#griddle pops

[parttime-creative]

WE DO BONES, MOTHERFUCKER!

Long haired Gideon Nav (so far).

I'll need a Harrowhawk for a shooting 👀

Don't mind, the ninth. She's just watching you spar.

Gideon must look so damb creepy in Canaan house, especially since she's not talking to anyone most of the time!

[liesmyth]

@ all the people in my Ianthe Defence Post saying that Ianthe was right to save John in HtN. First of all, you are absolutely correct. She was right.

Second: thank you all for reminding me that Ianthe saving John is even a thing that’s supposed to be controversial. I genuinely keep forgetting because she was so right to do it. It's not even a blip on my Ianthe Apologism radar because it’s just not a thing she should apologize for. Like, oh no, she kept alive the funniest character in the cast, whose death would have turned off the fucking sun! Give that girl a fucking medal.

(And a shiny new princely title, which she got. As she deserves) 

[icewindandboringhorror]

random life photos from the past few months

[lastflowerofyourhouse]

oh oh hey wait!!

so obviously our hint that something is Up with gideon's physical resilience after the avulsion trial is the revelation that palamedes calculated that it would cause permanent brain damage to the cavalier and gideon is. um. very much not permanently brain damaged.

but it just occurred to me. this post. this post right here.

cytherea didn't accurately convey to them how dangerous the field was. which means she probably didn't mean for harrow to succeed.

and. um.

"Sextus has seen this?"

"I asked him first," said Dulcinea, "And when i told him the method, he said he'd never do it. I thought that was fascinating. I'd love to get to know him better."

...

"So technically," said Harrow, acid as a battery, "We're your third choice."

"Well, Abigail Pent was a very talented spirit magician," said Dulcinea, and relented when she saw Harrow's expression. "I'm sorry! I'm teasing. No, I don't think I would've asked the Eighth House, Reverend Daughter...They could have done this with ease...Maybe that's why."

the sixth, voted most likely to figure out what she's doing, after abigail pent, already deceased. and the ninth, who have nothing whatsoever to do with spirit magic, but who have been establishing themselves as strong competitors and fraternizing with the sixth.

but not the eighth, the ones most likely to successfully complete the trial. because they're the most likely to successfully complete the trial.

yeah, cytherea fully intended to kill them both here, i think. she wanted them to die. come to think of it, that's the only real reason for her to be participating in the labs in the first place considering she's. ya know. already a lyctor.

and.

"Good girl," the voice was saying. "Oh, good girl. She's got it, Gideon! And I've got you...Gideon of the golden eyes. I'm so sorry. This is all my fault... I'm so sorry. Stay with me," the voice said, more urgently. "Stay with me."

that's remorse, i think. that's a genuine moment of humanity peaking through. that's oh god, what have i done.

Gideon was suddenly aware that she was very cold. Something changed. It was getting harder to suck in each breath...Now Gideon was scared. Her body had the soft, drunken feeling you got just before fainting away, and it was very hard to stay conscious. Three seconds before you die, Palamedes had calculated...It felt like all the pressure in her ears was popping loose...When her eyes opened Gideon was distantly worried to discover that she was blind...The air stopped coming. It would have been peaceful, only it sucked..."Ha-ha," said Gideon. "First time you didn't call me Griddle," and died.

no, yeah, i think she did, actually. I am 99% sure that gideon capital-D Died here.

i wonder what cytherea made of her immediately opening her eyes again.

[ablogcalledrevenge]

Breakfast Surprise

@steddiemicrofic prompt: birthday // WC: 529 // Rated G

For the amazing @steddieas-shegoes! Happy Birthday! This is only my second fic in the fandom but the prompt inspired me and I was bored at work, so here you go! I hope you like it!

He wakes up to the sound of Britney Spears, which all things considered, is not how he wants to wake up on his birthday. But then again, there was a time when Eddie didn’t think he’d reach his 21st birthday, let alone his 33rd. So he can deal with the Princess of Pop.

But that does raise the question; who is playing music this morning? The obvious answer is Steve, because duh, who else? But since it is Eddie’s birthday and since Steve did say he had a surprise, Eddie is inclined to act like a detective and give in to the silliness. He gets up out of bed, his hip twinging a little like it does on colder mornings, and makes his way towards the kitchen. The sound of Britney gets a little louder, as does the sound of talking and laughing. The visual he gets when he finally reaches the doorway of the kitchen makes him wish for a camera.

Steve is pouring pancake batter onto the griddle, glasses on and yellow pajama pants low on his hips. Livy is standing on a stepstool, dropping chocolate chips onto each pancake, her small hands dropping each one with intense concentration. She’s got her Cookie Monster nightgown on, the little ruffles swaying as she dances to the song playing. The morning sun is coming in through the window, bringing out the blonde in their hair, and the rays of light draw Eddie’s eyes towards an empty coffee mug on the table, with Robin’s usual lipstick stain. While he’d love her to be here too, Eddie knows she had to go in early for work.

Steve and Livy still haven’t noticed him, content to sing slightly off key and flip pancakes. He’s about to say something, maybe ask where-

“You’re supposed to be in bed.” A little voice pipes up behind him, causing Eddie to jump.

“Holy shi-sh-shhh! You scared me.” He flounders, looking down at Ellie who looks far too exasperated for her tender age of 4. It’s frankly adorable and the way Eddie’s heart expands at the sight of her scrunched up face honestly makes him worry a little. His heart’s been through a lot, could it handle the stress? Ellie reaches for his hand and pulls him fully into the kitchen.

“Daddy spoiled his surprise. He got out of bed.” She announces to the room. Livy jumps down from her stool and runs towards Eddie, extending her arms up. He gladly grabs her and spins them around, peppering her face with kisses.

“I couldn’t help it! I smelled breakfast cooking and knew I had to investigate!” He laughs as Steve sets the table with breakfast. Ellie pulls out a chair, standing on the seat to raise herself higher. Steve picks her up to make it even. The girls are very concerned with things being even right now, so both men would rather go along with it than cause a fight.

“Happy Birthday Eddie.” Steve says quietly, leaning over to give him a soft kiss. The girls in turn each kiss Eddie’s cheeks and Eddie can’t think of a better breakfast, a better morning, a better birthday.

[xzerosparrowx]

The Guitar

Written for the @corrodedcoffinfest

Divider by @saradika-graphics

Day #1 - Prompt: Firsts | Word Count: 861 | Rating: T | CW: Use of homophobic language/slurs | POV: Eddie | Tags: How Eddie Munson got his first guitar, Wayne Munson is Eddie's Dad, Allen Munson, First Christmas, Christmas special.

Eddie lays awake in bed, watching the weak winter morning sun cast its light across the unfamiliar room with tired eyes. He blinks back hot tears as he feels the chill around his ears, remembering the way Allen Munson pulled at his hair, the sound of the electric razor buzzing against his skin. 

Now he was here in his Uncle's trailer, a man he barely knows aside from the few times Al complained about him over the phone. 

“... Says I should stop stealing cars and get a proper job. Wayne doesn't fucking get it, man.”

“Why does he wanna look after that little queer?”

“... Just because he's got no kids, he wants to steal mine.” 

A soft little knock startles him, the shuffle of feet near his door. “Eddie, you awake?” Wayne calls out quietly, a nervous waver in his voice.

“Yea-yes, sir,” Eddie answers, sitting up but not making a move towards the door.

“I'm not- you don't have to call me that, Eddie. You can just call me Wayne,” Eddie hears him sigh, “I'm thinking of making pancakes or waffles, not sure which one you prefer. If you like something more savory for breakfast, I bought eggs and bacon as well.” Wayne rambles, and there is something sad and warm in Eddie’s chest, an old ache that he had now long been accustomed to that Wayne had stumbled upon and brought into sharp focus.

“I-I’m happy with whatever si- Uncle Wayne,” Eddie answers finally, getting up from bed and pulling on a pair of old sweats and a baby blue threadbare sweater. It’s large on his thin frame, a hand-me-down from Wayne, warm and comfortable. 

He hears his Uncle move away from the door and Eddie gathers his courage to step out of the room. A kaleidoscope of twinkling fairy lights meet him, the trailer lit in a beautiful array of colour and tinsel.

Oh yeah, it’s Christmas.

Wayne is standing in the kitchen, pouring a ladle of pancake mix on the hot griddle. Eddie rubs his eyes, forcing the tears away before standing near Wayne and watching him cook. 

“You know how to make pancakes?” his uncle asks, expertly flipping a pancake. Eddie shakes his head, the only time he ever got breakfast was if Al left him money for groceries, which was not often.   

Wayne pours another ladle in response, before handing the spatula to Eddie, “all you have to do is wait for the bubbles to show up. Once they pop, they’re ready to be flipped. See?” He says, pointing to the little bubbles in the pancake. 

Guided by Wayne, Eddie flips the pancake his uncle beaming down at him when it lands perfectly on it’s uncooked side, “I think we have Julia Childs in the trailer!” Wayne laughs and Eddie cannot help but join him, rolling his eyes good naturedly at his uncle. They continue like that, Wayne ladling the perfect amount of batter on to the griddle and Eddie flipping them with varying degrees of success. 

It’s the first time, since Eddie moved to the trailer a week ago, that living here feels normal. To realise that maybe Wayne is nothing like Al at all. They eat the pancakes in companionable silence, Eddie drowning his in maple syrup while Wayne sprinkles icing sugar and lemon.

“I have a present for you, go sit on the couch,” Wayne says, pushing his plate away and getting up before Eddie can think to protest. Eddie does as he’s told, feeling awkward and unsure again as he listens to Wayne move stuff around. 

“Alright, close your eyes!” Wayne calls and Eddie closes them, he fidgets with his hands, rubs his thumb over his fingers in a soothing back-and-forth. He hears Wayne place something on the coffee table and opens his eyes when Wayne gives him the ok. 

Oh.

Eddie stares at the old, black acoustic guitar in front of him, lovingly stored in its case. There are scratch marks here and there, the leather strap flaking in places, but it gleams under the lights as if it knows that it is a well-used and treasured thing. 

“I’m sorry it’s not a new guitar, but I don’t really use this old girl anymore, so I thought maybe I’ll hand her down to you,” Wayne offers sheepishly, wringing his hands nervously, thumb over his fingers. 

“How- How did you know I wanted one?”

“I remember hearing you ask Al for one,” Wayne says this like it’s natural that he would remember something so small about Eddie, and Eddie breathes through that sad and warm ache in his chest. 

“That was two years ago, Uncle Wayne,” he manages to choke out, he can feel his throat starting to thicken, tears beginning to well up and he watches his uncle trying to fight off his own emotions. 

“Well, you’re a good kid. You deserve something that’s just for you.”

His uncle's arms are strong and comforting when Eddie leaps towards him in a tight hug. Eddie does not remember the last time Al hugged him, but if he closes his eyes he can almost pretend that Wayne had always been his Dad. 

[birinboom]

Lazy Summer Morning

Umemiya Hajime x Reader

Self-indulgent, domestic fluff, established relationship, pet names (sweet cheeks), aged up characters 🌸 870 words

It’s early morning. The sun is only just peeking over the neighbor’s roof, casting its watery light into your kitchen. A mist hangs low over the garden, swirling lazily between the raised vegetable beds. The windows are open wide in the hopes of catching a cool breeze before the summer heat becomes unbearable. Birds are singing in the trees, their song mixing with Hajime’s off-key humming as he stands in front of the stove, hotcakes sizzling on the griddle.

You’ve got coffee brewing, and now you’re busying yourself with anything you can think of, cleaning up the few dishes forgotten the night before, straightening the blanket on the couch which your cat pulled down and turned into a rumpled nest, anything you can think of to pass the time. Your gaze passes the two small bowls of fresh fruit on the counter and your stomach growls impatiently.

Almost as if on cue, Hajime appears behind you.

“Here!” he grins, holding out a fork, a piece of one finished hotcake skewered on it. “Lemme know how they are.”

Judging from the crumbs around his lips, he knows exactly how they are. Still, if you can get to taste one early, you won’t complain.

You open your mouth, waiting. Hajime’s smile softens, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He brings the fork closer.

“Careful, it’s hot.”

You briefly blow on the hotcake before closing your lips around the fork. Pulling away, you start chewing, letting out a hum of pleasure as the taste washes over your tongue.

“It’s so fluffy! But not sweet enough.”

Hajime beams at you. “That’s what the syrup is for. Can’t have it be too sweet.” Leaning in to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth, he adds, “Not like you, sweet cheeks.”

His lips leave a sweet, sticky residue behind as he returns to the kitchen. What else has he been sampling, you wonder, licking at your lips.

“How much longer?” you ask, following him.

“Couple of minutes, why?”

You slip your feet into a pair of sandals. “I’m gonna refill the bird feeders real quick.”

Opening the hallway closet, you pick up the bag of seeds and dried fruit. It’s not really, truly necessary to feed the birds at this time of year. But a few still show up to the feeders, so you continue to feed them. And you like to think that feeding them in the summer makes them return in the winter, adding a few much needed pops of color to the garden.

Bag nestled in the crook of your arm, you slip out the kitchen door, past the grill you bought Hajime as an anniversary gift. He’s been using it every weekend since then, often inviting friends and family over for dinner. It’s been one of the busier summers you’ve had, but it’s been a blast so far.

You turn to look at him through the open kitchen window. His back is towards you, one hand on his hip as he flips a hotcake. He’s switched to whistling, you realize. A smile crosses your face. How did you ever get so lucky?

You’re standing at the sink, rinsing the last few soap suds off the metal. Hajime, done drying the dishes, comes up behind you, strong arms encircling your waist. He’s slung the wet dish towel over his shoulder. You can feel the water seeping into your shirt as he presses against your back. 

“That’s wet!” you laugh.

He pulls the towel off his shoulder, flinging it onto the counter, before leaning against your back once more, chin coming down to rest on your shoulder.

“Better?” he asks.

“Still wet,” you reply, rinsing your hands. “But better, yeah.”

Hajime presses his nose into your neck, inhaling deeply. “I’ve missed these lazy mornings.”

“Me too,” you say, looking out at the serene garden. There’s always so much to do between jobs, commute, and chores. But not today. You deep cleaned and did laundry yesterday. The fridge is reasonably full. No pressing errands to run. Even the garden has been mostly dealt with, the weeds pulled recently. Watering has to wait until after sunset. You need to harvest some veggies for dinner, but that’s still hours away.

“What do you want to do today?” you ask. 

Hajime chuckles lightly. “Nap in the hammock, maybe? I’m fine with anything as long as I’m with you.” Then he hugs you closer to him. “I love you, y’know,” he mumbles into your ear.

You can’t help but smile as you turn. Hearing him say those three words still makes your heart skip a beat.

“Oh wow!” you laugh, turning to face him, your arms coming up to rest around his neck. “I had no idea you felt that way!”

Pale eyebrows briefly rise in mock surprise before Hajime’s face splits into that bright, boyish smile that made you fall for him all those years ago. He knows how weak it makes you a little too well. 

“No? I never told you? Not even on our wedding day? Shame on me!” Leaning in to rest his forehead against yours, his smile softening, he adds, “Guess I’d better make sure you’ll never forget.”

Then he kisses you.

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, comments, reblogs, and asks (on and off anon) are always greatly appreciated! If you like, you can check out my other works here. Love, Em 💖

[viking-raider]

Salt in Our Wounds - CHAPTER IV

Summary-> Gus is healing and moving about. However, nothing is sunshine around the house.

Pairing-> Gus March-Phillipps/Reader

Word Count-> 3.3k

Chapters-> I II III

Warnings-> PG-13: Language, Deception, References to WWII

Inspiration-> The one and only Chaos Major, Gus March-Phillipps.

Author’s Note-> I hope you enjoy! Line divider by @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

-> If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLIST as well as my @VIKING-RAIDER-LIBRARY and turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy!’ Ao3-> DRAGON_DWELLER

“You told our father what?” Edmund barked, as you met him outside the cottage, the next morning.

You had peeked out the window for him, ever since you woke.

“Well,” You sighed, closing your eyes for a moment. “It was Gus that thought on his feet and told Papa that he was working with you on things around the house.” You repeat yourself, licking your lips. “We had to tell him something, when he found Gus coming out of the bathroom, after his shower.”

Edmund carded a hand through his hair and paced on the small porch. “So, you told him that Gus was a carpenter from another village, who's come over to help me put up shelves in the basement and do repairs around the cottage?”

“Yes.” You nodded, fidgeting. “What else were we to tell him, Eddie? I just opened the front door and grabbed some random man off the street, who looked as if he needed a shower?” You huffed, a tad frustrated.

“No.” He sighed, waving his hand, a tired expression coming over his face. “No, the two of you did the right thing. I suppose it's just as good an excuse to explain him to Pops than any other.” He exhaled again and stopped pacing. “Right well, is the man handy with a hammer or saw?”

“I haven't the slightest clue.”

“I'll find out.” Edmund replied, motioning you both inside and found Gus sitting at the kitchen table, sipping a cup of coffee and reading his book.

Edmund looked at you with a lifted brow and you gave him a look that said, why not, since your father knew he was there, making your brother roll his eyes.

“Good morning, Edmund.” Gus greeted him, setting his book down.

“Morning.” He answered, narrowing his eyes at the other man, sitting nonchalantly at the table. “Are you ready to work today?” He asked, squaring his shoulders.

“I am.” Gus answered, taking a gulp of his coffee, unphased.

“Not before the two of you eat breakfast.” You spoke up, pulling your apron on. “So, park yourself at the table.” You ordered Edmund, pointing to the chair across from Gus, defusing the brewing cloud of male bravado.

Sighing, Edmund pulled the chair out and plopped into it, giving you a short nod as you set a steaming cup of coffee down in front of him. Blowing gently on it, he stared across at Gus, who had returned to his book, but felt the other man's eyes on him and lifted a brow over the top of his page. Edmund cocked a brow back at him.

“So, Gus.” Your father called out from the sitting room, having kept his own eye on him since Gus appeared upstairs.

“Yes, sir?” Gus answered, respectfully setting his book down again and tilting slightly to the side to give Mael his attention.

“Why aren't you fighting in the War?”

“Papa!” You gasped, head jerking in his direction, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. “That's rude.” You whined at him, frowning.

“It's all right.” Gus replied, smiling sweetly at you. “I don't mind.” He assured you, then looked back at Mael. “I'm a Conscientious Objector, being Evangelical.” He explained to him, causally.

Mael stared at Gus for a long while, fluttering and tapping the pencil between his fingers against his map. The sizzle of hotcake batter on the red-hot griddle and the bubble of the percolator on the counter filling the quiet space, as no one spoke. Finally, Edmund grunted, shrugging his shoulders and taking another sip of his coffee, putting the atmosphere back into some reasonable balance.

“At least, he's not a deserter or a Nazi.” Edmund commented, putting his coffee cup down and picking up the newspaper you'd set on the table.

“Exactly.” You trumpeted, nodding your head, a tingle of relief running through you, turning back to the griddle to flip the hotcakes. “How many cakes do you want, Papa?” You asked, shoveling the steaming rounds onto a serving plate.

“Three, Peanut.” He answered, still tapping his pencil, but his eyes had shifted to the uneven hardwood floor.

Nodding, you shifted three over onto his plate, before taking up a knife and cutting another in half, adding one half with his three, knowing sometimes three weren't enough, but four could be too much for him.

“Boys?” You called over your shoulder, cracking an egg onto the griddle, beside the two fresh pools of batter.

“Four, please.” Gus chimed, turning a page.

“Same.” Edmund replied, squinting at the small print of the article he was trying to read.

Humming to yourself, you finished cooking up the batter and made everyone an egg, before doling out plates. Everyone had just dug in, when a knock sounded on the door. You and Edmund tensed, eyeing each other, a silent conversation going between you.

“Don't be rude!” Mael huffed around a mouthful of food.

Sighing, you stood up and answered it, finding Dr. Tremblay on your doorstep, black bag in hand, a flood of relief washing over you.

“Oh! Good morning, Dr. Tremblay.” You greeted him, glancing behind you to Gus and Edmund.

“Good morning, mon chéri.” Tremblay smiled at you, kissing your cheek and glancing into the house and spotting Gus at the table, enjoying his breakfast. “I see my patient is feeling better.” He commented, lifting a bushy white brow.

“He is.” You nodded, stepping to the side. “Please, come in. Would you like some coffee or tea?” You asked, biting your lip nervously.

“Tea would be nice, oui.” Dr. Tremblay answered, setting his bag on the table.

Edmund looked at the respected senior and cocked a brow over his shoulder to his father, hoping to indicate not speaking of Gus's injury and real purpose in the house. Tremblay returned a squinty eyed glare, just as you set down his cup of tea, making you chuckle at the two of them.

“What's brought you over so early, Sacha?” Mael asked, forking a hotcake into his mouth, but his eyes were cast over the table.

“Oh,” Tremblay waved his hand dismissively, before reaching out for the sugar pot in the center of the table, dropping two granular, ivory cubes into his teacup. “I came to check up on Edmund.” He replied, looking at your brother with a mischievous glint in his eye. “Heard from Thom that he might need a new pair of glasses. So, I've come to take some measurements.” He said, patting his bag, still sitting on the table.

“You didn't mention anything about that, Ed.” Your father croaked, looking a bit alarmed.

“I didn't want to burden you with it, Pops.” Edmund answered, squeezing the handle of his fork. “No worries though. Doc has it under control.” He grunted, eyes shifting over to Gus.

Everyone finished their breakfast and Edmund showed Tremblay upstairs, under the guise of looking at his eyes in privacy, while Gus excused himself to the bathroom, following the two of them upstairs. You fret a little bit, picking up the dishes from the table and putting them in the sink, the feeling anxious of not knowing if Gus's wound was healing right or if he needed the antibiotics anymore. You wanted to go upstairs and join them. But knew if you did, your father would likely get more suspicious.

“Are we going to take our usual Sunday afternoon stroll around the garden today, Papa?” You asked, putting a plate on the drying rack.

“I'll see how I feel come time, Peanut.” Mael replied, leaning against the arm of his chair to catch every word the radio presenter was saying.

Nodding, you pulled out the mop bucket and carried it out to the garden, using the garden hose to fill it. Leaning against the wall beside the door, you looked up at the morning sky, steely with angry looking, iron-gray clouds drifting by overhead. You drew in a deep breath, filling your nostrils with the cool and salty scent of the sea, but it also had the faint snap of the ozone, the possible threat of chubby raindrops.

“Well, it looks like my nurse took excellent care of me.” Gus's voice chimed in your ear, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Your wound is all right?” You asked, casting your eyes up to his.

“Yes, ma'am.” He smiled, filling the doorway. “Healing nicely and should have the stitches out in no time.” He assured you, lifting his jumper a little to show you. “I also don't need any more shots! Which I am thankful for!” He chuckled, but looked at you quickly. “Not that you weren't good at administering them!”

“Oh no!” You giggled, cheeks warm with embarrassment and relief. “I'm just as glad as you are! I would have much preferred Dr. Tremblay make you take the antibiotic by mouth! The idea of sticking you, or anyone, with a needle is frightening. I'm surprised I didn't wound you further in the process.”

Gus smirked, glancing down at his boots. “I doubt you could have. I have thighs the size of tree trunks.” He remarked, biting his lip for a moment. “Your bucket!” He gasped, catching sight of the water spilling over the side.

“Oh shoot!” You snapped, twisting the nozzle off and letting out a sigh.

“I'm sorry, I distracted you.” Gus apologized, watching you tip the bucket slightly to let out the excess water.

“It's all right. I should have been paying attention.” You shrugged, grabbing the handle.

“Here, I'll carry it in for you.” He offered, replacing your hand with his at the handle.

You brushed a loose lock of hair behind your ear and watched him take it inside, before shaking your head, as if to snap yourself out of something, and followed him back inside. “You can put it right there.” You instructed him, going under the sink to grab the bottle of fairy liquid. “Are you going to help my brother?” You asked in a hushed voice, pouring some of the washing up solution in the water, while glancing over at your father, who had dozed off.

“I don't know.” Gus replied, a crease forming between his brows. “I'm not sure your brother is too fond of me.”

“Edmund is...” You sighed, resting your hands on your hips. “Edmund tends to be guarded. Many relationships in his life haven't panned out. With our mother leaving us and his wife—well, Willa has big dreams. She feels have been held back and blames him for that, by keeping them here in Saint-Thurney. So, sometimes, even when he does like someone, he gives them the cold shoulder.”

“He's waiting for the boot to drop.” He nodded, understanding.

“Exactly.” You hummed, grabbing the mop and dripping it into the soapy bucket. “Now, you need to skitter off my kitchen floor, so I can wash it.” You ordered, shooing him.

“Yes, ma'am.” Gus laughed, swiping his book off the kitchen table, gave you a grinning salute and made for the basement, casting one more look back at you, smirking as you started scrubbing the floor. “Do you want any help?” He asked, finding Edmund framing up the shelves against the cellar wall.

Edmund paused, a nail clamped between his lips, bracing his elbow against the board he was nailing, he took the one out of his mouth, answering. “Are you any good at building things?”

“I find my way around a saw, hammer and a nail.” Gus replied, looking around at Edmund's spread-out supplies. “Just tell me what you want done with them.”

“All right.” Edmund nodded, cocking a brow at him. “I need a few more boards cut. I already have them marked to length. You can do that for me.”

“Sure thing, Captain.” Gus replied, going into his makeshift room to set his book down. “What?” He asked the other man's look, lifting one of the pre-marked boards onto the sawhorses, finding the pencil measurements and grabbing the saw that rested against the leg beside him.

“Don't call me that.” Edmund growled, an angry glare in his eyes.

Gus held his gaze for a moment, a faint smirk on his lips. “My apologies.”

The two of them nodded at each other, then turned back to their work.

There was no afternoon walk to be had, the dark clouds from that morning broke open and saturated everything outside, shutting in the residents of Saint-Thurney. Your father continued to doze in his chair, unbothered by the weather pattering the roof like a percussion symphony. Gus and Edmund were still down in the basement, hard at work, coming up periodically for bathroom breaks and refreshments, and you sat at the kitchen table, sipping a cup of tea and getting lost in the world of Oliver Twist.

You paused, bringing your teacup to your lips and cast your eyes to the window by the door, sure you had heard something outside, above the rain and carpentry. But saw nothing and shrugged, taking your sip and set the cup down, returning to your sentence. However, a few moments later, you swore you heard it again; putting you on edge.

“Edmund!” You called out, slowly setting your book down, the hairs at the back of your neck began to stand up. You gasped, seeing three men flash by the window. “Edmund!” You shouted, startling your father awake, his eyes wide with panicked alarm.

A thunder of furious pounding sounded on the front door accompanied Edmund and Gus's boots stomping up the basement stairs, frantic and confused. You had rushed over to your father, in an attempt to calm him before he slipped into an episode of shock.

“It's the Patrol!” You cried, rubbing your father's back, eyes trained on the vibrating door, a stream of German demands now being shouted with their banging, mixed with accented French and English.

“Damn my eyes.” Edmund growled, gritting his teeth. “They must be doing random searches, thinking they can catch everyone inside with the weather.” He huffed, wiping at his sweaty brow and glancing at Gus, who seemed startling calm, but tense.

“We have to let them in!” You urged your brother, not liking how angry the Patrol sounded and knowing the longer you waited, the worse it would be.

“I know!” Edmund barked sharply, the gears in his brain spinning for a split second longer, before he took a long step forward and yanked the door open. “What's the meaning of this!? Are you trying to wake the dead?” He demanded, looking the three German Patrol officers over, the Sturmführer was red faced, and all of them were dripping from being forced to wait so long in the rain, for an answer.

“Inspections!” He snapped in Edmund's face, a small bit of spit hanging from his bottom lip.

“Yes, fine!” Edmund replied, rolling his eyes and shoving the door open.

No one moved as the three officers entered the cozy cottage. Your hand shook as it rested on your father's shoulder, periodically massaging it when you felt him tremble, still on the edge of a possible attack from his Shell Shock. Edmund eyed them from his place by the door, sweaty hands clenched into fists as he watched them conduct their inspections. More like a path of intrusive destruction. They yanked books off shelves, opened cabinets and tossed out their contents, pushed over furniture for amusement.

Even nicked things, when they thought the owners weren't looking.

Mael leaned forward slightly, mumbling to himself, causing you to frown. You tried to kneel down to bring your ear close to his mouth and listen to what he was saying, worried for him, but were stopped by one of the officers. He grabbed you roughly by the arm and yanked you up, barking something at you in German that you didn't understand.

“Please, he's not well!” You protested, tugging against him, desperate to care for your father before he slipped too far.

“Nein, bleib, Hexe!” He barked at you, making you cry out, his grasp tightening.

Before Edmund could blink, Gus was halfway across the kitchen, trained on the German holding you, like a bull seeing red. Snarling, with nostrils flaring, Gus twisted his fist in the officer's uniform and yanked them together. Forcing the other man up onto the tip-toes of his black polished boots in the process.

“Let her go!” He barked, giving him a good shake, for effect.

Startled, he let go, you tumbled to the floor at their feet, and rubbed at the burning handprint that was left behind. The air in the cottage thickened dramatically. One of the officer's comrades came rushing in from the garden, hearing the commotion, and fumbled for his sidearm. While their leader came flying downstairs.

“What is this!” The commanding officer demanded, glaring at Gus as he continued to hold his subordinate. “Put my officer down! At once!” He ordered, when Gus didn't move, showing no fear or reluctance towards the three of them, unlike you, Edmund or your father. “Who is this man?” He barked, looking between your brother and father.

“Answer me, at once!” He screamed, face turning red again. “Or I'll have him shot!”

“No!” You cried out, frightened. “Gus, let him go!” You begged him, pulling on his pant leg, desperately. “I'm fine, please!”

“Answer!” The officer growled at the lot of you, his limited patience wearing thin. “Oswin!” He hissed at his officer, who was now pointing his Walther p38 at Gus. “Shoot him!” He ordered, with a hard jerk of his head.

“He's my sister's fiancé!” Edmund blurted out, as Oswin pulled the pistol's slide back, his eyes wild in the heat of the moment, before collecting himself and saying more calmly. “He's just my sister's fiancé.” He gulped, meeting your eye as you looked up at him, stunned, and caught off guard by the omission.

“What man wouldn't protect his betrothed?” He asked the Storm Leader, moving his eyes to Gus.

“A lesser man.” Gus replied, taking the cue, then looked at the commanding officer. “And I'm not a lesser man, to have your filthy runt put his hands on my girl.” He growled, shoving the man away.

“Why have we not seen you before?” He demanded, looking Gus over.

“He was serving, but just returned home, after being wounded.” You explained to him, looking up at Gus. It was the easiest bit of information to give, for them to believe, Gus could show them his wound.

“Is that so?” The officer asked, cocking a brow.

“It is.” Gus answered, pulling up his jumper to show them his bullet wound. “I was wounded in Belgium and discharged. So, I came here to be with her and recover.”

“Can anyone other than those here confirm your story?” He asked, narrowing his eyes at the lot of you.

“Yes.” Edmund chimed in, feeling like the situation was on decent grounds. “Dr. Sacha Tremblay. He's been doctoring his wound since he's been back.”

“I will be checking and informing the Director General.” The Storm Leader warned the three of you, and the look in his eyes hinted at his misgiving, waiting for one of you to crack.

“Very well.” Edmund answered, his tone bland, shrugging one shoulder.

The senior officer stared the three of you down for a second longer, before looking to his men, inquiring in German if they had found anything. But the two replied in the negative. There was no contraband or anything that could get any of you in trouble as collaborators to the French Resistance or Allied Powers. Despite Gus standing right there in front of them, plain as day.

Whether they knew that or thought they had enough evidence to take you in, was another story entirely.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

This 1891 Victorian in Augusta, Georgia is soooo pretty. It was once a restaurant and the current owners kept some of the restaurant intact, but the 1st floor is the main residence and the 2nd floor is rental income from studio apts. 4bds, 4ba, $359,900. The area is zoned for commercial use, so if you wanted to open a cafe, you could.

Lovely entrance hall. I don't think that the tenants use it, though. I think it's private.

The sitting room is set up as a dining room. This home has beautiful original fireplaces.

This sunny room still has the restaurant tables.

I would definitely keep the restaurant bar with the built-in seating and the huge bar.

You could have a lot of good times in here.

The kitchen is commercial, and it's kind of retro. Love the red stove and look at the size of that griddle. It's certainly a unique house.

Bedroom #1 is so pretty with the fireplace and exposed brick walls.

This bedroom is lovely, also.

This looks like a casual sitting room.

Look at the way they did the fireplace in this room- they sprayed it silver, logs and all.

Bd. #4 may be the primary bedroom, b/c it has a sofa, since the owner didn't make a living room. They did the fireplace in metallic turquoise and it really makes it pop.

Look at this shower room- it even has a comfy chair.

Lovely powder room.

It has a sweet little yard with a patio and an ivy garden.

The back porch must be the way that the tenants enter the studio apts. The main residence has a large porch, also.

There's a garage and a side yard.

The street in front of the house.

https://www.oldhouses.com/35435

[impala-dreamer]

Slipping Away

A Short Story

~ In his heart he’s lived a hundred lives, been through hell and back, loved a million souls. The heart is strong but the mind is weak, and in the end, only memory remains as his lives begin to fade.~

Jensen Ackles

954 Words

Bittersweet Angst

Thank you to everyone who read/shared/commented on my stories for @jacklesversebingo and specifically to @deanwinchesterswitch who organized such a fun, inspiring event. This is my final piece for the bingo, using the prompt "All But One Dies”. I hope you enjoy this swan song...

JacklesBingo Masterlist ~ Full Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

There’s an old man sitting at the end of the bar. His hair has long ago gone gray but a strand of dark walnut still peaks through now and then. The memory of reddish-brown plays over his jaw, but it’s all gone white. His skin has grown pale over the years, his tan freckles fading with it. He used to be covered in speckles like stars across the universe, but now, only a few remain. His tall frame is bent with a slight forward hunch- the consequence of years of stunts that should have been left for younger, more qualified men. His shoulders are still broad, but now bony, and his arms are weaker yet just as warm. 

His eyes are still the color of the forest, but behind them, not much else remains. 

Long, thin fingers trace the rim of a whiskey glass before gripping it tight and lifting the last sip to his lips. Once so plump and rosy pink, they’re impossibly cracked and pale. 

The whiskey soothes the ache in his bones and he sighs. 

Time has been cruel, but the life he can remember was good. 

Once upon a time, he’d traveled the world, meeting a million smiling faces and dodging hands all reaching out for him. He’d captivated every stage he’d set foot on, microphones twirling in his hand and carrying his laugh through countless auditoriums. He told hundreds of stories, some more than once, some exaggerated, all met with applause. 

How many times had he smiled for the camera or accepted hugs from strangers? How many pen strokes were wasted on his name? It was impossible to tell. He was barely able to remember those events now, let alone count the numbers. He knew he’d made them smile, he knew he’d left some impression. 

Memories were fleeting and sometimes painful. It was getting harder to sort through the flashes of history and make sense of anything. Some days it felt like he’d lived a dozen lifetimes. 

He remembered running through dark, damp tunnels with no more than a headlamp to light his way. He could smell the coal; feel the heft of the pickax in his hands. His breath was thick and heavy as he stalked his way down into the depths of Hell. 

He remembered pining for the girl- a beauty with long dark hair and bright eyes. He could almost smell her sweet perfume and hear her sassy remarks as he tried his best to woo her affection. He tasted oil and vinegar on his fingertips; felt the bacon grease pop from the griddle and sting his arms. 

There were times when he recalled the feeling of wind on his face as he leaped from rooftop to rooftop beneath a full moon. Clad in heavy kevlar, he moved through the shadows of the city, listening for screams or cackles of evil. 

Sometimes, memory inferred that he was the evil one. Striding with purpose through a warzone or locking his long fingers around some delicate throat. Power surged through his veins surely as the drugs he took, and it felt as if he were immune to the rules of life and the laws of man. He could do anything he wanted, be anything, kill anything. He was the epitome of strength, the emblem of America, the most powerful man alive. 

Those lives were disappearing faster these days. When he struggled to remember, he drank. When he cried for lives he’d taken or loves he’d lost, he slept. 

The football fields and shell necklaces, the cowls and capes, the flashes and stages- they were all lost in the fog of his mind. A myriad of lives lived and stolen by age until only one remained. 

He smiles when the bartender works her way back to him. 

Kate is short and curvy, with dyed pink hair that matches her neon tank top. There are silver studs in her ears and a hoop in her nose, and her shoulder is inked with scrollwork wrapped around an image he could never decipher. 

“Can I getcha another drink?” she asks, thickly painted lashes fluttering kindly at him. 

Jensen nods and pushes his glass forward. His voice is shaky as he speaks, but he soon finds a familiar rhythm.

“Did I ever tell you about the time I ganked an entire vamp nest by myself? Took out a dozen blood-suckers before Sammy even knew I was gone.” He laughs and reaches for the refreshed drink. “It was something. I was somethin’. Best hunter there ever was. Well, Sam had his moments, but I was good. Real good…”

The bartender smiles. She’s heard the stories before but doesn’t mind repeats. The old actor is sweet and tips her well, so she never minds watching out for him until his daughter comes to collect him. 

“If you play your cards right, Sweetheart, I may take you for a spin in my car.” He winks over the tumbler at her, green eyes slick with a flirtatious gaze. “Sexiest damn car you’ll ever see. My Baby. One of a kind. You know, I rebuilt her a whole bunch of times…” His voice trails off as he tries desperately to count the occasions, but time is twisted and pale. His brow creases with worry as another memory slips away. There is only one life left and it’s vanishing more every day. Tears well in his eyes and he clears his throat. “Anyway… I uh…” 

Kate gently takes his hand and leans close, catching his gaze. “Hey. It’s OK, Mr. Ackles. You’re OK.” 

The old man sighs and worry leaves him. He smiles and squeezes her hand. 

“Hey, did I ever tell you about the time I killed Hitler?” 

[seniorpollinationtechnician]

Meet the Townies: ᴊᴏʜɴɴʏ

Johnny Zest began his journey to stardom in his late teens by creating short, comedic skits on Social Bunny. A few of his videos went viral, but his primary source of fame was a video where he interviewed attendees at 'UrsineCon', a niche event meant for people who enjoy dressing up as bears, collecting bear memorabilia, and immersing themselves in bear-themed activities. His interview style was characterized by respect and genuine curiosity, which in turn gave a platform for these individuals to share their unique stories and passions. His approach was less about making jokes at their expense and more about highlighting the creativity and experience as a whole. He continued to create videos in this style after it exploded in popularity, attending various events such as the 'Gnome Gala', 'Grilled Cheese Griddle-Off', and the 'Voidcritter Battle Bash'. Johnny eventually became a sought-after guest on a variety of podcasts due to his talent for storytelling and insightful yet humorous commentary. This exposure led him to voice acting, where he lent his distinctive voice to several projects. He even made a memorable guest appearance on the popular Dungeons and Dragons stream 'The Adventurer's Guild' as Zephyr, the air genasi bard. Unfortunately, his life took an unexpected turn when a group of internet sleuths uncovered his birth certificate records, revealing his relation to the wealthy and influential Landgraab family. This revelation sparked a wave of controversy with many of his fans and detractors believing Johnny had misrepresented himself to gain popularity. The backlash was swift after the hashtags #ZestyScandal and #LandgraabLeech began trending. Critics accused him of using his family's wealth and connections to further his career. Various online forums dissected his past with some suggesting that his viral successes were orchestrated by the Landgraab family influence. In response, Johnny took to his platforms to address the accusations. He admitted to being estranged from the Landgraabs and insisted he had built his career independently. Despite his efforts to clarify his position, Johnny had effectively been 'canceled'. After the accusations had somewhat died down, Johnny decided it was time to return to his roots. He wanted to rebuild his reputation and reconnect with his audience in a meaningful way. Thus, "Plumbob Perspective" was born, a groundbreaking talk show hosted on SimTube. In it, Johnny explores a wide range of topics relevant to the community and beyond, from social issues to pop culture, all with his signature blend of humor and insight. The show features in-depth interviews with experts and other social media stars, providing a platform for meaningful conversations and diverse perspectives. ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ As "Plumbob Perspective” continues to gain traction, many are wondering if Johnny Zest has truly risen from the ashes of his past controversies. While the show has been well-received, with viewers praising its fresh take on current events and engaging format, some skeptics remain unconvinced. Only time will tell if Johnny has effectively reinvented himself.

[daybreakerangel]

This is my first Fanfiction even though I like to write. They are not written in character because I just wanted to write some fluff. This fic is SFW with a hint of spiciness at the end.

Title: Morning Delight 🎸🍎

There was a red hue across the King of Hell’s luxury bedroom. Behind the canopy curtain and under a wine-colored comforter lay the king himself, Lucifer, lying beside his partner, the first man, Adam. Lucifer had been awake for a while, snuggling against Adam, enjoying the warmth that radiated from Adam’s plump physique. Adam’s golden wings were spread out across the California king bed.

Lucifer looked up at Adam, who was still sleeping. His halo was dimmed, and he was breathing softly. Lucifer scooted up a bit to admire Adam’s face. The dark circles around Adam’s eyes were slowly fading, making it easier to see the freckles scattered across his tan face.

An idea popped into Lucifer’s head. He slowly backed away from the sleeping angel, slipped out from under the comforter, and left the bed. His hooved feet hit the Saxony carpet, and after he stood up, he noticed that his rubber duck-themed pajamas had ridden up his legs. He pulled them down and looked back at Adam, who had rolled onto his side, his wings returning to their default position. Lucifer did not want to make any noise, so he revealed his wings and left the bedroom quietly. He reached the door, opened it with ease, and once in the hallway, closed it softly.

Lucifer flew down to the first floor of his castle. Upon entering the massive kitchen, he put his wings away and headed to the cabinets. He grabbed two glass decorative plates, one large and the other small, two transparent glass bowls, and his non-stick pans, placing the bowls on the counter and the pans on the stove. He went to the fridge and grabbed five eggs, then reached into the freezer to retrieve three gourmet sausages. Finally, he headed to the pantry for the ingredients to make homemade pancakes. He wanted to surprise Adam with breakfast in bed but realized he was going to need some help. Lucifer snapped his fingers, and two mini versions of himself popped into existence. The one on the left had pink hair, and the one on the right had blue hair.

"Alright, Pink, you are in charge of making the pancakes, and Blue, you are in charge of making the sausages. Got it?" Lucifer announced. The mini Lucifers saluted and got to work.

Lucifer cracked the eggs and whisked them up to make scrambled eggs. He turned the knob on the stove, and flames rose from the burner. He poured the whisked eggs into the pan, then went back to the fridge and grabbed a bag of shredded white cheese. He opened the bag and took a handful of cheese in his left hand, dropping it into the whisked eggs mixture. As he glanced to his right, he noticed that Pink was cooking the sausages while Blue was still putting the pancake ingredients together.

Lucifer focused on making the scrambled eggs, watching the cheese melt evenly into the mixture. He glanced over at Blue, who had finally finished making the batter and was pulling out the griddle. Pink had finished cooking the sausages, placing two on the larger plate and the last one on the smaller plate. Just then, Lucifer noticed that the eggs were about to burn.

"Oh, shit!" he exclaimed, quickly turning off the flame and moving the pan off the burner.

Blue was pouring the batter into a heart-shaped pancake mold, gently removing the mold to flip the pancake. Every heart-shaped pancake came out beautifully.

"Is there anything you want me to do, bigger me?" Pink asked.

Lucifer was placing the eggs onto the plates. "Uh, make us a fresh batch of coffee. Adam likes his with brown sugar and cream, and I like mine with almond milk, no sugar. Got it?"

Pink saluted again and went to start on his new task.

Back in the bedroom, Adam was waking up. He crawled to the end of the bed and pushed the canopy curtain away. He wanted to watch some TV while waiting for Lucifer to call him down for breakfast. He got up from the bed, stretched his back and wings, and retied the drawstrings on his grey sweatpants, which were about to fall off. Grabbing the remote from the nightstand, he turned on the TV and headed to the bathroom.

Pink had finished the pancakes, making five for Adam and three for Lucifer. Blue had completed brewing the coffee. Lucifer was pleased with how everything had turned out, and he could not stop smiling. He poured strawberry syrup onto his pancakes and blueberry syrup on Adam’s. Then, with a mischievous grin, he added something Adam did not like—ketchup on the scrambled eggs. Lucifer placed the plates on separate bed trays and had the minis carry them while he held onto the coffee mugs.

Adam was lounging in bed, his eyes glued to the TV. The bedroom door opened quickly, catching Adam’s attention. He looked over and saw Pink and Blue, feeling confused until the actual Lucifer walked in.

"I needed extra hands," Lucifer explained. Pink handed Adam his tray, and Lucifer took his own tray from Blue. "Thanks for the help, minis." Lucifer snapped his fingers, and the minis disappeared.

"Breakfast in bed? That is pretty fancy, LuLu," Adam grinned.

"Wanted to try something new," Lucifer replied, kissing Adam on the cheek as he climbed back into bed.

"Heart-shaped pancakes? Oh, that is adorable," Adam giggled, digging into his breakfast. Lucifer blushed at the compliment and started eating his own meal.

Minutes passed, and Adam had a satisfied expression on his face as he sipped the last of his coffee. Lucifer was still eating.

"Ketchup on eggs is weird," Adam joked.

"I know, but it tastes good," Lucifer asserted. After finishing, Lucifer snuggled up against Adam, who began playing with Lucifer’s blonde hair.

"You know..." Adam started, sitting up, which confused Lucifer. "For lunch, I want something really special."

Lucifer sat up, giving Adam a puzzled look. Adam placed his left hand onto Lucifer’s plump ass and squeezed it, making Lucifer’s face turn a deep shade of yellow.

"I was thinking about some apple dumplings. That sounds nice, right?" Adam whispered into Lucifer’s ear. Lucifer just grinned in response.

[oleander-nin]

Happy Anniversary(Yan!Rise! Leo x Reader)

A/N, not important: Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

Tw: kidnapping mention, knives, forced isolation, hair pulling, dark themes

Words: 1356

Summary: Leo wants to celebrate your anniversary. You don't.

"What are you cooking?"

My soul jumps out of my body at the words, my hand shaking. I glance back, looking at Leo. I shoot him a strained smile, trying to hide my nervousness. "O-Oh, just uh, just some eggs and bacon. I just thought I would..."

My voice wavers before trailing off as Leo wraps his arms around my waist, my skin burning at his touch. He leans against me with his chin on my shoulder, watching me cook. I swallow my bile. My muscles tense and my breath goes still, trying my best to keep the urge to shake him off down. I keep my eyes trained on the pan of eggs, my hands trembling as I continue to fold them to let them cook evenly.

Leo hums softly, his chest vibrating against my back and his breathing ticking my neck. The frying bacon pops and hisses on the griddle, the oils shooting out onto my hands and leaving small burns. I don’t move my hands away, trying to keep my pounding heart steady. I know he could feel it. I know he could tell how afraid I was.

"Today's our anniversary." He says softly, still leaning his weight onto me. I inwardly gag as he nuzzles his face into my neck, repressing my instincts to run. My blood runs cold at his words, my mind blanking for a moment. I knew what he meant. As of today, It had been a full year since I had been kidnapped. To him, it marked the day we started ‘dating’. To me, it marked the day I lost my freedom.

I had to keep calm, to feign happiness. Anything else would make him mad. Today was the worst day I could make him mad. I continue making the eggs, my mind on fire. His leaned weight on me felt too heavy, suffocating. His arms were too tight, his face this close felt dangerous. 

“You’re burning the eggs, love.” 

My brain halts in confusion before a smoky smell reaches my nose as I look down. I quickly turn off the heat and move the pan away from the hot stove, desperately folding the eggs over in the pan to try and mitigate the damage. I shudder as Leo kisses my temple, chuckling. His voice was too smooth, too placate. He was planning something, he had to be. 

I suck in a breath as he slides off me, his hand lingering on my lower back for a moment before his touch fully leaves. “I’ll get the plates.”

I leave the pan with the slightly burnt eggs to the side, trying my best to focus my attention on the bacon. I let myself take a few deep breaths, my heart rate slowing to a more normal pace. It had been a year since Leo had taken me, a year since I had even gone outside. I wanted to go home.

My eyes drift to the knife block. It sat by the stove, unassuming. Each knife was sharp and sturdy, each built for a specific purpose in the kitchen. Was I desperate enough to use it for my own? I turn the heat of the griddle down, letting the bacon cool slightly. I didn’t have to actually hurt him, I just… I just needed him to believe I would. I slip the cooked bacon into the cooled pan with the eggs, contemplating what I was about to do. I square my shoulders slightly.

I couldn’t take this anymore. I wouldn’t take this anymore. I glance at the knives again, my face hardening. If needed, I would hurt him. It would make up for all the times he hurt me.

I shift on my feet, glancing back at Leo. His back was to me as he gathered various dishware while he hummed a familiar tune under his breath. He wasn’t paying attention to me. Now was my probably only chance. I shift closer to the knife block, my fingers wrapping around the handle of one of the steak knives before pulling it smoothly from its wooden sheath. I slip the knife in front of me, holding it to my thigh. I glance back at Leo. He was still setting the table, oblivious. Hope fills my chest and I celebrate my small victory in my head. My eyes look over the stove, pretending I was still messing with the food. I was going to get out.

My heart drops mid celebration when I feel Leo press against me once more, his lips pressing to my neck. I hold my breath, my adrenaline picking up again. I squeeze the handle of the knife, glancing over my shoulder to meet his gaze.

"I saw that∼" Leo coos, wrapping his arms around my waist once more. Bile crawls up my throat at his words, my muscles tensing. How did he know? He wasn’t paying attention, I could’ve sworn he… Leo’s hand squeezes just above my hip while his other hand trails down my arm. "How about you be a good little human and drop. The. Knife. We both know you don't know how to use it."

Leo’s hand wraps around my wrist holding the knife while still keeping me snug against his body with the other. Jutting his thumb into a point on my wrist, my hand goes slack. I try to keep my body still, but my mind is racing and my limbs are shaking. The knife falls to the ground with a loud clatter. I swallow back tears, both from frustration and fear. How does he see everything I do? I was a fool for thinking I could ever get something past him.

Leo grabs the handle of the knife with his foot before transferring it to his hand, leaning on me the whole time. The way his hand sat on my side, the way it would squeeze me every time I moved. I knew it was a threat. I take in another deep breath, trying to calm down. I messed up.

Leo lazily tosses the knife into the sink, wrapping his other arm just above my stomach. My lip and chin tremble as he presses his scaly cheek to mine, his eyes glancing at me. He sports a lazy grin despite the clear displeasure shining in his eyes. He presses a soft kiss to my temple before straightening slightly. His voice is cold, poison dripping from his tongue. "You just had to go and be stupid. And especially today? It's our anniversary!"

Leo shakes his head, tsking quietly. I flinch as he spins me around, pinning me to the counter. His grin was gone, replaced with the glare of a devil. I shrink back, panicking.

"I- I wasn't going to... I was uh, it wasn't-" My frantic begging falls on deaf ears as Leo's lip pulls up in a snarl, his knuckles flushing a light shade of green from his harsh grip on the countertop. 

"Shut up." 

I close my eyes, my hands desperately clinging to the counter to keep me from falling as my knees buckle. I yelp in pain when I feel his hand tangle into my hair, pulling me harshly away. I reach up my hands to claw at his wrist, tears pricking at my eyes from the sharp sudden pains. I stumble behind him as he roughly yanks me towards our shared room, whimpers and pleas falling from my mouth like rain from the sky. It was no use. I messed up.

“I thought you were over all this.” He hisses, using his leverage from my hair to toss me to the floor. I scramble backwards as he stalks towards me, fury sparking in his eyes. I hold back a scream as he towers over me. My back hits the wall and I look up, my eyes wide with terror. “But I guess you want to spend today alone, huh? Fine. I can do that.”

Leo’s markings glow bright in the dark room and the flickering blue of Leo’s portals forms beneath me. I fall in with a scream and my world turns a sickening shade of blue.

[swaps55]

Sparrow

For @dinchenrockt, who imagined Sam and Kaidan having pancakes on a nice day. I just added a little drama, because this is Sam we're talking about. Read on Ao3

The second batch of pancakes is starting to bubble when Kaidan’s skin tingles in the presence of Shepard’s biotic field. Shepard himself peers at Kaidan suspiciously from behind the archway into the kitchen, like he’s doing recon and Kaidan is an unknown element.

 “Hey, you,” Kaidan says with an amused smile. “Good morning.”

“It is morning by my standards. It is ass o’clock by your standards. Why are you awake?”

Kaidan gestures towards the open window, where sunrise hasn’t quite surrendered to daytime and some enterprising birds are getting a jump on things. “It’s a beautiful morning. Thought I’d spoil you with a nice breakfast.” 

Technically true, on both counts, even if it doesn’t really answer the question. Shepard narrows his eyes, perhaps suspecting there’s more to it, but Kaidan heads off further questions by plucking a piece of bacon off a plate and holding it up.

“Burnt it just for you.”

Shepard makes an interested sound and fully enters the kitchen, snatching the Distraction Bacon and popping it in his mouth. Bacon shouldn’t crunch like that unless it’s in a salad, but relationships require compromise.

“So, bacon. Pancakes.”

“Bacon in the pancakes. With bacon garnish.”

“Fancy.”

“Also blueberries,” Kaidan says, gesturing to a bowl. “And, uh, I was going to make some eggs but I accidentally just made more pancakes.”

“True to your nature.” He kisses Kaidan on the temple. “I’ll get plates.”

“One step ahead of you. We’re eating outside.”

Another suspicious look.

“It’s nice outside, remember?”

“I will concede it is tolerable outside, because I love you. But breakfast made, table set, and it’s what time? How long have you been up?”

Kaidan shrugs a nonchalant shoulder. “I said I wanted to spoil you.”

Still not an answer, but he hands Shepard the blueberries to give him something else to focus on and flips the remaining pancakes onto a platter, next to the pile of bacon, all nestled onto a blue and yellow tray that had been gathering dust in the back of a curio until Kaidan stumbled upon it last week looking for decorative pitcher his mother had asked about. After flipping the griddle off, he leads them to the front porch and sets the trays down on the small table next to the porch swing.

Shepard observes the spread. “Orange juice. Cloth napkins. The ‘good’ silverware. By the way, I still do not understand the silverware hierarchy.”

“My mother will happily show you next time she visits.”

Shepard snickers as he takes a seat. “Well, whatever. You pulled out all the stops. You are spoiling me.”

Kaidan makes a pleased sound as they fill their plates. They’re the same blue and yellow as the platter, with a sunflower in the center and a painted band around the edges. He’d forgotten about them completely until finding the platter. His father used to break them out when they had big breakfasts in the summer. He traces a chip in the paint. Where had they even come from in the first place? His mother? Were they just inherited with the house when his mother took it over from Kaidan’s grandparents? He’d never asked. Maybe she knows.

“Look at all this burnt bacon, just for me,” Shepard says, with a soft smile.

“Just for you.”

No reason to mention that it got burned because Kaidan was too locked in his own head to notice until he damn near set off the smoke detector.

But the pancakes are good, quite frankly. The blueberries are ripe, picked from the bushes out behind the barn just yesterday. The breeze is cool but not cold, the sun pooling at the edge of the porch steps, warm and waiting.

A far cry from the days that weren’t beautiful.

He releases a long breath and forces his mind back to the present, where Shepard is drowning his pancakes in maple syrup because moderation is not a concept he has ever developed a relationship with.

Echo whinnies from the field down the hill, head raised, ears pricked, looking right at them, as though now that she’s noticed their presence she’s offended she wasn’t invited to breakfast.

“Later,” Shepard hollers back at her. “I’m getting spoiled.”

Kaidan rests an elbow on the table – his mother would be so aghast – and chuckles into his hand.

When had he stopped getting up in the mornings for those breakfasts his father cooked? Breakfast had been his forte. The only way he outshined Kaidan’s mother in the kitchen. But that last summer before BAaT he’d stopped getting out of bed for them.

Should have gotten out of bed.

Shepard’s eye is on him again, as he saws into his pancakes and fails to spear a piece of bacon along with his next bite because it’s so brittle it just breaks under the tines of his fork. Once he’s subdued the bacon he nudges Kaidan’s knee.

“You’re awfully quiet for someone who just put out such a magnificent spread.”

Kaidan waggles an eyebrow. “Resting on my laurels.”

Shepard knee stays at rest against his, and Kaidan leans a little more into it. The weight of it, the presence is…reassuring.

The sparrow that wings in from the roof and alights on Shepard’s stack of pancakes is less reassuring.

Read the rest on Ao3

[mamaestapa]

Let Me Make It up to You

•pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

•series summary: Y/n Hubbard, the younger sister of Cincinnati Bengals Defensive End Sam Hubbard, finds herself in a difficult situation after a steamy hookup with her brothers best friend, who just so happens to be the quarterback for the Bengals. In just nine months their lives will be changed forever. How will Y/n and Joe manage to to go through parenthood together? more so, how will Sam take the news he is going to be the uncle of his best friends baby?

•chapter summary: It’s the day of your OB appointment and you decide whether or not to hear our and forgive Joe for the past couple of days

•word count: 5.8k

•warnings: pregnancy, some angst, crying, fluff, SMUT—foreplay, unprotected p in v sex, make up sex, breeding kink if you squint?? could be really hot could also be cringe, IDK lol

series masterlist

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April 13, 2023

5 months pregnant

"Good morning, Y/n." Tee greeted with a pearly white grin as you walked into the kitchen. You returned the smile, wishing him a good morning as well. As you walked into the kitchen, the delicious smell of bacon frying on a skillet and golden brown pancakes cooking on the griddle filled your nostrils. You sighed contently as you sat down on a barstool.

"It smells wonderful Tee." You said, eyeing the bacon that was stacked onto a plate. Tee smiled, "Thanks. It's all for you," he opened a cupboard and pulled out a plate, handing it you, "figured you and Baby Burrow-" he paused, correcting himself, "Baby Hubbard Hubbard-Burrow, whatever you call him. Could use a nice breakfast before your appointment." He finished, that sincere smile still on his face. You smiled sweetly at him, "That's really nice of you, but you didn't have to do that."

"Yeah I did," Tee nodded, picking up a piece of bacon and popping it into his mouth as he put two perfectly prepared pancakes onto your empty plate. "You've been through a lot these last couple days, it's the least I could do."

Tee has been such great company these past few days. He's always there for you, whether it's for a shoulder to cry on or to indulge in your cravings with you. Tee is truly a great friend, and you are so thankful to have him with you during a time like this.

You put a generous amount of butter and syrup on your pancakes as you replied. "I should be the one doing this for you Tee," you said, gesturing to the plethora of breakfast foods sitting on the kitchen counter. "You're the one that's letting me stay with you for so long, taking care of me and making sure I'm OK."

Tee sat down across from you, smiling softly as he said, "Y/n, it's nothing. I know you'd do the same for me, plus," he gestured over to you, "I had to make sure my nephew was taken care of."

A small smile pulled at your lips. This baby was already so loved by so many. You were extremely thankful that your baby boy was surrounded by so many great people that were excited to be his honorary uncles.

"Well, thank you," you placed your hands on your swollen tummy, "He and I appreciate it very much." Tee smiled, "You're welcome. Now, finish your breakfast. You've got an important appointment in less than hour." You chuckled slightly at Tee's command, not hesitating at all to dig in to the delicious breakfast that he had prepared for you this morning.

After you finished up your breakfast with Tee, you brushed your teeth and came back downstairs, going into the entryway to put your shoes on. As you walked past the kitchen, Tee followed you to the entryway of his home, leaning against a wall and crossing his arms over his chest as he watched you slide your shoes on.

“You sure you don’t want me to go with you?”

You shook your head, smiling softly at him, “I’m sure. I told Joe he could go, so I won’t be alone.” Tee raised his eyebrows at your words. “You sure that’s a good idea, Y/n?”

Not really. You think to yourself.

“I don’t know. I wasn’t going to let him go, but he guilted me into saying yes.” Tee furrowed his brows this time at your words. “He guilted you?”

“Yeah.”

“How did he guilt you?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, “He said it was his baby too and he that he deserves to be there. Plus, he referred to the baby as Peanut,” a small frown etched its way onto your face, “Joe hasn’t called the baby Peanut in months and it made me feel guilty I guess.”

Tee just hummed at your words. He glanced at his phone and pointed at the door.

“You might want to get going.”

You smiled, “Yeah, I will.” You walked up to Tee and got up on your toes, placing a soft kiss to his cheek. It was purely platonic—something you’ve done many times to Tee and Ja’Marr when you say goodbye or before you say something sentimental. You pulled your head away from Tee, a smile on your face as you again thanked him sincerely.

“Thank you for everything you’ve done for me these past couple days, Tee. You’re a great friend, I appreciate it.”

Tee smiled and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a hug. He squeezed you gently as he said, “Of course. Anything for you and the little man.”

You pulled away from Tee, both of you wearing smiles as you looked at each other. You said goodbye and told him you’d be back later, unsure on a time since you didn’t know how long your appointment would be today. You left the house and got into your car, plugging in your phone and turning on your favorite artist as you drove to your OB appointment.

When you pulled into the parking lot of the doctors office, you immediately noticed Joe’s car parked in his usual spot in the parking lot. A small smile pulled at the corners of your mouth as you looked at the car parked in the spot. He called it his spot at your doctors office since he always parked there so you didn’t have to walk a long ways. You parked and took a deep breath as you unbuckled your seatbelt and got out of the car. You walked into the doctors office, smiling at the nurse that sat at the front desk.

“Hi Y/n,” she smiled, “You’re all checked in.”

You smiled and thanked her, slightly confused at how you were already checked in—until you saw Joe, who perked up in his chair at the sound of your name being said. He must've checked you win already. The two of you made eye contact, his blue eyes locking with yours made your breath hitch in the back of your throat. You hadn’t seen Joe in days. As much as you were upset with him, you couldn’t deny that it felt good to see him. You hated to admit it, but you did miss him a lot. Your baby boy did too. Both of you had a hard time sleeping at night without Joe being around. Your unborn son would only calm down at night if Joe talked to your belly. Something about the sound of his daddy’s voice calmed your baby, and it calmed you, too.

Joe smiled softly at you as you sat down in the chair next to him in the waiting room. You returned the smile as an awkward silence fell between the two of you. Neither one of you really knew what to say to the other. Joe soon broke the silence with a simple hello.

“Hi Y/n.” He said softly, “It’s good to see you.”

“Hi.” was all you said as you looked over at him. Joe rubbed his palms on his shorts as his eyes trailed down your body, stopping once they got to your tummy. You watched his chest rise as he took a deep breath. You could tell he wanted to reach out and greet the baby he hasn’t talked to or felt move in days, but he held himself back. Joe’s eyes moved back up to yours, the two of you sharing so many unspoken words just from one look. Joe was about to say something when a nurse came out from the back and called your name.

“Y/n Hubbard?” She called out, eyes looking around the waiting room. A wide grin grew on her face as her kind eyes landed on you. You stood up and returned the smile, following her out of the waiting room. You got to the doorway that lead into the hallway when your footsteps suddenly stopped. You felt a pang of guilt as you turned around and noticed Joe was still sitting in the chair, his shoulders slumping slightly as he watched you walk away from him. You took a breath as you prepared yourself for what you were going to say to him.

“You can come too.” You said softly. His blue eyes lit up as he sat up in his chair. “R-really?” he asked, sounding taken aback by your words. You nodded, a small smile pulling at your lips. “Yeah.” Joe couldn’t help the hopeful smile that appeared on his face as he stood from the chair. His eyes welled up with tears and his chin quivered slightly as he walked up to you. Joe was filled so many overwhelming emotions right now. He didn’t think you’d want him in the room with you, but he was so happy you allowed him to. You could tell he was trying to hold back tears—which he successfully did, but you knew him being in the room with you today was totally unexpected for him.

You and Joe followed the nurse back to the room. Joe couldn’t keep his eyes off of you as the nurse took your vitals. He was so happy you let him come to appointment today despite everything that’s happened, but he was even more happy that you let him be in the room with you.

“Doctor Montgomery will be in shortly.” The nurse said with a curt nod. You smiled and thanked her before she walked out of the room, Joe doing the same.

Once the door latched, you looked over at Joe. Being in the same room as him again and looking into his beautiful blues made you feel so guilty. Guilty for the way you reacted when he got home, and guilty for how you’ve been treating him the last couple of days. You never gave him a chance to explain himself or the photos. It took you a couple days of sulking to realize that you overreacted, and that you were in the wrong in this situation. You should have never accused him of the terrible things you had accused him of. You should have given him the chance to explain himself before you stormed out. You felt terrible, and you knew Joe deserved an apology from you. You just hoped he would accept it. You hurt him a lot more than you thought you did.

“Joe,” you said softly, “I’m sorry.”

Joe shook his head, wetting his lips before he spoke quietly, “Let’s not talk about it right now.” Your heart dropped with disappointment. However, you nodded in agreement at his words. You could talk about it another time. The doctors office isn’t the place and now is definitely not the time to have a serious conversation like the one you needed to have. The two of you sat in silence as you waited for Doctor Montgomery to enter the room. A couple minutes passed before you heard a knock on the door. Doctor Montgomery entered the room, smiling widely as she greeted both you and Joe. She sat down in the chair and put hand sanitizer on her hands, rubbing them together as she spoke.

“How have you been Y/n? Feeling good?”

“I’ve been great,” you smiled, putting a hand on your bump, “baby boy and I are happy and feeling good.”

“Great.” she said with a sweet smile as she reached over to grab her clip board. “Today should be an easy appointment. No ultrasound today, but we will be listening to his heartbeat.”

You and Joe smiled. Hearing your baby boys heartbeat was always wonderful. It was such a comforting feeling, hearing your sons heartbeat. It always left you content knowing that he was safe and healthy in your womb.

Doctor Montgomery had you pull your sundress up so that she could put gel on your belly and find your unborn baby’s heartbeat with the fetal doppler. She put the wand over your lower belly, spreading out the gel as she searched for the baby’s heartbeat. You held your breath as you waited for the sound of the baby’s heartbeat to fill the room. As your OB moved the wand around to the left side of your lower bump, a loud whooshing sound came from the doppler. Wide grins appeared on all of your faces at the sound.

“There he is. Hi baby.” Doctor Montgomery cooed with a smile as she held the fetal doppler against your skin. Joe reached out to grab your hand, which you instantly grabbed and entwined your fingers with his. A smile pulled at his lips from the sound of his sons strong heartbeat and from your actions. Joe was so glad you weren’t pushing him away. He was hopeful that this appointment today would make things between the two of you better, and go back to the what they were before.

Doctor Montgomery took the doppler off of your belly and gave you a towel to wipe the gel off. After you wiped the gel off of your tummy, your OB took measurements of your bump, checking to see if you and your baby boy were growing at the rate you were supposed to.

“Everything looks and sounds perfect, guys. Y/n, you’re measuring a little small, but it’s nothing I am concerned about at all. Baby boy might be a little smaller than the two of you were anticipating.”

Joes face grew concerned at your doctors words. “How small is he measuring?”

“I originally estimated that he’d be around eight pounds when Y/n gives birth. But now I think he’ll be closer to seven.”

You and Joe nodded at her words. It's not much of a difference, but pushing out a seven pound baby sounds much better than pushing out an eight pound baby…

“Like I said,” she assured, “I’m not concerned at all. This is good news for you, Y/n.” You chuckled, pulling your dress back down. “Yes it is. Pushing a seven pound baby out of my girl parts sounds much better.”

Doctor Montgomery and Joe both chuckled at your statement. Your statement was true though. The rest of the appointment finished fairly quickly since there was no ultrasound. Soon after Doctor Montgomery left the room, you and Joe left the doctors office together. Joe walked you to your car, thanking you for letting him come into the room with you today. You sat down in the seat and just looked at Joe. The two of you staring at each other, feeling the tension grow between you as neither of you exchanged a word. Joe sighed deeply as he put his hands in his pockets.

“So, you going back to Tee’s?” He asked, voice quiet. You wet your lips and nodded, “Yeah.” Joe just nodded, his lips forming into a straight line. It broke his heart just a bit to hear that you were still going back to Tee’s after the interactions at your appointment today. While it made him a little disappointed, he was willing to wait. He was willing to wait for you when you were ready to come back home.

“Well,” he said, voice soft as he spoke. His eyes were locked on your belly momentarily before they traveled up to your eyes, “I’ll be waiting for you at home when you’re ready.” With that, Joe walked away from your car and over to his. You watched as he got in the drivers seat and shut the car door. Many thoughts pondered through your mind as you watched Joe drive away from the doctors office.

Seeing Joe today made you feel all sorts of emotions, the biggest being guilt. It made you wonder if you did the right thing by leaving so suddenly, and not even giving him a chance to explain himself. You sat in your car and thought about what to do.

Do you really want to go back to Tee’s?

Do you think you can go back to Joe’s? Should you go back to Joes now?

As you thought about what to do about your living situation for now, it hit you. Even if you were still a little upset, you needed to do the right thing—the right thing for you and your baby boy.

~time skip~

“Hold on, I’m coming!”

The door swung open, making your breath hitch as you made eye contact.

“Hi Joe.” you breathed out. His eyes widened in shock. He was surprised to see you at his door step. His mouth hung open slightly before he spoke. “Y/n, hi.”

You shifted awkwardly, “Can we talk?” Joe paused for a second, still in shock to see you at his doorstep. “Y-yeah,” he said, stepping aside, “Of course.”

You walked into the house, your suitcase trailing behind you. Joe smiled to himself as he turned around and shut the door. You showing back up with your suitcase was a good thing, maybe even a great thing. Joe locked the front door and followed behind you, reaching out for suitcase.

“Here, let me take that.”

You stopped walking and let go of the suitcase, letting Joe take a hold of it and take it upstairs for you. You followed behind him, going off in the opposite direction once you were upstairs. Joe went to put your suitcase in your room while you went into Joe’s room instead. You walked around his room, smiling to yourself as you noticed the pictures Joe had placed on his night stand. There was a picture of you and Joe from gender reveal, the two of you were grinning happily as you looked at the blue confetti surrounding you. The second picture was your favorite, it was an ultrasound photo from the night of Emmas baby shower. You traced your finger over the black and white silhouette of the baby.

“I look at that picture every night.”

You jumped slightly at the sudden sound of Joe’s voice. You pulled your finger away from the photo and turned around, smiling slightly at Joe.

“You do?” you asked, voice soft. Joe nodded, quirking a smile, “Yeah. Always reminds me that he’s OK and healthy.”

You hummed softly and sat down on Joe’s bed, a slight frown on your face as you looked at him. It felt good to be back home and with Joe again. However, you couldn’t help but still feel terrible for how you treated him the last couple of days. Joe crossed his arms and walked up to where you sat on the bed. He let out a sigh as he uncrossed his arms and slowly lowered himself onto the bed next to you. Both of you looked at each other at the same time. It was obvious that the two of you had many thoughts and words that you needed to share.

"Joe," you said softly, your eyes welling with tears, "I am so sorry." Joe nodded, acknowledging your apology. He cleared his throat before speaking wholeheartedly "I'm sorry too."

You shook your head, "You have nothing to be sorry for. I was the one that was overreacting. I accused you of awful things, and I believed stupid rumors I found on Instagram fan pages. I was the one that hurt you, Joe. You have nothing to be sorry for." You said, voice trailing off to a whisper. Joe frowned softly as he reached out to grab your hand, "It's my fault you felt like that for days, Y/n."

"No it's not, I overreacted." You said, voice growing quiet. "I saw those pictures of you and Alexis, and all I could think was that you didn't love me because you could have someone like her instead."

Joe frowned, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion, "What do you mean?" 

"Look at me Joe. I'm huge and I'm too emotional. I don't look like the girl you loved months ago." You said gesturing to your body.

Joe's frown deepened. How could you say things like that about yourself? In Joe's eyes, you were the most beautiful woman in the world. You always have been, and always will be. No one compares to you.

"Sweets, you're not huge. You're pregnant, your body has to grow a bit and make room for our baby. And you're not too emotional." he softly assured you, "all of this you're feeling is normal, Y/n."

You watched as Joe hesitantly brought a hand to the center of your belly. So many emotions were shining through his beautiful blues as he looked into your eyes. Your eyes showing the same emotions as you placed a hand on top of his. A small smile pulled at the corners of Joe's mouth.

"You're beautiful, Y/n. Even more now that you're pregnant with my baby."

You smiled softly at his words, making Joe's smile grow a bit more. He slowly rubbed your bump as he continued to pour his heart out and hopefully fix the situation he put the two of you in days ago. "For as long as I've known you, you've given me everything I could have asked for. I don't want someone 'like Alexis', when I already have someone like you."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you listened to Joe's words. All of the sadness and resentment you felt about him was completely gone now as you looked into those beautiful blues you loved so much.

"Let me make it up to you," Joe whispered, his eyes full of love as he gazed at you. He reached out and placed a hand on your leg, tracing his long fingers up to your bare thigh where the hem of your short dress was. He gently squeezed your thigh as he looked into your eyes, "Let me prove to you how I really feel about you, Y/n."

The mood in the room changed dramatically as the two of you could feel the emotional tension release and the sexual tension grow between you both. Your heart swelled as that familiar warmth pooled in your belly. You hadn't felt like this in months. The last time you felt this way with Joe was the night your baby boy was conceived... Speaking of your baby boy, as much as your body desperately wanted to be touched by Joe, you couldn't help but worry about what it may do to your unborn baby. Would it hurt him? Would it hurt you? Will it make you go into pre-term labor? What about bleeding? You cant go through that again.

"What about the baby?" you asked softly, voice growing worried, "I don't want to hurt him." Joe shook his head as he moved his hand off of your thigh and back to your bump. "He'll be fine mamas. I'll be gentle, promise." A sly smile pulled at his lips as he said those words. You just nodded softly, your nod giving Joe permission to show you how he really felt about you.

As you have a nod, Joe leaned forward, hovering his lips just over yours before he slowly brought his head down and crashed his plump lips to yours. The two of you immediately moving your mouths in sync as if it was second nature to both you and him. You haven't shared a moment like this in months. Your bodies were aching, dripping with desperation for the others touch. Joe pulled away from you and brushed the pad of his thumb across your cheek, gently wiping away the tear that rolled down your cheek.

"I love you Y/n." he whispered wholeheartedly. Your heart swelled with an overwhelming feeling of love as Joe gently pushed you against the mattress of his bed. He hovered over you once again as he brought a hand down to your shoulder. He rubbed his hand down the soft skin of your arm before bringing it back up to where the sleeve of your dress was. Joe pulled the sleeve down your arm just enough to expose your bare shoulder. He eyed you as he brought his lips down to your shoulder, sucking at the exposed skin. Your breath hitched as Joe moved from your shoulder to your chest and your neck, making sure to leave love bites as he moved to each location. Joe's hands toyed with the neckline of your dress as he pulled away from you. His lustrous eyes showed an intense gaze as he looked down at you. His body language begging for you to let him take the little sundress off of your body.

"Take it off, please." You breathed out, your quiet voice desperate as you spoke. Joe eyed you as he gently pulled the blue sundress down your body. His blue eyes trailed down your body as he took in your changing features since the last time he's seen you in such an intimate setting.

Your previous flat tummy was now round with a twenty week baby bump, a bump that he put there. A bump that he loved so much. Your breasts had swelled a couple sizes bigger since the last time he's seen them, too. They fit your body perfectly, even more than they did before. Joe felt a sense of pride as he took in your new features. Your body, the body of the woman he loved, was preparing for the baby boy—his baby boy growing in your belly. It was a sight that made Joe's excitement grow more and more.

"You are so beautiful," Joe purred as he hesitantly took his eyes off of your growing belly. You blushed deeply as Joe smirked and pushed your body down onto the bed, careful not to be too harsh with his movements. He didn't want to hurt you or his baby. He's done that enough the past few days.

Your breath hitched as Joe placed his hands on both sides of your baby bump as he started to generously suck and kiss at the buds on your swollen breasts. You whimpered involuntarily at the feeling of his tongue moving against the sensitive area. Joe pulled his mouth away from your breast with a pop. His face growing with concern as he brought all of his attention onto you, making sure you were OK. "Did I hurt you?"

You hastily shook your head no. "Feels good," you said, "Really good."

Joe smirked slightly and went back to loving on your breasts. He made sure to swirl his tongue over your darkening nipples before he took each one in his mouth, sucking on the bud generously before releasing his mouth with a gentle pop. After loving on your breasts, Joe left a trail of kisses from the center of your chest and down your swollen tummy. As he left a gentle kiss just above your belly button, the baby kicked at the contact of the Joe's lips. A wide grin pulled at his lips as he chuckled softly.

"Hey little man," Joe whispered into your skin before leaving another gentle kiss to the same spot he did before, “I’ve missed you so much.” You couldn't help but smile as you watched Joe communicate with his son while he showed you how much you meant to him. All of the anger and sadness you felt toward Joe was completely gone, and taken over by nothing but love and pure happiness.

Joe brought his head up to yours, gently smashing his lips onto yours. The two of you kissed passionately as your hands found their way up to Joe's slightly grown out, dark blonde waves. You tugged gently at his hair as your mouths moved in sync. Joe groaned against your lips at the feeling of your soft hands pulling his hair. You brought a hand away from Joe's hair, letting it slowly trail down his broad, muscular back before you hooked your finger under the hem of Joe's Bengals t-shirt. You tugged at the material of the shirt as Joe pulled away from you, gently tugging your bottom lip with his teeth as he detached his lips from yours. He smirked down at your figure laying underneath him as he took his shirt off in one swift motion, doing the same with his shorts. Both you and Joe were left in nothing but your undergarments, which those too, were removed shortly after Joe took his articles of clothing off.

Joe gazed down at your bare body, making sure to keep his gaze longer on all of his favorite parts of your body.

Your eyes...your lips...your breasts...your baby bump... your legs.

Joes intense gaze made you shy away, your hands immediately covering your swollen breasts while you clenched your legs together to hide your most intimate area. Joe gently pulled your arms away from your breasts, shaking his head at you.

"Don't shy away from me Y/n," he leaned down to kiss your breasts before he kissed your lips, "you're beautiful." You smiled and brought your hands up to his back, your nails slowly digging into his tan skin as he moved his head down to your dripping core. He maintained eye contact with you as he licked a stripe up your folds, teasing you, making you moan in pleasure and beg for more.

"Mph, Joe..." you whimpered out, "please.”

Joe chuckled as he moved his face away from your bottom half. He moved back up so he was face to face with you. He looked at you with a look of love as he spoke softly.

"If you want me to stop, just tell me OK?" You just nodded. Enough of the talking, you needed him badly.

Joe placed a kiss on your nose, making you smile sweetly up at him. His hand brushed over your belly as he positioned himself against you, lining up his erection with your entrance. He maintained eye contact with you as he pushed himself into your wet folds, the sounds of your small whimpers and moans filling the bedroom from the intimate skin on skin contact. Neither you nor Joe have been touched like this in months.

As Joe thrusted into your hips, your nails scratched down his bare back, leaving just the slightest hint of red scratch marks on his light skin. Your breathing quickens as his thrusts grew deeper. You were a whimpering mess underneath Joe. He couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips as his ears filled with the sounds of pleasure you were making. Joe loved the sounds you made...

Joe's thrusts continued as both of you had beads of sweat dripping down your face and your body. The sounds and smell of sex was quickly filling the room. As Joe made love to you, he kept his blue eyes glued on yours, constantly praising you. He praised you for how well you were taking him.

"You're taking me so well, sweets." You moaned as your hands tugged at his unruly waves with each thrust Joe took. "That's it..." He grunted out.

Joe reminded you how much he loved you, and how much he loved your body—especially your bump. Joe was making you feel like the only girl in the world.

Joes thrusts grew deeper to the point where he was hitting your cervix, each thrust making you whisper in pleasure and beg for more. You could feel a familiar warmth pool in your belly as your chest rose and fell with each shaky breath you took.

"Joe," you moaned out, "I'm so close." Joe nodded, letting out a light moan as he spoke, "That's it," he thrusted again, placing a hand on your tummy, "cum for me, mamas."

Joe maintained eye contact as he slowly reached out to grab your hand with his, the two of you lacing your fingers together as you rode out your high and came down on his manhood. You squeezed each others hands as your face contorted into a look of pleasure as you came. Your moans soft as you were in a complete state of bliss from being fucked by Joe. Soon after you came, Joe did too as your bodies moved in sync. The two of you together in this intimacy just came naturally. You knew Joe's body and he knew yours just as well. The two of you sharing moments like this was like it was meant to be.

Joe buried his face into your neck and grunted as he came inside of you. His cum mixing with your own, dripping out of your folds and onto the bedsheets beneath you. The two of you stayed entwined together, your hands interlocked and foreheads touching as you both caught your breath and recovered from your intense orgasms.

“I love you Joe.” You said as your chest was still heaving with each breath you took. “I love you too.” He said, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. Joe pulled himself away from you, getting out of bed and sloping his underwear on. He walked into his bathroom and grabbed a washcloth, bringing it out and cleaning you up between your legs—which you were extremely grateful for. After cleaning you off, he leaned down to gently kiss your belly, your baby boy kicking in return. The action made both of you and Joe chuckle happily. Joe tossed you your panties and crawled back into bed next to you. He wrapped his muscular arms around your body, placing his hands on your swollen tummy. Oh how he missed this…

“I’m glad you’re back home, Y/n. I missed you and baby boy so much.”

You smiled, “I know. We missed you too.” You turned around in Joe’s embrace, taking in all of his features. His blue eyes, his button nose, his pink lips. You loved all of Joe’s features just as much as he loved yours.

“Can I stay here with you tonight?” You asked, voice hopeful as you asked your question, “I missed you Joe.”

Joe kissed your forehead making your heart swell, “Of course, you don’t have to ask.” He spoke softly.

You smiled and turned back around, snuggling yourself further into Joe’s warm and comforting body. The two of you hummed contently, happy to be in each others arms after being away from each other for so long.

You still had to discuss things with Joe, but you knew that could wait for the morning after. For now, you were going to enjoy the moment of being back in your home with your favorite person laying next to you while the two of you—from the outside of course, embraced the baby growing in your belly.

hey loves!!

so y/n and joe have made up (in multiple ways😉) and the angst fest is over!! yay!

well, its over for now…

we’ve still got over a little less than 30 chapters left, and they can’t all be fluff can they? we’ve got a lot to get through babes. i hope you’re all up for everything i’ve got in store for ya!😉

i apologize if the smut was cringe, i’m not the best smut writer in the world lol. but we needed some more in the story and i thought this would be the PERFECT chapter for it because who doesn’t love some lil makeup sex in a story?!

anyways, i hope you all enjoyed this chapter!! i’ll have more coming soon. thank you for your continued love and support with me and this series!! i love and appreciate every single one of you☺️🤍 also, thank you for being patient with me with this update today. i had things come up throughout the day where it made it difficult for me to write, so that’s why this update is super late today. i promise the next one will be earlier!

tags: @dandelionwrites8 @joeburreauxsworld @theflawedwriter @mrsshiesty @ann288 @ijustcrypretty @theoneandonlyfanz @wickedfun9 @venus-b @hummusxx @stainednailpolishremover @a-moment-captured @alternativemadchen @erinmartin1987 @sirlewisworld @kkrenae @unhingedfangirl @sublimemusic-rebel @meameagirl @ilovejoeburroww @hallecarey1 @j-worlds-blog @blinkloverx3 @jordyn14 @kristencochefski1125 @ryiamarie @unsaidjaelinrose @sinners-98-world @ozwriterchick @evernova @fangirl-madz @jackharloww @fantasywritersstuff @emherb10

[callalillywrites]

Their Sweet Omega 3

Part 2 / Part 4 / Series Masterlist

This picks up right where Part 2 ends. I can't believe we're almost through with the main story. I'm a little sad. Good thing I have a growing list of one-shot slice-of-life fics I'm going to add as soon as I can for these three. They really do own my heart right now.

Relationship: Alpha!Jake Jensen / Beta!Pre-serum Steve Rogers / Omega!Reader

Word Count: ~1600

Summary: Omega spends some quality time with Jake and Steve, including their first sleepover together.

Warnings: nothing too drastic, still soft Jake, some insecurity on Steve's part, mostly fluff

A/N: It’s proofread but all mistakes are my own.

I do not give permission for my work to be copied or posted on other sites or fed into an AI machine.

*****

Jake can’t remember the last time he had so much fun, and he’s not about ready to see it end when he and Omega set their consoles down. He’s determined to do everything to draw it out to keep her in their company a little while longer. It helps that this is the most peaceful he’s seen Steve sleep after an asthma attack in forever.

“Hungry?”

She nods.

He stops her from getting up, not wanting Steve to wake. Hurrying towards the kitchen, he pulls the soup she’d made from the fridge and places it in a saucepan to reheat it properly. While it reaches a boil, he pulls out the griddle pan he bought ages ago, then retrieves the makings for some grilled cheeses.

While he works in the kitchen, Omega resumes her gentle ministrations through Steve’s hair, slowly stirring him awake. She’s aided by the delicious smells coming from the kitchen as his stomach grumbles from lack of food.

“I didn’t dream you,” he mumbles happily, rubbing at his eyes as he tries to shake the sleep from his system.

Omega grins down at him. “No, you didn’t dream me. Feeling any better?”

Steve turns his head so he can nuzzle against her stomach, his arms tightening their hold around her. “Much better with you here.”

The deep shadows under his eyes seem to have lessened when she manages to sneak a peek at them. He certainly seems a bit stronger with how tight his grip is around her waist, not willing to let her move for the time being. It’s a good thing she’s happy where she is.

When Jake reappears with their food on a tray, his face splits into a grin as well, seeing Steve’s eyes open and a bit more alert than they’d been earlier that day. “Hey, sleepyhead. Food’s ready. Think you can sit up and eat some?”

Steve immediately shakes his head. “Too comfy.”

Omega bites back a giggle at his antics, a little surprised but no less pleased by this side of Steve who’s usually far more reserved than Jake.

The perfect compromise comes in her ripping off small bites of the sandwiches Jake made and feeding them to Steve where he continues to rest in his original position. It’s only when Jake insists Steve have a few bites of the soup Omega made that Steve finally pushes to a sitting position, uncaring of the creases along his cheeks from his hours-long nap.

Both spend a few minutes praising her for her culinary talents though Steve doesn’t quite finish off his bowl like Jake does. He’s already ready to go back to sleep by the time Jake retrieves all the dishes and returns them to the kitchen for cleaning. He happily dives back into Omega’s embrace when she pats her lap. He’s dozing again by the time Jake returns.

When he does, Omega offers up the idea of a movie while Steve gets a bit more shuteye. She’s not any readier to end the night, either. She’s enjoying this quiet time with them.

Jake soon digs through the small collection she’s brought with them and settles on one of his favorites from the pile, loving the fact she has similar tastes to him and Steve in movies, too. He pops it into the player and asks if she needs anything before he hits play.

Rather than sink into the chair by the sofa, Jake shifts Steve’s legs until he has them in his lap, rubbing at Steve’s calves and hip. He reaches behind them to turn the lights off while the movie plays. Every so often, he’ll catch a whiff of Omega’s scent and find himself leaning closer to her.

Unknown to him, she’s doing her best to scoot a bit closer to him without disturbing Steve and his slumber. She’s just as enticed by his comforting scent.

They eventually meet in the middle with her head resting on his shoulder and his on top of hers. Steve hums but never actually wakes though he seems to have realized their intent and moved himself as well to accommodate them while staying put.

At one point during the movie, Jake whispers, “Stay with us tonight?”

“Okay.”

No argument. No hesitation. Just pure agreement and acceptance.

Jake releases the breath he’s holding, sinking deeper into the couch. His free arm leaves the back of the couch and wraps around her shoulders, tugging her slightly closer. He presses a kiss to her hair and tries not to purr his satisfaction. No sense in ruining the movie though it doesn’t stop a few rumbles from coming through. He just hopes that Omega doesn’t notice when they do.

She does, but she keeps that to herself, hiding her pleased smile.

When the movie comes to an end, Omega is doing her best to stifle her yawns. The day hasn’t been hard at all, but she got up earlier than usual to work on a large order. It’s beginning to take a toll on her.

Sensing her tiredness, Jake nudges Steve awake and helps him to his feet. “Come on, Bubba. Time for bed for both of you.”

“You, too,” Steve grumbles.

Jake simply shakes his head. “Me, too, Bubba. Come on. Gotta get our angel set for the night.”

Steve softly cheers at the thought of Omega staying the night with them, already asking her to sleep in the middle. “It’s not fair if I get her all to myself. Already got more cuddles than you. Fair is fair.”

Omega covers her mouth to hide her amusement at Steve’s words. It’s nice to hear how much they care about each other and by extension herself as she follows them into their bedroom.

“You sleeping in what you got on, Bubba, or you want a change of clothes?”

“Too much effort,” Steve says already leaning toward the big bed in the center of the room.

Jake stops him from getting too far. “Oh, no, you don’t. You don’t have to change, but you do need to brush your teeth. You can do that, Bubba. I know you can.”

A huff answers him, but it’s enough to satisfy Jake as he hauls Steve into the bathroom and sets up his toothbrush, leaving him temporarily on the toilet lid.

He hurries to gather up a change of clothes and a spare toothbrush for Omega, not wanting to leave Steve alone too long.

“Just let me get Steve done and then it’s all yours.”

True to his word, he has Steve out of the bathroom in a few minutes, leaving the door open for her to head in. She doesn’t hesitate when she overhears Steve asking if she’s really staying. He adds how much he really wants her to stay, not recalling what he said earlier about sharing her with Jake. The poor thing is still so exhausted, and she’s eager to give him a few more cuddles in the hopes of helping him.

Not wasting a moment, she hurries to put on the borrowed clothes and brush her teeth. She washes her face with some of the face wash she finds on the counter, removing what little makeup she has on. Satisfied with her efforts, she returns to the room to find Jake sitting on the bed’s edge.

“Beautiful,” he whispers before pushing to his feet. He slows her progress to press a kiss to her hair before stepping into the bathroom and closing the door.

Steve’s already in the bed on what must be his side based on the items she could make out on his side table. His eyes are hooded though he’s still clinging to consciousness as best he can to see her settle in the bed next to him.

A slight pout forms when he spots the clothing that she’s wearing though he does admit aloud, “Jake’s clothes look good on you. Mine are too small. I’m too small.”

“You, sweet Beta, are perfect the way you are. If I can’t wear your clothes, I’m sure we can find something I can wear to show I’m yours.”

“Are you ours?” he asks, his brows knitting while fighting off sleep.

She presses a chaste kiss to his lips. “You and Jake are mine, and I’m yours. When you’re feeling better, I’ll even prove it by letting you mark me.”

“Hm, I like the sound of that,” Steve says, scooting in close enough to nuzzle at her neck. He inhales deeply at her scent gland before allowing sleep to claim him again. His arm moves over her waist and tugs her until there’s barely an inch of space between them.

“Sleep well, Stevie. Love you, my precious Beta.”

All she hears is a soft hum in return.

She jumps when a warm body settles against her back, momentarily forgetting about Jake while watching Steve fall asleep.

“Sorry, angel. Didn’t mean to scare you,” Jake says, instantly backing away.

She grabs his arm and tugs him towards her. “You can never scare me, Alpha. I know I’m safe with you. Just got a little lost in thought, I guess.”

“Always here if you want to talk, angel, about anything.”

Jake settles along her back, his arm going around her waist while his face nuzzled along the opposite side of her neck from Steve’s current position. Like Steve, he inhales a deep whiff of her scent gland and moans his approval.

“I know,” she whispers, turning her head to meet his earnest expression. “I love you, Jake.”

The smile that blooms across his face can barely be contained as he leans forward and captures her lips in a kiss that leaves her dizzy with promise.

*****

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