#having said this aloud lmao

[shorlinesorrows]

sometimes I run into discourse about The Odyssey vs. EPIC: The Musical and I get tired

this is why I think we need to start taking a more oral tradition approach to stories like the Odyssey tbh, and I'd argue stories in general

The original and the adaptation being different, or the characters being different, doesn't make one or the other Wrong.

EPIC isn't claiming to be a direct retelling of the Odyssey, and the Odyssey doesn't need to be put under a moral microscope just to prove that "Odysseus was a Bad Guy Actually i can't believe you like EPIC" or "The Actual moral of everything is This."

Analysis is good, but we don't have to do it to spite other people's enjoyment of a piece of art!

One of the most beautiful things about many oral traditions is that the story changes over time. It grows to fit the ideas and needs of the people it's being told to and the place it's being told in. Each storyteller remembers different details more vividly, or adds a little flair, or forgets a few words, or adds a few words, and it grows.

EPIC doesn't have to be the Odyssey, and the Odyssey doesn't have to be EPIC. Enjoy them both. Adaptations and spins off of stories aren't a bad thing in themselves, even if they're different.

Heck, the Odyssey was almost Definitely an adaptation, conglomeration, or re-telling of other stories that were told orally before it was written down. And I'd bet that it continued to evolve and change even after it was put to paper. I highly doubt The Odyssey the only version of this story there was, long before our time.

It's fine if you dislike one or the other in any adaptation! Hell knows I've absolutely despised some adaptations of media i enjoyed in the past. That's not a bad thing. But one story isn't objectively morally better or worse compared to another in adaptations.

Basically, my whole point is that both the Odyssey and EPIC are Great to me personally, but they aren't completely the same thing and that's what makes them great.

And I think people maybe need to be ok with that!

[synnthamonsugar]

"Victorian England Drifteris"

Drawn for a server silly (context below)

[peresephoknee]

2019 was a horrible year though. The most alone I’ve ever been with no human contact for weeks at a time outside of class. I felt like a ghost wandering around a city waiting for someone to see me to prove I was real.

[witchern]

oh did i mention i FINALLY finished watching s3 of the witcher lmao

[inutaffy]

if my bff did that to me i'd absolutely off myself

[exhaustedwerewolf]

new @spire-pod episode has me flipping out… (major major major spoilers please go listen to spire I listen to obscene amounts of audio drama and it is possibly the best show airing rn) but irl!malachi and carley being completely opposite to malachi and cosima has me doing backflips, I love this! “I only got a c on my gcses” “I’m flat broke” your honour I love him.

[astrangeriddle]

Just saved my mother from getting scammed out of 600€ how tf does this keep happening!!!!

[elegyofthemoon]

Oh and then Surepio decided to hit me hard because I read some notes I had about his grave and the area surrounding it being covered in weapons. I mean Enkanomiya is like all covered by weapons, but I wonder how much more so is Surepio's area

Because I could possibly see Surepio being well-guarded because of his frail being, with more Jibashiri being stationed by his door or even in his room to be close for guarding.

Maybe for that reason Surepio also hoped to be a physician as well. So many people protecting him he wants to do the same and keep them safe

[fidogo]

john price x reader, but accidentally running into the 141 after only going on a few dates with Price wc: 0.9K warnings: mentions of sex, age gap, daddy kink, dacryphilia, use of sweetheart + angel a/n: I make such a stupid joke in this about Ghost and Soap LMAO forgive me part 2

The pub was warm, a sweet haven from the chill outside. It was already decked out with cheap garlands and holiday lights, all hung with care. Your friends tear off to the bar to order a few drinks, leaving you to find a booth. 

You slink through the chairs and the tables, making a beeline to the one available booth. You’re about to get nice and cozy when you stop in your tracks. 

He’s here.

You didn’t know John terribly well. The two of you had only gone on a few very successful dates, but you were not close enough to know who he was sitting with.

What you did know was this:

1. John was older than you.

2. He was an absolute gentleman whenever he took you out.

3. He really liked when you called him daddy and liked fucking you until you were in tears (and after...especially after). 

Back to the three men at the table with him. Given their demeanor, it was safe to assume they were also military. One of them was maybe Gaz/Kyle...bu that was it.

Your feet move automatically. (Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you wonder if you should stop walking and go back to the booth you found. Maybe it’s too early to meet his friends.)

The men’s boisterous voices quiet as you approach, and the one with a mohawk elbows one who's masked. You ignore them, focusing on John, whose face softens a smidge (and his eyes light up).

“Hi, John.” You’re a little more nervous than you thought you would be. (He had you creaming on his cock and whining like you were in heat the other night. This should be nothing!)

“Hi, Sweetheart,” he answers, standing to kiss your cheek. “What’re you doing here?” His eyes are warm and earnest, immediately putting your anxieties to rest.

“Just getting a drink with my friends before the new year. Things are about to pick up, so we’re trying to just get a drink one last time.” John looks at you so fondly, it warms your heart. Fuck the alcohol, fuck the fire or radiator or whatever’s in here, all you need is John Price to look at you like this to make you warm and toasty. 

“Would you all want to sit with us?” He asks, knocking on the table. You glance at the table full table, trying not to laugh at his friend's expressions (shock and disbelief coupled with some respect for Price). 

Remembering his manners, John introduces you to his men and places one large, strong, hand on the small of your back.  You lean into him slightly, trying to not seem too pleased to be here with him. 

“This is Gaz, Soap, and Ghost,” John introduces. You freeze, confused for a second. You thought..... Oh. Oh.

“Oh.” You say aloud. Stupidly. John quirks a brow at you, prompting you to ramble on.

“I’m sorry. To be candid, I thought Soap and Ghost were your dogs..." you say trailing off at the end.

To be fair, he had only ever been to your place. You stare at Soap and Ghost. Based on the small amount of information you knew, you had just assumed...

John lets out a deep laugh and pulls you closer into his side. 

“What?” Soap yells. He’s no longer checking you out appreciatively and just looks at you in disbelief. “How could you think that, lassie?” 

“Well, John seems like a man who lives alone with two big dogs that have manly names.” You explain, sinking more into John’s side, trying to embed yourself into this warmth.

His thumb lightly strokes your back, sending shivers up your spine. He's so big and strong and... Your brain turns to mush for a second.

“Well, what about Gaz?” Soap gestures to said man, trying desperately to make any ground in this. Your push away your vaguely horny thoughts. You have to lock back in for Kyle's sake. You smile at Gaz and politely extend your hand. 

“No, I knew Kyle was a man. A pleasure to meet you.” Gaz shakes your hand and beams while Soap slumps over, and Ghost looks like he’s rethinking how he got here.

“Need to work on your manners. That way when Captain talks about you, people don’t think you're dogs,” Gaz says drawing out and emphasizing dogs with a cheeky smile. Soap just grumbles. 

“Anyway,” you start to say, turning your attention back to John. “My friends and I are about to take that booth back there, but thank you for the offer. But call me. Or text.” He nods and leans in to press a quick, chaste to your lips. 

“Have a good night, Sweetheart.” You nod before going to finally claim your booth. 

You hear Soap ask why John ‘calls Kyle by his name but not me or Simon’, making you smile. They seem nice.

And then you hear what you assume to be Ghost, say, “Not bad, Captain. Not bad at all.”

You preen at that, chipper mood carrying you through the night, even as your friends bombard you with questions once they’re all seated.

You wave shyly at John and his friends when they eventually file out into the cold. John sends you a wink that has you sinking into the booth. You’re so fucked. 

About 15 minutes later, your phone buzzes.

Can’t stop thinking about you, angel

Apparently, he’s fucked too.

part 2

[sofiasworld00]

Streamin’

Lando Norris x reader

Summary: Lando and reader on stream w Max just chatting shit.

Warnings: just fluff.

Word count: 1K (ish)

“Alright, alright, we’re live,” Lando announced, grinning at the camera. “Be nice to us today, chat.”

“Speak for yourself,” Max chimed in, leaning back in his own chair. “I’m always nice. It’s you two we need to worry about. PDA central over there.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped. “Jealous, Max?” you teased, glancing over your shoulder at Lando, who smirked as he clicked around on his setup.

“Jealous? Of what? Sitting uncomfortably while streaming?” Max shot back, raising an eyebrow at the screen.

“It’s not uncomfortable,” Lando argued, giving your waist a gentle squeeze. “Y/N’s like a…weighted blanket. Keeps me focused.”

The chat went wild at that, spamming laughing emojis and “LMAO” in rapid succession. You leaned closer to read a few messages, your face lighting up. “‘Lando’s whipped,’” you read aloud, laughing. “See? Chat gets it.”

“Of course they do. It’s obvious,” Max deadpanned. “You’ve got the man sitting there like a lovesick puppy.”

“I am not a puppy,” Lando said indignantly, though the grin tugging at his lips said otherwise. He tapped his mic. “Alright, chat. What do you want to know? Max is here. I’m here. Y/N is here. Ask away.”

“Dangerous,” you murmured, leaning into his chest as you scrolled through the chat. “You’re giving them too much power.”

Max squinted at his monitor, his forehead scrunching. “First question is for me. ‘Max, when are you getting a girlfriend?’” He snorted, shaking his head. “Wow. Straight to the point.”

“Yeah, Max, when are you getting a girlfriend?” Lando teased, his chin brushing the top of your head. “Or are you too busy third-wheeling?”

“I am not third-wheeling! I’m—” Max paused, reading another chat message and bursting into laughter. “‘Max is the poster child for single awareness month.’ Alright, you lot are ruthless.”

“Chat, be nice,” you said, though you couldn’t help your giggle. “Max is a catch. Right, Lando?”

Lando hummed noncommittally. “Yeah, sure. If you like loud, annoying people.”

“I don’t even know why I’m here,” Max groaned, feigning offense. “I should just leave you two to your little couple’s stream.”

The chat erupted again, half of it teasing Max, while the other half flooded with messages about you and Lando. You leaned closer to the screen to read some of them, your cheeks warming. “‘How long have you and Lando been together?’” you read aloud, looking up at him.

“Two years,” Lando answered instantly, his voice softening. “Best two years of my life, not gonna lie.”

“Aw,” Max interjected sarcastically, making a gagging noise. “And here I thought this was gonna be a fun stream.”

“Shut it,” Lando said, grinning as he threw a virtual item at Max in the game they were queued up for. “You’re just mad because chat likes us better.”

You laughed, resting your head on Lando’s shoulder as he navigated through the game menus. His fingers were quick on the keyboard, but his free hand stayed on your hip, absentmindedly tracing small circles. The gesture was comforting, grounding, and you could tell by the way chat continued to spam heart emojis that they noticed too.

“Alright, serious question now,” Max said, squinting dramatically at the screen. “‘Y/N, who’s funnier: Lando or Max?’”

You paused, biting back a smile as you felt both of their gazes on you. “Oh, that’s easy. Me.”

Max doubled over laughing while Lando groaned loudly, leaning back in his chair. “Traitor,” Lando muttered, though his grin gave him away.

“Chat, back me up here,” you said, pointing at the camera. “I’m the funniest, right?”

The flood of “Y/N supremacy” messages that followed made Lando shake his head in mock defeat. “Unbelievable. You’ve got them all wrapped around your finger.”

“Just like you,” you quipped, earning a low chuckle from him.

The stream continued in the same playful, lighthearted rhythm, with the three of you bantering back and forth and answering questions from chat. Lando occasionally leaned closer to the camera to read something, his curls brushing your cheek, and each time he did, the chat would erupt with comments about how soft he looked with you.

By the end of it, Max had threatened to block half the chat for calling him single (again), and Lando had leaned back in his chair, holding you closer as the stream wound down.

“Alright, chat,” Lando said, smiling lazily. “Thanks for hanging out. Be nice to Max in the comments, yeah?”

“Yeah, right,” Max grumbled, though he waved at the camera. “See you all next time, maybe. If I survive this public humiliation.”

As the stream ended and the screen went black, Lando kissed your temple softly. “Still think letting chat have free rein was a good idea?” he teased.

You shrugged, smiling. “They loved it. And they love us. So yeah, totally worth it.”

“Guess I can’t argue with that,” he murmured, holding you close as the laughter from the stream lingered in the air.

thank u for reading! i appreciate feedback from you as well.

[juniperskye]

That’ll Show Them.

Based on the following ask: 🥰 yay!! Okay. (Deep breath), so the idea was basically either preschool or elementary school setting. Hotch being a sexy single dad has most of the single (and not!) Moms drooling over him. Y/N or Reader is a single mom, not one of those drooling but definitely sees that he's attractive. But her kid (girl or boy) happens to quickly become Jack's BFF and this causes natural interactions and conversations between her and Hotch over the next few weeks which makes the other moms salty and jealous, and she overhears them at one point speculating that she probably told her kid to befriend Jack just so she could get closer to Hotch. I didn't really think of an ending for it but just had an idea of a scene where she's trying to remain calm and unaffected while overhearing them talking about her and giving side eye. Maybe Hotch hears it too and comes to her defense? Or makes them even saltier by asking her out in front of them? 😈 @nyxwolph thank you for requesting this! I did adjust a little bit, so I hope you like it!!

Aaron Hotchner x Single Mom! Reader

Angst/Fluff

Word count: 3569

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, some explicit language, reader is a single mom, mention of divorce, school moms being shitty, mention of Hotch’s ex father-in-law being ill, no use of y/n, Fem reader, reader has no physical description other than being shorter than hotch, reader is mentioned/implied to own a shop (no details), gay best friend, Hotch starts work at 8am (idk what the BAU hours are lmao) let me know if I missed any!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

The moms were ruthless. You were barely three months into the school year and already you had been completely ostracized from the “mom group.” Part of you had assumed it was because the majority of these moms had all caught wind of your very public, messy divorce. The other part of you, however, knew that the main reason you’d been exiled was him.

Aaron HOTTIE Hotchner, as the other moms called him, had taken Ms. Jenson’s third grade class by storm. Meet the teacher night had been a frenzy of horny moms all praying their child ended up in the same class as Aaron’s son. There were hushed conversations and giggles, and hair flips all night long, you had felt bad for the teachers since their presentations had fallen second to the gossip travelling through the halls about the hot single dad.

“I heard he works for the FBI!”

“I heard he’s a widower. Could you even imagine?”

“Wow. He must be pretty amazing, a single dad and working for the FBI!”

“Can we be real for a moment and just admire how hot he is?”

“Did you see his hands?”

“Yes! Did you see his suit? I love a well-dressed man.”

They were vultures, every single one of them, and Aaron was their newest victim. He, of course, had been completely oblivious to the blatant flirting – he returned every advance they made with a kind smile or polite nod. And listen, you weren’t going to deny that Aaron was hot…you just weren’t trying to be like those other moms and gush about it at meet the teacher night.

Your being excluded by the class moms had only gotten worse since Jack and Millie had become friends. Millie had told you on the first day of school, that a boy had pushed her down on the playground, and before you could panic, she told you that a different boy…one named Jack…had helped her up. She said after that, they sat together at lunch and read aloud.

You could barely contain you excitement. Since the divorce, Millie had been having a tough time making friends – mainly because the moms told their kids to stay away. Your ex had been quite cozy with some of the moms at Millie’s last school and you had eventually found out he was sleeping with one of them. Once the divorce was finalized and you had full custody, you’d moved and that meant a new school for Millie.

Realistically that should’ve been the end of the drama, but it just so happens that the girl who your husband slept with…well her sister’s child was in the same class as Millie. He of course was the kid that pushed Millie down on the first day of school.

It shouldn’t have bothered you, their constant whispers…but it had you seething. This was an everyday occurrence now that you drove Jack home. The moms all waiting for dismissal engaging in hushed conversations about how desperate you must be.

“I bet she told her daughter to befriend his son.”

“What a sad way to get his attention.”

“Well, I mean, her ex did cheat…so she’s probably desperate.”

“She’s ridiculous if you ask me.”

This new development has begun exactly two weeks ago. Jack and Millie had been on their sixth playdate – this had been the first one Aaron had been able to host (due to work obvi) which had led to you staying and the two of you talking about how demanding his work schedule must be. He had told you it kept him pretty busy and that his sister-in-law had been extremely helpful, but with her father falling ill, she was growing increasingly busy.

“You know, I could drive Jack. If you’re comfortable with it.” You offered.

“I couldn’t possibly ask that of you!” Aaron panicked.

“It’s a good thing you didn’t ask…I’m offering. I already have to drive to the school to get Millie, I could grab Jack and the two of them could hang out until you are off work. And if your sister-in-law ever can’t watch him while you’re away, know that I am more than willing.” You punctuated with a kind smile.

“What if I take them to school, I don’t need to be at work until eight, and then you could pick them up? That way it is even. Obviously when I’m out of town, which wouldn’t necessarily be possible, but I could coordinate with Jess and…” Aaron was spiraling.

“Aaron. If you want to take them to school when you’re in town, that would be great. That would allow me the time I need in the shop before opening. When you are out of town, if Jack is staying with me, I will take them to and from school – if he’s with Jess, she doesn’t have to worry about Millie okay?” You suggested.

“You’re a godsend. You know that?” Aaron said, a smile growing on his face.

“Yeah well, Jack has been an incredible friend to Millie, and I would love for them to spend more time together. Plus, the house has been so quiet and, I don’t know. It would be nice to have the kids there.” There was a slight cringe that was brought with the insinuation of your divorce.

“I appreciate it either way.” Aaron gently nudged your shoulder.

So, for the last two weeks, Aaron had been driving the kids to school and you had been picking them up. He shockingly had yet to be called on a case…but you knew it was only a matter of time.

Aaron was called away a few days later, he had let you know that Jess would be watching Jack. That had sent a tinge of pain right to your heart. In truth, you were attracted to Aaron, and the more time you spent with him, you were starting to fall for him. You tried not to focus too much on the fact that he’d sent Jack to stay with Jess…chalking up to the fact that Aaron probably didn’t want to burden you – even though he could never.

You didn’t hear from Aaron until nearly two weeks later.

A: Hey, we just got back from this case. I’ll pick Millie up in the morning for school. Are you good to pick up Jack after?

Y: Hey! Yeah I can pick them up tomorrow. I have to take Millie to get her cleats and shin guards for soccer, is it okay if Jack tags along?

A: I totally forgot soccer starts next weekend. If I sent some money in Jack’s backpack could you pick up his stuff too?

Y: Of course! Will you be late tomorrow?

A: Probably, after a case like this, there’s a lot of paperwork to be done. I will try to be there by 7pm if that’s okay.

Y: 7 is fine, we will get homework done and I will feed them and have Jack all ready for you!

A: Thank you. Seriously I don’t know what I’d do without you.

The next day you arrived at the school at 2:45 pm to pick up the kids. You parked your car like always and stood in wait with the other parents. You were checking your phone to see where the nearest sporting goods store was when one of the dads approached you.

“Hey, is Millie ready for soccer to start?”

“Oh, hey Scott! Yeah she is so excited! What about Macy?” You questioned.

“She’s nervous, but she told me she was glad Millie and Jack were playing too. Michael was really bummed that the girls weren’t in a class together this year.” Scott explained.

“I was too! How is Michael? We should all have dinner some time!” You suggested.

“He’s good, and I am sure he would love to have you and your new beau over for a meal – I will talk to him when we get home!” Scott beamed.

“New beau…what are you talking about? Do you mean Aaron? He and I, we’re not…” You stuttered.

“Don’t worry, it’s okay! You should be bragging to all those bitches that you bagged the hot DILF! Don’t let them spoil something good for you hon.” Scott gently squeezed your arm.

Just as you opened your mouth to reply, the kids came running out. Macy ran to hug her dad while Jack and Millie made their way to you. Both kids hugged you and then said their goodbyes to Macy. You moved to grab their hands and guide them to the car, but not without catching the glares from all the moms. They must’ve heard Scott and you talking…and while you and Aaron weren’t dating, it didn’t hurt to let them believe it for a bit.

After getting the kids soccer gear, you took them home and got them started on their homework and gave them some apple slices. You checked a few emails, changed the washer and dryer, and wrote up your grocery list in the meantime.

When they were done with their homework, you checked their work and then quizzed them on their spelling words. By then it was nearly 5:30 pm, you set the two of them up in the living room with a coloring book and some Legos while you got dinner started. You made some grilled chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans – for the kids, you added some cheese to the potatoes and cut up the chicken – setting that on the table for them alongside a glass of chocolate milk.

“Kids, time for dinner!” You hollered.

“Coming mom!” Millie called.

You were about 10 minutes into dinner when a knock sounded from the front door. You excused yourself and walked over to let Aaron in.

“Hey, we were just having dinner, can I get you a plate?” You offered.

“Oh, as long as it’s not an imposition!” Aaron replied.

“Aaron, how many times do I have to tell you that it’s not an imposition. I like having you around.” You stopped abruptly, embarrassed that you’d let that slip. “I mean, you know, it’s nice that Millie and Jack are friends…I uh. I…”

“I know what you mean. And I like having you around too.” He said, finally stepping fully into the house.

Aaron placed a gentle hand on the small of your back to guide you toward the kitchen. You plated him up some food and he joined you at the table, sitting right beside you. You couldn’t help the growing heat that bloomed on your cheeks as his arm brushed against your own. The room was filled with the playful chatter of the eight-year-olds that sat across from you, giggles escaping them as they recounted the events of their day at school.

Glancing over, you noticed the joy radiating from Aaron’s expression. You hadn’t seen him this genuinely happy in all the time you’ve known him, and you wonder if it is because he doesn’t get to relax like this often. The thought allows your mind to drift even further – splaying images of cooking for the four of you all the time, of late nights cuddled with Aaron and even further into the future, welcoming a new child to the family you’ve curated…only it's all in your head.

“You alright?” Aaron whispers. His warm breath against your ear causes a chill to cascade across your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“Yeah, I’m good. Sorry, just lost in thought.”

“Hey mom, is Jack’s dad going to be my new dad?” Millie posed, causing you to choke on the bite of chicken you’d just taken.

“Woah, sweetheart you’re okay, just breathe!” Aaron patted your back gently. “Here, take a sip of water.”

Taking a swig, the chicken makes its way down. “Mills…baby where did you get that idea?”

“Well Rain said that his mom said that you were moving in on Jack’s dad, and I thought that if we were moving in, then that would make him my new dad!” Millie smiled.

It was Aaron who choked this time, only it was on his water, causing some of it to certainly escape through his nose. He pulled his napkin to his face as he coughed in an attempt to clear his airway.

“Aar…breathe.” You returned the favor of patting him gently on the back. “Are you okay?”

He answered with a nod and allowed a chuckle to escape his mouth before looking up to meet your gaze. Aaron wasn’t ignorant of the fact that the other moms had been eyeing him since the beginning of the year, he just hadn’t realized that they’d gone after you due to your budding closeness.

“Millie, Rain’s mom is just kidding. Jack’s dad and I are becoming good friends, like you and Jack, and they don’t like that, so they’re saying some not so nice things.” You explained.

“Oh…okay.” Millie said, a small pout gracing her features.

A pout that pulled on not only yours, but also Aaron’s heartstrings. He allowed himself a glance in your direction and took careful note of the hurt and disappointment that flashed across your own features briefly. Was it possible you felt more than you were letting on?

Six days later you received a call at four in the morning. It hadn’t been the thing to wake you up, but it came as a surprise, nonetheless.

“Hello?”

“Hey, I just got a call about a time sensitive case and Jess is dealing with her dad. Would you mind taking Jack while I am away?”

“Aaron, of course! Do you need me to come and get him?”

“No, I will get a bag together for him and drop him off on my way to the office. I am going to leave you with a key to my place just in case Jack needs anything. Thank you for doing this, seriously it means a lot.”

“It’s really not a problem, I will have a bed made up for him by the time you get here.”

“Thanks sweetheart, see you soon.”

With that, Aaron hung up, and for the second time you were taken by surprise at the pet name he so casually referred to you by. You had to remind yourself not to swoon. It wouldn’t do you any good to get into your thoughts about the meaning behind his slip of the tongue.

Jack Hotchner was the most wonderful child you have the privilege of knowing – aside from Millie of course. He was polite and he listened with no pushback. He helped Millie with her chores (cleaning up her toys and putting her clothes in the laundry basket), he didn’t complain, and he just exuded this kindness and joy that brought an extra bit of warmth to your home.

You could see Millie becoming attached and you feared her heart would break once Jack had to go back home. You only hoped that she’d understand that although Jack’s presence isn’t currently permanent, they’d still get to see each other all the time.

Jack stayed with you for five nights, Aaron surprised you all by showing up with a pizza on Saturday evening.

The three of you had been cuddled up on the couch watching Inside Out 2 when the doorbell rang. You shuffled over to the door in your sweats and fuzzy socks to see Aaron standing there in a quarter zip and jeans. Good God, he’s never looked so good.

“Aaron!” You couldn’t hide your excitement.

“Surprise! I brought pizza, I hope cheese is okay.” He inquired.

“Cheese is perfect.” You confirmed. “Kids, dinner is here!”

“Dad!”

Jack ran to embrace his father. Millie, however, stormed off to her room. You were quick to throw Aaron an apologetic glance, before following her down the hall.

“Mills…what’s wrong honey?”

Millie replied with a grumble in her pillow and a shake of her head.

“Baby, I can’t help if you don’t tell me.”

“It’s not fair. Jack doesn’t have a mom, and I don’t have a dad. But when you and Mr. Aaron are together it feels like a normal family. How come you guys can’t just be together?” Millie cried.

“Oh, honey. It’s not that simple bug. Mr. Aaron, well he’s a busy man and I just…” You trailed off.

“Don’t you like him?”

“Mills, yeah I like him, but like I said, it’s not that simple. Even if he liked me back, that wouldn’t just make us a family, it would take some time for us to get serious and then we’d have to decide if that was the right step for us.”

“It is the right step! You guys like each other, and Jack and I get along…mommy it’s perfect! You could be Jack’s mom and Mr. Aaron could be my new dad.” Millie said matter-of-factly.

“Oh honey, is this about your dad?” You pulled Millie into a hug.

“No! He wasn’t nice to me like Mr. Aaron is. Mom I want Mr. Aaron to be my dad.” She whispered as tears stained her cheeks.

“I know honey, me too…me too.” You pressed a kiss to her head. “Baby lets go have some pizza and enjoy our time with Jack and Mr. Aaron, yeah?”

“Okay.”

That night, something shifted. Aaron and you had begun spending more time together, going to soccer practices and games together, taking the kids to the park, the movies, pottery painting places, dinner at your house, game night at his. Aaron had also exclusively been asking you to take Jack while he was away on cases – claiming Jess’ father was getting worse.

Two months passed like this, and things had started to feel very domestic. Millie was asking more and more about Jack being her brother and Aaron her father and you had to explain that even though they weren’t related, even by marriage, that friends could be considered family too.

Once again you were taking care of Jack while Aaron was out of town on a case, only this time it was a little different. Your car was in the shop, so Aaron had let you borrow his car, and today was the last day of school before winter break. The schoolyard was buzzing with anticipation of the final bell, parents were discussing their vacation plans with one another while waiting.

You has been talking to Scott and Michael when Becca approached you.

“You know, I think it’s a sick thing you’ve done, using your daughter to help you prey on a vulnerable man.” She hissed.

“Excuse me? What the hell are you talking about?” You shot back.

“Aaron. You had Millie befriend Jack and for what so you could trick Aaron into going out with you? It’s truly despicable behavior. He’s a good man and he deserves someone who is genuine.” Becca spewed.

“I don’t know where you get off, talking to me like that, but I can assure you – ”

“Becca, I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t speak to my girlfriend that way. She is the kindest most genuine person I have ever met, and every day she shows me how much she cares for and loves Jack and me. So back off, and maybe don’t speak on things you don’t know anything about.” Aaron bit as his arm snuck its way around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

“I KNEW IT!” Scott shouted.

Becca stormed off with a huff and you turned around to see Aaron wearing a shit eating grin. You couldn’t help but be overwhelmed with disbelief at the fact that Aaron was here right now, he’d stuck up for you, and he’d called you his girlfriend. Yeah, you were fairly sure your brain had short circuited.

“Girlfriend?” Your gaze lifted to meet his.

“You know, I’d been meaning to ask.” He grinned down at you. “What do you say?”

“Yes! Of course!”

Aaron closed the gap between you and captured your lips in a kiss. All the while the moms scoffed and huffed in disbelief that you truly had taken Aaron HOTTIE Hotchner off the market. And before you had a chance to pull away, Jack and Millie came bounding over just in time to catch the last bit of your kiss.

“Does this mean Mr. Aaron can finally be my dad?” Millie asked.

Aaron leaned down to Millie’s level “Mills, I would love nothing more than to be your dad, but we have to take things slow okay? Your mom and I have a lot of grown-up decisions to make before that can happen, so I need you to be patient. Can you do that for me?”

“I can do that!”

You leaned down in front of Jack, wanting to ensure he’s included in all this. “What do you think Jack? Would you be okay with me and your dad being together? It means you and Millie will be together a lot more often.”

“Will you eventually be my mom then?”

“If your dad and I choose to get married eventually, then yeah, I’d be your stepmom.” You explained.

“I think you’d be a really good mom.” Jack wrapped his arms around you.

Aaron and you may have only just made things official, but in the last five or so months, you’d both fallen for each other. Sometimes, things are just right, and all the pieces fall into place naturally. And for the first time in a long time, you couldn’t wait to see where this leads.

[submattenthusiast]

mommy

summary - in which matt calls you mommy for the first time

contents; mommy kink, mentions of boners, suggestive, no actual smut, idk what else.

matt didn’t ever think he would call anyone mommy, he doesn’t even call his own mother mommy. when he figured out you liked being called mommy he thought about giving it a shot.

chris had somehow convinced him to take the bdsm test, which landed him in this position, sat in his black gaming chair in front of his monitor, black screen illuminating his face. he was shocked by the vulgar questions the test contained.

you were scrolling on your phone on the bed behind him, not paying him any mind. he had mentioned some test chris told him to take when he walked into the room, you nodded with a hum before returning to your phone.

“some of these kinks are just outrageous’’ he stated, mouth agape. you chuckled at his shock. “do i like to wear a collar” “um no, next” he was going through these questions with a look of disgust on his face. you giggled every time he said a kink out loud, some of them actually being outrageous.

“you’re so vanilla, you’ve said no to almost every question” you snorted. he spun around in his chair eyes almost bulging out of his head, mouth once again open. “vanilla? how am i vanilla” he questioned, offended by your accusation. “those kinks weren’t even bad, and you were acting like a virgin” you explained. 

“and you’re not?” he said with a raised eyebrow. “i mean i’m not hardcore but not vanilla either lmao” you shrugged nonchalantly. “maybe you should be the one taking this quiz then’’.

he was mindlessly, reading out more questions. none of them caught your attention until you heard the word mommy come out of his mouth. you paused the tiktok you were watching, switching your attention to matt, watching his reaction closely. 

“do i have a mommy kink” he chuckled to himself, a dumb joke on the tip of his tongue. he clicked the unsure button then pressed next, the next question being about calling someone else mommy. “would i call someone else mommy” you froze in your spot as he read aloud, you bit your lip, nervous about his response. 

a wet patch began to form on your underwear, this turned you on more than you’d care to admit. you thanked god that he was facing the computer, your thighs squeezed together and you began to squirm. your mind was filled with the filthiest thoughts known to man. 

you were broken out of the trance you were in as he spoke “mommy?”. you didn’t respond, thinking he wasn’t referring to you. he repeated himself “mommy?”. “yes?” you responded, trying to play off how turned on you were.

matt was dumbfounded by your response, not expecting you to be so calm about the whole situation. he turned around in his chair slowly, brows furrowed in confusion. “are you into that or something, why are you so chill about it” he asked. “yeah i guess?” you spoke nervously, he had judged so many of the other kinks, you were worried about what he would think of you now.

he was speechless, learning that his girlfriend had a mommy kink, but more importantly, the fact that he liked it, a little too much. his cock twitched in his pants when he called you that, and he was semi-hard now. he wanted to experiment with this, desperate to know more. “you guess?”, his face was full of confusion “yeah i mean i’ve been called it before but it coming from your mouth made it clear” you admitted, staring at him intensely, waiting for a reaction.

matt got up from his chair and sat next to you on the bed. “i liked it too not gonna lie, i want to try it again” he confessed, hands resting on your thighs now. you moved to rest on his lap, thighs on both sides of his body. he looked up at you for a response, eager to hear what you were gonna say next. “yeah? then you’re gonna have to answer yes on that quiz baby” you joked. 

he rolled his eyes before responding “i’ll handle that later, but now i need your help with something else mommy” he said, grabbing your hand and placing it on the bulge in his pants.

a/n - not proofread, got the idea randomly hope you enjoyed

taglist; @mattybsgroupie @frnkocnlvr @fratboychrisera @issyh3ll @zariyam @bellassturniolo @thepubeburgler

[mypoisonedvine]

"I think we're on a first name basis by now." with tommy shelby

kinda went crazy with this one idk what happened lmao

warnings: dubcon smut (18+ only), dark!tommy, innocent/virgin reader, very rough sex, implied age gap, possessiveness, dom/sub dynamics, touch of misogyny kink, degradation, a little spanking

100 random prompts - send me a number and a character!

You only waited tables a few nights a week, just to make ends meet. You spent more time in the kitchen, actually, than you did in the part of the pub where the rowdy men would gather and drink and start trouble.

So, it was probably just your luck that whenever you were out there among them, Thomas Shelby was, too.

His eyes were always on you-- or it felt like that, sometimes. You looked at him, too: you couldn't help it, after all you'd heard. You couldn't really believe those things were true, that he was really that dangerous... he had kind eyes, you thought, and a nice smile. He looked strong, you couldn't deny that, nor could you deny the strange feelings you felt when his eyes drifted over your body while you wiped down tables and chairs. Your thighs seemed to press together each time he did that...

You almost hoped he wouldn't come tonight. As much as you had a growing interest in him, you always had this guilty feeling inside you after you got home on the nights you saw him. Maybe because, on some level, you knew what it was you felt when he looked at you.

No, he wasn't there when you arrived to the pub-- and you sighed with relief-- but your boss appeared rather suddenly when you stepped inside.

"Need you to go to the back room tonight," he told you firmly.

"Huh? Why?" you wondered.

"Just wait back there," he said simply, giving you no explanation, before walking away to deal with something else. Unsure what he could mean but not wanting to question it further, you went back through the kitchen to the back room of the pub.

It was small, and dark-- you flipped on the lamp, but it wasn't much to look at. A small couch, and a chair and desk, with various papers and letters strewn about. This was where the owner kept track of his records, managed shipments and costs-- probably where he kept track of your hours and compensation as well. You rocked back on your heels for a second before deciding to sit in the chair as you waited.

You couldn't say how long it was, probably only a few minutes, before the door opened and you stood up instinctively; you eyes widened when you saw who was stepping in with you.

"Oh, Mr. Shelby," you greeted nervously, "er-- what are you doing here?"

"I called ahead," he explained simply, shutting the door behind himself, "I told the owner that I wanted to see you."

You chewed your lip nervously. "Oh?"

"Yes," he nodded, approaching you but staying a healthy distance-- for now.

"Well... you can see me almost any night," you noticed.

"But I wanted to see you alone," he clarified.

"Does the boss mind? He must be working all the tables by himself," you wondered aloud.

"He'll be just fine," Tommy assured, "he's being compensated for his time."

Your stomach turned a bit when you realized Tommy had paid your boss to keep you back here for him. You knew then what he wanted, but you were still in denial about what was going to happen here.

He stepped up to you, almost too close, but you didn't have the bravery to take a step back.

He kissed you. It was far too sudden, far too forward-- but his hand slipped around the back of your neck and you felt entirely trapped. You did your best to kiss him back, but you weren't entirely sure how to do it well; you got the sense that things wouldn't turn out well for you if you disappointed him somehow. As he kissed you harder, his tongue slipping into your mouth, you whimpered and pushed him back by his shoulders.

It was an automatic response, but your heart pounded with nervousness as you looked up at him for his reaction: but he seemed oddly calm, not offended by your hesitance. "I-I'm sorry," you mumbled, "you just surprised me..."

"Didn't you want me to kiss you?" he asked.

And, well, that was sort of a complicated question. You had to admit, you'd imagined it before. But something about this felt wrong, even if you found yourself craving more. You'd never felt a heat between your legs quite like this one...

"You thought about more than that, didn't you?" he presumed with a raised brow, and you bit your lip and looked away.

"E-erm, well, I--" you stammered, but that was apparently answer enough for him.

He laughed a little, moving in even closer to you. "You're such a sweet girl," he cooed gently, running his hand along your waist as you shivered. "And pretty, too-- I know all the boys are lookin' at you. But you don't look at the boys, do you?"

You opened your mouth to respond, but failed completely when his fingers nimbly began to untie your apron.

"You just look at me," he continued, his voice getting a bit deeper as he finished.

"M-Mr. Shelby, I--" you started to weakly protest.

"I think we're on a first name basis by now," he said through a smirk.

"Tommy..." you mumbled shakily. "I've... I've never, erm, known a man before..."

He smiled even wider, the sharpness of his teeth seeming predatory. "Would you like to?" he asked, making your throat a little dry.

"W-well, I always thought I'd... I'd wait until I was married."

"Not all of us have that sort of patience," he explained, suddenly pulling your body flush against his and latching his lips onto your neck. You shuddered and whined, wrapping your arms around his neck since you weren't sure what else to do with them; whenever his tongue danced along your pulse, it sent a shock through your whole body and you whimpered with need.

You barely noticed he was guiding you back, not until he broke away and tossed you down onto the sofa suddenly, making you gasp.

You thought he would lay down on top of you, set himself between your legs-- but instead he roughly turned you around, shoving your face down into the old sofa at the same time that his other hand forced your hips up towards his.

You hadn't even had a chance to think-- he was already shoving your skirts up, yanking your undergarments out of the way, leaving you bare to the drafty air of the room. "T-Tommy, wait," you mumbled weakly, but he either didn't hear you or didn't care. He only growled lowly as he examined you; you both knew, then, how wet you'd become.

"Fuckin' dripping," he observed, seemingly to himself, though you heard him loud and clear as you shut your eyes tight.

He let go of your hips a second later and you heard him taking off his suspenders, but you couldn't look back at him with that other hand still tangled in your hair.

You heard him pushing his trousers down; you heard him spit into his hand and rub it over himself. You still couldn't quite process that this was all happening to you. What happened to that kind-looking man in the pub who would make your heart flutter by brushing his hand over yours? He didn't seem to have that sense of discretion now...

You gasped just from him pressing the tip up to your opening-- you couldn't even describe how you reacted when he actually shoved it in. (Yes, it took a real shove, because you were anything but prepared to take something inside you, let alone something like that.)

"O-oh, no-- oh, it hurts," you whimpered, wincing at the burning sting, holding on tighter to the cushion under you. "Tommy! Y-you're hurting me!"

"Shh, shh," he soothed sharply, groaning as he went deeper inside you, holding on tight to your waist again-- conveniently keeping your back from arching up the wrong way.

You let out a shuddering sigh and tried to relax when he slowed down. "I-is it done?" you asked nervously.

He laughed darkly. "No, sweetie, it's not even halfway in you."

He went a bit deeper again and you choked on a sob. "P-please, don't put in anymore," you begged.

"It only hurts at first," he assured, "then it feels good. It's what it's made for, love. What'd you think was supposed to go up there?"

He was joking, but it still made you feel dumb and shy, and your face heated up even more.

"I'll put the rest in now-- no cryin' this time, be good," he warned. Sliding deeper with one long stroke, until the tip of him reached so deep your stomach started to hurt, he let out a long sigh of satisfaction. "Fuck, nice and warm."

You were thankful he didn't start to move right away, because you were breathing heavy and fast like it was the greatest physical challenge of your life... it probably was, honestly. How could anything like that fit inside you? It felt like he was creating something entirely new inside you-- he certainly made you feel things you'd never felt before.

He started to move, slow and methodical at first, sighing as he savored the feeling of you. You shivered, toes curling in your shoes, trying to stay still and not tense up inside. It was hard to relax, though, in a situation like this... with a man like him.

Each thrust was a little faster than the last; he never quite set a reliable pace, just getting used to the feeling of you.

"So fuckin' tight," he praised deeply, digging his fingers harder into your skin. "The way this cunt grips me... she never wants me to leave, I bet."

He guided you to stay partially upright again, and you put your arms out under yourself to try to stay on your hands and knees. His fingers traced up your back through the dress, before holding onto your shoulder for leverage as he began to really fuck you. Hard. Still slow, but it seemed like he was only going that slow so he could put all his energy into each deep thrust.

You yelped with every slam forward, legs shaking constantly, the sound of his skin hitting yours making you feel a bit... filthy. All of this felt filthy. You felt cheap and disgusting and used. So why in God's name was it beginning to feel good?

He noticed the change right away; he couldn't have felt the difference that you did, the way the sharp pain melted into a pleasant, numbing stretch-- but he could hear it, your moans getting deeper and more confident and needier.

"See? Fuck, knew you were just a little whore," he growled in your ear as he leaned down over you, making you shut your eyes and moan lowly. "Knew you were a cockhungry little cunt like the rest of 'em. You can act innocent all you want, sweetie, but you wanted me to ruin you so badly..."

He was fucking you faster, a little more eagerly, trying to see how hard he could push you. You dropped your head limply but he put a hand on your forehead and pulled it back up, keeping you against his shoulder as he fucked you senseless.

"It's so fuckin' deep in you now, love," he growled. "Can't believe you made it this long without somebody breakin' in this cunt. And now it's mine, huh? Property of Tommy fuckin' Shelby."

You whined, losing the last bit of strength in your arms as your face fell down into the sofa's cushions again. He didn't seem to mind this time, taking a hold of your hips and staying upright as he set a brutal place of slamming thrusts into you. You cried some, but you weren't sure if it was from the pain or pleasure or shame or joy of it all.

"Nobody else s'gonna ever touch you," he promised roughly, delivering a harsh smack to your ass for no good reason except to make you jump. "Nobody else will ever get inside this pretty cunt but me."

You whined, but the way you clenched around him gave away how you really felt about the idea.

"You want me to own you, huh?" he noticed with a dark laugh. "You want to belong to me. Be my little whore, my dumb fucktoy--"

"Oh, Tommy," you whimpered, not sure if you loved or hated him talking like that. It made you feel a little awful, but you were so wet that it was running down your thighs now...

"You'll let me come and fuck you whenever I like," he decided-- or maybe he was explaining it all to you, the new rules of your life as his belonging. "You'll give me whatever I want. And you'll fuckin' thank me when I'm done."

You whined loudly.

"Yes?"

You tried to nod, but he grabbed your hair.

"Say it, whore," he demanded.

"Yes! Yes," you sobbed, "I'll be yours, Tommy."

"Good," he purred. "Hold on tighter to the cushion now, love-- I'm not gonna be gentle with ya anymore."

You hadn't realized that everything up until now was what he considered gentle... and your heart twisted with a sickly pleasurable fear of what was in store for you from now on.

[squiddy-god]

Hello! I saw the Twst post you did the other day another Anon asked for about the golden retriever bf and Savanaclaw, and I adored it! It was adorable, so I was hoping for some other Twst characters (of your choice) to put with a golden retriever bf!

Hehehe more golden retriever bf as per request, i decided to do some that feel like they would be fun and silly, i'm really happy that i've been getting so many male/masc reader requests, it feels really good 

Malleus, divus, Floyd, vil

♥︎request open♥︎

Additional edit : the way I genuinely struggled to pick a picture of vil because he's to pretty

Cw : fluff, golden retriever reader!, male/masc! Reader. Reader is yuu/mc/you but is a beastman

Malleus 

 Oh he thinks you are just the cutest

Real sunshine x gloomy pair here because he is so in love with you

It always makes him chuckle that you are so eager to please and spend time with him, practically tackling him with a wagging tail when he visits ramshackle

His tail also wags when he happy to see you 

Finds himself patting your head often, like hes always giving you head pats because your floppy golden ers are just too endearing  for the dragon to resist

Still calls you child of man but he begins to rethink the name in favor of beastie because you are his cute little beast 

Love it when he ruffles your head and and your tail wags because it makes him so so special

He gets a bit jealous when others pet your head, but hes quick to come to your air if people touch you without your consent or if they make you uncomfortable 

(whos the real gaur dog lmao)

Divus 

Obviously in this one you are a grown adult and not a student,,,more like working as a teacher's aid or janitor 

I could not resist writing for him

Hes so perfect for this prompt because you are his adorable sweet puppy

He likes to gift you outfits that match your hair,fluffy ears because style will always be priority

The man absolutely calls you darling and good boy exclusively. Your name? Haha that's funny.

He is delighted to see that your world has/is exclusively beastmen, it means that you will have a slightly easier time adjusting with stuff.

Matching accessories all day every day, he’s particle to dalmatians obviously but he keeps a little keychain on his phone with a little golden retriever on it to remind him of you

Trust your ears and hair will never have a better hair cut, truly this man is a wizard (hahaha) with those scissors 

Floyd 

Still calls you shrimpy but he alternates between shrimpy and pupppppppyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy said exactly like that 

Whos kicked puppy expression is more powerful?you or floyd? You because ironically unlike you, floyd has a biting problem 

I think he likes to play fight/wrestle 

Like out of nowhere you get tackled and now its a fight lmao

He also likes if you bite him with affection because he bites with affection too 

Teases you relentlessly about how much your tail wags when you see him but will also get so pouty if you see him and your tail isn't just going crazy 

You are his good luck charm for basketball 

Vil 

Pt two of perfect ears and tail 

He wont have you just walking around looking like some mangy hound, you are his good boy and he will have you looking your best

I think he would be really into those pet safe hair/fur dyes- here me out he really like when you two match purples, or any color you want because ofc 

Maybe he dyes little hearts/ a cute little poison apple on one of your ears (if you want) 

I also like to think that when you do really well at something he cant help but give you the headpats you rightfully deserve 

I think vil gets very stressed, usually it boils over at small things, you see a lot of the “behind the scenes” vil, even more thank someone as close to hims as rook, and you de-stress him a lot, petting your ears and being aloud to relax with cuddles is a good way to relax him.

Vil with those longer sharp acrylic nails and he gives the best head scratches (this is a call form inside the house i need this pls)

[lucysarah-c]

Mounting Spring Ch. 5

Summary: Paradis has opened its doors to the world, and the Rumbling has not yet occurred. The military board insists, "We need more Ackermans!" to avoid ruining Mikasa's life. Levi agrees. Arranged marriage, explicit consent, Omegaverse. Alpha! Levi x Omega! Y/N. Mentions of underage marriage but it doesn't happen, the reader is over 21.Age gap but they are both adults. (I would say enemys to lover but they don't even know eachother to be enemys lol.) Author note: I've had this idea for so long… Omegaverse is my guilty pleasure, and I decided to treat myself with it. From the creator of "Not in season?" I bring to you "Mounting Spring" lmao haha sorry it's just that my first omegaverse was rather a success… so I decided to do another. Masterlist to the previous parts! Ao3 link in case you prefer to read there! Chapter dedicated to @satoruandkento Who did good in an exam! Congrats sweetie!

“... Hello?” 

She opened the door of the room slowly, peeking through the crack, only to find the ransacked office completely empty. The space was faintly illuminated by the softened natural light filtered through the drizzle outside. The storm had passed, leaving only the gentle, persistent patter of rain. 

Flicking her fingers absentmindedly, she stood barefoot in the stillness. The silence was unnervingly heavy, making her skin prickle. She rubbed her arms against the chill. Turning on her heels, she retreated to the bedroom and glanced at the clock. 

“What a great wife I am... waking up at midday,” she muttered, her gaze landing on the drawers. She hesitated, debating whether she should rummage through them for a sweater or something warmer to wear. But a muffled commotion from outside the room caught her attention. 

Her curiosity piqued, she took tentative steps toward the small window above the nightstand. The angle was inconvenient; she couldn’t see much from where she stood. Carefully moving a few items off the surface, she climbed onto the nightstand, kneeling on it with her hands gripping the frame. Peeking just above the sill, up to her nose, she felt absurdly catlike—like her pet trying to sneak a bite off the dining table. 

Outside, the training grounds came into view. Nothing unusual stood out at first glance, save for a cadet surrounded by scattered equipment. She could hear voices carrying over the rain. 

“Jean-boy, are you really that useless?” Connie's voice rang out. “You’re going to drop a thunder spear one day, and that’ll be the end of you.” 

“Don’t call me that, baldy!” Jean shot back, hurriedly picking up the pieces he’d dropped. 

That seemed to strike a nerve. “I’m not bald anymore! I grew my hair out!” 

Jean straightened with his arms full, ready to retort, but froze when his golden eyes locked onto hers. 

“!!!” She squeaked in surprise, almost toppling off the nightstand as she lost her balance. 

“Jean, we’re going to be late,” Connie called, approaching his friend. He frowned when he saw Jean standing motionless. “What are you staring at?” 

“I saw a girl in Captain Levi’s room,” Jean muttered, dazed. 

Sasha, who had been trailing behind lazily, perked up with a mischievous grin. “Are you sure you’re not just hungry and hallucinating?” she teased, referencing one of Jean’s infamous complaints. 

“Tch! I’m not imagining things! I saw her,” Jean insisted, pointing toward the window. “She’s right—” But when all three turned to look, the window was empty. 

“Why would Captain Levi have a girl over?” Sasha wondered aloud, clearly entertained by the thought. 

“Isn’t he, like, really popular?” Connie asked. 

“Short men aren’t popular,” Jean retorted. 

“Maybe you think that because being tall is your only redeeming quality,” Sasha fired back, smirking. 

“Guys, what’s taking so long?” Armin approached, puzzled. 

“Captain Levi kidnapped someone!” Connie blurted out. 

The pause that followed was almost deafening as Armin processed the statement. Finally, he grimaced and said, “Alright...” He dragged the word out, rolling it on his tongue as if dissecting it. “You’re going to have to walk me through how you reached that conclusion.” 

Back in the bedroom, she muttered under her breath as she replaced the items she’d moved earlier. “He owns so little furniture, and I almost broke it,” she grumbled. Time felt distorted—passing yet standing still. Determined to accomplish something, she opened the drawers, searching for warmer clothes. 

Her fingers brushed against a thick, knitted beige cardigan. A faint smile tugged at her lips as she pulled it out. Its quality was better than anything else in the drawer, and it appeared barely worn. She slipped it on, savouring the cozy warmth and the elegant braided patterns that adorned it. 

Her hair, however, was another story. With nothing at her disposal to tame it into a neat bun or anything similar, she opted for a simple braid. Her “skincare routine” consisted of splashing water on her face and brushing her teeth. The bathroom cabinets offered little—no face cream or other luxuries. 

She wanted to look more presentable, but there wasn’t much to work with. Her dress was still a muddy disaster, and her shoes sat damp by the unlit fireplace, refusing to dry in the humid air. At least she’d managed to put her bra on underneath his clothes, even if they were slightly damp. It was... something. 

But as the minutes dragged on with no sign of him, her attention drifted to the door. The knob gleamed temptingly, as if beckoning her. Her fingers wrapped around it, testing its cool, polished surface. With a light press, she tried to turn it—and froze. 

“What?” 

She tried again, her confusion mounting when the result didn’t change. 

“Excuse me?” she huffed aloud, offended. 

Determined now, she moved to the office. Dodging the desk, she pulled back the curtains to find the main window. She grasped the knob and tried again. Nothing. 

Panic rising, she rushed back to the bedroom and tried the window she’d peeked out of earlier. It wouldn’t budge. 

“He locked me in!” 

The realization hit her like a slap. Outrage bubbled up as a thought from the previous day resurfaced—that he treated her like one of his cadets. 

“I take it back!” she declared, indignant. “I’m not a soldier under conscription... I’m kidnapped!” 

When the front door of his chambers creaked open, she jumped from her seat as if propelled by springs. Levi stepped in, quiet as ever, carrying a tray in one hand and his muddy boots in the other. His gaze was fixed downward, his movements precise, only to falter when he noticed her staring at him with wide, startled eyes—like a deer caught in the hunter’s sights. 

“You’re awake,” he said, stating the obvious as though it were groundbreaking. His attention, however, quickly shifted to the cardigan she was wearing. His brows furrowed slightly, his displeasure clear, though the reason for it escaped her. 

“I was cold,” she explained defensively. 

Levi pressed his lips together, shifted to set the tray down on his desk, and gave a curt nod. “It’s fine,” he said, though his tone didn’t match the words. 

“Where were you?” she asked, her voice sharp with accusation. 

Levi ignored it entirely. “I brought you something for lunch,” he said instead, carefully placing the tray on his desk. His sharp eyes caught the teacup she’d left behind—nearly full, now cold, and utterly wasted. 

It was like an unpractised waltz, each moving out of sync with the other. He felt a flicker of irritation at the wasted tea but refrained from clicking his tongue. She, on the other hand, felt the growing need to demand answers. 

Kicking off his socks near the unlit fireplace, he dropped his mud-splattered boots beside it. He was damp, though not as drenched as the day before. His green cloak had served its purpose well enough. As he moved purposefully through the space, she trailed after him, shadowing his every step like a duckling following its mother. 

The first time he turned sharply and collided into her, Levi froze, startled and visibly annoyed. “Where were you?” she asked again, her persistence dogged as though tethered to him by an invisible thread. 

This time, he spared her a side glance. “Working,” he said curtly, as if she were prying the words from his mouth. 

“With this weather?” 

He didn’t dignify the remark with more than a curt “Yes,” as he made his way into the bedroom. Opening the wardrobe, he pulled out another pair of uniform boots with the ease of a man who knew exactly where everything was. Unlike her, Levi moved through the space like he owned it—which, of course, he did. His demeanor lacked curiosity, replaced by a brisk efficiency. Everything was where it should be, and anything out of place drew his immediate notice. 

Could he have explained that the soldiers trained in such weather to prepare for maneuvering their ODM gear in storms? Possibly. It might even have smoothed the conversation. But Levi wasn’t inclined toward unnecessary elaboration. Instead, he moved to his drawers and opened them, his jaw tightened when he noticed the contents had been rearranged. 

“Tch.” His annoyance was audible. He worked quickly, deftly refolding the clothes and restoring his meticulous color-coded system. 

“Where are you going?” she pressed, her relentless questions earning a sharp exhale from him. 

“Working,” he said without looking up. 

“Still?” 

“Yes.” 

“Are you going to keep training?” 

“No.” 

“Then?” 

“Meetings.” 

“Now?” 

“Yes.” 

“When will you be done?” 

“Later.” 

“Later when?” 

“I don’t know. As long as it takes.” 

Each question landed like a pebble tossed at his patience. She followed him step for step, persistence wearing his resolve thin. “You locked me u—” she began accusingly, only to stop abruptly as he spun around to face her. His expression was dark, his irritation palpable as they stood in the doorway leading to the bathroom. 

She froze, lips pressing together as her wide eyes met his. His jaw tightened, and his heavy breathing was audible. 

I want to take a shit,” Levi growled, his tone flat but sharp. “Would you let me do that, or are you planning to follow me inside too?” 

Her eyes widened, and her lips parted slightly, but no sound came out. Silently, she took a step back, clearing his path. Levi shut the door firmly behind him. 

Later, during a meeting, Levi would reflect that he should’ve kept his composure. But at the time, frustration got the better of him. As unfamiliar as all this was to her, it was equally new to him. He wasn’t used to sharing the four walls he called home. Seeing them disrupted—by his standards, turned upside down—was far from easy to stomach. 

Levi wasn’t used to this. His quarters, his routines, his calm—it had always been his. Seeing it disrupted, even slightly, felt unbearable. The wasted tea, the cup left precariously on his desk where it could stain, the tea set not cleaned immediately, his clothes rearranged, stray hairs in the bathroom sink—it all gnawed at him. 

Levi wasn’t sentimental about objects, but the cardigan? That had been a gift from his previous squad for his birthday. He hadn’t yet worn it—by choice, not for lack of opportunity. It was a high-quality piece, and he’d never felt the need to use it. Now, seeing it draped on someone else without permission added to the sense of invasion. 

And the way she chased him, trailing at his heels like an overeager recruit, added insult to injury. The last time someone had followed him around like that had been Isabel, back when she was just a kid. That had been over a decade ago. 

Levi was a man of discipline, order, and solitude. This upheaval felt like his carefully ordered life had been tossed out the window on the whim of a few bored members of a military board. And he wasn’t handling it with grace. 

Levi emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, his hair slightly damp and a faint scent of soap clinging to him.  He had tidy up his appearance after heavy training, back inside the room. Only to find her sat down at one of the office’s couches. The pouting and demanding glance from her didn’t stop him. 

He ignored her gaze, brushing past her to grab the tray of food he'd brought. "Eat," he said simply, placing it on the coffee table next to her. 

She hesitated, glancing at the tray—a bowl of steaming soup, some fresh bread, and a cup of tea, the latter clearly a replacement for the one she'd neglected earlier. “Thank you,” she murmured, though the tone held a trace of reluctance. 

The sound of the bathroom door opening snapped her attention back. Levi emerged, his damp bangs brushing his forehead, his expression as unreadable as ever. His eyes flicked briefly to the tray, then to her. Giving her quick flickering checking looks as he sort through a stack of papers. 

“Eat while its warm,” he insisted. 

“I’m waiting,” she replied, though her tone carried an edge. 

Levi raised an eyebrow, then crossed the room to retrieve his cloak. He pulled it on with practiced efficiency, securing the straps across his chest. “I’ve lunch with the squad,” he said shortly, his tone brooking no argument. 

“Where are you going now?” she asked, her voice rising just slightly. 

Levi paused at the door, his hand on the knob. He turned his head just enough to glance at her over his shoulder. “I told you. Meetings.” 

His grip on the door tightened for a moment before he sighed, turning fully to face her. “I don’t know how long it’ll take. But I’ll be back. Don’t go anywhere.” 

“It’s not like I can leave this place,” she spat, her frustration spilling out. 

For the first time, a flicker of amusement crossed Levi’s face, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “You’re not a prisoner. You’re just confined for now.” 

He searched for patience within himself. “I don’t know,” he muttered, ready to leave, “Take a nap.” 

Before she could fire back, the door closed behind him with a decisive click. Was he always like this? Was he angry, or was this just his way? She hated this imbalance of power. 

“If his idea of marriage is locking me in and giving me orders, this is going to be a long arrangement,” she muttered aloud to the empty room. She had heard of Alphas who kept their Omegas close, but this felt excessive, even extreme. 

Levi arrived at his meeting, letting his weight fall into the chair with a sigh. He couldn’t help but reflect on the situation. His mind drifted away from the discussion at hand. ‘I’m not angry, I’m just busy’, he told himself. But then, his thoughts returned to the cold tea left behind, unused. ‘Maybe I’m a bit angry.’ 

Dragging his feet down the hallway, Levi entered his chambers quietly, the door creaking softly as he stepped inside. The room was warmly lit by a few candles. “Y/N, I brought you dinner,” he announced, his voice flat as he moved toward the bedroom. The lights were dim, but bright enough to make him think it had been left on for a while. 

She was asleep, curled beneath the covers, her arms sprawled outward, fingers almost touching the floor. The sight of her like that—a far cry from the tense, demanding energy she had shown earlier. 

The glint of something caught his attention, flickering in the night. Levi bent down to pick it up and examined it closely. The ring had likely fallen off her finger and onto the ground. "Tch," he muttered, irritation bubbling up—not because she wasn’t wearing it, but because he had one job to do. 

He didn’t know her well enough yet, and honestly, matching her ring size would have felt like a miracle, but still—he couldn’t help but think it should have gone a little smoother. He placed the ring safely on the nightstand, then checked the clock. 

Almost midnight. Exhausted, Levi ran a hand through his hair, frowning as a heavy sigh escaped him. He had intended to finish quickly, but this was exactly why he hadn’t married by choice. Do I look like someone who has time to be a present husband? 

With the windows shut, the air in the room felt thick and stale. Each breath only reminded him why he had kept her confined. He could breathe through it, but barely. His eyes, whether intentionally or not, had drifted to her parted legs, one hanging out from under the blankets. The weather had improved, and she’d taken off her sweatpants. 

His throat tightened, saliva thickening as his senses kicked in. The lingering scent was lighter than yesterday, but still potent, and her body’s confusion over the heat slowly dissipated. Meanwhile, his body felt like Christmas had come early. Recalling his thought the day before the wedding—when had been the last time he’d gotten laid? Especially with an omega? 

His instincts didn’t care about the specifics, though. They just kept track, happy that the wait was finally over. 

“The last thing I need right now... is getting into a rut,” he muttered under his breath as he stepped out of the room. The quiet of the building settled in now that everyone was asleep. He opened the window, letting the cold spring night air flow in. 

From one of his desk drawers, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one up. It would cloud the scent and, hopefully, give him some mental peace. His instincts couldn’t distinguish between the smell of a passing heat and the prospect of an upcoming one. All day, he’d been making sure no hormonal alpha had caught wind of it and gotten into a rut, but now, he feared he might be the one who needed to worry. 

His eyes flicked toward the food tray. The bowl of soup remained mostly untouched, only a few bites taken from each item, the bread barely nibbled. She had eaten very little, if anything. Something about that unsettled him, as if the quiet act of leaving the meal half-finished was an unconscious rejection of the care he had tried to offer.  

The candles—those half-melted stubs—still flickered weakly, forgotten in the dim light. She had left them burning, and it struck him as careless. It was a small thing, but it stood out in his mind. He moved over to extinguish the flames, quietly placing everything back into order, the habit of tidying his surroundings kicking in without thought. When the candles were out, the only light in the room came from the faint glow of his cigarette. 

“Tch.” He clicked his tongue again, moving to his desk to find that the papers had been shuffled, his pencils moved. Perhaps his standards were too strict after years of having everything in its place. 

But then, he saw it. 

A small, simple drawing—done with the precision of someone who knew what they were doing. A bird’s nest, complete with baby swallows peeking out. His gaze narrowed as he studied it, his attention caught by the perspective. 

Instinctively, his eyes flicked to the window behind his desk. He glanced to the right, and there it was—between the roof and a column, the exact same nest. A small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. Not bad. Not that he had any right to judge—his own art skills were nonexistent. 

He turned the paper over. 

She had written, “One swallow does not a summer make.” 

Levi scoffed. She had probably gotten it from some old book he didn’t know about, or at least that’s how it seemed by the way it was phased. He stubbed out his cigarette and made a silent promise to try harder the next day. 

“You’re up early,” Levi remarked, his voice tinged with surprise as she stepped out of the bedroom. He was still getting ready for work, adjusting his cravat in front of the small mirror by his desk. 

“I’m tired of lying in bed,” she mumbled, her words nearly as tangled as her hair. “I slept all day yesterday.” 

Levi sighed and stepped closer, placing his hands on her shoulders to steer her toward the couch. “Out of the way,” he muttered, guiding her out of the narrow corridor that connected the rooms. He needed the space to move around without tripping over her. 

She sat obediently, her eyes following him with unwavering attention as he continued preparing for the day. The morning light was unusually bright, the weather having improved dramatically. The birds were chirping, and the sun had already begun to heat the room. 

“Look at the bright side,” Levi said, almost forcing himself to be more conversational than the previous day. “Your stuff might arrive soon.” 

“Can I leave the room?” she asked tentatively, her tone almost hopeful. 

Before she could even finish, he turned sharply, his expression serious. “No.” 

The reply was firm, final. There was no room for debate. 

Instead of her continuing to bombard him with questions like an interrogation, Levi moved quickly, pacing around and delivering a monologue of his own. 

“Listen,” he began, his voice steady but low, “This isn’t the kind of place where you wander around on your own. Not in your state. You’re not a soldier, and you don’t know the layout. You get lost or end up somewhere you shouldn’t, and it’s on me.” 

He paused to finish tightening his cravat before throwing her a sharp glance over his shoulder. “When it’s safe, I’ll let you out. Understood?” 

She simply nodded, not saying anything. 

“I brought you breakfast. Eat.” His tone softened slightly as he moved away from the bathroom and over to a cabinet in his office. “Where the hell did I put it?” he muttered to himself, not expecting an answer. 

Levi crouched by one of the lower cabinets, rifling through its contents with the efficiency of someone accustomed to order but occasionally betrayed by his own lack of use for certain items. “Aha,” he murmured, pulling out a small glass jar of raspberry jam. “Farmers nearby gave it to me.” 

He set the jar down on the tray alongside the other food he’d prepared. It was clearly homemade, the seal still intact. 

Ready to leave, Levi glanced at her again. “I’ll try to come back earlier today.” 

Levi’s sharp grey eyes settled on the untouched tray sitting on his desk. The stack of paperwork tucked under his arm wavered slightly as his fingers drummed against the wood in slow, deliberate taps. His jaw tightened, irritation brewing beneath his otherwise stoic demeanor. 

Turning toward her, he fixed her with a pointed gaze—like a parent catching a child avoiding their vegetables. She sat curled up on the couch, avoiding his eyes. 

“You barely touched anything I left you,” he said, his tone edged with annoyance. His mind raced. ‘Is she doing this on purpose? Some sort of protest?’ 

Her gaze flicked away, searching the room as if trying to escape his frustration. Levi, however, wasn’t the type to let things slide. He raised his hand, expecting—no, demanding—an answer. 

“So?” he asked, his tone sharp. 

“…I’m not used to eating barley bread,” she murmured, her voice small and hesitant. The dark, dense bread hadn’t been to her taste, especially compared to the soft, fluffy buns she was used to. Her fingers fidgeted with the loose ring as she added, “And plain black tea gives me heartburn.” 

“…I usually have it with milk,” she finished, almost as if confessing a secret. 

Levi released a weary sigh, one that seemed to carry the weight of a man pushed to his limits. ‘This is so fucking hard.’ 

“You could’ve at least tried the damn jam,” he muttered, his frustration softening into something closer to resignation. 

Her lips pressed into a pout, the kind of silence settling between them that Levi had learned to dislike. Finally, she spoke, her voice barely audible. 

“…I couldn’t open it.” 

The honesty of her admission, paired with the image of her struggling to twist the stubborn lid, tugged a rare chuckle from him. Grabbing the jar, which was still vacuum-sealed, Levi effortlessly twisted it open with a single motion. 

“Here,” he said, handing it back to her. 

But instead of gratitude, she frowned up at him, her pride clearly bruised. Her tone was sharp as she retorted, “I loosened it.” 

The corner of Levi’s mouth twitched into a smirk. “Sure,” he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. 

Two thoughts flickered through his mind: Cute, and Grocery shopping—noted.

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Levi's inner alpha thinking they are going to get laid ->

[d3arapril]

Hi! So I kinda have this req, can you please make a Paige x reader where the reader accidentally invites Paige to her live? And can the reader be also like from a rival team? Something like what happened between Paige and Jada, I was giggling and kicking my feet the whole time lmao 😂

I hope you give this one a try! Thank you!! 🫶🏻

i did this from paige's pov bc i thought it'd be fun lol. enjoy :)

paige was bored. she'd mindlessly scrolled through twitter and tiktok more times than she could count and had somehow become tired of the non-stop greys anatomy re-runs playing on her laptop.

with a sigh, she tapped the instagram icon once again, eyes glazing over as she scrolled through her feed, liking the odd photo and half-heartedly commenting on an old high school friend's latest post. swiping up, she closed the app and tapped her fingers against the screen. maybe a bath could pass the time, she thought. just as she was about to summon the willpower to peel herself off the bed, a notification popped up at the top of her screen.

@.username invited you to join their live!

that piqued her interest. paige’s brows knitted together as she stared at the notification, lips pursed in confusion. why would you invite her to your live? you weren't enemies, sure, but you weren't the best of friends, either. the press spun stories of the harsh rivalry between the two of you, two of the top picks for LA sparks. paige knew where she stood with you, though. a little friendly competition, so what? she'd said to you when she last saw you at the all stars game.

why not? she thought, tapping the notification and accepting the invitation. she adjusted herself, tucking a pillow behind her back as the screen switched to your live feed. the split screen revealed your surprised expression, eyes wide, lips parting as you caught sight of her.

"guys i- oh!" you fumble, open palm slapping against your forehead. “i didn’t mean to invite you, paige!”

“nah, it’s cool,” she replied, the corners of her mouth lifting into a smirk. “you good?”

you nodded quickly, a nervous laugh slipping out. “uh, yeah, yeah. sorry, man. just—unexpected.” you looked off-camera, eyes flitting over the comments that were pouring in, views increasing by the second. paige’s eyes followed your gaze, reading them aloud with a grin. 

"paige is a spark.... 'bout time.... fight on camera for the top spot... guys if we fight just know i'm winnin'."

you frown directly at the camera and she can't help but laugh in your face, knowingly teasing. "please respect the host, bueckers."

the comments went wild.

are they FLIRTING? is this enemies to lovers....

I NEED you guys to play together!!!

if you fight can i watch ❤️

paige’s eyes flitted across the screen, catching the more suggestive comments that you appeared to have missed. she felt the heat creep up her cheeks and resisted the urge to rub the back of her neck. 

play it cool. 

but she couldn’t deny the excitement that buzzed under her skin. sure, maybe she had a tiny crush—so what?