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#hearty smiles
tarlosmalec · 8 months
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“It’s yours.”
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blythebewitched · 2 months
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Meemaw's Friend: Smiling Critters Oneshot
It was a cool night in early spring. The sky was clear and the farm was quiet. Picky laid in bed still half awake. She couldn't shake the thought of work the next morning. There was so much to do in time for the spring festival. Her and her meemaw went every year. It was one of their favorite things to do. 
The thought of exhaustion and excitement stirred in her mind making it impossible to sleep. She knew meemaw would be angry if she didn't rest. But what does one do to fall asleep with an overactive mind? Picky thought back to her friends Bubba and Dogday, who practiced breathing when they needed to be steadied. 
She turned from her side so that she was on her back. Slowly, Picky inhaled, waited, exhaled and repeated. By the fifth time she inhaled, something caught her noses attention. It was . . . Smoky. Burning wood. Easily, she could tell it was meemaw's stone oven. She sat up and let her nose follow the scent. There were hints of something cooking. 
What was meemaw doing up at this hour cooking? Meemaw had said earlier in the day that she would be back late. She expected her grandma to go to bed after a long day of errands. Not wanting her poor grandma to overwork herself, Picky got out of bed and traveled to the hall. 
Walking down the hall, Picky caught more smells from the kitchen. Honey, cheese, tea. And something like cedarwood. When she got to the stairs, she peered into the kitchen. To her surprise, it wasn't JUST her grandma she saw. 
The Phoenix in her grandma's kitchen was tall. Long hair, colorful and his voice was soothing as he laughed. He was helping Meemaw put away some dishes as she herself was checking the food. 
“Meemaw? Who's that?”
Both heads swiveled in her direction. “Picky! Sweet Potato. You scared me.” Meemaw put a hand on the boys shoulder. “This is Sunny. He's been super helpful with the errands today.”
Sunny. The name struck a bell in Picky's head . . . Dogday mentioned a brother. Sunny was his name. It shouldn't have been surprising to her that Sunny is a bird. Kickin was their younger brother. 
Picky extended her hoof out and he took it. “Nice to meet ch'ya.” 
“The pleasure is all mine. DD spoke about you. Sorry for the late stop by. Did I wake you?”
“Naw. I been up anyway. Though I am curious about it? Meemaw? It's eleven! We got work tomorrow.”
“Oh! Speaking of work tomorrow, Sunny here has volunteered to help us. He's never been to the festival before!” 
The revelation made Picky's jaw drop! “How have you never been!?” Picky ran up the stairs to the bookshelf in the hall. Quickly, she grabbed the photo album and ran back down. She grabbed Sunny's wrist on her way and sat them both at the table. Flipping through the pages, she landed on the section filled with photos of their trips to the festival.
Sunny looked up at Hearty through his eyebrows confused. Hearty chuckled. “Usually its just me and Picky who go. I knew she'd be excited if I invited you.” As the two went over the memories of past trips, Hearty pulled out the treats from the oven. She placed two treats each on small plates and poured tea for everyone at the table. 
Sunny had always volunteered at the senior center. Earlier in the day she had seen him and decided to speak to him for the first time. When he mentioned never going to the spring festival, she thought inviting him to stay would help him make some friends his age. And there was no one better suited for that than her beloved granddaughter. 
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florapot · 2 months
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the raven-julien-donald trio is KILLING me i need to know more. they all knew each other but have all 3 of them ever been in the same room together?? did they know,, none of them thought of themselves as heroes but did think so of each other,, all of them tried to give as much of themselves as they could
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voltas-do-mar · 3 months
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i would often go there / to the tiny church there the smallest church in saint-saëns
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fridge-04 · 5 months
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A not insignificant percentage of photos I have of myself on my phone are just me holding chicken
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chrissshub · 2 years
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Mis Chris do you have an answer to why your so
Fuck foineee
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meeeee??? you think I’m fine????
ugh pls you are too kind bby 😭❤️
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babybeel · 2 years
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— @kovjiro x diavolo!
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ittybittybumblebee · 5 months
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someone sent u a cat last night so heres another one hehe
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HELL YEAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH THANK YOU. CAT PICTURES, . WHAT A BEAUTIFUL WORLD . WOAWWWWW ❤❤👍😁😁😁😁
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“I’ve never cum before.”
Your shy admission from earlier that day swirled about in Simon’s mind, and the more he thought about it the more he just couldn’t believe it was the truth.
So he made it his sole mission that night, to make the woman he’d had feelings for years for cum, just for him.
He wasted no time in taking you to his quarters, slowly and gently ridding you of your clothes. When he finally set eyes on your naked frame, he was truly convinced you’d ruined him for anyone else. He’d be yours until his dying breath.
He’d make you cum for him, if it was the last fucking thing he did on this earth.
You were a sweaty, writhing mess beneath him and Simon couldn’t get enough of it. The taste of you, your scent, the softness of your skin and the fucking way you sounded had Simon’s brain in a daze.
“Oh, oh my god.” You cried out, your fingers digging harshly into your lieutenants scalp. The pleasure he was giving you was unlike anything you’d ever experienced before. A burning heat began to fill your insides, as a tingling feeling spread across your abdomen.
You felt yourself clench at the sensation, your thighs tightening around Simon’s head causing him to moan against your soaked core. His eyes lifted to you as he licked a firm strip through your folds, groaning at the taste.
“Simon!” You cried out, your fingers tightening their hold on his hair. “Please, please!”
He gave a hearty chuckle in reply, his fingers and tongue increasing their pace as wet, lewd sounds from his mouth and your pussy filled the air. It was sinful just how fucking good at this he was.
Simon watched as your eyes rolled into the back of your head, your pretty lips parting as you let out a strangled cry of pleasure. The sight was euphoric, and had Simons cock aching.
He needed to be inside that pretty little pussy of yours, but he was a patient man. He wouldn’t give you his cock, not until he made you cum on his tongue first.
He pulled his face away for only a moment, throwing you a small smile as his fingers continued their assault on your core. “You gonna cum, pretty girl? I can feel you clench around my fingers, I know you’re close. Just let go, be a good girl and cum for me.”
You whimpered in reply, the tight feeling in your abdomen only growing at your lieutenants words. You’d never felt this before, never felt so weightless. You allowed yourself to focus on the sensations of Simon’s tongue, as it dragged through your soaked folds, and his fingers, pumping and curling against your walls. “I-I can’t.”
“You can, good girl. Just let go, I’ve got you.” Simon groaned into your heat, his hands squeezing reassuringly at your plush thighs. “Cum, now.”
It was as if an invisible cord snapped in your belly, as a feeling of complete and utter weightlessness filled your body, a pleasant buzz tingling inside your blood. It was unlike anything you’d ever felt. You let out a soft cry, your eyes rolling back into your head as you began to shake against your lieutenants grasp. “Oh, oh my god!”
“Fuck, that’s it. Such a good fucking girl for me.” Simon pulled away from you, his mouth glistening from your arousal. The sight had the pleasant burn in your belly increasing. He looked so fucking hot.
“Simon.” You breathed, struggling to regain your senses. He made his way to you, crawling so that he was now hovering over you, a smile dancing on his lips as he looked down at you.
“You okay, sweetheart?” Simon cooed, pressing a gentle kiss to your sweaty forehead. “You were so fuckin’ good for me.”
You gave a weak nod, not trusting yourself to speak in that moment. You let your eyes flutter open, and found Simon looking at you intently, his lips parted ever so slightly.
You let your eyes flicker down, and saw Simon stroking at his impossibly hard cock. The sight made your mouth water, and had that invisible coil forming in your belly once more.
“You think you’re up for cummin’ again, love?”
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frogchiro · 3 months
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Maybe an unpopular opinion but a domesticity kink + dry humping is one of the best combos out there EVER
Like imagine this big, strong, burly man like Price or Simon or Graves being absolutely wild and soft for you, the pretty housewife that drives a man crazy♡ All soft curves, nice ample breasts and soft, broad hips with a pretty floral apron tied around your waist as you cook a nice hearty mean for your tired man and greet him with that beautiful smile of yours :((
It honestly would make them soft, desperate, hating the idea of being even a second longer away from you, all pent up and horny so they just cling with their big, rough hands to your hips and they can't helo themselves but thrust their quiclly hardening cocks against you, effectively humping you like an animal in heat but even your soft whines that you need to finish their dinner doesn't stop the man; he needs to fuck, needs to be close to his girl♡
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darknight3904 · 5 months
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It Burns For You
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𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ ɢʀᴏᴡ ᴜᴘ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀᴘɪᴛᴏʟ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴀʏ ᴄʀᴏꜱꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɴᴇꜱ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱ
𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ɴᴏɴᴇ, ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ. ᴏᴏᴄ ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ, ʜᴇ'ꜱ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴛᴏᴛᴀʟʟʏ ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ʜᴇᴇʟꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ. ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ!
ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ
Coriolanus is 12 when he sees you for the first time. Your red uniform is pressed perfectly and your school bag looks brand new. Your lunch consisted of a hearty-looking sandwich with roast beef and lettuce and a container of fresh fruit that had his mouth-watering.
"Do you want a piece? Our maid always packs too much and I can never finish it. You can have some if you want." Your voice fills his ears
A delicate-looking hand is holding a juicy-looking strawberry in front of him. He reaches for it and it takes every ounce of self-control he has not to shove it in his mouth. Instead, he takes a small bite and thanks you for sharing.
"Don't you have a lunch today?" You ask
He doesn't. The school had said they would start supplying the students with lunches soon but how soon? Coriolanus had already been attending for a number of years and still nothing.
"I already ate it." He lied
"You're still hungry though. You can have the rest." You say with a smile as you push your fruit bowl to him.
"Is it your first day?" He asks
"Yes, my mother thought that my governess wasn't doing a good job so she had my father enroll me here. I miss being at home with my new kitten though. She has long white hair and she is the cutest thing in the whole world." You said
Coriolanus can't believe that you had your own governess, let alone a pet to call your own. He later learns from Arachne that your father became incredibly rich by manufacturing weaponry for the Capitol. Despite your inherent wealth, you've never flashed it around him.
You and Coriolanus are 15 when you discover all the lies he tells at school about his family. He had left his uniform jacket behind on his chair and you got his home address from Sejanus, meaning to give it back so he'd have it for tomorrow. Instead, you had discovered the Snow's decrepit-looking building and barely functioning penthouse. Coriolanus' heart nearly stops when he emerges from his room to see you and his Grandma'am sitting together as she compliments your shoes.
"What are you doing here?" He asks, ready for your judgment and teasing words
"I wanted to return your jacket, Coryo. You'll need it for tomorrow."
The red of the jacket in your arms matches his face as he ushers you to the door, trying to hide the fact that Tigris was preparing cabbage in the kitchen that would undoubtedly stink the entire place up with the scent of the Snow's poverty.
"Stop rushing me, your cousin invited me to stay for dinner." You say trying to stop the way he is leading you to the door.
"You don't want what she is making. Tigris is a terrible cook." He said
Tigris lets out a shout of disagreement from the stove and Coriolanus ignores it.
"How about, I go out and get something to add to the meal Tigris is cooking, and by the time I get back you change your attitude about me staying for dinner Coryo. "
And with that, you walk out the door and slam it in his face. He's rather stunned at your declaration but knows you're serious. He rushes around their home, trying to clean up what he can while Tigris laughs at his frantic motions. Then, just as he was debating whether or not he wanted to change out of his uniform, you return from your short trip to the closest market.
"I wasn't sure what Tigris is cooking so I got a couple of things." You say placing the bags on the table.
Coriolanus is sure you spent a fortune on what is in these bags. Fresh bread accompanied by a sickly sweet fruit spread and a block of butter sits in one while the other holds something else in a brown box. You take your seat next to him at the ugly little table he has eaten too many meals at and cut a piece of the bread for Grandma'am. He is worried when Tigris starts portioning out the cabbage she cooked on the stove. Coriolanus watches your expression as you take a bite but nothing that he expected happens. You don't knit your brows in disgust or get up to leave and take your fresh bread and mysterious box with you. Instead, you go back for a second bite and compliment what Tigris has done with the food.
He sits stiffly next to you and can barely accept the slice of bread you offer him. You excuse yourself to use the bathroom and Tigris reaches across the table and pinches his shoulder.
"Stop sitting like that, Coryo!" She scolds
"Like what?" He asks,aware that Tigris meant how oddly straight his back was.
"You're making her uncomfortable. You've been friends with her for years she isn't worried about what our home looks like." Tigris says
"She might not be but what happens when she goes to school tomorrow and talks?" He asks
He shuts up when he hears the sound of the bathroom door opening again.
"That was lovely Tigris. I've never had anything like it, I'll have to invite you all to my own home for dinner sometime. Our cook makes these pastries that are simply wonderful. They even get sold at local markets, which leads to this..."
His eyes widen when you finally unveil what was hiding in that second bag. A dozen expensive looking deserts sit in the brown box you brought, each one decorated differently.
"I hope I picked something everyone would like. I know Coryo mentioned that Grandma'am liked chocolate so I picked this one just for her."
Coriolanus feels a wide smile stretch across his face as you pass out your little desserts. His worries about you gossiping to their peers fade from view as he bites into what he thinks is a croissant. You laugh at his reaction and toss a napkin at his face which is most likely covered in the gooey fruit filling that was in his pastry.
He walks you back to your home that night and thanks you for making his night. He can't remember the last time Grandma'am had smiled from eating chocolate. You accept his thanks and gently tell him that he shouldn't be ashamed about his financial situation. He never gets to disagree with you though because a soft kiss is pressed to his lips followed by a rushed,
"Goodnight, Coryo! Thanks for the cabbage!"
He walks back to his own home with a jump in his step. Thoughts of you consume him as he smiles to himself, proud his first kiss was shared with you. He feels his heart burn with something that felt like it was going to come up and out his mouth as he finally made it back to his room, you officially had him wrapped around your finger.
Your room is flooded with sunlight the first time Coriolanus sees it. A soft, silky-looking bed spread sits atop one of the biggest beds he has seen as you beckon to your cat, Maisy to come and say hello to him. He looks at the oversized wooden dresser that sits against one wall. He sees the photograph of him and you that was taken a few weeks ago at your 17th birthday party nestled among little knickknacks. Books Coriolanus has never even heard of line your shelves as he you place a record on the player that sits on your desk. Soft sounds of a piano and the words from an unnamed singer fill your gorgeous room as he turns to you.
"Do you want to dance?" He finds himself asking
You accept and he leads you or well tries to. You're rather stiff and it turns out dancing is harder than it looks because he isn't any good at it either. You laugh as he trips over his feet and end up falling with him, landing on the ground entangled in each other. Your fingers brush his curls from his eyes as his nose brushes yours.
"What're you doing?" You ask quietly
"Nothing." He responds, his eyes flicking to your lips.
The moment his lips touch yours, a tingle shoots down his spine. This is a real kiss, not what you gave him when you were both 15. He cups your face and your hands are tangled in his hair as he deepens it. He felt his head spin as you moved against him, almost as if you wanted him to swallow you whole right here on your bedroom floor. A giddy feeling swelled in his chest when he pulled away for air.
"Coryo...what was that?" You ask
"I thought you'd know by now. That was a kiss, darling." He laughed brushing his thumb across your lip
"I know that...but why'd you give me one?" You ask
"Don't you know?" He smiles and places a chaste kiss on your lips "My heart, it burns for you, it always has."
Part 2 is out now!
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willowbelle · 2 months
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"Please, Harder!" Headcanons
ꕥMonster Trio + Ace & Lawꕥ
༉‧₊˚✧ (nsfw, fem afab!reader, 18+ only) ༉‧₊˚✧
a few drabbles for how the monster trio + ace & law respond to you asking them to fuck you harder! (>ᴗ•) !
cw: fem afab!reader, piv sex, spanking, praise, choking, rough sex, positions (in order): mating press, doggy style, cowgirl, wall sex, prone bone.
𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧
"Please, Harder!" Headcanons
ꕥMonster Trio + Ace & Lawꕥ
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Luffy:
Luffy seldom falters in his incessant pace; he revels in his ability to fuck you like an animal in heat; harder and faster than anything you’ve ever experienced. He's captivated by the sounds emanating from your throat, and the knowledge that he's the one eliciting such responses makes it even more enticing. He diligently strives to uncover a wide array of your vocalizations, collecting them, almost. 
On this occasion in particular, he’s got you on your back, legs dangling over his toned shoulders as he holds you down by your waist, pounding his length into your needy cunt while you scream and whine for him. 
A new noise erupts from your heaving chest, one that Luffy’s never heard before;  a plea,
“Please, Luffy, harder!”
The foreign sentence prompts his ears to perk up, momentarily causing his pace to falter. He looks down at you, his eyes widening as he carefully studies your face to confirm he heard you correctly.
Suddenly, a smile tugs at his lips, and he bursts into hearty laughter, 
“You want me to fuck you harder?” he giggles, but his tone is tinted with a bit of playful arrogance, “Sure! If you think you can handle it!” 
Seeing your desperation as a challenge, the captain accepts eagerly, aiming to prove himself. He grounds his knees harder into the mattress and pulls his hips back before thrusting in abruptly, making you cry out as the tip of his cock batters your sweet spot. 
"That's a new one!" he chuckles, the unfamiliar sound igniting a flame within him that courses through his veins and singes his blood, filling him with an exhilaration beyond compare.
Determined to hear the special noise again, he commences with his unruly pace, making your screams rise in pitch. 
The grip he has on your waist tightens as he continues pounding you, the sounds of your sloppy cunt accepting his cock over and over again causing elation to flood his skull, 
“This hard enough for ya, baby?"
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Zoro:
Zoro is a relentless force, driven by an insatiable desire to prove himself; strength and sexual abilities alike. 
He refuses to settle for anything less than excellence, especially in the bedroom. He’s in constant pursuit of validation, hellbent on getting you to scream his name only seconds in. 
Zoro’s got you on your hands and knees, treating your insides with brutal thrusts as he kneels behind you; thick, strong fingers bruising the plush flesh of your hips as he grasps them tightly. 
His grip is like a vise, unyielding and firm, your screams falling on deaf ears as he rails you mercilessly. He always aims to assert his dominance, his presence, and when your needy request makes its way to him, to say he’s surprised is an understatement. 
“Please, Zoro, harder!”
He’s still holding you, with unwavering resolve, but his harsh pace as slowed, just barely, so he can hear you over the lewd sounds of your skin slapping together. 
“Say that again.” 
And you do, making the large man behind you let out an amused tsk. 
He promptly obliges, but not because you’re in charge; oh no, he’s fueled by a fierce resolve to make you rue the moment you questioned his abilities.
The swordsman’s grip tightens on your hips as he immediately begins thrusting harder, so intensely it makes stars erupt beneath your eyelids. 
He’s groaning behind you, planting harsh smacks to your ass as he proceeds, obsessed with the way your cunt sucks in his cock so greedily. 
Your mouth hangs slack and screams escape from it as he pounds you.
You’re a weak, trembling mess, causing the green-haired man to smirk as he leans down to rasp in your ear, 
“Careful what you ask for.”
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Sanji:
Sanji would move mountains for you, sacrifice everything to grant you joy. He’s entrapped by you and your presence; and it transforms him into a devoted disciple, eager to fulfill your every waking need. He hangs onto every word you say, treasuring each syllable as though you’re a deity among mortals. 
He’s always been a gentle lover; petrified of hurting you, of damaging that precious body of yours that he worships so obsessively. 
His adoration transcends mere admiration; he’s a devotee, obsessed with pleasing you with his gifted hands and gentle, strategic hips. 
You’re on top tonight, grinding up and down on his length. You’re desperate for more, though, greedily moving your hips in a tight circle as you move up and down. 
He’s quick to notice; promptly reaching up to hold your waist and aid you in your efforts, lifting his hips to thrust up into you slowly, carefully. 
You whine at the pleasant sensation; it's welcomed, but it’s not enough. 
“Please, Sanji, harder!”
Although he’s a bit taken aback by your sudden request, he doesn’t stop to think, he just obeys. Sanji presses his heels into the mattress to use his strong, lean legs to aid him in pounding into you from below, groaning as he looks up at you longingly. 
“As you wish, beautiful.”
You’re panting, crying out for him as he fucks you harder than ever before; the pace is uncharacteristic but seemingly natural for the gentle cook.
The sight of your face contorted in pleasure makes the coil tighten in his lower stomach, his thrusts are becoming sloppy but remain brutal as he desperately leads you towards your orgasm, 
“Sure you can take it, my love?”
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Ace:
Ace is an enigma; a determined, goal-oriented man, but a kind, compassionate one, nonetheless. 
He regularly tightropes the fine line between rearranging your guts and making sweet, gentle love to you. 
His ambition is unwavering, but his heart remains soft and tender as he strives you make you shake and whine beneath him. He wants to stuff your brain full of nothing but lustful visions of the two of you; the juxtaposition of him fucking you roughly while he caresses and kisses your cheek. 
He’ll usually start gently, kindly; moving his hips carefully, softly moving his lengthy cock in and out of you. 
However, any little whine, squirm, or plea from you can flip the switch inside Ace; ignite the flame within him that singes his skin and plunges him into the unruly parts of himself. In an instant, he’ll be pounding you relentlessly, pace remaining brutal and firm as he makes you scream and pick your brain to find the moment he shifted. 
Tonight is no different as Ace has you pressed against the wall, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist as he holds you up, gently thrusting in and out of your tight cunt. 
You’re digging your nails down his freckled back, prying at his skin, praying that your touches alone are enough to signal that you’re desperate for more. 
He persists like he has been, however, softly and gently, placing sweet kisses to your neck and chest. 
You’re a whining mess, desire pricking at your goosebump-riddled skin as you nip at his collarbone, silently begging him to fuck you harder.
He’s stubborn, clearly, his pace remaining steady as he groans into your ear. 
A plea tickles at your throat but you don’t attempt to stop it, instead, you allow the cry to bubble over and meet Ace’s ear,
“Please, Ace, harder!”
And there it was, the switch flipping; the very moment when kind, gentle Ace retreats, and rough, wild Ace emerges. 
His grip on your hips tightens and he presses you into the wall harder, reaching up to firmly grasp your throat,
“Oh, yeah?” he growls, bringing his hips back to pound into you harshly, earning a weak cry from your slack jaw. 
His pace is immediately overwhelming; you can feel his thick cock in your stomach as he stuffs you full, his blunt tip bullying your cervix with each pass, making you cry out rhythmically. 
“This is a dangerous game you’re playing, pretty girl.” 
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Law:
Law navigates the world with a keen eye and a steady hand; and these traits always remain true, even in the bedroom. 
He’s a meticulous, observant man; and although he may seem dull, he never misses a beat. 
He opts for studying your body; your noises, your movements, in order to please you in the ways you need, not just the ways you want.
Every action is calculated, every decision weighed with thoughtful consideration. He moves with purpose, deliberate and measured, leaving nothing to chance. 
Nothing goes unnoticed, or falls under the radar when you’re with Law; he may be tedious with his touches, but damn, it’s worth it, because he does it all perfectly.
Beneath his analytical exterior lies an insatiable curiosity; a deep, obsessive desire to understand every facet of your being, from the intricacies of your mind to the contours of your exquisite body. 
He wants nothing more than to please you beyond comprehension. 
You’re laying on your stomach, a pillow beneath your pelvis to raise you a bit. Law is hovering above you as he thrusts steadily into your cunt, leaning down to groan in your ear and kiss along your nape. 
His pace is fixed but firm, and the position you’re in aids him in hitting your sweet-spot dead-on with each thrust. 
You’re whimpering needily, coming undone beneath the doctor as he stays true to his consistent pace. 
He’s precise and careful; making sure to hit your g-spot with each pass, but he can tell you’re desperate for something; aching for more. 
He can tell what you’re about to say before you can even get the courage to let it out,
“Please, Law, harder!”
A smug grin tugs at his lips, amused by your desperation for his cock, but he listens, immediately beginning to thrust harder into you.
His pelvis meets your ass with a loud smack with each harsh thrust; the noises are lewd and your weak screams only add to it, but his pace never falters as he obeys your plea. 
He’s determined to instill in you the fact that polite requests will always be granted, but he can’t help but tease you a bit, 
“You’re insatiable.” 
𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧
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tender-rosiey · 3 months
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“IT’S LAUGHING?! IT’S ALIVE?!”
— gojo, geto, nanami, sukuna, and toji hearing the baby’s first laugh (f!reader)
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a/n: guess who's back, back again then I will be gone again (probably)
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GOJO SATORU:
your husband is, admittedly, a very funny guy.
his humor always manages to get to people one way or another, so even if he doesn’t get a laugh, he certainly gets some sort of reaction.
not with his little angel though, the one person that he would die to see her laugh.
no matter how much tickling or raspberries he blew, it was never a laugh, merely a smile or a very short giggle if he was lucky.
he would come across a ton of videos of babies having hearty laughs and simply wished to be able to get the same reaction out of his daughter.
it is the reason he is currently burying his face in your chest and whining, “I feel like she thinks I am just not that funny.”
“satoru, she is still a baby,” you hum, fingers carding through his hair, “you know that babies have different views about what is actually funny; actually, I saw baby not long ago at a photo of number eleven. it was so cute!”
“but I tried everything! even the unusual!” he huffs, standing up to retell all of his failed attempts, “I tried dropping stuff, quickly stirring a liquid, lightly touching her with a balloon—everything!”
he looks at his daughter with his best puppy eyes, “come on, d/n! isn’t there anything that would you laugh a belly laugh?”
a little idea pops into your head. giggling, you sneak off leaving your daughter trying to comfort her wailing papa the best she can.
d/n is caught up with satoru until you finally come back and she smiles, “mama!”
“hi baby!” you grin before smacking your husband—lightly but not so lightly—with a roll of newspaper.
he yelps, “y/n! why would you do that?!”
but he is cut off by his little girl laughing, and I mean laughing so hard she kind of leans back.
you wait until she is quiet again before smacking him with the roll one more time, and she, once more, starts laughing heartily with small little wheezes and a long breath in the end when she calms down.
your husband, mortified, picks his daughter up, “d/n! you’re not supposed to laugh when papa gets hit! you’re supposed to get sad!”
she starts giggling and kicking her feet, putting her hand lightly on his nose. she tilts her head confused, and satoru thinks he knows what she is waiting for him to say. he shan’t falter!
at least, that’s what he thinks.
d/n takes matter into her own hands and smacks him on the forehead, resulting in him yelping and her going into a laughing fit that lasted a minute or so.
how unfortunate that his most precious takes pleasure in him being hurt.
his head snaps towards you, but he guesses that it makes sense since you also love teasing him so much.
a bunch of devils he says! two cute devils he laments.
GETO SUGURU:
geto is convinced that he was blessed with two angels, her cute little twins from his beautiful wife, you. he is also convinced that they would do no wrong—which is like what wrong can a baby a couple months old do anyway.
he ignores how gojo screams about being bullied by the girls, how that one mean babysitter was yapping about how they most definitely threw their toys at her intentionally, and how miguel syas that the girls always hide his glasses because they love seeing his stressed face.
to geto suguru, his daughters could do no wrong.
aside from that, he also noticed that his daughters love playing with hair, sometimes eating it which makes him scream but oh well.
for the most part, they know to treat their father’s hair gently as they watch you and himself do it.
that’s why he never thought that his darling angels would get their first belly laughs by pulling on his freaking bangs.
each twin holds one of the bangs and with all their baby power, they pull and pull almost like they want to tear it off his head.
and while he adores that his daughter are laughing so much—for the first time too—that they stumble back almost turn red, but he really doesn’t want to bald before heat least reaches his 50 or something.
another problem is that you never interfere unless he straight up screams for your help.
that made him realize how much of a common occurrence it is and he finally decided that he needed to put his foot down.
so he sat his girls down—including you because you’ve tolerated the violation of your husband’s hairline so much—and took a deep breath.
“girls, we need to learn that papa’s hair is fragile and we shouldn’t pull on it so much,” he turns to you with the quirk of an eyebrow. “right, honey?”
you barely hold back your smile before nodding and loyally supporting your husband, “why, of course, my love!”
he rolls his eyes, “so, be good girls and don’t pull on my bangs, please?”
one of the twins, while the other frowns and starts fussing. you lock eyes with your husband, and you both try to telepathically figure how to handle this, until your other twin starts crying.
now, you have two crying babies.
congratulations!
so your husband concedes and kneels in front of them, bravely offering his bangs. almost instantly, they stop crying and start pulling the bangs on their respective sides.
they start laughing and squealing again, and geto starts to think that balding is a small price to pay for his angels’ happiness.
he should probably stop calling them that though.
NANAMI KENTO:
now, in constrant to nanami, his daughter came out all bubbly and smiley, and it had nanami going as soft as a marshmallow.
it also didn’t help that d/n is convinced that her dad is indeed a marshmallow in which that she could only touch him softly.
she would gently pat his cheeks, press clumsy little kisses to his forehead, and squeal in order to cuddle with you or him. she also is extremely empathetic and starts crying whenever she sees someone hurt or genuinely frowning.
that was also the reason why gojo adored her since her crying cut anyone’s session of bullying him short. though, of course, he buys her a ton of toys to make up and comfort her.
he fails to realize that the true way to comfort her is to place in your arms or nanami’s.
like that one time when she bumped her head lightly and started crying profusely, throwing punches at gojo who was supposed to be babysitting her—poor choice but who am I to judge. she screamed and squirmed, demanding she be comforted.
however, none of the toys gojo bought were working.
and the two of you were called into a mission, so he literally is rendered helpless. that is until nanami returns a tad bit early than planned, and satoru couldn’t have been more relieved.
he hurriedly places d/n in kento’s arms, and the little girl takes a few seconds to realize who is holding her now.
she looks up, smiling at her dad. he instantly smiles back, “hey there,” he hums, “did you miss me?”
anyway back to what i was saying: a very sensitive and empathetic baby, right?
so when one day, you have your girl perched on your lap and nanami is going all out with scolding gojo, no one expects your daughter to burst one laughing.
you giggle, looking at her, “d/n, you like seeing papa scold uncle gojo?”
gojo gasps, “what?!”
you usher your husband, “babe, try it again!”
nanami nods with determination and gathers everything gojo ever bothered him with and translates it into a bunch of very child-friendly insults.
with each reproach, gojo deflates and d/n starts laughing more, squealing and wheezing. your husband abandons the crushed gojo and goes to hold d/n in his hands, “you okay there?”
she squeals and reaches for her feet, eyes never leaving her father’s. you coo, “she is so cute!”
“I never imagined my daughter would laugh at the sight of me, out of all people, scolding gojo.”
a very wounded gojo screams, “well I sure did! you family of haters!”
your husband frowns, but before he can talk, d/n cups his face and starts babbling a bunch of nonsense. nonetheless, your husband hangs onto every bit of said nonsense. 
gojo takes that chance to flee to the hills.
meanwhile, you’re holding a camera and recording the lecture(?) your tiny angel is giving your husband.
RYOMEN SUKUNA:
your baby is the son of the all-mighty king of curses.
the man who sends terrors throughout the lands, the mere sight of his face is enough to cause someone to pee themselves.
everyone cowers in front of him, except you and more recently his son. on the contrary, in fact, your son can’t help but cackle whenever his dad puts on his “scary” face.
the first time it ever happened was when you were strolling the palace with s/n in your arms.
you know not to enter the throne room whenever sukuna has the villagers over to “hear their complains” as it almost always ended with him slicing one part of their body off.
you figured that it would be okay to at least pass by it since they always had the door closed—that started when you gave birth—but to your surprise, the door was open this time, giving you and your son a front row seat to sukuna degrading his subject.
“you’re wasting my time,” your husband states, and the villagers starts panicking.
“a-apologies my lord, pl-please grant me a-another chance!”
your husband scowls, “and now you’re ordering me around?”
the villager starts crying and kneels to the ground. on the other hand, your son couldn’t have been laughing more. his laugh echoed so loudly in the room that it drew everyone’s attention.
sukuna stares at the baby in your arms and scowls again, “y/n, why is he here?”
your son squeals and starts laughing again, hiding his face in your chest. you light up at his laughter, and sukuna finds himself livid at how the scene makes him feel content—until he notices the villager staring at you as well, what a short-lived happiness.
swiftly, sukuna slashes the villagers into cubes, and your son—who came out of his hiding spot—bursts into a fit of giggles that has you wondering just how much of sukuna’s sadism was passed to your darling son.
while you ponder over that, sukuna quickly makes his way to you, dismissing all the servants and tasking them with taking out the trash.
when your husband is right in front of you, you look up at him with a frown, “my son is laughing at torture, sukuna.”
“he is probably laughing at how pathetic the man looked,” he says as he smirks and pulls you close.
you huff and bounce s/n lightly, “shut up, old man.”
sukuna quirks an eyebrow and leans to be on your eye level. his hand is placed on your head, and he threatens, “you’re insulting your husband?”
s/n gasps lightly before harshly latching on sukuna’s face, fingers digging into his second pair of eyes. sukuna does not give any reaction except standing up to his full height.
your son, however, is relentless and is still hanging onto your husband’s face.
you don’t know how to react. sukuna doesn’t know how to react.
s/n just lets out a series of battle cries.
FUSHIGURO TOJI:
if there is anything that toji is doubtful of is whether his son actually loves him or not.
why you ask? well, the only thing that gets the kid laughing—aside from you laughing or smiling—is literally any inconvenience that happens to him.
he remembers that one time when shiu was over to discuss some business, nothing out of the norm. megumi was on just sat on his high chair beside toji since you were at work.
toji was just sipping on his coffee when he burned his tongue, “gosh damn it!”
shiu was about to make fun of him, but megumi beat him to it as he started laughing heartily, even taking breaths in between to calm down but to no avail.
toji’s eyes widen as he stands up to go to his son, “no way you’re laughing at me getting—what the hell?!”
toji groans after he bumps into the table, glaring at his son who starts laughing all over again. meanwhile, shiu chuckles and teases toji, “I think your son just loves you so much, doesn’t he?”
your husband rises to his feet, quickly carrying megumi and lifting him in the air. he grumbles, “I want my wife back.”
another time was when you guys grocery shopping.
you had most of the list crossed out and the only thing left was the frozen vegetables. easy, right?
so you, your husband, and son quickly made your way to the section—since megumi wanted to go to the park later to play with yuuji.
megumi stays in your arms, while toji goes to grab them. considering how unlucky this man is, the bag slips from his hand and falls flat on his face, and it freaking stays there.
to your darling son, comedy had never reached this peak, so he lets out a guttural laugh.
you want to join in on the laughter, but you noticed that toji is standing still, with the bag on his face.
so you walk to him, gently taking off the bag and teasing him, “you okay, champ? that made quite the noise.”
“don’t even start,” he groans and buries his face in your shoulder, ignoring the wheezing megumi. he then starts complaining, “they keep whining about how he is a quiet and shy kid, but he sure ain’t with me.”
“isn’t that a good thing? It’s important for him to feel free around his dad.”
he turns his head towards you, a frown plastered on his face, “no kid laughs whenever his dad gets ridiculed by life.”
“you told me that you laughed when your dad fell down a flight of stairs,” you deadpan.
“that’s because my dad is an ass; I am not,” he pauses, “for the most part.”
apparently, megumi senses his dad’s distress and starts slowly patting his head, albeit shyly. he lowers his gaze and mumbles, “so’y.”
toji’s eyes widen and he is frozen in place for a moment. your son takes note of that and starts staring him in the eye, waiting for his reaction.
your husband doesn’t take long for a small smile to break out as he lets a small sigh, “’s okay kid,” he hums and pets his head.
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copyright © tender-rosiey
do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported
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bonbonbee · 4 months
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falling in love ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡.
contents by @bonbonbee
the silent eye contact from across the room.
^ & the flirty glances especially when there are people around
always turning their head if your name is mentioned
will always eventually turn the conversation topic to you
immediately looking for your reaction once telling a joke
^ caring how you perceive things
cares for your opinions more than their own
the first smile you share.
^ not a small half-smile, a real smile. differs between a hearty laugh, a beaming smile with their teeth, or the smirk after a kiss.
slowing becoming like each other
the subtle things they notice.. become not so subtle.
^ "i've always loved the freckles on your cheeks, and your eyes, and your lips. no i just like you."
finding things that remind them of you.
"i like this candle." "i know." "how?" "it reminded me of your perfume."
being shy around each other
"why are you so jittery?" "i just saw _____, they're so beautiful."
denial. realization. obsession.
^ their responses to falling in love w/ you, sometimes in that exact order.
denial: "whaaaaattt, i don't like _____..." "yeah, and i don't breath oxygen."
realization: all the butterflies in their stomach, why their gaze always falls on you, the urge to seek your approval.
& good ol' obsession.
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tojigasm · 5 months
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Thinking about Felix letting you play with his fingers while he's studying I could cry
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He can feel you getting fidgety beside him at his desk. You're sat in a plush pink heart-shaped chair he'd bought you specifically for his dorm room.
He offers you his hand rather covertly – as if there's someone else in the room. The invisible audience remains aloof when you take his large hand into your smaller one.
His piercing sparkles against the sun filtering through his wicker window frame.
"Ya' like your classes?" Felix asks
"Mhm," you nod. "Got a hundred on my last paper." You bend one of his fingers forward, tracing the pad of your index over one of his rings.
"Oh, yeah?" He turns to look at you softly.
There's an allude to tease in his tone.
You nod, pulling your bottpm lip between your teeth prudently.
Felix leans back into his chair, linking his hands together over his chest. He smiles teasingly at you – assessing you though his eyes never leave your own.
"Y'always like this?"
"Hm?" Your brows furrow
"Shy. You're like..." He gestures to you with a hearty laugh, "you're like a little mouse."
"I don't know–"
The smoke of his cig swirls and divets through the light of his window.
Felix's hands come down to rest on the tops of your thighs. He gently squeezes the plush of them.
"Uh huh," a grabs the cig from the decorative ashtray you'd gifted him only a few weeks prior. Dark eyes remain on your own. "Remind me what you got on that paper of yours."
"A hundered."
"Mm," he hums, taking a drag of the cigarette. His free hand squeezes the skin right above your knee. "Such a smart girl, huh."
Felix smiles from behind the cig between his lips, and you can feel heat fill your cheeks. Suddenly, you're tracing over his features, noting each one in a gooey haze.
A light tap on the side of your thigh pulls you back.
"Lemme finish this, and then I'll go get ya' some lunch, yeah?"
You nod and take hold of his hand again.
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celestialwhoree · 3 months
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🌙💖
Simon Riley with a single mom!reader.
She moves in to the flat next-door with her toddler, who's understandably a little freaked and unsettled by the new place, keeps her mom up all night with her cries.
She brings apology cookies over the next day, embarrassed at the fact she's not even been in the building for a month yet and her neighbours already probably hate her.
The burly, gruff looking military man who answers the door with an understanding smile and an invitation for her to join him for a cup of tea makes her jaw practically drop.
Truth is, he's seen her and her daughter in and around town for a couple of weeks now and hasn't managed the courage to speak to her, but when she comes over and hands him a divine smelling plate of cookies with a ringless finger, he can't not.
They get to chatting, and she mentions how occasionally she hears the music he plays through their adjoining wall, shares her mutual love of The Eagles and Credence Clearwater. He mentions how good her cooking smells, she invites him for dinner with a gentle smile and fingers fidgeting around the rim of her mug.
Her daughter is also a poppet, tries to get him to play Barbies with her whilst her mom makes dinner.
She preps him a really hearty meal, hot and protein rich and loaded onto the plate whilst he loads her daughter into her highchair and helps to set the table.
Single Mom!Reader can't help but revel in the almost domesticity of it, of having some support. Simon also doesn't mind the coziness of her home and the chirpiness of her daughter.
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