#she/he buggy my beloved

[awtysm-cryptid]

Buggy is Wife Material simply because she's too girl fail to be husband

AND HES MY WIFE

[mothlover69]

I do have a history of dating clowns so i shouldnt have been surprised about this one

[bananafire11]

OH MY GODDDUHYY BUNNY YOU JUDT WHIPPED THIS UP LIKE IT WAS NOTHING WATTT.

Pondering how to combine jax and bugs. No particular reason i just like both of those things

[gennemi]

𝑵𝒆𝒘 𝒀𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒔 𝑲𝒊𝒔𝒔 (𝑶𝒏𝒆 𝑷𝒊𝒆𝒄𝒆 𝑴𝒆𝒏 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔)

A/N: Happy New Year's to all my lovely followers! I hope you all had a safe and lovely New Year's, I love you all! ✨🖤 and thank you to my friend for helping me make this happen! 🖤✨

Includes: Dracule Mihawk, Monkey D. Luffy, Roronoa Zoro, Sanji Vinsmoke, Buggy the Clown, Red-Haired Shanks, Trafalgar D. Water Law, and Portgas D. Ace

Warnings: Pure Fluff, mentions of Alcohol, kissing, just pure fluff, non binary reader.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

𝑫𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒖𝒍𝒆 𝑴𝒊𝒉𝒂𝒘𝒌:

Mihawk and his lover are just spending New Year's just the both of them, sipping on his favorite vintage wine, having light conversation, and cooking New Years dinner together, and even making little snacks, to snack on. The two of them were making small conversation about how this year went. 

Spending time together is all the two wanted to start the new year, no one else but them. It was basically an hour before midnight. So right now the two were currently dancing around the large living room of their castle that they called home. The two lovers didn’t need music to dance. 

He looked at the clock, it read a minute before midnight. He pulled her close to him, looking into her eyes with his hawk-like eyes. As he continued to hold them close to him, spinning them around softly, he looked back at the clock, and saw it had hit midnight.

“Happy New Year Darling, here's to another amazing year with you.”

He spoke softly, as he pulled them in to give them a New Years Kiss.

𝑴𝒐𝒏𝒌𝒆𝒚 𝑫. 𝑳𝒖𝒇𝒇𝒚:

“Happy New Year Y/N!” the straw hat captain grinned. The straw hats, with the help of Franky and Nami keeping up with time, had planned a big feast to celebrate the beginning of a New Year. Smiling warmly at their  captain trying to steal food while Usopp and Nami valiantly defending the food. Zoro was already sipping on his booze, Robin was relaxing while using her devil fruit ability to help bring food to the table. 

After the big feast, it was about a few minutes before midnight, the two went to another part of the Thousand Sunny, to spend alone time together. They had a small conversation together. Her giggling at Luffy being his usual silly self, he loved hearing them laugh. And seeing their smile.

Soon the fireworks went off, the fireworks being Nami’s idea, so they had bought the fireworks to shoot off “HAPPY NEW YEAR!” They heard their fellow crewmates shout. He poked them on the shoulder, she looked at him.

“Happy New Year!” 

He cheered out, happily as he pulled them close, giving them a New Years Kiss.

𝑹𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒐𝒂 𝒁𝒐𝒓𝒐:

For New Years he wanted to spend time with them just the two of them. Up in the crows nest of the Thousand Sunny with a bottle of sake. And a plate of food for them to eat, while their crew members partied down below, he was planning something a little special, as soon as the fireworks went off (Which were Nami’s idea)

The two were sharing a bottle of sake, while talking. All cuddled up together in the crows nest. The two were cracking jokes about the things that had happened during this year, and hoping to make fond memories for every year to come. They don’t even know the time currently. Too busy wrapped up in each other's embrace.

The fireworks then suddenly went off with their fellow crewmates yelling “HAPPY NEW YEAR!” from below them, he looked over at her softly grabbing their face, to have them look at him.

“Happy New Year babe, here’s to the new year. And plenty more to go.”

He spoke, as his lips pressed against hers. Giving them a New Years Kiss.

𝑺𝒂𝒏𝒋𝒊 𝑽𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒎𝒐𝒌𝒆:

The straw hat crew was hosting a New Year party/feast on the Thousand Sunny. Sanji and his beloved were drinking some wine together, while eating the food that Sanji prepared with their help. The couple were happy to go into the new year together. As the crew laughed, and conversated about how this year went. All the memories they made.

Sanji and his beloved were conversing about the good, bad, and funny memories they made together. As they snuggled up together, waiting on Franky and Nami to shoot off the fireworks. To go into the new year.

Soon the fireworks went off, he looked over at them pulling them close to him, putting a hand softly on their cheek. 

“Happy New Year my beloved, here's to many more with you~”

He spoke, as he leaned in and softly gave them a New Years Kiss.

𝑩𝒖𝒈𝒈𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑪𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒏:

There was a party being hosted by Buggy himself on The Big Top. It was a New Years party to celebrate going into the new year, with plenty of sake and food to go around, it was a whole feast. In their own corner was Buggy and Y/N spending time with each other, eating food and drinking sake together. 

They had planned to shoot off fireworks, as soon as it was midnight. And Buggy also had something planned to go into the new year with his lover. He felt happy to celebrate new years with them, he couldn’t wait until it hit midnight.

Soon the sound of fireworks in the sky surrounded the area, they looked up at the fireworks in awe as the crew yelled out “HAPPY NEW YEAR!” as they cheered and hollered, Buggy pulled them close to him, causing them to look at him.

“Happy New Year Doll~”

He cooed softly, as he pulled them in for a New Years Kiss.

𝑹𝒆𝒅-𝑯𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝑺𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌𝒔:

The crew was of course celebrating New Year with a party, with of course alcohol being involved. Shanks had his love sitting on his lap, him being the clingy partner that he is. Wanted them close to him, as the two drank on the rum. And ate on the food that was served.

They had managed to buy fireworks for this occasion, as his love wanted fireworks. And him being the amazing lover that he is. Made sure that happened. The one keeping up with the time was Lucky Roux, he let everyone know it was almost time for it.

The time went by fast as the fireworks now went off, shooting up into the sky with different, beautiful but vibrant colors, he pulled them close to him, to get their attention. They looked at him.

“Happy New Year Love, to many more with you.”

He pulled them into a New Years Kiss.

𝑻𝒓𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒍𝒈𝒂𝒓 𝑫. 𝑾𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑳𝒂𝒘:

The Heart Pirates were celebrating new years on the Polar Tang, with food and snacks, and drinks to choose from, it was just a small celebration amongst the crew. Law and his lover were hanging out on the deck, just them wanting to spend alone time together. He had a watch on his wrist so he could tell when it's midnight.

He wanted to do something special for them as soon as midnight hit, he was listened to them rant about the memories good, bad,and silly that they made this year, and hoping to make the same memories with him during the new year.

He looked at his watch, noticing it was now midnight. He looked over at them, touching their face gently, causing them to look at him, he leaned in close to them.

“Happy New Year Doll.”

He whispered softly, bringing them into a New Years Kiss.

𝑷𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒈𝒂𝒔 𝑫. 𝑨𝒄𝒆:

The two were strolling down the busy street hand in hand, they wanted to come to the New Years Festival with him, and how could he say no to his lover. The two were sharing a candied apple. Looking at all the stalls open, the smells of different foods wafting in the air.

When it was almost time for the fireworks to go off, the two went to the outskirts of the town, and sat down on a small hill, where they are still able to see the fireworks go off. They were joking around, and talking to pass the time.

Soon the fireworks went off as they heard cheers from the festival below, the two looked at each other, this was his chance, he put one of his hands softly on their cheek rubbing it softly.

“Happy New Year My Flame!”

He cheerfully said, as he gave them a kiss, a New Years Kiss.

[tallulah477]

Pretty, But Not Stupid

Extra of Hunting the Tawtute

Kinkmas Day 10: Breath Play

Pairing: Lo’ak x Fem!Human!Reader

Word Count: 3.8K

Warnings: AgedUp!Lo’ak, Dark!Lo’ak, ***NON-CON***, Dub-Con, Breath Play, Choking, Size Difference, Alien Genitalia, Oral (male receiving), P in V, Belly Bulge, Creampie, Scenting, Mention of knots (but no knotting yet), Slight threesome (and Dark!Neteyam), Mentions of death/dead bodies, Reader is not having a good time (although idk...i think she’s having a great time), Mentions of war

A/N: Guess who’s back, besties!! Been MIA, slacking on prompts, and about to lose my fucking mind with all my family around, but I somehow got this done and I’m about to read as many fics as I can before someone else demands my attention.

A/N 2: This was not intended to be a full Part 2 yet, but it's way too long to be called a drabble. So I’m calling it an extra for now until I decide what to call it lmao. Hope y’all like it 🧡

A/N 3: DEDICATED TO @oakbuggy AND THEIR AMAZING ARTWORK (Everyone stop reading and go look at their art rn, all of them are god-tier but the one for Hunting the Tawtute definitely holds a special place in my heart. Thank you again, Buggy! You're amazing!)

Summary: With their father’s impending retirement as Olo’eyktan, Neteyam has more responsibilities to the clan and less time to see his favorite human. Thankfully, Lo’ak is there to pick up the slack.

**PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS - DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ**

Translations:

Vrrtep - Demon

Tawtute - Human

Sevin - Pretty

Palulukan - Apex predator resembling a lion or panther

(Mountain) Banshee/Ikran - Large, dragon-like aerial predators

Mawey - Calm

Narlor - Beautiful

Tam tam - Calm, be content, there there

Srane - Yes

Yawne - Beloved

Paskalin - Sweet berry (term of endearment)

Their father is stepping down as clan leader - at least that’s what Lo’ak tells you when he comes to visit you in the isolated hut the brothers have set up for you on the side of a cliff face. It was for your own protection, they told you. You couldn’t stay in the village yet, their father would never allow it, and you clearly couldn’t be trusted not to run away if they built you something on the forest floor. 

“Tawtutes with their tiny brains are stupid,” Neteyam had sneered as he hauled your combined weight up the cliff side. Your arms locked around his neck tightly, legs wrapped around his lithe torso as your eyes squeezed shut, determined not to look at the insane height you were being pulled to. “You might think to run away and then become the next meal of a hungry Palulukan.”

“Nah, bro,” Lo’ak said, the grin on his face audible in his teasing words as he climbed up the cliff behind you, ready to catch you if you decided to end it all right there and try your hand at plummeting to your death, no doubt. “Our little vrrtep would never run from us. Right, sevin?”

The hut they built for you was as cozy as it could be. Assembled further into the cave and away from the treacherous cliff side, thick material wrapped around sturdy posts to keep out any harsh weather that the cave itself couldn’t keep out. They’d given you plenty of blankets, assuring you that even though your human nose can’t smell it, their scent is all over them.

“To keep you smelling like us, when we can’t be here to do it ourselves.”

But they’re always around, day after day they come for you. Lo’ak grinning a deceivingly sweet smile and Neteyam’s amber eyes burning holes into your face as they grab at you, pulling you towards them as they all but rip off the loincloth and chest covering they gave you, baring your marked up body to their hungry gazes. They spread you open, fucking you and fucking you until you’re a crying overstimulated mess, drooling and teary under your mask as they fill you up. 

They know exactly how to touch you, where to press, where to rub, where you’re most sensitive. They learned how to play with your body better than you could ever know how, dragging orgasm after orgasm out of your trembling, exhausted body until your left limp and they’ve decided they’ve had enough for the day. 

Your body still struggles to take their cocks (although they love to tell you that you were made for it - “made to be our little cocksleeve”). Your only saving grace is that they’re still not sure if they can knot you. They’ve gotten close to trying, instincts desperate to push that large ball of tissue at the base of their cocks inside your already stuffed to the brim pussy. You feel how they test the resistance, pushing juuuusttt a little deeper, the swollen knot stretching you even farther than you ever thought you could stretch before they back off. 

When they fill you full of their cum, it’s with their own hand squeezing tightly around the knot. 

Usually, it’s both of them. This time, you’re shocked to see only Lo’ak climbing over the edge of the cliff. 

“Neteyam sends his regrets,” Lo’ak says, kneeling down to wrap his arms around your body and press his face into your neck. His flat nose presses against your rapidly increasing pulse point and breathes in your scent. “He said to tell you that he’s sorry he won’t be able to visit you today, but that he’ll make sure to come see your pretty face and fill your tight pussy tomorrow.”

Your face flushes hot at his words, shivering when his nose slides up to nudge just behind your ear, but you stay silent. 

“But that’s good news for me,” He continues. “Because that means I get you all to myself for tonight.”

Neteyam isn’t coming to visit you today because their father is stepping down as clan leader, which means increased training, more hours at council meetings, and less time to sneak off with his captive human. 

“What does that mean?” You can’t help but ask. Lo’ak’s hands smooth down your sides, large palms dragging over your bare skin until they’re squeezing your ass. Your voice cracks at the feel, but you push on, your eyes doing their best to keep contact with his bright amber ones. “Your father stepping down? What does that . . .” 

What does that mean for me?

“Nothing you have to worry about right now,” He says.

Without warning, he stands, pulling you with him so your legs wrap around his torso as he supports you with a hand on your ass. A loud yip rips from his throat, echoing through the cave as he walks you both towards the cliff’s edge. The responding roaring shriek makes you cower against him as the large dragon-like animal lands on the platform behind you, wings flapping hard against the wind. 

“We’re going on an adventure,” Lo’ak says as he walks you closer to the banshee. You whimper, arms locking around his neck so tight you’d think you would be choking him if you could think straight. But you’re not, head whipped around staring wide eyed at the monstrous creature as it turns its head sideways to stare back at you. 

“Lo’ak, no,” You beg through gritted teeth, but he ignores you as he approaches the banshee, his hand settling lovingly on its snout. 

“Mawey,” he coos, carefully rubbing along the blue leathery skin on the banshee’s snout, but you’re not sure if he’s trying to calm the large animal or you. “Mawey, narlor,”

“Lo’ak, no,” You plead, still clinging to his upper body. Tears pool in your eyes and a panicked whimper escapes your lips when you feel the puffing breath of the mountain banshee on your back. “Please, please, no!”

But you’re ignored again, even when your body goes rigid at the feel of that rounded snout pressing against the curve of your spine, hot exhales practically burning your skin as the banshee sniffs at you. Fuck, fuck–you could die. Right now, you could die in a second, that snout pressing into your skin could disappear, replaced with dual rows of long curved teeth that would take only a second to open and bite down and rip you clean in half. 

You can hear the smile in Lo’ak’s voice from where your mask is digging into his collarbone, his soft murmurs of encouragement loud even through your terrified thoughts. “Srane, tam tam. Look at my two beautiful girls, getting along so well.”

He moves swiftly, not leaving room for any more pleading as he bonds with his banshee and climbs on, bringing your clinging body with him. The rush of air as the large animal takes flight makes you squeeze Lo’ak tighter, desperate for safety as you feel the wind bat at your back as the banshee cuts through the sky like a bullet from a gun. 

“Is this all it takes for you to cling to me, sevin?” Lo’ak teases as he rests a secure hand on your trembling figure, all five fingers spread so wide that they nearly span the entirety of your back. “A little ikran ride and I get you all cuddled up, nice and close?”

You ignore his dig, teeth clenching together as you fight to find your voice around the wind rushing around your ears. “W-where are we going?”

Lo’ak nudges his chin against the top of your head. “You’ll see,”

The flight feels like hours. Hours of watching miles and miles of trees and forest thousands of meters below from over Lo’ak’s shoulder. Logically, you know you’re exaggerating. It hasn’t been hours, and even though you’re still high enough to die as a splat on the ground if you were to fall, it's probably not as high as it feels. But heights have never been your friend, and frankly, neither has time management. 

It’s only when the banshee lowers to the ground and Lo’ak dismounts, depositing you on your own two unsteady feet, that you realize where he’s brought you on your ‘adventure’. 

Your mouth opens in horror at the remains of your old home. The RDA outpost, a once tall and strong fortress that housed the lives of hundreds of humans, now practically nothing more than a heap of rubble. The walls once meant to provide safety to those within them have crumbled down, victims of their own explosives used against them by the enemy. Debris lines the paved ground, thick boulders and metal platings that were once walls, bullet shells glinting in the sunlight. There’s a few AMP suits scattered around the battlefield - you can’t see inside them from your vantage point, and you’re terrified of what you might see if you get too close. 

“This way, tawtute,” Lo’ak says, reaching for your hand, but you yank it away before he can grab it. 

“No,” You say, but the firmness in your voice is overshadowed by the shakiness. “No, I’m not going in there.”

“Yes, you are,”

Another headshake. “No,”

Quick as lightning, his hand shoots out and grabs the bottom of your mask, gripping on the valve at the bottom as he bends down so his face is level with yours.

“Demon,” He growls, fangs on display for just a moment. A warning. “You are pretty, but not stupid. You do as I say.”

Fear claws at your throat and your hands immediately latch onto his wrist, silently begging for him to not pull your mask off. He never does, and neither does Neteyam. Not as a punishment at least. When they use your mouth, there’s always a warning - a “hold your breath, yawne,” before the air is cut off from your lungs and your mouth is full of alien cock. But the fear never leaves, the possibility is always there at the forefront of your mind, and you cling to his wrist like the lifeline it is. 

Lo’ak’s face softens at your expression, grip loosening from your mask as his hand slides to cup the back of your neck. “You know I would never hurt you. You need to trust me,”

Hesitantly, you shake your head again. You’re pushing your luck, you know it. But you’ve learned Lo’ak is the more lenient of the brothers and will tolerate more ‘disobedience’ than Neteyam will. “I can’t,”

“Yes, you can. Nothing in there will hurt you. If anyone is left in there, they’re dead,”

And that’s the problem. The terror of facing the place where life as you knew it was ended in a heartbeat. If there’s still people in there, people you once knew, people you talked to, some people who were good, lying on the ground . . . lifeless . . .

In the end, it’s not a choice. Lo’ak sighs, pulling you back in his arms and cradling you to his chest like a toddler. You sniffle, eyes sliding shut, determined to not watch as he walks you towards the remains of the outpost. 

It’s hard to admit, but being carried by the brothers can be really soothing if you let it. They move swiftly, with grace and confidence in every step, careful not to jostle you despite the usually uneven terrain of the forest. It’s even smoother now as Lo’ak walks across the flat pavement of the base. If you close your eyes, it can almost feel like you’re floating.

There’s a loud chu-chunk sound followed by the rapid hiss of air and the loss of sunlight behind your closed lids. You open your eyes to see that Lo’ak has found a still intact entrance, the airlock working to adjust the oxygen levels to whatever lies beyond the interior door. He smiles when the pressure stabilizes, opening the door and stepping into the inside of the base. This time, he doesn’t warn you when he pulls off your mask, the sound of escaping air hitting your ears, but you don’t choke. Instead you can breathe, deep complete breaths without the need for a mask covering your face. 

Lo’ak wastes no time nuzzling his face against yours, sliding his cheek across every new inch of face and neck that he can comfortably reach, a deep content rumble vibrating through his chest. 

Scenting you. 

“I can smell you,” He whispers, lips pressing against your cheek. “Not just you right now, but where you were, where you’ve been, here, within these walls.”

“W-what?”

His feet carry him, guided by an old scent that you can hardly believe is here after so long. But it is, it has to be - you know the journey, have walked it hundreds of times during your time on Pandora, but you can’t imagine that Lo’ak would. You don’t think he ever went inside the outpost during the attack. He shouldn’t know that it's the second hallway instead of the first, shouldn’t know it’s two left turns and one right, and that your door is the 3rd on the left. But he does. 

He even knows which bed was yours and which was your roommate’s, only confirmed when he drops you down onto the thin RDA issued mattress against the far side wall. You land with a yelp, bouncing slightly from the force of the drop, but your noise of surprise is cut off by Lo’ak’s lips against yours.

“Stupid humans,” He growls against your lips. “Can't even breathe air without help. Wish I could teach you, so I wouldn’t have to go without your pretty lips on mine every day.”

You whine into the kiss, his big lips nearly twice the size of yours as they capture your mouth completely. It’s not the first time he’s kissed you, but it’s the first time you can breathe while it happens. 

He pulls away after a few more kisses, his breathing shallow as he reaches for something tied to his loincloth. It’s only then that you see the CO2 mask that’s been attached to his hip this whole time. He pulls the cross strap around his body, the mask hanging low on his chest and the CO2 canister hanging around his hip. He brings the mask to his face with one hand, taking in a few deep breaths, while the other hand works at the ties on his loincloth. 

The material of his covering falls to the ground and he drops the mask in favor of gripping your chin, thumb rubbing soothingly across your cheek. 

“Someone wants to play with you,” He purrs. “Be a good girl and invite him out, okay?”

Your breathing is shaky as you rise up on the bed, knees pressing into the mattress as you come face to face with the flat plane hiding Lo’ak’s cock. His hand moves to the back of your head, guiding you forward until your lips press against the smooth space between his thighs. 

Experience has you knowing what to do now, how to hold onto his thighs with both hands to keep yourself steady as you pepper gentle kisses along the hidden slit. Lo’ak tips his head back at the feel of your tongue sliding along the seam, little teasing kitten licks against the engorging slit that are always from him demanding them, demanding the slower teasing buildup, rather than you being coy. 

He pushes your face harder against him, hissing a ‘yeah, good girl. Like you fucking mean it,’ as he urges you to lick him deeper. When his slit opens, puffy and dripping, you can’t help the moan that falls from your lips as the sweet taste of his slick coats your tastebuds. It controls your body, whatever is in the slick. You feel it, making your body heat up, making you want things you definitely don’t - and you’re in the thick of it now, no mask or breathing breaks to cut whatever effects it usually has on you. It sets your body on fire now, making your thighs clench together as wetness pools in your core, and your brain fuzzes as the first touch of Lo’ak’s cock teases your lips as it starts to slip past the slit. 

You don’t know how long he keeps you there, sucking his cock. He’s dragging it out, taking advantage of the rare opportunity he has now of you without your mask. He drags your mouth along his cock, staring down at you with hooded eyes and letting you suckle gently on the lavender tip. Sometimes he’ll growl, pushing you down harder on his length just to hear you gag when the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat. Other times he’ll pull you off completely, twisting your head so that your lips wrap around his girth from the side, before sliding you slowly back and forth along his length, tongue running over each and every bump and barb along the hot cerulean skin, the bright bioluminescent freckles decorating his cock practically shining under the layer of slick and saliva. 

When he’s finally used you to tease himself enough, he pushes you back flat on the bed, large hands wrapping around your calves and pulling you closer so your ass is just barely hanging off the side. You whimper when he pulls your legs apart, ripping the soaked loincloth from your body, hungry amber eyes staring at your swollen, wet cunt.

“Such a pretty girl,” He moans. The tip of his cock slides along your folds, nudging against your clit before sliding back down and positioning at your entrance. “You ready?”

Your brain is fuzzy and your clit is throbbing, hole clenching with the need to be filled. You close your eyes, looking away from his intense gaze - you don’t want it, you try to remind yourself, you don’t, he’s making you. But a swift smack on your thigh makes your eyes fly open again, Lo’ak’s hard gaze seeming to cut into your very soul.

“Say it, demon. Wanna hear you say it,”

A small cry escapes your lips, body unconsciously trying to bear down on his cock even as you shake your head. He shifts forward just the tiniest bit, lavender tip just barely pressing against your drooling hole enough for it to start to stretch before stopping again. 

“‘Need you, Lo'ak,” he recites, brow cocked, expecting you to repeat it. “Say it.”

“Fuck!” Is what comes out instead - a whiny, frustrated curse, that has your eyes tearing up again and Lo’ak’s ears pinning back against his skull.

His hand is quick to wrap around your throat, fingers digging into the blood vessels at the side of your neck as he hisses down at you. Your hands wrap around his wrist again, fingernails digging in and no doubt leaving red crescent shaped marks in the blue skin. He’s not squeezing your neck, not crushing your windpipe out of anger. You can breathe, the gulping breaths your gasping for are making it into your lungs, but the fingers pressing into the blood vessels make it feel like you can’t. Your head is clouding again, fuzzing like TV static, vision going blurry as his hand doesn’t relent. 

“Fine,” He grunts. “You don’t wanna talk? Don’t.”

You want to scream when he pushes forward, cock bullying its way past your entrance and inside you, stretching you and filling you up. It’s slow and torturous as he fills you impossibly full, the barbs along his length scraping ruthlessly against your slick walls. He sighs, ears flicking in pleasure as your heat envelopes him, stretching around his girth so perfectly he swears you were made for him. 

You can feel the bulge in your belly, the pressure disappearing and reappearing again as he begins to move inside of you. Long, purposeful strokes meant as a punishment, meant to make you feel every agonizingly blissful inch of him as he fucks into your soaked cunt, harder and harder with each thrust. Your mouth moves trying to form words, sound fleeting save for the barely there whispers of ‘fuck’, ‘oh my god’, and ‘please’. Lo’ak hears them anyway, leaning down to silence you with a filthy kiss. His hips pound against yours, unrelenting in their mission to completely fuck the soul of your body, and the sound of slapping skin against skin mix with Lo’ak’s groans and your barely audible breathy whines. 

Lo’ak’s fingers find their way to your swollen clit, rubbing persistently at the sensitive nub until you're crying into his mouth, thighs trying desperately to close together but can’t because of his body between them. The thick press of his knot against your entrance is what pushes your oversensitive body over the edge.

At the first suffocating clench of your pussy around his cock, Lo’ak releases your throat letting all the air it felt like you weren’t getting back into your lungs in a rush of oxygen. You gasp, crying against his lips as you arch up against him, creaming pussy fluttering around him as you cum on his cock. He growls when your teeth latch onto his bottom lip, blunt teeth digging in enough to draw blood, but the way he immediately grabs your hips, shoving his knot against you as hard as he would dare without actually penetrating you, tells you that it was a lust filled growl this time, not an angry one. 

He moans when he spills himself inside you, face pressed against your neck as he fills you up. You swear it feels almost scorching hot, heating you up from the inside and then out as it spills from around Lo’ak’s still buried cock and runs down the curve of your ass and onto the bed sheets. 

Someone clears their throat from behind Lo’ak, and you gasp at the sudden sound, frantically trying to look around Lo’ak’s hulking body to see who it is. 

Lo’ak sighs, undisturbed by sudden intrusion, even going as far as rolling his eyes before slowly pulling out of your used cunt - more of his cum spilling out onto the bed now that he’s not still inside you to keep it in. “Wasn’t expecting you today, bro,”

Your eyes widen when he moves out of the way, revealing a smug looking Neteyam in the doorway, still very much dressed up in his warrior’s gear. 

“I had to make time to see our pretty little demon,” Neteyam says, bright amber eyes sweeping over your exhausted form. He crosses the room with three long strides, one knee pressing into the bed as he leans down to press a soft kiss to your cheek. “That was a nice show. I know you’re tired, paskalin,”

His eyes meet yours, amber irises practically swallowed up by the blacks of his pupils. A hand presses against your belly, sneaking down towards your oversensitive pussy, his pointer finger reaching out to tap against your clit as you whine. 

“But it’s really not fair that you smell more like Lo’ak than me now, is it?”

**Special thanks to @neteyamsyawntu for the prompt!

Taglist: @eywaite @loaksulluyswife @erenjaegerwifee @f-cklife @beautiful-brown-skin-05 @anastasia1777-blog @localjasmine @tsewtx @skywonder @neteyamswillow @luvv4j4ybe11 @pandoraslxna @avatarwifey

[constantmourning]

Hey i don't know if you take requests but I saw your x reader fic on buggy and I just had to ask if you could do one for a plus sized reader who's a Lil (alot) insecure about her figure? Like stretchmarks and all???

Do what you want with that information I just think it'll be cute.

Insecure

[Buggy x Plus Size!Fem!Reader]

Summary: Every time Buggy gets close to you, and kisses get too heated, you run. You decide to ask for some advice, but things don't go to plan.

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: Mentions of being marked up, biting, bruising, sweet but rough Buggy, hints that reader is inexperienced, insecure!reader, buggy calling you baby, not beta'd (Im Sorry)

A/N: THANK YOU FOR THIS REQUEST MY DEAR!! It was my birfday when i started writing this... I literally wanted to post this for my birthday but a day late isnt too bad. ANYWAY! If you want a part two with the actual smut?? LET ME KNOW PLEASE!! I love smut and wanna ride buggy so bad sfnsjf (P.s. the way buggy says baby literally has got me in a chokehold)

“Alvida…?” You asked as you approached the pirate, who looked like she definitely was not feeling whatever it was you were putting off. She hummed at you and you continued, “I need advice.”

She immediately perked up. “You’re coming to me for advice? Why not your beloved, Buggy?”

You call a man beloved one time and no one will let you live that shit down. You inhaled sharply through your nose. “Because, I don’t want to ask him.”

“Okay…” Alvida watched you, and motioned for you to sit in front of her. You pulled a chair up and folded your arms on the table. “What could I possibly help you with?”

You scrunched your face and Alvida snorted at you. “Look, I’ve been feeling, uh… Not good. And you’re my friend!” Alvida snorted again. “Okay, acquaintance, whatever! Anyway!” You snapped, causing Alvida to scrunch her face. "You’re so confident! And, I just wanna be like you… I wanna be confident too.”

“Did someone say something to you? About how you look?” Alvida narrowed her eyes. “I will kill them.”

Your eyes widened, “No!” You put your hands up. “No. I was just curious, about how nothing seems to phase you. I wanna be that way. But I’m not. I don’t like the way my tummy looks sometimes-”

“Tummy?” Alvida smiled before she saw you pout. “Continue…”

“Yeah, tummy! I don’t like my rolls, or the stretch marks on my arms, legs, stomach.” You wanted to throw something at her when she gave you a blank stare. She looked back down at her drink and you were about to snatch it from but she finally responded to you.

“I think you should talk about that with your beloved.” Alvida’s mouth popped the ‘b’ in beloved and she took a sip. “Anyways,” She smiled at you, "he’s probably listening right now.”

Your stomach dropped. You forgot he could do that; listen in or watch you whenever he wanted. You groaned, wanting to chug the nearest bottle of liquor. You threw yourself onto the table and made the ugliest guttural noise you could muster. Earning you a confused and disgusted look from Alvida.

You heard someone clear their throat and you turned. Buggy stood there, staring down at you. You turned to Alvida and gave her a look. "I need a drink." Your hand shot towards her glass and she quickly snatched it from you.

"Get your own!"

Buggy's hand was placed on the back of your neck. He lowered himself to your level and you shakily inhaled. "I think you should come with me."

You blew a raspberry and sighed. "Okay." You stood up and Buggy's hand migrated towards your lower back, and he guided you towards what you could only assume were his quarters. "How much of that did you hear?" You were genuinely curious, but also slightly afraid. You couldn't place your finger on why you were so worried, but you were being eaten from the inside with doubt.

You were ahead of Buggy, so you couldn't see his expression change, but it did. His face dropped when he heard your tone. "Enough." He spoke clearly and confidently. You let out a stifled whine.

The both of you reached Buggy's room and he opened the door. He led you in and the door shut behind the both of you. You were staring at the wall, not looking at him. Buggy placed a hand on his hip and cocked his head at you.

"Baby…" Buggy, the way he said that, had you weak. You were folding immediately. "Why would you go to Alvida with those questions when I'm right here?"

You felt like you were gulping down air. You still didn't look at him. "Bug- I-" Tears pricked your eyes. You tried to wipe them as they formed and you saw Buggy tense out of the corner of your eyes. "I'm a little insecure."

Without thinking, Buggy responded, "Why?"

"Buggy!" You turned towards him at a neck breaking speed. "Ugh!" You wanted to rip all of your hair out. Buggy was confused. "I feel like- I don't look-"

"Stop." Buggy put his hand up. "Do not finish that sentence." Buggy shook his head and took a step closer to you. Something clicked. Almost audibly. "Is this why you've been so distant?"

"Huh?" You crossed your arms, covering yourself. Soothing yourself.

"Everytime I get close to you; put my hand up your shirt or try to get you of your clothes-"

"Buggy!"

"We're the only ones in here, it's fine." He waved his hand, "Back to the problem at hand… When we get close, you flee. Why?"

You gave him a blank stare. "Because, um," you knew fleeing was not an option anymore, "what if you don't like what you see?"

Buggy's eyes almost bugged out of his head. "Don't like- What?!" He stumbled on his words, baffled. "Baby, I want to fuck your brains out-" It was your turn for your eyes to bug out. "-no amount of stretch marks or cellulite is gonna change that." You stared, mouth agape. "I can show you?"

"Show me?" You pointed to yourself, as if he could have been talking to anyone else. Buggy nodded. You were baffled. "Right now?" He nodded again. "Oh no, what if I-"

"I don't care," Buggy shrugged, "if you don't want to we don't have to, but any of your current 'problems' are not going to bother me."

You sighed, trembling slightly. "Okay."

Buggy perked up. "Really?" He sounded like he was unsure if his words of encouragement were going to work. He leaped onto you as soon as you gave another okay. Buggy's lips were pressed to yours and he held you as close to him as possible. His hands gripped your hips and he led you back to his bed. You hit the mattress and Buggy's lips began to travel down your neck.

You stared at the ceiling, heart pounding against your ribcage. "I, uh, this is- I don't usually get this close to others-" Your fingers idly played with the covers.

"Oh?" He questioned, his hands beginning to slide up your shirt, "In that case, I'll make this extra fun!" Your hands moved from the sheets and to Buggy's back. "Get comfortable, I plan on being here for as long as you need reassurance."

You couldn't help but smile. You settled, your muscles relaxing and you found yourself whining as he nipped at your neck. Buggy’s gloved hands grabbed and then pinched at your hips. His grip was bruising. He wanted others to know who you were with. And he wanted you to have a reminder the next day of who made you feel so good.

You mewled under Buggy, eyes closed tight as he pulled up your shirt. You moved up, and without thinking (you knew you would run if you did think) you let him slide your top off. One of Buggy’s hands, without missing a beat, was at your bra. He unclasped it and pulled it from you, tossing it across the room. He pushed himself up, looking down at you. Involuntarily, you covered your face.

“Uh-uh,” Buggy pulled your hands away from your face, “I want you to see how much I enjoy you.”

“Okay,” Your voice was barely above a whisper. “I can do that,” You were reassuring yourself more than anything.

“Good… You’re being so good, I want you to continue being good.” He let go of your hands and you placed them at your sides. Buggy’s eyes ran over your body. His eyes looked over all the (what you believed were) blemishes. His fingers traced your stretch marks, on your hips, arms, breasts, stomach… You really were going to be there a while.

His hands moved to your waistband and he was pulling your pants down within seconds. You gulped, sure he heard you. Your eyes watched Buggy. You kicked your pants off and Buggy’s fingers were on your legs. He kissed one of your thighs, his eyes darting up to yours as he did so.

His fingers gently followed all of the marks on your thighs, the cellulite, stretch marks, anything. If it was on there, he was touching it. His touch was soft and lingered… Until he bit down on your thigh and grabbed the other one in a bruising grip, again. You yelped loud enough for the whole ship to hear and Buggy smiled into your skin.

“Do you believe me?” He peered up at you. Your head bobbed and Buggy went to stand up.

“Don’t stop though!” It came out without you thinking. You wanted- No… You needed Buggy. You needed him to touch you more. You needed to hear him call you good. And you needed him to mark you up.

Buggy’s smile was devilish. “Well, I can’t let the show stop now if the audience is enjoying it!” Buggy put his arms out, his head tilting back with pride. “I promise to show you a great time, baby.”

[sporadicthingcollection]

The Unskinny Bop (Buggy the Clown x F!Reader)

Summary: You're a really good cook and that's most of the problem. The rest of it is that he's too weak-willed to resist a treat right in front of him. Pairing: Buggy the Clown x F!Reader Rating: 🌶 Explicit 🌶 Word Count: ~6.1k Warnings: Body insecurity (male and female), cunnilingus, masturbation, PiV sex A/N: Dad Bod Buggy my beloved

---

She's playing all night And the music's all right Mama's got a squeeze box And Daddy never sleeps at night

---

It's his own damn fault, really.

He's the one who charmed the pretty diner cook — that’d be you — into joining his crew. It was an easy sell. You get off of the little podunk island you’re stuck on and he gets those delicious little puffy pastry things every morning.

What he didn’t expect was how well you made everything else. He's had to let his pants out three times in two months because of it.

Fluffy pancakes, perfectly slung hash, and a pie-looking thing with eggs and vegetables and cheese you called a “keesh” for breakfast. Sandwiches stuffed with veggies and meat, piles of pasta tossed in rich sauce, and thick slabs of juicy steak for dinner. Not to mention the mountains of snacks and treats in between.

He came to realize that food is a key aspect of your personality. It's just what you do. A dog chases its tail, Richie pushes things off of tables, and you flit around the deck like a pastry pixie, abducting people into the galley for taste-testing. 

Like right now.

His only warning that you're coming is a chirped “Captain!” before he's yanked through the door. He doesn't even have time to react before you've shoved a spoonful of something into his mouth.

He's not surprised. You do it to everyone who walks in. Food is how you show affection.

“Whaddya think?” you ask.

He swallows it too quickly to make a judgment, but it's sweet and that's all he needs to know. “Tasty.”

Every time you smile, he swears a flashbulb goes off somewhere. “Good,” you say. “It'll be even better tomorrow.”

He doesn't even bother to hide the whine. “What?”

“They're icebox pies, silly goose,” you say. “You gotta let ‘em chill.”

Another thing about you is that you're a tease. Form-fitting blouses done up just a button too short and your hair pulled back to show off your soft shoulders. A sweet little wink and a touch of the shoulder as you place a plate in front of him. And now feeding him something delicious only to tell him he has to wait until tomorrow to have more.

Your fingers snapping in front of his face jolt him back to the present. “Huh?”

“I asked if you wanted to lick the spoon,” you say.

Does he wanna lick the spoon? What kind of question is that? He plucks it from your hands. “Is the sky blue? Do bears shit in the woods? Am I the captain?”

You roll your eyes, but you smile. “Gonna stick these in the big cooler and I'll be right back for the other,” you say.

Carefully, you pick up two of the three foil-covered pie tins resting on the counter and turn on your heel.

He watches you closely as you round the corner and out of sight. Such a nice soft ass you've got. He desperately wants to grab it, but the one time you got goosed, you slugged the guy so hard he was out cold for the rest of the day.

Something pink, creamy, and flecked with seeds coats the wooden spoon. He drags his tongue along the back of it and--

Oh. Oh, that is good.

His taste buds scream in ecstasy. The slightest little moan escapes his lips. For the briefest of moments, he thinks it's better than sex and his cock twitches, but he regains his sense of self before going completely mad.

He licks and licks and licks until every little drop of pink, sweet, creamy filling is gone.

Frustration bubbles in his chest. Waiting all night for this is gonna suck. Especially since you probably won't be whipping it out for breakfast.

He is captain, though. He could order you to give it to him. But you'd almost certainly laugh in his face and he really, really doesn't want that.

The shimmer of foil catches his eye. The third pie sits on the counter. Untouched. Uneaten. Mocking him in its creamy deliciousness.

He looks around. You're nowhere to be seen.

...maybe just a little bit.

He scrapes barely half a spoonful from the top. Not enough to be noticeable, just enough to satisfy his sweet tooth.

Mmm. Smooth. Thick. Sweet. Fruity. Delicious.

...a little bit more can't hurt. Then he can wait until tomorrow.

He gets a piece of the fruit itself this time and the squirt of juice on his tongue is enough to make him spoon up another dollop. And then another. And then another.

This is why your pants are so tight, his inner monologue chides. This is why you need a new belt. This is why you wear that thing around your waist. Goddamn hedonist.

They're not that tight, he retorts. And they wouldn't be at all if you weren't such a damn good cook. It's all your fault for putting delicious food in front of him and looking so pretty while doing it.

He turns to lean against the counter, only to stop dead.

You're standing there, eyes wide and brows raised. You point at him, then at the pie tin, then back at him. “Are you... Eating the...?”

“No,” he says quickly. He realizes he's holding the pie tin. “No.”

Something odd glints in your eyes as you approach him. Gingerly, you take the pie and the spoon from his hands. He lets you. You step even closer.

You're so close to him, close enough for him to feel the rise and fall of your breasts. Hell, you're so short compared to him that he can see straight down your shirt.

His heart races. What are you going to do? Throw it out? Throw him out? Punch his lights out? Never speak of this again? 

To his amazement, you do none of those things. Instead, you spoon up a bit more of the pie filling and raise it to his lips. You blink up at him with big doe eyes.

He looks between you and the spoon a few times. This can't be right. You should be furious. He opens his mouth to say something, but it's forgotten as you shove the spoon in his mouth.

Why are strawberries so delicious? Why is he so weak? Why are your breasts so warm and squishy against him?

He swallows it and, as he opens his mouth to breath, you shove another spoonful in. It's just as good the twentieth time.

You offer him another. And another. And another. He accepts them all.

Until he goes to take another and you pull it away. He frowns at you. You pull it back farther and farther. He grabs your wrist and pulls your hand closer. You resist, but he's spent every day of his life trimming sails and hauling cargo.

He gets the spoon into his mouth and claims his prize with a smirk.

That glint in your eyes turns into a blaze. You drop the pie tin and spoon and they hit the floor with a clatter. Pulling your wrist from his grip, you grab him by the cheeks and yank him into a kiss.

He yelps against your lips and you take the opportunity to shove your tongue between them. Licking, lapping, pressing your soft, warm body right up against his.

Only a eunuch could resist this.

He kisses you back with the same fervor, grabbing your ass to lift you up a bit and it's so soft and pliant and perfect that he can't help but dig his fingers in.

Oh, it's everything he dreamed it would be. Your warm lips moving against his, your slick tongue dancing in his mouth, your soft palms gripping his jaw.

You've lapped up all the lingering sweetness in his mouth by the time he runs out of breath. He pushes you away and you whimper, your eyes wide and your shoulders heaving up and down.

Deprived of oxygen, he says something completely, absolutely, utterly brain dead. “Can I touch your tits?”

Instead of slapping him, you nod so hard your updo shakes loose. Curly strands fall in your face.

He blinks. “Wait, really?” You nod harder. “You sure?”

Something in you snaps. He can see it in your eyes. You grab him by the hand and damn near drag him out the door.

A quick trip up the stairs and across the main deck and he's pushing open the door to his quarters. You bustle past him and, once the click of the lock sounds, you grab him by the collar and yank him into another kiss, just as wet and desperate as the last.

He barely has enough time to shuck his coat about you throw him onto the bed, clambering atop him. You're a bit heavier than he expects. Not that he says that to your face, but you’re so light on your feet that he was starting to think you were filled with cotton candy. You're certainly sweet enough.

You yank his hat from his head and toss it aside. His bandana follows and his hair falls around his shoulders.

You suck in a breath. “So pretty.”

He shrugs. “Thanks-- mmph.”

He’s silenced by you standing on your knees to pull his hair out of its pigtails. This requires you to stick your tits in his face and oh my god they're like big marshmallows you smell like cinnamon.

He can't help himself. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you in closer, breathing deeply. So warm, so soft.

You giggle and the vibration makes his face tingle. You pull away to fiddle with your blouse buttons. “Wanna know a secret?” you whisper.

“Is the secret boobs?” Wow, what the hell was that? He needs to stop talking.

Lucky for him, you grin. You open your blouse and a whole lot more than he was expecting spills out. You toss the blouse to the side and plant your hands on your hips. “Va-va-voom.”

He's speechless. Shaken. Struck utterly dumb by the sight before him. All he can do is pull off his gloves and take them in his hands, pushing them, weighing them, squeezing them. There’s just… so much. Round, squishy, bouncy, threatening to surge right out of your lacy bra.

“I am but one man,” he mumbles.

That makes you giggle and that makes them jiggle. Like two sacks of...like a pair of...

...he can't think of a metaphor that isn't unpleasant, so he just sticks his face in there again before something else stupid comes out of his mouth. You laugh even more and it vibrates against his cheeks and his -- that... -- and if God struck him down at this very second he would die a happy man.

You let him linger a moment before throwing your weight forward to push him onto the bed. He whimpers like a kicked puppy as you pull away.

You nibble your lip and knit your brow up as you fumble with his belt. “I showed you mine, now you show me yours.”

He's flattered, but it's the only thing keeping his stomach in check. That can't come off yet.

He takes your hands in his own. “What's the rush, beautiful?” he says. He brings them to his lips, first one, then the other. He gently kisses your knuckles, your palms, your wrists. “This is your show. We got all night.”

You're cute when you huff. You're even cuter when your face screws up into a pout. You yank your hands away and plant them on your soft hips. “Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting for this?” you whine.

That throws him for a loop and a half. You've wanted him too? Someone as clever and cute and talented as you wanted... him? He's not used to that. Not used to that at all.

He's stunned just long enough for you to get his belt open. You move on to his vest straps next, making quick work of those. He sucks his stomach in just as you pull it open.

Your eyes widen, and you break into a grin as they sweep up and down his torso. “Oh, hell-o,” you say, voice breathless.

He's bright red, he just knows it. “Hi,” he replies dumbly. He hopes the strain in his voice isn't too obvious.

You grin even wider. Your fingers ghost up his sides -- thank God it's his feet that are ticklish -- right up to his pecs. You give them a squeeze, not unlike how he palmed your breasts a few moments ago. The slightest of squeaks escapes him.

“I knew you were hiding something good,” you say. You give his nipples a tweak -- he squeaks louder -- and trail your fingers down to his waistband. “Let's see what else you've been keeping from me.”

He knows you're talking about his dick. He panics all the same.

He shoots a hand out to kill the light -- that should buy him some time -- and throws his weight into flipping you over. You squeal as he pins you to the bed and yanks your pants off.

And then he realizes. Your breasts? They're proportional.

Beneath him is the most lovely expanse of body he's ever seen. Soft and warm and squishy and made of convex curves that flow from gentle arms and smooth shoulders right into a pair of plump hips and shapely thighs.

He can't form words. He can't form thoughts. All he can do is stare with his mouth dropped open. What else can you do when you're in the presence of the divine?

And then he sees your face. Your eyes wide and unsure as they dart around the room. Your lips pressed together into a terse line. 

“What?” he asks.

The line scrunches to the side. “I'm bigger than I ought to be, I know,” you say. You sound as if you've said it a thousand times.

He gets mad. He can't help it. It's what he does. “Are you shitting me?”

You flinch a little, though more out of surprise than fear. “N-No, I don't--”

He wants to say so many things. About how this is perfection. About how you are the most gorgeous human being he's ever laid eyes on. About how this is everything he's ever wanted in life. How you're everything and you shouldn't be so damn sheepish.

But he can't get it out. All that comes out is a raspy, rude, “Shut the fuck up.”

You stare at him in shock. And not the fun shock. It's the kind where you're not sure if you've stepped on eggshells or not.

Fuck it. No time for words. He grabs your thighs and pulls you forward, yanking your panties off and sweet holy shit you don't shave down there how could you possibly be any more perfect?

His mouth waters. His cock throbs. He dives in. He drags his tongue up your inner thighs, soft and smooth and sweet as that pie.

“Captain--!” A nip to the tender flesh turns the exclamation into a squeak.

“I said shut up,” he says between kisses.

Finally, you stop talking. You only pant and moan as he shoves his face into your pussy, lapping at your already sopping cunt. Did he do this? Are you this wet because of him?

He can't help it. He stuffs his hand down the front of his pants to fondle himself. Like the desperate bastard he is, his cock’s hard and leaking already.

He grinds against his palm as he gorges himself on you. Licking, sucking, swirling, punctuating with a few nips for good measure. It's all harmonized by the most beautiful sounds he's ever heard flowing from your lips, high-pitched and whiny.

He's not sure how long has passed when you grab his head and push him away. Time flows strangely between your thighs.

You've got a crazed look in your eyes again. “I want you inside me.”

He wants to say something clever, something cool and on brand for him, like it's not time for the finale yet or but my leading lady isn't satisfied.

But that would delay being inside you and he's too addled to think of anything. He jumps to his feet and wriggles out of his trousers and shorts. If he were more aware of himself, he'd be humiliated by just how much he has to shimmy and dance around to get them off his hips, but there's not enough blood in his brain to be self-conscious.

He kicks them away in whatever direction. Something crashes to the floor and he doesn't care. He looks back to your beautiful face--

You're wide-eyed as you look at him. He follows your gaze, right down to his--

In all the excitement, he's not sucking it in anymore.

Now it's his turn to be sheepish. He sucks it in again. But he can't hold it. Too much blood in his cock. He tries again with the same result.

Unfortunately for him, it's drawn your attention even more. Off comes your bra, and you don't take your eyes off his stomach the whole time.

Now he really can't think anymore. They're just so pretty and perfect. You're so pretty and perfect. He doesn't deserve this. This is a hell of a mismatch if ever there was one. You, divinity in the flesh. Him, a fat, dirty old clown.

This is a joke. It has to be. Someone put you up to this and now you're gonna back out and he's gonna let you because you deserve better so he better just rip the bandage off now and--

“Out,” he spits. “Get out.”

You blink at him in shock, then your face hardens. You speak with the firmness of a queen who's sick of her courtiers’ bullshit. “Get over here and get on top of me.”

You're mocking him. You gotta be. There’s no other explanation. “I said--”

You look him in the eyes. Something dangerous glitters there. “Buggy, get the fuck on top of me.”

It comes out at a hoarse yell. “Stop mocking me!”

You spring upwards and, with that wild strength that surprises him every time, you throw him on the bed. It squeaks as he bounces -- actually, that might have come from him.

You've got a look on your face he can only describe as murderous. “I did not wait two months for you to chicken out,” you say. You clamber onto him. “I did not wait two fucking months for you to finally man up and say something only for you to get self-conscious!”

Fear, anger, and arousal battle for control of his body. Arousal wins. You are hot as a griddle when you're mad.

You sit yourself on his belly, just above his cock. It twitches against your ass and he's sure it's made of clouds and he groans.

“Look at me,” you say.

He doesn't. He can't. He doesn't want to see the scorn that's surely in your eyes.

You learn forward and grab his chin, squeezing his cheeks and forcing him to look. Even in the dim light, he can see the sheen of sweat on your face and the rise and fall of your chest as you pant.

“If you want me to leave, I will,” you say, “but you will never get this chance again.”

No. No no no no. He wants you. He wants you so bad. He's never had perfection this close and it's never wanted him as much as you seem to.

“Do you want me to leave?” you ask firmly.

He shakes his head so hard it hurts.

You don't grin. You simply release his chin and lift yourself up. You lower yourself on his cock and, as he watches it disappear, inch by slick inch into your hot, wet pussy, the battle is over.

He doesn't care if this is a trick anymore. He's going to get his.

He grabs your thighs and pulls you down onto him, fingers sinking into the smooth flesh. You gasp as he bottoms out, gripping the swell of his hips. He doesn't care. They're called love handles for a reason.

And then you start to bounce.

It starts in your legs. Pumping your thighs to lift yourself up and drop down onto his cock. The jolt ripples through your whole body, from your thighs to your belly to your breasts.

He's transfixed. So transfixed that he doesn't even notice you grabbing his pecs, squishing and squashing them between your gentle fingers. You tweak his nipples and he damn near howls.

He can't let you have all the fun. He pops his hand off to swirl his fingers around your clit.

But you don't cry out or moan. You start babbling. Something about eating and how hot he is and how much you love that he loves your cooking and it's all interspersed with pleasant-sounding gibberish. But he doesn't hear a word of it. You're too warm and slick and it goes in one ear and it the other.

But the sounds. God, the sounds of him sliding in and out of you. Wet and disgusting and it makes his mouth water and his cock leak and that just makes it wetter--

The slap of skin on skin and wet on wet and his moans and your chattering all mingle into a delicious symphony. 

But it stops all too soon. Your breath hitches and you bend at the waist, singing his name like a songbird, the same little melody over and over. “Buggy, Buggy, Buggy...!”

His name dissolves into little yips and gasps as your cunt flutters around his cock. It's so good. Better than treasure. Better than adrenaline. Better than a full belly after a hard day's work--

He realizes he's not wearing a condom. Fuck. “Where ya want it?” he grunts.

You don't hesitate. “In me,” you say between gasps.

In you? Inside you? Spilling his hot, wet cum into your hot, wet cunt? Your cunt? Soaking it? Seeding it? Making it even messier and sloppier and filling you up so much that--

He almost pops right then and there, but he bites his lip. “Nuh-uh. Where?”

“In me!” you spit.

He whines the most unmanly of whines. He will. He won't. He wants to. He can't. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Captain,” you whimper, “Buggy, please...”

He looks up at you. Your hands on his chest, your breasts heaving with each breath, your little belly rising and falling, your luscious thighs on either side of his hips, your lips dropped open as you pant, your bush surrounding his fingers--

God damn it.

He throws you to the side as he pops like a champagne cork. A few drops end up on you, but most of it splatters onto the underside of his belly, where it's started obeying gravity.

One hand grips the sheets and the other grips something warm and his hips buck and his head swims and his mouth makes utterly pathetic noises. Yes yes yes yes yes yes yes.

He crashes back to earth like a meteor strike. All he can see is white as he flops back onto the mattress, gasping for breath.

He has no idea how long it takes for him to recover. But something soft tickles the knuckles of his detached hand. A shudder racks him as he turns his head towards you.

Post-orgasm haze still clouds your eyes, but they're big and round as a doe’s as you cradle his hand close to his face. You press your lips to his knuckles.

He gives a weak smile. “Hi.”

You giggle. God, he loves that giggle. He wishes he could hear it every day. He'd put it in a sea shell if he could, carry it around in his pocket and press it to his ear whenever he feels lonely. Or spin it into cotton candy. It's certainly light and sweet enough. Or whip it up onto a foam and fold it into batter like he watched you do that one time for cake...

His stomach growls. He needs to stop thinking about food.

You kiss his knuckles again, still smiling so very sweetly. “Are you alright?”

“Fuckin’ amazing,” he mumbles. It's the truth.

Detaching his other hand, he feels around on the floor. There's a towel here somewhere... Unless he threw it on the chair... Or over the folding screen...

He finds it slung over the door of his wardrobe. He offers it to you, but you shake your head. “After you.”

Suit yourself. He mops his belly up as you watch. Shit, this was a big one.

Satisfied, he tosses the towel away. He rolls over to take you in his arms, but he finds nothing. You're standing up, pulling his coat on and closing it around your front.

“Get over here,” he says. “That's an order.”

“I gotta clean up,” you say.

He panics. He can't help it. His voice quivers like a child's. “Don’t leave. Please.”

You give him a kind look that almost makes him cry. “I’ll be right back,” you coo. “I promise.”

He doesn't want to be alone. Not now. Tears prick at his eyes and his lip quivers. But you're out the door before he can stop you.

You're not coming back. He knows it. He disappointed you. How could he not? You're beautiful. You're divine. You're perfect.

And what is he? A fat old clown.

He lays there, shivering in the cold air, too afraid to move. Too aware of his shortcomings. Too aware of every flaw, every defect, every deficiency. His temper. His teeth. His nose. His appetite. His everything.

The door opens. The moonlight frames your silhouette for a moment before you close the door behind you.

He nearly sobs with relief. You don't notice, thankfully, as you shuck his coat.

He launches his arms at you as he sits upright, pulling you into an embrace as he falls back down. He lays you to the side, slipping under your arm and tucking his head in the crook between your chin and chest.

You thread your fingers through his hair. “Don't tell me you thought I wasn't coming back.”

He murmurs something he forgets as soon as it leaves his lips. You're so soft. So warm. So comfortable. And he's so exhausted.

You giggle. You kiss his forehead and slide your fingers through his hair. “Bonwee, sha.”

He has no idea what that means, but you say it with such warmth that it must be something good. He snuggles up close to you.

Rocked by the sea and calmed by your heartbeat, he drifts off.

---

He sleeps well, but he stirs a few times.

The first is when you shift out from under him, mumbling something in a language he can't place. You roll onto your side, your back to him. He doesn't like that at all and pulls you in to be the little spoon. You squeak. It's cute. He doesn't care that his belly presses against your back. 

He stirs again when his arm falls asleep and he rolls onto his side. You follow him this time. You press yourself right up against his back, breasts and belly and thighs squishing against him. You're so warm.

The final time is as the gray light of dawn slips through the windows. He's shaken from a dream and he grumbles.

“I gotta go get started on breakfast,” you whisper. “Just wanted to let you know I wasn't lovin’ and leavin’.”

That's so sweet of you. “You're so sweet,” he mumbles sweetly.

You giggle. “See you in a few hours.”

You kiss the tip of his nose and he's not even upset.

===

You had a lovely night, but you're walking a bit funny and it's making your usual bustling around the galley just difficult enough to be annoying. And the visions of your stark naked captain filling your head are making it even harder.

You're a very simple woman, like your mother before you. You like men. You like food. You like men who like food. You especially like men who like your food.

Captain Buggy's a man. Captain Buggy likes food. And he loves your food, if his constant hovering in the galley is anything to go on. And he loves it a lot and it's showing.

The memory of him lying beneath you, his warm hips against your thighs, his belly wobbling as you bounce atop him, his head thrown back in bliss, surprises you just as you're tossing a flapjack. It slams into the ceiling and stays there.

Your fellow cook, a swarthy fellow going by Bloomer, casts the new ceiling decor an odd look. He turns it on you. “You alright, girl?”

You know what? Screw this. Everyone else can handle breakfast. “I'm gonna go wake up the captain,” you say. “How's he like his coffee?”

Milk and two cubes of sugar, he tells you. You put in cream and three cubes. Man's gotta get his strength back from last night, you tell yourself as you set off across the deck. 

You knock three times on the door. No answer. You knock harder. Still nothing. You take that as a sign he may be dead and enter just in case.

Captain Buggy is, in fact, quite alive, if not also naked. He's in front of the mirror... or his face is, anyways. His body is turned completely around as he examines the reflection of his rear. He grabs a handful, thick fingers sinking into the squish. He gives it a jiggle and it wobbles.

You don't blame him. It's a great ass. Perfect for grabbing and digging your nails into. Next time, you're making him get on top so you can do just that. 

But you prefer his front. That's where all the good shit is. Soft, muscular pecs, perfect for grabbing and groping, covered in a dusting of hair that trails down to his soft belly.

His hands go there next, pinching his sides. He gives them a shake and his belly bounces. 

That little zing shoots up your gut and into your throat, that one you always get around men like him. That same one as when you first saw him from across the diner, draining a pitcher of beer. The same one you had last night when you walked in on him eating pie filling. And now, watching him preening after a wild romp.

...or you thought he was preening. He turns his body around and as his hands go to his face -- he's got a stronger jawline than you'd expected when he's barefaced -- you notice his laugh lines deepen. He lets out a grunt of disgust as his lips curl.

You frown. He's saying ugh as if you couldn't keep your hands off of him last night. Coaxing him in closer with pie filling just so you could feel his body molding against yours. Grabbing his cheeks and yanking him in for a kiss you'd been craving for months. Dragging him to his cabin and fucking yourself on him while you dug your nails into whatever soft flesh you could grab.

You close the door with a firm check of the hips. The slam startles him, but he calms as he sees you. Somewhat. There's still an uneasy look in his eye.

“G’morning,” he says. A little blush blooms across his cheeks. He avoids eye contact.

He'd be cute if he wasn't pathetic. You set the coffee down on the nearest surface and wrap your arms around his waist, resting your hands on the swell just above his hips and resting your cheek between his shoulder blades.

“Thank you for finally taking the hint,” you say into his skin.

He chuckles, a low, vibrating thrum. “I never miss a cue, baby.”

Lies. You've been trying everything. Flirting. Making his favorite food. You even went braless one day on a supply run with him and he didn't even blink. Idiot.

“Then why'd it take you so damn long?”

He scoffs. “Had to make sure I wasn't seeing things,” he mumbles.

He's so pathetic. Like a wet cat. You can't help but squeeze his sides--

He jumps away from you like you gave him an electric shock. “Stop it!” he spits.

You blink. “Stop what?”

“Stop-- Stop mocking me!”

You blink a few more times. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

The flush deepens along with his scowl. “Quit touching me like that.”

Not what he was saying last night. “Like what?”

“Stop grabbing my--” He huffs. “I know I’m fat. Quit rubbing it in.”

Pardon? Did you hear that correctly? Does he know who he's talking to? You try to keep your tone even, but you were never good at that. “Permission to speak freely, Captain?”

He blanches. “...No.”

Too bad. You grab him by the waist and throw him onto the bed. He yelps as he bounces, then once again as you straddle his waist.

“Buggy. Darling. Cher,” you say. “Do you really think I would have fucked you if I didn't think you were hot shit?”

He simmers like a boiling pot with the lid still on. “Maybe!”

Pour l’amour de Dieu, c’est un contraieuse et un tête de cabri et pourquoi ce clown so fucking stupid?

You scoot backwards, kissing your way down his chest. Each one gets a tiny grunt from him until you get to his belly. He growls and tries to roll away, but you hold fast. You gently kiss just above his navel, then the tuft of blue hair right below it.

You peer up at him. He peers back, brow knit up, questioning you.

You press your face into his navel and blow a raspberry against his skin.

Buggy squeal-laughs. You've never heard him make that noise before and it's very cute. You do it again and he devolves into laughter.

“Sto-o-op!” he cackles.

You do not. You do it again and again until he's wheezing and not scowling any more. You stare up at him, fingering the tuft of hair below his navel.

He comes down slowly, cackles turning to giggles to breathless gasps. He finally sees you staring. “What?”

“Feeling better?” you ask. He huffs, but he does nod. “Good. Now stop being mean to my favorite captain.”

He frowns a bit at that. “Who’s that? Alvida? When'd she come up?” You keep staring at him. He blinks. “Wait, you mean--?”

Gros couillion. “No, the other guy I fucked last night,” you say. He bristles. Fuck’s sake. “Yes, you!”

He blinks again. The flush returns. “You mean that?”

“I wouldn't be on top of your naked-ass body if I didn't.” You place lean in close, the tip of your nose bumping his. “And you have a very nice body, Captain.”

Just for emphasis, you grab his side, right at the fleshiest part, and give a hard squeeze. He jumps, but nods.

He tries to dive in for a kiss, but you pull away. If you do that, you'll be here all morning. You stand up, offering him your hands. “C’mon, breakfast is ready,” you say.

“I'm not hungry.” His stomach growls. He glares at it. “Shut up.”

Trump card time. “Guess I'll just have to feed all those beignets to Richie, then.”

His eyes go wide. “...you made bin-yays?”

He still can't pronounce it right, but he's getting there. “Sure did,” you say coolly. You examine your nails. “Won't be good for much longer.”

His stomach growls again. “And that pie?” 

“Should be good to go, but you better be quick. They'll go fast.”

He jumps to his feet and licks his lips. “Well, keep some for me! Lemme-- Lemme get dressed and I'll be right down.”

“Don't take too long,” you say.

You turn to leave, but he grabs your hand. With a yank and a twirl, he pulls you flush against him and into a kiss.

You melt right into it. Rough lips move against yours, his warm body molds against you, strong arms holding you tight, belly pressing against yours... his nose squishing into your cheek. Wonderful, all of it.

You separate with a pop. He grins at you and wipes his wrist along his lips. “Didn’t think I was gonna let you leave without that?”

You blush. Now he decides to be slick. “Just get dressed.”

You twirl him around and, with a flat hand, you swat his ass. Just to see it quiver. The slap echoes in the small room and he jumps, but you can't stick around to see the look on his face.

You've got work to do.

---

Special thanks to my bf, Meg, and Ollie for beta-ing!

To the Mastahpost | To the Tip Jar

[theteapotofdoom]

Straw Hats Crew: But how are we gonna get Nami back? Do you know where she is?

Luffy: No … but I know someone who does :)

Me: Oh fuck please tell me he took the bag with Buggy’s head, oh my god PLEASE tell me he took the bag with Buggy’s head, please, please, please, PLEASE, let the final arc of the season be my beloved boys rescuing my beloved Nami with the reluctant help of my beloved cringefail unhinged silly little meow meow Buggy

Luffy: *pulls Buggy’s head out of the bag*

Me, a normal person:

[soft-mafia]

The Other Woman

warnings: angst, fem reader, not proofread

a/n: I remember getting a request about something similar to this, but it included smut— my brain went a different direction when writing this.

Y/n leaned her head over the railing of the ship, the sounds of the waves crashing against the side, and the quiet noises of the night were the only things comforting her. She gripped the railing, squeezing her eyes shut as she let out a shaky break. Tears filled her waterline.

She recounted the rollercoaster of emotions she had felt today. Fearing that her boyfriend had died, his only remains being his body parts without feet, hands and a head; sobbing all alone while Cabaji and Mohji were already fighting over who would replace him.

When Buggy finally came back alive— he brought somebody with him. Whatever her name was, Alveera? Y/n didn’t care about what her name was. But she was everything Y/n wished she was. Taller, prettier, confident, thinner, strong, she was even a well established pirate. Y/n let out a choked cry, a tear slipping down her cheek.

What was he doing with her? Who was she? Y/n feared the worst, so avoided speaking to Buggy at all costs. When he ran over to hug her once he got all of his parts back, she didn’t return the embrace, she held in her tears and avoided looking at him, she just rushed back onto the ship and hid in the crows nest.

“Y/n!!!!” Buggy shouted gleefully, his heart full as he ran over to his girlfriend, wrapping his strong arms around her in a firm embrace, “Oh I missed you the most!! I missed the smell of your hair!!” He took a big whiff of the top of Y/n’s head, he then pulled back a bit to look down at her, hands holding her shoulders, “Did you see my moves back there? I did that all for you, baby!” Buggy grinned, feeling proud of himself as he remembered the way he effortlessly defeated that cannibal tribe trying to eat his crew..

Buggy’s eyes widened slightly when Y/n didn’t say a word. She pulled away and hurried off back onto the Big Top.

She didn’t even.. look at him. Not even a kiss on the cheek.

Y/n’s sudden cold shoulder left Buggy confused.. why was she so moody all of a sudden? He imagined she’d be the most ecstatic that he survived.

Right now, everybody was celebrating on the lower deck, happy that their beloved Captain was alive. However, Y/n felt like she was loosing her boyfriend as soon as she got him back, she much rather preferred the pain of Buggy dying over the pain of being replaced by somebody taller, older and more beautiful.

She wanted off of the boat, and out of Buggy’s life forever.

Y/n lifted her head when she suddenly heard footsteps from behind her. Buggy was there, he had been wondering why Y/n was ignoring him, why she wasn’t on her proper place on his lap while they were partying downstairs. “Hey.. What’s got you so down in the dumps? C’mon and join us! I can get Cabaji to make you one of those fruity drinks that you like!”

“I wanna go back to [hometown].” Y/n said quickly. Her words made Buggy raise his brows.

“Why? Do you need something?” He grunted as he stepped closer, Y/n turned her head away and looked back over the railing. Buggy was so cute, it felt like knives were being stabbed through her heart.

“I don’t wanna be here anymore.” Y/n choked out, “I wanna go home, I don’t wanna be with you anymore.” Tears rolled down Y/n’s cheeks as she spoke in a rushed tone, feeling her heart shatter.

Buggy’s eyes widened, “Huh- HUH?!” He yelled, feeling shocked, but at the same time he felt anger rise up inside of him; anger fueled by hurt, “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!”

“DON’T YELL AT ME, BUGGY!!” Y/n shouted back at Buggy, looking at him with teary eyes, tears rolling down her face. Buggy drew back, eyes wide as he looked at Y/n, “A-Ah-..” he tried to find what words to say after seeing her tears. He walked closer to her, “What’s wrong..?”

Y/n turned her head away, tears rolling down her cheeks, “I don’t wanna be with you anymore, Buggy.” She repeated.

“Was it something I said?! Is it because of my breath?!”

“No, Buggy.” Y/n choked, trembling. Buggy walked over to Y/n and tried to put his arm around her, she flinched and moved away immediately, she felt like she would die if Buggy touched her. Y/n hugged herself, squeezing her eyes shut tightly to prevent more tears from slipping. Buggy struggled to find the right words to say, “Y/n- I can’t-… I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong..!” Buggy let out a forced, strained chuckle under his breath, feeling his heart wrench inside of him, “Please, talk to me baby.” Buggy reached out to try and put a hand on Y/n’s waist, to which she moved away again.

Y/n didn’t want Buggy to touch her.. she didn’t want him to touch her knowing that he was probably going to be touching that other woman the same way he always touched her.. the simple thought of that made Y/n choke into a sob.

“Just take me home, Buggy.” Y/n breathed out through her sobs.

“WHY?!” Buggy growled, his voice cracking subtly, “Are you saying you want to break up with me?! What did I do?! Why won’t you let me touch you?! Y/n, please-!!”

“Why did you bring that woman here?! Who is she?! Why was she with you?!” Y/n turned to face Buggy completely, mascara running down her cheeks. Buggy was sweating, despite the cold night breeze. He then chuckled softly, letting out a relieved breath, “Aww, baby. Don’t get so worked up about her. She saved my life! And we are after the same person so.. I kind of owe her an alliance.”

Y/n shook her head, no.. no she couldn’t believe that. That woman was beautiful, there was no way Buggy wasn’t cheating on her, or planning to cheat. Even if he wasn’t planning on it, it would happen eventually; Buggy falling for that lady was inevitable and Y/n didn’t want to stick around to see that happen, “Do you think I’m stupid? Why would you lie to me?!” She cried out.

Buggy furrowed his brows, “Wha- I’M NOT LYING!! Why do you think I’m lying to you?!”

“Because she’s gorgeous!! Do you expect me to believe that you bringing her here is just some ‘alliance’?!” Y/n wiped her tears just to make way for more, “At least break up with me before you decide to bring another girl on board!!”

“IT WOULDN’T MAKE ANY DIFFERENCE IF SHE WAS A MAN!!” Buggy shouted, growling, he was angry.. he wasn’t going to let Y/n leave him over something as stupid as this.. “What did you expect me to do?! Let myself die because she’s a conventionally attractive woman?! Did you want me to be like ‘Oh sorry ma’am, even though I’m stranded in the middle of the sea with just my head, hands and feet, I can’t let you save me because my girlfriend is insecure! Please leave me to die!’”

“I’M NOT INSECURE!!” Y/n shouted, bawling yet again, she turned away and leaned over the side of the railing, letting her tears fall into the ocean.

“YOU’RE BEING INSECURE RIGHT NOW!! WHEN YOU DON’T EVEN HAVE ANYTHING TO BE INSECURE ABOUT!!” Buggy yelled back at Y/n, his tone making her cry even more.

He’s yelling at me.. he called me insecure. Does he really think I’m insecure? Maybe that’s why.. that lady is so confident, she always talks about how perfect she is, how beautiful she is. Y/n gripped the railing, She could take anybody’s man and not feel sorry at all because she’s too perfect to be bothered.

“You’re overreacting, babe! Come downstairs! Just- give it a chance? I promise this situation is not as bad as you think.”

“I wanna go home, Buggy.” Y/n croaked, sniffling and crying. She felt worthless, defeated, unloveable. Her heart was shattered into a million pieces. How could she ever hold a dime to that other woman? Why was this happening to her? Why didn’t Buggy love her anymore?

Y/n cried some more, feeling absolutely shattered. Buggy stood there with his mouth open, his chest felt tight, it felt like it was on fire.. “Y/n.. Y/n, I-..” he swallowed, clenching his jaw to keep himself from crying, “Ok. I’ll tell the navigator.” He spoke quietly, his voice husky and heartbroken.

Buggy’s bed was cold that night, Y/n wasn’t there with him. His heart hurt, he felt alone as he gripped the bottle of booze in his hand. He growled and slapped a hand over his eyes, “Dammit.” He hissed quietly, his breath was hot and whisky flavored. His long blue hair was sprawled out around him. He sighed, taking his hand away to look out of the window. Maybe Y/n just needs some rest.. I’ll talk to her about this in the morning, she’s just not thinking straight, that’s all. His jaw was clenched tightly, it was kind of painful, Y/n can’t just.. leave me. She can’t leave, she won’t.. I’ll talk to her it’ll be fine.

“C’MON BABY!!” Buggy screamed up at Y/n, who was hiding out in the crows nest, “YOU’RE STILL UPSET?! Please just come down and talk to me!!”

Y/n was curled up, miserable and still crying. She had slept in the crow’s nest all night. She figured that Buggy could’ve just gotten that woman to sleep with him instead, for all she knew was that Buggy completely replaced her in his heart and that he was just trying to reason with her so he wouldn’t hurt her feelings.

But Y/n was already hurting, she was hurting so much. They were already on route to head back to her home town, it wouldn’t be long before Y/n could leave and Buggy could be happy with Alvida.. completely forgetting about Y/n.

Buggy growled, beginning to get frustrated, he stomped his foot and crossed his arms, “Y/N!! As your boyfriend, I DEMAND that you come down THIS INSTANT and talk to me!!!” He yelled in a commanding, booming tone. Y/n still didn’t budge.

“OH COME ON!! AT LEAST SAY SOMETHING!!!”

“FINE!! Be that way!!” Buggy grumbled and stomped off back to his quarters, his long blue hair that came out the sides of his hat swished gracefully as he turned. He was probably going to get his 5th drink of the morning.

Buggy had his arms wrapped around Y/n from behind as she stood on the dock, “Please baby..” he sobbed, holding her tightly, “Please, please.. please don’t leave. Don’t do this to me baby.” His voice cracked, he had never cried this hard before. Actually.. he never cried like this— at all. He didn’t care that all of his crew members were leaning over the side of the boat, looking at the soap opera that was happening below them.

Buggy thought that they could work this out, that he could’ve spoken to her at least, he didn’t think she was serious when she spoke about leaving, he didn’t even know what would happen if he let her leave; what was he going to do?! Who was going to sit on his lap?! Who was going to nag him about how many drinks he had in one hour, or complain about how messy the room was?! “Baby please, baby.. baby.” He repeated, saying “baby” as if it was a magic word, a prayer that would make Y/n stay. Hot tears rolled down his cheeks, smearing his makeup, “Please don’t do this to me!! Don’t leave me..” he sounded desperate, he felt sick to his stomach both from the heartache, and how much he had been drinking earlier.

Buggy’s tight hold on her, combined with his begs and pleads being muffled into her shoulder made Y/n’s eyes water, her heart was being torn apart, why was he doing this?! She knew that he wanted the other woman, why was he doing this to her?! Was this a sick, twisted joke? Was he taunting her? “Buggy.. please let go of me..” Y/n said as she tried to walk back into town, but Buggy clung onto her like a vice grip.

“I don’t want to!!! Y/n!!” Buggy sobbed.

Y/n bit her bottom lip, a tear slipped down her cheek, If I stay.. he’ll leave me. She kept telling herself, I’ll be so alone, I’ll have to watch her take my place. More tears spilled from Y/n’s eyes, “Buggy, please stop.” She whispered as if Buggy had seriously injured her, like she was in physical pain.

Y/n took another step forward and made Buggy fall to his knees, he wrapped his arms around her legs and cried harder, “Y/N DON’T DO THIS TO ME!!” He sobbed heavily, “WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?!” She had never heard this kind of tone from him.. he was sobbing, completely broken.

Y/n slipped out from Buggy’s arms, tears beginning to fall down her cheeks yet again, “Buggy, stop. Buggy please stop, I have to go Buggy, I can’t stay.” Y/n shook her head, crying and refusing to look at Buggy as he got on all fours.

He cried hard, praying to whoever would listen to please don’t let Y/n leave. Don’t take Y/n away from him over something so stupid.

Buggy screamed as Y/n began running away, “Y/N!!!!!” He didn’t have the strength to move, he felt so sick— he didn’t feel like this before, he felt queasy, his head was pounding. None of this felt real, Buggy didn’t want to comprehend what was happening, “Y/N!!!! DON’T LEAVE ME!!!! YOU BITCH!!” He shouted, instantly regretting that. It made it heart hurt even more.

“BABY!! PLEASE COME BACK!! COME BACK!!”

Cabaji hopped down onto the dock and kneeled down beside Buggy, placing a hand on his back, “Just- give her time, captain..”

Buggy’s head hung low, droplets of tears fell onto the wood underneath him, “What am I going to do?!”

[the-obnoxious-sibling]

op ep 1116 thoughts

tl;dr, there were some choices made re: pacing and blocking that i disagree with, but there was also some new material added that i am very into.

cons

went too fast. for an episode named for buggy’s declaration the balance of time fell way more on sabo et al

the ‘roger patting shanks on the head’ moment has young, beanie-wearing buggy in the manga, why redraw it with this teenaged, black kerchief buggy look?! :/ i wanna feel the weight of years of buggy feeling inferior in this moment

the blocking is so weird. why start the conversation with the two of them so far apart and add a beat of shanks walking closer to ask buggy to come with him? what does that serve? it’s awkward, makes almost no sense—why is buggy trying to talk about this at such a distance?—and barely adds at all to the runtime of the episode. if you wanted to draw out the scene, there were better ways to do it

and then, instead of using the wide shot when buggy turns to run, letting them look small and isolated while they’re separating, you zoom in tight on buggy’s face? and cut super quick from that face to present day buggy? if you want to draw out this scene, do it by extending this running sequence! start out with the wide shot of buggy running away from shanks in the rain, take a few beats of that before getting up in teen buggy’s face, then transition from his face to present day buggy’s

why bother having buggy’s hands pinned on hooks if they can come free that easily and painlessly? he picks up the snailphone no problem like ten seconds after his hands get knocked off the hooks

tbh i don’t like him having use of his hands in this scene at all, the desperation of buggy’s head rolling over to the phone in the manga hits way harder (and makes crochawk’s inability to stop him feel more plausible, here they literally watch him pick up the phone and do nothing about it)

pros

big top blaster my beloved 💜 she’s such a brightly colored disaster, i love her. wish the reveal trip to see her had been drawn out even longer, tbh

“this isn’t how i wanted my life to turn out… how’d it come to this…” → sepia-toned flashback of rejecting shanks?! i am. ill.

adding roger pirates flashback material as buggy starts to monologue at crocodile and mihawk? *chef’s kiss*

especially buggy saying “we weren’t able to go to laugh tale for some reason” while we see images of sick buggy and ‘we’ll go there on our own ship’ shanks………

“i’m disappointed in you, shanks” and flipping from teen buggy to present day buggy for a second… just for an eye twitch… ohhh, that’s nice

the hand slap!?! not just a fist raised in denial of shanks’ request but literally slapping it away??? excuse me?!?

instead of having shanks voice the “?!” response to buggy calling him a coward, we get a gulp? shanks retreating back into himself? which fits more with shanks standing there watching buggy leave than a confused or outraged sound would have, imo

[beanghostprincess]

Silly goofy wild and funky idea:

Transman Crocodile who transitioned via Ivankov.

Cross Guild events and Cross Guild Poly where Buggy finally gets the nerve to come out to her two lieutenants and also boyfriends. Mihawk just blinks like "yes? Your Haki is distinctly feminine, so this makes perfect sense. Oh, dear why are you crying, stop that-" meanwhile Crocodile has to bite back every single we traded genders joke and instead just shrugs, going "I quite literally could not be paid to give a fuck. You know I'm bisexual, this changes little, Clown."

Croc does off hand offer to hook Buggy up with Iva if that's smth she's interested in, tho.

Meanwhile Sanji has come out to the Strawhats as a transwoman as well, and the reactions are much more dramatic but no less supportive - if anything, some may be too supportive /hj ((Franky calls her queen and sis and Hawt Mama, Chopper already began working on ways to synthesize estrogen Just In Case, Luffy could not be made to give a single fuck, Ussop is swooning, Zoro informs her that this changes nothing and he'll still kick her ass, Robin offers her congratulations, Nami is already mathing out adding another bed in the girls' room or making a room JUST for Sanji and Ussop to share, Brooke waits 0.006783259 seconds before asking to see undies, just everyone being supportive and stupid))

This leads to Ivankov getting two separate contacts for their services, and so they arrange to meet at a small-ish island to help both, two birds, one stone :)).

Both crews go full Spiderman meme when they come across each other, and Iva handles it with all the gentility of a bull in a china shop, whisking both ladies away while the rest are left just plain gaping and awkwardly avoiding eye contact or completely oblivious to the tension (cough cough LUFFY).

Insert your own silly ideas here, generally.

But when they come back, Mihawk, Crocodile and Ussop are all just absolutely SWOONING for different reasons, full of Respect Woman Juice and I Love My Wife energy, it's adorable and cute and funny.

((Bonus: Luffy calls Buggy auntie without hesitation, and she almost cries even as she punches him over the head))

THIS IS SO CUTE SELJKFNSFLEFNLNDFDLKNSDLK

Okay, so, my thoughts on this. Crocodile having to hold back the 'we traded genders' joke is so damn real and I laughed SO hard. Love him. So true. And transfem Buggy lives in my mind rent free so this is just perfect because I absolutely love her. She's my beloved. She'd be so anxious about it and cry and Mihawk and Crocodile are like-- So done with her because she's acting stupid and dramatic and of course they're going to still want her. And she's crying and they're rolling their eyes and patting her head at the same time. Poor thing. She needs comfort okay??

And,, Transfem Sanji coming out is always so beautiful in my head. She's been battling her gender issues for AGES and now she feels comfortable enough to come out to the crew. She's anxious but she knows she has to do this now or she never will. And it's-- It's so real to me. The way she would explain everything that happened to her back in Momoiro Island and then say that she's actually a girl. And everyone's quiet because they know she's looking at Luffy only right now, expecting an answer from her captain. And Luffy is just like "??? Okay? You're still my cook. So who cares? You seem happier now!" and that is when Sanji starts crying. Because of course she's crying. And of course, Usopp is the one to hug her first because that's his girlfriend and she needs a hug and forehead kisses right now. But they have 0 privacy because Luffy wants hugs too. I mean. Obviously.

Franky is loud af and he's SOBBING while he screams how proud he is of their cook (I've always said Franky feels like a girldad because just look at how he interacts with Nami. And he's sooooooooo loving Sanji right now). Robin would be so so proud too and would say she's happy for her and smile in the sweetest of ways (Robin please adopt me). I think Chopper would also ask a lot of questions before making estrogen, just in case, but then he'd go and try to make it right away. Nami hugs Sanji but the sweet moment doesn't last long because she's already telling Franky her ideas for a bigger, better room for the girls or!!! "Better!!!!!! A room for Sanji and Usopp so we don't have to deal with them!!!!!! But also make the girl's room bigger because I say so!!!!!!". Zoro says he doesn't give a fuck because he will still kick her ass but he's secretly happy that she looks more relaxed and comfortable in her skin. Brook is Brook and he says his Brook thing about panties but I think Sanji would kick him having the best gender affirmation moment of her fucking life. And Jinbe is just the cutest because I think he'd laugh at the chaotically sweet situation and say that strength comes from being happy with yourself and Sanji is the strongest for being so brave and true to herself (he be saying poetic and cute shit like that and he expects me not to absolutely love him. Dad behavior. I am SO sure he would beat the shit out of anybody who misgendered Sanji. But that's what any Strawhat would do, so,,,).

They go see Iva (Iva my beloved) and they're all,, So uncomfortable,, Buggy acts overconfident and says she's perfectly fine and not scared at all of what Iva's going to do to her body (liar. She's scared af and Crocodile and Mihawk know so they keep scaring her even more because it's funny to see their girlfriend crying. Look. The fact that they're soft and dating doesn't mean they're not gonna bully her). And Sanji has smoked like two fucking boxes of cigarettes already despite saying that she doesn't care about it (she has never been more excited in her entire life) and she's holding Usopp's hand so hard she's going to break it at some point. Anyway, Iva is a dramatic bitch and they make Sanji and Buggy come with them to a more private place because they want it to be a surprise for everyone (drama queen. Love them. I would do it too. Trust the process, girls, you're in good hands). So Cross Guild and the Strawhats end up alone and waiting for their girls to come back. And. Yeah. Uncomfortable. Zoro looks at Mihawk at some point and goes:

Zoro: I thought you were gay. Mihawk: I swing both ways. Usopp: Actually, you swing sword- Mihawk: Awful. Shut up. Don't ever speak to me again. Don't even look at my direction, actually. Roronoa, why is your crew like this? Zoro: It was really funny, though. Mihawk: I wish to not partake in this conversation anymore. Everyone just shut up and wait. ............. Luffy: Hey, guys, do you think Sanji's going to have bigger boobs than Zor- Nami: OH MY GOD LUFFY YOU CAN'T SAY THAT Luffy: BUT I'M CURIOUS Zoro: Yeah, she's going to ask for the biggest of boobs only to piss me off because she's annoying like that. Mihawk: Why would you even care about your breast size, Roronoa? Crocodile: Tsk. You care about mine. Usopp: OH MY GOD SJKFNSKDEWKFJNJKSFN

Okay, so Sanji and Buggy eventually come back. Finally. And they were gorgeous before but now they're even more beautiful because they actually look extremely happy with their bodies. I want to describe how I see them but just check @/vongulli's account and see their fem Buggy because she kills me every time and that's the only way I can see fem Buggy now. And Sanji to me looks like @/sibmakesart's fem Sanji. This artist made a nude fem Sanji not long ago and I loved it,, So much,, ANYWAY!!!!!! Getting carried away.. Thinking about women. It's not my fault I'm a lesbian. But they look perfect and they're comfortable and happy. And Sanji's boobs are surprisingly not huge and Zoro makes a comment about that but Sanji is like:

Sanji: WHAT????? YOU ONLY SEE ME AS A BOOB-OBSESSED GIRL OR WHAT? Literally everyone at the same time: Yes. Sanji: Well, for your information- Usopp: She likes thighs more Sanji: Usopp, don't tell them- Iva: And also, my dears, that is not how my power works Zoro: So you did ask for big boobs and you couldn't have them Sanji: I'm going to kill you and wearing heels it's going to hurt even more Usopp: Is it weird that I'm kind of turned on right now? Nami: ...Haha Usopp: Are you okay? Nami: Hey, Usopp, I- Usopp: You can't fuck her Nami: I swear I can't have anything!!! What do you have against lesbians??? Usopp: YOU WANT TO SLEEP WITH MY GIRLFRIEND WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY??? Nami: I dunno, yes??

Crocodile and Mihawk are having... A moment. They will still bully her and they're sure she's going to look extremely pretty crying and whining but right now she deserves to be worshipped because just look at her. Buggy approaches them and she's like "If you laugh I'm going to throw knives at you and then leave Cross Guild and!! And!! And I'm going to be really mad so pleasedon'tlaughireallylikethispleasedon'truinit" and they look at her with the fondest of looks (but gotta be honest, they're so horny right now it's unbearable. Like yes, happy wife happy home happy everything but also happy dick because just look at her). Crocodile is just frowning and genuinely asks "Why would we laugh? You look stunning, dear" and Mihawk follows with "I must say I'm not surprised, since you've always looked beautiful. But you look... More satisfied with yourself." And Buggy has to hold back the tears and that's why she starts saying things like "Pffft. Yeah! I knew I'd be gorgeous like this too! Now I look even flashier!" and y'know, the two men are letting her have her moment because now she looks even better and they can't stop staring at her. So maybe she's right this time when she fakes confidence.

Usopp and Nami need a second to process everything, I think. Also, they both hit Brook at the same time when he's about to ask Sanji the question™. Nami is having a lesbian moment, but of course Sanji realizes and does her Sanji thing like opening her mouth and speaking:

Sanji: Nami-swaaan!!! Do you like how I look now??? Nami, ignoring her and whispering to herself: Disgusting. I hate this. Zoro: At the end of the day it's just curly, huh? Nami: I was thinking with my dick. Zoro: Yeah. Happens. Been there.

So, Usopp and Sanji finally get their moment together because at least the Strawhats are respectful enough to give them their sweet uhhhh two minutes before they start complimenting Sanji. So that's something! Sanji is confident with her body but is a bit shy and isn't sure what Usopp will think about this. Not that she has changed much, even, but, you know. Just different. In a good way for her! But different. And Usopp approaches her slowly and smiling and he's just so so so happy. And he's like "You look gorgeous!" / "... Really? I wasn't sure whether you'd like it-" / "I will always like you! But more importantly, do you like you?" / "I mean- Weird phrasing, but yes. Yes? I think so. Yes." / "Then that's all that matters." And Sanji really, really doesn't want to cry because she has never cried in front of the whole crew. She just can't help it. But Usopp knows she doesn't like it when others see her cry so he quickly wipes her tears away and when she starts laughing (so so happy and full of love) Usopp just needs to kiss her.

Meanwhile, Luffy is there calling Buggy auntie and asking when she's going to tell Shanks about this. She keeps saying she will never tell him and if he wants to find out, he'll do it through her new wanted poster or whatever, but not from her.

[wordy-little-witch]

Okay CoraBug hours where we look at canon, go HAH No, and carry on bc I Do Not See It

Buggy and Cora being absolutely the schmooziest, goofiest couple ever.

Cora and Buggy experimenting with makeup looks together.

They each have an Egg Each, but they have each other's eggs, or they both make two each so one can have the second egg on hand for long distance stints.

Long denden calls and writing letters to each other.

Sengoku having several attacks of just as many varieties because his son is dating a pirate and it's THAT pirate as well and he's So Fucking Angry bc Buggy isn't even all that bad, he HATES it-

Uncle Garp. The shenanigans there. Need I say more?

Shanks telling Buggy about Luffy and it goes "my brother adopted the grandson of my boyfriend's honorary uncle" and you can see the smoke coming from his ears.

Cora and Buggy were childhood sweethearts, and Shanks ABSOLUTELY gave Cora a shovel talk. Roger also gave Cora a shovel talk. Rayleigh played psychological warfare as a test (Cora passed).

They do shows together and their favorites are acrobatics and aerials.

Buggy has forbade Cora from fire stunts, so Cora simply watches Buggy do them and drools respectfully. (In his defense, Buggy is VERY skilled with batons and dragon staffs.)

Devil Fruits have something they need to Feed or things that Feed the fruits. For some, it's foods, some it can be abated with tobacco. Cora uses his cigarettes and Buggy runs on sugar.

Cora is actually a very clean person and prefers unscented soaps, he just has a skill for always looking freshly mugged in an alleyway. Buggy meanwhile is a neat freak who changes up his soaps frequently, but always within a certain brand/maker rotation bc he has sensitive skin.

Drawbacks Of Devil Fruits My Beloved - they're both more lethargic in highly humid weather, or in the rain. Cora's sleepier overall when stuff gets to that point, but Buggy runs a higher risk of getting sick as a result.

Buggy sometimes has Bad Brain Days, be it an episode or he's overstimulated. Regardless, when he needs Space, he'll shimmy under Cora's feathered coat and Cora will cast a bubble for them with just enough muted input to calm Buggy down but not trigger his intrusive thoughts.

Likewise, when Cora is in Cover And Perform Mode, Buggy will gently lead him away and pull the other down to his chest, ear over his heart, and will just... talk. Random, unimportant things like "Oh I heard dinner will be this tonight" or "I've been thinking of getting x, y, z tools for the ring". Just stuff to ground him, she he isn't alone, that things are okay and fine and safe.

They have prank wars. Ritchie always wins. Nobody knows how.

Cora will straight up scruff Buggy like a cat when he gets angry and stabby.

Buggy will climb Cora like a tree when he feels playful.

<><><><> Bonus Incorrect Quotes <><><><>

Buggy: They call it committing murder because it's a commitment. It's stronger than marriage.

Cora:

Buggy:

Cora: babe, no-

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Cora: I could kill you if I wanted.

Buggy: Yeah? So could any other human being. So could a dog. So could a dedicated duck. You aren't special

Cora:

Buggy:

Cora: I love you-

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Buggy: *banging a pen on the table out of frustration*

Cora: Stop that. How would YOU feel if I banged you on the table?

Buggy: I—

Buggy: I don’t know the correct answer to that question.

Cabaji, who just wanted to eat his lunch in peace:

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Buggy: BE A BETTER PERSON!

Cora: WHY?!

Buggy: BECAUSE SOMEONE NEEDS TO HAVE MORALS IN THIS RELATIONSHIP, AND IT SURE AS FUCK AIN'T GONNA BE ME, SWEETHEART!

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Cora: *sighs*

Buggy: You bored?

Cora: Yeah.

Buggy: Wanna start drama for no reason?

Cora: I thought you’d never ask.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Cora: I truly go into housewife mode when I'm someone's soulmate- like, I'll make you pancakes and bacon every morning.

Buggy: This is a lie.

Buggy: I'm literally dating them. This is a lie.

Buggy: THEY DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW TO COOK A PANCAKE, WHAT IS THIS.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Buggy: What’s your favorite color?

Cora: Stop asking stupid questions. Ask me something logical and mature.

Buggy: How many moles of sodium bicarbonate are needed to neutralize 0.8ml of sulfuric acid at STP?

Cora: My favorite color is pink.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Context: Roger and Garp having a play date, Shanks and Mihawk are sitting to the side while Buggy is doing smth mundane across the beach when Cora descends on the swordmen

Cora: Wait, what's going on? Are we all talking about how hot Buggy is? Because Buggy is a straight up sexual fox riding a red-hot nuclear bombshell right toward the yowza plaza in the heart of Babe City, Assachusetts, U S A. The last A just stands for more ass.

Mihawk:

Shanks:

Cora:

Mihawk: wh-

Shanks: YEAH!

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Buggy: I'm very scary.

Cora: You're about as scary as a wet kitten.

Buggy: Wet kittens are cute, at least I've got that going for me.

Cora: And small.

Buggy:

Buggy: ...Yeah, yeah. I guess.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Buggy: Live fast, die young, leave behind a pretty corpse! That’s what I always say!

Cora: You should say something else.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Cora: What’s your body count?

Buggy: Do you mean sex or murder?

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Cora, carrying a box: What would you say if- if I, hypothetically, came home with several kids one day?

Buggy: …

Buggy: What’s in the box?

Cora: What woul-

Buggy: Cora, what’s in the box?

Cora: I think you know.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Buggy: Hey, wanna take a shower with me?

Cora: I have a gun in that nightstand beside the bed. If I ever say no to that question, I want you to take it out and shot me because I’ve obviously gone crazy.

[lostfirefly]

Today, my love, all I want, I wanna sing for you, yeah, I'll sing for you, baby! Happy birthday to you!

This fic was written back in June and finalized yesterday) But I couldn't leave Buggy without a gift) English is not my native language, errors may occur. As always, feel free to share your thoughts :)

Masterlist is here

Description: Happy birthday to our future king of the pirates! Catherine throws him a party.

Warnings: SFW + NSFW (my first attempt to describe oral part), MDNI. Let's pray for Catherine)

Words: 6435 (sorry)

Buggy x OC from my “You’ve Got the Same Dream as Me” series.

Taglist: @gingernut1314, @operationroots, @hey-august, @yujo-nishimura, @emmiebugz-blog, @mydearlybeloathed , @cyberkittenduck , @buggy-samaaa , @thoraeth

The title is taken from "Happy Birthday" by Kygo feat John Legend.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

/sound of a party whistle/

Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack.

“What’s this?” Buggy barely mumbled into the pillow. 

/sound of a party whistle/

“Shit! My ears!” Buggy covered his ears with his hands.

“Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!!” 

“Cotton candy, I’m sleeping!!” Buggy waved Catherine away.

“Get up! Get up! Get up!!” She happily nudged him in the shoulder.

“What the fuck, woman?! It's 9 in the morning!” Buggy rolled over onto his back and barely opened his eyes. He saw Catherine sitting on her knees on the bed, wearing a plush party birthday cake hat. “And again. What the fuck?”

Catherine blew a party whistle again. “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BUGGY BEAR!!” Smack. Smack. Smack. “Love you, my old.” Smack. “Grumpy.” Smack. “Beloved.” Smack. “Clown.” Smack. Smack. 

“Little shit! I’m not old! And not grumpy!!” 

“Yes, you are!” Smack. Smack. Smack. “Wait here!” She ran out of the bedroom.

“Fu-u-ck!! I’m sleeping, woman!!!” 

“I made you a birthday breakfast!” Catherine returned to the room with a tray holding a large plate of pancakes, generously drizzled with chocolate, maple, and pecan syrup. And next to it was his favorite beer. 

“Geeez! I haven't had time to wake up yet.” Buggy rubbed his face. “What time did you get up? How did you get up? If you know what I mean.” He giggled idiotically.

“I always know what you mean, pervert.” Catherine slapped him on his head. “Well, it was hard to get out of your tentacles, Buggy the Octopus, but I did it. Every time I tried to move, you growled and pulled me even closer. But it's your birthday. Moreover! It's your first birthday with me! I wanted to make you your favorite breakfast. 36 pancakes just for you!! Can you imagine?! One pancake for every year of your grumpiness.” Smack. Smack. Smack. “Oh, wait, wait! I have another present! Close your eyes.” Catherine jumped out of bed and ran to the closet.

“Fuck, cotton candy, you're moving too fast! It's 9 am, for god's sake!!”

“See? You're grumpy! Please, close your beautiful eyes!! I have a present for you.” Catherine made a pleading face.

“Will you be naked?” Buggy opened his beer and looked at her with the hope in his eyes. 

“Tell me, asshole,” Catherine crossed her arms, “why do you always want to see me naked?” 

“Have you seen yourself naked? Imagine this picture and tell me how I can not like it?” He took a sip. “Fuck, perfect.”

“Pervert.” Catherine rolled her eyes. “Are you going to close your eyes or not?”

“Fine! But I still hope to see you without your clothes.” 

“Shush, clown! Don't peek!” Catherine was rummaging around in the closet. “Wait, wait! Ready? Nod if you closed your eyes. Now tell me, did you nod?”

“Yes!”

“And now you can open your green eyes!” 

Buggy opened his eyes and looked around. “Where are you, cotton candy?” 

“I’m here!” Catherine first showed one leg from behind the door, and then hid it.

“Oh, my God. Please tell me that's what I think it is!!!” Buggy rubbed his hands. 

“I don't know what you're thinking about, jerk!” Catherine poked her head out from behind the door. “Hi!, birthday boy!” 

“Hi!” 

“Wait, wait!” Catherine showed one leg from behind the door again, then the other, she stood facing Buggy. “Ready? One, two, three!” She turned her back to him and shook her buttocks. “Like it?”

“What the fuck? What is this?” Buggy stared at her pajama pants.

“This's your present!!” 

“But… I see…”

“Yes! These are your hands in your circus white gloves, and this’s my ass. And you're grabbing my ass.” Catherine shook her butt again. “Like it?”

Buggy laughed loudly, “Hell, yeah! Come to me, I want to take a closer look.”

Catherine took a couple of steps back, shaking her butt again. 

“My perfect hands on your perfect ass!” Buggy gently ran his hand down her thigh.

Catherine slapped him, sat on the bed and started stroking his hair. “Happy birthday, my blue-haired love!” Smack. Smack. “I’m so happy I have you!”

“Thanks.” Buggy took a sip. “Your pants are my favorite gift now.”

“I knew you would like it!” Smack. Smack. “Now eat your pancakes!”

Buggy stuck his fork into the pancakes and took a bite.

“Tasty?” Catherine started stroking his hair, watching him nod, and noticed the way Buggy looked at her. “Why are you staring at me like you love me, clown?” 

Buggy chewed a pancake and looked into her eyes. “Cathie-pie.” He swallowed and took her hand. “Will you ma–  make me some coffee?”

“Sure!! Wait here!” Smack. Smack. “Large black coffee with three spoons of sugar. I remember.” Catherine quickly ran to the kitchen. 

“Idiot!!” Buggy grabbed his head. “Don't ask anything. She'll say no anyway.” He took the fork and exhaled. “Fuck! Fuck!” 

“I’m coming back!.” Catherine came into the bedroom, holding the cup and with a wide smile on her face. “I hope you mis–..” She looked at Buggy's sad face. “Why are you sad? Didn't you like the gift? Or the pancakes?” 

“No, I’m fine. Your gift is amazing. It's just.. Just.. No one has ever baked me birthday pancakes.” Buggy tried to smile.

“Oh, my love!” Catherine put the coffee on the table and hugged him around the neck. “Now you have me! And now you will have birthday food every year. Oh! I almost forgot!” She ran to the closet and pulled out a plush crown. “This is for you! You can't eat birthday pancakes without a birthday hat!” She sat down on the bed and put the crown on his head. “My dear Buggy Bear. I crown you on and name you king of my heart.” She hugged him tightly. “I’m so happy I took those tickets and met you.”

“Damn!” Buggy trying hard not to blush. “Can you at least not call me by this stupid nickname on my birthday? Let me eat my pancakes, woman!” He settled himself more comfortably, lifted the blanket and winked at Catherine. She narrowed her eyes in delight and squealed as she crawled under the blanket.

“What are our plans for today?” Buggy ate one pancake and took a sip.

“Actually, we have an extensive program today, but I thought you were going to go drink at Arlong's like usual. Today is Wednesday.” Catherine snuggled under his arm. 

“Meh, I’ll go there tomorrow.” Buggy ate the last pancake, put the tray aside, and snuggled closer to Catherine. 

She immediately hugged him tighter. "What's wrong, my little bear?" 

“Can we lie like this for a while?” 

“Of course! Is something bothering you?”

“No. Just wondering how I got you.” Buggy giggled. “You see, the charm of a loser worked, and I won you over!”

“Dear god!” Catherine rolled her eyes. “There was no charm, Buggy!! You pissed me off and wanted to leave me in the desert!”

“But I didn't leave you!”

“I have one more present for you. Do you want to know when I fell in love with you? Remember the first time you saved me? I then thought, “he protected me?”. You were so brave, and I thought you were okay. Seriously, you didn't have to protect me. Then we sat around the campfire and you seemed less annoying to me. And then you saved me again, and I thought 'gosh, his hands are so warm'. And then you came back for me when I was dangling over the precipice. You could have run away, betrayed me. But you came back. And then when that cave collapsed, I was afraid I'd never see you again. And then you took me home, and I kept thinking, “Why doesn't he say that he loves me?”. And do you remember, the three of us were sitting in the living room, eating pizza and telling my sister how we met? You hugged me back then. I don't know if it was by chance or not. And then you suddenly pulled your hand away. And I realized, “Damn, I love him!”

“If I hadn't saved you,” Buggy took her hand and kissed it. “how would we have gotten to the treasure?”

“So you only saved me for the gold, bastard? I'm glad we chatted around the fire then. You know, I think you fell in love with me before the pancake morning. You just didn't realize it was love. Okay! Enough romance for the morning,” Catherine clapped her hands, “let's go celebrate your birthday! 

To begin with, Catherine took Buggy around the streets, looking in all his favorite places, as if it were a bar or a regular eatery. They had a little picnic by the sea. Catherine laughed and squealed, running from the water to the sand, occasionally noticing Buggy's sad look when he looked at the water. She tried her best to cheer him up, trying to do acrobatic routines, but she wasn't very good at it. Toward evening, she led the way to his awning. 

“What are we doing at my circus?” Buggy pointed at his tent. 

“Well,” Catherine shrugged, “you threw a party for me six months ago, now it's my turn. And since the circus now holds a special place in my life, I asked your crew to help me with the preparations.” She pecked him on his nose. “And forgive me, I lied to you a little for a few weeks when I said I was going out alone. I ran here to supervise everything. So welcome to the party named after the best clown in the world!”

Catherine dragged Buggy into the arena, which was filled with tables with hot dogs, pizza, and various alcoholic beverages. 

“What the hell?!” Buggy looked around. His entire crew was dressed in pirate costumes, a wide shroud hung from the dome to the floor. There were two anchors on the floor and there were dinghies with a couple of freaks sitting in them. The bar counter, behind which the bartender stood, was made in the style of a ship's nose and deck.

“Welcome to the pirate party!” Catherine happily spread her arms, inviting him to take a closer look. “See! Look, this is a mooring rope. Here is another rope.”

“This is a line, Cathie-pie.” Buggy tried to hide his shocked state, looking around. 

“Exactly. And here is another one.” Catherine pointed at the rope, “I forgot the name of this thing.”  

“Guess-warp.” Buggy said quietly. 

“Yes!” Catherine looked at him with rounded eyes. “Wow, I didn't know you were into this.”

“Hey! I read books sometimes too.”

“Look,” Catherine wrapped her arm around his waist, “we have one big table that resembles the captain's cabin for everyone here. These small ones are shaped like the stern of a ship with a steering wheel if someone wants to sit alone or to chat with others. Some of your friends brought girls, see? They want to be like you. And do you see the two thrones by the big table? Those are our seats. You have to own your throne!” Catherine pointed with her eyes to his place.

Buggy walked around the arena, looking at everything around him. Every chair, every table, everything resembled a giant ship. He went up to the bar and gently ran his fingers along it. Catherine noticed his sad face. 

“You don't like it? You probably wanted a regular party. I'm so sorry. Do you want to go somewhere else?” 

“No. I really like it! But.. Why the pirate theme?” Buggy asked quietly, running his fingers over the barstool.   

“I don't know. You have the soul of an adventurer and a seeker of treasure.” Catherine pecked him on his cheek. “Oh! I have one more present for you. I'll be right back, okay? You have ten minutes to miss me.” 

Buggy saw how Catherine quickly went to his office, noticed Cabaji at the bar and hurried over to him, “Did you tell her something?”

“Happy birthday, Captain!” said with his mouth full, eating canapés  

“Yes, yes! I asked a question. Did you tell her something?” Buggy asked quietly. 

“No! I swear. Your girlfriend came here a few weeks ago, and offered to organize a party. She wandered around the arena for about an hour and suddenly said that it would be a pirate party. I told the entire crew not to give the slightest hint.”

“Damn! Okay!” Buggy knocked on the counter. “Hey, you, bartender, make me a whiskey and pour a glass of rosé wine for the girl.”

Catherine spun around in front of the mirror for a long time, examining herself from all sides. “My flashy fool's gonna like this.” She squealed and ran back. When Catherine returned to the arena, she hid behind one of the decorations for a moment to watch Buggy. He was basking in the attention of the entire team, actively gesturing and laughing. She straightened her shoulders, looked at herself again and ran towards him.

“Hey, birthday boy!” Catherine gently tapped Buggy on the shoulder. “I'm back!”

“I ordered yo~. Fuck me! Fuck me very much!” Buggy's jaw dropped when he looked at Catherine. She was in the beautiful mid-thigh dress with black lacing on the purple corset, featuring a form-fitting lace up black bodice that accentuates her curves. The off-shoulder design added a touch of the romance and the flowing bunched black skirt had a sexy asymmetrical hemline. 

“Wow! My chatterbox can't find words, I'm amazed. Like it? Do I look like the queen of the seven seas?” She twirled several times and watched him simply nod his head. Catherine laughed, reaching her hand up to his chin. “Close your mouth and tell me something!”

Buggy swallowed and drank his whiskey with one gulp. “Damn! You look so hot, Catherine Mitchell!” He immediately wrapped his arms around her waist and started to slide his other hand down her ass. 

“What are you doing?” Catherine slapped him on his hands. “There are people around. And Cabaji is still here.”

“What are you standing there for? Get out of here!" Buggy barked at Cabaji, who grabbed his beer and quickly ran away from the bar. “Just fuck. You look... Just fuck.”

“While you're looking for the right words, go change into your circus clothes, please.” Catherine wrapped her arms around his neck, tiptoed and pecked him in his lips. “Your vest and leather pants will go perfectly with our theme. Who knows, maybe I have a gift for you.”

“If the next gift isn't hot sex on my desk, I don't want to talk to you at all, woman.” 

“I'm not having sex with you while your friends are here. If you behave well, who knows. Maybe I'll lift the ban on your office for today.” Catherine gently ran her finger down his neck and winked. 

"I'm gonna change!"  Buggy pushed her away slightly and quickly disappeared into the dark corridor.

Catherine laughed loudly, picked up her wine, took a sip, sat on the bar and looked around the arena. “Perfect.” 

The crew's laughter, the clinking of glasses and toasts to the Captain could be heard throughout the arena. While she was waiting for Buggy, one of the crew members came up to her, began to thank her for the party and they started talking. When Buggy returned, the first thing he heard was Catherine’s ringing laughter, and then he saw how she was fluttering freak's hair.

“Hey, I'm back.” Buggy came closer, glanced at the freak, and put his hand on Catherine’s back. The freak swallowed, blushed and quickly ran away.

Catherine smiled and glanced at Buggy. “Wow! I love your circus outfit. You look so hot. And in this dress, I’m now mated with you. We are like a small pirate family today.” Catherine put her glass down and wrapped one arm around Buggy’s neck. “See. They're toasting you. They love you, not like I do, but they do.” She adjusted his bandana. “I’m so proud of you, my blue-haired love.” Catherine kissed Buggy on the cheek and glanced at the crew. “Hey, you bunch of bilge rats, Quick, raise your glasses in the name of your Captain!” She looked at Buggy, who glanced at her with raised eyebrows and laughed. “I've always wanted to say that.” Catherine proudly raised her head and stroked Buggy’s shoulder. “I love you. Oh, I have another gift for you. I'll be right back.” She kissed him on the lips, jumped off the counter and ran off somewhere.

Buggy was sipping his whiskey and chatting with his teammates. He liked to be bathed in attention. He was talking to Mohji when he heard the sounds of fiddling and Catherine's voice.

“Go faster!!” Catherine nudged the freak in the back. “Put this box on the keg!” The freak struggled to lift the big present box. 

“What’s this?” Buggy came closer to her, sipping whiskey.

"I've been thinking about what to get you for a long time. Then I thought, you're the captain of this circus. And the captain shouldn't walk without it! Open it!" Catherine took the glass from his hands and invited him to the box. 

“Okay.” Buggy opened the lid and frozen for a second, looking inside in surprise. “What the f~?” 

“Only the greatest captain should have a fur coat. I know it's a stupid gift, but I couldn't think of anything better.” Catherine watched as he slowly ran his fingers through the fabric. “Your face. You don't like it, do you?”

“No! I like it very much!” Buggy pulled the coat out of the box and slipped it over his shoulders. 

“And look how it suits you! It's a sandy color. You can cover me when I'm cold!” Catherine ran her hands over the sleeves and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Happy birthday, my mystery Buggy, who is worth a lot of money somewhere. I love you so, so much!”

Catherine shifter her gaze to the crew. “What are you all standing there for?” She clapped her hands. “Let's have some fun! Woohoo!”

Catherine’s ringing laughter, music, drunken toasts and dancing filled the entire tent. Mohji was dancing till he fell down, Cabaji was dancing with some girl.  

“Damn, she's so happy. And she did all this for me. She constantly makes sure everyone has drinks and is having fun. She laughs loudly. I love the way she wrinkles her nose when she laughs. She gets asked to еру dance. Not that I'm thrilled about it, but I kind of like it. look at her, clown.. And now she's dancing with... hey, watch the hands! My hands are the only ones allowed on her waist! Oh, she moved them herself. What was I talking about? Oh yeah... And I love how before and after she is invited to dance, she runs up and gives me kisses. What does she even see in me? She's alive and funny and real, and I w–”

“Hey, handsome! Why are you sad here?!” Catherine’s voice pulled Buggy out of his thoughts. She took the glass of whiskey from his hands, put it on the counter and took Buggy by the hands. “Let's go dance!” 

“I don't know. I'm a bad dancer, Cathie-pie.” 

“I don't care, this's my favorite song and I wanted to dance to it with you. Ple-e-ease!!” Catherine made sad cat eyes and watched as Buggy rolled his eyes in response, but nodded. Catherine clenched her fists and squealed happily, dragging him to the center of the arena. “See? We're under your favorite spotlights.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling his hands on her waist, and began to rock him from side to side to the music rhythm. “I don't know what kind of parties you've thrown before, but this one seems pretty good, huh?” 

Buggy exhaled and blushed. “This one's even better.”

Catherine narrowed her eyes and squealed. “I knew you loved me!” Smack. Smack. “Do you know how much I love you? Just li-i-ike tha-a-at!” She spread her arms wide and laughed. 

Buggy lifted her hand and Catherine twirled around her own axis. They swayed to the rhythm of the music, their bodies moving in perfect harmony as they danced under the spotlight. Catherine’s hair cascaded down her back like a sunset river, while Buggy's strong arms wrapped around her, holding her close as they spun and twirled in perfect sync. The music faded away, and they slowed to a stop, their chests heaving in unison as they gazed into each other's eyes. For a moment, they stood still, savoring the magic of the moment, the world around them melting away as they lost themselves in the depths of their love.

“Hi.” Catherine said quietly.

“Hi.” 

“I have another surprise!” Catherine cleared her throat and ran to the middle of the arena and, raising her hands to face level, she clapped theatrically. “Bring the surprise!!” 

Сabaji rolled out a large table with a huge black cake on it. Catherine clapped her hands again and the whole team began to sing “Happy Birthday.” Buggy burst out laughing and came closer to Catherine. 

“We rehearsed for a long time!” Catherine almost laughed until she cried, watching everyone blush with shame, singing a congratulatory song. “And this is your cake. We are having a pirate party, right? We have a pirate ship and we have our own captain. And what ship is without a flag. See! This is Jolly Roger. And he has your bones and your nose.” She whispered quietly. “I hope you don't take offense, because it won't be your flag without your lovely nose.”

When all the drunken guests had left, Catherine noticed that Buggy hasn't come back. He said he'd be gone for a while, and he didn't come back. She waved to the last guests leaving the tent and walked down the hallways, but Buggy wasn't there. 

Catherine knocked on his office. “Are you here? Can I come in?” She carefully opened the door, and saw how he immediately slammed the bottom drawer of his desk shut with a key. “I found you. What are you doing here alone? I miss you. You look sad. I think I did something wrong. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you.” 

“No, Cathie-pie, it's okay. How could you offend me?” Buggy exhaled.

“Are you sad because you're getting old?”

“Hey! I’m not old. Just... It's complicated, and I don't want to talk about it right now.” 

“Okay, we won't talk. We’re gonna drink! I brought whiskey and wine just for us.” Catherine moved closer to the table and hugged Buggy from behind. “Whatever happened to you in the past, I don't care. I'm glad that the past led you to Cairo. Because I met you. I love you so, so much!” Catherine sat down on the table, put her feet on his lap and took a sip straight from the bottle. “So, what are our plans next?” 

Buggy looked at Catherine for a moment and slowly ran his hand down her bare leg. “The dress is so sexy. I've been looking at you all evening, and it turns me on terribly.” 

“Everything turns you on, asshole, even if I'm walking around the house in that shark pajama you got me.”

“Shut up, please.” Buggy ran his lips over her legs, leaving a thin trail of lipstick on her skin. 

“What are you doing? Stop!” Catherine tried to gently push him away. “Stop it. Not here. Please..” Catherine's breathing quickened. “Damn you, clown. Just imagine. Everyone saw me in this dress. Your whole crew was staring at me, can you believe it?” She reached out, pulled his bandana off, and Buggy’s hair fell about the back and shone like a cascade of water. “The who-o-ole crew.” 

Buggy abruptly motioned her over to him, kicked a chair and stood up, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Stop it!” 

“You know, I'm willing to bet money that you were pissed off that your freaks were dancing with me, looking at me. At my bare legs, my bare shoulders. You do realize that I'm not wearing a bra right now, right?”

Buggy stood between Catherine’s legs, and she felt his hand come up to cradle her jaw, forcing her to look at him. “I said stop it!” 

Catherine immediately wrapped her legs around him and ran her hand from his hair to his neck. “Uh-oh, someone's jealous.” 

“I'm not jealous. Let them stare, I don't care. You're mine, my Cathie-pie. And you're my main birthday present for today.”  Buggy ran his hand under the hem of her dress. 

“I’m not your pr-!” Catherine was cut off by his mouth crashing desperately against hers, his kiss so urgent that it took her a few seconds to regain control of herself. Her mind blanked, and for those few precious seconds, all she could feel was him, his lips and hands all over her. His kiss was more frantic, his touch was rougher than usual, more frenzied, as though he wanted to get as much of her against him as he possibly could.

"I like the way you smell. I like the way you taste, Cathie-pie." As he spoke, the rest of his body began to respond to the feel of her in his arms -- not just due to the allure of intimacy, but also because of the warmth, the softness, and the surprising strength in her thighs, contrasted with the delicate nature of her elbows and wrists, which stirred within him a profound desire to yield to any request she might make.

She now mirrored his intense urgency, moving her body against his as she struggled for dominance until, as always, she surrendered completely in his embrace. She became malleable in his grasp, letting out soft sounds whenever he caressed her in a particular manner; each deliberate stroke of his tongue within her mouth, the way he positioned her thigh over his hip while pressing his arousal against her center, and the smirk he wore against her neck as he lavished attention on the sensitive skin there. His hand on her waist tightened its hold, drawing her body closer to his.

“What if your guys imagined me naked?” Catherine slowly began to unfasten the straps on his vest.

“Are you doing this on purpose, little shit?” Buggy took off his vest, knelt down and began kissing her legs. 

“I like to piss you off, asshole.” Catherine felt him move his lips higher. “My love, the door. Please lock the door.”

“No one's here anyway.” Buggy held on as best he could, but with every touch of her soft skin, he felt himself losing control.

Catherine felt his hands begin to squeeze her legs tighter, the kisses became longer. “Someone's going to die.” Catherine giggled and put her hand on his hair. “Don't you want to come up here?”

“Wait! I'm enjoying the moment.” Buggy lifted the hem of her dress slightly. “You’re driving me crazy tonight,” he groaned. “This dress? Phenomenal. Did you wear it for me?” He raised his gaze to her while positioned half-kneeling on the floor, his hands gliding over her exposed thighs, having pushed the dress up to her hips. His eyes were filled with intensity, silently pleading for the response he desired. 

Catherine wove her fingers through his hair as he transitioned from his fingertips to his lips, hovering perilously near the edge of her panties. “I–”

“Answer, cotton candy. The captain asked a question.” The words came out more of a grumble, vibrating against her body.

Fuck, she loved it when he spoke like that. It was his captain’s voice. The one which made her legs quiver and sent heat straight to her core. It was dominating. When he spoke to her like that, she was a lost cause.

Catherine murmured. “I knew my captain would like it.”

“Like it?” Buggy pressed a kiss to her inner thigh, and instantly her legs began to wobble. “Baby, I love it.”

That name – just hearing him call her baby at such moments – was enough to send her mind spiraling. Catherine should have known it was only a matter of time before they fell back into each other’s arms. Buggy groaned as he pulled the panties down, and she knew exactly why. She moaned, tugging desperately at his hair with her fingers.

“Lock the door, please.”

Buggy shook his head and emitted a low growl of contentment, then rewarded her by trailing his tongue along her warmth. Her back arched off the table as she attempted to draw him even closer to her.

“That's my girl,” he hissed, before delving into her with his tongue.

Catherine whimpered at the sudden explosion of pleasure, her senses going into overdrive. She was lost, completely helpless, not even aware of the words which were tumbling from her lips.

“Fuck, my love. The do, pl~”

Buggy switched between sucking her clit slowly into his mouth and circling her entrance. Catherine moved one of her hands to her mouth because she realized she’d moaned aloud, because even the sight of him kneeling there, almost made her come. As he continued to pleasure her with renewed intensity and deliberate movements of his tongue, it was not long before she felt herself nearing the brink, stifling a cry of his name. Buggy remained positioned between her legs, one hand resting firmly on her abdomen to provide support. Catherine’s legs trembled, and she realized that without his assistance, she would have collapsed to the floor by that point. Her heart raced even as he gradually rose to his feet. 

"I hate you," she said, grasping his hand.

The corner of his mouth curled upward as he cupped her jaw with his hand. “Still alive?” He leaned down to kiss her, allowing her to savor her own essence on his tongue. It was dirty and hot and everything.

“It seems like you're the birthday boy, but I got the present?” Catherine giggled. 

“Got? In the past tense? Oh, cotton candy, we're not done yet.” Buggy groaned against her skin, where his mouth was trailing hot kisses over her neck and collarbone. “Now I’m going to fuck you,” he murmured into her ear, and she couldn’t help the desperate whimper that tore from her throat. 

Catherine allowed herself to meet his gaze, her brow lifting in challenge. “Do it, then.” She grabbed his back and pressed him closer. His long blue hair spilling around them. 

Buggy took off his pants and underwear, smashed into her lips and Catherine moaned softly through the kiss, feeling him enter her. One smooth movement and he was inside her, filling her to the point of ecstasy before withdrawing achingly slowly. She moaned when his second thrust was harder, harsher than the first and she gripped at the edge of the desk to fully support herself. 

“The door!” Catherine whimpered through the kiss, feeling him pull her closer to him,

“I don't give a shit! There is no one here.” His lips traveled up the column of her neck, the tip of his nose tracing the side of her face as he breathed against her ear. 

She dug her fingers into his hair, when he started picking up the pace. The tension in the air was broken only by his moans and her sighs.

“Don't stop. Don't. I-- I want this, want you. Please, Bug-"

Buggy swallowed her gasp as they mashed into a hard kiss, tongues tangling as they explored each other's mouths. Thoughts washed over Buggy's head like a giant wave. Catherine accidentally reminded him of his past. The past he ran away from, trying to forget who he was and what he had, and now all that was good in his miserable life was her. 

“I love you. I love you. I so fucking love you..” Buggy whispered near her lips in a low voice, thrusting until she gasped, the hands on his shoulders turning harsh with the addition of nails. 

“Lo- fuck.. y- too.” Catherine smashed into his lips, trying to stifle her moans, which were getting louder.

Buggy's heavy thrusts send a tingling sensation along her spine, while his deep grunts intensified as he became increasingly aroused.  With another thrust, Catherine’s nails grazed his back, introducing a unique pain that only motivated him further. As Buggy thrust once more, her body tensed, anticipating the sensations that were about to unfold. His lips departed from hers, trailing down to her neck and further, without the use of his teeth. Catherine slightly arched her neck, allowing him greater access. She pressed her fingers into his back as he drove into her with increased intensity, no longer kissing or caressing her skin.

“I’m so close, my love. Oh, fuck. Fuck me harder and rougher, please.” 

Buggy growled, moaning her name. The love he felt in her heart, hearing her endless love words, made him make his thrusts even stronger, even more potent. As she wanted. Catherine tried not to moan his name loudly, afraid of who might be hearing her, breathless pleas as his rod slowly dragged inside her. One more hard thrust and a wave of brain-frying pleasure washed over her as felt they came together. 

Buggy pulled her closer and collapsed against her with a drawn out moan, his heart beating like a drum against her chest. His weight was pushing her down on the hard wood table, but she didn't care; she loved his weight on top of her, the feeling of his sweat-slicked body, the musky scent of an aroused male.

They didn't separate immediately. Catherine remained entwined with him as Buggy gradually regained his composure, taking deep breaths. Catherine held him close, providing a few extra moments for him to feel secure. His head rested on her shoulder while she gently massaged his back.

“You okay? With me?” Catherine asked quietly, stroking his back, and saw him nod. “You know, you smell like the salty sea. Musk and the sea.” 

“This's the best present ever, cotton candy.” Buggy chuckled and kissed her forehead. 

“Liar. I'm sure you did this.. well.. present.. with other girls on your birthday too.” 

“This is different. You are not “other girls”. How am I supposed to work at this desk now? How do you say it?” Buggy started imitating her. “This is our first sex on the desk, Buggy. Let's celebrate this every year.” 

“Go to hell, pervert.” Catherine gently kissed him on his nose. “By the way, I asked you to close the door. I wouldn't be surprised if you were hoping someone would come in.” She saw him shrug. “How can you think about that? It's such an intimate thing! Half of Cairo probably already knows that I'm sleeping with you.” 

“Not true!”

“I don't want to talk to you!” Catherine gently stroked his cheek. “But.. Happy birthday, my silly clown. Love you so, so much.” 

Buggy kissed her again and helped her down from the table. While he was fixing his makeup, Catherine wiped his lipstick traces from her body and quickly cleaned up the mess on the table. 

Catherine adjusted her dress. “God, I hope Richie didn't hear us." 

“Do you think that furry lump is gonna tell everyone what we did here?” Buggy reluctantly looked at himself in the mirror. 

Catherine noticed his sad face and immediately ran up to hug him. “You’re my best and the most handsome clown in the world. You know, I have an idea! We take a couple of bottles of booze, the rest of the cake and go home. We'll lie in bed in our pajamas, watching some stupid show and eating cake.” 

“Not bad.” Buggy kissed her head. “Do you want to take your favorite stupid walk along the embankment?”

“Really? I want! I really want! I love walking with you!” Catherine squealed happily. “Give me 10 minutes, I need to change my clothes, I can't walk down the street looking like this.” 

“But I hoped you would stay in your sexy dress.” Buggy plopped down on the couch. 

“Nope! It was a gift just for you, my flashy fool. Otherwise, you'll get mad if someone looks at me in this dress.” Catherine hid behind the closet door, started to undress, and out of the corner of her eye she saw a flying head. “Hey, clown! Don't peek!” 

“Are you serious? I've seen you naked a thousand times!”

“I'll take your head now and hide it somewhere in the closet. For God's sake, Buggy, zip up your pants and wait for me, please!” She heard him fall onto the couch and exhale. Buggy tried to peek again, but Catherine threw a pillow at him. 

“I'll take your shirt? Okay? And we can g~. what's this?” She pulled out a photo. “Wow! You not only have my picture in your wallet, but also on your shelf?”

“Hey! Give it back!” Buggy sent his hand, pulled the photo out of her hands, and put it in the drawer. “It doesn't mean anything.”

“But this is you and me, when you took me out on a picnic last week. You were grumbling and freaking out because I wanted to take a picture of us. Sure, I'd be happier if I weren't lying between your underwear. Why do you need spare underwear here? Although, you know, don't answer, I don't want to know what you're doing here.” Catherine tiptoed over to the couch, throwing on her shirt, and kissed him on the lips. "I knew you loved me, my Buggy Bear." Smack. “Okay, let's take the cake and go home. I think I've already trampled you with romance tod~.” Catherine opened the door and froze. “Buggy…”

"What?" He sent his head towards the door. 

They stared silently at the blushing Cabaji who was returning to the green room, screaming. “I didn't hear anything!!”

“Did you want someone to see us?” Catherine looked at Buggy, not understanding whether he was proud of this situation or ashamed. "Congratulations, clown, your dream has almost come true."

[ztarvokwrites]

Dracule Mihawk - Actions Speak Volumes

a/n: yo yo yo! had this scenario in my head for a few days n decided to write abt it before i lose my train of thought haha! here u go <3

synopsis: it's only when you finally snap that he realises just how much you're hurting, thus he does everything he can to make it up to you.

reader is gn!

warnings: none, just angst, fluff, comfort, maybe a bit of sexual tension at the end if you squint hard enough.

word count: 1,626

Your actions as of recent have been nothing short of frustratingly annoying. After Mihawk returned from a 3-month escapade for only the best supplies for the Guild (he does not trust Buggy’s lackeys), you’ve been acting uncharacteristically cold towards him. Alvida knows what’s bothering you, yet refuses to tell him why you’re suddenly so ice cold, a harsh and bitter contrast to your warm and kind personality that he adored so much.

“You should already know that, seeing how you’re so perceptive of everything,” She says as he asks once again what your problem is. His eyes are on you as you silently help Cabaji set up some weapons in case they need to battle the Navy again. “But, if you can’t see they’re hurting because of you, you’re dumber than I thought.”

“And what exactly did I do to them, may I ask? All I did was go out for supplies,” Mihawk responds sharply, looking at the young woman beside him from the corner of his eye. Alvida looks at him, dumbfounded at the density of the former Warlord. She grunts, putting her hands on her hips.

“Yeah, for 3 whole months without telling them,” Exclaims the woman, brows furrowing as she looks towards you, arms folding over her chest again. “Honestly, I’m surprised they’re still with you considering how bad you’ve been treating them!”

This made his head snap towards her so fast that Alvida jolted back, eyes wide in fear. His golden eyes, usually cold and unfeeling, look surprised at her statement. Surely she’s bluffing, right? Mihawk can’t recall treating his partner poorly. Sure, they might’ve had a little argument here and there, but he was still devoted to them. 

“...What makes you think I am treating my beloved so poorly?” He asks, his cold voice holding an edge of offence to Alvida’s accusation.

“Well…” Alvida hesitates, voice weak for a moment before she continues speaking with confidence. “You haven’t been spending much time with them, your attitude towards them is just downright mean, you brush off their concerns like they’re a waste of time, and-”

“Alvida,” You interrupted, walking up to her with your arms folded. “Stop complaining, would you? Me venting to you when I’m drunk doesn’t permit you to go to Dracule about our relationship troubles. This is something between Dracule and I, so keep your nose out of it.”

Dracule.

You’ve never used his first name before, let alone with such… Unfathomable coldness. Mihawk stares — no, gawks at you, his stoic expression faltering slightly into one of pure confusion. Was what Alvida said true? When your eyes meet his, he watches as you narrow your gaze, a silent command for him to speak to you privately now that he knows too much. His gaze holds your own for a few seconds until you walk away. Following you, he tries to strike up a conversation, but you shoot his attempts down with a simple, “We’ll talk when we’re in private, so be quiet and follow me.”

And so, in uncomfortable silence, Mihawk follows you into your shared tent, staring at you with his arms crossed as you sit at the table. You speak first before he can even open his mouth, airing out your grievances and spilling your heart to the man, knowing he can shrug it off like before. You speak of the neglect as of late, how he has been nonchalant and uncaring towards you, how you’ve been feeling unloved by the man and how you’ve been constantly put aside now that you’ve all formed the Cross Guild.

And perhaps you’ve seen this coming — no, you have seen this coming; the way he deflects and tries to downplay how badly he’s been treating you because he simply refuses to believe it. Of course, this turns into an argument that eventually gets heated, as tears sting your eyes and threaten to spill down your cheeks. You’re practically screaming at this point, desperately trying to get him to see your point of view.

“For once in your life, Dracule,” There you go again, using his first name as if it were venom on your tongue. “Think about me! Think about us! Instead of your top priority being disappearing without a trace for months on end, making me worried sick about you — you should be prioritising what this relationship means to you because this means everything to me! You mean everything to me!”

Mihawk goes silent at your outburst, his arms unfolding and resting by his sides as his attention falls on you. He’s not focused on what he refuses to believe anymore, he’s only focused on you. Only you. It’s like his world stops once he sees your grief-stricken face, your tears finally escaping your tear ducts and caressing your cheeks as they drift down to your chin, your lips pulled into a tight frown. His face remains stoic as he listens, finally listens to you. 

Oh, how he wants to hold you in his arms and apologise, but he doesn’t. He just lets you yell at him and open his eyes to the truth… But you’re gone once you’re done speaking, you're pushing past him and walking out of the tent to get some well-deserved air. The former Warlord steps out of the tent, trying to see where you ran off to, but you are nowhere to be seen.

It’s then that he decides he’s going to make it up to you. He isn’t a fool, he knows he hasn’t been as affectionate as of late, and this argument has made him realise just how much he’ll lose if he loses you. Mihawk certainly doesn’t want to lose you, not after all you’ve been through together.

Throughout the day, he gives you your space but finds little things that remind him of you as he explores what Emptee Bluff’s Island has to offer. Whether it be flowers or your favourite drink in the town that’s opposite Buggy’s Town, he soon returns with three or four bags of gifts and groceries — ignoring the questioning looks on peoples’ faces as he casually carries the heavy bags to your shared tent with ease.

As the week progresses, he slowly starts giving you these gifts in secret, leaving them in your chair or your side of the bed in the morning. Whenever you’d see them, your heart would skip a beat and ache with confusion before a small blush would rise to your cheeks. You know he’s a man of few words, so you are glad he is acknowledging you like this.

Finally, the time comes for the perfect last gift — a romantic dinner under the stars, far away from the chaos of the Guild, even if it was just for an hour or two. You show up wearing your best outfit, a little nervous as it’s been a while since the argument and neither of you have properly talked since. It’s not hard to find the spot, as the candles on the grass illuminate the blanket that you find your partner patiently sitting on. A small pang in your heart strikes as he lifts his head, his golden eyes meeting your gaze and scanning over your outfit. 

You can almost see it, the way his eyes light up behind his cold exterior upon seeing you dressed up like this. Honestly, it makes you flustered the way he just stares at you before motioning you to come forward and take a seat beside him.

“...I thought I’d treat you to something special tonight,” Begins Mihawk, pouring you a glass of wine as you sit down beside him. With a small smile, you take the glass from him and have a sip. “...I’ve been thinking about what Alvida had exposed to me, and what you said during our latest quarrel about a week ago.” A lump forms in your throat as you swallow the sip of your drink, feeling dread fill your stomach. There’s a small silence that overtakes you both as you avoid his gaze, looking up at the stars as he looks at you with those piercing eyes.

“...I don’t want to lose you like I almost did before,” Mihawk continues, staring at you as he puts his drink down on the blanket, his hand gently touching your forearm. “So let me make it up to you. I’m sorry, I promise to never make you feel unloved ever again.” You avert your gaze from the stars, finally looking towards him with tears glistening in your eyes. The hand that rests on your forearm now caresses your cheek, wiping away a stray tear that dares to slide down your flushed skin with his calloused thumb.

“...You’re an asshole sometimes, Mihawk,” You respond, your tone slightly playful yet mixing with a twinge of hurt. “You don’t notice how much you hurt me until it’s too late, and you’re a man with so few words that it surprises me you argue back… But, somehow, you eventually find the right words to say and I come crawling back to you. But I’ve noticed that this time, it’s different. Your actions have spoken volumes louder than your voice has, and it…” You stop rambling once you take in the way he’s looking at you.

The way a small smile barely tugs at his stoic lips, the way his golden eyes soften and pupils dilate as he takes you in. You blush, yet he finds himself smiling just a little more, his thumb gently rubbing your cheek. The two of you find yourselves leaning in, and for a moment you think your lips are going to collide, but instead, Mihawk opens his mouth to say, “Would you like to see what I’ve prepared for this evening, my dear?”

starnote: i'm sleepy :)

dividers by @/ saradika!

[ageingfangirl2]

You Could Do So Much Better Than Me! Buggy (OPLA)

You are a princess from a small island kidnapped by Buggy and his crew. Little did Buggy know he'd kidnapped the wrong princess, and after time together he feels sorry for you and asks you to join his crew. Buggy x Reader (Female)

Your head was groggy, why couldn't you remember anything? Yes, you drank but never enough to blackout. You groan loudly and attempt to stretch your hands but hit something metallic. Your eyes dart open in fear, and you have to cover your eyes from the light because it makes your head hurt more.

'Finally, the princess wakes up,' an unfamiliar male voice chuckles.

A clown was crouched down in front of you, you scramble backwards but your back hits metal, 'WHY AM I IN A CAGE? WHERE AM I? WHO ARE YOU?'

The clown grins menacingly at your fear, 'I kidnapped you princess. You're on my ship, everyone calls me Buggy.'

You click your tongue as realisation dawns on you that you'd been kidnapped by a notorious pirate, 'Buggy The Genius Jester, I've seen your wanted posters. Why kidnap me?' you question, calming down a little.

Buggy's eyes sparkle when you use one of his other names, 'I'm glad you've heard of me, princess. It should be obvious why I kidnapped you. I've already sent a ransom demand to your family, royalty will pay a lot of berry.'

You can't help but laugh, 'now that's funny. Do you know nothing of lineage?'

Buggy frowns, 'why are you laughing? I kidnapped you, you should be scared.'

You try to control your laughter and wipe a stray tear away, 'you couldn't have picked anyone worse to kidnap. Everybody knows I'm, the throwaway, the expendable one. You should have taken my sister since she's next in line for the throne. I'm the spare to her heir.'

'QUIET!' Buggy growls and slams his gloved hands on the cage, 'they'll pay, otherwise, I'll have to send them body parts as an incentive.'

You bite your lip and roll your eyes, 'I bet the ransom money they don't do anything. You can slice and dice me, sell me, or even kill me and they won't bat an eyelid. I'm a realist Buggy.'

Buggy huffs, stands up and storms up the stairs leaving you locked in a cage in the depths of his ship. This wasn't your first kidnap attempt, but the first successful one. Buggy could be dangerous, and you didn't know how he'd react if he didn't get his way.

1 WEEK LATER

BUGGY

'You're going to want to see this captain,' Cabaji says, holding out a newspaper to me.

I snatch it from him and my heart sinks a little at the headline halfway through the paper not even considered major news 'ROYAL FAMILY DEVASTATED BY DEATH OF BELOVED PRINCESS - ASK FOR PRIVACY WHILE THEY GRIEVE'

'I kind of feel bad for them, doesn't even mention a kidnapping. Puts all the fault on her for being careless,' Cabaji sighs.

I wasn't annoyed that they didn't mention my excellent kidnapping or ransom demand, but I was angry they blamed their own daughter making them out to be a bumbling idiot while their older sister couldn't do anything wrong. I guess I better show this to y/n and decide what to do next.

I'd had the cage moved to my quarters to make y/n more comfortable, I wasn't a monster and they'd been the perfect hostage. Over the past week, we'd talked about a lot of things, especially my adventures since y/n had never left their island. They may have a fire and a yearning for something more than a title, and I maybe kind of wanted to help them because it was nice having someone else intelligent on the ship.

I enter my quarters and y/n looks up at me from inside the cage and waves, 'You're back quickly, it usually takes you half an hour to check things over.'

I hand them the paper between the bars, 'I might owe you than ransom money. Your family are assholes.'

y/n reads the article and snorts, 'I never asked to be royal Buggy. I hated the etiquette and the dresses, and don't even get me started on arranged marriages. I spent my days sparring and fighting with my tutors. I'm pretty good with a blade.'

Next thing I know they pull out a blade from behind their back and twirl it in their hand, 'Now where did you get that?' I ask, intrigued.

They smile, 'took it from one of your crew on my daily walk around the ship, no one even noticed me.'

I'd have to punish the crew member who let a princess steal one of their weapons, but an idea popped into my head and could benefit the pair of us, 'Join my crew. I'll turn you into a feared pirate and we'll destroy your family.'

Their eyes light up, 'sounds like fun Bugg--I mean captain.'

Hearing them call me captain had a nice ring to it. If they could fight and thief they'd fit in fine, and with their knowledge of royalty we could easily make a lot of money and boost our reputation. They insisted I'd chosen the wrong princess to kidnap, but it looked like I'd chosen the right one. With them by my side things would get a lot more interesting around here.

[sporadicthingcollection]

Eppur è d'uopo, sforzati! (Buggy the Clown x F!Reader)

Summary: In which a stork arrives early, Buggy has a rough day, and you get what you deserve. Pairing: Buggy the Clown x F!Reader Rating: Clean. Word Count: ~1.5k. Warnings: Pregnancy, childbirth, exploitation of a Devil Fruit power. A/N: good news is that i'm not ovulating anymore bad news is that i got a mental image in my head that wouldn't go away so i'm subjecting you guys to it too. also, this buggy has more of the anime version in him, so just a heads up!

---

It was a power move, plain and simple. Boa Hancock, Warlord of the Sea, refusing to negotiate with anyone away from Amazon Lily. And Buggy, having drawn the short straw, gets ordered under threat of revocation of his title to go do it.

So not only does he have to brave Sea Kings in the Calm Belt, he doesn't even get to go ashore when he gets there. No, he has to send the female crew to deal with it.

And, to make matters worse, you insisted upon going with them. You, with swollen ankles and an aching back. You, waddling around and damn near ready to pop. You, eight and half months pregnant with not just any child, but his child.

How could you be so callous and cruel to him like this? Where do you get off on tormenting him with the knowledge that, if something happens, he won’t be able to get to you? It’s pure sadism is what it is, and he’s wearing a rut in the deck trying to get his mind off of it.

A distant scream splits the air.

Your scream.

---

Nine months. Babies come out at nine months. That's how it's always been, that’s how it always will be.

So then why, oh why, does this little asshole decide to pop out at eight and a half?

A wave of pain wracks you. You double over in your chair.

You suppose you're lucky. You’re in a palace in a private room with a bed, a tub of warm water, anything you could possibly need. The midwife, Cassandra, has gentle hands and comforting words. Dozens of women show up to fuss over you and encourage you, a number of them mothers themselves. Dahlia brings food, Gloriosa sings songs, Marguerite and Sandersonia hold your hands when the contractions get worse.

Even the Pirate Empress herself pays the occasional visit, albeit under the excuse to scold you for making a ridiculous amount of noise. But she always lingers with a curious gaze, and commands that more bedding be brought or that “I must be prepared for when I bear the child of my beloved,” whatever the hell that means.

Too bad they don’t have any morphine.

---

The only thing stopping Buggy from collapsing into a million parts is that he has completely locked up. He cannot move his head, his fingers, his eyes, everything is frozen stiff.

Fortunately for him, Galdino asks the question for him. “She’s what?” 

“I just told you: in labor.” Alvida is way too calm. She dusts her coat, adjusts her hat, buffs out a scuff on her fingernails. “Her water broke right in the middle of the discussion. Three hours of political maneuvering, wasted.”

“I think we got it sorted, though.” The strongwoman shakes her head. “Poor gal. Of all the dumb luck.”

Another scream rips the air. Everyone flinches.

It cuts through Buggy like a knife through... well, himself. He gets his senses back and only one thing consumes his mind.

He vaults over the side of the ship. Kuja laws be damned, he needs to get to you, even if he has to swim for it. Before you get hurt. Or killed. Or worse.

He only realizes the mistake he’s made when he hits the water.

---

You blink in disbelief. “It’s what?”

“Upside-down,” Cassandra says. She adjusts her glasses. “If my intuition is correct, it’s coming out rear end first.”

Breech birth. You suppose you shouldn’t be surprised. Your grandmother was a breech, your mother was a breech, your niece was a breech... Breeches all the way down in your family.

And, considering its father, of course the little fucker’s an acrobat.

You groan and fall backwards. Part of you is glad he’s not here. You’d strangle him. The other part wishes he was here. So you could strangle him. And rip his balls off. Hell, you might just do that anyways. DIY orchiectomy.

A contraction wracks you and you yelp.

---

What do you do with a distraught sailor, when the sun is highest?

Hold him back from swimming to the island. He’ll kick and thrash and escape all three of the strongmen and throw himself overboard and Cabaji will have to jump in and fish him out.

What do you do with a distraught sailor, early in the evening?

Lock him up in a cage with Richie. He’ll cut himself to ribbons and slip through the bars and sneak past everyone on deck and throw himself overboard and Cabaji, having just finally gotten himself into dry clothes, will have to take another dip.

What do you do with a distraught sailor, at the witching hour?

Clamp him to the mast with Seastone handcuffs. He’ll pick up a nail on deck and pick the lock and outrun everyone trying to catch him and throw himself overboard and Cabaji will make Mohji jump in this time because he’s getting really sick of this bullshit.

What do you do with a distraught sailor, early in the morning?

Hack off his hands and arms and noggin, throw the Seastone cuffs on his ankles, tie his torso to the mast, stuff his own bandanna in his mouth, then post up guards.

Even gagged, Buggy’s screams rival yours.

---

Just when you’re ready to give up the ghost and will yourself into unconscious bliss, you feel it. Something gives. Then something else. With one mighty push, one mighty curse, and one mighty splat, your child is born.

The baby howls like a beast. You suppose you’d be screaming too if you were covered in shit and viscera and had a full head of hair.

You want to hold it. You need to hold it. "Give-- Gimme it," you sputter.

Cassandra, hands it to you. "A boy," she says.

You’re ashamed to be a little disappointed. Based on the talk, you were hoping for a girl. But it all fades as you hold him in your arms and bring him to your chest, overwhelmed by a tide of hormones and emotion.

He’s a little funny-looking, with his pink skin and little stretched face and his legs at weird angles. But he’s here. A baby. Your baby. Buggy’s baby.

You start to sob.

---

Buggy is once again frozen stiff. He wants nothing more than to help you back aboard, hold your hand as you step over the railing, and escort you to his cabin. It would be the absolute least he could do.

But no. He’s stuck up here on the quarterdeck, doing even less than that. He watches as you make your way up the stairs, clutching a bundle wrapped in a floral-patterned blanket. Dark circles ring your eyes and your gait is stiff and exhausted.

Say something. Anything. “You look like hell,” he says. Goddammit.

Fortunately for him, you huff in amusement. “I’ve certainly been through hell.” You stand closer and angle the bundle towards him. “Wanna see what I found there?”

His hand hovers over the corner of the blanket. What if it’s dead? What if it’s got a dog’s face? What if its hair is red? What if it’s got its father’s--?

“Just look, Buggy,” you scold.

He swallows. He pulls back the corner.

Nestled in the blankets, blinking in the light, is a miniature you. A head full of thick dark hair, already starting to curl at the ends. Dark eyes, peering at him the same way you do. And, right in the middle of its chubby little face, your delicately curved nose.

Heat fills his belly with smoke. He recognizes this emotion. It’s the same one as when he sees someone waving around a treasure map. When he spies a chest overflowing with gold. When he first laid eyes on you.

He can hardly hear his own voice. “She’s gorgeous.”

“He,” you say. Buggy looks at you. You smile. “He’s a boy.”

A boy. A boy. His boy. Your boy. He has a son. You gave him a son.

The smoke catches fire and sets his whole body alight. He snatches the baby -- his son! -- from your arms and holds him -- his son! -- up high, presenting him -- his son! -- to the assembled crew like a boxer holding up a champion belt.

He shouts, bellows, screams for the whole world to hear: “I have a son!”

A cacophony of cheers goes up from every man and woman on the deck and, for a few moments, everything is right in the world. Mohji throws his arms around Cabaji. The strongwoman picks up Galdino and spins him around. Alvida smiles as she leans against her mace. Richie roars. Even the Kuja who escorted you back whoop.

Wait a damn minute. You did all the work. You made his son. You pushed him out. All he did was be in the right place at the right time with a bad pullout game.

He places the baby back in your arms and sweeps you into his own, separating his trunk from his legs to raise you up even higher. He wants to shout something eloquent, an ode to your strength and beauty, a paean to your power, a declaration that you are the greatest treasure he’s ever stolen.

But all that comes out, through snot and tears that he didn’t even realize were flowing, is a garbled, blubbered, “I love this woman!”

The cheers only grow, joined by your clattery laughter.

---

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