the sweet smell of bacon

Fly Me To The Moon

You woke up to the sweet smell of bacon coming from the kitchen.  Your eyes darted open and you quickly jumped out of bed, running downstairs to eat.  Frost was cooking away at the stove in his suit. Well that’s not what I was expecting. You thought to yourself.  You secretly hoped J would be the one preparing you a huge breakfast, but you knew that would never happen.

“Good morning Y/N.” Frost said casually as if nothing was strange about this scene.  

“Good morning Frosty….Can I ask why you’re cooking all this?  I mean, it’s nice and all but this is definitely not part of your job description….”  Seeing Frost first thing in the morning making you a feast for breakfast was certainly never something you thought you’d witness.

“Well,” Frost spoke as he flipped a pancake expertly, “Mr. J is going to be very busy today, and he instructed me to make sure you’re taken care of while he’s out.  I figured I’d start with feeding you, so here I am.” Frost smiled, another thing you never thought you’d witness.

“I can’t argue with J’s orders.” You said giving Frost a wink.  You walked up to the large kitchen island and hopped up on one of the stools while Frost began to lay the food out in front of you.  Pancakes, bacon, eggs, hash browns, fresh orange juice, Frost really went overboard.  Not wanting to wait another minute, you grabbed your fork and started scarfing down the food.

“Whoa, it’s like you don’t eat, you just inhale.” Frost said Jokingly.

“Ha-ha very funny Frosty,” You spoke between bites, “I don’t have any plans for the rest of the day so I was thinking I’d just clean up around the house.  You can take a few hours to go out and do whatever you need to do if you want.”

Frost worked constantly, J never gave him any time off.  You figured you were just going to stay home all day and do some housework, so there was no reason Frost needed to be watching you.  Not to mention he deserved a few hours to himself.

“I don’t know Y/N, boss told me to keep an eye on you-”

“Frost, you can be back before J and I won’t tell him.  It can be our little secret.  Go enjoy yourself.” You smiled and continued eating as Frost gave you a small nod of appreciation and walked out of the room.

After eating practically everything and stuffing yourself to the brim, you decided it was best to get the day going.  You went up to your shared master bathroom and took a quick shower before walking into your massive closet to pick out something to wear.  Hmmmm what to wear, what you wear….You thought to yourself before flashing a cheeky smile and picking up your favorite shirt of J’s.  It was just a white button up dress shirt, but it was always perfectly ironed and soft.  On you it was practically a dress so you figured that was a good enough outfit and made your way back downstairs to get to cleaning.  You were never much of an organizer growing up; however, with all the madness going on in the mansion all the time, you began to find it therapeutic.

Walking into the living room, you noticed that it needed some work.  The house was always pretty clean as the maids took care of all the vacuuming and dusting; however, the henchmen and J had a tendency to never put things back in their place after using them.  Well if I’m gunna get the organizing party going, I better put on some music. You walked up to the stereo system and just pressed play.  “Fly Me to the Moon” by Frank Sinatra started playing throughout the whole downstairs.  J is such an oldie when it comes to music. You smiled thinking about him.

You got to work picking up after the henchmen and J, getting lost in the music as you did so.  You swayed your hips back and forth, dancing around the room.

You lost track of time and didn’t realize how long it had been since you started until you turned around and immediately gasped as you saw J standing behind the couch watching you with his silver grin.

“Well, well, well….what do we have here.” He growled, trying to contain a laugh.  You were so embarrassed and you felt your cheeks heating up.  You could only imagine how silly this looked and you couldn’t find any words.

J put you out of your misery by speaking up again, “I like your shirt, I wonder where you got that from.” He made his way slowly around the couch, walking up to you as he reached out and pulled you closer to him by the white fabric.

“I figured you’d be gone a while so I’d get some cleaning done….” You whispered, still feeling shy from being caught.

“You’re quite the dancer Y/N, I might have to put you in one of the cages next time we’re at the club….but then again, I don’t want anyone else lusting after you.” Always so possessive, I love it.

J smirked as if he could read your mind before looking deep in your eyes and beginning to unbutton your shirt, “You have five minutes to get upstairs and in bed, doll.  Daddy needs to remind you how to be a good girl and not take my things.”

I guess I need to wear his clothes more often. 

The Silent One - Part Thirteen

You can find the other parts of this story and my Masterlist HERE!

Synopsis: Negan makes your breakfast and thinks about what he’d got himself into

Ships: Negan x Reader (the slowest burn)
Words: 1,480
Warnings: Curses

When you woke up you stayed still and kept your breathing steady. You could feel the piece of paper which held the note you had received earlier than night in the back pocket of your shorts. You could hear the sound of sizzling from the kitchen that lay behind the couch that you were currently curled up on. You smelt the sweet smell of bacon. You felt your stomach rumble loudly like a growling lion. You cautiously sat up, very much aware of your puffy red eyes.

You turned around slowly to see the tall, lean form of Negan. He had his back turned to you as he whistled a tune happily under his breath. In one hand he had a china plate with blue patterns lacing through it and in the other, leather clad, hand he held a frying pan which the sizzling sound was emanating from.

Keep reading

When Sam and Dean return to the bunker after a long fight, bandaged and bruised, Cas is there to greet them. Dean walks straight into his arms and collapses, silent, and the angel slips his fingers through brown strands of hair, whispering calming sounds into the older Winchester’s ear.

They don’t say anything.

And later, when Sam passes by Dean’s room, the door open and ajar, and peeks in to see the angel curled up next to his brother, trenchcoat laid haphazardly over them both, he just shuts the door and thinks about how tangled their legs were, and how at peace Dean finally looked.

He doesn’t say anything.

A few days later, Sam wakes up to the smell of eggs, bacon, and something sweet. He stumbles into the kitchen, hair a mess and barefoot, to see Deansmiling. Genuinely smiling, with no broken pain hidden behind those pearly white teeth or no aching heart behind those bright green eyes. His arm is on Castiel’s, demonstrating by physically showing him how to properly flip a pancake as not to splatter the batter everywhere. Their touch lingers before he pulls away to greet Sam.

He doesn’t say anything.

It’s winter now, and Sam wakes up in the middle of the night, mouth parched, only to find the pair he’d been travelling with dancing slowly in the dark to some Christmas song – probably put on by Cas – with steaming mugs of hot cocoa left on the counter, forgotten about. He stares for a bit, then smiles, and walks right back to his room.

The next day, he doesn’t say anything.

Cas loses his grace, and everything gets quiet. None of them speak much anymore, though the battle they had long fought was won recently. Sam tries to help Cas, but nothing seems to work, and every now and then he can hear the ex-angel crying into his brother’s shoulder. He believes he even sees Dean kiss his forehead every now and then, rubbing his back as he shows him the finer things in humanity.

They don’t say anything.

Sam has a dog now, a border collie that is a year old. On the way out, he passes by Dean’s room, door closed, and hears familiar noises coming from within. He figures Dean must really be teaching Cas the “finer things” of humanity, and grins on his way out, happy for the unestablished couple.

He doesn’t say anything.

Dean shows him a ring, small and silver, with two dates etched into the inside. One was the day he and Cas had met, their relationship rough and hostile. The other was the day that Sam assumed they confessed to each other, the day they realized how hard it is to find what they had in this life and threw away all their qualms with the subject. Sam congratulates him, promising to support him all the way. Cas walks in and the box is shoved in a pocket, and beer on the table is drank.

They don’t say anything.

He proposes, and it’s accepted with a teary-eyed Cas, who still doesn’t quite understand the concept of marriage (but Dean promises to explain it). Nonetheless, the two are happily engaged, matching silver bands on their ring fingers. Sam watches them leave for bed early, closing the door behind them with drunken giggles from the used champagne glasses that lay on the table.

He doesn’t say anything.

Not many people show, after all most are six feet in the ground by now, but the wedding is nice nonetheless. Flowers of all kinds are assorted amongst white cloths, and a pastor has them repeat their vows. Sam is the best man, so of course he has the best position: standing right beside Dean as his two companions declare the marriage official with a kiss. And this time, he hears it. The three special words.

“I love you.”

Years later he is sitting in his front yard, the same border collie laying next to him. He eyes the red shirt walking up his driveway, and a man in black following behind. He greets Dean and Cas, and they talk for hours, eating TV dinners and drinking beer and watching a re-run of some cop show, just like the old days. They reminisce and look back on their lives, thinking about the past and how far they have come. And finally, Sam takes a breath, smiles at the two, and says it.

“I’m proud of us.”

Banana Pancakes

Banana Pancakes
Pairing: Bucky/reader.
Warnings: Swearing.
I got the idea for this while listening to a Bucky playlist on 8tracks. Will link when I get on a computer.


Bucky wakes up in a bedroom he doesn’t recognize. His body goes tense, he’s alert and looking around for clues. He hears upbeat music coming from somewhere. He can also smell coffee, bacon, and something sweet. This confuses him. He looks to the nightstand and sees a picture of himself with a woman. They are both smiling and have their arms wrapped around each other. He can’t remember her name. He doesn’t remember meeting her. Who the hell is she? Is this some kind of trick or dream?

If it was a dream he wouldn’t have a metal arm, he thinks as he looks down at his shirtless body. Maybe it’s a nightmare then.

“Fuck!” He hears a woman yell.

He jumps up out of bed and runs to find out what caused the noise.

“Fucking, fuck you, you fucking evil bacon grease.” He sees the woman from the picture scold the pan full of sizzling bacon while she runs her arm under cold water.

He continues to stand there and watch her from a few feet away. She hasn’t seen him yet. She turns off the faucet, dries off her arm, and then returns to cooking. He watches as she flips some pancakes onto a plate that has a pile of bacon on it. She’s humming along to the music and shaking her bum when the song ends and switches to something more mellow. A song that almost sounds familiar, something about staying in on a rainy day.

He can’t help but smile. She’s adorable and seems harmless. He wishes he could remember her. What is her name? What IS it? He’s so frustrated with himself. He looks to the wall where there are more pictures of them together. Sometimes Steve is in the pictures. In one, it looks like they are outside while it’s snowing and Bucky has his hands on her face while he is kissing her. The picture was taken on Bucky’s left side, his metal hand gently holding her face.

This only confuses him more. He’s clearly comfortable enough with her to not hide his metal arm and to touch her with that hand. But he can’t remember anything about her. He knows he’s been with Steve, he remembers Steve and the Avengers. But he can’t remember this woman who must be important to him. He starts to relax, even in his frustration. It’ll…come back. The memories will come back…right?

Then there is a scream and he is back in his defensive mode.

“Oh, sweet Jesus Bucky. How long have you been standing there?” She says as she clutches her heart. “I was just about to wake you for breakfast. I guess the smell of bacon worked though.”

She’s chuckling and smiling at him brightly. But when he looks at her…he’s so confused. The only thing showing on his face is his struggle to remember. “Bucky? Rough morning?” She asks gently, slowly approaching him.

He backs away, not sure if he can trust himself or her. “Who are you?” He asks, his hand held in front of him in warning.

“Your girlfriend. Y/n.” She says, continuing her calming tone. “I made you banana pancakes, you’re favorite.”

His eyes flicked to the food, then the wall, then back to her. This was…starting to seem familiar. “Do you remember last night?” She asks.

He shuts his eyes and thinks. It feels like all there is is blackness and he’s so lost. He’s so lost and he can’t find his way to any kind of light. He puts his face in his hands and groans in frustration.

After a moment he feels a very soft, tentative, touch on his flesh arm. The touch brings him back, the feel of a slim piece of metal on her one of her fingers. Suddenly his heart is racing but not in fear. Flashes come back, memories, not just from last night. Old memories of being with her and Steve. They went to movies, to a bar, to the park. He walked with her through the park all the time, he remembered.

Last night the two of them had gone out to eat and walked through the park as usual. Bucky had planned something special, something that had taken help from his friends. They’d decorated an area in the park, where Bucky and y/n always ended up sitting and talking for a while. The area was decorated with white fairy lights and flowers. Sam had set up music for them. A playlist of their favorite songs to dance together to.

“I remember.” He says as he lowers his hands. “I remember…”

“Good.” she says and wraps her arms around his middle, breathing deeply.

He catches a flash of the ring on her left hand. The memory was right, last night was real. “You aren’t my girlfriend.” he says as he gently drapes his arms over her short frame.

“Well, yeah, true. My bad, I’m your fiance.” she says, looking up at him with a beaming smile before burying her face into his chest.

“Pancakes.” He says.

“Mhmm.” she hums against him.

“No, I mean, they’re gonna burn.”

“What? Oh shit!” she exclaims as she lets him go and runs back to the stove. “Only a little crisp. At least these were the last ones.” She huffs as she pulls off the last pancakes.

It’s all come back to him, every detail. He gives her a broad smile and goes to grab his plate, the one piled high with bacon and pancakes. “Thanks, sweetheart.” He says and kisses her on the cheek as she grabs her own plate.

Baby, It’s Cold Outside || Closed Rp

Nagisa was still dreadfully, even now it was still difficult to get out of bed even if he got a healthy amount of sleep. Sometimes he’d have to be dragged out of bed to get to work on time. What confused him though as he came down the stairs, was Gou’s unusually amount of excitement. It was earlier in the morning that normal. Wiping the sleep from his eyes he titled his head in bewilderment. 

“My mother? Really?! What did she say!” He spurted, his voice giving off more color at each word. It was getting close to Christmas so she probably was inviting him over to visit. The sound of it made him happy, he missed his family..even his older sisters. Plopping himself down on the he sighed, smelling the sweet goodness of pancakes and bacon.