#“ you are the wife shaker ”

[theangelcatalogue]

Don't shake the rat guys!! Bad things happen!!

[cameronsbabydoll]

scc!reader tagging along to the gym with scc!rafe after their first baby 𐙚⋆.˚

warnings: condescending behavior, postpartum depression, belittling

you hear the garage door open before you even make it down the stairs.

rafe’s already in his gym clothes, car keys dangling from his fingers, the shaker bottle in his other hand filled with some dark green protein mess. he’s got that usual morning scowl on, the one you used to think was hot, but lately just makes your stomach twist.

you’re standing barefoot by the kitchen counter, still in your soft pajama shorts and nursing tank, your hair barely brushed, baby monitor humming beside you. but you’ve been planning this — all morning. waiting for the perfect time.

“wait,” you call out softly, slipping your feet into your tennis shoes, “can i come with you?”

he pauses at the door, glancing back. “to the gym?”

you nod. already going to grab your water bottle, your tote bag. you'd put on your new workout set after the last feed, light pink and snug — something small and girlish, just to feel like yourself again. it’s your first time leaving the baby for more than ten minutes. you thought maybe… he’d be happy to have you along.

instead he gives you that look. the one that scrunches his brows and flattens his mouth, like he doesn’t want to argue but also doesn’t want to deal with whatever this is.

“you sure?” he asks, but not kindly. “you looked dead tired this morning.”

you fumble with your zipper. “i just wanna get out for a little. move around. i haven’t— i mean, i think it’ll help.”

“you gonna cry if i say no?” he says with a smirk, like it’s a joke, but it isn’t funny. not to you.

you freeze at the doorway, blinking fast, heart beating in your ears. “i won’t get in the way.”

he sighs and starts walking toward the garage again. “you comin’ or not? i’m not gonna be late ‘cause you forgot somethin’.”

you trail after him, cheeks hot, throat tight, stomach still sore from the c-section scar that hasn't quite healed right. and when you finally settle into the passenger seat — fresh-faced, trying to be chatty, knees pressed together — he’s already adjusting the rearview mirror, sipping his drink.

“you bringin’ that cute lil’ baby dumbbell again?” he mumbles.

you pause. “it’s… it’s three pounds.”

“real intense workout,” he murmurs. smirking like it’s sweet. like it’s nothing.

you don’t answer. you just turn your head toward the window, watching the houses blur past. your chest hurts — with the ache of all the things you haven’t said since the baby came. how you’re only twenty-three. how you’re still just a girl. how your whole life used to be ballet and iced coffees and pinterest boards, and now it’s feeding schedules and pumping bras and being told to “rest” while your husband gets to leave.

you grip the edge of the seat as he turns sharply into the gym lot. you want to ask if he’s embarrassed of you. if he didn’t think you’d be soft like this. if he wishes you stayed the way you were before. but your voice gets lost somewhere behind your lips.

“don’t pout,” he mutters, nudging your thigh. “you wanted to come.”

you nod. blinking fast. lips trembling as you unbuckle.

you follow him inside, smaller than you used to be, somehow, even in your new leggings and matching top. the gym is bright and cold and full of mirrors — and you look like a girl pretending not to cry. like a wife pretending to belong.

[loveanddeepspacestuffforfreaks]

"Yes Doctor"

Loveanddeepspace stuff for geeks (My sfw stuff)

I hc that Zayne LOVES to call his wife, "Doctor" or just tittles of authority in general. Apologies, but this one is femme reader specific. I'll make another that is more gender neutral in the future.

Zayne x Read, fluff. marriage, Zayne x Fem reader. Sleepy Zayne.

Not proofread. (Sorry).

Guys I love Zayne.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

All it takes is one favor to fall from your pretty little lips and Zayne is out for the count.

"Zayne, pass me the salt, would you?" A tiny smile would form on his lips as his fingers wrapped around the classic saltshaker.

"Is there anything else you need?" He would pull up behind you, trapping you against the counter as he laid the shaker in front of you.

"Ma'am?" A whisper in your ear, raising your brow at him as you turned to look at him.

"Ma'am?" You would question as he nuzzled his nose against your hair.

"Am I your keeper?" Taking the salt in our hand before pinching it between your fingers and dusting it over the food.

Zayne would hold your waist, burying his face in your neck you could fine the faint line of his lips curving upwards.

"Would you like to be?" He mused against your skin as you smirked to yourself.

"Haha, maybe."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Zayne found it so cute when you would give him medical advice, your worried tone when you tried to lure him to sleep by cupping his face and dragging him to bed with you.

A collage of concerns, blessing his ears. 'You should sleep more.', 'Eight hours a day...' and his favorite.

"You already work yourself to death, don't you want to relax with me in bed?" You cooed, pouting as he stared down at you. Dark circles under his emerald eyes, shining at the sight of you as he melted against your touch.

"Are those Doctor's orders, hm?" His hands covering yours a tired smirk playing on his lips. "Hm I guess I shouldn't be so negligent~"

A scoff would leave your lips as your sleep deprived husband would mutter his delusions.

"Oh am I the doctor now?" Your eyebrows up in a look of annoyance. He gave a goofy nod in response. "Have you gone so mad without sleep that you've forgotten your occupation?"

A chuckle fell from his lips as he leaned forward, resting his head's weight in your hands.

You rolled your eyes.

"Well then, as your doctor I order you to go to bed." Brushing your thumb along his cheek, Zayne would close his eyes absorbing the affection as much as he could. "Do you understand?"

Eyes lids fluttered open, lashes uncovering the green hue of his forest irises as they looked at you. A playful smirk rolling across his lips, pressing them gently against the palm of your hand as he whispered.

"Yes Doctor~"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

That was really fun! Should I make a Loveanddeepspace stuff for freaks version? (Nsfw version)

[kaijynx]

RAGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH THANK YOU SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO MUCH JUMPS UPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP AND DOWNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN YIPPEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE I LOVE MY WIFEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Otome Hanayama Board with shaker charms, decoden, deco pacifiers and J-fashion stims

( requested by @k4ijynx ; stims specified )

(🌃) (📔) (🌃)

(📱) x (📱)

(💙) (📔) (💙)

Proship / Comship / RPF Do Not Interact Please ! Divider(s) by @aquazero !

[chosopie]

y/n will slowly grow to love Conqueror Sukana. Just as long as Yuji keeps his title and is happy and safe

PART 3, CONQUERER - RYOMEN SUKUNA

SUMMARY: It has been weeks since the day of your grand wedding. Sukuna agreed to give your brother Yuji his share of power. Ever since then, you have been spending more time with him, soon growing to enjoy his company.

cw: fluff, you and Sukuna becoming softies

: ̗̀➛ part 2

"You will make sure Yuji gets his title. He's my brother, my blood. I will see to it that he will have access to privileges and resources of this kingdom," You sternly ordered, your eyes intensely staring at your husband Sukuna.

"Damn, do you talk a lot, woman. It's only been a couple weeks and you're starting to nag like an old wife," Sukuna groaned.

"My wishes must be fulfilled," you narrowed your eyes at him.

"And what will you do if they aren't, princess?" He arrogantly smiled at you, amusement glinting from his eyes.

"I’m not a princess. I am the queen and I could send you into exile."

Sukuna laughed at you. "How bold of you. You can't do that."

"You forget that my people are loyal to me, the true blood of this kingdom."

"You forget that I single-handedly killed your pathetic man and his army," He looms over you, his chest right in front of your face.

"Only, because I allowed it. I needed someone more capable like you," You admitted, trying to hold together what remained of your pride while commending your husband. When he smirked in response, you instantly regretted letting those words leave your mouth. To your dismay, that surely fed Sukuna's large ego, keeping it full and satisfied.

"That's all you had to say, brat,” He beamed. “You have my word. The little rascal gets what he needs and I'll protect him." Sukuna reaches over your head, ruffling the hair you had just tidied up.

“Hey!” You groaned, your hands patting and combing your hair in an attempt to return it to its previous state. Sukuna and his ego was a handful, but you knew deep down there had to be a soft spot beneath all that pride and cockiness. You were determined to crack that shell and see what’s really in his heart.

When the sun had set, the dinner table had been set up by your handmaidens. There was a large variety of food all over the table. Yuji sat beside you with a big smile on his face and his eyes lovingly staring at the food.

“Yuji, keep staring like that and you might just marry the food,” you snickered.

Yuji gave you an unamused look, “Come on! I’m just hungry. It’s been a while since we’ve had steak.”

“A while?” You quirked an eyebrow up. “We have steak every week.”

“Just let me be hungry!” He whined. “Where’s your husband? I’m gonna starve to death.”

“Your king is here,” Sukuna loudly said from the other side of the room. He wore a big fur coat over his wide figure.

Hearing his loud and obnoxious voice, you roll your eyes, but you were going to test and prod at him tonight. Beneath all those muscles and ego, there has to be something else in there, right? We can’t pretend forever.

“Pass me the salt, hun,” you point towards the small shaker across the table. Sukuna raised his eyebrow, questioning your behavior; nevertheless, he complied with your request.

Yuji stared at the two of you with confusion. What was with the nicknames all of a sudden? Have you been taking something weird? This was not the big sister he knew. Perhaps you’ve gone soft. “As long as she’s happy,” Yuji thought. After having Sukuna around the house for a couple of week, he didn’t seem so bad after all, just a little obnoxious and boastful. He never raised a hand at you nor did he yell at you just because he wasn’t in a good mood. He seemed to care.

When all of you had finished eating, Yuji returned to his quarters while you and Sukuna headed to yours. Sukuna immediately threw himself onto the bed and made himself comfortable under the thick duvet.

“I’m gonna shower,” you told Sukuna. He simply nodded in response.

You stepped into the shower and twisted the small knob, allowing the warm water to rain on your skin. Closing your eyes, you thought about how Sukuna had been ever since he came around. Most of the time, you two would clash over your different ideologies or even the simplest things like food or how you ate the cake he had been waiting all day to eat. Despite all that, he respected you and treated you well. He would buy you dresses and jewelry, making sure you were clad in the prettiest things out there. You let out a sigh in relief as the warm water began to relax your body. You grabbed your most fragrant soap and made sure to scrub yourself clean. Once you were finished, you wiped yourself dry with a towel, then slipped into a pink nightgown that sort of matched his hair.

You walked into the room, Sukuna’s eyes immediately landing on you. “What’re you doing?” You ask while you made your way to the bed to sit beside him.

“Reading,” he mumbled, his eyes now fixed on the small book in hand.

“Is that a history book?” Your eyes widened in disbelief. “Aw, do you care about me and my country that much?”

“Fuck off. I’m reading this so I know how to take advantage of the shit you guys have,” Sukuna huffed in annoyance.

“I love you too, Sukuna,” you tested those words. Those three damn words. They felt foreign in your mouth.

Sukuna tensed up, his face looking stiff as ever. He hesitantly turned to look at you and got up. Now, you were scared. He inched closer and closer to you, his body towering over you as usual. You couldn’t read his expression and it made your nerves jitter. He reached his hand out to hold your head, and you thought he was going to ruffle your hair like he always did, but no. It was something different which shocked you. He pulled your head in and gently kissed you on the forehead.

“I love you,” he softly said.

You looked at him with wide eyes, your cheeks red from the intimate gesture. Was he serious? Your heart was beating so hard you could feel it in your ears. The room suddenly felt hotter than usual. There was a strange warm feeling that swelled in your beating chest. A bold idea crossed your mind, and you let your body move on its own, your arms reaching out to him for an embrace. You slowly snaked your arms around his torso and rested your head in the crook of his neck.

This isn’t so bad. You’ve fallen for him.

“I love you,” you whispered into his ear before pecking his cheek.

[newtonsheffield]

newton gets chicken nuggets, Kate gets orgasms AND chicken nuggets. honestly his only fault is being a finance bro wifing him might fix that

Anthony being in a calm, settled relationship might actually be exactly what he needs to just… not be a finance bro who eats sushi for lunch every day and has a sports car that rattles the ground when it drives by.

However, Kate learns two things quite quickly.

1) Anthony will not be parted from his sports car, who is apparently called frigging Adeline.

2) She actually doesn’t want to stop Anthony wearing his compression sleeves when he’s running. It’s very hot actually, when he comes home from a training run and he’s shirtless, but his sleeves are still on. She likes the way his hair looks when he takes his backwards running cap off and it’s sweaty and it hangs in his eyes when he drops his bloody stupid mirrored running glasses.

“It’s hot out there today.” Anthony swiped sweat off his brow and leaned down to kiss Kate quickly. “Sorry, Babe. Sweaty.”

Kate was sat at his breakfast bar, staring shamelessly at her boyfriend who strode round the counter to make himself a recovery drink. “You’re… fine.”

Even the annoying sound of his shaker bottle didn’t bother her anymore, “Do you want to review the calendar for today?”

Kate sighed, trying not to stare at the bob of Anthony’s throat as he drank. That was too far. “I swear to god if you’ve written ‘Post run shower sex’ in there again we’re breaking up.”

Anthony didn’t look bothered, he knew at this point that she was bluffing. “Would the break up be before or after the shower sex though?”

“Depends on who’s getting down on their knee.”

“Me, obviously.” He was flexing his muscles on purpose and she knew it.

“After then, surely. But I can’t confirm at what point in the future that’ll be.”

“Do you want my pants off now or later?”

“Now please.”

[literally-just-there]

ꉂ`🌻🔍`Happy Anniversary !!

Cheers to two years of this blog and ship, and nearly four years of loving the Informant with all my heart 🥹💖💕

He is the best I could have ever hoped to happen to me. Everyday he is on my mind, at the front or at the back, and he gives me an impulse for confidence and creativity I could only dream of. And so I gave him Seeker, as a thank you. She is not me, but I put a lot of myself in her. She is a work of love, of all the love I have for the Informant 🌕✨️

‧₊˚🌻🔍✩ ₊˚💞⊹♡ Tag List

Let me know if you want to be added or removed !!

♡ @cozylovers @cinnamon-phrog @earth-shaker @francinekisser @disabledbears

♡ @sunflawyer @bobmckenzie @retrojem @pinky-in-blankets @starlos-soulmate

♡ @princess-hope-selfships @faerie-circle-ships @catships777 @from-stars-to-shadows @catsiren

♡ @brahms-and-lances-wife @moxanji-real @adams-lil-bedbug @rapunziedameron @frankys-wife

♡ @starshakez @strawhatwife @lovemelikenobodydoes

[ririright]

“Operation: Drive Hayden Crazy (With Love)”

Husband! Hayden x Wife Reader (Headcannons)

❤︎ The “The Fuck” Prank

You’re chatting with Hayden in the kitchen about dinner plans.

“I was thinking maybe we could have pasta or— the fuck— roasted chicken?”

Hayden freezes, brows furrowing.

“Uh… did you just—?”

You continue, totally casual. “Yeah, but maybe we can make garlic bread too— the fuck.”

He leans in closer, eyes wide. “Are you okay? Why do you keep—?”

When you finally break and start laughing, he looks so relieved. “Oh my god, you scared me! I thought you were… possessed or something.”

For the next hour, he’ll randomly go, “The fuck?” back at you with a grin.

❤︎ The “Wiping the Kiss” Prank

You’re lounging on the couch, and Hayden leans in for a sweet kiss.

The moment he pulls back, you immediately wipe your mouth with an exaggerated frown.

His face drops. “What—? Did I… do something?”

He tries again, a little gentler. You wipe it again, now looking even more annoyed.

“Okay, no. I’m insulted. Come here.” He’s on top of you, smothering you with rapid kisses

“You can’t escape, sweetheart. No more wiping.”

When you finally confess it was a prank, he huffs. “You’re lucky I love you.”

But for the next few hours, he’ll randomly wipe his own lips dramatically after you kiss him.

❤︎ The “Flashing Him” Prank

You pretend you’re setting up your phone for a TikTok dance in the living room.

Hayden is casually reading in the background, pretending not to watch you, but he’s totally watching.

You suddenly turn around, lift your shirt, and flash him.

His jaw drops, the book falling out of his hands. “Wait—did you—?”

You turn back like nothing happened, doing your fake dance again.

He’s laughing now, getting up,

“Oh, so that’s how we’re playing today?”

He wraps his arms around you from behind, murmuring, “Gonna do that again, or was that a one-time show?”

❤︎ The “Fighting an Invisible Person” Prank

You’re both parked in the drive-thru line, and as you wait, you suddenly whip around to the empty backseat.

“I told you to leave us alone!” you shout, swinging your hand like you’re trying to shove someone away.

Hayden’s eyes go wide, his hand gripping the steering wheel. “Babe?”

You continue, voice panicked. “What’s your problem?! You have no right— let go!” You start thrashing, making it look like you’re being dragged into the backseat.

“HEY!” Hayden unbuckles, spinning in his seat. “Get off her!” He’s already trying to climb over the console, hands out like he’s about to grab this ‘invisible attacker’.

You’re flailing dramatically, your hand smacking him in the face by accident.

“I got you, sweetheart!” He’s in full hero mode. “Hold on!”

Suddenly, you stop, sitting back calmly. “Okay, they’re gone.”

Hayden’s jaw drops. “What… what the hell?”

You burst into laughter, tears in your eyes, and it takes a second for him to realize. He just slumps back in his seat, breathless. “I’m gonna need, like, ten minutes to calm down. Do you want me to have a heart attack?!”

❤︎ The “Salty Soup” Prank

You stir the pot, trying not to laugh as you add an obscene amount of salt. “Babe, can you taste this real quick?”

Hayden wanders over, smiling, and takes a big spoonful. The second the soup hits his tongue, his face twists in pure horror.

“Jesus— are you trying to mummify me?” He’s coughing, rushing to the sink for water.

“Oh, really? You think it needs more salt?” You grab the shaker and start shaking again.

“NO!” He lunges, wrestling the salt from your hand. “Babe, you’re committing a war crime in this kitchen!”

You try to look serious. “I just thought it needed a little more flavor.”

“Flavor? You mean ‘instant dehydration’?” He’s laughing now, but there’s a hint of trauma in his eyes.

❤︎ The “Electrocuted Prank”

You’re in the bathroom, teasing your hair into a wild, frizzy mess, making it look like you stuck a fork in an outlet. A little black eyeshadow smudged on your cheeks gives you that perfect “I-just-got-fried” look. You glance at yourself in the mirror, trying not to laugh.

Perfect.

Taking a deep breath, you step into the kitchen, grab the unplugged toaster, and position yourself just right. Then you scream.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

Hayden’s footsteps are thunderous down the hallway, practically skidding into the kitchen. “What—what’s wrong?!—”

The second he turns the corner, you launch into your act. Your entire body convulses, shaking violently, your mouth open in that same desperate scream. Your eyes are wide, a mix of terror and—barely concealed—laughter.

But you hold it in.

Hayden’s face goes ghost-white. “Oh my god! DROP IT!”

You don’t. You keep shaking, your scream wavering just enough to sound unhinged.

“PUT IT DOWN! LET GO!” He’s rushing forward, then stopping short, waving his hands in a frenzy. “Wait! No—okay, okay, don’t move! Uh—what do I—”

He spins, grabs the closest thing he can find—a spatula. “I-I’ll knock it out of your hands!” But he can’t seem to commit, bouncing from one foot to the other. “No! That’s too violent! Okay, okay, think, Hayden—think!”

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to keep your expression serious, the scream only growing louder.

“AHHHHHHH!”

“I’m getting a towel!” He lunges for a dish towel, snapping it in the air like he’s going to lasso you. “Okay, just… just stay calm!”

You start to crumble, your lips twitching. He notices. “Wait a minute—”

Your scream turns into a breathless giggle, and the toaster clatters to the counter.

“Y-You—” He’s staring, wide-eyed, breathless. “ARE YOU SERIOUS?!”

You’re doubled over now, clutching your stomach, tears in your eyes. “You should’ve seen yourself!”

“I thought—” He points at the unplugged cord. “I thought you were going to become a human lightning rod!”

Still giggling, you reach out to hug him, but he steps back, hand over his chest. “No. No hugs for you.”

“Oh, come on,” you wheeze, wiping your eyes. “You would’ve saved me.”

“I was about to kick that toaster out of your hands like a football.” His serious face breaks, and he’s laughing now too, rubbing his face. “You are the most evil woman I know.”

You grin, leaning up to kiss him. “But you love me.”

He finally wraps his arms around you, pulling you in. “Oh, I do. But I’m getting you back for this. I’m gonna get you so good you’ll regret ever buying that toaster.”

[brainddeadd]

Accidentally calling your girlfriend "wife"

madison beer x fem!reader

It happened in the most casual way—completely unintentionally but undeniably loud enough for everyone around to hear.

You and Madison were out at a trendy café, seated by the windows, sunlight filtering through as you both waited for your food. Madison, looking effortlessly gorgeous in a cropped sweater and sunglasses perched on her head, was scrolling through her phone while you absentmindedly fiddled with the salt shaker.

The server approached, smiling warmly. "Your drinks will be right out. Can I get you anything else for now?"

You shook your head. "No, we're good, thanks." Then, without thinking, you added, "My wife loves extra ice, though, if that’s not too much trouble."

The words tumbled out so naturally, you didn’t even register what you'd said until Madison turned to you, eyebrows arched.

"Wife?" she echoed, loud enough to catch the attention of the nearby tables.

You froze, eyes wide in mild horror, realizing what had just slipped from your mouth. A few people glanced your way, amused smiles tugging at their lips. Madison, on the other hand, was grinning like she just won the lottery.

"Excuse me?" she teased, leaning closer with a playful smirk. "Did you just call me your wife?"

You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, and you rubbed the back of your neck, trying to play it off. "Uh... I meant girlfriend—same thing, right?"

Madison gave you a look that was part amusement, part affection, as if you’d just handed her the best compliment ever. "Not yet," she said, her voice low enough that only you could hear, "but I’m holding you to that now."

Before you could respond, the server returned with the drinks, shooting both of you a knowing smile. "Here’s the extra ice... for your wife."

Madison laughed softly, reaching across the table to squeeze your hand. "You better not take it back now," she whispered, her eyes sparkling with playful intent.

You couldn’t help but grin, leaning closer to her. "Wouldn’t dream of it."

The rest of the café blurred away as you shared a moment of unspoken understanding—accident or not, the word wife felt just right.

[pedge-page]

Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife : Smooches

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Notes: written in honor of the fabulous and fantastic @romanarose birthday today!!! 🎂 I would not be writing Pedro fics if it were not for their fantastic stories that got me hooked so everyone PLEASE wish our lord and Savior the bestest birthdays of all!

- - - -

Joel knew pregnancy brain was out of wack when you started slamming the table with a fork and knife at 5pm like a senior citizen demanding dinner.

"I aint got anything you aren't gonna throw up later. We're going out," he states with hands planted on his hips.

"Ooh yay!" You wiggle out of your chair and grab your purse. "Jone's steakhouse?"

"If that's what you want."

"But you have to ALSO want it. Or it feels like you don't want it and makes me feel like I'm dragging--"

"JUST. get in the car, sweetie," he grits with a fake smile, opening the door.

-

Dinner was good. Steak was solid. You complained it wasn't salty enough even after you dumped the entire shaker onto each slice. But now that both your bellies are full and satisfied, with you rubbing your exceptionally swollen one happily, the drive home was finally peaceful.

Until you kept smacking your lips. The quiet air was filled with schmockschmockschmock sounds from your beautiful but ever so annoying mouth.

Joel clears his throat but keeps his eyes forward and mouth shut. Just gotta get you into bed and it's a sold evening.

He hears you digging in your purse, scavaging deeply for--

"Oh no. Nononononono!" You shriek, hands splitting the seam of the bag open to dump out all its contents on your lap.

"What, what's wrong?"

After clearly seeing all pockets were empty, you shout, "Oh my god noooo! Oh god please don't be happening."

"What you forget your phone? Wallet?" He asks worriedly.

Instead of just outright answering him (because thats just ridiculous) you start panting heavily and tearing up. "I cant live. I need it Joel."

"Need--need what baby? Just tell me, I'll make it right."

But you're too hysterical and hyperventilating  at his brain dead question to give him the answer.

Roll with the punches, Miller. Stay calm. Resolve.

"Okay it's OK probably just sitting on the ground at the restaurant. I'm turning around, okay baby? Please calm down, we're gonna get it back."

Joel explains to the host that you just saw 15 minutes ago that his wife (he gestures to his obviously pregnant and agitated , volcanic explosion of a meltdown wife who's having a panic attack) forgot something and would like to check the table again to find it.

The host rushes the two of you back to the table to avoid mount doom from exploding.

But after thoroughly searching for something that only YOU know what is missing, absolutely nothing comes up around the table that doesn't belong to said restaurant and table.

"What did you lose?" He finally asks hesitantly. It MIGHT help to know. "Phone? Wallet?"

You take a deep breath, eyes swollen and red, cheeks blown warm and shiny with tears as the world crashes around you at the devestating realization that its GONE gone:

"My LIP MOISTURIZER!"

You slug your shoulders and tilt your head back to wail in the middle of this albeit emptying restaurant while Joel and everyone pauses to quietly stares at you.

Joel's expression with an edge of disbelief and exhaustion.

He takes you by the hand as you still cry, thanks the host with a wave and gets your fat ass in the truck.

"We got more at home... right?"

"Joel!!" You snap. "If I HAD another one, I'D BE USING IT! I wasn't finished with the last one! Everything will be wrong if I open a new one when I still has the other one every day for 6 months!"

"You've had this one chapstick since I got you pregnant?"

"LIP. MOISTURIZER." You throw yourself back into the comfy seat. "You only like kissing me when it's moist and pleasant and NOW you won't like me--"

"Babe I never even knew you had stuff on--"

"WELL NOW YOU WILL because it won't be on and everything is RUINED! I have to over compensate for your dry peely nasty crunchy flaky dead lips, but now you won't love me and our baby because I won't have silky smooth moist plushy baby girl lips and then my husband won't have juicy sucker's to suck on when we make out and get his fat cock sucked by my once pillowy beautiful lush lippy lips...!" and then you start sobbing again.

He shakes his head. "Listen, how about I get you some more first thing tomorrow morning--"

"Tonight!"

"Right, tonight. That's what I said." He gulps hard. "And uh, you'll be... coming with me?"

You slowly turn your head and narrow your eyes. He does now see the clock is 8pm, sharply past your self imposed bed time.

"I meant you'll be coming with me... as I drop you off at the house. Then I'll go back out."

You nod as if saying 'that's more like it,' before folding your arms over your chest.

He squeezes his eyes shut and internally rolls them as hard as possible.

-

The closest 24/7 general store was 10 minutes thankfully. He grabbed a handful of different flavor chapsticks and dumps them on your lap--

"Joel what the FUCK are these."

"Chap--!"

"I WANTED LIP. MOISTURIZER! NIVEA! EOS! VASELINE! NOT THIS CHEAP SHIT."

He growls--not this shit again. He has flashbacks of the taco yackies incident roll through his mind. "YOU ASKED FOR CHAPSTICK! I GOT EXACTLY THAT!"

"Chapstick is a BRAND name. This stuff makes my lips burn and feels even drier. Joel do you SEE my lips!" You point both fingers directly at your mouth and purse out. "DRY. AS. FUCK. these are NOT dick sucking lips.  They will start fucking peeling soon.  and then I don't know if I will be able to kiss my own baby's noggin when she's first born less she be DISGUSTED--"

Hes back in the car before you were even done yelling.

Back at the store. Staring at the wall of different lip care options. This is 10x worse than the tampon and pad aisle. THAT one he's a pro in. Pussy King expert for all its needs. Even shows other women that come back exactly where and what they're looking for. But this shit??

There's so many flavors. Why does the flavor matter? Cherry red, cherry blossom, cherry berry--what the fuck is the difference? One says lip moisturizer, the same one next to it says lip care, then lip cream, lip balm, lip lush, lip lotion... fuck.

He does the sensible thing: pulls one of every single item into his arms, struggling but managing to hold haphazardly close to his chest (the man doesn't get a basket for shit because he only comes on for the exact ONE thing he knows he's getting). When he hobbles to the tired cashier, he leans forwards and dumps it all the counter with a sad smile. A smile of which drops quickly when the total comes to exceed $85.

-

9:14pm. Could be worse. You're eating a bag of extra salted chips--which he suspects is only going to make the lip situation worse but whatever. One by one, he basketball chucks them into your lap. You inspect each one, scoffing at all the useless flavor ones that just don't work, until finally holding up the vanilla honey extra moistening stick. You rip it from the package, pop the lid off and slather that shit on with a orgasmic groan, rolling your eyes back as it glides over and over your lips repeatedly. You smack them to spread evenly, all shiny and pretty before nodding approval.

Joel sighs and tosses himself on the couch, head first into your lap. You rub his hair and continue watching the TV, gnawing at the chips carefully so as not to ruin your fresh lips, as he falls asleep and snores deeply.

It lasts for a minute before both you and he feel something small against his temple stir in your belly.

He sits up like rocket, and the two of you stare at one another in shock. You both slowly look down at the belly, hands crept over its rounded expanse, and wait.

Then--an almost inperceivable yet delicate tiny kick. The first one.

Neither of you have words as excitement floods your faces.

"See. Even the BABY needs the best kissy lips."

He grabs your face with both hands and smashes his lips onto yours like he's gonna suck your soul away.

When he finally pulls off with a big grin (and you thrown back against the couch with a delirious expression getting oxygen back to your brain while your pussy drips fresh juices onto the couch), he smacks his lips tastily and enjoying the soft, silky, honey sweetness of your lips.

"Oh fuck, that is good."

You grip his shirt and force him back down to make out with you again, falling sideways on the couch as you both hungrily grope each others' bodies.

-

The next day you find your brand new lip moisturizer missing. It's set in the bathroom vanity, somewhere you did NOT left it. When popping it open, it has suspicious short little whisker hairs stuck to it. You frown but plant it back where you find it, run behind the door, and wait. About 2 minutes later, Joel comes in, searches behind him around the room before sneaking the little stick off the counter and hustling to the bed. He lies on his back, pops it open, and greedily smears it all over, humming contently and whispering "mmm yeaaaahhhh" before smacking his lips and pursing them out.

You fall over giggling in the bathroom at his new found guilty pleasure.

- - - -

Taglist

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop @himboelover @callsignwidow

[catrawoods]

"My Dearest Brother...

We have learned of your ignominious defeat and are most aggrieved to see your fragile state.

While we do mourn the loss of your sacred dignity,

we are joyed that you shall be able to focus on matters that are within your purview.

Perhaps in time, you shall grow to laugh at this long journey full of its trials and tribulations.

But however...

Long we laugh

long we played

long we cry and fight

anything we're together as friends since youth

the sea will never be guided without you

if you're not there anymore,

our harmony will be not balanced.

as we wished to be kings of the world.

'Oh, God of the Sea, who will comfort you and be at your side when our battle is finished?' i said.

'my wife' you reply

i know and understand your pain and fear about someone would try to put you down as a punishment

And someone came to you for comfort and peace

yet you and all of you in our family would dare to overthrow me as i'm too much like father Kronos.

But i still love you..

you, god of the ocean, my good friend,

are one of my favorite siblings i have like i had with my daughter, your niece, Athena

All of you my people were the ones i had

Brother.. i just wanted to say that..

A life with humans and creatures, and the immortal life would be...

Empty.

I'm sorry that I'm stubborn like father

We all Jealous of each other and defying each other as hell and bullies of shame

argument of attitudes of us went worse

yet we realized that we should bond more that rivalry

We're just men and gods

i love you always

Not Insult and mockery, more of

The Act of our divine love

So hold me up and stay in my side.

Earth shaker..

Your obedient servant and loving brother,

-Zeus”

( Two Old Artworks of the aftermath of rescue before the Titanomachy and the flashback/ childhood of the storm gods.

And the new art of the gigantomachy )

[loveanddeepspacestuffforfreaks]

"Yes Doctor"

Loveanddeepspace stuff for geeks (My sfw stuff)

I hc that Zayne LOVES to call his wife, "Doctor" or just tittles of authority in general. This is the gender-neutral version! (Couldn't find any gender-neutral version term for ma'am...😔... SO I WENT WITH ROYALTY!!! :D)

Zayne x Read, fluff. marriage, Zayne x reader. Sleepy Zayne.

Not proofread. (Sorry).

Guys I love Zayne.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

All it takes is one favor to fall from your pretty little lips and Zayne is out for the count.

"Zayne, pass me the salt, would you?" A tiny smile would form on his lips as his fingers wrapped around the classic saltshaker.

"Is there anything else you need?" He would pull up behind you, trapping you against the counter as he laid the shaker in front of you.

"You're highness??" A whisper in your ear, raising your brow at him as you turned to look at him.

"Your Highness?" You would question as he nuzzled his nose against your hair.

"Am I your ruler?" Taking the salt in our hand before pinching it between your fingers and dusting it over the food.

Zayne would hold your waist, burying his face in your neck you could fine the faint line of his lips curving upwards.

"Would you like to be?" He mused against your skin as you smirked to yourself.

"Haha, maybe."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Zayne found it so cute when you would give him medical advice, your worried tone when you tried to lure him to sleep by cupping his face and dragging him to bed with you.

A collage of concerns, blessing his ears. 'You should sleep more.', 'Eight hours a day...' and his favorite.

"You already work yourself to death, don't you want to relax with me in bed?" You cooed, pouting as he stared down at you. Dark circles under his emerald eyes, shining at the sight of you as he melted against your touch.

"Are those Doctor's orders, hm?" His hands covering yours a tired smirk playing on his lips. "Hm I guess I shouldn't be so negligent~"

A scoff would leave your lips as your sleep deprived husband would mutter his delusions.

"Oh am I the doctor now?" Your eyebrows up in a look of annoyance. He gave a goofy nod in response. "Have you gone so mad without sleep that you've forgotten your occupation?"

A chuckle fell from his lips as he leaned forward, resting his head's weight in your hands.

You rolled your eyes.

"Well then, as your doctor I order you to go to bed." Brushing your thumb along his cheek, Zayne would close his eyes absorbing the affection as much as he could. "Do you understand?"

Eyes lids fluttered open, lashes uncovering the green hue of his forest irises as they looked at you. A playful smirk rolling across his lips, pressing them gently against the palm of your hand as he whispered.

"Yes Doctor~"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[archangeldyke-all]

https://www.tumblr.com/archangeldyke-all/752853003646746624/are-you-still-writing-ceo-sev-requests

Yesss so with Sevika’s work suits she wears those button up shirts you know, and one morning reader decides to just throw on one that Sev left on the floor before going to start breakfast.

When Sev sees reader in her shirt that is completely huge on her she basically folds and jumps on her right then and there in the kitchen. You can add smut if you want 😭

GOD fuck

men and minors dni

yesterday was friday. most fridays, you and sevika manage to sneak out of work an hour early-- you purposely scheduling her to be free by the end of the day-- so you can get a head start on your weekend.

but yesterday, both of you were at the office 'til 10 pm, renewing contracts for the upcoming year and making international calls with investors just waking up on the other side of the world.

so when you got home instead of your usual split bottle of wine and friday movie night, you both just stripped down, too tired to even crawl in your pajamas, and flopped into bed.

you blink awake now as the sun rises on a beautiful summer saturday, and turn over in your bed to admire your snoring wife.

she's adorable. you reach out and gently swipe up the trail of drool sliding down her cheek, and her face twitches a bit at your touch.

while you were there by her side all night last night-- she was the one actually reading and filling out the paperwork; and talking in the meetings. you spent your time on her couch, occasionally taking a note for her, but mostly just scrolling through vacation destinations for your upcoming anniversary. so sevika was a lot more tired than you were last night.

so now, you sneak carefully out of bed, not wanting to wake her before she's well rested. you pull the covers up over her chest and kiss her forehead, and her lips twitch in a subconscious smile before she returns to her loud snores.

you grab the closest thing you can find to cover yourself-- the pink and white pinstriped linen button up she'd worn under her suit yesterday-- and button a few buttons to keep it closed around you as you walk to the kitchen, mentally planning a nice weekend breakfast for your wife.

you flick on the radio, quiet soft jazz filling the air as you examine your cabinets and fridge shelves, checking the ingredients you have to work with.

you pull out butter, flour, eggs and sausage, setting them on the counter before gathering all the bowls and measuring spoons you'll need.

sevika sleeps close 'til noon on the weekends, so you can take your time, soaking in the rising sun as it filters through the penthouse, dancing and swaying to the music of sevika's favorite radio channel.

you start by frying up the sausages. once you're done, you transfer the cooked meat onto a plate, throw it in the microwave to keep it warm, and start a roux in the sausage-grease pan.

from there, it's just a matter of stirring in the milk and spices, making sure to add more pepper than you normally would-- though you're certain sevika will still ask for the shaker.

as the gravy thickens, you start making some simple biscuts-- just flour butter and milk kneaded into little clumps and thrown into the oven.

you're scrambling eggs when sevika wakes up. you can hear her huff and shuffle out of bed into the en-suite from the kitchen, and you grin as you listen to her start her morning routine.

it's these little domestic moments that make all the late nights worth it. listening to the sound of sevika brushing her teeth as you fix her a plate of biscuts, eggs, and sausage-- pouring the gravy over it all, just like she likes it.

and then, when two plates are ready and waiting on the table, you get to work cutting up orange slices to give your plates at least a little color. you look up in time to watch sevika stumble out of the bedroom clad only in her boxers and rubbing her eyes.

you choke back a giggle at her crazy bed-head, and then laugh anyways when sevika finally opens her eyes and they nearly bug out of her head at the sight in front of her.

"goodmorning, baby." you greet. sevika grins. pride swells in your chest at the sight. "go ahead, sit and start, i'll be right there with fruit and coffee." you say.

sevika doesn't head toward the table, though. instead, she rounds the counter and wraps her arms around your waist, pulling you into her chest. you grin up at her.

"i haven't brushed my teeth yet." you warn her. she huffs, then swoops in to kiss you anyways. you hum against her lips, giggling when her hands start to bunch up her shirt over your hips to grope your ass.

"you're in my shirt." she mumbles against your lips.

you chuckle. "your food's on the table." you remind her.

"you're in my shirt." she whines, kissing your neck. you laugh.

sevika's possessiveness isn't exactly subtle. usually it manifests as one of her hands on you at in public, or her matching the colors of her outfit to match yours. sometimes, it comes out like this too.

you're surprised to find that she finds you in her shirt more exciting than breakfast. white gravy and biscuits is her favorite.

"food's gonna get cold." you whimper as she turns you around and backs you up against the counter.

sevika chuckles and shrugs, shoving a leg between your. "thank god we gotta microwave." she mumbles. you giggle, threading your fingers through her hair. "fuck, you look so fuckin' good in my clothes." she grunts as she starts pulling your hips back and forth on her thigh. she's rock hard against your hip, her tits pressed your chest as she kisses you.

"s-sevika..." you whine.

"cum on my thigh, baby, lemme make you feel good. 's my thank you for breakfast." she mumbles. you giggle-moan, then lean forward to press your lips to your wife's as she continues to slide your wet cunt on her bare thigh. "you're so fuckin' wet." she groans.

"s-sev--" you gasp.

"give it to me baby. then we can eat, then i can fuck you while you do the dishes in my shirt."

you whimper. "y-you do the d-dishes." you grunt. sevika snorts.

"fine. you can wear my shirt 'n fuck me while i do the dishes." she offers. you nod and then cum to seal the deal. sevika laughs, peppering kisses all over your face and neck as you shiver apart in her arms. "there you go, baby."

sevika holds you until you catch your breath, but once she's sure you can stand on your own she gives you a breath taking kiss and then sprints to the table-- a grin on her face as she digs into her food. you burst into laughter.

"'s so fuckin' good, tha'k y' s'much." sevika mumbles around her bite.

"don't choke." you plea. she shoots you a wink, and you roll your eyes fondly before you go back to cutting orange slices.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @vikasub @glass-apothecary @m0numents @macaroni676 @vixel352 @artinvain

[wbcannibalgf]

Stumbling into the apartment in the middle of the night, caked in mud and twigs, presenting a single ant: see honey, i told you someone was leaving taylor hebert references in the forest :)

My wife (not looking up from her laptop as she googles 'worm themed divorce'): That's very nice, dear. Maybe you could Mover/Shaker the trash out next?

[toomuchracket]

day drinking (ross x girlband gf!reader smut)

first ever ross smut fic can u believe. anyway. summer75. warnings for exhibitionism and everyone being vaguely slaggy. enjoy <3

you're rinsing glasses in the kitchen when the doorbell goes. quickly wiping your hands, you weave your way through the house to the front door, scooping the cat up so she can't make a beeline for the street as soon as you open the door. when you do, you smile at the sight of gabbriette and matty, the latter holding a wine carrier in one hand. “hi, my darlings!”

“hello to you, too, gorgeous,” gabbriette pulls you into a quick hug, cooing at the kitten and taking the bag from her fiancé as she saunters towards the kitchen. “sorry we're late. one of us couldn't decide on an outfit, and it wasn't me.”

matty rolls his eyes, dropping a kiss on your head. “god forbid i wanna look good enough to keep up with the two of you - you really do look lovely, darling,” he ruffles your hair, before catching sight of the cat and beaming at her. “and who are you, baby?”

“oh, i forgot you haven't met nico yet!” you hold the cat up, and matty takes her in his arms eagerly, holding her as if she was a baby. “isn't she cute?”

“i'm literally gonna take her home with me.”

you snort, crossing the threshold to the kitchen, where gabbriette's already assembling snacks. “good luck trying to get her past ross. that's his baby you're holding right there, you know.”

gabbriette giggles. “i love that for him.”

“yeah, it's cute. now,” you clap your hands. “drinks? we've got… most things.”

“margs?”

“whatever you want, wifey, you'll get,” you kiss her nose, and she and matty both giggle; you kiss his, too, for equality, and they both laugh even harder. “ross has got a guinness surge machine outside now, matty, if you want…”

he shoves the cat into your arms and speeds out to the garden as quickly as you've ever seen him, so fast you half expect to see a looney tunes-esque trail of dust behind him. his wife-to-be sighs. “he's nuts.”

you bump your hip against hers on your way to lay the cat on her climbing tree. “and you're gonna marry him.”

“yeah,” her pretty face goes all dreamy, and it warms your heart. after a beat, though, she winks cheekily. “and then you're gonna marry his best friend.”

your cheeks burn, but still lift into a smile at the thought of tying the knot with ross; neither of you have explicitly brought it up to each other, but you hope it'll happen one day. he is the love of your life, after all. “well, maybe someday,” you busy yourself with salting the rim of two coupé glasses, and adding lime to the tequila and agave already in the cocktail shaker. “i just don't know if he wants to, y'know?”

gabbriette scoffs. “oh, please. he looks at you so intimately that we all feel like we're intruding just by being in the vicinity, and you don't know if he wants to marry you? come on, babe.”

she's got a point, to be fair. ross's gaze is so sweetly intense that it sometimes makes you weak in the knees, so overwhelming that you have to look away or bury your face into his chest to cope; you've a sneaking suspicion that's why he does it, because it gives him an excuse to hold you close and softly rub your back and whisper that he loves you into your hair.

some days, though, your boyfriend doesn't need an excuse to be affectionate with you like that, and today is seemingly one of those days. practically as soon you've stepped outside to join him and the rest of your friends, gabbriette in tow, ross is waving you over to him with a “c'mere, love, sit with me”. when you put your cocktail on the little side table and oblige, he tugs you further onto his lap, kissing your temple; you sink into his chest, warm from the afternoon sun, and take in the scene in front of you. george is deep in conversation with carly, whose son is half lying across a sunlounger and half across his aunt charli; she’s talking to matty - insouciantly draped on a beanbag next to you - and adam, who shuffles along the rattan couch so gabbriette can sit down. she takes a sip of her margarita and nods at you approvingly. “this is good, babe.”

you wink. “that's the tequila you got me for my birthday.”

“can i try?” ross's face screws up when he tries the drink - very cutely, though. “christ, that's strong.”

“maybe you're just a lightweight,” you tease, flicking his nose. “can't hack it anymore. oh my god, maybe you're getting old.”

he bites playfully at your fingers to make you laugh. “am not!”

before you can respond, baby hann chips in with all of the tact a three-year-old can have - which is, you know, none at all. “yeah you are.”

he looks pleased with himself as the grown-ups burst into laughter, cuddling into charli when she kisses his head proudly. you lean across to hi-five your nephew, while ross rolls his eyes and tries (poorly) to keep the smile from his face. “and here i thought we were pals, mate.”

“we are! but you're still old.”

the laughter increases, even ross chuckling. you love these moments, you really do, sat in the sunshine with the people you love most in the world, everyone happy and bright. the atmosphere lingers even after the sun sets and the hanns head home, the youngest asleep in his mother's arms after a day spent stroking nico and playing football with his uncles and learning snippets of spanish from auntie gabbi; you stay curled up against ross, only moving to refill your drink or take a lazy hit of the joint being passed around the remaining six of you.

at some point - you've no idea what time it is, too tipsy and high and happy to take note of such trivial things - the breeze picks up slightly, passing over your bare legs and leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. you shiver, and ross looks down at you, concern in his warm eyes. “you cold, pretty girl?”

“little bit. my legs.”

he smiles, scooping you onto him and wrapping an arm around your knees. “better?”

“mhmm. thank you,” you pout, and he kisses you, slightly longer than could be considered polite amidst company. still, it's good. “love you.”

“love you too, baby.”

across from you, george pretends to retch. he giggles when you scowl at him, blowing you a kiss. “i'm taking the piss. you guys are cute.”

his other half pipes up. “and really fucking hot,” she downs the rest of her wine, and you brace yourself for her inevitable next statement. “i still maintain you'd make a killing on onlyfans, by the way.” 

the boys all shake their heads and mutter swear words in dismay, while you laugh. only gabbriette stays unaffected, taking a puff of her fiancé's cigarette and turning to charli. “oh, you wouldn't be able to handle watching them like that.”

charli cackles. “and you would?”

“maybe,” gabbriette smirks knowingly at you. “i'd happily try.”

you smirk right back. “yeah, i bet you would.”

she already has, live and in-person with her fiancé on ross's birthday, but charli and george don't need to know that. and, honestly, you don't need to be thinking about that night right now either, not when you're already slightly amorous from the drinks and the joint and just being in your boyfriend's arms. you have a sneaking suspicion that ross is aware that's how you feel; he adjusts you so you're sat more between his legs than on them, and calls a request to his friend. “matty, chuck us that blanket, will you?”

you squint up at your boyfriend as he spreads the fabric over your legs. “m'not that cold, baby.”

“no?” ross smiles, the somewhat manic glint in his eye sending shocks of anticipation through you - you know what that look means, and the way he lowers his voice to speak directly in your ear. “you don't need me to warm you up?”

heat floods through you, settling in your cheeks and underwear. “now?”

“no time like the present, love. s'your call, though.”

you glance at your friends, all four of them preoccupied in some sort of debate and getting progressively louder with each passing second, then look back at ross with a smile. “yes, please.”

“alright,” he leans down to kiss you, strategically timing it so your whimper at his hand sliding into your underwear is muffled by his lips. “not a sound, you hear me? not sharing you today, my girl.”

“mmmkay… oh, fuck,” you hiss against his mouth as two calloused fingers slip inside your needy cunt. “m'sorry, i just,” you exhale as ross gives you a second to adjust, before experimentally pulling out and beginning to slowly finger-fuck you. “feels really good.”

“i know, baby,” ross coos, centimetres from your face. “doing so well for me. keep it up, yeah? but,” he pulls back, shuffling you so it looks more like he's hugging you. “you're the hostess. don't be antisocial.”

fuck him.

but he won't let you do that if you disobey. so, instead, you take a deep breath, turning your head slightly so your friends can see more of your face. ross speeds up his movements - a test - and you feel him smile into your hair when you don't react other than clenching around him. “good girl.”

you smile softly at the praise, doing your best to focus on the conversation around you rather than what's happening inside you. for the most part, it's easy, ross's perpetual inability to fall out of rhythm working in your favour here - you quickly grow accustomed to the thrusting of his fingers and their tempo, the pleasure they're giving you firmly in the background behind the melody of your friends talking.

and then he changes angle.

you squeak, hastily turning it into a cough and praying nobody notices - unluckily, charli does, turning to look at you with concern. “you alright, babe?”

“yeah,” you manage to croak out, doing your best to trap ross's hand between your thighs so you can answer calmly. “just caught the smoke, i think. but please continue.”

you aren't sure whether that was aimed at her or ross. both oblige you, though, charli going back to yapping about a recent holiday while your boyfriend does his best to get you off. and it's working - the heel of his hand bumps against your clit with every thrust, while those long, long fingers of his hook into your g-spot and send sparks shooting through your nervous system. suddenly, george starts to look blurry as he talks across from you, and you make the executive decision to turn and snuggle into ross so nobody can see the tears in your eyes. being social be damned; you can't have your friends seeing you like this, because they'll put all the attention on you and ask what's wrong, and ross will stop. and wouldn't that be the worst thing of all, when you're as close to climax as you are?

ross knows you're about to cum, of course he does, and discreetly wipes your tears away before pressing his forehead to yours. to your friends, it would look like a tender moment, two lovers being affectionate, instead of the depravity it really is, with him murmuring “don't fight it, love. cum for me” and smiling when you obey with every muscle in your body tensed. the pleasure is almost blinding as it reaches its peak, manifesting in chattering teeth and the shaky exhale of breath that leaves your lips as you come down - despite it all, you smile into your boyfriend's chest, humming as he gently pulls his fingers from you and quickly brings them to his mouth. your eyes widen at the boldness, but ross simply giggles and whispers in your ear. “wasn't gonna waste it, was i?”

“you're an idiot,” you sigh, kissing him quickly and smiling at the faint tang of yourself on his tongue. “i love you, though. a lot.”

“love you, too,” ross kisses your nose. “wouldn't have fingered you in front of all our friends if i didn't.”

you smack him on the arm as he laughs, and you've just opened your mouth to respond when a familiar voice from the beanbag beside you cuts in, equally as quiet as you and ross. “fucking knew it. freaks.”

shit.

[bigidiotenergytm]

Odysseus breathes. He breathes in as best he can and he lets himself shudder. He feels the blood sliding down his skin and for a second, he lets himself hope.

Do the Gods gossip and share secrets? Lady Athena doesn’t seem like the type.

“How can one belong to someone who belongs to another?” He asks. He tries to pull the leash on his pride, but it still slips out. He cannot control something so integral to his soul.

He lets his eyes follow Poseidon, but he doesn’t turn his body. He cannot give into fear, he can only show it in bits. He will not give this God everything he has.

Not until he must.

“Lady Athena, Goddess of Wisdom, I am her warrior, Lord Poseidon,” Odysseus reminds. It is the last card he has. It is the only card he has. “I belong to her. I am her’s just as I am Ithaca’s.”

He thinks of his home.

He thinks of his wife, of his darling son.

He must get home. He must get his men home.

“Athens may have chosen lady Athena and lady Athena chose me.” He wonders if that trident will find its way to his heart next. “But, if it will please you, if it will save my people, my men, myself, I will rescind my allegiance to Athena and give it to you.”

Blood trickles down slower. Another breath slowly whispers out of him.

Hope.

A PALPABLE thing, that is. A will that remains so strong, so valiant, that even facing down the Earth-Shaker does not seem to deter Odysseus of Ithaca. When in the jaws of a shark, this man does not budge. When in the jaws of a shark, he still MOCKS.

How easy it'd be to unhinge his equine jaw. How easy it'd be for his rows of glowing teeth to protrude. How easy it'd be to widen his maw, and quickly sink it into mortal flesh. He can smell it... That one, singular drop of blood. Snout getting closer. A mighty huff from his nostrils.

Jaw opening wider with every word. The deep sea dripping from his teeth and onto his PREY. Salivating. Every. Single. Word. Odysseus of Ithaca, every word that comes from your silver-tongue threatens to drag you UNDER.

Another huff from the steed. Until Poseidon RESISTS. Hooves stomping against wood as he sharply turns from the little king. The Sea God's form shifts yet again. Back to the form the very sculptors of Greece take inspiration from. His trident, glistening under Helios.

"'Give.'" A sigh. Odysseus still hasn't learned. The trident's then tossed carelessly between taloned hands. "I could just kill you. Your men. Drown your tiny little island for what you've done. Assuming the act of blinding my son can be redeemed through your SERVITUDE... your ego rivals that of my Brother, little king."

Poseidon pauses. "Say I blinded your son. That I GAUGED his little human eyes out. Left him to cry, to bleed, TO REMEMBER. Such a dark moment. Tell me, King of Ithaca, in your kingdom, how much TIME would a crime like that be served for? Would you expect an eye for the one your son lost? Would you KILL who hurt him?" They're genuine questions, although his tone does not read as such. Poseidon truly is curious about Odysseus's hypocrisy. If he believes his own son triumphs His. Maybe, as the thumb jabs itself into the wound, the king would give himself a LIGHTER sentence in comparison to what should be served. The Sea God would be none the wiser, wouldn't he?

This wasn't about the punishment. It was about if Odysseus believed he DESERVED it.