#making them teens as a not-so-little challenge

[orellazalonia]

Hey!! I would like to request a Bucky Barnes x reader fic where their daughter shows up from the future. Bucky and Reader aren’t dating or really even know each other that well yet (maybe they share mutual friends on the team or are friends but just dancing around each other a bit??), so this could be a surprise to them. You could have it that she keeps saying she can’t share information about the future but then accidentally drops information like they have a pet cat named alpine and she has three siblings (Bucky deserves a big loving family) without even totally realizing it. Idk if this is even a great idea, but I like your writing and thought this could be a fun request. Thank you for sharing your writings with us!! <3

Hello there, dear! This was such a cute request, thank you for it! I do admit it was a challenge figuring out how to seamlessly combine each element. So, I hope I did well and that you enjoy! Happy reading!!! ♡

Out of Time, Into Our Lives

Summary: A teen girl suddenly appears at the Avengers compound claiming to be from the future. While she tries to avoid revealing too much, she accidentally and subtly drops hints about her life, her siblings, and the deep bond she shares with you and Bucky Barnes both. (Bucky Barnes x reader)

Word Count: 2.7k+

Main Masterlist | Part 2

It started like any other morning at the Avengers compound. Quiet, a little too quiet. You were nursing your first real cup of coffee, leaning against the counter in the common room kitchen while chatting lazily with Wanda about her latest attempt at baking banana bread.

Bucky entered halfway through your sentence, nodding politely at you before making a beeline for the fridge. You and he had been doing this little dance for a while now. Friendly, respectful, always a step or two away from crossing into something more. You liked his dry humor, the way his voice softened when he asked how your day was. But neither of you had made a move. Not yet.

Just as you took a sip, FRIDAY’s calm, robotic voice interrupted:

“Alert. Temporal breach detected. Unauthorized presence in the compound.”

You and Bucky both straightened at the same time.

“Temporal breach?” He muttered, already halfway to the hall. You followed.

It wasn’t often something genuinely strange happened anymore, but what you found in the hallway outside one of the research wings made your breath catch in your throat.

A girl stood there, around seventeen. Messy hair pulled into a loose braid. Her clothes didn’t look particularly futuristic, but there was something… off. Like she didn’t belong. She wasn’t panicking, wasn’t aggressive. She was just staring at a portrait of the original Avengers lining the corridor wall, head tilted slightly.

When she noticed you, her eyes widened but it wasn’t fear that passed over her face. It was recognition.

Her gaze locked onto Bucky first. Then shifted to you. And something in her face softened.

“Oh,” She breathed. “It’s earlier than I thought.”

You frowned. “Do we know you?”

“I’m… not supposed to say anything,” She said quickly, straightening. “I mean, I can’t. It would mess with… everything. I wasn’t even supposed to be here. I didn’t mean to come through. The rift just kind of… swallowed me.”

“Rift?” Bucky echoed, stepping closer.

The girl put her hands up, showing no threat. “I know how this sounds. But I swear, I’m not dangerous. I’m not here to hurt anyone. I just need help getting back.”

You gave her a once-over; she didn’t seem injured, but she looked like she hadn’t slept in a while. Underneath the brave exterior, she seemed a little lost.

“Okay,” You said gently. “We believe you. Let’s just take this slow. What’s your name?”

She hesitated. “I can’t tell you that.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow.

“I’m serious,” She insisted. “If I tell you who I am, it could screw up the timeline. I mean, it already is screwed up if I’m standing here. But I really can’t afford to make it worse.”

Wanda appeared in the doorway, her expression unreadable. “She’s not lying,” She said quietly. “She’s scared. But not of us.”

The girl nodded quickly. “Thank you. I’m just… trying to wait it out. The breach will reverse itself. Probably. Eventually.”

You crossed your arms. “So what are we supposed to call you?”

“Uh. I don’t know. You can give me a fake name?” She offered with a shrug. “That feels safer.”

There was a long pause, awkward. You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but she beat you to it:

“Is Alpine here?”

You blinked. “Alpine?”

Bucky looked up sharply. “How do you know about Alpine?”

The girl’s face went pale. “I mean. I—uh—I read about her? In the files. Maybe. Probably.”

Bucky’s frown deepened.

She let out a tiny groan and rubbed her face. “I told myself not to say anything specific. Ugh. Okay. Look. I’m just going to sit in a corner, be very quiet, and not ruin anything else, okay?”

You sat beside her, slowly, noting how carefully she avoided looking at Bucky too long. Not out of fear, but something heavier.

She tugged her sleeves down over her hands. “This was easier when you were already married.” The words slipped out of her mouth like a quiet sigh, too casual for how much they weighed.

You and Bucky both stiffened.

He stared at her. You weren’t sure he was even breathing. “What did you just say?”

She blinked, realizing. “Oh. I mean, I didn’t mean it like that. I shouldn’t have said anything. Please ignore that.”

You frowned. “Wait… what do you mean, already married?”

“I’m not answering that.” Her voice sharpened slightly now, trying to backtrack. “Sorry. I really can’t say anything else. Like, actually can’t. This isn’t just me being dramatic, it's literally against every single future protocol. I’ve already said too much.”

Bucky stepped forward slowly, his tone low but steady. “You said you came through a rift. Do you know how that happened?”

She looked grateful for the change in subject, nodding. “I was working with someone back there, on uh, stabilizing temporal energy. I wasn’t supposed to be anywhere near the live field, but things got weird. And loud. And then everything just… cracked.”

“Cracked?” You asked.

“Yeah.” She hugged her arms around herself. “Like a window splintering. I fell through. And now I’m here. Too early. Way too early.”

You tilted your head. “Too early for what?”

She looked at you, then at Bucky, and something softened in her expression. Like she knew the two of you better than you knew yourselves. Like there was something unspoken that pained her to keep secret.

But she didn’t answer. Instead, she whispered, “I shouldn’t even be talking to you yet.”

FRIDAY’s voice interrupted gently. “Should I notify Director Fury?”

“No,” Bucky said sharply. Too quickly. Then he glanced at you. “…Not yet.”

The girl looked surprised. “You’re not sending me to a cell?”

You offered a faint smile. “We’re not monsters.”

“And you’re not dangerous,” Bucky added, quieter now. “At least not yet.”

She snorted. “Wow. Thanks, I guess.”

Wanda stepped closer, watching her closely. “You’re scared,” She murmured. “But you’re also… relieved. Why?”

The girl didn’t answer right away. She just looked back at the wall, where a photo of the original team hung in a dusty frame. After a long silence, she whispered, “Because I missed this. Seeing it again. Seeing you all… before everything changes.”

Her voice cracked on that last word. You saw it, just barely: the tension in her jaw, the sheen in her eyes she was trying to blink away.

“I can’t stay long,” She said, turning her face away like she didn’t want either of you to see the emotion creeping in. “So just… let me be here until the breach resets. Then I’ll be gone, and this’ll be nothing more than a strange footnote in someone’s mission report.”

You looked over at Bucky. His brow was furrowed, mouth slightly open like he had a thousand questions on the tip of his tongue but no idea how to ask any of them.

She noticed, smiled a little, sadly. “You always look like that when you’re overwhelmed.”

His lips parted, but she cut in quickly, raising a hand. “Nope. Not answering anything. I’m very good at not answering.”

A long silence settled between the three of you.

Then she yawned. A real one. Unfiltered. She rubbed her eyes like a kid, her exhaustion finally catching up.

“Can I… take a nap somewhere not surrounded by broken lab equipment?”

You smiled despite yourself. “Yeah. We’ll figure something out.”

Bucky’s voice was low. “You hungry?”

She paused, like she hadn’t considered that. “Kinda. Do you still make those-“ She caught herself. Froze. “…Never mind.”

But the warmth in her eyes didn’t fade. She didn’t say it. But it was already there, written in every look she gave the two of you:

She knew you. And she loved you both.

Even if she couldn’t say it.

-

The girl slept for twelve hours straight. You'd offered her the spare room near the east wing, technically meant for visiting guests, but it had soft blankets and a window view, which she seemed to appreciate.

You sat outside her door for most of the first hour, just in case she tried to run or vanished the way she arrived. But she didn’t.

Bucky checked in at least three times too, though he pretended he was just “walking by.”

When she finally emerged the next morning, hair sticking out in wild directions and wearing one of your old sweatshirts you’d left folded on the chair, she looked younger. More like a kid playing dress-up than a displaced anomaly from the future.

She padded into the kitchen barefoot and blinked at you, rubbing her eyes. “You’re making eggs.”

“Good morning to you too,” You said with a grin. “Hungry?”

“Starving.” She yawned and flopped down at the counter like she’d done it a hundred times.

Bucky entered a moment later, nodding to you both. “Morning.”

She perked up when she saw him, then quickly forced her face back into something neutral, like she’d caught herself.

You passed her a plate. “Toast, scrambled eggs, hash browns.”

She dug in immediately. “Thank you. Food here’s just as good as I remember- I mean, as I hoped it’d be.”

You bit back a smile. “Smooth.”

She glanced at Bucky nervously, but he didn’t press. He just poured himself coffee and sat across from her, watching her with quiet curiosity.

“So,” you said lightly, “What should we call you?”

She hesitated, then shrugged. “Call me…” She looked around the room, clearly stalling. “Jules?”

You tilted your head. “Is that your real name?”

“Nope.” She smiled a little too innocently. “Which makes it perfect.”

Bucky took a sip of coffee, eyes never leaving her. “Alright, Jules. Mind if we ask a few things?”

“As long as it’s not timeline-altering, catastrophic, or classified by future standards, maybe.”

You exchanged a glance with Bucky. “Okay,” You said slowly. “How old are you?”

“Seventeen,” She answered, mid-bite. “Chronologically. Time-wise… eh. Don’t ask.”

Bucky leaned forward slightly. “Do you have a family? In your… original timeline?”

Her chewing slowed just a little. Her expression flickered. Then she nodded. “Yeah. I do.”

Silence fell again. After a moment, she added, “It’s… a big family. Messy. Loud. Someone’s always yelling, someone’s always drawing on the walls, and someone’s always pretending they didn’t start it.”

You smiled softly. “Siblings?”

She paused, eyes widening like she just realized what she said. “I didn’t—wait. That wasn’t—I mean—”

Bucky raised a brow. “You have siblings?”

She groaned and put her face in her hands. “Dang it.”

“How many?” You asked, voice careful.

She peeked through her fingers. “Three.” Then flopped back dramatically in her seat. “Ugh. I knew I’d slip up. You two are too nice. It’s disarming.”

Bucky chuckled quietly. “You don’t have to tell us anything else.”

“No, it’s fine,” she mumbled. “At this rate I’ll blurt out the entire family tree before lunch.”

“Do you like them?” You asked, curious.

A slow smile spread across her face. “Yeah. I love them. They're chaos. But the kind you miss when it's quiet.”

Bucky studied her like she was a riddle. “Are they older than you?”

She looked down at her plate. “Some. Some younger.”

And that was it. She shut down after that, turning her attention fully back to her breakfast. You let her. The moment felt like something private, like she’d tugged back a curtain for just a second and now needed it closed again.

But later, when she wandered into the rec room to find Alpine curled in a sunbeam, she sank to the floor and whispered something to the cat that made Bucky freeze in the doorway.

You didn’t catch the words. But you caught the tone: nostalgic, fond, like she’d said it a thousand times before.

And when Alpine, notoriously selective, climbed into her lap without hesitation, she just stroked her fur like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like she belonged.

-

The days that followed were strangely easy.

She, Jules, settled in like a half-remembered song. Not quite a stranger, not quite someone you knew, but comfortable. Familiar. You found her sitting on the kitchen counter in the mornings, legs swinging as she ate cereal straight from the box. You caught her once talking softly to FRIDAY, as if the AI were an old friend she’d grown up with.

Bucky never said much. But he was there. Quietly hovering, checking if she was eating enough, if she was sleeping okay. They started watching movies in the common room, not speaking much, but it was something. The space between them had stopped feeling like distance. It was anticipation now. Recognition.

And then there was the night Bucky found her on the roof.

You followed the scent of cold air and firewood up the metal stairs and found them sitting side by side, backs against the railing, stars overhead. Jules was hugging her knees, wearing one of Bucky’s jackets now. It was too big for her, sleeves past her fingertips. But she looked warm. Safe.

You stayed back, watching quietly from the door. Listening.

“I didn’t think I’d meet you like this,” She admitted softly. “This early. I wasn’t ready.”

Bucky didn’t respond right away. Just nodded once, slow and heavy.

“You remind me of her,” She glanced up at the stars. “Not just the way you look at people, but the way you don’t. The way you… hold back. Like you’re always waiting for someone to decide you’re worth staying for.”

Bucky’s jaw tensed. “And did they?”

She looked at him. “Mmm, maybe.”

He turned toward her. “Did I?”

There was a heartbeat’s pause before she whispered, “You never left.”

Then she flinched, realizing again what she’d said. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

But Bucky didn’t press. He didn’t need to.

The silence that followed was full of things neither of them could say.

You all started tiptoeing around the inevitable after that. Jules hadn’t poofed back yet, but every hour felt borrowed. She stopped sleeping as much. Kept checking corners for changes in the air. Listening for that hum she said she’d felt right before the breach opened.

On the fourth day, it happened.

You were in the kitchen, scrambling eggs again, same as the first day. She was mid-laugh, telling you something vague and harmless about a prank her “friend’s little brother” pulled once involving holograms and Steve’s shield. You didn’t even notice the shimmer at first.

Then Bucky’s face changed.

You turned and saw it. A distortion in the center of the room. Like heat rising off pavement, but colder. The air around it began to swirl. And her smile fell away.

“It’s happening,” She said quietly. Not surprised. Just… resigned.

“No.” You stepped forward. “Wait! We didn’t get to-“

“It’s okay,” She said, standing quickly. “It’s time. I knew I couldn’t stay long.”

Bucky took a step forward, fists clenched at his sides. “You said it would reset eventually. You didn’t say it would be this fast.”

She smiled at him, eyes glassy. “You never like goodbyes.”

You were about to speak, to say something, anything, but the light started pulling at her edges. Dust and static flickering around her limbs.

She looked at you both, eyes shining now.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to cause trouble. I just… I wanted to see you. Before everything.”

“Before what?” You asked, your voice trembling. “What changes?”

But she only gave a tiny, knowing smile. And this time, she didn’t say anything else.

She just looked at Bucky one last time and softly said, “Don’t wait too long.”

And then she was gone. No flash, no thunder, just a breath pulled from the room. One second she was there. The next, empty air.

You stood frozen in place.

The bowl she’d left still sat on the table, cereal soggy in milk. Her mug still half full of cocoa. One of Alpine’s toys, she’d apparently been hoarding them in her pockets, sat on the floor near the couch, a little mouse with a frayed string tail.

Bucky picked it up slowly, didn’t say a word. You looked over at him and could see it in his face now, what she saw in him. The cracks. The strength beneath them.

Later that night, you and Bucky hadn’t said much since she vanished. There wasn’t much that needed saying. But the silence wasn’t empty anymore. It was full of what came next. Neither of you quite knew what the future held. But now, you both knew who it held. And someday sooner, maybe, than either of you thought, you’d meet her again; for the first time.

[no-name-was-free]

Bat-verbal

All the Batkids go bat-verbal when they are upset, injured or had a bad day. Only expressing themselves at grunt, glare and gesture. All their teams learn to understand them, but they all think that tha batfolk are hella strange.

The Teen Titans learned to understand Dick when he was still Robin, but when Batgirl came into the scene things began to get strange. After a fight the two of them comunicate for a whole week without a single word and that was almost scary.

Red Hood usually is very theatrical, but when he shut down things are going bad, he would kill in a second if that means he could return home, make himself some tea, a muffin and read. Roy and Kory already learned the bat-language with Dick and Bizzaro learned It surprisingly fast, but Artemis never learned and even now needs a translator.

Tim is surrounded by very chatty people and sometimes the yj didn't even notice that he shut down. The core member still so fluent in the bat-language that they don't register how Tim's Is grunting and glaring instead of actually talking. Some times they answer in that strange language too.

Steph almost never goes bat-verbal and when she does she freake out even the bat family. In every team she found herself she's more often the translator than the one Bat-talking. She tend to go Bat-verbal when she fail an exam and it's the only way the family would know (that dindn't happens too often

Cass is tecnically new with the whole talking things, so It happen often that she still go bat-verbal or directly non-verbal. People are quite used to that and the biggest challenge is see how she would comunicate today. She had learned the bat-language faster than any other language finding It more instinctive.

Damian had passed not even six month in the Manor to start going bat-verbal. He does It so often than Alfred the Cat learned to seat on his laps every time before he try to kill someone. The new member of the Teen Titans had to learn fast how ro decipher him, because when he goes bat-verbal the next stage is usually violence.

Duke was a shock for the We are Robin team. He started working with Batman and then e came back grunting and there Is no way to make him talk. No one of them understand the bat-language and no one has the minimal idea of what is happening. The next time he brought the little manual of bat-language, written by himself at three a.m.

[the-chosen-fanfiction]

Headcanons | Jesus being overprotective over you would include… | Platonic

Requested by Saily

You are a soft-spoken woman from Nazareth who always tried to stick to the background. In spite of this, you’ve always been a close friend of Jesus.

Of course, it is well known that Jesus adores all of His friends. He is willing to lay down His life for them, after all.

However, all throughout His childhood, you have been a constant factor and because of this, the Messiah is a little more protective over you than over the others, mainly because you cannot really defend yourself in any way. You had an overprotective mother who got rid of all challenges for you in life, making it so that you never really learnt how to take risks.

In your teens, Jesus always made sure that He paid attention to you and involve you in social events. It was because of Him that you had a few friends in the village.

During adulthood, you are still the type of person to rather stick to herself, and you prefer to be as invisible as possible.

Whereas the other women of the group can be quite lippy when they need to be and stand their ground quite well, you tend to shrink and cry at every lingering threat. Not that this is a bad thing on your part, but because you so bravely want to follow Jesus in spite of the dangers that come with it, Jesus cannot help but feel the need to keep an extra close eye on you.

Whenever the crowds get a little restless, His gaze will automatically seek you out first before he checks on the others.

Jesus will assign one of the stronger males to be your chaperone whenever you are sent out on a task, just so people won’t bother you.

Jesus also always positions His tent close to yours because He knows that you crave the feeling of safety in the wilderness. You had never slept in a tent before until you began following Him, so travelling in general is very new to you.

The others notice this and will mention it to you.

“How come that Jesus is always extra cautious when it comes to you?”

You just shrug and blush a bit, not being a woman of many words. Besides, you don’t like talking about yourself.

One evening, Ramah leans towards you and asks what it was like to grow up with Jesus. Matthew and Thaddeus also perk up, and because you don’t find any of them intimidating compared to Peter or Big James or Zee for example, you begin speaking about it softly.

Eventually though, people begin gathering around when they realise that you are speaking out loud about your adventures with Jesus when you were children. You don’t notice that others are listening in until Jesus sits down next to you.

There is slight alarm in your eyes when you realise that almost everyone is listening to you now, but the Messiah gives you a reassuring smile and puts a kind hand on your shoulder.

For a second, it is just the way it used to be when you were young and Jesus would bring you on a field trip with friends. 

“It’s fine, (Y/n). People really want to hear the rest. I’ll add onto the stories where I can.” 

You give Him a small smile and nod, needing a moment to regain your courage before continuing to tell them about your childhood alongside the Messiah. 

Everyone listens with a smile on their face, laughing occasionally at funny anecdotes. Slowly but surely, you begin to feel more confident, which is the start of your journey to becoming more forward with voicing your hopes and dreams around others. 

Jesus listens as well, humming in acknowledgement and occasionally adding a funny quip or two.

[be-compromised]

WIP Challenge 2025 Masterlist

Congratulations to everyone who took part in the WIP Challenge! Whether you managed to finish a work-in-progress or not, hopefully this challenge helped you to untangle a problem, dedicate some time, or in some way make progress. The thread on the comm discord has been fun to follow and I know I've picked up some tips and tricks to take away.

Especial congrats to our challenge winners below. You got it done <3

(If any usernames or details are correct, or if I've missed anyone, please comment to this dreamwidth post or @ me on tumblr to let me know.)

A Tale as Old as Time by @cassiesinsanity Rating/Warnings: PG13; no warnings apply Summary: Just a little change / Small to say the least / Both a little scared / Neither one prepared / Beauty and the Beast (Clint/Natasha)

any way the wind blows by rowaelinluvr Rating/Warnings: pg-13; implied suicide attempt/depression Summary: He will look back again. It’s not a guess, nor is it a question. Natasha knows he will look back again. Just like he’s done for the past hundreds and hundreds of times. - it's an old song. it's an old tale. (Clint/Natasha)

Here We Go Again by @cassiesinsanity Rating/Warnings: E. Very much E for Explicit. I mean, look, it's mostly shameless smut! No warnings. Except, you know, the sex.  Summary: They barely made it out of the swanky party. Now they were trapped in one of the upstairs bedrooms while Benitti's men cased the mansion looking for them and the microchip they'd taken from his vault. But Bucky and Natasha have a solid plan for getting out of there and an even better plan on what to do once they escape. (Bucky/Natasha)

'Love is Love is Love is Love is Love' Cross Stitch by @heroofshield Rating/Warnings: G, no warnings

my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand by @mid-sized-city-hopes Rating/Warnings: teen & up; no warnings apply Summary: She doesn’t come back wrong. She comes back cold, some creeping side effect the Red Skull had neglected to mention, a piece of the planet she carries with her even as she reappears on the platform in place of Steve, takes off the helmet, and smiles at her friends. or: the first time he touches her after vormir strikes her alight.

Rewrite the Stars by Ultra Rating/Warnings: PG-13/T; No warnings apply Summary: Clint and Natasha meet in the circus. They're both looking for something, they just don't know right away that the something is each other. (Clint/Natasha)

Running in the Shadows by @paperairplanesopenwindows Rating/Warnings: Mature (may later become Explicit); currently no warnings apply (may change in future) Summary: You’re always running from something, Laura. aka if crime wasn't so easy, Laura wouldn't do it so often. aka the much long awaited Criminal AU. (Clint/Natasha/Laura)

Supremacy by Chaed & Spacelaska Rating/Warnings: M; Infidelity, Questionable Political Stances, Violence Summary: Tony Stark turns his back on SHIELD during the events of Iron Man 2, no longer interested in playing by anyone’s rules but his own. How far can he push it? And how far will anyone go to stop the rise of Superior Iron Man? (Tony/Pepper, Clint/Natasha, Clint/Laura)

[pigeonplaysgod]

a French country home inspired by Caryn and Connie's budget build challenge! 2br3ba, each room is a different randomly generated budget, rolled between 1k and 10k!

Budgets for every room listed under the cut, and it's on the gallery under rougarousmooch!

Exterior - originally 3559, but i had to throw that out the window because i am Not An Experienced Builder and had to edit the layout a few times to make it functional 😅

Entry/Living - 8117

Kitchen - 9423

Craft Room - 3267

Downstairs Bath - 8895

Sunroom - 6591

Stairwell/Landing - 6415

Upstairs Bath - 3125

Master Bed - 7548

EnSuite Bath - 5765

Bedroom #2 - 7548

Backyard - 5170

if the math doesn't add up somewhere, i'm gonna put in a disclaimer that i Can't Do Math

[floralovebot]

i am once again thinking about the missed opportunities of a garth and jackson mentor/mentee brother in arms relationship

[livinghalfway]

Brothers, Aisle Six

Danny was having a terrible day, or more like a terrible week. His parents had discovered that he was Phantom, and had immediately attacked him. The only reason he had managed to get away through the portal was Jazz holding them back as she shouted at him to run.

Once in the ghost zone Clockwork was instantly by his side leading him to Far Frozen to help with his injuries. Once the worst of it was over Clockwork told him that to help keep him safe he was sending Danny far away from Amity; to Gotham. Whether he agreed or not didn't seem to matter as in a blink of an eye Danny finds himself standing in an alleyway with nothing more than what he already had.

The next few days were hard, and Danny was really trying not to let that get him down too much. So it only makes sense that the universe would take that as a challenge to do worse by raining.

When walking aimlessly in the grocery store to escape the rain he was absent mindlessly picking things up, reading them, and putting them down. That seemed to be a problem for some people though as in the next moment an older woman is grabbing his arm, and demanding him to put back what he was going to steal and asking where his parents are.

The woman doesn't even give him a chance to respond though before she is shouting at and pulling Danny towards an older teen (Tim) who is also standing in the aisle and now staring at them with wide eyes as they approach.

"You need to keep a better track of your little brother! I caught him trying to steal while you were over here looking at your phone!"

The older teen makes eye contact with those words. Now, Danny will admit that while this guy and him did look oddly a-like they weren't brothers, or at least he hoped that was the case. He would know if he was adopted right? Probably.

"Yes," Tim reaches out and pulls Danny out of the woman's grasp; tucking Danny into his side, "I'll make sure to do that thank you."

The woman obviously wants to continue talking, but before she can Tim is already walking away from her with Danny right next to him.

Danny is so thankful that Tim was willing to not correct the woman that he doesn't even notice when Tim plucks a couple hairs from him.

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Werewolf // Cinna’s Monstertober Writing Challenge

Tags: Werewolf!Geto x Fem!Reader, Alpha!Geto x Omega!Reader, A/B/O mechanics, marking, scenting, nesting, fated mates, description of violence including murder, NSFW, MDNI

Synopsis: Suguru knew you were his before you even presented as an omega, but the pack elders did not take too kindly to him marking you at such a young age. He kills anyone who gets in his way to you.

An: If you don’t like a/b/o or omegaverse, skip this one :3. If you’re a freak like me, enjoy! Also, this was my first time making my own banner in Canva.. what are we thinking?? I am also so sorry that this one is so late.

“Satoru… I’m going to kill them. I’m going to murder them all. I can’t do this anymore. She needs me.”

Let’s rewind, shall we?

Living in a small pack has its perks. Everyone is protective over one another and will always offer to help no matter what. Pack relations are strongest when the pack is smaller, and the pack is more likely to survive.

There are, of course, some cons as well. Everyone knows your business, and everyone wants a say in how you live your life.

For the longest you can remember, Suguru has been by your side. You two would spend a lot of time down at the creek together as kids. You two practically learned everything together: how to hunt, fish, trap, and forage.

He was your insistent shadow, and the pack elders thought it was adorable when you two were younger. He would without fail abandon the other small children to always go hang out with you. The two of you were like little partners in crime together.

Though their adoration turned to concern when Suguru never quite left your side. In fact, it was getting worse as he grew older. By the time he turned 13, He was abandoning hunting trips early to come home to you. He’d sneak out of his tent to go to yours late at night. Your parents would have to kick him out every morning, chastising both of you.

Though, the straw that broke the camel’s back wasn’t simple sleepovers and abandoned hunting trips. It was when he presented as an alpha. Everyone knew he would with how physically gifted he was as a young teen. He was also too damn protective for his own good, going as far as to breaking another kid’s nose for simply grabbing your wrist.

You were only a few months younger than Suguru, but you hadn’t presented yet. When he presented first, your parents forbade him from sleeping over. They were just trying their best to protect you. You two were “too old” and “not old enough” at the same time to be sleeping together.

Suguru, given that he now had the talk from his parents, knew what your parents were suggesting, but he hated it. He didn’t understand how your parents could think so lowly of him overnight just from presenting.

He lasted three nights. Three whole nights of not snuggling against you, not smelling your hair while you two drifted off to sleep, not hearing your soft snores in the dead of night. It was three sleepless nights.

Suguru always had an inkling that you were his. It was a rather strange feeling of possession, like he shouldn’t have to listen to your parents’ rules because you weren’t theirs. You were his.

His frustration only heightened when the pack started to impose longer hunting trips on him. Shorter hunting trips were reserved for those who hadn’t presented and mated alphas. Since they were mated, they couldn’t be away from their mate for too long; thus, getting the smaller trips.

All these things led him to the conclusion: you’re his mate, and he needed to mark you to prove it.

After a particularly taxing hunting trip, Suguru’s eyes filtered through the camp. Everyone was as painfully jovial as usual: sitting around doing absolutely fuck all. His eyes landed on you, and he could feel the tension melting away from him almost instantaneously. You were in charge of looking after the small children, even though you yourself were still a child.

His feet stomped over toward you without a second thought, and his hand wrapped around your arm tightly, pulling you along behind him.

“Ah- Sugu. Where are we going? I’m working-!” You shout as he continues to drag you along silently. “Sugu- The kids…” You murmur as the two of you head further into the forest.

“They’ll be fine for a few minutes.” He responded calmly before he glanced behind him. The camp was far enough away now. No one would be able to see the two of you unless they were specifically looking for you.

“What are we doing, Sugu?” You asked with a small nervous smile. You had started to have to look up at him these days. It was as if he was growing taller overnight. No longer just a boy.

He also started to stink — well, it wasn’t like a smelly smell, but it was unfamiliar. Your parents had explained pheromones. You didn’t particularly like them since you hadn’t presented yet.

“I need you to sit still, and don’t scream.” He instructed before he dipped his head between your shoulder and jaw. He experimentally sniffed at your neck — completely scentless. The only smell coming from you was your strawberry shampoo that he had grown accustomed to.

“Why would I-“ His large hand covered your mouth before you could get out another word, and he opened his mouth before clamping down on your neck. His K9’s punctured your skin, allowing for blood to trickle down your skin.

A pained cry fled your mouth, but it was muffled by his hand. Suguru felt his heart begin to race. It was happening. You were finally officially his. No one could tell him otherwise — not even your silly parents.

He calmly reassured you that you were okay while you softly wept. Your hand covered the bloody mark on your neck. He was just marking you. You know, like it was no big deal.

After sweetly kissing your tears away, he proudly walked you back to camp once you had calmed down from crying, satisfied with himself. Your hands were laced together like true mates.

The first to immediately notice was Satoru, another alpha who was barely a year older than Suguru. His eyes widened as he caught a glimpse of your marked neck.

“Suguru, what did you do?” He asks like a mother scolding her son. Usually, this was the other way around. Satoru would’ve never expected Suguru to do something as reckless as this.

“Don’t be so dramatic, Satoru. I just marked her.” He shrugs nonchalantly, still so proud of himself.

“You don’t understand. She hasn’t presented. This isn’t good. We need to-“

Your face was flushed a bright red, and Satoru could see your breath becoming more and more labored with each passing second. He frantically looked around, trying to think of what to do. Suguru probably didn’t even know that he just inadvertently forced your body to present. Having been marked, your body was now plummeting itself into a heat.

Suguru could feel you gently tugging on his hand, trying to get his attention. When he looked back at you, his eyes widened. He could tell what your body was going through, but he was just a boy. He didn’t know how to handle it.

“What are you three up to? Why aren’t the children being tended to-“ A clan elder asked after seeing the small children running around without you to watch them. His eyes landed on you, and he immediately tensed up at the scene. “What- How… Geto.”

*** *** ***

“He’s just a boy!” Suguru’s mom pleaded with tears in her eyes. Her hands clasped the young boy’s shoulders. “He has a whole life ahead of him! Don’t do this to him.”

“You’re right. He is just a boy, so it was your responsibility to teach him about these things.” A pack elder spoke.

“He’s an alpha. Even if they taught him those things, he would’ve acted on his own volition anyways.” Another spoke.

“Who even allowed him to be around her? He was suppose to be on a hunting trip, no?”

“We got back early. It was my responsibility, but we were carrying back a large buck. My mind was preoccupied. I accept full responsibility for his actions.”

“You can’t take on the full burden of responsibility. Geto is old enough to know right from wrong, and he chose the wrong path. He took that girl in the woods and marked her before she even presented as an omega.” The pack leader spoke.

Suguru stood completely motionless in front of his parents. He stayed looking down at the ground. While they argued over his future in the pack, his mind was stuck on you. They had ripped you away from him the second that the pack elder had realized that your body was in heat. He wondered if you were being taken care of okay. He wondered if you missed him as much as he missed you already. He wondered if he’d get to see you again.

“He’s done so much for this pack at such a young age. Please.. Don’t do this to him. He has his whole life ahead of him.” His mother pleaded once again. “We’ll keep a closer eye on him. We’ll do whatever it takes.”

“What about my daughter’s life?” Your dad finally spoke up after being silent for far too long. “That bastard tainted her. She could’ve presented as anything: alpha, beta, or omega, but no, he forced biology upon her with a godforsaken mark. He should be shunned from the pack.”

“He can’t be allowed to be in the same space as her. He’s already proven that he can’t be trusted. The last thing we need is for a young omega to fall pregnant because an alpha doesn’t know restraint.”

“Don’t you two have family anywhere she can stay with… just until she’s a bit older? The mark might fade after they’ve been separated for a while.” Another pack elder spoke up to your parents.

“You’re seriously removing our daughter instead of the problem child? That’s fucking rich. So, what will happen when he marks another omega far too early, huh?” Your dad argued, clenching his jaw.

“I wouldn’t do that.” Suguru finally spoke up, looking your dad in the eye. A stare off between the two ensued.

“If this is how this pack operates, fine. I don’t want her in here if we protect alphas simply due to their gender instead of the innocent.” Your dad finally grit out before stomping away from the meeting.

It took three full grown alphas and Satoru to hold Suguru back while you were leaving. They wouldn’t even allow him to say goodbye to you, not even when you cried out his name. Not even when you begged, pleaded, asked why.

*** *** ***

Suguru was never quite the same after you and your family left. It had been years. He was just a boy when they took you. Now, he’s a twenty year old brooding alpha. He was aloof towards everyone, and he only confided in Satoru. His friend seemed to he the only one who understood that he wasn’t trying to hurt you. He didn’t know that his mark would cause a great deal of stress on your body, and had he known, he wouldn’t have done it.

The rest of the pack looked at him with reserved disdain. He was a stain upon their community. Your parents were well liked in the pack, and he was the reason they weren’t there anymore.

Words kept getting tossed around, and the pack members who weren’t there for the meeting were terribly misinformed. As the rumors spread, the story became more and more horrid. They painted him out to be a monster who held you down while you begged him not to and bit your neck forcibly.

Suguru never tried to correct the stories. He had nothing to prove to these people, the people that sent you away from him. They could all think of him as a monster, especially if it meant they stayed the hell away from him.

The only thing that kept Geto from expulsion from the pack was his innate ability to hunt. His beast from was truly that of an apex predator. He went on extravagant hunting trips often, and he kept the pack fed on wonderful meats.

He looked for you, his mate, on every hunting trip. He tried to remember the faint smell that started to emit from you when your body went into heat. He looked for every sign of you.

He knew the mate bond was still strong because he could feel everything through it. He hated when you felt sad. He knew you experienced some sort of nightmares without him there to care for you while you slept. Your happiness made him feel bittersweet. He wanted you to be happy, but the thought of you being happy without him made him sick.

Your heats were the worst. Suguru would sulk in his tent in a state of horny depression. He should be taking care of you, tending to your body and every desire you had. He should be helping you nest and kissing every spot on your body while cooing praises to you.

Instead, he’s laying in his own sweat and cum, too much of a sad sack of shit to make himself go get cleaned up. His tent stunk of potent pheromones. Your heats, even while being so far away, managed to throw him into a rut each time.

He could feel your dissatisfaction. You were pining for him to come help you. It was as if you were screaming down the mate bond for him to come save you. He missed you so damn bad that he started to hate the smell of strawberries. They smelled too much of you and reminded him of what he couldn’t have

He knew that the elders still kept in touch with your parents. They were high ranking leaders in the community after all. They knew where you were, and they still opted to keep you away from him.

You and him were suffering because of the fucking elders. They caused all of this. If they would’ve kept their fucking noses out of y’all’s business, none of this would be happening.

“Satoru… I’m going to kill them. I’m going to murder them all. I can’t do this anymore. She needs me.” Suguru was practically crying for help. He was sat in his tent, holding his head in shame. His arms and legs were practically trembling.

The homicidal thoughts started when you left. It was sneaky at first, but they only got worse over time. His friend was the only one who knew about them. He knew how badly Geto craved to end their lives.

“Let me talk to them. They might listen to me.” Satoru spoke calmly as he gazed as his heartbroken best friend. The tent was heavy with the scent of alpha rut and distress. He could tell Suguru was really going through it right now.

*** *** ***

Suguru’s beast form was nothing short of a monster. He was the strongest, right next to Satoru.

His black fur was matted with blood as he pawed at the remains of the pack leader. Satoru had tried to talk to them, but they instantly shut him down. Then, to make matters worse, they sent him away on a hunting trip that same day.

Without Satoru there to keep the thoughts at bay, Suguru literally couldn’t help himself. The beast shifted before he could even do anything about it, and he was instantly blood hungry.

Tears coated his face as he shifted back to his human form. Killing the elders didn’t even help soothe him. He just wanted his fucking mate for christ’s sake. He sat on the floor in a scatter of papers from where the two beasts had fought valiantly.

Nothing could replicate the feeling of emptiness that filled him in that moment. His best friend wasn't there. His mate had been gone for oh so long. The pack leaders were now all deceased. When tomorrow morning rolled around, he'd likely be ostracized from his pack for the murders.

He laid his head back against the wall with his hands covering his face. He just wanted to see Satoru one last time before he was expelled and shunned. He wanted to apologize and thank Gojo for sticking by him for all these years.

At some point, the sleep deprivation got to Geto, causing for him to fall asleep naked in the massacre that was the pack leader's tent. Nightmares of slaughter plagued his dreams. Your face haunted him. He wondered what could've been had he known better than to mark you at an early age.

It felt so real, that he swore he heard your voice, though it was different in his dream. Your voice wasn't as squeaky as it use to be. It was smooth with age and experience yet still soft spoken. Maybe he was forgetting the way you sounded? The thought terrified him. His memory was all he had left of you.

You were... laughing? No, it couldn't be you. The voice sounded more like Gojo's-

The tent unzipping. A gasp. "Shit. Don't-" Gojo's voice.

Geto fluttered his eyes open to see Gojo standing in the small doorway of the makeshift shelter. He had... a woman's eyes covered. Her bottom lip was trembling.

"Suguru, what did you do?" Satoru asked like he did all those years back, and suddenly, Suguru felt like a small child who had no impulse control. He quickly scrambled up to his feet, using a random sheet of paper to cover his manhood.

"You were gone, and I just... I just really fucking..." His words trailed as his eyes looked over towards the woman. His heart started to pound in his chest. She looked... so much like you. It was as if he was being confronted with the ghost of his past once again.

"I went to go get her, Suguru." Satoru calmly explained with a hint of bite in his tone. "You really think I'd listen to what those old geezers said about not going to look for her? I grilled every last one of them until they slipped up and gave me enough information to find her."

Geto's eyes were as wide as saucers, and his pupils were dilated as he stared at the woman who was quietly trembling next to Satoru. His hand covered most of her face. "Is that...?"

"In the flesh." Satoru said as his hand slowly dropped from your eyes. Chills shot through Geto's body as he saw his mate's face again.

"Sugu..." Your little nickname for him. His breath went labored as he took in the sight of you for just one moment. His eyes involuntarily filled with tears before he dropped the sheet of paper and lunged for you.

His large muscular arms wrapped around your frame, pulling you into a tight embrace against him. "I'm so sorry.." He whispered in your ear like a mantra. His hands roamed across your back as if he was double checking that this was real.

“Fuck. I’m so sorry.” He whispered again in a pained voice. This was not how he wanted you to see him. He was at his lowest. “I’ve missed you so much. It feels like I’ve been underwater this entire time.”

You gently nuzzled your face into his chest, and you took a deep breath, savoring his scent. A content hum fled your lips. He smelled like home. “I’ve missed you too, Sugu.”

Suguru had grown so much since you last saw him. His body was now muscular and toned. His hair was even longer. It was tied up in a half knot while the rest of it messily splayed down his back. He wasn’t just a boy anymore — a man now.

“I hate to be the one to ruin this reunion, but there’s dead pack elders that we have to deal with.” Satoru spoke up as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Suguru reluctantly pulled back from you, not ready to let go of his missing mate. “I have no intention of staying here.” He said, eyes glancing over to the corpse on the ground. “This pack is a shit show.”

“So, what do we do?” Satoru asked, cocking an eyebrow at his friend. It was never a question in his mind. Satoru was going to go wherever Geto went.

“We start our own pack.” Geto casually threw out the idea with a small shrug. “It’s not impossible. If those incompetent creatures could do it, so can we.”

*** *** ***

You were happy and content to follow Geto and Gojo wherever the two went. It had been so long since you’ve seen the two males. You had almost forgotten how much mischief they could get up to.

Every day was filled with hiking, trying to find a new place to settle down. Every night was spent around a small fire, listening to the stories of the two while you were sent away.

When you and Geto would finally lay together next to the fire, he’d lazily play with your hair and whisper sweet nothings in your ear. He’d tell you how beautiful you were and how there was never a day that went by when he didn’t think of you.

“Have I mentioned how terrible it was without you?” He murmured in your ear while his large hand was gently caressing your hip. He would carefully slip it underneath your shirt. The pad of his thumb caressing your soft skin.

“Only a million times.” You giggled in response, looking up at him to meet his gaze.

“Make it a million and one then. It was terrible.” He quietly laughed, not wanting to wake up Satoru who was snuggled on the ground on the other side of the fire.

“I missed you too.” You replied. Your hand carefully reached up and cupped his cheek. Your head was resting on his bicep while your legs were intertwined. “I tried calling out to you often through the mate bond.”

“I felt it each time.” He admitted as his hand slowly snaked higher up your torso. “I felt each time you went into heat and needed me.”

The fire calmly crackling masked the small whimper that fled from your lips. “I’m sorry. I know that probably drove you crazy.”

“You have no idea.” He muttered as he leaned in and pressed a small kiss to the mark on your neck. It hadn’t faded in the slightest. Your body knew you were his before you presented as well. “I dreamt of going out to find you.”

“Yeah? What would you do had you found me while I was in heat?”

“Mmm..” He hummed in a low tone as he gazed at you with a small smirk on his face. “I would sneak into whatever tent you were in like I use to when we were kids.” He spoke softly as his hand continued to trail up your side slowly.

“I’d find you lying there, already such a mess for me.” He went on, painting the picture vividly for you. Your eyes slipped shut as you imagined it for yourself. “Then, I’d pin you down to your nest, stopping you from taking care of yourself.” He went on, and he rolled on top of you, pinning your arms down with his free hand.

The sickly sweet scent of your arousal building lingered in the air, making Suguru’s heart pound in his chest. You smelled even more yummy than he imagined you to.

“What next?” You ask softly in a breathless voice.

“I’d kiss your lips until they were bruised.” He mumbled, and he leaned down to you before pressing his lips harshly against yours. He groaned softly as soon as he could feel you kissing back. He poured all of his love and hunger into his affections. He needed you like he needed air. You were his sole salvation - his reason for living

He carefully pushed your shirt up over your chest, and he skillfully reached behind you, unclasping your bra within a few seconds. You worked with him, pulling it away from your body before you wrapped your legs around his waist.

His hand came up and carefully cupped your breast. Hs kneaded on the soft pillowy flesh with another groan. He gently bit your swollen lip, asking for entry before proceeding to deepen the kiss. He swallowed up your small moans and gasps.

"Then," he softly pant out after parting from the kiss, "I'd mark up your neck again and again. I never want you to forget who you belong to." His head dipped into your neck, and his lips latched on to the soft skin.

He sucked, nibbled, and bit his way up and down your neck, making good on his promise to mark you up. Your hips raised up to meet his, needily searching for friction to ease the ache between your thighs.

"My poor omega.." He mumbled softly against your skin before allowing his hand to trail down and to grope you at your core.

"Fuck- Sugu.." Your voice was a soft whine, forgetting all about Gojo who was asleep not even 10 feet away.

"Shhh, princess. Don't wake him." Suguru shushed you softly with a impish grin. His hands now worked to take your pants and panties off. "Want me to keep going?"

"Please..." Your face is illuminated by the warm glow of the fire before you two. A soft blush spread across your cheeks.

"Mmm, then you have to be quiet." Suguru teased before he allowed himself the pleasure of gazing at your glistening cunt. "Oh, so pretty." He mused before leaning in to press a soft kiss to your folds.

Suguru's mind was running haywire as he generously lapped at your wet heat. He had imagined this happening so many times while he fucked his own fist. It's all finally worked out. He's finally gotten to taste you, to hear you moan his name.

Your fingers entangled in his hair, holding onto him for support while he devoured you thoroughly.

"Mmn.. Sugu~ S'close... please." You quietly whimpered out, warning him of your impending release while he slurped at your cunt, drinking down your slick as if you were a fountain of youth.

"Can you hold it, baby?" His voice was muffled as he didn't dare part from you.

"N-no, I-" You softly whine, starting to rock your hips back and forth across his tongue. You were desperate for release, nearly riding his face to get there.

Suguru tugged back away from you. "That just won't do, darling." He mumbles as he unbuttons his pants and pulls his pants and boxers down just enough. "I need your first time finishing with me to be on my cock. Think you can do that for me?"

You're quick to nod in agreement with his wish, desperately needing the approval of your alpha. You had already caught a glimpse of his size when you and Satoru first arrived. Even when soft, Suguru still isn't small. Now that he's fully hard, it's almost intimidating.

"Mmm~ such a good girl." He quietly praised as he carefully guided his cock between your slick covered folds. He held your gaze as he rubbed his tip up and down, creating a wet "schlick" noise with each movement. His poor neglected cock leaked sticky pre-cum along your core, making everything so messy.

"Bite on my hand." He instructed as he placed his hand over your mouth. "Don't want you makin' too much noise." With a small huff, you bite down onto his hand.

Humping you a few more times, Geto finally decided to push himself into you. Your body immediately went rigid as you tried to cope with the new pressure between your legs. It felt as if he was trying to split you in two, completely impaling you with his thick cock.

"Ohh~ fuuu... That's it.." Geto's voice was deeper and extremely breathy. His eyes were half-lidded as he continued to watch your facial reactions. The small tears crowding the corners of your eyes made him throb. "You're so fucking tight."

"it's not gonna fit-" You quietly whined behind the palm of his hand. Meanwhile, your fingernails were embedded into his back, decorating him with scratch marks.

"It's gonna fit, baby." He quietly reassured you as he pulled back a bit and sunk back in. Your slick coated his length, making it easier for him to push in more. "Gotta let me stretch you."

"Ngh~ ah.." Your voice cracked as your leaned your head back against the ground. Suguru's hips rolled, just barely fucking into your tight cunt. He'd add another inch with each thrust, allowing you time to gradually get use to him.

The air was filled with shushed panting and breathy whines. The sound of your sopping cunt squeezing around him was like a holy song to him. You were the only slice of heaven Geto would ever see.

He had been so caring; you hadn't even realized he was all the way in until you felt a thump towards your stomach. "Ohmygod-" The gasp fell from your mouth before you could even think to stop it. "Fuuuck... feel you right here.." You meekly murmured as you pointed towards your tummy.

"Yeah baby? Feel me all the way in there?" He humors your intoxicated speech as he's lovingly thrusting into you. "You feel so fucking good." He praised as he peppered your face in sweet kisses.

Your spongy walls cling to his dick with each soft thwack of his balls clapping against the flesh of your ass. You're completely soaked around him, allowing him to glide in and out with ease.

His fat tip was damp with sweltering pre-cum gathering at his slit. With each thrust, his tip was kissing at your womb, making you feel all dumb in the head. He occupied his mouth with kissing and sucking more love bites into your shoulders. "So good, baby... ah~ so fuckin' good." He continued to mumble praises in a pussy drunk tone.

Both of your bodies were glistening in a mix of sweat and slick. The fire raged beside you two keeping you very warm while he pumped in and out. "Can't get enough. Need more.. ngh~ M-missed you so much." He growled lowly in your ear as his tender thrusts grew sloppier - fueled by an intense need.

"Suguu~ fuck me." That little needy whine was all he needed to start forcefully pounding into you. Noise level be damned; he needed his omega on a biblical level that Satoru would never be able to understand.

Plap! Plap! Plap!

Your poor cunt was practically sobbing for him - making a complete mess between your thighs as his cock rudely drilled into you. Your back arched up off of the ground, and you could feel your eyes rolling back. It felt like you were ascending to a higher being.

Suguru caught your lips in a sloppy kiss. Strings of saliva connected your mouths like strings of fate as you muffled each others moans. "Need to knot you - f-fuck, please, let me knot you."

Your legs wrap completely around Suguru's waist. "Knot me, Sugu.. hngh~ I'm s'close.."

Suguru's legs began to shake as he could feel his balls growing heavy. Instincts completely drove him to keep fucking himself into your drooling cunt. His eyes stayed on you as he felt himself growing closer and closer to the edge.

"Sh-shit!" You hissed as your gummy walls suddenly tightened around him. The squelching noises slowed as he felt his knot starting to swell. His hands gripped onto your hips as he had to force his way deep inside your wet heat. The knot locking you two in place before he completely spilled inside you.

"Fuuucking hell..." Suguru breathed out as he stayed planted on top of you. His breath was labored as his hand brushed a few stray hairs from your face. "No one will ever take you away from me again. You're mine."

Bonus Scene!

Upon waking up the next morning on Suguru's bare chest, you sighed contently. Your body ached in the best way. Though, you knew it would only make this trek even harder.

You slowly sat up with a quiet groan. Your face was slightly sticky from sweat and drool. He had really wore you out last night.

"Morning, sleepy head." Suguru mumbled as his eyes rested upon your tired face.

"Mmm.. morning." You quietly hummed as your hands instinctively smoothed out your hair, trying to make yourself look presentable.

"Good morning, Satoru." The white-haired alpha spoke to himself in a grumpy, sarcastic tone as he stared at the two of you.

"It's too early for your attitude, Satoru." Suguru quietly laughed as he looked at his friend.

"You can deal with my attitude given what I had to deal with last night." He huffed as his lips curled into a slight pout.

"You didn't-"

"Oh, I did." He confirmed. "Oooohhh, please knot me, Sugu. Oh so big and strong!" He mocked your voice in a high pitched tone.

"Oh god, please stop." You whine as you covered your ears. A nervous laugh involuntarily bubbled up from your throat.

"Mmm, fuck. Gonna knot this tight cun-"

"That's enough, Satoru." Suguru playfully warned as he shook his head with a calm smile. It didn't bother him one bit that he heard the two of you last night because he knew that Satoru was going to hear you two again tonight as well.

Read the rest of my monstertober here !

[bananzerssims]

Color Theory Legacy Challenge

Do you like color? Do you like legacy challenges that switch things up each generation? Do you like family cozy gameplay AND spicy dramatic gameplay?

Well, then this is the legacy challenge for you! Inspired by classic legacy challenges like the Not So Berry Challenge by @lilsimsie and @alwaysimming and Such Colorful Lives by @thepanplumbob, this legacy challenge is a ten generation legacy challenge where each generation's goals and personality are based on the color theory of their assigned color!

General Rules: 1. Normal Lifespan recommended 2. Each Heir must represent the color of their generation BUT Berry sims are not required (Though feel free to use them if you want!) 3. Keep money cheats to a minimum! 4. Each heir must complete their required Careers and Aspirations unless specifically stated otherwise 5. Each heir can be any of the previous heir's children, no matter the birth order, unless specifically stated otherwise

Generation One: White - The Beginning White symbolizes innocence, purity, and beginnings... People call you innocent… naive… But that’s not really the case. You know exactly how cruel the world can be so you strive to make it a better place. You pour yourself into your career and your children and your marriage, determined to spend your life helping others and to raise children that help others, too.Your house is always sparklingly clean and there’s always a hot meal on the table and an extra bed (or sleeping bag or couch) for sims who need it.

Traits: Good, Generous, Neat

Aspiration: Friend of the World

Career: Doctor

Other Requirements:

Gain and Maintain a Pristine Reputation 

Master Charisma and Cooking Skills

Reach at least Level Five of the Baking Skill

Have a Good Friends Relationship with all your kids

Donate to charity every week, as much as you can afford

Have an idyllic romance with your partner that inspires your heir

Optional: Master the Parenting Skill

Continued Under the Cut:

Generation Two: Pink - The Romantic Nurturer Pink symbolizes love, compassion, and nurturing. You just love love! Your parents had an idyllic romance that taught you what love was supposed to look like. And you want everyone to have that kind of love! Including yourself! The problem is you just can't seem to decide which sim owns your heart! You have a couple lovers as a teen before finally settling down with your soulmate and raising a family together. 

Traits: Perfectionist, Lovebug, Family Oriented

Aspiration: Paragon Partner (teen), Big Happy Family (adult)

Career: Romantic Consultant (either branch)

Other Requirements:

Master Parenting and Romance Skills

Reach at least Level Five of the Charisma Skill

Spoil your kids rotten (Rarely use the Punish option when correcting them)

Stay Soulmates with your spouse and go on one date a week

Optional: Have a love triangle as a teen

Generation Three: Red - The Passionate Actor Red symbolizes passion. You are a very passionate person, you always have been, but you’ve never cared for being kind. Not like your parent. You’re more of a hot-head, and tell it like it is. This means you make a lot of enemies. Who cares about Enemies when you have lovers? But none of those lovers are good enough for you, so you hop from one to the next, leaving a trail of broken hearts (and maybe one or two affair babies). For all your romantic exploits, your true love is the stage. You want to see your name up in lights!

Traits: Hot-Headed, Mean, Romantic

Aspiration: Villainous Valentine

Career: Actor

Other Requirements:

Master Romance, and Acting Skills

Reach at least Level Five of the Mischief Skill

Have more Enemies than Friends

Have three kids, all with different married sims.

Have a negative relationship with all your kids

Become a 5 Star Celebrity

Optional: Interact with your kids as little as possible, have them raised by a sibling, grandparent, or nanny

Generation Four: Brown - The Steadfast Farmer Brown is the color of strength and reliability. You’ve never gotten on too well with your parents. Neither of them were ever really around, so as the oldest, you sort of ended up as your younger siblings’ default parent. Of course, your grandparents did what they could to help, but they had their own lives. So, when you could, you found solace in animals. Animals aren’t like people, they don’t hurt you on purpose.  When you’re finally old enough, you take your younger siblings and ditch your parents, moving to the countryside to finally have some peace. There, you build up a farm, with livestock and horses, and, of course, a family that actually loves each other.

Traits: Animal Enthusiast, Rancher, Loyal

Aspiration: Country Caretaker

Career: None, make money off your crops, livestock, and nectar

Other Requirements:

MUST be the eldest child of the Red generation

Master Horse Riding, Gardening, and Nectar Making skills

Own at least one pet (horses, dogs, or cats, it's up to you) at any given time

Own A Ranch or Farm with Chickens, Goats or Sheep, and Cows or Llamas

Once you reach Young Adulthood, run away from home with your younger siblings and raise them on your own.

Optional: do a Rags to Riches Challenge with this generation

Generation Five: Orange - The Childish Adventurer Orange symbolizes adventure and youthful passion. Okay, so you’re a bit of an oddball. Who cares? You delight in being unabashedly yourself! Your family was close knit, not just your parents and siblings, but your pets, cousins, and aunts and uncles as well, and they never tried to dull your sparkle. But the countryside, for all of its bucolic beauty, just doesn’t satisfy your love of adventure, so shortly after your adult birthday, you kiss your family goodbye and set off to see the world.

Traits: Adventurous, Cringe, Childish

Aspiration: Extreme Sports Enthusiast

Career: Athlete

Other Requirements:

Master Fitness and Rock Climbing Skills

Reach at least Level Five of the Skiing or Snowboarding skills

Live in three different worlds (not including the one you were raised)

Marry an Active Sim

Go on vacation to each of the vacation worlds at least once

Optional: Gain the Adrenaline Seeker lifestyle

Generation Six: Yellow - The Paranoid Techie Yellow symbolizes cheerfulness and happiness, but also cowardice or fear. You’ve always been a little… cautious. You’re not adventurous like your parent, choosing instead to be a homebody. Social stuff and trying new things are just a bit too daunting for you. So, you find your outlets in tech and video games instead. The people in those circles don’t seem to care as much about your awkwardness.  And there, among zeros and ones and other geeks, you finally blossom, transforming into a sunny, bright person. You’ll never be especially social, but your small circle is enough for you.

Traits: Paranoid, Socially Awkward, Cheerful

Aspiration: Computer Whiz

Career: Tech Guru

Other Requirements:

Master Programming and Video Gaming Skills

Reach at least Level Five of the Handiness Skill

Have a club of fellow geeky friends who you get together and game with regularly

Move to San Myshuno and spend your whole life there

Have only two children

Optional: Gain the Techie lifestyle or the Geek trait

Generation Seven: Green - The Eco-Conscious Hippie Green symbolizes nature and vitality but also jealousy. You never quite fit in with your family members. While your parents and sibling all had a similar passion for technology, yours is a bit more nature focused. In fact, you're a bit of a hippie. There's no shame in that!  As soon as you're old enough, you leave the smog and traffic of the city behind and move to Evergreen Harbor, hoping to live a greener life, only to come face to face with a community in sore need of a clean up.  You've never been one to back down from a challenge so you roll up your sleeves and get to work. Unfortunately, you spend so much time on your projects that you don't have time for love… until one day you notice everyone else seems to have gotten married and had kids, leaving you behind! Will you ever find the love you desire before it's too late?

Traits: Recycle Disciple, Freegan, Jealous.

Aspiration: Master Maker

Career: Freelance Crafter

Other Requirements:

Master Fabricating and Wellness skills

Reach at least Level Five of the Herbalism skill

Clean Up Evergreen Harbor

Live an Eco-Conscious life (Off The Grid lot, tiny home if possible)

Stay single until you are an Adult

Have only one child

Optional: Marry a sim in the Eco Innovator Career

Generation Eight: Blue - The Ocean-Loving Artist Blue symbolizes inspiration and creativity. You’ve always been a bit of a gloomy sim. Maybe that’s because Evergreen Harbor doesn’t have much scope for the imagination. It’s nice that the town is all cleaned up thanks to your parent, but you often find yourself at the docks, staring at the sea. Here, it’s gray and green and not much else. While you find the colors you love in the gems you collect and shape, you find yourself wishing you could see those colors in your beloved ocean. So, as soon as you’re able, you make your way to Sulani. But once there, you discover that the islands are in a sorry state. You’ve learned a thing or two about helping the environment from your parents, so you roll up your sleeves and get to work.

Traits: Creative, Gloomy, Child of the Ocean

Aspiration: Painter Extraordinaire

Career: Conservationist

Other Requirements:

Clean Up Mua Pel’am

Master Painting and Gemology skills

Reach at least Level Five of the Fishing skill

Live In Sulani and Marry a Native

Live on the Beach

Optional: Finish the Sea Shell Collection, become a Mermaid

Generation Nine: Purple - The Self-Absorbed Scientist Purple symbolizes luxury and ambition. You’ve never loved the podunk environment of the Islands. You want more, something grander, something befitting your genius. Something that makes you known. And what better way to do that than making the lives of sims better with your inventions? You wouldn’t call yourself a mad scientist, in fact, you’re very sane. It’s not your fault people don’t appreciate your genius!

Traits: Genius, Self Absorbed, Ambitious

Career: Scientist

Aspiration: Mansion Baron

Other Requirements:

Master Logic and Robotics Skills

Reach at least Level Five of the Rocket Science skill

Max Scientist Career

Marry an Evil Sim 

Optional: Have an Alien Baby (doesn’t have to be the heir)

Generation Ten: Black - The Ending Black symbolizes death, darkness, and mystery. People assume that when you dress in all black and talk about death that you’re a bad person. And they would be right. About you, at least. Maybe that comes from having Evil Scientists as parents. Who knows. Whatever it is, you’ve always had a fascination with whatever comes after life. And you’ve always felt Death hovering at your side but maybe he’s not the enemy you thought he was…

Traits: Macabre, Evil, Chased By Death

Aspiration: Ghost Historian

Career: Reaper

Other Requirements:

Master Thanatology, Medium, and Writing Skills

Live in a Haunted House for Seven Days

Write Horror Novels in your free time

Have a baby with GrimDie Young and Become an Evil Ghost

Optional: finish the Tarot Card Collection

I hope you all enjoy playing this challenge! Feel free to tag me if you do and please have fun!

XOXO, Bananzer

[savanir]

DP x DC prompt [3]

during one of the final psych evals at Arkham right before he gets to be released, the whole thing wrapped up so tidy, just a little relapse which involved a robbery. Getting sent back to Arkham, but he got to stay at the asylum so long that he no longer has to serve a prison sentence, score!

But during that eval his overseeing psychiatrist recommended him to have a change of scenery, some fresh non polluted air.

Riddler was rather convinced the guy was making this recommendation to everyone in Arkham in their own weird way to convince them to just leave Gotham and become someone else's problem. should he notify Batman about it somehow? nah, it’ll be more interesting to see how this is gonna turn out in the long run.

But can he leave the state? Can he even leave the city? he never really bothered to look into it, at least not legally, up until now if he felt he needed to leave for one of his plans he just did it.

Turns out he can, it’s a whole hassle and a half though, first a judge and then a probation officer and he’s pretty sure both were like “what the hell is this psychiatrist guy thinking!?” but at the same time, shrink probably knows what he’s doing (WRONG) so he’s allowed to go visit out of state family or whatever.

he had to wear this nice ankle monitor though, Wayne Enterprises™ tech, not overly bulky but still very present. real fancy, and a fun extra challenge heh.

now as for a good reason to leave New Jersey he’s going to need distant relatives, and he finds some, great grandpa walker also has a son, who had a son who had a daughter Madeline, who married some guy Jack Fenton, and she lives somewhere out in the boonies Illinois. great he’ll visit her.

far enough away in all sense of the word that there is no way she knows anything about him. it would be best to call her first though, be polite about it.

“hello, you have reached Fenton works, this is Maddie speaking” 

“Riddle me this-” ah whoops, habit, oh whatever, “we don’t share parents, but certainly a part of your life, from laughter to strife. Who am I?”

there is a pause …  he’s going to be a bit disappointed if she hangs up if he’s honest.

“cousins~” comes the cheery reply.

“correct! the name is Edward Nygma, we are distantly related you and I and well-”

“oh you simply must come visit!” 

well this was rather easy, perhaps a little too easy, but she lives in the midwest so maybe just going with whatever some guy says over the phone is normal there? stranger danger not really a thing in a small town where everyone knows everyone?

things start to make a little more sense once he gets there and he’s starting to think some things might run in the family. like a preference for the colour green and weird hyperfixations and genius bordering on insanity. Though that remains to be seen, Jack does not seem like a very bright light after his very enthusiastic welcome.

their kids however are observant and sharp. young Jasmine is wasting no time trying to psychoanalyze him. and the boy, Danny, he had not really meant to and he swears he’s sticking with calling the kid Danny so he wouldn’t seem overly familiar, but he might have called him little bird a couple times now.

but that’s all whatever, he’s playing nice here. and he doesn’t even have to worry about his eccentricities tripping him up because this place is insane.

There actually is a local teen vigilante active but he seems about as loved as he’s disliked. and the ghost boy’s enemies are basically all his own kind, which another crazy thing to now know about. ghost. they are real actually, how is Gotham not completely overrun? and how do they even work? and where do they keep coming from?

Edward might be getting a little sidetracked here. He had fully intended to sneakily get his next big game plan underway all the way out here, ankle monitor be damned. but he hasn’t made any progress at all.

Instead he’s been listening to Madeline and Jack to maybe figure out what the deal is with these ectoplasmic entities, he has to know, at this point he might go crazier if he doesn’t. 

He’s making Jasmine promise him not to get her doctorate in Gotham, he’s going back and forth with space riddles with Danny.

so yeah the whole thing kinda just became a vacation, maybe the psychiatrist had the right idea after all? hmm nah, probably not. but this is fun. He’s thinking about recommending this place to some of the others.

It's different enough to get the vacation feel, but enough crazy shit happens to make it all feel like home.

it is not until Maddie wants to talk with him about potentially switching the position of godfather of Danny to him rather than some weird rich friend of theirs that Edward realizes he might have lost the plot somewhere

Apparently the little bird basically begged them with a powerpoint presentation on how he likes Edward so much more than that Vladimir guy. 

And honestly, the fellow sounds like a Dracula Lutho so even if it’s kinda sad Edward can understand why he’d be considered a better option. Even if the guy has more money and a huge company that makes him said money. And it’s not like the Fentons know about his Riddler activities.

Thinking it over, Edward does think that Danny would like Gotham and Wayne has that space program thing right? The kid is definitely smart enough for that (Nygma certified), and yeah Edward does quite like their space themed back and forth. So, fuck it, why not, what is the worst that could happen?

He doubts Maddie and Jack are gonna kick it any time soon anyway out here in the boonies, it’s just a title thing, a stamp of approval or something.

he should have known he was going to eat those words later… he had this whole beautifully elaborate trap set up for the whole Batclan, and he was just getting to the good part when his phone went off.

Had to put the whole thing on pause cause that particular contact wasn’t gonna get ignored. He did promise to be available.

If the whole thing he had planned now went tits up he could at the very least laugh later at the reactions of the bats as he told them to “hold up one second, I have to take this.” while they were all in various perilous positions. 

Sadly he did have to go, he had a very distressed godson to pick up.

[camille-aurelie-deveraux]

Hi queen! I hope you have an amazing day. Could I please request Oscar with an Asian reader and her teaching him a bit of Japanese or something. When McLaren films some content everyone is like really impressed Oscar speaks such good Japanese. And he is like all thanks to my girlfriend

Language of Love

McLaren’s media team was buzzing with energy on a sunny Thursday morning in Melbourne. The garage had been cleaned and cleared to make space for a casual filming setup. Two director’s chairs were placed in front of a backdrop that read “Language Challenge – Aussie Edition,” with small Japanese flags printed in the corners.

Lando was the first to arrive, grinning as he read the sign. “Language challenge? What is this, Duolingo: Driver Mode?”

Oscar followed closely behind, a coffee in hand, looking way too calm for what was about to unfold. “You’ll see,” he said with a mischievous smile.

They took their seats, and a member of the media team handed each of them a little whiteboard and a marker.

“Okay boys,” the director began, “we’re doing a Japanese word guessing challenge today. You’ll each hear a word in Japanese, and you’ll have to write what you think it means. Winner gets... bragging rights.”

Lando groaned dramatically. “Why do I feel like Oscar has an unfair advantage?”

Oscar just smirked and leaned back in his chair. “Well... I might have had a little help.”

The camera rolled, and the first word was played through the speaker.

"ありがとう (arigatou)"

Lando looked like he was having a brain freeze. “I’ve heard this before,” he muttered. “It’s in anime, right?”

Oscar was already scribbling confidently.

Lando finally wrote something down: ‘Good morning?’

Oscar held up his board: ‘Thank you’

“Correct!” the media person called out. “Oscar gets the point!”

Oscar turned to the camera and grinned. “All thanks to my girlfriend. She’s been teaching me.”

Lando narrowed his eyes. “Wait, since when do you speak Japanese?”

Oscar chuckled. “Since I met her, really. She moved to Australia from Japan back when we were still in school. Her English was still a bit rough, and I kind of... helped her out. And she helped me with Japanese. It became our thing.”

Lando’s eyes widened. “Mate, that’s like... so romantic. You’re casually bilingual now?”

Oscar shrugged modestly. “I wouldn’t say bilingual. But I can hold a conversation.”

The next word came through:

"猫 (neko)"

Lando blinked. “What the hell was that?”

Oscar grinned. “Come on, you’ve seen enough memes to know this one.”

Lando shook his head. “Nope. Not a clue.”

Oscar wrote down ‘Cat’ and lifted his board.

“Correct again!” the host called.

Oscar smiled fondly. “She taught me that one when we saw a stray kitten near the station. She just went ‘あっ！猫！(Ah! Neko!)’ and ran to pet it. I had no idea what was happening at the time.”

Lando laughed. “You were probably like, ‘Is she casting a spell?’”

Oscar laughed too. “Pretty much.”

“Say something in Japanese!” Lando urged. “Impress me.”

Oscar glanced at the camera and then straightened up a little, his voice soft but confident.

“彼女は僕のすべてです。”

(“Kanojo wa boku no subete desu.”)

(“She is my everything.”)

The room went quiet for a moment. One of the media girls in the background softly whispered, “Oh my god.”

Lando clutched his heart. “Okay, that’s not fair. That’s like weaponized sweetness. How is Yn real?”

Oscar laughed, cheeks tinting pink. “She’s the best. Honestly. I wouldn't have survived half my teen years without her.”

Another word popped up:

"勉強 (benkyou)"

Lando scratched his head again. “Nope. This one’s a mystery.”

Oscar wrote quickly: ‘Study’

“Correct!”

Lando sighed and tossed his marker down. “Okay, clearly you’ve been holding out on us. You’re secretly a genius.”

Oscar laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not even close. It was just hours of flashcards and cuddles and helping her with pronunciation. She wanted to get better at English so badly. I remember staying up with her, going over vocabulary, watching movies with subtitles. We made a deal: if she learned a new English word, I’d learn a new Japanese one.”

Lando stared at him. “You guys are like... the most wholesome couple in F1.”

Oscar smiled shyly. “I’m just proud of her. Moving countries at that age? Learning a whole new language? She’s incredible.”

The last word came up:

"愛 (ai)"

Oscar smiled instantly, no hesitation. He wrote ‘Love’ and lifted the board.

Lando peeked over and then sighed in defeat. “You know what? I’m just going to go cry in the car.”

The media team burst into laughter.

“I think we all need to find someone like Yn,” one of the camera guys said.

“She sounds like a dream,” another added.

Oscar leaned toward the mic. “She’s real. And she’s watching this, probably shaking her head because I still mess up my particles sometimes.”

Back at home, Yn was sitting on the couch, curled up with a blanket and a cup of matcha, her laptop open and the McLaren video playing.

When Oscar said, “彼女は僕のすべてです,” she smiled so hard her cheeks ached.

She grabbed her phone and texted him:

“You’re such a show-off. But I love you.”

He replied a minute later:

“愛してるよ (Aishiteru yo). You taught me that.”

Later that evening, Oscar came home to find Yn waiting at the door, arms crossed, a playful glint in her eye.

“You know, now everyone’s going to expect you to be fluent.”

Oscar grinned and wrapped his arms around her. “That just means you’ll have to keep teaching me.”

She raised a brow. “Alright, then. Let’s see if you remember this one—‘おかえり (okaeri)’.”

He leaned in and whispered, “ただいま (tadaima).”

(Welcome home / I’m home.)

She kissed him softly. “Perfect.”

And somewhere online, the McLaren video was trending under the caption:

“Oscar speaks fluent love.”

🧡🦊🪸🍁🧡🦊🪸🍁🧡🦊🪸🍁🧡🦊🪸🍁

Hello, my lovely reader. I hope you all enjoyed reading my story. Send me some requests if you have any wishes.

Also, I tried my best with Japanese, so please forgive me if there are any mistakes.

See ya next time!

-Cami🧡🦊🪸🍁

[sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth]

You're bossy. And short.

(Sam Winchester x female reader)

Summary Sam gets drunk because he’s jealous and you try to put him to bed, but he decides to be difficult... CWs Drunk Sam. Jealousy. Flirting. Sassy Sam my beloved. Rated Teen. 2.1k words.

Sam Winchester masterlist ⏐ SPN masterlist

“You’re bossy,” you hear someone mutter behind you.

You turn around, looking at Sam, dumbfounded.

“What?” you ask, not believing your ears.

“You’re bossy,” Sam repeats, in a so what? tone.

And then, looking you up and down in a way that makes you shudder, grinning to himself, he adds: “And short.”

You blink a few times. “Are… are you drunk?” you ask him.

Sam is standing in the door, leaning against it, his big frame swaying back and forth a little.

“Yeah,” he answers, raising his hands in challenge, before immediately needing to put one back on the door frame to stop himself from stumbling. “So?”

“Sam,” you say, finding your voice meet a pitch of reason and slight annoyance that you usually only ever have to use with Dean. “We’re on a case. You can’t just get shit-faced in the middle of a job.”

You turn around fully, leaning one hand on the table next to you to drive your point of reasonability home. But Sam just scoffs.

You hold your posture, pretending you're not distracted by his long neck, the tendons pulling there, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down every time he talks.

Or the little dip below that, where sometimes a little bit of sweat collects when he's exerting himself.

Or the way his hair is now falling over his forehead, soft and fluffy and how you just want to run your fingers through it.

Or how his drunkenness is making him look so limber, so unconcerned with being proper and decent and polite, and how his hips have a little sway to them that make you want to bite into the table top next to you.

You swallow, pushing all these thoughts down, which is easy, easy peasy even. Too easy almost, at least until you look at him again after a second and it all comes flooding back.

“Okay,” you say, proud of how little your voice is shaking. “Let’s get you to bed, Sasquatch.”

You walk up to him, taking one of his arms and laying it over your shoulder, which isn't helpful in the least and has the unfortunate side effect of, well, having his arm around your shoulder and also just all of Sam being pretty close to you. So, bad idea all around.

You press your teeth together, determined to come out of this with at least a little bit of your dignity intact.

As you lead him over to his bed, he mumbles: “Don’t need any help.” Now it's your turn to scoff.

“Yeah,” you reply, “you seem totally fine.” You reach the bed.

“Sit down,” you order, but Sam doesn't budge so you use his lack of coordination to push him back a little, making his calves bump into the bed and his ass meet the mattress. It would have never worked if he was sober, but you're okay with using this little advantage in your favor.

Sam sits, still swaying, looking up at you. You go for his jacket, pushing it off his shoulder, and Sam raises his arms trying to shrug it off, but is being the opposite of helpful.

“Jesus,” you say, “how did you get into this state? I saw you three hours ago.”

Sam is waving one arm trying to get his jacket off, and you lean back a little to avoid getting clocked.

“Yeah,” he mutters, “when you sen’ me away. Like I said, bossy.”

You mmh-hmm at him and finally get his jacket off, taking it from him and tossing it on Dean’s bed.

He will sleep more comfortably without it on, but the price you have to pay is seeing him in his shirt, a roughed jeans one that is, like most of Sam’s shirts, a little tight on him, mostly because of his height but also because he is just kind of crap at shopping for himself.

It has ridden up a little in his battle with the jacket, and its hem is now stopping over the waistband of his jeans, over the belt, drawing your eyes to places they are not supposed to be drawn to.

“Shoes,” you say to distract yourself, but Sam doesn't react. He's staring off into the room, his eyebrows pulled down and his mouth in a pout that you would love nothing more than to kiss.

You sigh, then kneel down in front of him.

“I don’t need—” he begins, but you interrupt him.

“Yeah, yeah,” you say, “you don’t need help, I know.”

You start untying one of his big shoes, Sam squirming a little. It might be uncomfortable for him to be treated like this, but then he's gotten himself into this situation. He's just gonna have to live with it.

“Why’d you have to flirt with that guy?” you suddenly hear him ask, his voice low. You look up at him, tossing some hair out of your face in the process.

“What?” you ask, shaking your head a little. Sam’s expression is different, in fact his entire mood seems to have changed. Does he seem upset?

“The guy, the witness, the what’s-his-face,” he says, not looking at you, instead suddenly terribly interested in the nightstand next to the bed. “Why’d you flirt with him?” A huff leaves you.

“Sam, I was—" you start. "I was trying to get him to talk about where he got all that money from. I told you that. What do you mean?”

You shake your head, turning back to his shoes. If Sam is going to start giving you shit about using your charm to help solve a case and potentially save some people, you aren't going to give him the satisfaction of getting to do it to your face.

“But why’d you have to—” Sam hiccups a little, then continues. “Why’d you have to touch him and smile at him so much?” You can't help but chuckle. You look back up at him. “Cause that’s what flirting is, Samuel.”

Finally he looks at you. “’s Sam,” he mumbles, and then: “I hate it when you flirt for a case.”

Sam can be a bit of a square, but even for him this seems like an overreaction. Just then you pull his boots off him, after having fought his shoelaces which he’s tied in a weird double knot.

“Yeah, well,” you say, pushing yourself up with your hands on your legs. “Soon as you or Dean grow a pair of boobs I’m happy to stop doing it. Okay, get into bed, you’re going to sleep.”

Sam sways a little where he's sitting, thinking, definitely not lying down as you ordered him to. Then he looks down at his knees.

“I don’t like it when you do it,” he mumbles. You're just about to tell him that he can well and truly get off his high horse, when he adds: “He was starin’ at you and checking you out, being a creep an’ I just wanted to punch him.”

Hmm. Okay.

Weird reaction, and definitely not what you were expecting.

Shaking your head again, you sigh. “Look, he was a creep, but we got the info we needed and it might help us stop this thing before someone else gets hurt.” You shrugg. “If I have to endure the occasional ass grab for that then I think that’s not the worst deal.”

Before you even finish the sentence, Sam is suddenly standing up.

“Woah, woah, woah,” you say, having to take a step back. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m ‘a go find him and beat the crap outta him,” he more slurs than says, “that’s what I’m doing.”

“Sam!”

“He can’t jus’ touch you and get away with it.”

“Sam, he didn’t,” you say, raising your hands in the hope to contain him. “I meant generally. He didn’t, okay?”

Sam looks down at you, a confused look on his face.

“Oh,” he says.

“Jeez, what is up with you?” you ask. He suddenly looks very embarrassed.

“I thought…” he mutters, but doesn't finish the sentence. He sways a little again, leaning towards you and for a second his height and broadness and the look on his face almost take your breath away. You put your hands on his elbows.

“Sit down before you topple, okay?” you say.

This time, Sam listens, plopping down on the mattress again. He's still looking embarrassed as you cross your arms in front of you.

“Look,” you say, hoping to put him out of his misery. “It’s really sweet that you want to defend my honor or whatever, but there’s no need.”

Sam smiles a little, bashful, lowering his head to hide it.

“And secondly,” you continue, hoping to finally put this topic, and this interaction that is driving you a little mad, to bed, along with Sam. “Secondly, I know flirting for information is probably below the high and mighty moral standards of Sam Winchester, but sometimes it works, and I’m okay with it.”

Sam looks up at you, eyes narrowed and expression confused.

“What?” he says.

“I said, that flirting for information—” you respond, but Sam interrupts you.

“No, I know,” he says, “but it’s not below my malty— I mean, mighty— I mean, moral standard. It jus’ makes me wish I was the guy.”

You take a sharp breath. What in the actual hell does that mean?

“That…you were the guy?” you ask, your voice careful. Sam opens his mouth a few times, always closing it again.

“I mean,” he finally replies, “I guess, yeah.”

“You mean the guy I’m flirting with?” you ask, wanting to be absolutely certain that you aren't misunderstanding anything.

“Yeah,” Sam confirms, throwing a shy look at your face, “that you were flirting with me instead. Touchin’ my hand on purpose and laughing at my stupid jokes and that, that thing you do with your eyes, where you, where you widen them a little and you lick your lips an’ you just—”

He stops suddenly, clearing his throat. “That.” He shrugs, looked away again. You feel like you have been struck by lightning.

“Sam,” you finally say. “You know that’s not how I actually flirt, right?” Sam’s eyes go up to your face again, not understanding.

“I mean,” you say, “that’s how I do it for these guys who already think they’re god’s gift to the world, who think I’m just some dumb girl who can’t wait to hear all the exciting bullshit they have to say.” Sam makes a grimace.

“But then…” he asks, needing to concentrate, “but then how do you really flirt?”

You can't help but bite your lip. Sam’s face is angled up at you, the low light from the other end of the room throwing gentle shadows across his beautiful features.

“Well,” you say, now feeling a little shy yourself. “I mean I’m not really a big flirt, but I guess if I liked a guy I would listen to what he says and care about what he thinks of what I do, and I would want to take care of him and bring him to bed when he’s being an idiot and gets drunk on his own.”

Sam breathes in slowly, looking at you unbelieving.

“Or,” you continue, too deep in it to stop now, “I might let him call me things like bossy and short, and secretly like it.” Sam winces.

“I’m sorry,” he says in a low voice.

“That’s okay,” you respond. “I am bossy. And compared to you, everyone’s short.” He grins a little at that. There are a few seconds of awkward silence.

“Did I embarrass myself really bad?” Sam finally asks, voice quiet. You shrug again.

“Not too bad. If you’re lucky, you won’t remember tomorrow.”

“I think,” Sam says, his voice a little more confident, “I think I will remember.”

“Oh, yeah?” you ask. “How so?” Now it's Sam’s turn to shrug.

“Cause I guess you were flirtin’ with me,” he says, “and I’ve been kinda imagining you doing that for a long time now.”  

“Have you now?” you ask in a low voice. Sam nods.

Then, before you know it, he's reaching for your hand with his. He finds it, hanging at your side, and gently squeezes it, making goosebumps break out all over your body.

“Can you do it again tomorrow?” he asks carefully. “Flirt with me?” A grin spreads over your face.

“Okay,” you say. “But there’s other ways to do it. You don’t have to get drunk again.” Sam chuckles.

“That’s good, because I don’t thin’ I would survive that.” You chuckle as well.

“Go to bed, Sam,” you say, your voice gentle.

“Okay,” Sam says.

Then he's leaning back, dropping himself on the mattress, and very ungainly scooching himself into a sideways position.

You pull the thin comforter from the foot of the bed, and lay it over him.

“Night, Sam,” you say and look at his face.

“Goodnight,” he responds, looking at yours. 

[prettygirl-gabi]

Title: Stirred & Sweet

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader

Rating: T (Teen)

Fandom: UConn Women’s Basketball

Word count: 3k+

Warning: Mild language, teasing from teammates, and an excessive amount of Dirty Shirleys.

Summary: being a bartender isn’t so bad after all

A/N: I got carried away and I didn’t want to do more than one part though… enjoy

🏷️: @yailtsv

There are slow nights at Ted’s, and then there are nights like this—where the place is packed shoulder to shoulder, the music is loud enough to shake the walls, and I’m pretty sure I’ll smell like grenadine for the next three days.

It’s my usual Friday night shift, and I’m behind the bar, flipping between orders faster than I can process them. But then, right in the middle of pouring a vodka soda, I hear a voice that’s unmistakable over the noise.

“Yo, can I get a Dirty Shirley?”

I don’t even have to look up. I already know.

Paige Bueckers.

Five-year UConn legend. Face of the program. Probably could get a drink for free just by flashing that stupidly perfect smile.

I glance up, and sure enough, she’s leaning against the bar, chin resting on her hand, watching me with that casual, slightly smug expression. Azzi, Ice, and the rest of the team are packed in behind her, laughing and teasing each other.

“Gotcha,” I say, grabbing a glass. “Coming right up.”

I make Dirty Shirleys all the time—it’s one of the easiest drinks in the book. But mine? Mine are the best. It’s not just about throwing Sprite, vodka, and grenadine into a cup. It’s about balance, ratios, the right kind of vodka, and just a little extra touch.

I slide the drink across the counter. “One Dirty Shirley, Bueckers. Hope it lives up to the hype.”

Paige takes a sip, and for a second, her expression is unreadable. Then, her eyes widen slightly, and she licks her lips like she’s trying to make sure she actually tasted what she thinks she did.

“Oh, hell no.” She looks at her teammates. “This is the best one I’ve had in five years.”

Azzi snorts. “You’ve had a lot of Dirty Shirleys, huh?”

“You don’t understand, Z.” Paige turns back to me. “How did you—what did you do?”

I grin, wiping my hands on a bar rag. “Trade secret.”

“No, for real. How are you this good at making drinks?”

I lean on the counter. “My dad owns a bar back home. He taught me everything. Ratios, ingredients, even flair bartending when I was like thirteen—don’t ask me why he thought that was a good idea. By the time I was seventeen, I could make drinks better than half the bartenders at his place.”

Paige shakes her head, impressed. “Damn. So I just got served a professional-level Dirty Shirley?”

“Something like that.” I smirk. “And now, the only way you’re getting one this good is if I make it myself.”

She raises a brow, a challenge in her eyes. “Bet.”

⸻

From that night on, Paige only orders Dirty Shirleys if I’m the one making them.

It turns into a thing.

She’ll walk into Ted’s, lock eyes with me across the bar, and hold up a finger—no words, just that stupidly charming smirk. And I already know. One Dirty Shirley, coming right up.

She hypes it up to the team, tells anyone who’ll listen that I make the best ones. She even gets a little dramatic about it sometimes.

“I refuse to drink a basic one now,” she tells me one night, sipping happily. “You’ve ruined them for me.”

“Oh no,” I deadpan. “Whatever will you do when I graduate?”

“Guess I’ll have to marry you, so you can make them for me forever.”

I choke on my laugh. “Paige.”

She just winks and takes another sip.

⸻

A few weeks later, it’s almost 2 AM when my phone buzzes.

I groan, rolling over, barely registering the name on my screen before answering.

“Paige,” I mumble. “Why are you calling me in the middle of the night?”

“Okay, don’t be mad,” she says, which means she’s about to say something ridiculous. “But I really want a Shirley Temple.”

I squint at my phone, confused. “Like… a non-alcoholic one?”

“Yes.”

I blink. “You called me at two in the morning for that?”

“You’re the only one who makes them right!” she whines. “Please? I’ll owe you forever.”

I sigh, already sitting up. “You better leave your door unlocked.”

⸻

When I get to her dorm, she’s waiting at the door, practically bouncing.

“You actually came,” she grins.

“You sounded desperate,” I tease, lifting the pitcher. “Figured it was my duty.”

She drags me inside, already pulling out cups. “You’re a lifesaver.”

We end up on the couch, sipping Shirley Temples and watching Friends. Somewhere between episodes, I stretch out, and Paige throws a blanket over both of us.

It’s late. Really late. But she’s warm next to me, and my eyes are getting heavier.

I wake up hours later to the sound of the TV playing softly, Paige’s head resting against my shoulder, and an almost-empty pitcher on the coffee table.

Not bad for a midnight call.

⸻

A week later, I’m back at work when Paige shows up again. But this time, she doesn’t ask for a Dirty Shirley.

“You’re trying something new tonight,” I tell her, already reaching for ingredients.

She looks skeptical. “You’re experimenting on me?”

“Yup.” I grin, setting up the glass. “I promise it’ll be good.”

She watches as I pour Seagram’s Ginger Ale, add two and a half shots of Don Julio, a shot of Tequila Silver, then grab an orange popsicle straight out of the freezer. I drop it in, stick and all, then drizzle in some strawberry syrup.

Paige raises a brow. “What the hell is this?”

“A masterpiece.” I slide it to her. “Try it.”

She takes a sip, then licks her lips slowly, processing the taste.

“Oh, that’s dangerous,” she murmurs.

“Told you.”

She takes another sip, eyes lighting up. “Okay, this is actually insane. What’s it called?”

I wipe down the counter. “I don’t know yet. You get to name it.”

She thinks for a second, then smirks. “Huskies Sunset.”

I laugh. “Why?”

“Because it looks like a sunset, and it’ll probably make you howl if you drink too much.”

I shake my head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“But you love it.” She grins, lifting her glass. “To Huskies Sunsets.”

And just like that, we’ve got a new favorite.

A few days later Paige send me a text

Paige: Yo, you working tonight?

Me: Yeah, why? You tryna bother me while I work again?

Paige: Maybe. Also… bring your best sales pitch.

I stare at my phone, confused, but before I can ask what she means, she sends another message.

Paige: Just trust me. You’ll thank me later.

I shake my head, pocket my phone, and head to Ted’s.

⸻

When I walk in, I immediately notice something weird.

My boss, Mike, is standing behind the bar—not working, just standing there, arms crossed, a deep-in-thought look on his face. And across from him, sitting on a stool like she owns the place, is Paige.

The moment she sees me, she waves. “Took you long enough.”

I set my bag down. “What’s going on?”

Mike looks at me, then at Paige, then back at me. “Your girl here has been talking my ear off about adding some drink to the menu.”

I blink. “Wait… what?”

Paige smirks. “Huskies Sunset. I told him it deserves a permanent spot.”

My jaw nearly drops. “Paige.”

She shrugs, all casual. “It’s a hit. I mean, I should know—I’ve had like five.”

Mike sighs, rubbing his temple. “Look, I’m not against it, but I don’t just put random drinks on the menu. It’s gotta sell.”

Paige leans forward. “It will sell. I promise you. Y/N makes the best drinks on campus, and this one is dangerous in the best way. People will eat it up.”

I can’t help but smile a little. She’s really going to bat for me.

Mike looks at me. “You got a name for this thing?”

I nod. “Huskies Sunset.”

He thinks for a moment, then sighs. “Fine. But it’s on a trial run. If it doesn’t sell, it’s out.”

Paige claps her hands. “Oh, it’ll sell. Just wait.”

⸻

Turns out, she wasn’t wrong.

The moment word gets out that there’s a Paige-approved drink on the menu, people start ordering it like crazy. It gets to a point where I can barely keep up—I’ve got orange popsicles flying, tequila pouring, and strawberry syrup everywhere.

And of course, the team eats it up.

Azzi is the first to tease me. “Wow, Paige gets one favorite bartender, and now she’s getting drinks added to the menu?”

Ice shakes her head. “Nah, this is next-level simp behavior.”

I roll my eyes. “She just likes the drink.”

Ayanna grins. “Just the drink? Y’all are literally always together.��

I scoff. “We are not.”

Paige, unbothered, sips her Huskies Sunset. “We kinda are.”

And that’s all it takes. The teasing gets worse.

Suddenly, everyone’s pointing out every little thing we do together—how we study at the same table in the library, how Paige randomly FaceTimes me while I’m at work, how we spend way too much time coming up with new drink ideas.

It doesn’t help that one night, she asks me to teach her how to bartend.

I try to play it cool, but the moment she steps behind the bar, sleeves rolled up, ready to learn? Yeah. I might be in trouble.

⸻

“Alright, Rookie,” I say, setting a bottle of tequila on the counter. “First lesson: pouring without spilling.”

Paige smirks. “Easy.”

It is not easy.

She tries to pour a shot, but the moment the liquid starts flowing, she panics, overcorrects, and half of it ends up on her hand.

I laugh. “Oh, yeah. Natural talent.”

She glares at me, shaking tequila off her fingers. “Okay, okay. Let me try again.”

She does better on the second attempt, actually filling the shot glass without a mess.

I nod approvingly. “Look at that. You’re learning.”

She grins. “Told you I could do it.”

I lean against the counter. “Alright, next test. Shaking a cocktail.”

I set up a simple drink and hand her the shaker. “Two hands, firm grip, shake hard but controlled.”

Paige takes it, mimicking my stance, and starts shaking. At first, she looks focused. But then, halfway through, the lid pops off.

Cue tequila flying everywhere.

I barely dodge it, while Paige gasps, looking at the mess.

“Oh, my God.” She stares at me. “Did I just—”

I burst out laughing. “You definitely just showered us in tequila.”

She winces. “Oops.”

I grab a rag, wiping my arms. “You’re lucky I like you.”

She smirks. “You like me?”

I freeze for half a second.

“…Shut up.”

⸻

The teasing from the team only gets worse after that.

Especially when they find out Paige has a new habit of calling me in the middle of the night.

KK: Ayo, why did I just hear that Y/N got up at 2 AM to bring Paige a Shirley Temple?

Ice: A Shirley. Temple. AT 2 IN THE MORNING?

Azzi: Just date already, my God.

Me: IT WAS JUST A DRINK.

Paige: I have high standards, what can I say?

Caroline adds a poll to the team’s group chat:

Will Y/N and Paige finally admit they’re basically together?

✔ Yes, they’re oblivious

✔ No, but they should be

✔ They’re already dating and just don’t know it yet

Paige just sends a single response.

Paige: Drink up, haters.

⸻

A few nights later, Paige shows up at the bar with an idea.

“So, we’ve got Huskies Sunset,” she says, sliding into her usual seat in front of me. “But we need something else. Something bigger.”

I raise a brow. “Bigger?”

She nods. “Like… a team drink.”

I pause, considering it. “A UConn team drink?”

“Yeah! Something for game nights. Something we can all order and make a thing.”

I grin. “Alright, Challenge Accepted.”

We spend the next few nights messing with ideas, trying out flavors, and (accidentally) getting a little buzzed in the process. Paige is surprisingly good at taste-testing—she knows exactly what she likes, and she’s weirdly good at pairing flavors.

Finally, we land on something.

Blue curaçao for the Huskies’ blue, lemonade for a crisp, refreshing taste, a splash of Sprite for bubbles, and a frozen lemon slice on the rim.

The Husky Huddle.

When we debut it, the team goes crazy.

“Oh, this is dangerous,” Azzi says after her first sip.

Aubrey nods. “Yeah, we’re gonna need this before every away game.”

Ice grins. “Okay, but y’all see what’s happening, right?”

Ayanna smirks. “Oh, we see it.”

Paige looks at me, all innocent. “See what?”

Azzi shakes her head. “Y’all are literally co-owners of the Ted’s bar menu at this point.”

Ice grins. “More like co-owners of each other.”

Paige chokes on her drink. I roll my eyes.

“Y’all are so annoying.”

Azzi just raises her glass. “To Huskies Sunsets, Husky Huddles, and to Paige and Y/N finally admitting they’re a thing.”

Paige and I exchange glances, then both sigh.

We clink our glasses together.

“To Huskies Sunsets,” I say.

“To the best bartender at UConn,” Paige adds, smirking.

⸻

Six Months Later

By now, Paige is a staple at Ted’s.

She still only orders Huskies Sunsets when I’m working. Still calls me in the middle of the night for Shirley Temples. Still shows up unannounced to drag me out for “taste-testing” sessions.

The team hasn’t let up on the teasing. If anything, it’s gotten worse.

KK: So, what’s the hold-up? Y’all married yet?

Ice: I give it another month before Paige breaks and asks Y/N out.

Azzi: One month? You’re generous. I say two weeks.

I just roll my eyes every time. Paige and I—we’re just us. We exist in this weird, perfect space where we know we like each other, but neither of us says it out loud.

Until the night she makes me a drink.

⸻

It’s a slow night, one of those rare ones where I’m not drowning in orders. Paige is at the bar, as usual, twirling a straw between her fingers like she’s debating something.

Then, out of nowhere, she stands up.

“Okay, switch places with me.”

I blink. “Huh?”

She jerks her head toward the bar. “I wanna make you a drink.”

I scoff. “Paige, last time you were back here, you covered yourself in tequila.”

She grins. “Yeah, but I’ve learned. Trust me.”

I hesitate, then sigh, stepping aside. “Alright, Rookie. Show me what you got.”

She cracks her knuckles, looking way too serious for someone making a cocktail.

She starts with a base of passionfruit juice, a splash of lime, then adds two shots of rum. But then, she does something unexpected—she grabs a bottle of peach liqueur and pours just a little in, followed by a drizzle of honey.

I raise an eyebrow. “That’s… an interesting mix.”

Paige winks. “Trust the process.”

She shakes it (without spilling this time) and pours it into a glass over crushed ice. Then, to top it off, she adds a small mint leaf and slides it across the counter.

I pick it up, skeptical, and take a sip.

And damn.

It’s smooth, a little sweet, a little tart, with just the right kick.

I look up at her, surprised. “Paige. This is actually good.”

She smirks. “I know.”

I take another sip, then tilt my head. “What’s it called?”

She leans on the counter, looking at me with that lazy grin of hers.

“Date Night.”

My heart does a full-on somersault.

I set the drink down carefully. “Paige.”

She shrugs, trying (and failing) to look casual. “So, what do you think? Wanna make it official?”

I stare at her for a long second, then grin. “Well, I do like the drink.”

She laughs, shaking her head. “That’s all I get? After six months of pining?”

I take another sip. “Mmm… maybe you should take me out on a real date and find out.”

She leans in, eyes bright. “Deal.”

⸻

Four Years Later

If you had told me back then that one day I’d own my own bar, I probably would’ve laughed in your face.

But here I am, standing behind the counter of Sundown, my very own place in Dallas, with a fresh-cut lime in one hand and my phone buzzing on the counter.

I glance at the screen.

Paige: You at the bar?

Me: Where else would I be?

Paige: Cool. I’m ten minutes away.

I shake my head, smiling to myself.

Some things never change.

⸻

When Paige walks in, the place is packed. It’s a Friday night, and everyone’s here for happy hour, but the moment she steps inside, a few heads turn.

She’s in a hoodie and joggers, looking effortlessly cool, like she didn’t just drop 25 points on the Mercury last night.

She slides into her usual seat at the bar, grinning at me. “What’s up, Superstar?”

I snort. “You’re the only superstar here.”

She taps the counter. “Debatable. Now, hit me with the usual.”

I shake my head, already reaching for the ingredients. “Still not tired of Huskies Sunsets?”

She grins. “Never.”

I make her drink, sliding it over with a flourish. She takes a slow sip, eyes locked on me the whole time.

Then, she sets the glass down and leans in, voice softer. “So… you excited for tomorrow?”

Tomorrow.

Our engagement party.

I glance down at the ring on my finger—the one Paige had slipped on my hand last year after surprising me with a proposal at Ted’s.

(She had tried to be all smooth, but her hands were shaking so bad she almost dropped the ring in my drink.)

I smile. “Excited? Yeah. A little nervous? Also yeah.”

Paige tilts her head. “Nervous why?”

I gesture around. “I don’t know… this bar, this life—it’s everything I wanted. And now we’re about to start a whole new chapter.”

She reaches across the bar, taking my hand in hers. “And that scares you?”

I shake my head. “No. It just… feels big.”

Paige squeezes my hand. “Well, for the record, I think we’re gonna be just fine.”

I look at her—the same Paige who used to drag me out of bed for late-night Shirley Temples, who spent hours behind the bar learning to mix drinks just so we could have an excuse to hang out longer.

The same Paige who, after all these years, still only orders Huskies Sunsets if I’m the one making them.

I squeeze her hand back. “Yeah. I think so too.”

She grins. “Good. Now, gimme another drink. And make it something new.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Something new?”

She nods. “Yeah. Something fresh. Something that screams ‘future wife of a WNBA star.’”

I laugh, already reaching for a bottle. “Alright, challenge accepted.”

And as I start mixing, Paige just sits there, watching me with that soft, lazy grin—the one that says she’d spend forever right here if I let her.

Good thing forever is exactly what we have.

---

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

                 -Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

                             -prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[stemmmm]

Billford fic recs!

I was asked a while ago (i believe by @kerink ?) when I shared a list of the currently active fics I was reading if I could do a broader rec list as well, so here it is! not a ton of oneshots since I didn't try to keep good track of fics until very recently. will likely update this over time!

there is ONE non-triangle bill in here, but what he is in that one is vague so maybe he could still be the triangle. schrodingers triangle.

Collections:

Valentines 3K challenge (all explicit)

you know it. you love it. if you haven't read all of them though, you're missing the fuck out

Stan Bros Coffee (G and explicit)

the espresso-Bill AU! there's a bunch of little fics about it and they're all in here!

Billford Egg Hunt 2025 (all explicit)

that man gets eggs laid in him

Oneshots: (most oneshot recs are in the collections)

Eternal Devotion - Illusions of the Heart (explicit)

have you ever read a horror story posing as a love story? are you interested in the most unhinged yet cohesive internal monologue ever crafted? do you wonder why keyhole suddenly became so prominent in the fandom out of nowhere? all of these and more await you in here. click the link-- i am a normal fanfic

touch and go (teen)

it's portal ford, baby! great exploration of what prolonged isolation does to people and has excellent bill being sweeties

Haha He Fucked That...Spider? (explicit)

again, portal ford! he's the master of getting himself in stupid situations, and bill is the master of getting him out of them in the ways ford appreciates the least

Hazing Ritual (mature)

Ford takes a hike in the woods in the middle of the night with his cock out and Bill comes to say hi

Longfics:

Theseus' Guide To Ruining A Perfectly Good Boat (mature) (complete in my heart bc i know what happens)

why are you still following me if you haven't read this yet. y'all know what this is

Then it becomes, it becomes, it becomes a problem (mature) (complete)

how bad do things have to get before bill finally chooses to cut his shit out? the answer may surprise you! during-betrayal fic where bill makes the ingenious decision to bring a third party into the mix as if that would solve anything. breathtaking prose, magnificent character work, and the best fucking bill cipher writing and analysis there is! SO funny, SO raw and emotional. Jan deserves to ascend to godhood at the cost of all of her family and friends. as a treat.

Creative Solution (unrated, but i'd call it mature) (complete)

what if bill erased ford's memories of the betrayal and weirdmageddon happened? touches on what it's like to be in a relationship where you're both deeply mentally ill and insecure in a way that really, truly hits me. absolute masterwork of digging through bill's fucked up psyche and the ways in which he Can and Will spiral forever AND BE SURE TO STICK AROUND FOR THE EPILOGUE: A VISIT TO THE PINES WHICH IS MY FAVORITE SHIT EVER!!! proving to your parents what a failure you are will always have good results! definitely break no-contact, only good things can happen!

Property of Bill Cipher (explicit) (good as complete)

pre-portal character exploration. the only fic i think ive ever seen that dares to say bill was doing extremely fucked up shit with ford the entire time before things went bad between them, it's just that after the betrayal, ford viewed it all in a different light. handles bill's obsession with the guy so nicely, does not shy away from the scary and unnerving in just the way i love it! it's incomplete, but the story is really just a series of vignettes leading up to and a little after the betrayal, so we all know how this is all going to end anyways. this one is formative billford for me

Multiversal Manhunt Moved to Your Backyard (explicit, but only the final chapter) (complete)

set during weirdmageddon, bill and ford make a deal to play a game of sexy scary hide and seek. it's so fun to root for the villain. this author has an amazing grasp on the character voices and tone, this is SUCH a delightful read and despite knowing exactly how it's gonna end, the tension still keeps you at the edge of your seat!

On the Level (mature) (incomplete)

marine biology AU where ford is a researcher on a deep sea base and bill is some sort of eldritch horror at the bottom of the sea. writing is lovely and it's really got the slow, ominous horror vibe down pat. it's tagged for Alien(1979) references so i'm personally waiting for bill to violently murder all of these people <3 also this is the non-triangle fic i was referring to

Take A Chance (explicit) (incomplete)

handyman bill thats very focused on how poorly bill and ford are able to communicate with each other, and boy, theyre bad at it. lots of cute family shenanigans and overall a very lighthearted read!

Dream Operator (mature) (incomplete)

post canon billford my beloved. Bill is trapped in the Theraprism, Ford is off doing his boat adventures with his brother, yet neither of them get the other out of their dreams. Literally. goofy dream shenanigans abound!

tear flesh from my skeleton just to feel something genuine (rated teen, it is NOT teen) (incomplete)

VIVISECTIONNNNNNNNNN!!!!!!!!!!!!

It’s Better Than Sex! It’s Vivisection! (mature) (complete)

ONE FUCKING GUESSSSS!!!!!!!!!!

Impossible Geometries and Biologies (explicit) (complete)

pregnant bill fic that i have some Opinions about but it gets to stay because I like the speculative bio they do just that much

[fafodill]

The exact wording of the ask I got was: 'what if someone was asking deprived!Snape (read my whole essay about him) to "break them off a piece of that KitKat bar?" How would they go about it?'

So today we're going to discuss this. Buckle up people.✨

SO his reaction will largely depend on the context and their current relationship but one thing that will happen FOR SURE every time before anything else is that he's going to think they're messing with him.

What else could it be? This man had been so heavily bullied as a teen his self-esteem is buried and has its own tombstone.

"Here lies Snape's self-image. Spit to pay your respect."

We don't have any canon proof of it happening but many people headcanon that some of the bullying might have been people being dared to come up to him and fake attraction or compliment him (so funny omg) only for him to realize they were just messing with him. It's totally the kind of immature stupid shit kids will come up with (speaking from personal experience here). Not funny but deeply scarring for one's self-image. So being told he's attractive would trigger him in his adult life. Any potential suitor asking him out would be welcomed with him immediately closing up and getting angry at them. They'd need to find a way for him to believe them first.

If you're thinking "this already sounds like a pain", yes it is. Welcome to deprived!Snape. Welcome to Snape, basically. If they want a piece of him, they have to brace themselves for the long run.

He will get angry and leave a lot. Fleeing the situation - since it's a very vulnerable subject for him - will be his go-to move. The whole ordeal will require patience. So what should this person do?

Friend or Stranger?

If it comes from a DE he'll think it's an angle. If it's from a member of the Order, he'll think it's a joke. If it's from a colleague at Hogwarts, he maaaay be a tad less suspicious? In any case, it will depend on how close they are. The more time they have spent together, the closer he'll be to not flip out... too much.

I'm a bit torn about his reaction if it was coming from a stranger. Either it's easier because he can lean into the idea that maybe they're lying about their attraction and he doesn't care (and if he's horny then why the fuck not, it won't affect him as much since they both now they're here for physical release) OR he might not be into it at all because he actually needs a real connection (and I think this is more realistic). Severus is a feral cat, he needs time to trust people.

What else? He could also maybe open up faster with someone not from his usual inner circles (a foreigner or a muggle) as the interactions wouldn't be charged with the same deep-rooted habits and expectations.

I also believe he'd unconsciously feel way more at ease with someone coming from a modest background. A pureblood aristocrat hitting on him would have little chance of getting past his natural distrust of them (unless he knows them very well).

So what should they do?

Build trust

The quality of their interactions and conversations will have a huge impact. Do they have an interesting personality? He needs someone capable of taking him on and keeping up intellectually. Can they keep up with him and challenge him?

Severus has a temper. Can they deal with his bullshit and not give up on him at the first scowl? Argue with him? It doesn't mean they can't be nice, but I don't see him get worked up over someone cowering under his gaze.

They need to be stubborn. He's a Capricorn and he's got the horns. He's hard-headed. They need to not back down when he bites or dismisses their attempts at flirting. One of Severus's classic tactic is to hurt people so they leave him alone, so they need to be able to dodge the attack, make fun of him or retaliate.

If they manage to deal with his temper, they will start to see what's on the other side of the snarky exterior. Then, they'll be able to start kneading the dough (Severus is the dough).

Convince him the attraction is real

That person could go the gentle/honest way, assuring him they're not kidding and explaining what they find attractive about him (he'd be super wary and need days to digest it - if he can). Genuine compliments could work quite well as he's good at reading people but it would be a process and it shouldn't be too much at once. He's NOT USED to compliments so if the person goes too hard, he's going to get overwhelmed, distance himself and reject it. A good trick would be to compliment his intelligence and magical skills alongside physical traits. A 2/3-1/3 ratio would be a good start. He would trust compliments about his big brain way more than anything regarding his cute butt.

Complimenting his presence, aura, voice might be good too as it's not directly related to physical traits. Else, physical starters could include hands and eyes. But I also love the idea of taking him by surprise and complimenting his nose. Might weird him out in a good way.

Or they could go the blunt way (or what I now refer to in my mind as the @maxdibert way) and be like "dude, I really think you're hot, deal with it" and leave him to sort his feelings out like a big boy.

The two strategies can be mixed of course. But at the end of the day, the real problem is that Severus as approximately a thousand confirmation bias in his mind telling him this is not happening. So what could they do to help ease this process?

Make him horny

Less overthinking = more chances to get this piece of ass.

Severus Snape needs to be warmed up. And as stated in my previous essay, he's plagued with the core beliefs that he's ugly, ridicule and undeserving. These beliefs need to be kneaded and challenged enough (not healed, this would take decades and it's not their job), so that he can relax and open up to the idea of intimacy.

Here are a few strategies to do so.

First, de-dramatize the subject. Making the topic less taboo by talking about it in a lighthearted way (no flaunting! certainly not!). A good move would be to joke about it. Deprived!Snape isn't comfortable with the subject but it's because it's evaded him and then he convinced himself he wasn't concerned or interested.

-> Here are some of the things he could benefit from hearing: that sex is not a big deal at all and we can laugh about it. It should be fun, a shared moment, trials and errors are part of it and there should no be judgment about experiences and preferences. People with a high 'body count' aren't necessarily good lovers, it's all about presence and intent etc.

His potential partner could share funny mishaps that happened to them and - when there's an opening - ask him what he would expect from a pleasant intimate moment (that's a very advanced move, don't forget he's bad with words)(it would only work in my opinion if they're both drunk and have been going at it for a while).

Also sharing experiences is a great way to build trust and intimacy (and arousal). He thrives on knowledge so learning more about his potential partner might ease his mind in some way (and give him some free intrusive thoughts). See it as added ingredients to make him simmer.

Though they shouldn't talk too much about the number of partners they had and said partner's skills. This might make him retreat. Again: low self-esteem and always on the lookout for an excuse to sabotage it.

Wait what about drunk!Snape you say? That's a trope we enjoy around here. Although I headcanon him as not being a heavy drinker (if a drinker at all because of his father) it would be a great way to lower a bit his inhibition. A DE would have a hard time sharing a drink with him, same for an Order member (he never stays after meetings but could be coerced), but a colleague could maybe drag him to the Three Broomsticks with other members of the staff and then leave early with him. wink wink Come on, rub his foot under the table and look at him choke on his ale. He'll skin you alive with his eyes and you can just raise a suggestive eyebrow back.

Persistence, persistence.

Of course a bit of physical baiting could help with his dusty libido. After all, they'd kinda be dealing with an teenager, experience-wise. Nothing too bold (though I headcanon that his sooty Cokeworth self would get way more worked up over unabashed desire than delicate courting but he's buried a bit too deep at the moment) but a nice cleavage, some leg showing, a fitting pair of pants or robes might not be a bad move. Since he might be uncomfortable with words, they could flaunt the goods in his face! The man has eyes, let him look and scold himself for looking. Also a few heavy looks, biting a lip and lingering fingers could go a long way for such a deprived man, especially if it's directed at him.

At the end of the day, the trick is to make him able to put his worry aside (or snap, if you find the word sexier).

They could go the provocative way, being insufferable and making him want to shut them up.

They could try some endless teasing until he's a lost hot mess, unable to express what he wants except by going 'fuck it' and going for it.

They could go slower and create a safe space with a weekly ritual (every Friday night meeting for a drink/to grade essays/to hang out) which can lead to a late night snog (floating candles optional).

They could be blunt and go 'I want to kiss you so bad right now' as they leave Hogsmeade together and are walking on the dirt path towards the castle. A gust of wind will prevent him from hiding himself behind his hair and they'll see the flush creeping on his face.

They could hammer the compliments and validation, because Severus craves recognition (is there a praise kink in there? yes). So first it could be his mind, his work, his skills... then the way his cape suits his frame so well, his silky voice... and then bam, hitting the nail on the head with complimenting his mouth. Blabbering mess guaranteed. Might flee but blush deliciously. Or might stop dead in his track and then it's time for them to claim these lips.

Kissing

Clumsy. Tentative. Awkward.

But earnest.

He might freeze at first. Wait, these lips knew how to do that once upon a time... how does it go again? He'll need a bit of time to remember but the best way to (re)learn is practice.

It will be a lot for him. As he's extremely touch-deprived he'd be literally rediscovering human contact. So much to feel, the supple of the lips, their shape, the softness, the wetness.

Honestly, deprived!Snape could get really worked up just from kissing.

(They could honestly make him cum just from this and some grinding. Amen. If he does he'd need reassurance after and still might flee and hide and snarl for a few days because male performance blahblahblah. Hopefully they'd be able to skip this step at this point in the relation.)

But I believe he'd enjoy it greatly and this might be a step he'd want to stay at for some time before going further.

Undressing

I headcanon deprived!Snape as being very self-conscious about revealing his body so it might only be possible with someone he really trusts. It might be painfully difficult for him (might require dimmed light if not obscurity but I mean come on, they're here to look at him and it'd be better for him to rip the bandaid... but giving him the option might help).

Either he'll be too aroused to care (or act as if he doesn't) or he'll feel very self-conscious and look for cues to confirm his belief that his partner will find him disgusting. It's the right moment for them to express their desire.

If for some reason he gets too triggered and leave, they wouldn't be back to square one but again, patience is key. He needs time. Or maybe they could convince him to stay and try to resolve the situation by stopping the intimacy and just talk about something else. It could be good practice to show him this isn't a big deal and that everything is fine.

But at this stage, complimenting him sincerely (no coddling) whilst not hiding their arousal could work nicely. Sprinkling some of the fantasies they had about him as well. ('I've been dreaming about these hands on me', 'You have no idea how much I've been wanting to kiss these lips to make you shut up', 'I laid awake at night thinking about touching this part of you'). Showing appreciation with touch could convince him more though and it has the advantage of preventing him to think too much.

But really, he won't like to focus on his appearance as it's something he has no control over so they should -unfortunately- bite their tongue and keep the flood of horny compliments to themselves at first. A new one might be fed to him once every two weeks to slowly build his confidence.

In Bed

Deprived!Snape is: prideful, yearning for control and very sensitive.

Now honestly I could make a whole other post with the different scenarios where he'd be more top or bottom. Instead, I will focus more on what would happen either way.

He'll want to learn. Because Severus is nothing if not a scholar. He's got a very curious nature regarding topics that interest him so if his partner is showing him how they like something, he'll get super serious about it. He will try to touch them in the exact same way at first and he's a fast learner so once it's mastered, he'll experiment. And he's going to be good at it.

That man got dexterity and an inventive mind. And that's canon.

But his focus on his partner might also be a way to keep control during this highly new situation. Depending on how self-conscious he is about his inexperience, shifting the focus on him might be a challenge. Maybe letting him take the lead could be a good idea. But maybe shoving him against the mattress and seizing control is the way to go here.

Now, he will be very sensitive, won't he?

Yes, he might. He might be a whimpering mess in no time. His partner should be cautious and gentle with him. Severus letting his guard down and letting them touch him is a very big effort coming from him so they should savor it and be sure to make it feel safe if they want this to happen again. Help him relax, let him breathe, don't hesitate to pause if he gets nervous. The walls will be destroyed, moan after moan.

But what if he isn't sensitive?

That's a possibility as well. He's been by himself for years and his wariness of intimacy and people is wired in his cells at this point. He's disconnected from his own body and never pays attention to it. He might also tense heavily once in bed with his partner, the vulnerability of it accentuating the disconnection. He might not feel pleasure, might get frustrated and feel angry or inadequate.

This situation - which I find very interesting and seems like a realistic follow-up to him wanting to kiss for a long time and struggling with undressing - is tricky and will require diplomacy and more patience.

But maybe this could be a dealbreaker for him. If the payoff isn't worth the discomfort, he could easily take it as a confirmation bias that intimacy isn't for the likes of him. The best course of action could be to focus on non-sexual aspect of intimacy.

But this essay is way too long already so I'm going to stop here.

What should I write about next? Is there something you wish I had addressed here? Is there something you'd like me to discuss next?

UPDATE: so a few people seem to be mad at me, demanding I keep on elaborating SO. Let's say I'm done here for the 'how to bed him' part (which was the premise of this essay) and I'll do another one following thoughts and possibly... focusing on the different roles in bed (top/bottom/switch) for our dear Severus. See you there.

TLDR: He's gonna be a pain, his partner needs to have calming draught for their nerves but in the end it will be very rewarding because he's starved and inventive.

[utilitycaster]

Sorry if you've answered this kind of question before, but yesterday's ask about the villains made me think about the opposite: what kind of story do you think Bells Hells could have worked well in, the way they are? With their complete disinterest about the world I struggle to imagine them working in anything but a monster of the week kind of format where things are just kind of thrown at you...

Hey anon,

This is a fantastic question because it gets to the crux of something I don't know if I've properly articulated and honestly might not have the right words for so if any of my mutuals who have a greater degree of expertise in narratology/storycraft than I do want to mark this up with red pen, go nuts.

The way I approach characters in stories is not just who they are initially; but who they become through the process of the narrative in which they find themselves. I'm not immune to a first impression! I repeatedly find myself initially drawn to more driven, serious, emotionally closed off, genuinely good but kind of a bitch about it characters; and dismissing the ones I see as chaos gremlins, and then having to recant myself if/when the chaos gremlins show more depth through their actions. I rarely find myself drawn to a character like Nott or Fiedra (to use a couple recent examples) from the start; both won me over utterly. This isn't always the case! Sometimes they don't win me over! But my point is that I think most people have archetypes they immediately latch onto and are comfortable with and even might ultimately prefer through the course of the story (and I am no exception), but character and story are inherently intertwined with each other. It's essentially nature vs. nurture but for narrative.

So: a big part of the problem is that Bells Hells were given a story that failed to challenge them in such a way that they would grow into it. They were told what to do and infodumped at and their own motivations often wrapped up remarkably early in the narrative with little effort on their part so that we could get to the Moon Plot, and then suddenly the bottom dropped out and they were suddenly supposed to do a bunch of vitally important quests with relatively little guidance or oversight, and like many a sheltered teen going 1000 miles away for college, they did not respond well. Unfortunately, instead of taking the "well fuck it I'm going to do jaegerbombs and see what happens" route they went the "I'm going to beg whoever I see as an authority for answers while also resenting them for not giving me the answers I wanted or worse, suggesting I try to come up with my own" route.

I think had Bells Hells had an introduction rather more like the Mighty Nein's or what we know of Vox Machina's, they'd have become people who could make those decisions! Because the thing is, both those parties kind of did have a Monster of the Week format early on because that's a really normal way to start a campaign! If they'd spent their lower levels having to reluctantly work together without any benefactors and take watch in a hostile environment and take on weird jobs for money, I can't guarantee that they would have become decisive and self-motivated and interested in the world around them, but I think it would have been much, much more likely! No one was particularly intelligent, but to give an example, Imogen did have a lot of interest in finding out about her powers! A narrative in which that was not a "we have to give her the answer in the first 50 episodes so we can get to the moon plot" but rather a slow burn that required seeking out knowledge and following threads throughout the campaign would have meant regular trips to libraries or archaeological dig sites or academic institution, and that could have served as an ongoing motivator and as a means for other characters to learn more about the world while Imogen was reading about her magic. But because those avenues were largely closed off after the beginning of the campaign and the answer given at like, the 40% mark, there was no opportunity for her to grow or change or develop other interests.

There's a reason why the classic D&D setup is "you meet in a tavern, you take weird jobs on the job board, and you eventually fight god" and not "you meet in a tavern, you have a series of benefactors, you resolve 90% of your backstories in the first 40 episodes, and then the BBEG happens" and it's because taking weird jobs on the job board is what turns you from "only fit for Monster of the Week plot" to "a group of people who can make complicated decisions and who have a deep interest in the world." The only reliable way I've seen to get around this is by explicitly telling your players "This is the basic premise of the story I want to tell, so I need you to play curious and decisive people from the jump." Disliking the odd jobs route of an early campaign but wanting a complex ending is like wanting to run a marathon but refusing to train for it.

I've been trying to focus my critique of Campaign 3 on the campaign itself and not its fans at this point but I think this is relevant: I find a lot of fans are not really that happy with much of what happened, but are big fans of Bells Hells as people (to the point of treating them with more personhood than their detractors). This has led to some statements I can only describe as wildly stupid and in bad faith in which they seem oddly incapable of processing the idea that one's opinion on a character can - and should! - change over the course of the story based on that character's actions; whenever I and others were like "hmm, I don't like the turn Ashton is taking" it was interpreted as some kind of Rapid Onset Bigotry That Exclusively Applies to Ashton And Not FCG (or Dairon, or Yudala, or FRIDA, or like, any other nb characters) or (hilariously given what I just said) inconsistency and not "if you used to like someone and then they said something really shitty, you might not like them any more". And the thing is, that is the problem of Campaign 3 in a nutshell, even without the fandom - Bells Hells seemed to be simultaneously terrified of seeming like bad people and also all too willing to be self-absorbed and inconsiderate, and most crucially never seemed to realize that stasis and indecision are themselves horrible qualities that many people dislike. Bells Hells as the characters who showed up in Campaign 3 episode 1 were not doomed to be the people they became; the narrative (and obviously the player choices) led them into that. I do not, after 121 episodes, give points for lost potential; but a different campaign from the start might have actually brought out that potential and made them into characters who could be the focus of a good story.