The Best, Flashiest Birthday Ever
Warnings: SMUT/NSFW, Established Relationship, No Use of Y/N for Reader, AFAB!Reader, Reader uses They/Them Pronouns, Reader has Chronic Pain, Birthday Smut, Soft Buggy, Buggy Shenanigans, Self-Indulgent, Kissing, Oral Sex, Spooning, Penis in Vagina Sex, Creampie, Inappropriate Use of Devil Fruit Powers, Richie is the Best Lion
Summary: It’s your birthday! Buggy wants it to be flashily perfect for you, so he pulls out all the stops to make you forget about chronic pain and celebrate your special day instead!
Characters/Relationships: Buggy/AFAB!Reader, Richie, Mohji, Buggy’s Band of Pirates
A/N: This was supposed to be posted, like, a MONTH ago as a birthday gift to myself! As such, it is INCREDIBLY self-indulgent and reader also has mobility issues/joint pain + there is shameless smut to end it all! As such, please proceed at your own risk!
Your brow furrows and you shut your eyes tighter, curling up beneath the blanket.
A flurry of kisses descends upon your cheeks, your ears, your forehead, and finally your lips. You already know who’s responsible, and when your eyes flutter open you’re greeted with his radiant smile that shines brighter than the sun itself.
“Good morning, Buggy.” You greet tiredly, reaching out to pull him close. He eagerly falls into your arms with a giddy little giggle, kissing you a few more times here and there.
“Good morning, my shining star. Are you ready?”
You smile lazily. It’s far too early for another one of his many elaborate schemes, but you love him too much not to hear him out. “Ready for what, love?”
His smile widens, the morning light through the porthole casting his bare face in a warm honey glow. “The flashiest birthday you’ve ever had, of course, brought to you by yours truly!”
For a while, birthdays had not been your thing. The cake and candles one day stopped feeling like a celebration and had started to become a reminder of all the things you used to do that were impossible now. Crowded birthday parties dwindled to inner-circle get-togethers, and those were soon replaced by cold solitude with the occasional acknowledgement from an old acquaintance. You eventually came to dread the day, then the week of, and even the entire month leading up to your birthday.
Loud and stubborn and ridiculous, and absolutely adamant that the entire crew celebrate his beloved’s special day. You weren’t allowed to decline, and he refused to let you spend a single birthday alone if he had anything to say about it. This year, though, he seems particularly excited— more so than usual.
Your smile widens to match his and you pull him a little closer with a squeeze. “Aw, how sweet. I’ll be ready if you’ll snuggle me a little, first. We’re not on a strict schedule, are we?” You give him your best puppy-dog eyes, and he melts almost instantly.
“It’s your birthday, starlight. If it’s cuddles you want, then cuddles you shall receive.” He snuggles into you to make his point, tangling his limbs with yours beneath the warm blanket. It’s the perfect way to start the day, and you’re convinced that nothing could beat a birthday spent in Buggy’s arms. Then there’s a knock at the door, and you’re shortly proven incorrect thereafter. “Finally!” Buggy shouts, launching a hand to unlock the door. With a soft creak, the door opens and the crew’s chef shuffles in with a large dish.
The smell hits you first. A mix of sweet and savory, and unmistakably breakfast-y. Your mouth is already watering when a feast-for-one is placed before you. A large, hearty breakfast bowl takes up half of the platter while the other half consists of warm, syrupy pancakes and a smaller bowl of freshly cut fruit. Buggy had clearly gone all out to make sure you had all the ingredients for such a sizable meal— that, or a good chunk of men had to give up their portions this morning. Neither scenario would be very surprising, but you opt to believe that there was just a surplus of food in favor of eating your crewmates’ meals.
“Soooo, whaddya think? Pretty flashy, huh?” Buggy holds up a chunk of fruit cut into the shape of a star to make his point. He’s adorable, hanging off your every word and reaction. He quickly shoos away the chef and shuts the door behind them, locking it with a disembodied hand before recalling it back to his wrist. Then he’s right back to being all over you, watching you with an expectant gaze that tells you he really cares about this.
“Very flashy.” You reply, leaning in and allowing him to pop the star-shaped fruit into your mouth. He happily feeds you, already scrambling to grab more fruit. It’s not often that he offers to give you the royal treatment like this, and you plan to bask in it until your birthday is over. Halfway through the bowl of fruit, you become very aware of just how much food this is. It’s nice, really, but you know for certain that you won’t finish every bite. When Buggy moves to feed you another piece of fruit, this time you gently stop his hand with your own. “Love-Bug,” you carefully take the fruit from his hand and begin to push it toward his lips instead, “wanna help me polish this off? It’s a little too much for just me.”
Buggy looks almost offended for a moment, but the gentle press of your fingers against his lips is more than enough to melt him into compliance. He eats the piece of fruit with a small nod, his cheeks looking just a little pinker than before. “You’re sure, starlight?” He asks after swallowing, and when you nod in reply he grabs an extra fork with a wide grin. Breakfast proves to be far more manageable with the help of your partner and his large appetite. You eat and chat idly about how good the food is, which leads to Buggy bragging through a mouthful of eggs about how he flashily robbed a farmer’s market for the ingredients. It’s certainly better than him starving other members of the crew to make this possible, so you reward him with a quick peck on the cheek.
Buggy is practically vibrating with excitement by the time the two of you finish your morning feast. You can’t help but feel excited too, the anticipation building as you wonder what he has planned for today. You watch as he hops out of bed and sets your empty dishes at the foot of the mattress, then makes his way to the wardrobe. He pauses, hand resting on the handle, and turns to grin at you. “C’mere!” He beckons, tapping his fingers impatiently on the handle.
“I’m coming, I’m coming.” You chuckle, easing out of bed. Your heart still feels warm and fuzzy from the morning cuddles and breakfast, but that warmth begins to drain as soon as you stand up. In its place you find a dull and persistent ache, a sensation you’re horribly familiar with by now. Your legs feel weak and unsteady, your knees threatening to buckle just from the simple task of holding you upright. It normally isn’t this bad so early in the day, especially since you hadn’t done much of anything yet. You sigh— so much for Buggy’s plans. There was little you could do to stop a flare-up at this point, and you were almost positive that whatever Buggy had in mind involved some form of prolonged ambulation. Maybe you could tough your way through some of it for his sake.
Buggy narrows his eyes from where he stands at the wardrobe. He studies you for a long moment, and just as you wince and take a shaky step forward he puts the pieces together. “Actually, I changed my mind. Sit down.” He says quickly, and you don’t even have time to argue before his hands fly over to guide you back to sitting on the edge of the bed. The rest of him walks over to you with a slight frown before he reattaches his hands.
“Buggy-“ you begin, and he immediately sticks a finger out to shush you.
“Shushushush! I know that look.”
You roll your eyes. “It’s not that bad today.”
His brow furrows, concern etched onto his face. “You say that, and you also suck at lying.” Before you can continue to plead your case, he takes a breath and marches back to the wardrobe. “No matter! Your birthday will still be just as flashy— no, even flashier than previously planned!” You sigh as he throws the wardrobe doors open dramatically, his usual smile back in place. “Starting with this!” His grin widens impossibly as he pulls your first gift of the day out of the wardrobe: a gorgeous Pierrot costume complete with pom-pom buttons, a ruffled collar, and a matching hat.
Your eyes go wide as he carries the outfit over to you, laying it out on the bed next to where you sit. Immediately, your hands reach out to feel the fabric. The suit itself is soft and breathable, and the ruff and hat are both expertly made. It becomes very apparent that this was not a casual purchase. Buggy clearly did his research, and you can’t help but wonder how in the world he, the least subtle person you knew, managed to get this without you noticing. “This is for me?” You ask, and Buggy’s eyes glimmer with excitement as he nods eagerly.
“Of course it is! You’re the star of today, and you deserve to look the part. I’ll have nothing less than the flashiest clothes and makeup for you today.” He pauses for a moment, his sweet smile morphing into a mischievous grin that tells you he has something planned already. “And because it’s your day, I insist that you allow me to do the honors of dressing you in your new gift.”
There it is. You roll your eyes and sigh affectionately. “Uh-huh, sure. And there’s no ulterior motive, I presume?” You reply, each word dripping with teasing sarcasm.
Buggy scoffs dramatically, holding his hand to his chest as though you’ve wounded him. “Ulterior motive? I’ll have you know that I’m only thinking of your best interest here!” He moves into your space, standing just in front of you before his hands find their way to your waist. “Your poor, aching body…” He coos, sliding his hands down over your hips and to your thighs. “How could I leave my one and only to dress all alone?” He gives you the most innocent pout he can muster, complete with puppy eyes that you just can’t say no to.
You consider whether it’s worth it to reward his antics, but those eyes are your undoing. With an amused smile, you shake your head. “You’re ridiculous… Go ahead, Bug.” He lets out a giddy laugh as soon as you give him permission, his fingers sliding beneath the hem of your shirt to push it up and over your head. You lift your arms to help him out, and you don’t miss the way his eyes linger on your chest as soon as the shirt is off. His hands slide down to your waistband next, and you lift your hips just enough for him to pull off your bottoms.
“Look at you,” he murmurs, leaning in to press a slow kiss to your lips. You’re quick to return the kiss, letting out a soft hum when you feel his hands give your thighs a gentle squeeze. His lips travel to your jaw next, and you chuckle as his hands slide up your sides. “You’re stunning, starlight. Gorgeous.”
“Thank you, baby. You gonna help me dress, or…?” A shiver runs down your spine. Everywhere he touches, trails of warmth bloom in his wake. He smiles against your skin in response to your question, trailing his lips down your neck.
“In a sec, sweet thing.” He rasps, and you shudder as his hands find their way to your breasts. The moment he gives them a playful squeeze, you chuckle and gently swat his hands away before the two of you end up cancelling today’s plans altogether.
“Okay, okay. Don’t we have things to do?” You reason, and it seems to pull him back to reality. He pulls away with a pouty sigh and, far more innocently this time, helps you into your brand new outfit. You finish getting ready while he dresses and does his makeup, and you think you’re ready to start the day until Buggy waves you over to where his makeup and paints are messily spread on his vanity.
He quickly turns to face you, holding up a makeup sponge in one hand and white paint in the other. “We have to finish your look!” He exclaims, gesturing for you to sit down on the edge of the bed. He quickly joins you with his supplies and a small hand mirror.
“You’re gonna do my makeup?” You ask, and he lights up.
“Like I said, my star deserves nothing but the absolute best. Now, close your eyes and let me work.”
You giggle and settle into a comfortable position, closing your eyes softly and allowing him to begin. You can hear him muttering to himself and making small noises as he pats the white paint over your face and uses the detail brush to add touches of black here and there. You can tell that he’s taking more time than what’s strictly necessary— probably because he’s staring— but you don’t mind. It’s actually quite soothing, feeling the cool paint and his gentle touch. When he pulls back after setting the makeup, you open your eyes and blink a few times. Then you notice that he’s staring at you with the dopiest smile on his face. “Admiring your handiwork?” You ask teasingly, and he shakes his head.
“Admiring you, actually.” He looks you up and down once, then twice, then giggles like a lovesick schoolgirl. “This gift was such a good idea. You’re stunning, starlight. A real vision.” Your cheeks grow warm at his praise and you can’t help but agree with him. The black-and-white costume is a perfect fit that hugs you just the right way, and the signature sad-clown makeup is an amazing final touch. Buggy looks utterly ridiculous next to you, decked out in a vibrant rainbow of sequins and patterns. Worse yet, he somehow manages to pull the chaotic look off perfectly. “No one will be able to tear their eyes away from you today, starlight. You’ll steal the show for sure.” He continues, and each sweet word from his lips stirs up more and more butterflies to make you feel all fluttery inside. It wasn’t often that he allowed anyone to outshine him, but he was more than happy to plan a whole day where you would be the center of attention.
You lean in to plant a quick peck on his cheek, and he beams at the simple gesture. “We ready to go?” You ask, and he nods happily. He looks like an excited puppy almost, and your kiss leaves a black mark right on his cheek that he wears with pride. When he surges forward to kiss your cheek in return, it leaves a matching red mark from his own makeup— your very own badge of honor.
“Get ready to have your mind blown and your flabbers gasted!” He hollers, pulling you over to the door before leading you to the deck. It almost feels like you’re a celebrity as you walk past your fellow crew members. All eyes are on you and your lover, and a pointed look from Buggy launches everyone around into celebratory applause in your honor. “Mohji!” Buggy shouts over the noise, and the beast tamer comes rushing over with Richie in tow. As soon as they arrive, Buggy gestures to Richie with a sweeping bow and clears his throat. “Richie will be carrying us around today to spare your aching legs— won’t you, Richie?” He gives a threatening side-eye to the lion, who immediately kneels low enough for you to climb on. At that, Buggy grins once more and hops on behind you.
“How sweet,” you reply, reaching to gently scratch Richie behind the ears. “Such a good lion. Thank you for helping us out, Richie.” You coo, and Richie seems to stand a little taller than usual as he rises and escorts you and Buggy off of the ship and into town. Buggy merely scoffs, and you grin. He’s adorably awful at hiding his jealousy. You reach back to take his hand, smiling sweetly over your shoulder at him. “And you’re sweet too, Love-Bug. Thank you for thinking about me.”
Buggy shrugs, a poor attempt at looking nonchalant despite his reddening cheeks. “Of course I thought about you. I think about everything. Y’know, since I’m a genius?” His words come out as more of a question than a statement, and the way he glances over at you expectantly confirms your suspicion that he’s craving your validation.
You chuckle and press a quick kiss to his knuckles. Even with all of his bravado, the fact that he cares so much about your opinion is enough to make your heart melt. “That’s right. My genius.” You reply, and he swoons on the spot. From below, a chorus of scandalized gasps and whispers draw your attention away from Buggy and to the townspeople instead.
“Is that Buggy the Clown?”
“There’s another clown with him!”
“You think their lion’s gonna eat us?”
“Someone get the marines!”
All eyes are on you as Richie parades you through the crowd, and you already know that Buggy is thriving on the attention. His chest is puffed out as he grins from ear to ear, taking pride in the sea of shocked and fearful faces before you. “That’s right!” He shouts, and the crowd flinches. “Bask in the glorious presence of the flashiest couple you’ll ever lay your pitiful eyes on!” You smile as he wraps his arms around you, pulling your back up against his chest. When he leans in to give your cheek another peck, the crowd explodes.
“Ohhh, that makes sense.”
“How did he manage to pull them?”
“Hey!” Buggy snaps, and he’s about two seconds away from having Richie tear that last person apart before you take his hand.
“They’re not worth our time, Bug. It’s my birthday, remember? No goring civilians on my birthday.”
Buggy scoffs. “But they-“
“I know,” you interrupt with a patient smile, “but they don’t know you. Not like I do. And it’s my word that matters today, right?”
Buggy glares at the bystander one last time, then sighs. “You escape with your life today!” He shouts dramatically, and you chuckle as you urge Richie to keep moving along.
Then you hear Buggy laugh maniacally.
Then the crowd disperses in screams, and you look back to see the heckler laid out and Buggy’s gloved fist flying back to his wrist. “What?” He immediately puts his hands up defensively, “You said no goring civilians, not that I couldn’t punch them. Anyway!” He continues before you can get a word in, “This town may be full of morons, but their market isn’t so bad! Just point out anything you want, and it’s yours.” He throws his arms out dramatically, gesturing around to the various stalls of clothing, trinkets, food, and other items lining the street ahead. Almost immediately, your eyes are drawn to a stall with colorful fabrics.
…The heckler is probably just fine. And even if he isn’t, you’re pirates, so there’s really no need to dwell on it.
You don’t give them another thought as Richie carries the two of you further into the market.
The sunset paints the sky with pink and gold by the time you finish your not-so-little shopping spree. Buggy now walks next to Richie, his place on the lion’s back taken by boxes and bags of birthday gifts. Buggy had treated you to all the market had to offer— new clothes, trinkets, and even a brand new set of sewing supplies were now weighing heavily on poor Richie’s back, so you guide him to one final stall before exiting the market. Buggy “buys” a large fish in the same fashion that he’s bought most of your other gifts today: negotiating the price down to an embarrassingly low deal, then outright stealing the item at knifepoint with a triumphant cackle. Richie is more than happy to facilitate your getaway, eagerly carrying the fish in his jaws the whole way back to the Big Top.
You had initially considered getting dinner in town, but Buggy had quickly turned his nose up at the idea with the argument that “every dingy restaurant here is mediocre at best,” and that you would head home for a real dinner instead. To say that you made the right decision was a massive understatement. A feast fit for a king awaited you upon your return, even more extravagant than breakfast had been, and the whole crew stood ready to applaud and cheer the moment you arrived.
In that moment, it’s almost too much to handle. Breakfast in bed, a brand new outfit, a day out shopping, and now this? Every smile from the crew, every shout of “Happy birthday!” as confetti rains around you has your heart feeling full enough to burst. Your cheeks ache from smiling so hard as Buggy helps you off of Richie’s back, making sure to stay near in case you need him. The dull pain in your legs is still present, but nowhere near as bad as it would have been if you had been on your feet all day. You turn to give Richie a good scratch under the chin, and he leans into your affection happily. “Thank you, Richie.” You whisper to him, and he gently butts his head against you with a soft chuff before stalking off to find Mohji.
Buggy’s arm finds its way around your waist next, pulling you close enough to lean on him for support as he guides you to the center of the festivities. As you draw closer to the food, you find that everything is entirely catered to your taste. No expense had been spared to prepare your favorite entrees, sides, and desserts, and you’re positive that the crew must have been working tirelessly all day to put this feast together. You’re the first to receive a massive helping from the chef, then Buggy follows. Before anyone else is served, however, Buggy guides you to your seat and rushes away to whisper-yell some instructions to the others. He’s beaming when he returns to your side, taking a seat next to you. “What was that all about?” You ask, and his grin widens impossibly.
As the rest of the crew begins to line up in front of you, you realize that this is another part of his flashy birthday plan. “Before anyone eats,” he says, “they have to give you a sincere compliment to show how much they appreciate you.” You look at the line again, watching as it stretches further and further toward the stern of the ship. The food is bound to be cold by the time the final person is served, but you give Buggy the benefit of the doubt and hope that this will be quick.
You should not have entertained this idea, you realize after the seventh compliment. It had started off sweet, with small praises like your style of dress or your skills as a sailmaker. But the moment that someone mentioned your figure, Buggy exploded. “Keep your perverted comments to yourself!” He had shouted, smacking the offending crew member before shooing them to the back of the line to try again. The rest of the line went the same way— a few nice words, something a little too nice for Buggy’s liking, and a poor crew member banished to the back of the line after being smacked upside the head. It was a little funny the first time, but soon became tedious as you forced a smile between small bites of cooling food.
Finally, when everyone had been served their portions, you’re allowed to enjoy the meal with your boisterous captain and crew. Even with its hiccups and flaws, this party is so much more than you had ever received in the past. You don’t miss the way that Buggy repeatedly glances your way to make sure you’re enjoying yourself, even sending a detached hand your way to hold while you eat. Even though his line of compliments was a bit much, it warmed your heart to see the depth of his affection so clearly on display.
You let out a contented sigh as you and Buggy arrive back at your shared quarters, locking the door behind you. The party, like most parties thrown by your crew, was still in full swing and would likely last far into the night. As sweet as it was to know that your crew felt your birthday was worth celebrating to such a degree, your legs were in staunch disagreement to staying even a moment longer. Buggy’s hand rested on the small of your back the whole way out of the party and to your room, a gentle pressure reminding you that he was there to catch you if your knees buckled. He had been nothing but supportive all day, and even now he continues to dote on you as you settle in for the night. “So,” he begins with a hopeful smile, “how was it?”
You smile through the exhaustion and aches in your joints. Today had been immeasurably fun, but it had certainly taken its toll on your body. You would definitely be out of commission tomorrow. “It was lovely,” you reply, “the best birthday I’ve had in a long while.” Buggy looks like he’s over the moon to hear those words, but his expression softens once more as his hand slides to your hip.
“And how’re you feeling? Any pain?”
You sigh softly and rest your hand on top of his, giving it a gentle squeeze. “There’s never not pain, love, but I’m okay. Just need to lay back and get off my feet for a while.” Buggy grins and brings your hand to his lips for a small kiss.
“Then lay back, starlight. Relax and let your captain take care of the rest.” He gently guides you to sit on the edge of the bed before one of his hands flies off to grab a washcloth. His other hand lifts your chin, and his sea-green eyes rove over you with admiration as his hand returns with the cloth. “Y’know,” he begins softly, “it’s been a damn miracle that I’ve kept my hands to myself today. You’re always beautiful, but something about seeing you dressed as flashily as me today…” He trails off with a little laugh, then leans in to press a slow kiss to your lips. When he pulls back, your black lipstick is smeared all over his red. You’re sure your face looks much the same with red smeared on black. “…I just wanna eat you up, sweet thing.”
Your cheeks warm at the way his voice gets a little huskier, rough in the way that very quickly has you forgetting about chronic pain and fully convinced that you won’t be able to walk straight come sunrise for an entirely different reason. “Is that an offer?” You reply with a grin, already working the hem of his shirt up with your thumbs. “You did say that this would be the best, flashiest birthday ever.”
A shiver runs down Buggy’s spine at your eagerness, and he gently begins to wipe the paints and makeup from your face with the washcloth. His hands are steady and gentle, a sharp contrast to the frantic pounding of his heart as the tension between you builds. “Is that what you want for your final gift, starlight?” He asks, and you nod as you continue to lift his shirt. You manage to get it over his head and off before his hands stop you and instead begin to undo your clothes. His eyes are dark with desire as he helps you out of your outfit, taking in every inch of skin revealed with rapt attention. Just like this morning, his hands begin to wander. You don’t stop him this time. There’s nowhere else to be for the day, nothing else to do. You’re down to your undergarments when his hands suddenly leave you. He pauses, watching you for a moment with a furrowed brow. “You’re sure about this, starlight? You said you’re hurting, I don’t want to- oh.”
Buggy goes silent, his concern withering away as you take the initiative to remove the rest of your clothes for him. He damn near chokes when you reach out and guide his hand to your chest, and you smile as he gives in to temptation and squeezes the soft warmth in his palm. “I’m sure,” you tell him softly, and he nods as his face flushes.
“Still!” He says, his voice a little higher than usual before he clears his throat, “I don’t want you to make things worse. So… you won’t have to do a thing. Just leave it all to me.”
“With pleasure,” you reply, and he feels his face heat up even more. His hands are gentle as he lays you back against the pillows, treating your body as though it’s made of the most fragile glass. Those sea-green eyes you love so much are laser focused on your expression as he searches for the smallest wince or cue to stop. He only glances down when you spread your legs in invitation, his breath catching in his throat before he refocuses his attention to your now seductive, almost smug smile.
He huffs, already stupidly aroused by something so simple. “You’re such a damn tease.” Your little stunt seems to be enough to convince him that you truly want this, because less than a second later his lips are on yours, hungry and far less gentle than his hands have been thus far.
Whatever restraint he had been exercising throughout the day is gone now, his patience fraying as his tongue slips past your lips to deepen the kiss. He tastes like dessert and booze, sweet and spicy on your tongue. You let out a soft hum into his mouth, eagerly returning his kiss and pulling at whatever clothing you can reach. It’s desperate and clumsy— you’re just as impatient and needy as he is. You feel the warmth of his breath when he breaks the kiss with a gravely chuckle, his lips moving to your neck while his hands gently guide yours back down against the bed.
“Ah-ah,” he murmurs against your neck, “I said to leave everything to me. You can ask for what you want, sweet thing.” You can feel him grinning against you before he pulls back, watching you expectantly. “Go on. Use your words for me, starlight.” A shiver runs down your spine at his words. He’s ridiculously hot, grinning all smug above you. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and you can tell that he’s enjoying every second of it. Even still, you can’t find it in yourself to play the brat and draw things out. Not tonight.
Your cheeks warm as you look him in the eyes and try to sound less desperate than you really are. “I want you out of those clothes, Buggy. Need you closer.”
A low sound of satisfaction rumbles from his chest at your plea. He plans to give you everything you want for your birthday, but he just can’t resist making you beg a little. Not when you sound so pretty beneath him. “Much better.” He replies, making a show of stripping the rest of his clothes off. The way your ravenous gaze follows his every movement leaves him feeling even more hot and bothered, and that smug confidence of his dwindles into shy desperation by the time his boxers are tossed aside. He’s already achingly hard, precum beading at the flushed tip of his cock. It takes all you have to allow him to take the lead instead of pouncing on him right here and now.
“You’re breathtaking,” he hears you sigh from beneath him, and his cheeks redden almost instantly.
“Oh, shush. This is about you. You’re the one who was turning heads all day in town.” He quickly redirects your compliment, following his words with his lips. They find yours with a sweet peck, and you giggle as you wrap your arms around him to draw him closer.
“But you are,” you argue, “you were turning heads just as much as I was. If I hadn’t been so worried about ruining the makeup you worked so hard on, I would’ve been all over you today.”
Your words and that sweet smile of yours have Buggy’s stomach swarming with butterflies. You didn’t want to ruin your makeup because he was the one who did it. Damn it, why did you have to be so irresistibly adorable and considerate? “Well… Hmph!” He huffs, “It’s your birthday, so you have to let me spoil you like you deserve.” He watches as you finally give in with an amused chuckle, nodding in agreement. That chuckle soon dissolves into a pleasured sigh as his lips find your neck again, and already his mind feels fuzzy from the sounds you’re making. Those sweet noises that are only for him, because of him. It’s enough to make his whole body feel like it’s been set aflame.
“You sound so pretty,” he whispers, trailing his lips lower this time. He peppers a few open-mouthed kisses over your shoulders before returning to the base of your neck, suckling a small mark that’s bound to bloom into a hickey later. If he had it his way, he would mark you all over. “Gonna make you scream for me, starlight.” He feels the way you shudder at his promise, hears the way your breath catches at the thought. You’re just as eager for this as he is, just as worked up and wanting. So he picks up the pace a little, moving down your body and pressing a lingering kiss to your sternum.
One hand slides to rest on your hip while his other cups your breast, and a moment later you feel the warmth of his tongue lavishing attention on the other. He lets out a soft hum against your flesh, flicking his tongue over the hardened peak of your nipple while his hand works in tandem to please you. You’re delicious, utterly addictive. Your soft gasps and the way you arch into his touch urges him to keep going, and he feels as though he could satiate his appetite just off the taste of you. The thought of tasting you elsewhere sends a hot wave of desire coursing through his body, and he decides that he can’t wait any longer. Judging by the way you’re leaning into every little touch, he’s positive that you feel the same.
He presses one final kiss to your breast before continuing his journey lower, whispering sweet nothings along the way. Soft utterances of how gorgeous you looked today, how the outfit you wore fit you perfectly.
“You looked like royalty, riding around town today.”
A kiss just below your chest.
“I was in awe of you all day.”
“All I could think about was how lucky I am, how much I adore you.”
One more, just above your thigh.
“I love you too, Bug.” You reply without hesitation, though you feel a little stuck between feeling emotional and incredibly turned on by his combination of praise and kisses. Part of your heart is melting and wants to just snuggle up with him, but a much louder part wants to see this final gift through. You manage to make up your mind as soon as you feel his lips against your inner thigh— you need him, and you need him now. “Gonna make good on your word?” You ask teasingly, and the grin he gives in response sends a shiver down your spine.
Rather than replying with words, he throws your legs over his shoulders and allows his actions to do all of the talking. There’s a brief pause as he ensures your comfort first, settling your legs in the most comfortable position he can manage. You can feel the warmth of his breath against your sex as he breathes you in, glancing up for your approval one last time. With a simple nod, you give him permission to let his tongue answer your teasing. He begins by dragging it in a languid stripe up your weeping slit, moaning at the taste of you and drinking in the way you gasp and shudder at the sensation. Your thighs squish against his cheeks as he dips his head for another taste, and your hips twitch as you feel his round nose brush perfectly against your clit.
“Honey…” You whine, allowing your head to fall back into the pillows as his tongue delves into you. He’s taking it slow, and you can’t tell if he’s trying to be a tease or if he’s just taking his time to savor you. Either way, you reach down to gently push his head closer, a silent plea for more.
And gods, more he delivers.
Buggy looks up at you with glassy eyes from between your legs, already blissed out and utterly drunk on the taste of your pussy. Then your gaze meets his and a switch flips. Lazy strokes pick up into desperate laps against your heat, the room filling with lewd slurps as he devours all you have to give. “Mmph- fuck, Buggy!” You whine, tangling your fingers in his hair. You can feel him moan into your cunt in reply, the vibrations adding to your pleasure. His eyes are still trained on you, focused on every little reaction. You look stunning like this, your expression twisting with pleasure as your hips twitch to meet each swipe of his tongue.
“Mmh,” he moans against you, “taste s’ fuckin’ good…” The words hardly have time to leave his lips before his tongue is on you again, this time flicking over your sensitive bundle of nerves. He groans at the way you cry out, tilting your hips up slightly just so he can get the perfect angle to make you squeal for him. “Jus’ like that,” he murmurs, “lemme hear ya sing for me.” The wail you let out in response goes straight to his aching cock, but he keeps all of his attention on you. His pleasure is the last thing on his mind right now— hell, he could probably cum untouched just from eating you out. He wants to show you just how much he loves to, wants to spell out his devotion with his tongue until you’re seeing stars.
You can hardly think straight when he seals his lips over your clit, suckling and lashing his tongue over the sensitive bud until your thighs tremble on his shoulders. “F-fuck!” You whimper, gripping the sheets tight with your free hand. “Right there, baby! So good- ah!” You tug his hair gently as his nose brushes against your clit again, and this time he catches on to what you’re asking for.
His eyes remain on you all the while, love-drunk and desperate for more of the beautiful sounds you’re making as his hands caress your thighs. Then his grip shifts and he gently pushes them apart, opening you further to him. “Wan’ you to cum for me,” he slurs, barely taking the time to speak before pushing his face into your sex once more. His nose presses perfectly against your sensitive bundle of nerves and you whine, already bucking your hips in search for more of that delicious friction. His hands stop you, however, anchoring you in place as he chuckles against your mound. “Ah-ah, starlight. I’m doin’ all the work.”
Your vision swims with stars as he dives back in, meeting every need before you even have the time to ask. He’s drowning in you, unable to quiet his own desperate moans as he drives you closer and closer to ecstasy. “Buggy,” you gasp his name, “I can’t hold on, love… mmphfuuuck, please! ‘M so close!” Your plea is the most beautiful music to his ears, more motivating than any amount of treasure. You’re right there thanks to him, and he’s ready to push you over the edge as he greedily laps at your slit. He shakes his head so that his nose continues to rub against your clit with the perfect amount of pressure, his eyes on you the entire time. Every moan, every gasp, every whimper— he doesn’t want to miss a thing.
And when your eyes meet his, tears of pleasure pricking at the corners, he doesn’t have to use words— his gaze says it all.
You don’t wait for him to tell you verbally. Your climax hits hard and fast the moment you allow yourself to let go, a whirlwind of pleasure that makes the room go white for a split second. Buggy drinks it all in, groaning with satisfaction as he works you through it and eagerly laps up every last drop. He doesn’t slow down until you’re whimpering and squeezing his face with your thighs, and when he finally eases up you fall boneless beneath him. You shudder as he licks you a few more times, and he presses a slow kiss to your mound before pulling back with a grin. His hands gently ease your legs back down with gentle caresses, careful not to exacerbate your pain. A sweet gesture, but that pain is the very last thing on your mind as you come down from your high.
He watches the way your chest heaves as you pant to catch your breath, almost tempted to give your chest a little more attention. The idea wins out as he moves up to kiss you, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue while his hands tenderly glide over your body. His touch helps to ground you, bringing you down from the clouds and back into the arms of your one and only. You eventually break the kiss with a smile, pulling him close next to you. “That was perfect, Buggy. Thank you.” You kiss his nose, and he shifts in a poor attempt to hide his arousal.
“Anything for you, starlight.” He replies, and you grin.
“Anything, hm? Then… can we cuddle?” It’s a horrible idea. He’s still very much turned on, and you seem very much satisfied. Then again, he’s never been able to say no to you, and he finds himself nodding anyway. It’s entirely worth it to see the way your eyes light up as you shimmy closer. “I wanna be little spoon this time, if that’s okay.” You continue, and he lets out a nervous chuckle before settling in behind you. You look so cozy, but he hesitates instead of pulling you against him. He shifts again, unsure of how best to approach the situation, and that’s when you turn to him with a frown. “Everything okay, Love-Bug?”
It only takes a moment for your eyes to travel down to his predicament, and your face warms.
“Just peachy,” he replies sarcastically, unable to meet your sweet gaze.
He huffs. “I know. But… I didn’t wanna make you feel pressured.”
Your cheeks feel like they’re on fire by now, and you reach to beckon him closer. He follows this time, and you shudder as you feel the hard length of him against your rear. “…I’m fine with another round, honey. I’d, um…” You clear your throat, “…like that a lot, actually.” You feel his cock twitch against you as soon as you say that, but he doesn’t do anything more than running his hand over your hip.
“You sure you can handle more? I don’t want to hurt you-“
“I can handle it, Bug. We can stay like this, if that would be easier?”
He groans, his hand already moving to lift and support your leg. “Fuck, I’d love that.” He immediately grinds against you, and the needy little noise that slips past his lips is more than enough to have you riled up all over again. “You let me know if it’s too much, and we’ll switch positions or stop. Whatever you need, starlight.”
You smile. “I love you, Buggy. You’re so sweet on me.” Before he can reply, you pull him into a kiss and nudge your backside closer against him. He lets out a whimper against your lips, impatiently rocking his hips against you. He can feel how slick you are, your arousal stoked by just how desperate he is for you, and it’s driving him crazy already. You’re perfect to him, beyond perfect.
He rocks against you a few more times, and you let out a soft, needy sound as he brushes against your clit with each slow thrust. Then he finally pushes in, slow at first to keep from overwhelming you. It works in his favor, too— he’s so turned on, he’s almost afraid that he won’t last long enough to please you properly. He hisses through his teeth as he finally bottoms out, letting out a low moan when he feels the way you clench around him. No matter how many times the two of you did this, he would never get used to how amazing you feel around him. “Fuuuuck, starlight… You feel so incredible, baby, so perfect. Can I move? Please?”
You whine and nod, taking a breath to steady yourself. He fills you perfectly, and he doesn’t waste any time once you give him permission to keep going. His hips draw back slowly until just the tip remains buried in your heat, then he slams home with a thrust that takes your breath away. “Oh, fuck—“ you gasp as he begins to move again, picking up a slow but steady rhythm that leaves both of you seeing stars. You’re unsurprised when his patience soon runs thin and he picks up the pace, his hips meeting your backside with a lewd slap that echoes through the room. Thankfully the party was still raging just outside, so neither of you worry yourselves with keeping quiet.
“So fucking good,” he groans into your ear, each thrust punctuated by his desperate grunts and whines. “‘S like you were made for me, starlight. Unh, fuck— like I was made for you.”
“Buggy!” You gasp his name, and he falters for only a moment before slamming into you harder.
“That’s it. Lemme hear you, baby. Love when you say my name like that.”
“Mmphfuuuuck, so good!” You reach around his head to tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging gently as you try to ground yourself. He lets out a whiny cry in response, and the sound alone has you feeling closer and closer to coming undone all over again. Buggy’s other hand detaches and moves to your front, trailing over your breasts before settling between your legs. His fingers rub quick circles over your clit in time with his thrusts, and a broken whimper escapes him as you clench tighter around his cock.
“Oh, f-fuck— so good, starlight-“ he babbles, burying his face against your shoulder as his thrusts begin to lose their rhythm.
You give his hair another tug while your other hand claws at the sheets, your second orgasm of the night drawing near. You can feel it looming just out of reach, but that gap begins to close rapidly with every tight circle Buggy rubs over your clit. “H-honey, I— fuck, ‘m gonna-“
“Cum for me,” he interrupts, and the desperation in his voice tells you he’s right there with you. “Cum for me, baby, cum on this cock. Please, fuck, cum for me.”
You feel his hips stutter as his thrusts become erratic, and the way he begs for you is the final push you need. His name leaves your lips in a breathless cry as your vision goes white for the second time tonight, your walls spasming around him as he brings you to yet another intense orgasm. The pleasure is blinding, but you ride it out with the impression that Buggy will soon follow behind you.
But he doesn’t. Even as he feels you squeezing him so perfectly, even as he whines and huffs against your shoulder, he doesn’t relent in the slightest. Tears prick at the corner of your eyes again as the pleasure continues to crest, your nerves firing over and over until you can hardly string together a coherent sentence. What you manage to get out is shaky at best, your hips bucking against his hand as he continues to overstimulate you. “B-Buggy! Fuck, fuck- ‘s too much!”
“C’mon, sweet thing,” he growls, each thrust an addictively overwhelming mix of pleasure-pain, “you can take it. Take your birthday gift, baby— you can handle it.” He huffs into your ear, chasing his pleasure as your mind melts into mush. It’s so good, too good, and you lose track of where your second orgasm blends into the third. All you know is that he’s yours and you’re his as you squirt against his hand, utterly taken by the bliss of the moment.
Your cries and the way you writhe against him have Buggy losing his mind. He’s thankful for the party outside as he groans and pants against you, reduced to a mess of moans and whines as he forces himself to last just a little longer. Anything to please you. Everything to please you. He makes it through only a few more intense thrusts before you send him tumbling over the edge, the sight of you soaking his hand making it impossible for him to hold out any longer. His grip on your leg is tight as he buries himself to the hilt a final time, a satisfied groan rumbling from his chest as he spills inside of you.
At last, the two of you still and take a moment to just be. The only movement is that of your heaving chests as you find your way through the fog of pleasure and back to reality. “Starlight…” Buggy sighs, and all you can do is lean into him breathlessly. He slowly pulls out after another long moment, making you both shudder, before grabbing the washcloth he had tossed aside earlier with his disembodied hand. His other hand carefully lowers your leg, and he smiles down at your blissed-out expression. “You did so good, my love. You okay?” When you nod, he visibly relaxes.
You’re still panting as he begins to clean you up, the rag now pleasantly cool against your heated flesh. He showers you with kisses all the while, and you can’t help but giggle breathlessly in the afterglow of arguably one of the most intense nights the two of you have ever had.
He kisses his way over your shoulders, up your neck, along your jaw, over your cheeks, and finally to your lips. There he lingers, smiling softly against you before pulling back to gaze at you with all the love in the world.
“Happy birthday, my shining star.”
You smile and give him a quick peck in return. “Thanks, honey.”
There’s a brief pause before he nuzzles closer to you, his voice a bit softer and tinged with hesitant hope. “…So, was it the best birthday ever?”
You press a sweet kiss to his forehead. “Best, flashiest birthday ever.”
He beams, that smile of his lighting up the entire room even as the sky darkens outside. “Good! Next year will be even better, even flashier! I’ll make sure of it!”
You caress his jaw, and his boisterous planning quiets to a pleased hum as he melts into your hand. Your gaze softens. “I appreciate the dedication, but…” You take his hand in yours with a gentle squeeze. “All I need is you, Love-Bug.”
He turns red almost immediately, and you kiss him one last time as you shift positions so that both of you can snuggle up under the blankets for the night.
With him around, you were certain that you’d never dread another birthday again.
