an: short cause i just wanna get back in the rhythm, yknow?
It’s not that you liked Buggy because he was pathetic, but you would be lying if that wasn’t part of his charm.
The way he would come up behind you while you helped with the dishes, wrap his arms around you as if he just wanted a little bit of love, only for you to feel a tap-tap-tap of his jumping cock on your lower back, was almost endearing. Of course, you couldn’t deny your captain. So you would always let him scoop you up to take you to his quarters, the fairy lights and red-and-white stripped drapes that hung in the halls providing a landing path that always ended with you being thrown onto his ridiculous circular bed that almost seemed more pillow than mattress.
You would giggle demurely as Buggy took his time, planting little kisses on your cheeks and neck, leaving bright red marks from his lipstick, moving down to undo your shirt if only to give you more little smooches on your goose-bumped skin. He’d call you flashy, say it wasn’t fair for you to tease him like that, even though all you were doing was existing. He’d let his nose trail down your chest to your solar plexus, before his capable hands deftly undid your pants, pulling them down to your ankles along with your underwear. Being so agreeable, you raise your hips to help him with his task.
You’d kick off the bottoms, wanting to play nice, as you watched Buggy undo his own pants, letting them drop so he could step out of them and be unencumbered. Of course, you’d laugh a bit at his shirt-only outfit, but the eagerness was endearing. He’d take off his white gloves with his teeth, and toss them aside, only to spit in his palms, one immediately going to his cock to start pumping himself, a sticky string of pre-cum already dribbling to the floor. His other spit wicked hand would find its way between your legs to get you ready for him. And because this was your captain, you found your knees always spreading so easily for him. How embarrassing.
What you would always notice, however, is that Buggy seemed to really enjoy fucking his own fist, and even as he palmed your sex, wanting to get you ready for him, his little pants gave away how close he was to cumming. You figured he was a fan of edging, curling your finger to coax him closer to you.
Buggy would kneel on the bed, and line up his leaky tip with your hole, almost shuddering in anticipation. The moment the turgid head met your nerves, heard Buggy gasp, and you could feel the warmth of his premature ejaculation leak down onto the bed along your skin.
Fuck, he looked so embarrassed. But maybe that was part of it for you. As he huffed, smiling with chagrin that his body would betray him like that, you would give him a kiss on the cheek, and gather your clothes to clean yourself up. The lipstick on your chest was rather sweet, though, so maybe you’d leave that for a bit.
With how often this would play out, you weren’t sure if maybe he should see a doctor, but what you did know, is that Buggy would repeat this little humiliation ritual many times over. Of course you would eat it up every time. He was your captain.
