Ghost Has Been Gone For Months...

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Buggy: you dropped something

Y/n: what...?

Buggy: your standards. Hi, im Buggy

Y/n: ...

take figures out of their boxes btw. sew patches on your favorite jacket. go to bed with your favorite plushes. wear the pants you usually save for special occasions. draw something cool on your wall. put a sticker on your laptop. dye your hair and pierce your lips. glass is meant to break, metal is meant to rust. items are meant to be used. that's how the world knows that somebody loved them.

We know people are inexplicably drawn to Buggy the clown and in a very intense way. Not to mention accidental.

There is something about Buggy, that makes hundreds of dudes to worship him even if he doesn't like it.

He is a mediocre pirate (when compared to others), and yet his crew is devasted every time they lose him.

And remember what happened with Gaimon?

They were drinking buddies one night and the next day they exchanged farewells in thr most dramatic way possible. Ajd all of this makes me wonder:

Does it affect Buggy too?

Is it as easy for him to get attached to people as they draw to him?

My semi-educated guess is yes. He is so intense, it only makes sense.

After all, he cried along with his crew when they got reunited. He said goodbye to Gaimon as if they were lifelong friends , and most curiously, he can't let Shanks go.

Even if he hates him, it's obvious he got so attached to him (because they were crew mates, or because they were the same age, or the only boys on boat, whatever the reason might be), that he keeps bringing him back at the smallest provocation.

Buggy is so intense, and he gets attatched so hard that if you upset him once, he is gonna hold on that forever, but also there is a high chance that if you get to hang out with him and know him more personally (I will exclude his followers and fans), he would care about you as much as you care about him.

Or hate you forever if you cross him.

I saw other artists giving him blue eyes and is so cute, but those empty soulless ones that make him look like he has 0 braincells are just perfect XD

Close your eyes, just settle, settle

Word count: ~1.4k Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, buggy x GN!reader, no use of Y/N, partaking in the devil's lettuce 🍃, masturbation while fantasizing about sex, assumed unrequired infatuation, smidge of edging/delayed orgasm, lil bit of angst and shame at the end. Apparently I have a thing for lonely perv buggy whoops

Title from "A Decade Under the Influence" by Taking Back Sunday

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Moonbeams seep into the room. Slow and lazy, easily caught in the swirling heady smoke. A lighter clicks. A deep inhale followed by a slow exhale, nearly a sigh, adds to the drifting currents. Buggy sinks into his pillows, the softness tricking his body into thinking it might fall straight through. 

While the pirate prefers copious amounts of alcohol as his main vice, some nights he’ll indulge in a different session. A sticky feeling on his fingertips, the taste of fire and ash, a deeply earthy smell that’s pleasantly unpleasant. It doesn’t take long for the smoke to blur the edges of his mind and stretch it out like loose cotton. The fiber seems to extend throughout his body, replacing muscle with fluff, and wicking away moisture in his mouth. 

His body moves to meet the craving while the thoughts are still traversing the maze in his head. He pauses for a moment, holding the glass of water, and waits for the next step to reveal itself. Drink. Of course. He gulps down the refreshing liquid. Quickly, greedily.

Coolness rushes in his body, a tide of crisp hydration. Rivulets escape the corners of his mouth, coursing down his chin and neck, before stopping among the blue curls on his chest. Buggy sets down the glass and returns to the nest of pillows, feeling at home with the cushioning.

The water on his body is cold. Then warm. It feels good. His body reacts with goosebumps. His nipples harden. Now that’s all he can think about - two points of tension sending electricity through his soft, fluid body. Buggy closes his eyes and follows the trail, visiting the body parts as they light up. His biceps and shoulders. Fingertips. Ribcage and stomach. Skin held under the tight waistband of his underwear. Thighs under the fabric. Everything that’s encased in the only clothing he has on. 

The signal concentrates in one spot and Buggy’s not sure if he willed that to happen. But it does. He feels the swelling. Movement. Growth. Pulses that flash thoughts in his head. Thoughts of you. It always happens - there’s a connection that Buggy can’t break. The bobbing of his dick easily catches the teasing images swimming through his imagination.

Buggy’s body is heavy. He tries to ignore himself, despite his cock crying for attention. Precum is already seeping into his underwear and smears with each throb. Fuck, it feels good. He still tries to ignore it, though. The fabric dances against the underside of his sensitive head. Buggy bites his lip and indulges for a moment, letting the tension move his erection. Feeling it fight against the fabric before falling with a sticky sound on his pelvis. A sound that he desperately wants to recreate with you. Rubbing and hitting his dripping tip against your flushed cheeks. Across your kiss-bruised lips. On your thighs. 

Body moving faster than his mind once again, Buggy slips a hand - just a hand - under the waistband and drags it along his swollen cock. It’s hot and needy beneath his touch. Moving his hand lower, the pirate cups his heavy balls. Still soft and pliable, they fill his grasp and flow with a gentle massage.

His mind was too focused on touch and forgot to remind the pirate to breathe. Really breathe. A lungful of oxygen reignites the herby air in his body, somehow adding to the haze in his head, rather than clearing it out. Feeling his control fraying, Buggy releases the anchor and floats in the body high. He pulls off his underwear and lets his body meld into the soft sheets and pillows, becoming a part of the environment.

Buggy closes his eyes and looks for you. He’s seen your face flushed from exertion, so it’s easy to reframe the scene and imagine you looking down at him like that. Your sparkling eyes glazing over with lust, redness spreading from your cheeks to your ears, tongue darting out to lick your delicious lips. He thumbs the tip of his cock, swirling the viscous precum around his head in anticipation of the vision of you lowering yourself down.

Frowning in concentration, he thinks about how you’d gasp feeling his flared head enter your body. The way you’d sink down slowly, giving your body time to adjust and to memorize the feel of his member. Buggy drags a loose grasp along his cock, imagining it dragging along your insides. Releasing a shaky breath, he tightens his grip. It’s nothing like how your heat would feel, but it helps him fantasize.

He squeezes down to the base, wanting to be fully sheathed in your body. His cock twitches within the imposed prison, a sensation that would probably have you whine in response. Seeking more, you’d rock your hips and grind. Buggy can’t replicate that, so he adds to the scene instead. Your hands on his chest, holding yourself up. His touch would run up your thighs and to your rolling hips, before reaching around to your ass. He’d grope and squeeze, pulling your asscheeks apart so he feels deeper. So you feel fuller. So full that you have to let out the moans and whimpers you had been holding in.

Buggy fists himself faster. His balls start to tighten and he feels the thread in his body grow taut. You’re amazing. Lovely. You’d feel so good. His foggy head can only focus on directing the manifestation, not on an accompanying script. The words he’d want to say simply come out. Not for him to hear, but to taste. To feel in his mouth, just as he feels you riding him.

“F-fuck, you’re taking it so well. You’re taking me so well.” “You make me feel good, baby.” “I can feel you twitching on m-my cock.” “Tell me how full you feel.” “Fuck, harder p-please.” “Yeah, just like that. Keep going, gonna cum.” “N-no, stop teasing. P-put it back in. Please, please…”

Despite his looming climax, Buggy pulls back and whimpers between gasping breaths. He maintains a hold at the head of his distressed cock. How sinful you’d look like that, with just the tip of his dick stretching you out. Bucking against his hold, Buggy can see how you’d tremble from thrusts that don’t bottom, from a teasing touch that would break you when you give in. And you would. You’d fall to his sweet words and promises.

“I’ll make you feel so good. Don’t you want to cum on my cock?” “Please, I w-want to feel you. I need to feel you squeeze me.” “S’like my dick was made for you.” “Fuck, l-let me put it in, please. Wanna be deep in you.”

He’d wait until you let him. His toes would curl. His breath would hitch. He’d bite his lips. He’d beg. And when you do let him fully thrust into you, you’d fall apart. 

Buggy fucks his fist without abandon, through the climax that would have you shaking on top of his body, crying out for the pleasure overwhelming you. Imaginary pleasure that snaps his own thread, the tension exploding from his cock and all over his hand and stomach. There’s a lot. You’d feel it fill your insides and some would escape with each thrust. Buggy groans as he milks every drop, imagining the pearls that would escape when you pull yourself off of him. As much as he wants you to stay, the vision drifts away until it’s lost in the empty swirling air.

The hot ecstasy in his body also starts to dissipate, leaving behind an uncomfortable emptiness. Buggy uses his discarded underwear to clean up. The still-warm jizz leaves a chill slick as the fabric struggles to soak the sticky liquid. Swallowing his disgust, Buggy scrapes the cloth against himself hard, scrubbing the unwelcome remnants. It’s still not the best cleaning job. He still feels dirty. Scummy, both inside and out.

Buggy drops the soiled clothing onto the floor and reaches towards the side table so he can burn the guilt into ash. Smoke fills his lungs, but not the aching void in his chest. Falling back with a sigh, Buggy tries to replace the hole with promises that are just as empty. Plans to talk to you. To tell you how he feels. To face fear, rather than drown in remorse. Anything to chase away the loneliness he’s surrounded himself with.

Ignoring the sting pricking the corners of his dry eyes, Buggy lets his mind follow the hope until it flies too high and he falls back to sleep.

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A/N: Gonna keep sharing the lines that I particularly like. This time it's "The words he’d want to say simply come out. Not for him to hear, but to taste. To feel in his mouth, just as he feels you riding him."

You’re A Part Of My Heart

2k words of me attempting fluff n smut so hope u like it!! @gayafsatan a tag as requested hehehe

It was a slow night, the kind where only the regulars in town filled the booths and tables. Pirate crews came and went, so when a colorful band of rowdy sailors filled the room with chatter, you paid no mind. You saw his flashy outfit first; bright orange hat with long blue hair brushing the shoulders of anyone close enough to the captain, long coat with dirty white fur, sparkly blue clown makeup.

There was no mistaking Captain Buggy with anyone else. You usually didn’t get pirates with a high bounty here, making you a little nervous. You didn’t show it, barely looking his direction until he approached you.

”Rum, top shelf.”

”You gonna chase that down with anything, man?”

He smiles, even with yellow teeth and all that greasepaint he was handsome. You didn’t make it a habit to sleep with every sailor passing through, they’d never leave you alone if you did, but you entertained the idea in your head this time.

”Maybe a drinking partner will make it go down smoother.”

Corny, fits the costume. You smile, watching him watch you set down two shot glasses.

“Fair winds, and following seas,” you say as you both knocked back a shot.

“Oh, you’re far too young to be some washed up sailor setting up in a bar.”

”Do only sailors know that one?” you shrug, leaving him to drink alone.

Your eyes always followed back to his, like he willed it. His always meeting yours. Glancing at the other customers, you decide to drink with Buggy again. At this point, his hat was off and so was his coat. Lingering on his form, the way his muscles flexed with his moments, you set course on your target tonight.

”I was.”

He furrowed his brows a moment, “what happened?”

”Too much death, who would’ve thought piracy wasn’t just drinking in the sun all day?”

He raises his glass to yours, clinking them together. His eyes were hard to read, no doubt thinking of his own loss, whoever it was.

“I was a captain too, not much different than running a bar actually.”

He laughs, another shot. He leaned forward this time, fingers brushing up against your hand.

“The bar and the ship share the same name?”

You wonder if being honest would be a turn off, “ah, no. It’s named after someone I knew. Sailing wasn’t the same, you know?”

Buggy stares at you for a beat, his gaze suddenly uncomfortable. You falter, turning to leave.

His hand grabs yours, “what’s your favorite drink?”

”I like sweet stuff.”

”Me too.”

You relax, seeing the man behind the pirate. You end up drinking with him most of the night, the patrons slowly trickling out of the bar and out of your mind. It’s only him you see, an island in the middle of the ocean. You talk about nothing important, what he saw on his travels, islands you been to.

”See that you got my wanted poster up there,” he points to his own smiling face.

”Keeps the marines outta my hair. You know,” you smile at how clever you are, “it’s a shot for every million. Tradition.”

He rests his cheek on your palm, “is that so?”

Your fingers tingle up your arm into your spine, “let me close up first. I got the good shit upstairs.”

Buggy doesn’t let you go far, trailing behind as your turn off the lights and lock the door. You feel a hand at your waist as you lead him up to your bed. You waste no time with him, capturing his lips with yours.

He tastes like rum, lipstick, and salt. His gloves feel cool against your warm skin, fingers running over every exposed inch. He’s rough with you, desperate to get you closer and closer. Teeth grazes your skin, nails dig in.

”Buggy,” you whisper, “fuck me baby.”

He moans, shoving you on to the mattress. You never seen someone take off clothes so quickly before, his eagerness makes you laugh.

”What’s so funny,” he grumbles before kissing you.

”Oh you know,” you say between kisses.

He stops abruptly, “what did you fucking say?”

”What? I’m saying nothing.”

”My nose, you’re making fun of me.”

He looks angry, ready to rip your throat out. You attempt to reach out to him, he slaps your hand away.

“Buggy, what’s wrong?”

”Oh it’s so funny huh? Get big nose all excited just to laugh at him. I’ll teach you-“

”-I wasn’t laughing at you, shithead.”

He scoffs, and you turn his chin to look at you. His face hides his hurt, except the eyes. You feel like you should kick him out, but something stops you. Buggy looks at you like he’s expecting it.

”Kiss me, Buggy.”

He does, cautiously this time. You move away to wiggle out of your clothes, Buggy helping along the way. His hands detach to your horror, pulling your shirt off your arms.

“Holy shit.”

He only winks, those same hands crawling around your body. It’s all happening too fast to comprehend. You can only think of what else he can do with those hands.

”Chop Chop Fruit.”

You laugh again, giving his cock a few pumps. He swallows, almost like he can’t believe this is happening with you. Kisses litter your chest before he bites down on a nipple, Buggy getting more aggressive with every little noise you make. Red lipstick marks your body with every bite, you tug his hair causing his eyes to roll back.

His tongue reaches your cunt, sliding between your folds easily. He eats you out like a starving man, nose pressing your clit. The pressure feels wonderful, holding onto his head for dear life.

“Buggy,” you beg.

“That’s it, baby. That’s it,” he murmurs into your thighs.

It’s all too much, you shove him off you with a smile on your face. Buggy wipes his mouth before kissing you, you knew you were going to have a hell of a time cleaning all this paint up later but right now you didn’t care.

“You want this cock? Yeah? You want me to fuck you?”

You nod as he spreads your legs apart, lining himself up. He was not gentle with you, and you loved it. Buggy thrusted hard and fast, babbling in your ear. He seemed to like it when you pulled his hair, or bit an earlobe. You were turning into putty in his hands, and him in yours.

Throwing your leg over his shoulder, he hit deeper and deeper. You felt like you were about to burst, Buggy close behind you.

He collapsed onto you, struggling to breathe. You kissed his head as you stroked his hair, eventually he stilled long enough you figured he was asleep. You decided you didn’t mind at all, wanting to stay with him as long as possible.

“This was nice,” he said suddenly.

You gave him a squeeze, “that mean you’re leaving then?”

He lifted his head, eyes intense, “are you asking me to leave?”

What was the harm?

“No, you can stay if you wanna.”

”Do you want me to?”

This shot at your heart, he was a sad little clown wasn’t he?

“I do. Wanna shower with me? We’re red and blue all over.”

He smiles so brightly you’re stupid enough to think too long on it. He’s handsy as expected, his skin burning hot as you kiss his body. You wash the rest of his makeup off, leaning into each other’s touch. He’s dreamy, maybe too dreamy.

”Squeaky clean, butter bean.”

He laughs, “you’re too cute.”

“I don’t have anything for you to sleep in, sorry.”

”Neither do you then,” he winks.

As you towel off, Buggy finger combs your damp hair. He can’t stop kissing you, touching you.

”You’re so beautiful, are you a siren?”

You laugh, and he smiles.

“See? Like a lullaby.”

“You say that to all the girls you bed?”

He shakes his head, “only girls like you, think you’re the first.”

Buggy fluffs up your pillows, turning off all the lights.

Settling into bed he says, “I’m sure you get plenty of handsome sailors saying that.”

”Nope. Just you.”

He throws an arm around you, spooning you. He’s soft, warm, maybe exactly what you needed right now. It had been so long since you let anyone stay in your bed, and he’s pleasant enough company.

Maybe it’s the way he finds a way to get closer even in his sleep, or way he looks in the moonlight, but you feel your chest caving in. You don’t want this man to leave, and you know he will. You shed a few silent tears, feeling sorry for yourself.

In the morning, he’s still there. You stir slightly, and he sleepily kisses your cheek.

“Hey.”

”Hey, baby.”

You search his face, looking for a sign that he feels the same about you. He shies away, burying his face into your neck. You struggle for words to say, scolding yourself for being mushy for a clown.

”So, when do you cast off?”

He groans, “shit. Sooner than later, was gonna leave today.”

“Oh that’s a shame,” you admit.

He looks surprised, “oh yeah? Where you uh, hoping for another around?”

You shrug, “something like that.”

It was a one night stand, no reason to admit feelings. Besides, if he was the kind of guy to tattoo crossbones on his face, a pirate's life was truly for him. He was never gonna make his way back here again.

“I’m gonna make some coffee, don’t get up.”

He smiles, like a boy with his first crush, you figure you’re imagining it. You feel your heart threatening to crawl out your mouth, you needed to get away from him.

It had been years since you opened your heart to anyone, would a man like Buggy want something like that?

He looks so good sitting in bed like that, naked and rugged.

“How you like your coffee?”

”Sugar and cream, with a hint of coffee.”

He looks so happy to see you laugh, that he could make you laugh doing or saying anything.

You sip your coffee quietly in bed together, Buggy looking nervous the whole time. You figure he’s trying to find an excuse to leave, you’re ready to give him one. But then to your surprise, he holds your hand. Your cheeks burn, and you cuddle up closer.

”You know,” he says, “I don’t gotta leave right away. How long has it been since you been on a ship?”

”Too long.”

”Well, guess it’s time for a grand tour.”

He was a gentleman, his features softer in the daylight. As you walk across the pier, you reach for his hand to test the waters. A blush creeps up his neck, but he doesn’t let go.

The Big Top was larger than life, befitting a pirate captain like him. He leads you to an area where he kept his circus tent, it wasn’t set up, the lights and crates strewn about.

“Watch.”

He hit a switch, the lights strung above lit up like stars. Buggy watched you gaze up with delight, you catch his eye, would it be crazy to fall for him now?

You suppose you always did that, you met your first love at a port town, just like this one. They offered you a spot on his crew, before discovering they weren’t even a captain. You served together until you had money for a ship, you were made captain. Anything you wanted, you dove in head first.

”I would love to see a show.”

He loves to hear it, “you get VIP access. Free.”

”Oh yeah? What’s included.”

He hugs your waist, “front row seats, free concessions, access to the star’s personal green room.”

Your lips brushes against his, “deal.”

He didn’t move, frozen against your body. Suddenly feeling anxious, you try to back up.

He holds you tight, “I’m serious.”

”Me too.”

He kisses you again, happy as hell. You feel it coming, nervously smiling at Buggy. He looks so proud, truly born for the sea. For the spotlight.

”You should join, I can offer a private show every night.”

“I can’t. I’m a little too old to run off with the circus.”

He face falls, “oh.”

“I’m not saying no, just not now.”

”Oh!”

He was too cute, “come back, Bug. I would love to see you as much as I could.”

“How about two months? Could…could you wait for me that long?”

You found your courage, “I’ll wait for you until the end of my days.”