#sips & dips

[chaos-monkeyy]

A random poll for you today because I'm curious

[tomialtooth]

Where's that video of Martha Stewart talking about how for her no holiday is complete without her classic eggnog recipe and she then pours three cups of bourbon, half a cup of rum and two cups of cognac into the bowl. That's Comic making eggnog for the Sicario Mercenary company holiday party

[anti-gravity-insanity]

I’m about to experience new tastes unknown to mankind

[ittybittybumblebee]

mood swings are crazy man i was having a rotten morning and now i feel completely fine

[ri-notafan]

Let people look dumb and admit to harmless mistakes without shaming them

I was at a casual get together and we were commenting on the desserts the host had. Someone asked if we’ve ever made them before and one person said they tried but it didn’t turn out. Me and this gal were like, ‘ah, we know what happened, you didn’t _____’.

And then I, the commiserator that I am, went ‘yeah, that was my mistake too once, but at least you didn’t have [misconception of what the dessert was and therefore did two things wrong and not one], like I did’.

And the gal was just like: ‘maybe don’t say that in public’.

?????

It wasn’t a terrible mistake. It wasn’t embarrassing and it was never made a big deal when it happened. It was logical for the information that I presented. I never said what age I was when making the mistake. I also wasn’t saying I’d make the same mistake now or that it wasn’t a mistake at all. And it came up only after I’ve already admitting I knew what else went wrong for the main thing.

Let people admit they made an inconsequential mistake without shame. Let people get it wrong. Let them present themselves as a person who is fine with not being fucking perfect.

[izzy-b-hands]

On a happier note, I am enjoying having to research baby milestones for the Midwifery Charge AU (fic and nostalgia rambles below the cut)

(which at this point, thanks to the help of a good friend, I've realised is best done as a collection of lil one shots from moments in it. I just. don't have the mental anything nor the organisation to do a multichap full fic rn. Y'all know I lose steam too easily on those and just don't do them as well as I do simple oneshots. I wrote a full original trilogy at age 10 and again at like age 21; I used all my 'full multichap project' juice too early in life AND both trilogies kind of sucked ass. RIP to them may their memory never find me again let alone be a blessing but I digress)

Bc it means I get to remember all the cute shit the cousins did when I was helping raise them and like. certain bits can be used for baby in the fic even!

Like how the oldest one learned to roll over from one direction, but then couldn't replicate it going the other way, and she would just. lose her shit wailing until someone rolled her over that way. Then she was good until oh fuck oh no, she rolled over right to left again and to her lil brain it was too different from rolling left to right, she's stuck forever oh g-oh hey someone rolled her back to her tummy. neat.

We never let her sit for more than a second or two stuck (mostly to try and encourage her to. ya know. Realise that she could in fact roll herself both ways and it would be fine. Took her time but she got there lol) and I'm just

Dying at the image of the crew so carefully taking turns watching Baby (who I'm gonna reveal bc I don't think I have yet? if i have ignore me lol, is named Basilica after Izzy's deadname (he gave her the name, there's an entire Thing abt it and little moments abt his journey as a trans man tucked into this au), going by Baz for short (thank u to the aforementioned good friend for this as a nickname for the full name, bc I was struggling to figure out how to shorten it and Baz is !!! perfect!!!) )

And she's been with them longer than expected. 4-6 months is the average that I've found for when babies learn to roll over, so maybe she's abt 5 months old at this point.

Doing tummy time with Fang and she does it! Right to left rolling over, absolutely perfect, stunning, no notes, they're gonna make her a medal but-

Oh no. She's gotta roll left to right now, and instead of rolling the other way she just panics and weeps and everyone on this ship is a big fuckin softy (i get it lol, I was with the cousins) so they keep rolling her over the other way to calm her.

Until they have a crew meeting and Jim mentions Nana telling them that sometimes, babies have to just. cry for a minute or two and learn how to do the thing. You can help, but first you have to let them try and encourage them to do it on their own. (they gloss over the fact that Jim also makes clear with this anecdote that Nana absolutely would have taught a baby how to throw a knife. And honestly, is she wrong for this? who can say, not me, but I like knives and think a baby with a knife is hilarious, so I'm biased. I'm never gonna have kids, don't worry lmao.)

Cut to everyone having tummy time while the ship is docked/anchored somewhere safeish (let's be real, for the Kraken crew, nowhere is really fully safe with all the raiding they've been doing. But Ed and Izzy and Fang all know the quieter spots other ppl have forgotten that they can rotate going to for moments like this)

In a circle, around Basilica on the blanket Frenchie designed and knit for her, while she whines and cries bc goddamn it, why is rolling the other direction so hard? So scary?

And they're all lowkey trying not to cry (Ed and Izzy the most out of all of them, for varying personal reasons that all ultimately culminate in a want for Basilica to have a better childhood than they did, including the little moments/early achievements like this) while babytalking like mad, trying to encourage her to roll the other way

It's just not happening, but juuuust as Izzy is abt to break and gently roll her over, a cannon booms in the distance

And if that adorable little shit doesn't roll left to right, then again, trying to lift her head up to see where the big noise came from. She's not even crying anymore, she's just curious!

Unfortunately, said cannon is a sign they need to head out, so they have to pick her up and get her settled in Ed's room(really Ed and Izzy's room, by this point. Are they back together in a healthy way? Not really, but they're Aware of their mutual issues and are just barely talking some of them through. or starting that process, at least) for her own safety and now she's crying bc she's so mad! She wanted to keep rolling over! She was literally on a roll, how fucking dare they pluck her off the floor so easily!!

Despite the potential incoming danger of another ship, everyone is giggling as they get the ship moving. I'm envisioning it like. U know when a baby is So Mad So Incensed, they're making those angry babbles that are loud enough to hear a room away? That sound is all they can hear aside from the waves and the far off cannon fire, and it's a mood lightener. Yeah, they might be about to fight for their lives, but listen to her! She's swearing! (I do absolutely have an idea for her first word being 'fuck' thanks to Izzy lmaooo)

And they're all as excited to escape not just for their lives, but so they can lay the blanket out again and have her show off her new skill. A little soft moment in between having to fight to save themselves or raiding for more loot (and baby gear/supplies, my god not a one of them ever thought they'd be threatening ppl for additional cloth diapers but. here they are lol.)

Anyway. Eventually I'm gonna get all the snippets posted up in an ao3 collection, including the few I've already posted here. When I get that started I'll drop a link, in the meantime I'm gonna see if I can get my brain to actually finish another oneshot for this au today lmao

[plasmamembranes]

i cannOT get the Granny Cream song from hypnospace outlaw out of my head im killing myself

[ningsolo]

weeeeeee thirsty track video in 10

[stillunusual]

Sips & Dips

[princepipper]

do pip and gabe have any habits that gross the other out? or maybe foods they eat that the other person thinks are disgusting?

Hmmm yeah I guess they probably would. I mean Gabe is easy to disgust, but he's also kind of... well. Careless, for certain things. So it could go either way. I don't think that either him or Pipper are gross or really have gross habits, though.

And for foods, I remember Gabe said way back when that he thought the act of dipping Mcdonald's fries into the milkshakes was gross. But like, Pip would be into that (I actually do like it 👀 💦), as well as a lot of odd food combos that may make him grimace.

And Pipper would be grossed out at his habit of just eating anything, in any state. Owl said his method of cooking is "throwing it in a bowl and eating it", which Pip would be not okay with haha. She might combine foods together for certain tastes or reasons, but I imagine Gabe doing it in a cartoon-ish messy manner. There is a reason she prefers to cook for him, y'know.

[lvrsfilm]

Lieutenant Simon Riley has a favorite nurse. She's sweet as sugar and polite, stitching up every bloodied soldier with gentle words and touches so light they barely feel the push and pull of the suturing. Appreciative, whether they return the soft conversation or not. He likes the way she floats around the medical wing, the way she smiles softly at everyone, even him. He's sure she knows what he's been doing, but she isn't stopping him, so he assumes she doesn't mind.

Every morning, without fail she gets up and comes into the wing in a different colored pair of scrubs. A new color every day, never the same one twice in a week. She sits at the front desk or at another station somewhere around and sips a can of ginger ale through a straw, pretending she doesn't see Simon's eyes on her while she works.

"Wha's it t'day?" Simon says gruffly as he approaches her, bypassing the other nurses almost completely. "Blackberry," She says softly, looking up at him and displaying the can. He takes a look at her scrubs, and of course, they're a dark purple, matching the can. It suits her, he thinks. Not an obnoxious shade, one that matches her skin tone well. "Good?" He asks her, like he always does. "Not my favorite,' she says as she sets the can back down. He hums lowly in reply as his eyes linger on the fabric of her scrubs, the way the cloth dips over her soft curves.

"You hurt?" She asks him cheekily, "Or just taken an interest in the medical field?" He grunts, pulling his eyes away from her scrubs and meeting her own. "Nae," He says lowly. "Just passing by," he adds, shoving his gloved hands into his pockets to keep from touching her. Or reaching out to smooth out a wrinkle in her clothing, or tucking some of her hair behind her ear.

He doesn't know what else to say, wanting to keep her attention on him. "Suits ya," He ends up saying softly, trying to sound as gruff as possible, but his eyes are trained on hers, his hazel eyes staring into her own irises. "The purple." He grumbles, cursing inwardly because why is he acting like he's never spoken to a pretty bird before?

"Thank you, Lieutenant." She says sweetly, a nice red tinting the apples of her cheeks. Simon shifts his weight from one foot to the other, unsure what to say next. Small talk hasn't ever been his strong suit, but walking away feels wrong, like cutting a thread that’s barely started to weave.

"You sure you're alright?" she asks again, but this time there's something softer in her voice. A note of genuine curiosity, her hands stilling on her keyboard. "You don’t usually linger this long."

He scowls—not at her, but at himself for being so obvious. "Dinnae know I was bein’ timed," he mutters, stuffing his hands deeper into his pockets.

She chuckles, the sound low and warm. "You’re not. Just... noticed, is all." Her gaze flicks over him, quick and subtle, like she’s trying to piece him together without openly prying. She's familiar with Simon, knows how private he is. "Busy morning?"

He shrugs. "Same as usual. Training, Paperwork."

Her lips quirk upward in a faint smile, but there’s a shadow of worry behind her eyes. "Sounds like you could use a break."

"Aye," he says gruffly, a hand leaving his pocket to scratch at the base of his balaclava. "Reckon this is it."

Her smile softens at that, and for a moment, neither of them speaks. There’s a weight in the air, something unspoken that presses against his chest, and hers. He wants to say more, to keep her talking, but the words are tangled up in his throat.

"Y’know," she says after a pause, "I think purple might actually suit you too."

His brows furrow softly, squinting at her a bit behind the mask, and for a split second, he wonders if she’s teasing him. But her expression is sincere, her eyes glinting with a quiet kind of amusement.

"Me?" he scoffs, shaking his head. "Don’t reckon that’s in regulation."

She shrugs lightly, leaning against the desk. "Wouldn’t hurt to try. Maybe a mask or something. Just a little color." There’s a playful glint in her eyes now, and he feels the corner of his mouth twitch despite himself.

"Don’t think I’d pull it off," he mutters, though there’s a faint warmth creeping up his neck, hidden by the black fabric.

"I disagree," she says softly, and the weight of her gaze feels heavier than before. He looks at her then, really looks, and finds himself rooted to the spot.

"You always this cheeky with the patients?" he grumbles, trying to mask the fact that she’s gotten under his skin.

"Only the ones who hover around the nurses' station without a good excuse," she quips, her smile widening just a fraction. "But I don’t mind. You’re welcome anytime, Lieutenant."

His heart gives a traitorous thump at her words, but he swallows it down and grunts in reply. "I’ll hold ya to that," he says, his voice rougher than he intends.

As he turns to leave, her voice calls him back again, soft and lilting. "Oh, and Simon?"

He stops dead in his tracks. She’s never used his name before. Slowly, he turns his head to glance at her, his hazel eyes locking onto hers.

"Next time," she says, lifting her can of ginger ale in a mock toast, "you could at least bring one of these to share."

His lips twitch into something dangerously close to a smile. "Aye," he murmurs, his voice low. "I’ll see what I can do."

And as he walks out of the wing, he finds himself already wondering what color she’ll be wearing tomorrow.

[ebodebo]

The Bewitching

—thinking about roommate!simon riley seeing you in your halloween costume… MDNI

"Where's your sexy roommate anyway, babe?" Your friend, dressed as a sexy witch, purred from her spot on a stool around the kitchen island. You had invited two friends over to spend Halloween with you since your roommate, Simon, had to work.

"He, uh, had to work," you say, taking a sip of your wine. Your witchy friend's eyes widened as she carefully dipped a pita chip into some hummus.

"On Halloween?" She gawked, pushing the chip into her mouth, eyes wide. You also take a chip and swirl it around in the hummus before shrugging.

"Seems so," you say, inhaling the chip. You turn to pull open the fridge, reaching for a bottle of champagne. Once you turn back, you see your other friend dressed as a sexy police officer, head slightly titled in confusion, her eyes carefully observing your costume.

"So, what are you supposed to be? A sexy nurse?" She questions. You raise your brows, perplexed that she couldn't tell who you were.

"You're kidding, right?" You urge, waiting a minute before continuing to see if she is joking. She shakes her head no, pursing her lips. You shake your head in disbelief. "Debs, I'm one of the nurses from Silent Hill."

"Should've gotten Simon to dress as pyramid head," your sexy witch friend instantly says. You flick your eyes to hers to see a smirk spreading on her lips.

"Oh, please," you laugh out. "Over his dead body would he ever willingly dress up." You take a sip of your wine, stalling when you hear the sound of a familiar truck pulling into the driveway.

"Oh, looks like your big guy is home," Debs winks. You roll your eyes, set your wine glass down, and head for the front door. You step out to see Simon searching for something in his truck.

"Hey," you greet. "What're you doing back so early?" He doesn't avert his attention from some loose papers he was scanning over.

After a minute, he says, "Price had a Halloween thing for his kid." He continues sifting through loose papers. "So, here I am," he dryly says, eyes still focused on the papers.

"Okay. FYI, the girls are inside—" You start before he interrupts, finally turning around to face you.

"If you want, I can just go to a bar, or—" He abruptly stops, eyes wandering down your body, taking in your costume—which included a very provocative dress. He swallows deeply as his eyes sweep over your exposed thighs, up to the deep dip of your breasts on display.

"Simon?" You prod, trying to understand why he has stopped speaking. He drags his eyes up to look into yours.

"You—what are you supposed to be?" He lazily questions.

"Um, a nurse," you say; he tilts his head to the side.

"Never seen a nurse look like that," he sticks his tongue out to wet the seam of his dry lips. You feel a sudden rush of embarrassment.

"It's from a—a game," you quickly say, rocking back on the heels of your feet. "It's kind of stupid," you turn your head away from him, trying to hide some embarrassment from his gaze.

"I like it," his eyes shamelessly drag down the length of your body. You flick your eyes back to him, offering him a small smile, noting the way his eyes become darker as the seconds pass.

"Ya?" You're shocked that you managed to get a word out since your mouth had turned to ash. Dry as a bone.

"Mhm," he hums as he takes a step towards you. You swallow hard as he steps closer to you, close enough for his fingers to graze the hem of your dress, tugging it down gently so it covers a little more of your thighs.

"Simon," you breathlessly say as you feel his fingers graze your bare skin.

"Dress ridin' up a little high," he murmurs, though he doesn't take his fingers away from you. He looks down at you, taking in your lazily closed eyes. "Have you gone out yet?"

"Wha—no. Didn't really want to," your tone is a little wobbly now as his hand slowly skimmed under your dress. You release a shallow breath.

He tilts his head back slightly. "No? What is it you wanted to do then?" He continues his movements, skimming his fingers up your thigh, slowly maneuvering between them. You find yourself gripping his shoulders. "Huh?" He tuts.

"I don't—I don't know," you choke out, dropping your head slightly as his hand grazes your cunt over your already wet underwear. You find yourself pushing yourself into his palm.

He leaned in closer to you, his hot breath grazing against the shell of your ear. "Did you want me to see you in this little outfit?" He whispers. You lean into his words flowing in your ear. "You knew how badly I wanted to touch this pretty pussy. Didn't you?" You let out an involuntary moan at his words, tightening your grip on his shoulders.

His pointer and middle finger slip into you through your underwear, grazing your clit. You find yourself rocking against his fingers to get more friction. "Ah, fuck. That's it, pretty girl," he groans, moving his fingers faster. "Keep fucking my fingers—just like that."

He pulled you closer onto him with his other hand, gripping your ass tightly to get you more friction. You leaned your head into his chest, moaning as his fingers continued to move in you.

"Fuck, baby. Look at me—look at me," he commands. You flick your head up to look him in the eyes; his mouth is slightly parted from panting. "Just like that," he pants, watching your mouth agape as he coaxes your orgasm, making you come in your underwear.

He holds you up as your body spasms, gifting him with the sweet mewls you spew. Once your orgasm subsides, he grips one side of your soaked underwear, slipping it down your thighs and tucking it into the pocket of his cargo pants he wore.

You look up at him, doe-eyed, before you look around in horror. "Oh my—you just, you just fingered me in the front yard," you frantically say, taking a step away from him. His lip quips at your genuine anguish.

"I know. I was there," he monotonously says. Anxiously, you bring your hands to thread through your hair. Your eyes widen even more.

"Oh my—my friends," you exclaim, whipping your head to your house.

"Guess you'll have some explaining to do," he casually says.

"Fuck you," you remark.

"Hungry for more already?" He smirked, pulling you by the arm closer to him so you rested flat against his body.

"No—you know that's not what I meant!"

a/n: happy almost halloween! take my treat to u all! divider!

reblogs & comments are encouraged!

[peachsayshi]

thinking about this sukuna au: baby daddy!Sukuna on his redemption journey, who knows he fumbled the bag with you. who is now clean, and keeping on the straight and narrow. who dotes on his daughter like she’s the most sacred thing he has ever seen. who is making an effort on ensuring that you two have a solid and steady relationship. who hasn’t had a sip of alcohol, a blunt, or sex in four years.

you guys had a good thing. he knows he fucked it all up. but he’s trying.

he swapped out bar fights to teach at the gym. spends most of his time with his daughter. brushes off the many, many women who flirt with him.

and the thing is, he’s a good dad. like, a really good dad. you thought he wouldn’t be because he was a terrible boyfriend.

well, not terrible for the most part but difficult.

the terrible part was him was him making out with a stranger while piss drunk.

that part hurt.

but he’s grown up a lot. changed. a lot.

doesn’t even mind that you’re dating someone else right now, even though you can see the jealousy written plainly on his face. old sukuna would have instigated problems, but new sukuna keeps his snide remarks solely for your ears alone. he’s polite, cold but polite, whenever your date rolls around to pick you up while he stays over to watch your daughter.

you can’t help but feel a flutter in your chest when he shoots a message telling you to text if you need a getaway for any reason. and you don’t know that he secretly hopes you will every single time.

you ponder a second chance with him often. think about it when you watch his daughter play dress up with him. when he gives her mini boxing lessons. when he brushes aside his little successes of recovery like it’s no big deal when it’s an extremely big deal. when the two of you converse and you notice his eyes naturally dipping to your lips, or neck…

would it be so bad to just try again?

[planetsage]

NEW PIN ! ꒰ 🌱 INTOLEWD 𖧧˚⋆ʚɞ ── kento nanami . . . SAVE ?

“you’re a kind of angel, dancing by the table, i was doing fine till i met you”

contains. nsfw so, minors and ageless blogs do not interact. f!reader, dirty talk, fingering, pussy slaps, “good girl,” squirting. cheating. mentions of age gap.

“awwh, my sweet thing. loosen up for me, baby” the palms of nanami’s large hands rub and soothe over your pussy. cupping, caging in your warmth like a little dove. with care, covering your entire cunt before dipping a thick knuckle back into your walls. “you were acting so needy earlier, baby, let me in. cmon, let me in that pretty pussy”

the sounds you’re making are just filthy and nanami drinks them in like that very first sip of morning coffee pushing past pursed lips. your body falls limp like a pretty rag doll against the broadness of his chest, caving into his warmth as you weakly grab and paw at the blades of blonded bahia on his wrist. scratching the polished metal of his watch “w-wasn’t begging, ken”

a laugh rumbles from deep in his chest with no other purpose but to make you feel so small in him. heat threatening to burn the flushed skin on your cheeks right off. “so grindin’ on my thigh like a needy mutt isn’t beggin’? was finishing up some work and you couldn’t even wait, baby. kept pressin’ that needy little clit on me.” his voice vibrates thick vocal chords, producing a rasped melody that lingers and releases a kaleidoscope of butterflies in your stomach.

“no i- aah!” another finger slips into your cunt, curling up, scissoring against your wet walls.

“there it is. riiiight there. that’s where you want me, huh, baby?” he’s pushing against that swelled spot he knows you love more than life itself with the lined sensitive tips of his lengthy fingers making your brain mush.

your thighs part instinctively, your neck failing, making your head dip and fall to watch how lewdly his fingers disappear into the folds of your fat cunt, “see look. so messy, but i barely started touching you. was this already here?” he pulls at the strings of webbed silk that drip out your cunt, “got all wet grindin’ on me, hm? left me a little present?” he coos at you from behind your neck. the blushed tip of his pointed nose brushes against warmed skin softly when you buck up and whine. “poooorr thing,” he drags, “what’s wrong? want me to fuck you? want me to stretch that little pussy out? talk to me, baby”

and you just can’t because your jaw slacks at the curve of his finger dragging and massaging against your fluttering walls. his thumb moves to draw his name on your clit, to soothe his existence onto every inch of your body so you’d never forget how he makes you feel, groaning at how you squeeze and hug him.

“uhn uh, i asked you a question,” slap “i expect” slap “an answer”

your clits throbs at how he swats down on your pussy, “hnngg— want it, want it so bad” you whine. thrashing in the solitude of his warmth. he eggs you one with a “yeah?” moving back to press up against your clit, “what are you, baby? tell me and i’ll give you what you want. you remember, hm?”

he sweetly kisses the hairs on the back of your neck, little pins poking across the length of your body. you give him a nod and a whine and he smiles at both, “y.. your good girl. i’m your good girl, ken.”

“mhm, always so good for me, yeah? now let me make you feel like it, pretty” his lips press against your neck, again, then he’s licking and whispering into your caved ear as he lets his fingers sink back into your pussy, “give it to me, make a mess for me”

he moves to hold down the curve of your hip, ”yeeaa, my twitchy little thing, cmon” stilling you as his fingers rush deep, deep inside you, reaching places only he can.

your knees fight and knock against each other and he pushes against the mound of your tummy, coaxing you to give him want he wants. make him proud. and you do. throwing your head back against the strength of his angled shoulder as you squelch and squirt on fresh fitted sheets, “ohhh, fuck baby. mhm, juuustt like that. let it all out”

he hums and encourages you while his fingers move out to messily rub at your clit and your body feels like it’s engulfed in angry blued flames, eyes squeezing so hard the darkness is punctured by coils of swirling colors.

tears brim as you come down and they fall when you finally peel your lids back open, nanami kissing you so gently you melt like warmed wax but harden and mold back into him.

“ino ever make you feel this good? does he make this pretty pussy squirt like that, hm?” he pets at your head as it shakes, then at your pussy before moving to lap up the mess you made on his fingers. “that’s okay, my dove. just need someone older, more experienced to take care of you. that’s what i’m here for”

© planetsage 2024 all rights reserved. no part of this may be reproduced in any form.

[ornateorchid]

simon riley is such a baby when he's sick :((

he wakes up in the morning drenched in sweat, throat all dry and sore, nose runny and congested, and his body felt like it got ran over.

and he needs his darling to care for him.

simon walks out of the bedroom after realizing you were already up. he finds you in the kitchen putting a tray in the oven, and he clears his throat of mucus to get your attention.

"oh, morning simon," you say with a smile when you spot him, "i just put some muffins in the oven, they'll be ready in a-"

your sentence is cut off when you notice his pale, sickly face. "simon, baby, what's wrong? you look sick? are you feeling well, darling?" you rush towards him, resting the back of your hand against his forehead to check his temperature.

"i think 'm sick," he coughs.

you frown, "you poor thing, you're burning up. go lay down, i'll make some tea and bring you some medicine."

he obliges, clearing his throat as he walks towards the couch. you follow him in the living room soon after with a box of tissues, a damp cloth, a cold bottle of water, and a few pills.

"drink up," you say as you hand him the water and pills. you brush the hair off his forehead and place the cloth on his forehead. simon sighs and leans back against the couch after taking the medicine.

"my poor baby," you mutter as you run your fingers through his hair. "lay back and rest your eyes while i go get your tea," you kiss his clammy cheek before standing up and walking towards the kitchen.

simon watches you go with droopy eyes before resting his head back against the couch. he only realizes that you're back when he feels the couch dip beside him.

"your favorite," you say as you hand him a cup with steam billowing out the top, "i got the muffins out the oven, too. they're cooling off."

he hums and takes a sip of his tea before setting it on the coffee table. "c'mere," simon mutters, his voice raspy. he wraps his arm around your waist and drags you onto his lap. "such a sweet thing, caring for me," he murmurs against your neck.

"you know i love it," you say as you run your hands through his hair. "now rest, i'll wake you up when i have food for you."

he nods and nuzzles his head against your chest, sleep overcoming him quickly due to the comfort of your love and warmth.

he's just a guy who needs someone to care for him and love on him :((

[yourtamaki]

rip my ribcage open (devour what’s truly yours)

zoro x f!reader

word count: 2.1k

warnings: tummy-pusher zoro, squirting, oral (f!receiving), overstimulation, prone bone, chokehold, slight breath play, creampie, violent imagery, religious imagery, bit of aftercare.

zoro thinks you might be trying to say his name.

he’s knelt between your legs, sitting back on his haunches and rocking his hips just enough to fuck you with the fat tip of his cock. there’s a rhythm to the unsteady rise and fall of your chest. short inhale, long exhale, the same way you always sigh his name when he’s reduced you to this.

tears dotting your lashes, drool seeping from the corner of your mouth, hips bucking mindlessly trying to get him to slip in deeper.

fuck, you’re hungry for it.

zoro is not a man of many indulgences. he doesn’t allow himself to be. having too many vices can only lead to a weak mind and an even weaker will. he eats but he does not savour, he sleeps but he does not dream.

but he’d be a shit swordsman if he didn’t understand the balance in all things. denying himself all of life’s comforts would make for a rigid spirit, brittle and easily broken. so he’ll sip on some sake and enjoy its fire in his belly, he’ll nap on sunny’s deck so when he wakes, it’s to the sight of his crew set to the backdrop of the setting sun. and when the sun dips below the horizon, there’s nothing to stop him from finding you in the dark and pulling you into a hungry kiss.

that balance is what makes nights like these all the better. knowing that having you like this, spread open and vulnerable, is good for him. that you’re making him a better man, a stronger man, just by letting him take you apart and make a mess out of you. there’s no need to resist the temptation now of bending low to press his lips to your trembling ones in a slow, ravenous kiss.

you taste like need and the sweetest of sins and he licks at the roof of your mouth, knowing he’s damned himself long ago to crave you for as long as he lives.

"if you want something, you have to ask,” he says, pulling back and idly groping at your tits, pinching your nipple when you don’t answer. you throw your head back at the sudden sensation and a wild heat blooms in his chest at the sight, scorching his ribs. how easily you bare your neck for him. how thoughtlessly.

"please, zoro, please. want you deeper, i wanna feel you here,” you take his hands, sliding them down your body until they come to rest on your lower stomach. irritation, sharp and sudden, cuts through his haze.

“don’t fucking beg,” he says, low and even, “you don’t have to beg. ever.”

it’s so far beneath you to plead, he has to swallow down the growl building in the back of his throat. zoro would topple empires for you, would cut the very moon in half if you asked, and you think you have to beg him for anything?

he doesn’t wait for you to nod before he starts pushing in. it doesn’t matter if you understand yet or not, he’ll fuck it into you until you do.

there’s a moment after he’s bottomed out inside you where neither of you move a muscle. he grits his teeth from the effort of holding on to the frayed rope that is his restraint and letting you get used to the wide stretch of him. ages pass before you reach up, slowly as if to not startle the beast above you, and cup his face in your soft palm. you stroke your thumb across his cheek, just on the edge of his scar. your touch is warm and gentle and cracks something inside him wide open.

the rope slip from his fingers. he lets it.

there’s no warning, no build-up before he’s pressing both palms down on your stomach and fucking into you. you reach up to hold on to any part of him, settling around his neck, a balm on his flushed skin even as your nails dig and bite into him.

“you feel that? hmm?” his smile feels jagged and sharp, more demon than man but you only moan at the sight of it, “you feel me in there?”

it’s a strange sensation, feeling himself carve a space inside you, the push and pull. it’s filthy and more intimate than it has any right to be and he fucking loves it.

“fuck, feel you i feel—” a rough thrust cuts you off and when you catch your breath, you’re still rambling, “—so good, you’re so good.”

zoro’s been called many things in his life but good isn’t one of them. it’s never bothered him before. good men don’t claw their way up in the world and leave a trail of slaughter in their wake. good men don’t scream at the heavens and demand to be heard.

zoro is not a good man. but he can be good. to you. for you.

“breathe, baby,” he says, “don’t forget to breathe.”

he presses down a bit harder and your reaction is instantaneous, legs kicking out, the tears that have been threatening to spill over since he stuffed a pillow under your hips finally sliding down your cheeks. you take him so beautifully and something barbed wraps around his heart and squeezes at the sight, shredding him to bloody pieces.

he knows you’re close before your eyes start to flutter, can feel it building like a storm inside you and chases your pleasure with reckless abandon.

“zoro.”

short inhale, long exhale. his name a sigh on your parted lips as you clench tight around him and cum. he doesn’t stop moving for a second, doesn’t let up the pressure even as he feels you gush all over him, soaking his cock, his thighs, his stomach. his strokes stay sure and steady as he fucks you through your high.

you shudder beneath him before relaxing back into the bed and he slows to a stop to let you catch your breath. it hurts to look at you, all divine and fucked out. it’s a sight too holy for a hellbound man like him to behold but he drinks it in anyway, burns it into his mind. 

what’s one more sin to a demon?

zoro slips out of you with a hiss through gritted teeth, taking a moment to admire the creamy ring around his base, your arousal and cum still dripping off him. you’ve marked him as yours and yours alone without even trying and his cock twitches at the thought.

“no why?” you whine as he pulls back further, “give it back.”

“turn over,” even as he speaks, he’s manhandling you until you’re laid out on your stomach, hips propped up with the pillow he takes care to push under you. zoro kisses down your spine before settling between your spread legs and greeting your cunt with a broad stroke of his tongue, “i ever tell you that you taste good like this?”

“like- mmm fuck,” you say, all breathy as he circles around your swollen clit, “like what?”

“stretched out,” he murmurs, “open.” 

you’re past the point of words as he grabs two handfuls of your ass, spreads your sticky lips open with his thumbs and buries his tongue inside you. he savours the sweet little gasps you let you like the finest sake, groaning into your pussy as you start to rock your hips and grind your clit against him. he can’t catch a full breath, thinks he might be suffocating, and moans a bit louder.

a swarm of words bubble up hot and fast in his lungs, taking up space where breath once lived. half-formed thoughts try and fail to take shape in his mouth, weighing down the tongue that makes you writhe in the sheets. 

he can’t bring himself to speak but if he could, he’d show you. zoro wants to crack his ribs open so you can see the bloody wreckage you’ve caused, let you crawl in and keep you safe next to the heart that’s always, always, been yours. he’d probably burst into flames with so much goodness inside him but that’s alright. at least he’d keep you warm.

the words stay trapped where they are though and all he can do is all he’s ever known how to. he goes to work. zoro is singleminded in his task, fingers digging into the fat of your ass to keep you still while he devours you whole and it doesn’t take long before he’s pushing you off the edge he never let you stray too far away from.

he laps at your folds until you start to squirm away, crawling up the bed and away from him. he lets you put a bit of distance between you, lulls his prey into thinking it’s escaped before he pounces. between one breath and the next, zoro’s on you, draped along your back, licking at the sweat that beads down the nape of your neck. you arch into him, pushing back against the hardness digging into your ass before he rests his weight down on you, forcing you flat on your front.

“where do you want me, baby?” he asks, kissing behind your ear, “tell me where you want me.”

in this moment and in all others, zoro would do anything you told him to. you could make him hump you like an animal until he cums and lick your skin clean or stand across the room and jack off by himself with nothing but the lingering taste of your pussy to help him get off. he’d do it and he’d do it without an ounce of shame.

“want you inside,” you slur, “wanna be full.”

his entire being in the palm of your hands and you choose to be merciful.

“you sure?” he lifts up off you just enough to get a hand around his base and nudge his tip against your clit, “not too sensitive?”

“yeah, pl- i can take it.”

his grin is all teeth when he hears you correct yourself, “that’s my fucking girl. stay still, baby. let me take care of you.”

you’re soft and slick from his spit and two orgasms and when he bottoms out all at once, it’s with a low groan in your ear that echoes behind your breathy moan. sinking back inside you feels like rapture, like something he’s done nothing to deserve but basks in anyway with an endless greed.

he wraps his arms around you, one across your front groping at your chest while the other hooks around to put you in a headlock, keeping you pressed flush to him as he starts to rock into you. zoro is quiet in his worship, purposeful, and you’re nearly as quiet in receiving it, the room filled only by your soaked cunt and ragged breathing. though you don’t say anything, he can hear you loud and clear.

short inhale, long exhale.

a holy call he’s helpless to answer.

zoro fucks you to the rhythm of his name, short, devastating thrusts with his whole weight thrown behind him. he wants to live in this moment, could spend the rest of his days with his cock dragging along your walls slow and sure, relishing the way you tighten like a vice around him every time he flexes and cuts your air off mid-gasp.

but he swore an oath at your altar and zoro has always been a man of his words.

he cums with a sigh of your name, spilling inside you for what feels like ages before he collapses over you boneless and spent, his softening cock keeping you plugged nice and full just like you asked so sweetly for.

“you okay?” he asks, pulling out as gently as he can and helping you roll over when your trembling arms make it clear you can’t do it on your own.

“mhmm,” you pull yourself up until you’re nose to nose with him. zoro holds still as you scatter kisses across his face like stardust. his temple, his scar, the corner of his mouth. there’s no order, no pattern he can discern to the affection you bestow but he accepts it the way all blessings should be received. with silent gratitude.

“nothing hurts?” 

“no. but you’re carrying me to the bath.”

“okay.”

you tuck yourself into his side, reaching up to idly roll his earrings between your fingers, “and washing my hair.”

“okay.”

“and i’m gonna wash your hair.”

“okay.”

“say something else.”

he thinks for a moment, thinks of all he could never put to words and lets them stay as thoughts. instead, he meets your eyes and settles on a simple truth, “you’re beautiful.”

a smile, radiant and bright, breaks across your face. what happens, he wonders, when a demon is the cause of something as divine as your smile? it’s a question he doesn’t mind spending his life searching the answer to. 

dedicated to: mah wife @katslutski and the loml @saotoru