won’t let you come. Feeling the tremors in your body as you get close, you can’t stop your eyes from fluttering, which stops all movement.

The feeling between your legs is gone. Instead, Buggy’s hand is on your chin. He’s rough, squishing your cheeks, and digging his fingers into your plump skin.

“So you don’t want to come? Maybe I should stop and leave you like this.”

You can’t shake your head against the tight hold. You can’t roll your hips to chase the friction he took away. You can’t move your hands to touch yourself. All you can do is look Buggy in the eyes and give him a pitiful sounding answer.

He lets go of your face. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want to come, please...”

The words come out in a needy whine, but that answer isn’t satisfactory. Buggy crouches in front of you and puts a hand on your knee.

“Ah-ah, tell me exactly what you want.”

“I-I want you to touch me. I want you to m-make me come. Wanna feel you, want you, wanna come on you, want-” Your babbling is cut off by a climax Buggy coaxes with a few well-timed and well-placed touches. “Thank you, thank you, thank you…” The words repeat in between heaving breaths. You feel so limp. So exhausted.

A hand on your chin brings your gaze back towards his. “Eyes on me. I’m not done, yet. Let’s see if you can still talk when I’m through with you.”