#Grease Tray for Bond

[citrusbatsandhoneybees]

Like What You See?

Lucifer X Fem! Pornstar! Reader SMUT

A/N: God I'm finally done with this! I've been so excited to share this! Hadddd to try to write my own getting caught fic after reading and getting inspired by @heart-of-the-morningstar's Behind (Not So) Closed Doors fic, (If you haven't read it obviously go read it right now) and maybe I've got another idea for another one. Tehee~ I LOVED writing this, and I hope you like it!

Synopsis: Reader used to be a pornstar, and Lucifer gets caught watching one of your films.

Content Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Heavy Smut, mentions of porn, masturbation, voyeurism, teasing, edging, oral (m receiving) and fingering.

Word Count: 7K

Divider Source: cafekitsune

You used to be an actor for Valentino. You quite enjoyed doing those long films, and they started to gain a lot of traction. However, after a while, Valentino had tried pushing you towards doing shorter films that didn’t have any plot outside of the erotic parts, and you refused, effectively showing him that you no longer had any worth to him. When you first arrived Hazbin Hotel you were quite literally at your lowest; losing your only job since arriving in Hell and having been kicked to the curb. However, since getting there it has done nothing but good for you. You have gained a new home, safety, and a small community to be a part of, so you’ve done everything you could to be helpful to its’ cause.

Quickly Lucifer had caught sight of this, and you were able to form a valuable comradery between the two of you in your efforts to help Charlie. Almost instantly the two of you clicked, from being able to share similar senses of humor and a mutual hate towards Alastor the bond you formed made the two of you stronger. However, you never really spoke of your past with the King of Hell. You were scared that it may put him off, or disgust him, and he would no longer want to be friends with you. You knew how he used to feel for sinners, and you didn’t want to give him any reason to hate you. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You and Charlie were up early that morning making breakfast together for the other residents of the hotel. Cheerful music played and flowed through out the kitchen as the two of you hummed and worked at a steady rhythm together filling the area with an aroma of sweet, fluffy pancakes and scrambled, seasoned eggs. A small smile formed on your face as you looked towards the princess who was hard at work. 

“Do you think we should make some bacon too?” 

Charlie’s warm humming finished, and her long blonde hair flipped to the side, as she turned to look back and answer you. 

“OOooh! If you’re finished that would be great!” 

With a small nod, you made sure to push all of the yellow fluffy eggs to separate dish as you worked on placing the strips onto the hot pan. The meat sizzled and popped within the grease that pooled below. By the time the food was officially cooked, a few of the others had joined the two of you in the kitchen, and started to make their own plates, eating happily at the dining table and island that the vibrant room held. For the others that hadn’t arrived, like Husk and Lucifer, you joined the princess in setting nice trays to bring up to their other rooms. Then for a final touch you placed a small glass vase on each of the trays with a small set of flowers that Charlie had brought inside. Abruptly, after the two of you finished, a rush of dark green smoke enclosed the trays, and pulled them away to the doors of the respective residents. 

After feeling the chilling magic send the food away, you glance over to Alastor who gave you a bone-rattling grin and turned back away to eat your own breakfast with your friends. You decided to take a seat next to your old work friend, who sent you a much warmer smile, and settled your fingers around some silverware to pick up bites of the pancakes you helped make. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

While everyone was eating together Lucifer was hard at work in his workshop putting together a specialized, custom rubber duck. He had spent several days on this, creating different prototypes, but never was fully satisfied with the result. He wanted, no needed, for this one to be perfect so that he could present it to you. Maybe then he could have some confidence to finally ask you out. He had been tiptoeing around the idea for a while now, but it never seemed like the right moment for him. Of course, he worried that you would reject him, how couldn’t he be?

While he continued his tinkering the king turned on some background noise to accompany him. Lucifer wouldn't normally watch or enjoy television because he believes it scrambles the brain, but during his stay at the hotel he has astutely learned that using current technology is a sure-fire way to piss off the radio demon, so naturally he invested in one for his room. He was grateful for it too because it was able to help him tune out any wandering thoughts, totally not about you, that normally invaded his mind during the noiseless hours. 

Quiet clicks sounded from underneath his hand as he screwed together a small piece to place inside of the little rubber gift, but before he could finish with the piece Lucifer whipped his head around to the abrupt sound of knocks that resonated throughout his room. 

“Char Char?”

He called towards the door but didn’t get an answer. The blonde groaned lightly as he stood from his work bench and stretched out, rolling away the strain his muscles had from his sitting position. Satisfied after a few stretches, he started his trek towards the door. Lucifer barely noticed, but the television shifted to another movie after the previous finished as he walked past. Once he placed his hand on his golden doorknob, he turned it to open and revealed a mahogany tray with a couple plates full of a nutritious breakfast, a tall glass of apple juice, and a small glass vase with a set of orchids. Then next to it was a small bottle of golden syrup and a folded note. On the note was a wish good morning with small hearts drawn to it, in your handwriting. A small smile painted its way across his face as he looked over the tray. Slowly Lucifer bent over to grab the little slip of paper, and traced his thumb over the ink as he stood back up. She's so sweet. His heart warmed as he looked it over and reignited his motivation to finish his small gift. 

Inspired to get back to work, Lucifer was quick to bend over once again and pick up the tray you and Charlie set up for him, however he was interrupted by the echo of a familiar voice. Before he could identify who it was, he turned his head to look through the hallway, to no avail. Then he heard it again, a little clearer now, he recognized that it was coming from behind him, and Lucifer turned back towards his room. Calling towards the room, he searched for the source and soon inferred that it was your own. Leaving the door to close behind him, he turned his head towards the large television that stood over a grand dresser, and soon his jaw dropped. On the screen held an image of you in elegant clothing, arguing with some other sinner that you were with. He froze, mouth remaining slack, and eyes widened as he watched the film. The script seemed quite cheesy and dramatic, but he had never seen you like this, and he especially didn’t know that you had been involved in recording a film, and a lead at that. Once the initial surprise weared away, he took a few steps away towards a bed that stood across the television and sat, watching the movie closely. 

He remained entranced and engaged with the film as it continued. Lucifer was mesmerized with your acting as your character involved herself in more and more romantic activities with the character that filled the role of being your ��love interest”. He couldn’t believe or understand why you had held this away from him. You were good, really good. Lucifer continued to watch as the two main characters were put in a room together, only to realize that there was only one bed to share. He chuckled lightly to himself at the predictable nature of it all as he leaned his head against his hand. However, after a few more moments, he wasn’t able to keep such a comfortable position. The scene had quickly shifted towards something more pornographic. His eyes widened once again, and he roughly wrapped his hand around his mouth as loud moans flooded past your lips from the love interest’s touch. 

He wasn’t sure why he was so surprised that the film had took this turn, it was hell after all, but his body tensed as he watched your hands wander down the other actor’s chest and before he could stop it, rapidly his own mind wandered on and imagined how your touch would feel on himself.

“Shit shit shit…” 

 Logic told him that he shouldn’t watch any further, especially since you hadn’t even told him about this, and he was about to leap towards the remote until he saw the camera zoomed in towards you and your passionate touch, causing only more torture for the poor devil. His face flushed, and it wasn’t too long until his hardened arousal started to pull his attention towards it. He felt small twitches under his boxers after every exaggerated moan that the speakers poured out, and soon he felt the absent-minded need to buck his hips for any friction that he could get. 

“Fuckkkkk..” 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You remained content in the kitchen, sitting close to your friends, and slowly eating the food off your plate as you made small conversation. You laughed lightly as you watched Angel continue to tease another sinner from across the table throughout the meal, and after you finished the last few bites of your fluffy eggs you took the opportunity to help Charlie. Taking your dishes and a few plates from the others that had finished before you, you made your way across the kitchen to the large steel sink. You easily rinsed off any of the remains that were left behind, before filling the vessel with hot soapy water and starting your task of scrubbing away anything that you may have missed. 

The princess was quick to take her place next to you, grabbing a small towel, drying off the ceramics, and putting them away. It was a successful meal that the two of you started together and now cleaning away together. Soon some of the others brought over their plates and left the kitchen after giving the two of you a thanks. Then, Angel Dust was the last one to walk over. 

“Thanks toots, delicious as always.” 

You gave the spider demon a smile and a nod as you continue scrubbing with the yellow sponge, not expecting anything more out of the conversation. 

“Short king never came down, disappointed?” 

Of course. He nudged you with his elbow as small flush ran across your face. The actor never hesitated to tease you about your relationship with Lucifer; you rolled your eyes towards the demon, and lightly gestured towards the princess as you looked back at him. Hoping the knowledge of her being there would shut him up.

“What are you trying to say?” 

Angel Dust looked you up and down and raised his brows in response with a smug smirk laid across his face. He hummed lightly, waiting patiently as Charlie finally took a few steps away to put away some of the dishes she had dried. 

��You should go up there, finally make a move toots.. Alone~” 

This again? A small scoff escaped you, and you turned your head to look over to the spider as you set a clean cup to the side. You caught sight of his wiggling eyebrows and let out a small laugh. 

“Angel, you know I won’t” 

He shook his head and rested one of his hands on his hip. He was getting tired of this song and dance between the two of you. 

“And why not?” 

It was your turn to raise an eyebrow at him before you returned to your task, explaining your reasoning once again.

“First off, I don’t think he feels that way.” 

Before Angel could interrupt you, you speak a little louder and look back at him as you continue. 

“Second! I don’t know if he would like me if he knew what I used to do. What if he finds out and he’s disgusted?” 

A light laugh runs out of the actor, and he rests one of his elbows onto your shoulder as he leans down against you. 

“Sweet cheeks you were hot in those films, 10/10, if he saw them, he wouldn’t know what to do with himself.” 

Before you could respond, Charlie spoke up brightly from behind you. You didn’t even realize she was back to dry more dishes. 

“Whatcha guys talking about?” 

You whipped your head around to respond frantically, but the arachnid beat you to it.

“Oh, I was just tellin her she should go check on your dad.”

You wanted to send the spider demon a glare, but Charlie looked over to you with a glittering grin. 

“Oh, that’s a great idea! He’s probably working on something, and you know how he can get tunnel visioned when he works on something!” 

Charlie giggles lightly thinking over her father’s small quirk, as she looks over to you. 

“I don’t want to leave you to clean everything Charlie.” 

You retorted, trying to escape the spider demon’s incessant setup. You wouldn’t hear the end of it if you went up there. 

“Oh, don’t worry toots, I can help her!” 

Charlie looked over to Angel with practically sparkling eyes, and then back to you insisting that you should go. Heavy drops of frustration started to fill you, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to back out. 

“Okay! but I’ll be back with his dishes, okay?” 

You gave the two of them a reminder of the tray that you helped set up for him this morning and stepped away to dry off your hands. You shoved the wet sponge towards your old work friend and started to walk out of the kitchen. Your last view of the two in the kitchen was Charlie back to being hard at work, and Angel Dust using two of his limbs to make an erotic gesture, and one other to make a phone next to his ear. You flipped him off as you made your way out and started your trek to the elevator. 

As you arrived at his floor, you stepped through the engraved elevator doors, and walked towards his suite at the other end of the hall. It wasn’t too long before you were in front of his door. The mahogany tray was still there, left abandoned and now cold to your dismay. You worried over Lucifer. Had he really been that distracted with his project to not answer his door? You just hoped that was the issue, and he wasn’t spiraling again. You started to speak as you twisted the gold encrusted doorknob open. 

“Lucifer! You missed your breakfast, are yo-?”

As you slipped the door open, a mixture of moans started to pour past the large crack. You froze until you had heard a recorded line. 

“YY-yeah useee mee~”

Is that?? Your heart started to rapidly pound against your chest as you realized that Lucifer could have been watching a rerun of one of your films. Shame pulled your heart strings. You pushed open the door, tray still in hand, and words were ready to fumble past your lips to try to explain yourself. A small click sounded behind you as the door shut behind you, and your jaw dropped at the sight. You looked towards the television to reaffirm your thoughts, then back at Lucifer. Fuck he's gorgeous. He laid against his mattress unabashedly pumping his member, as his head leaned against his headboard. The pretty sight caused a strong heat to swiftly pool within you, and your thighs quivered with anticipation. You felt a strong fiery magnetic pull force you to take a step towards further, and before you even realized the heavy tray you held had tipped forward in your lack of attention towards it. 

—--------------------------

Before you even arrived at his door, Lucifer groaned down at his predicament, and looked back towards the screen to see a large image of your cheek pressed against the others sinner’s cock. His eyes bulged at the sight, and his body grew more desperate for relief. His teeth clamped down onto his bottom lip as he worked through the choice whether or not to relieve himself or not, and quickly decided to go against his better judgment for it. The blonde huffs, pushing his pants and boxers down and away to quickly rid himself of this issue. Lucifer revealed his desperate standing member, that already had started leaking precum running down his length, leaving it slick and ravenous for friction.

He grunted as he felt the cool air against him and wrapped his hand around it. Lucifer started slow strokes up and down the whole of his length. His head leaned back, hitting the top of his headboard, as he continued the slow pace. Lewd noises from the film flooded his ears, as his mind ran through images of you: your tongue running up the side of cock, wrapping your pretty lips around him, and taking him fully down your throat as you did on the screen in front of him. Then to other images: pushing himself deep inside of you, making you scream his name, and screaming your own in return. Eventually low groans started to leave his throat as he started to quicken his pace, and his eyes fell shut. As Lucifer started to rapidly rush down the course of an orgasm, his free hand gripped the sheets next to him, and low repeated whimpers of your name slid off his lips like a prayer. 

Just as he found himself on the edge, a loud crash and shatter reverberated around his room. Panic rushed his veins, as he abruptly ripped his hand away from his length to hastily jerk up a blanket up and across his body. Lucifer then looked towards the source of his interruption and saw you. Shame, overwhelming shame, filled him as he saw you. What was he thinking!? There was no hiding the humiliation he felt. You stood just inside of his door, breakfast tray slightly tipped forward and your eyes rapidly switched between him and the television on his wall. Lucifer worried that you would scream at him, and rid your relationship with him all together, but instead the quick realization of the mess you had created had you setting the tray down. He watched in shock as you got on your knees to attempt to clean the spilled apple juice, and shattered vase. As you were about to grab the first piece of glass, he snapped his fingers, poofing any of the messy evidence away. You looked back up at him and watched him as countless apologies started to fumble its way out of his throat. 

His glossy eyes stared over to you as you approach his bed to sit on the edge, feeling the overwhelming warmth cover your face as you look over towards him. 

“I- it’s okay… I mean that’s what it’s for.” 

Slightly unsure of yourself, you crawl a little closer to the man, and he backs up until his back hits flush against his headboard. Lucifer remained ashamed of his actions but grew slightly confused as he watched you get closer, getting more aroused by your actions. You stopped crawling, your weight now falling onto your knees once you were close, sitting in front of him. 

“And you’re not grossed out?”

“What? No?” 

You asked as you looked over to him, with worrisome eyes, and Lucifer looked back at you with concern and a large bundle of confusion. He shook his head feverishly and waved his hands. Why would he be grossed out? You should be the one that was repulsed by him. He yearned to move forward and comfort you but stayed like stone in his spot, as to not make you uncomfortable. His answer was enough to push away some of your insecurities as you continued. 

“Is that what you want?”

You gestured towards the screen that continued to play, now on a scene of you riding the love interest of the film. Lucifer gulped slightly as his eyes turned back to the television, feeling his cock sinfully twitch once again in anticipation from the film. Then he turned his head back to you, who stared back at him wantonly. 

“N-not exactly…” 

Were you assuming wrong?? A small panic raced through you, and stuttered your actions, but allowed him to continue. He saw the panic in your eyes. Realizing his fuck up, he continued to fumble through his stuttered words. 

“Wait! No, no no no n-no! What I mean is.. I.. I want you.. I need you.”

He emphasized his last words as he leaned forward towards you. Your own heart stutters from his statement and pushed your thighs together slightly as you allowed your hand to move up and brush off some of the sweat that collected across his brow. Then you gently held his face, tracing his cheek with your thumb as you met his softened eyes with your own. 

“I need you too.”

His lip trembled slightly from your words, and he pushed himself forward off his hands. Then a small smile pulled at your lips, as you met him in the middle to press your soft lips against his. Your heart continued to pound hard against your chest as your lips met. Feeling the euphoria of finally being in the moment you wished for so long. The first kiss was gentle and slow, as you continued to trace gentle circles across his cheek. Lucifer chased after your touch for a moment as you pulled away to look at him, and he looked into your eyes. His own woozy smile graced his blushed face after the shared high of your first kiss and after you laughed lightly at his expression. Once you pushed away the pieces of blonde hair that had fallen out of place, you moved forward to kiss him once again. 

Soon your lips pressed further against his, and the pace picked up to a more feverish one. Taking initiative, you opened your mouth a little to allow passage for your tongue to brush against his bottom lip. He almost too hastily opened his mouth to match yours and you started to massage your tongue against his skinnier split one. He melts further into your touch, proving himself to be like puddy in your hands. A smirk spreads across your face as an idea hits you, and with a slow hand you place your fingers onto the edge of the blanket he hastily threw over himself to bring it down. Lucifer pulled his face away from yours, and his breath broke into heavy, hot pants as he wipes away the saliva that connected the two of you. 

“Y-you don’t have to!” 

Lucifer stares into your eyes, worried that the two of you were advancing further than you were more comfortable with. You bit your bottom lip, grateful for his kindness, as you reassure him. 

“I want to help you finish your movie, Luci. Would you like that?” 

Your voice carried a seductive edge, and Lucifer swallowed hard while nodding eagerly in response. With a small giggle, you returned to slowly removing the blanket from him. He clenches the sheets beside him in anticipation and bites his lip down hard. The ravenous look you held had him feeling desperate for your touch. As you finally pulled the covering past his waist, you got an up-close view of his hardened arousal. It stood tall, leaning against his stomach, practically quivering, anxious for more. You quickly threw the cover away as you stared down at the sight. The pure white member was slick with large amounts of his precum, and the head’s color was a pretty pink contrasting from the rest of him. Pushing past the thoughts of pouncing on him right there, you looked back up at him as you tugged his shirt lightly. He helped your efforts and practically ripped off his shirt as you pulled his pants past his hooves to leave them abandoned on the ground away from you. 

Breathlessly you looked his body over, admiring his pale white skin that was warm to the touch. He truly was Heaven’s prettiest angel. 

“You’re so beautiful.” 

Your hand traced his chest and stomach as you whispered. He picked up on your compliment and if he could blush more, he felt it. Lucifer watched you as you looked back towards the film, and realized you were just on time for the next scene. Your lips pulled to a tight-lined smirk as you moved to sit on your knees to his side, and he looked over to you slightly confused. 

“If you need me to stop, tell me, okay?”

Lucifer nodded towards you at your request, but the king hadn’t completely comprehended what you had suggested earlier, not quite understanding why you were at his side now. Amused, you laugh lightly and grasp his chin to lead his sight back towards the screen. Leaning in close, he felt your hot breath against the shell of his ear. 

“The movie, pretty boy.” 

You cooed, and he quickly put the points together. Realizing the teasing he was probably about to endure he bit back a whimper and stared back at the screen. The television displayed an exaggerated scene. The camera zoomed in showing only you as you started to grind against the other actor. Your moans streamed out the speakers, helping you overwhelm his senses. His cock twitched against his stomach, and luckily for him your hand gently wrapped around him. Lucifer felt a fleeting sense of relief as you touched him, and you started to press small pecks against the lid of his ear. You prompted leisurely pumping him at a slow pace, aiming to pull any pleasure out of him you could, as you continued your sweet affection across his ear and down his neck. Continuous translucent pearls ran past his slit, sliding down his head. A grin grew across your face at the sight, as you rubbed the slick precum up and down his member. 

It was pure torture for him to only watch this fake version of you, and agony to keep his hands to his side. You continued your cruel pace up and down, and Lucifer writhed and moaned from your strokes. You eagerly continued to fulfill your incessant need to pull more of these precious sounds, and luckily for him you allowed his hip movements, but you kept stopping those in mind for the future. Lucifer started to plead between his desperate gasps and moans. 

“Please.. p-please faster.”

You obliged and picked up the pace to keep a quick momentum. Your small pecks changed to more exchanges between open mouths kisses and small bites against his chin and neck. His own breath picked up and grew more ragged as he clenched his eyes, focusing on the waves of pleasure. Noticing this, you lectured him with a teasing tone. 

“Ah. Ah… Luciii~ the movie?” 

Lucifer whimpered, and obediently forced his eyes open to watch the film. His jaw fell, and remained open as continuous moans left his throat. His legs quivered, and his hips bucked up into your grasp as he felt a tight thread start to rapidly coil within him. 

“Fuck FUUuck, Yes!  I- I’m gonna-!” 

As Lucifer started to rolling towards the edge, you ripped your hand away from his member. A loud whine escaped from him as he continued rutting his hips up searching for the friction that was taken away from him. Before he could complain, you explained your cruel punishment. 

“You’re not even close to the end yet Lu~.” 

He turned his head to look back at you. Lucifer had been pulled away from two orgasms now. Sweat soaked his skin, his cheeks flushed, and drool colored with a hint of golden blood ran past his lips leaving a glimmering line down his chin. His desperate expression forced a tingling heat started to pool within you, and you felt your own panties slick beneath you from your arousal. 

“Can’t you at least finish this scene for me?” 

Lucifer hesitantly agreed, nodding toward you and reluctantly turned his eyes back towards the film. His body tensed lightly as he prepared himself for what was next. A mischievous grin twisted your lips upwards, as you wrapped your fingers around him once again. You returned to the pace that you left off with, and he choked back his breath from the brutal swift pace. He begged out to you, whimpering out your name as he writhed under your touch. Ironically, he wanted to pray for release.

“What…? I thought you wanted me to go fast Luci~?” 

The next few minutes felt like hours, as the scene continued on. It was truly addicting for you watching the painful pleasure you brought him with simple strokes, feeling your own body slick and wanting for more. 

Lucifer never asked you to stop, so you edged him on and on, pulling away if you needed to keep him from releasing until you recognized that the pornographic scene was close to the finish. Enthusiastically, you prepared yourself to finally fulfill his wish. Keeping your strokes steady, he watched with surprise as you moved your place back in front of the man and gave him a warm smile as you leaned forward to lick his weeping head. The new sensation had Lucifer’s head reeling as he absent-mindedly bucked his hips forward. As you continued, you hallowed your cheeks, and wrapped your perfect wet lips around him, taking him fully down your throat. Lucifer practically saw stars as his cock was engulfed down your throat. Your eyes gazed up at him, as you practiced your skill, tracing your tongue up and down the side of him as you pushed your head up and down at a steady pace. 

“S-so so so perfect.. F-feels soo good!"

Lucifer’s eyes stayed fixated on you as you used your freehand to lead his own to your hair. He eagerly took the opportunity and wrapped his fingers through your hair pulling it as softly as he could in his predicament. Quickly the familiar feeling of the thread coil tightens, and you were able to understand him instantly as he pleaded with you once again. Though this time, you gave him your acceptance with a small nod, and not a second later he was seeing stars. 

“Ahhh fuck! Th-thank thank you thank you!”

His glazed over eyes clamped and he clenched his teeth as his head hit his headboard. Lucifer felt his mind stop as shockwaves of rippling pleasure ripped its way through him. His body jerked up from underneath you, and you kept your lips wrapped tightly around the tip as you gave him slow strokes to help him through his orgasm. You swallowed the thick spurts of his seed that leapt out of him, making sure to collect everything before you pull yourself off of him. He watched eagerly as you licked your lips and took in the addicting sweet taste of his angelic cum. Wiping away any of the left-over fluid across your chin, you made your way over back to his side and placed a gentle kiss to his cheek. You cooed, whispering sweet things into his ear, as you held his hand, and rubbing your thumb gently over his knuckles. 

Once he was finally able to form a full thought, a wobbly smile formed across his face as he leaned his weight onto you. He took in a deep breath before pulling your knuckles to his lips to place a gentle kiss to the surface. A small sigh escaped from you from his soft touch, and you looked over to view his tiresome glow. After a few moments, a light tug of concern pulled at your heart, as you worried about the small possibility that you may have gone too far for a first time. 

“It wasn’t too much was it?”

He rigorously shook his head before he turned his body fully to look into your eyes. 

“No… no! you were perfect hun.” 

You matched his gaze, and the tender affection that radiated off his expression gripped your heart. He traced gentle shapes on your knee and moved forward to press his lips lovingly against yours. His warm fingers weaved through your hair and held you close. You felt his lips turn up against yours, and he pulled himself flush against your chest as your arms naturally wrapped around his neck. Lucifer pulled himself away before leaning his damp forehead against yours. As the two of you remained in your place, a silent peace fell on you. He was the first to break it with a hesitant whisper. 

“I love you..”

You picked up your hand from around his neck to trail through his hair as you reciprocated his words. 

“I love you too.”

You could feel you heart thumping in her chest, as the two of you meet together in the middle. Warmth flowed between them during this gentle, slow moment, and Lucifer achingly dragged his claws down the bottom of your thighs until he was able to hook his hands under your knees. With his hands anchored in your legs he pulled you up until you sat on his lap. Instinctively your legs wrapped around his waist and Lucifer’s lips pulled away only just enough from you to share his shaky hot breath. 

“Please, let me make you feel good too.” 

The blooming heat within you was fertilized with his words, and you agreed to his request with a low whisper, and he gratefully took this opportunity using your position to lift you and lay you against the cool sheets. A light gasp escaped you as he brushed your hair out of the way and traced his lips down the side of your neck. Once he reached the crook of it, he grazed his teeth against it, receiving a delightful shiver from you. His lips turn up against your skin, and his tongue moves past to roll over your sensitive skin as he moves one of his hands from your thigh to bunch your shirt up past your chest. Your breath hitches as his hot black claws tenderly trails from your navel up to your chest to cup and fondle your breasts. Mindlessly your head pushes back against the plush pillow, and heavy gasps pour out of you as he starts to circle of areola, and gently roll your nipple between his forefinger and thumb sending shockwaves to your abdomen. Lucifer readily moves down to be between your breasts and continues his nipping slowly down towards your navel, pushing your pants and damp underwear down during the process. As his attempts to remove your clothing gets blocked by himself between you, he sits back and is able to get a full view of your sensual state. His mind reels at the sight. Your eyes were half-lidded, holding a hungry expression, and your mouth hung open just enough to allow heated pants to run past your lips as you stared over at him. Slowly small marks started to show, decorating your skin from his previous nipping. Your arms laid at your side after being taken away from his neck as he laid back, waiting to return to their earlier position. 

“So.. beautiful...”

He muttered under his breath as he pushes the clothing past your legs to throw off beside him and sinks down to his spot between your legs. You watch him plop down between your thighs, and suddenly the sound of his breath hitching runs to your ears as he examines the hot, soaked, slit that laid there. As he continued leaving feather-light kisses on your inner thighs, you feel the soft circles Lucifer draws around the sensitive core that had your deep entrance clenching for more. Your hand made their way to his blonde hair and his eyes remained straight on you, entranced by the small sounds that slipped from your throat and the view of your glistening cunt, as he riled you further. As one of his prolonged circles ended at the bottom of your entrance, your breath gets ripped from your lungs as he plunges one of his fingers deep inside you. Lucifer had to steady his foggy brain after feeling you: hot, soaked, tight, and pulsing around him. The blonde thought that he could practically cum right there just from the feeling of you. Slowly he starts to make a consistent pace, thrusting his finger in and out, and in and out of you all while curling it upwards to pull the most pleasure from you. Your head tipped back, and your toes curled as the heavenly drag of the tip of his finger, reached in places your own couldn’t, and sent your shockwaves to your core. He adored this; Lucifer wanted nothing but to please you, to treat you like the goddess he felt you were. It wasn’t too long until moans and praises pleaded for more. 

“Sh-shit Luci.. So.. good for me..”

His eyes glimmered from the praise, as he stared up at you from your slit, deeply into your eyes as he continued, making sure to study your reaction to find what exactly made you feel absolutely and utterly blissful. Not even a moment later his lips parted allowing his tongue slip through, and he made quick work to flick it up across your pleading clit. The sudden wet attention had your hips bucking from underneath him, against his face and hand.  Sonorous moans continuously gushed out of you. He excitedly continued his attention inside you, as he started to suck the sensitive bud intently as he continued to flick his tongue up it at the same pace of his finger. Your tight grasp started to pull at his scalp, and hot white pleasure overwhelmed your mind, as you arched your back up off the bed.  Lucifer pleaded with pent-up whine came from between your legs as you tugged his hair. Then soon a skinny scaly tendril wrapped around one of your thighs joining his other hand to pull it back as Lucifer plunged another finger with the other, causing the tight thread that started it’s endless knotting within you threatening to split. 

“F-Fuck Love I’m gonna-!” 

Your toes curl at the feeling and your melodic warnings of the impending results of his touch graced his ears. Lucifer was unrelenting, continuing this pace as he aimed to tip you over that edge. A few seconds later you felt the thread snap, causing your legs to tremble under his touch, and your back arched further up from the bed. Harmonious whines and moans flooded out of you as trails hot fire overtook your mind and body while you released from underneath him. Lucifer calmed the pace of his fingers down, and watched, mesmerized by you and your walls pulling his fingers further as he helped you ride out your orgasm. As the arch of your back relaxed, and your breathing steadied, he slowly slipped his fingers out of your tight grip. 

“Sooo gorgeous hun, and so…” 

He spoke lowly as Lucifer moved up to face you and positioned his hips back in between your soft thighs. Slowly his fingers were placed to the surface of his lips, pushing past, as he made a show of sucking the slick that coated him. A heavy breath fell to your ears as he allows the fingers to leave his mouth and used his tongue to lick his fingers frivolously. A smirk paints his expression as your eyes met his once again. 

“... delicious..”

You couldn’t help but smile back at him as you see his face. You admired his expression as you saw his chin glisten with your slick and saliva and his half-lidded eyes looked towards you like you were the sweetest dessert he had ever tasted. A whisper of a laugh falls out of you between heavy breaths, as your arms wrapped tightly around the back of his neck, and the tips of your fingers raked through his blonde locks.

Delicately, he held your cheek to lean forward and give you another honey-sweet kiss. For a while it remained as tender and sugary as it started. His lips parted to massage his tongue against yours, and you could taste a faint hint of his blood and you spread across it. You would live in this fleeting moment of connection forever if it hadn't been for the damned need to take a breath. As the contact between the two of you was split, Lucifer could feel your heated breaths against his cheeks. The two of you cherished each other's comfort as you pressed your foreheads against each other once again. A soft smile graced his lips as he savored being with you and held you close.

It wasn’t long till the blonde started to feel the natural need to have you closer. Then he pulled you up against him; your legs instinctively wrapped their way around his hips again. However, your breath picked up as you felt his newly, almost forgotten, arousal against your core, and watched as a guttural groan sneaked its way past his clenched teeth. You looked over to him and whispered to open his now clamped eyes.

“Luci...”

His eyes flickered back to yours as you spoke and felt as his breath hitches at the sight. He looked towards you lovingly; You practically glowed beneath him. Your own breath was bated, and your eyes brimmed with an emotional passion, and fervor. You may have been in an intimate position, but this was so much more than the film he was watching before, and he was relishing having you.

All of you with him. 

“Fuck me Love…” 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bonus Scene:

Angel Dust continued cleaning the resident’s dishes and took over drying them as the princess moved on to round up the other sinners for an exercise. Then the engraved kitchen doors creaked open with a groan. He didn’t question it too much as he saw the feline bartender stepped in and brought the now only half-empty tray to the sink. A simple clink sounded besides the arachnid as the tray was set against the counter, and Angel looked towards Husk with a raised eyebrow. 

“Not hungry or what?” 

Husk looked back to him after he strolled towards the coffee machine and rubbed his temple, trying to will away a migraine that started to form.

“No, those two are finally fucking.” 

He could hear the creaking and moaning through the floors. Angel Dust’s jaw dropped as he set his rag and plate down, and the corners of his lips curved devilishly. 

“Hell yeah finally! That’s all me baby! I did that! Pay the fuck up!” 

Husk grumbled with a small roll of the eyes, and turned back to him after he poured the black steaming liquid into his mud. The pornstar looked back to him with his hand outstretched and a smug grin that revealed his shining golden tooth, but despite Husk’s small frustrations he handed over the twenty that Angel was looking for. 

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

a/n: Haha poor Husk, anyway, hope you enjoyed! <333

[evelynjohn001]

How to Paint a Warehouse Floor: A Step-by-Step Guide

Painting a warehouse floor is a task that requires careful planning, the right tools, and proper execution to ensure a durable, safe, and professional finish. Whether you're looking to improve the aesthetic appeal, enhance safety, or protect the floor from wear and tear, a well-painted warehouse floor can make a big difference.

This guide will walk you through the process of painting a warehouse floor, covering preparation, tools, application, and post-paint care.

1. Why Paint a Warehouse Floor?

Painting your warehouse floor offers several benefits:

Protection: A high-quality epoxy or concrete paint creates a protective layer, preventing wear from foot traffic, forklifts, and other equipment.

Safety: Using non-slip paint can improve traction and reduce the risk of accidents.

Aesthetics: A fresh coat of paint gives the warehouse a cleaner, more professional appearance.

Ease of Maintenance: Painted floors are easier to clean and maintain, reducing dust and debris build-up.

2. Tools and Materials You'll Need

Before you start, gather all the necessary tools and materials:

Epoxy or Polyurethane Paint: Designed for concrete or industrial floors, it offers durability and resistance to chemicals and abrasion.

Concrete Cleaner: To remove grease, oil, and other stains before painting.

Pressure Washer: To thoroughly clean the floor.

Concrete Patch: For filling cracks and holes in the floor.

Painter’s Tape: To mark off edges and areas you don’t want to paint.

Primer: Helps the paint adhere better to the concrete.

Paint Roller: Preferably one with an extension handle to cover large areas.

Paint Trays: To hold the paint during application.

Safety Equipment: Gloves, goggles, and a respirator to protect yourself from fumes and dust.

3. Preparing the Warehouse Floor

Preparation is critical for ensuring that the paint adheres properly and lasts a long time. Follow these steps:

Step 1: Clear the Area

Remove all equipment, shelving, and debris from the area you’ll be painting. Ensure the floor is completely clear.

Step 2: Clean the Floor

Use a concrete cleaner to remove all dirt, grease, and oil. A pressure washer is ideal for cleaning large areas quickly and effectively. Allow the floor to dry completely before proceeding.

Step 3: Repair Any Damage

Inspect the floor for any cracks, holes, or damage. Use a concrete patching compound to fill any imperfections. This step ensures a smooth, even surface for painting.

Step 4: Etch the Concrete (If Necessary)

Some floors may require etching to open up the surface of the concrete and improve paint adhesion. This can be done with a concrete etching solution or a mechanical grinder. Follow the manufacturer's instructions carefully.

Step 5: Apply Primer

Once the floor is clean and dry, apply a concrete primer. This will help the paint bond to the floor more effectively and provide a longer-lasting finish. Allow the primer to dry fully before moving on to the next step.

4. Painting the Warehouse Floor

With the floor fully prepped, it’s time to start painting.

Step 1: Choose the Right Paint

For a warehouse floor, epoxy or polyurethane-based paint is ideal. Epoxy is highly durable, chemical-resistant, and ideal for industrial environments.

Step 2: Mix the Paint

Follow the manufacturer's instructions for mixing the paint. Some paints may require adding a hardener or other components before use.

Step 3: Apply the First Coat

Using a roller, apply the first coat of paint in long, even strokes. Start at the far end of the warehouse and work your way toward the exit, so you don’t paint yourself into a corner.

Be sure to cover the entire surface evenly. For edges and corners, use a smaller brush or roller to ensure precise coverage.

Step 4: Allow the Paint to Dry

Let the first coat dry according to the paint manufacturer's instructions. This may take anywhere from 24 to 48 hours, depending on the type of paint and the warehouse environment.

Step 5: Apply a Second Coat

For added durability and a more even finish, apply a second coat of paint. Follow the same process as the first coat and allow it to dry thoroughly.

5. Post-Painting Care

Once the painting is complete, it’s essential to follow these steps to ensure the longevity of the paint job:

Step 1: Curing Time

Give the floor sufficient time to fully cure. Even though the paint may feel dry to the touch, it could take several days for it to harden completely. During this time, avoid placing heavy equipment or machinery on the floor.

Step 2: Regular Maintenance

To keep your painted warehouse floor in top condition, regular cleaning is essential. Sweep and mop the floor to remove dust, dirt, and debris. For tougher stains, use a mild detergent and water, avoiding harsh chemicals that could damage the paint.

Step 3: Inspect for Damage

Periodically inspect the floor for signs of wear or damage. Touch up any worn or scratched areas to prevent further damage and keep the floor looking fresh.

Conclusion

Painting a warehouse floor is a manageable DIY project, provided you take the time to prepare the surface and use the right materials. By following this step-by-step guide, you can transform your warehouse floor, making it more durable, safer, and visually appealing. Whether you're protecting the concrete from wear or simply improving the space’s look, a well-painted floor is a long-term investment in the functionality and safety of your warehouse.

Key Takeaways:

Proper preparation, including cleaning, repairing, and priming the floor, is critical for success.

Choose the right paint, such as epoxy or polyurethane, for durability.

Apply multiple coats, allowing ample drying and curing time for the best results.

Maintain the painted floor through regular cleaning and inspections.

[jassawcleaning]

Oven Cleaning That Will Make Your Oven Look Its Best

Jassaw Cleaning Services

Your oven is the workhorse of your kitchen, responsible for baking, roasting, and cooking countless meals. Over time, however, it's not uncommon for grease, grime, and food residue to accumulate, leaving your oven looking less than its best. If you're in Canberra or the surrounding areas, finding a reliable oven cleaning service is key to restoring your oven's sparkle and ensuring it operates efficiently. In this article, we'll explore the benefits of professional oven cleaning and how it can make your oven look its best, along with insights into other cleaning services that complement a pristine kitchen environment.

Oven Cleaning in Canberra:

When it comes to oven cleaning, DIY methods often fall short of delivering the desired results. Scrubbing away stubborn stains and grease buildup can be time-consuming and frustrating, not to mention the harsh chemicals involved in many commercial oven cleaners. Fortunately, professional oven cleaning services in Canberra offer a convenient and effective solution to restore your oven to its former glory. Professional oven cleaners in Canberra specialize in using safe and eco-friendly cleaning products and techniques to remove baked-on grease, carbon deposits, and food residue from all parts of your oven, including racks, trays, and the interior cavity. With their expertise and specialized equipment, they can achieve superior results in a fraction of the time it would take to clean your oven yourself.

Benefits of Professional Oven Cleaning:

Enhanced Efficiency: A clean oven operates more efficiently, as it doesn't have to work as hard to reach and maintain the desired cooking temperatures. Improved Food Quality: A clean oven ensures that your food cooks evenly and doesn't absorb any off-flavours or odours from accumulated grease and residue. Increased Lifespan: Frequent oven cleaning helps avoid the accumulation of grease and dirt, which can cause expensive repairs and early wear and tear. Healthier Cooking Environment: Removing food residue and grease from your oven reduces the risk of smoke and fumes contaminating your food, creating a healthier cooking environment for you and your family.

Complementary Cleaning Services:

While oven cleaning is essential for maintaining a clean and hygienic kitchen, it's just one piece of the puzzle. To ensure your entire home is in pristine condition, consider enlisting the help of professional home cleaning services in Canberra. These services offer comprehensive cleaning solutions tailored to your specific needs, from regular house cleaning to specialized services such as bond back cleaning and end-of-lease cleaning. Bond back cleaning and end-of-lease cleaning services are particularly beneficial for tenants moving out of rental properties in Canberra. These services ensure that the property is returned to its original condition, meeting the requirements of lease agreements and maximizing the chances of receiving a full bond refund. From cleaning floors and walls to scrubbing bathrooms and kitchens, professional cleaners leave no stone unturned in ensuring that the property is spotless and ready for the next occupants.

Finding Professional Cleaning Services in Canberra:

When searching for professional cleaning services in Canberra, it's essential to choose a reputable company with a proven track record of delivering high-quality results. Look for companies that are licensed, insured, and experienced in handling a wide range of cleaning tasks. Reading customer reviews and testimonials can also help you gauge the reliability and professionalism of a cleaning service provider.

In conclusion, professional oven cleaning services in Canberra offer a convenient and effective solution to restore your oven to its former glory, ensuring it looks its best and operates efficiently. By complementing oven cleaning with other professional cleaning services, such as home cleaning, bond back cleaning, and end-of-lease cleaning, you can enjoy a clean, hygienic, and inviting living environment throughout your home.

[diynest]

How To Clean Your Oven For Bond Cleaning

Cleaning your oven for bond cleaning is a critical part of ensuring the return of your security deposit. Start by removing all oven racks and trays. Create a cleaning paste by mixing baking soda and water or use a commercial oven cleaner. Apply this paste to the interior, focusing on grease and grime buildup. Allow it to sit for a few hours or overnight. Then, use a scrubbing pad or an old toothbrush to scrub away the residue. Wipe down the interior with a damp cloth to remove any remaining cleaner. Don't forget to clean the oven's exterior, knobs, and oven door. A well-cleaned oven will help you meet the cleaning standards required for bond cleaning and increase the likelihood of a full refund on your security deposit.

https://www.bondcleaninginportmacquarie.com.au/how-to-clean-your-oven-for-bond-cleaning/

[trashmenofmarvel]

Branded - Chapter 24

Pairing: Demon!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky receives your Christmas present.

(This is a fan AU of Falling’s Just Another Way to Fly by araniaart​. Please check out this incredible series for all of your demon Bucky needs.)

Chapter Warnings: So much fluff

AO3

You took your mission to get a present for Bucky just as seriously as your mission to seduce him. No alcohol was involved this time, just a little elbow grease and fighting through the cobwebs of the attic.

With your sister distracting Bucky downstairs after dinner (“Ohh, does this mean I can give him the shovel talk?!”), you had the time needed to find what you were looking for. A pile of cardboard boxes with your name written on them, along with the year you’d moved away from home.

You sat on the old wooden floor, opened a box, and began to rummage. Plushies and toys you hadn’t wanted to part with were in the first box. The next, various knickknacks you’d collected over the years. A crystal vial filled with water and gold flakes. A keychain full of dead Tamagotchis. A collection of bookmarks made out of wood and hand-painted with magical creatures.

Each new treasure brought a wave of nostalgia, bittersweet for a time when things had seemed simpler. No soul-sucking job. No demons stalking you, waiting for you to be alone and vulnerable to strike.

But there had been no Bucky, either. So while the memories held an alluring shine to it, you didn’t have a problem leaving the past where it was.

You came upon the object you’d been seeking tucked away in the third box. You opened it carefully, the weight surprisingly heavy in your hands. It was a picture frame, segmented into three parts that could close inward, almost like a book. An heirloom your grandmother had found at a flea market when her family had lived in New York.

It was clearly old, heavy with the weight of history, but the metalwork was delicate and beautiful. The last remains of a bygone era, a little bit tarnished and dusty but no less beautiful for it.

It reminded you of a certain other person from a bygone era.

Carefully putting away your childhood things and replacing the boxes, you went back downstairs and entered your mother’s study. The laptop on her desk was open to a webpage of a historical site regaling the Second World War. The glossy pictures you printed were still sitting in the printer’s output tray.

Taking the photos, you carefully cut them to fit the three windows of the picture frame. The pictures in them now were artistic drawings of anthropomorphic rabbits wearing whimsical, old-fashioned clothing. You carefully set them aside, planning to find new frames for your grandmother’s drawings; somewhere they could be displayed and not hidden away in the attic.

Technically, the frame was a family heirloom and probably valuable, but giving it to Bucky felt… right. He’d been a part of your life for much longer than two months, even if you hadn’t known it. The bond between you was strange, indescribable, and ran too deep to break. If that wasn’t family, you didn’t know what was.

Your mother would understand and forgive you, whenever you told her the truth. And you would tell her, someday. It was kind of unavoidable when you were dating an immortal being. You would go grey, and Bucky would always look the same…

The scissors froze halfway through a cut. What were you going to do when you grew old and withered? What happened to Bucky when you died? You’d thought about your own mortality plenty of times, but you hadn’t thought about the implications after meeting Bucky.

Would the bond break and Bucky would go on without you? Or would it hurt him. Kill him. Had the book said anything about the human slaves aging? All it had said in regards to death was they could die to protect the demon, giving the demon an extra life.

What if you couldn’t provide the energy he needed because you were too frail and gnarled with age?

What if Bucky didn’t want you when you got old?

What if—

Your jaw clenched and the scissors glided through the paper like a blade. Startled, you looked down at the photo, but thankfully you’d more or less cut straight. You stared at the photo, the last you’d chosen of the three.

A sepia photo of a handsome young man in a suit, the white dress shirt unbuttoned and showing the undershirt beneath, a familiar and easy grin on his face. Next to him, a scrawny blond boy who was much shorter, smiling reluctantly with encouragement from the brunet next to him. It was hard to believe the serious-looking boy would one day be Captain America and the young man next to him would become HYDRA’s most powerful soldier.

You carefully put the photo in one of the side frames. In the frame opposite, you placed a black and white family photo, one of Bucky, his sister, and both their parents. They were wearing their best clothes, the children on their best behavior, except the boy had an elbow pressed against his sister’s side as they both suppressed giggles.

The third photo, the one you placed in the center piece, was a simple one. A photo of Bucky in another suit, this one more formal, and his sister at his side wearing a pair of women’s trousers and a frilly blouse. They were both older than in the first photo, and according to the date, it was the summer before Bucky had been shipped out to Europe.

Bucky looked… happy. Genuinely, truly happy. You hadn’t included any photos from the war or him in uniform, though there were plenty to find. You didn’t think he’d want to be reminded of that time, and in all those pictures he’d seemed subdued, serious. It wasn’t an expression you were fond of, and the happiness he showed around his family and Steve Rogers was absent in them.

After all the pictures were secured, you leaned back and stared at them. You frowned and shifted restlessly.

What if he didn’t like it? What if it brought back painful memories he’d rather forget? You were confident that wouldn’t be the case, not after the fond way he’d talked about his family, but… reminiscing was one thing. Seeing the past staring up at you was another.

Sighing heavily, you stood and picked up the frame, closing it so only the polished metalwork was on display. It was better to get it over with, rather than stand here, frozen with the weight of doubt.

After wrapping the frame in pretty blue foil paper, you went into your old room and placed it on the bed. You took a deep breath—why were you so nervous?—and went downstairs to free Bucky from your sister’s clutches.

To your eternal shock, he didn’t look like a hostage when you found them in the kitchen. If anything, they seemed thick as thieves. Your eyes narrowed, suspicious of what tales your sister has clearly been telling.

And that’s when you froze.

Bucky was holding your infant nephew in his arms, looking for all the world like he’d done it a million times before. He didn’t look up at your arrival, his gaze entirely focused on the baby he was slowly rocking back and forth. Your nephew stared up at him with wide eyes, little chubby arms reaching up to try and grab a stray lock of hair.

You’d never experienced the phenomenon of “baby fever” before. You maybe wanted to adopt kids, sure, but have them yourself? It’d never been a priority or a desire… until that moment. The air had gone out of you like a sucker punch to the gut, replaced by yearning so strong it was a struggle to remain silent and not break the moment.

Somebody noticed your presence, though. Your sister was grinning at you like a shark from where she was leaning against the kitchen counter.

“There you are,” she practically cooed. “I was just telling Jacob about the time we snuck out of the house as kids and went to go perform ‘witchcraft’ in the middle of the woods at night.”

You made some kind of noncommittal noise, you were sure, because Bucky lifted his head and looked directly at you. Your nephew had managed to grab a lock of hair and was currently sticking it into his mouth.

Bucky didn’t notice, his entire focus on your face, a light frown forming. You still hadn’t moved or spoken.

“Did you find what you needed?” your sister asked, leaning forward to save Bucky’s hair from being eaten, lifting her son back into her arms.

“Uh. Yeah. I did.” You swallowed thickly, too much saliva in your mouth.

“Oh? What were you looking for?” Bucky approached, and when he was close enough placed a hand on your back and rubbed. The simple touch sent a white-hot flash through your system and you nearly choked.

“Nothing. I mean, something. Uh, you’ll see.”

Your sister gave you a pitying look over Bucky’s shoulder, and you communicated a silent what the fuck was that, you asshole, you know exactly what you did.

She returned the silent communique with a smug smirk, and then she drew you into a one-armed hug.

“I’m heading out, sis. Got an early drive back home in the morning. I’m gonna miss you.”

Your frustration evaporated in an instant and you returned the hug tightly.

“Drive safe,” you told her.

“You too. And call me more, or at least text!”

“I will, I promise.”

And you meant it too. You’d fallen out of touch with your family, and after appreciating everything Bucky had lost, you were going to make an effort to include him as well.

After you separated, your sister hugged Bucky with just as much enthusiasm.

“Take care of her, Jacob Miller.”

“I will.” Bucky tucked you against his side after your sister released him. Your face was on fire.

“I know you will,” she said with a conspiratorial smirk. “Because I watch a lot of crime dramas, and I know how to hide a body.”

“Oh, my God,” you groaned into a hand.

After your sister and brother-in-law said their last goodbyes and your familial humiliation was concluded, you couldn’t rush up the stairs fast enough, practically dragging Bucky behind you.

You shut the bedroom door and leaned back against it, releasing a sigh of relief, and then immediately sucked another lungful of air when Bucky crowded you against the door. His smile was amused but carried a hint of concern.

“Everything all right?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, smiling shakily as your stomach did flip-flops. It was hard to focus with Bucky so close, peering at you intently with those bright blue eyes.

“You sure?” He cupped the side of your face with a gloved hand, and you leaned into it immediately. “Because you got this weird look on your face. I didn’t go too far, did I? Your sister asked if I wanted to hold her son, and I didn’t think—“

“No, no.” You shook your head fervently, placing your hand over Bucky’s so you could squeeze it. “I’m happy you’re getting along so well with my family. Really. It’s… more than I could have asked for.”

His expression softened, the tension lines of his face smoothed out, and he leaned down and gently pressed his lips to yours. The kiss deepened when you tangled your fingers in his long hair, pulling him closer, and your knees would have buckled right then if he hadn’t been pressing you against the door.

What had started out as a chaste kiss was quickly going to end in somebody naked, so you pulled back and grinned at his noise of frustration.

“Just—hold on a sec,” you said. “I have something for you first.”

You ducked around him and approached the bed to where his gift laid waiting. Bucky was right behind you, not letting you go far as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“What’s this?” he asked, propping his chin on top of your head.

“This… is your Christmas present.”

Another small noise of protest when you turned around and tapped it against his chest.

“You really didn’t have to,” he said with a hint of exasperation.

“Uh, you took me flying. A little gift is the least I could do.”

Bucky looked from your face to the present, as if he still couldn’t quite believe it. When was the last time someone had gotten the guy a gift? No, you didn’t want to think about that sad question or you might start crying.

He took the present from your hand, his expression still one of vague disbelief. You bit your lip to keep from smiling and ended up failing anyway. It wasn’t every day that Bucky looked so… cute. There was no other word for the little dip in his brows and the slight parting of his lips.

It was nothing to the expression he wore once he pulled open your less-than-perfect wrapping job, opened the frame, and saw what was inside.

As the seconds tick on and his face didn’t changed, where he didn’t seem to breathe, your excitement slowly drained away.

And then when his eyes grew glassy and red-rimmed, you started to panic.

“Is… is this too much?” you quickly asked. “Should I not have—Did I make a mistake?”

His guise dropped in an instant. It wasn’t gradual like it usually was; it was gone so fast you only had to blink.

Bucky wrapped his arms around you and pulled you against his chest, face buried in your hair as if to hide it. A fine tremor moved through his muscles. He was shaking.

“No. It’s—it’s perfect. I… Thank you.”

You raised your arms slowly and wrapped them around him just as carefully, holding him as close as you could. Being held in Bucky’s embrace never got old, or tiring; it was a place you could remain forever. By the desperate way he held you tight, you hoped he felt the same.

“Where… where did you even find them?” He pulled back and stared down at the picture frame, wonder on his face. No tears had fallen, but he still looked painfully fragile.

“Online.” You rested your head against his shoulder as your eyes fell to the pictures. “Museum websites. Lots of information on Captain America, of course, but quite a few on his childhood best friend.”

“Huh.”

“You’ve never googled yourself?”

“Once. Didn’t care to do it again.”

You winced. Of course, you had to go and bring up the fact most of the information on Bucky wasn’t about him, but about the Winter Soldier.

“Right. Sorry. Stupid question.”

Bucky sighed and carefully set the frame down on the nearby dresser. Without warning, he grabbed you by the back of your thighs and lifted, picking you up before setting you on the bed, swallowing down your squeal as he kissed you, open-mouthed.

You immediately went pliant, wrapping your arms and legs around him to try and get closer.

“That’s better,” he said, voice a raspy growl when he broke the kiss. His eyes were dark, pupils blown as he eyed you like a tasty meal. “Can’t beat yourself up if your mouth is too busy doing other things.”

“I can multitask,” you breathed out. Bucky grinned, a hint of sharp teeth.

“We’ll see.”

Next Chapter

[izlaria]

Someone you like (part 2)

This is the second chapter of my “Someone you like” inspired fic. It’s also available on AO3 in case you prefer that platform.

Feel free to write comments in the tags or send me messages about this. I love feedback!

16 and 14 years old

Pidge Gunderson. I am Pidge Gunderson.

Katie looked herself in the mirror, trying to convince her brain that the image reflected was hers, that it was a boy, with no previous links to the Garrison, someone who had wanted to go into Communications.

It didn’t really work. All she saw was Matt: his glasses; his short, unkempt haircut; his nickname for her.

Maybe it was better like this. Katie had initially meant to immerse herself in this new identity, to go so deep into Pidge Gunderson that no one would be able to see past the cover, but the truth still kept slipping through her defenses. Katie was a Holt and her family was missing, so she was gonna find them. Pidge was just a tool.

It would be easier if there weren’t so many risks in studying at the Garrison.

Her father hadn’t brought her around often, but Katie had become infamous among the night-time security for her excursions to discover sensitive information regarding the Kerberos mission. Iverson, in particular, was probably expecting a new advance on her part.

He hadn’t recognized her, yet.

Sometimes Katie worried that she’d already been exposed and that they were just gathering evidence before actually making a move against her. If the Garrison was willing to lie about her father’s and brother’s deaths, then she couldn’t overlook the possibility that corruption ran deep within the organization.

She sighed, tugging at the ends of her hair.

“Come on, Gunderson!” she heard someone shout from outside her door. “You’re coming to lunch with us whether you want to or not!”

Lance continued to make noises, probably talking to Hunk. They usually threatened to hack into her keypad if she didn’t come out to join them for meals. Katie couldn’t really understand their stubbornness. She might have appreciated their offer of friendship back in Middle School, when she’d felt ostracized by her peers, but now it was just another hazard to her already convoluted plan.

“Go bother some poor girl, McClain!” Katie shouted in response, feeling more inpatient than strictly necessary.

She knew that Lance meant well, but she didn’t have time for his hijinks. Katie had a duty to her family, first and foremost, and any effort spent placating her teammates was a waste in that regard. Not to mention that Lance had a knack for attracting attention that completely opposed her own need to remain unseen.

Her door slid open with an elegant swoosh.

Katie poked her head from the bathroom to glare at the two boys who stood there. Hunk had the sense to look ashamed, but Lance just grinned.

“It’s bonding time, Pidge!” He stepped into the room, arms wide open. His easy smile was the same as ever, despite the news they’d received earlier that day about their performance stats. It was probably why Lance was there, after all.

Katie actually felt a little bad about the whole thing. She wasn’t particularly invested in training as a communications officer and, though she wouldn’t say it affected her retainment of the knowledge demanded from her, it certainly translated into frustration when they were in the simulator.

She wasn’t much of a team player, Katie could admit.

“If you’re trying to get on my good side, this is not how to do it,” she grumbled, trying her best to keep her voice low. Too much of a change would eventually weight on her vocal cords or sound plain ridiculous, but a difference in pitch and speech patterns were certainly necessary to disguise her true identity. Thankfully, any slip up could be attributed to puberty, as she’d been seeing many of their male classmates endure the difficulties of cracking voices.

Lance took her by the shoulders and shook her indiscriminately. “Quit being the worst!” His cheerfulness hid the vexation that Katie knew he truly felt. “We’re having burgers today, so I’m not letting you bring us down.”

She snickered. Lance was notorious for his love of junk food, despite Hunk’s attempts to get them more nutritious meals. He frequently spoke about his mother’s cooking but didn’t seem to have that same interest in the dietary plan prepared by the Garrison.

Katie couldn’t really fault him for that. Their meals were usually so blend that they seemed to withdraw taste from any of the condiments added.

From behind Lance, Hunk had finally gathered enough courage to come in. He looked around in such false innocence that Katie might have believed him, hadn’t she caught him going through her drawers the previous week. That boy was nosy as hell.

Just another reason to keep them away.

“If I go with you to the cafeteria, does that mean I can get you out of my room?” She fixed them with a stony look.

“For a time,” Lance offered, all cheeky and bright and annoying.

Hunk put a hand on his shoulder, pulling his friend back from Katie. “We noticed you didn’t eat yesterday, again.” He sighed. “If you took better care of yourself, we wouldn’t come here so often.”

Katie let that reasoning sit with her for a bit. She usually sneaked granola bars and other less-perishable types of food into her room to eat while she worked, but it was true that she didn’t really sit for meals unless the boys pushed her. She didn’t think they would notice.

It brought a strange warmth to her chest. She’d felt cold for so long now, always at arm’s length from those around her. Her mother had tried, but she was grieving and her suffering filled her until there was no more room for her daughter. These small kindnesses had gone away with Matt.

She struggled not to reach into her pocket for the picture she kept of them. Hunk had a curious soul and Lance was a gossip; they had almost caught her one too many times.

“I guess I did want your input on how to recalibrate this old radio I found in the junkyard…” Katie huffed out a breath, which the boys took as a surrender.

“Ah, nothing like the smell of oil and grease to really improve the day!” Lance put an arm around her shoulders, but she quickly dodged away, lest he recognize anything different about her body. Even though she was already pretending to be a boy, Katie didn’t want to also have to pretend to be trans. It was a line that she dared not cross, morally.

She felt the dysmorphia more acutely than she’d imagined she would. As a child, she had enjoyed cutesy things and dresses and her long hair. The sudden departure from those possessions was supposed to remove her from her previous identity, but Katie would always know the truth. There was no escaping it.

More than anything, it was the inability to choose that left her frazzled. The loose clothes and glasses and boyish haircut didn’t bother her and they did give her a liberty that more feminine wear didn’t, but Katie wished the circumstances allowed her to be a girl too, sometimes.

Alas, here she was, stuck between Hunk and Lance as they basically escorted her to the cafeteria. Matt would have a conniption if he ever found out there were boys breaking into her room at all times of the day.

“You thinking about those amazing fries we’re gonna get?” Lance sighed dreamily. “Honestly, I don’t know how they do it. Every other meal freaking sucks, but then Monday comes around and the cooks just nail it!”

Hunk chuckled, nodding along. “They probably want to put us in a good mood for the week. Everybody knows that getting back to classes after the weekend can be hard.”

“Hard? It’s impossible.” Lance dragged his hands through his face. “I nearly fell asleep during Arithmetic today. Professor Reeves is such a bore!”

“Maybe you wouldn’t fall asleep if you didn’t spend Sunday nights in town,” Katie quipped before she could stop herself.

“Yeah, well,” Lance floundered. “What’s your excuse, then? You won’t come with us, but you still look dead on your feet in the mornings!”

“I’m just not a morning person.” She crossed her arms, turning away from Lance.

In doing so, however, she came face to face with Hunk, who was staring at her with an inquisitive look. He was less loud about it than Lance, but it was clear that he also had questions about what Katie spent her time doing.

She tightened her arms around herself, feeling her stomach drop.

This was why Katie didn’t like to talk to them. It was usually easy to ignore Lance, because of how over-the-top he was, but Hunk’s gentleness and concern made the guilt rise within her. She didn’t want to involve other people in her lies, didn’t want them to believe Pidge was their friend only to be faced with a betrayal.

And that’s how they would see it, wasn’t it? Katie didn’t have a lot of experience with friendships, especially not ones as deep as Hunk and Lance’s, but no sane person would take it lightly to find out someone had lied about their whole identity and motivations.

Besides, if she ever did find out what the Garrison was hiding, it could possibly affect the future of the organization and disrupt the trajectory of every student there.

Before Katie could go further into her spiraling thoughts, she felt Hunk maneuver her into the cafeteria line. She had tuned out the rest of their conversation and now Lance spoke of a girl in his Aerodynamics class.

She ignored his ramblings. Lance tried to project this image of a lady’s man, but the few dates he’d scored since they started school never seemed to really move forward. They ended up in an endless cycle in which Lance fixated on some girl, hit on her endlessly, then finally gave up and went crying to Hunk.

Katie couldn’t see the appeal of it, but it most likely had to do with Lance’s self-esteem and need for validation.

“I think Jiya might actually like me!” he declared, despite how both Hunk and Katie were more focused on filling their trays with food. “Whenever the teacher asks me to stay behind and clean up, she stays to help! That has to mean something!”

Katie collected her juice box and went to sit down, pointedly ignoring Lance’s questions.

“I’m sure you’re right,” Hunk said agreeably. He didn’t sound too sure, but his expression showed that he was trying to be positive for Lance’s sake.

“Or, you know, the girl is just a nice person who thought you were being picked on by the teacher.” Katie raised her eyes to give Lance an unimpressed look. “And you’re reading too much into it.”

The boy scowled at her. “What would you know, Pidge? I’ve never seen you with a girl before.”

“Yeah,” she raised an eyebrow, feeling smug that the other two wouldn’t understand the humor in this. “What do I know of girls?”

Katie had to suppress a laugh when Lance turned to her with a very confused expression. Hunk, however, gave her a small, secretive smile that set off all kinds of warning signs.

“I don’t get it,” Lance complained to Hunk, then turned back to her. “I don’t get it!”

“Well,” Hunk started and immediately her heart started pounding in her chest. Outwardly, Katie tried to remain impassive. “The girls in our class all love Pidge.”

“They do?!” Lance burst out, eyes widened. His gaze shifted back and forth between her and Hunk.

They didn’t, Katie was pretty sure. Did they?

“They think he’s cute,” Hunk confirmed, waving his fork in the air as if trying to recall the exact words. “Pidge is quiet, but he’s smart and mostly polite, so Denise decided he was a good guy and the rest of the girls kinda followed her lead.”

Now that Katie thought about it, it was true that she’d helped Denise with her Bio homework and that people had been nicer to her since. She supposed they could see Pidge in a good light, especially because he seemed so much younger than the other students in Engineering.

Katie blinked rapidly to dispel her thoughts. She’d been thinking of Pidge in the third person, again.

“Fine, then.” Lance narrowed his eyes at Katie. “What miraculous advice do you have for me, oh Great Pidgeon?”

Despite his sarcasm, it was clear that Lance truly wanted an answer. It was one of the most ridiculous situations Katie had ever found herself in.

“How about you show some interest in what these girls like, instead of showboating around them?” She flicked a fry at him, which Hunk quickly stole for himself. “Sure, some people want to be impressed, but we all got into the Garrison and a lot of them already know your grades on the simulator. Most girls want someone who will listen and who they can have fun with.”

“I can be fun!” Lance protested.

“I get what Pidge’s saying, though,” Hunk intervened. Katie hadn’t meant to be harsh, but Lance suddenly looked a little deflated. “We know that you’re great, but you’re always so busy trying to be what these girls want from you that you don’t really get to know them. A little kindness goes a long way.”

Katie nodded along, munching on her burger. “No girl wants an egocentric boyfriend,” she added, mouth still half full. Lance glared at her in both disgust and indignancy.

“I don’t want to hear this from you, Mister I’m-not-here-to-make-friends!”

She shrugged and continued to eat her burger.

“Okay, okay…” Hunk put his hands up placatingly. “How about I get us some dessert and we change the subject?”

Lance glanced at him through the corner of his eyes. “Those guava-flavored popsicles?”

“You know it!” Hunk grinned back at him and the two shared a high-five.

“You’re so easy to please,” Katie commented once Hunk had gotten up. She used her last fry to soak up the mayo leftover on her plate.

Lance glared at her for a moment, before letting the last of his annoyance slip away. He reached into his backpack and took out an apple.

“Here.” He deposited it on her tray.

Katie frowned at him. “What is this?”

“You always eat fruit after we get something greasy, right?” he asked it casually, distracted by trying to squeeze ketchup onto his remaining fries. The condiment bottles in the cafeteria were continuously blocked.

“Yeah.” She blinked up at him, caught by surprise. Her voice had gone soft and she had to clear her throat to dispel the emotion that knotted there. “I didn’t think you would remember.”

Lance looked up from his food to give her an exaggerated eye-roll.

“You’re my friend, Pidge.” He kicked her under the table. “In spite of all your efforts to keep me away.”

She stayed silent for a moment, staring at the apple.

“Thank you,” she said. I’m sorry, she wanted to add, but it would make no sense to him. As far as Lance knew, Pidge was cold and self-involved and clinical to a fault.

“Don’t mention it!” He threw a fry up and tried to catch it with his mouth, but it merely bounced off his nose, marking it with ketchup. “Dang! One more!”

Katie let out a breath of laughter. Then, sitting up to better her odds, she waved at Lance. “Try me.”

By the time Hunk returned, Katie was biting into her apple as Lance complained about the ketchup stains he’d gotten on his uniform jacket.

--

She didn’t know what had driven her away from the dorms that day. There was a restless energy within her that demanded space and, though she’d never been the biggest fan of nature, it had sent her directly into the Arizona desert.

Katie felt like Pidge, today. Not like Pidge Gunderson, but like the little girl who’d yelled a misheard swearword at locked doors, until her brother had come to her rescue. She felt young and impulsive and alive, despite the grief that still weighted on her shoulders.

More than anything, she missed her mom.

In Katie’s eyes, Coleen Holt knew everything there was to know about agriculture and plant life. She was a different kind of genius from her father and brother, possessing a peacefulness about her that none of the other Holts could ever hope for. It had been a comfort through the years of Katie’s adolescence.

Sitting underneath one of the few trees distributed across the Garrison grounds reminded Katie of her grandmother’s place in Italy, where the fruit trees spread as far as the horizon. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine the sweet smells that rose from the vegetation.

“I wonder if they have lemon trees here,” she murmured to herself.

“I don’t think they do, Pidge.”

Katie lurched back in shock. She felt her shoulder scrape against the tree trunk and had to stretch out an arm to keep from falling. Lance sent her a carefree grin, bent down at the waist to look her in the eye, as he usually did. It irritated Katie to no end, not only for how condescending it was, but because it always put him too far into her personal bubble.

“What are you even doing here, Lance?” she asked once her heartrate had gone down.

“I saw you through a window and thought we could eat together, since Hunk is sick.” He looked pointedly at the half-eaten sandwich she’d tossed in her surprise. “I see you started without me.”

“Well, now I’ll have to buy something else for lunch, so thanks for that,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Don’t be like that, Pidgeon.” Lance poked her on the ribs. “I even brought you something as a bribe.” And then he extended an apple towards her.

Katie took it, trying to cover up her amusement with exasperation. “Do you think I’m obsessed with apples or something?”

“Next time I’ll bring you a lemon,” he teased.

Maybe it was because she felt more herself than she had in weeks, but Katie snickered at him. While his sanguinity could be exhausting, this time it was a welcome relief from the stagnation she’d fallen under.

Lance pulled out a sandwich from his pack, one of those 30 centimeters subs in Italian bread and multiple fixings, and Katie felt her mouth water at the sight. He must have noticed, because Lance chuckled and broke out one end for her.

“I think this is a palo verde,” he remarked after swallowing his first bite. At a confused look from Katie, he clarified, “the tree. You were talking about it before, right?”

“You speak Spanish?”

“Yeah…” He sounded like he was laughing at her. “I’m Cuban.”

Katie suddenly felt very stupid. He and Hunk had probably mentioned this already, but she didn’t pay them that much attention. It was a little embarrassing, especially when Lance seemed to be memorizing every small piece of information she offered him.

“Oh.” She searched for the right thing to say. “I didn’t know. Your last name sounds American.”

The whole situation left in her a sense of déjà vu. She couldn’t quite remember why, but the words pulled at her memory.

Thankfully, Lance took it in stride. “Our family has been to the US, then back to Cuba, then back to the US for generations. My whole name is actually Lance Serrano Mcclain.”

She nodded. Normally Katie would let the conversation drop and focus on finishing her meal, but she had already decided to take a bit of a break that day, in order to be more attentive at night. It couldn’t hurt to find out more about her teammate.

“So… Palo verde?”

“It means green stick, which seems kind of unfair, because this tree is actually pretty big, especially for the climate around here.” Lance fanned himself. “I hate how dry it gets.”

She almost agreed with him, but, as far as Lance and Hunk were concerned, Pidge Gunderson had no reason to have been outside of Arizona. Instead, she pretended to ponder his comment.

“The desert can be pretty unpredictable. The lack of humidity during the day is bad, but I wouldn’t want to be caught out when the temperatures drop.”

Lance faked a shiver. “Don’t even talk about that! I have too much tropical blood to handle the cold well. Hunk’s Samoan, by the way,” and there was unnecessary emphasis to his words here, “so he’s the same.”

“I didn’t realize both of you weren’t from around here.” Katie could imagine how much they missed their families. Choosing to voluntarily leave so that they could study at the Garrison must have been difficult.

“That’s nice to hear.”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“It’s just…” He scrunched up his nose, as if he wanted to take back the words as he said them. “You were so cold to us when we first met, we weren’t sure what it was about.”

It was her turn to grimace. Katie hadn’t wanted to seem like so much of a jerk. She could be snappish and patronizing, even with those she loved, but her haughtiness towards her teammates had been a façade created to keep them out. Not that it did any good.

“Ugh, you’re already closed off, again.” Lance threw his head back in frustration. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“It’s just personal, Lance.” Katie played with the apple in her hands. “I swear it’s not about you two.”

Without looking directly at him, she couldn’t tell what expression Lance was making. He stared at her, letting the silence extend.

Then he popped the last of the sub into his mouth, spreading back onto the grass.

“We will pester it out of you.” She turned to see him grinning. The confidence there was a quiet thing, so much different than Lance’s usual hyperboles and that much more effective. She felt dazed by it. “Eventually.”

Katie had never understood what the girls in her school meant when they talked about crushes. They always seemed frivolous, going on about someone’s hair or how handsome they were or how strong. Meanwhile, Katie had simply hoped for a friend, for a respite to the unending mocking.

Still, Lance suddenly looked very interesting under this light. His chin was too pointed to be considered attractive, but his blue eyes caught the sunshine like polished stone. He could be funny and thoughtful and inventive, attributes Katie hadn’t expected to value.

She moved her gaze to where another group of students was sitting, uncertain if the heat running up her neck would translate into a damning blush. She bit into the apple to keep from incriminating herself further.

[flourchildwrites]

Kerosene

Six years after their escape to the human world, the Grace Field children live together in a happy, harmonious home. Twenty-one-year-olds, Ray, Norman and Emma, have folded themselves into modern society and work tirelessly to provide for their younger siblings, putting the greater good of their family before their personal needs. But as children turn to into teenagers, new house rules come into play. Norman, convinced that Emma will never remember their unique childhood bond, makes a bold proposition — to prohibit romantic relationships between the Grace Field children and end his hopes for someone more with Emma once and for all.

Ray knows all too well how dangerous it is to reignite a spark, but for the happiness of Emma and Norman, he's always been willing to burn.

Fandom:  Yakusoku no Neverland | The Promised Neverland (Manga)

Relationships/Pairings:  Emma/Norman (Endgame), Emma/Ray (Fake Dating), Norman & Ray, Emma & Ray

Genre:  Post-Canon (Spoilers for Anime-Only Fans), Fake/Pretend Relationship

Rating:  Mature

Word Count:  3,545 words (incomplete 1/5)

Read on AO3

Chapter 1

Norman is smart. This is not an opinion; it’s a fact. Ray regards Norman’s enormous IQ as a constant in his life.

He’s smart when he anticipates Ray’s master plan for retribution and shrewd for showing him a better path.

He’s smart as he takes up the mantle of William Minerva and cold-hearted for his genocidal machinations.

Norman’s still smart after the promise is reforged, and in the aftermath, he’s determined to keep their family together.

Smart, shrewd, cold-hearted and determined — these are the reasons it’s Norman (and not Ray) who becomes the family head. And for this, Ray is grateful.

They live with their family in a house where no one has a last name. Ray’s many siblings bound up and down the staircase of their modern abode. Useless numbers ring around the left side of their necks in bold, black strokes. Their house matches their marks because it also stands out from the crowd. Its large rooms are rarely silent; the scuffed wooden floors are well-loved by both bare feet and the small soles of children’s shoes.

However, the basement, a place that is solely Ray’s domain, remains the exception rather than the rule, and it’s perfect for a particular hobby. He knows there are easier ways to develop film, but Ray relishes the moments he spends alone after work. At 21 years-of-age, his days are filled with the hustle and bustle of a busy auto garage. Motor oil and grime smear against the thick polyester of his work coveralls, but Ray doesn’t mind. The elbow grease of his day job mixes well with the acidic smell of his lemon-scented stop bath, and Ray spends the 10 seconds it takes for the solution to work its magic to admire the contents of his humble darkroom.

It’s not much more than a basement corner sectioned off by a pair of thick curtains. A secondhand developer sits beside a series of three trays. The neat scene is lit by a red safelight that emits a ghoulish glow.

Ray slips the image from the stop bath solution and into the fixer with his tongs. Satisfied, he smirks as a black and white version of Anna in her graduation cap and gown grins pleasantly back at him, surrounded by her family.  He thinks she’ll like it as a memento from her graduation party, and Ray’s mentally picking out a frame when he rinses the image and hangs it to dry alongside a headshot of Natt.

By now, a few of his Grace Field siblings have left the house, spread to distant corners of the modern world for work, college or other chosen pursuits. Ray tells himself to smile when they bid him goodbye or, better yet, scoff with an acerbic retort on the tip of his tongue (since that’s what everyone expects). But there’s a peculiar absence that follows each departure, empty chairs and untouched beds that remain uncomfortably unused.

Of course, they all write and visit — truly, they do. Except the letters grow fewer and farther between. The visits are shorter, and honestly, this trend is the natural course of affairs, a sign that despite their tumultuous adolescence, normalcy is possible.

That’s a good thing, right?

Still, Ray misses them, though he isn’t one to admit his feelings so freely. Ever the charismatic leader, Norman says it should get easier, and as usual, he’s not wrong. But in Ray’s opinion, there is an unforgivable apathy in always believing what you’re told. He’s never been good at leaving flimsy rationale untested, fond of scheming when the situation leaves loose threads that are ripe for tugging. Time can quell neither his rebellious streak nor his spiky hairstyle.

He’s in no hurry to change either.

Keep Reading

[cheapbondcleaning]

Basic Tips to Keep the Kitchen Clean and Hygienic

Essential tips to keep the kitchen clean and hygienic

The kitchen is often considered the heart of the home. It is the place where food prepared, so it is of utmost priority to adhere to the best hygiene and cleanliness standards. Health should always be the most prior thing. The basics of keeping a kitchen clean are to ensure that all surfaces are clean. Small changes in your habits like washing hands and dishes regularly can also help you keep your kitchen tidy and hygienic. This reduces the risk of contamination exponentially. The kitchen is one of the busiest rooms in the house. The following tips will help you keep your kitchen clean and sanitized with the minimum effort, especially when you are on a tight schedule.

Here some essential tips for kitchen cleaning:

● Gas Stove: A gas stove is the most used equipment in the kitchen, so naturally most prone to get dirty. It can become a breeding ground for many infections and dangerous microorganisms. So it is essential to clean the gas stoves after every meal you cook with detergent and water.

● Counters and slabs: Kitchen counters and slabs are where most kitchen ingredients are kept, including vegetables and fruits, so the surface should always be clean to avoid contamination while preparing a meal. Cleaning the slabs with disinfectants is the best way to keep them sanitized.

● Vegetables and fruits: The kitchen and the food we eat should be clean and of the best quality. It is essential to clean the vegetables thoroughly before having them. Also, having seasonal fruits and vegetables is advisable

● utensils: A necessary subset of food safety is the utensils and the containers in which the food stored. All the containers and utensils which come in contact with food should appropriately be cleaned. The utensils should be washed every day with soap or a detergent to get rid of any germs, and they should be dried before use.

● Equipment: Refrigerators, mixtures, microwaves, ovens and many more. These are some of the equipment found in a typical kitchen. Your food somehow ends up in one of these pieces of equipment, so they must be cleaned every day and sanitized properly and dried before using.

Cleaning can become tedious and hectic, so here are some kitchen hacks which will help you keep your kitchen sparkling:

● Trash: your disposal should always be empty and never smell bad. Few things in the kitchen can be foul and disturb your mood, and a dirty trash can is one of those things. To get rid of those smells, you can use rock salt, lemon ice cubes and water.

● Oven cleaning: Make a homemade solution of water vinegar and baking soda, remove the grates and the coat of the oven along with the heating element, close the door of the oven and let it rest for twelve hours. Next morning clean the solution using a sponge and water, dry the range, and your oven is ready to be used and is cleaned.

● Cabinets: A great hack to clean all the kitchen cabinets use the regular vacuum cleaner you use at your home. Vacuum all the cabinets to get rid of all the dirt in the cupboards.

● Disposal guard: Many food remnants can hinder the disposal guard; to get rid of those food remnants, you can use an old toothbrush. Take the old toothbrush and soak it in an anti-grease solution and turn the flap inside out. Move the brush to scrub off any food waste.

● Steamer: A steamer is used to de-wrinkle your clothes; you must be wondering what it is doing in a kitchen cleaning tip. You can use a steamer to clean up the stovetops, cabinet doors and all of the kitchen if they are grimy.

● Hand washed dishes: When you hand wash dishes, it is of utmost importance that they are adequately dried. Otherwise, they get some stains, so to prevent those stains, you can use the dishwasher trays to dry up the hand-washed dishes, and they can be dried pretty quickly.

● Treating Hard water: If you live in an area with a lot of hard water, you know the struggle to wash dishes as it leaves back stains. To get rid of those stains, you can use vinegar while washing your words in the dishwasher. The vinegar will help you combat the hard water, and you will have shiny plates.

These are some quick and good hacks for kitchen cleaning, which you might want to use the next time to get a sparkling kitchen.

Cleaning your kitchen every day can become a very hectic task, and as a result.

Best Bond Cleaners Near You

Sometimes people are too much busy, and they haven’t time to clean their house properly. To clean your house properly, you need to hire professionals that will clean your home for you. Here we introduce “Cheap Bond Cleaning Group”. “Cheap Bond Cleaning Group” one of the best bond cleaning service providers in Brisbane, Gold Coast, Adelaide & Sydney. CBCG has professional bond cleaners that will help you to keep your house clean. Choose them and save your home from dust & unwanted guest.

Originally published at https://homebondcleaningbrisbane.blogspot.com on May 24, 2021.

[divineecelestial]

Out of Your League — One

PAIRINGS — BUCKY BARNES X READER

SERIES SUMMARY — IN WHICH BUCKY BARNES GAINS A CRUSH ON A WOMAN SO OUT OF HIS LEAGUE.

PROLOGUE 

CHAPTER ONE — Bucky can’t seem to focus on his breakfast with you around.

“You’re staring again.” Sam, although he was dreadfully exasperating with his satirical remarks, was awfully perceptive. Dusk was overhead, the dark-blue skies established partial darkness that colored the kitchen room with a delicate gloom. With an insolent smirk, Sam poured the amber-colored syrup over his stack of pancakes with his fork perched in his other hand. From across the room, music lowly echoed through the room as you used a dull black spatula to make pancakes and scrambled eggs. You were mindlessly swaying to the faint song, your silk pajamas delightfully thin and tight. 

Bucky apprehensively removed his softened gaze from your careless, lithe figure and stabbed his fork into the stack of golden brown pancakes. “What,” He rhetorically asked, shoving a mouthful of buttered pancakes in his mouth while shifting uncomfortably in his chair. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His voice was muffled and a trickle of maple syrup dripped down the side of his chin. Of course, he knew what Sam was talking about. 

“You’re practically drooling,” Sam replied, referring to the syrup sticking to his beard. Bucky didn’t respond, merely wiped the dribble away and glared, obviously unamused by Sam’s vocal observations. He wasn’t staring, he tried to convince himself. He was admiring. You were listening to the music with a gentle expression and your hair messily framed your face. You enthusiastically scooped a spoonful of bright yellow scrambled eggs and flopped them down on an ornate plate. As you flicked the stove off and whirled around, Bucky hurriedly glanced down at the nearly barren plate, gathering his composure as you pulled a chair beside him. 

You were immersed in sipping your fresh orange juice and Sam took advantage of your blissful ignorance to provide a severely unwanted and suggestive look. He gathered his empty dishes and placed them in the sink before leaving the kitchen, not-so-subtly performing a series of inappropriate gestures before disappearing from view.

As the placid silence thickened between you and Bucky, the ambiance surrounding you became increasingly obvious; the jubilant chirping from the birds cowering away in dewy branches, the leftover crackling from the grease you cooked bacon on, the wordless music that drifted into nothingness. Lithely, you centralized your focus on him. He mimicked you, his eyes tender as they traveled over your bare face. Unexpectedly, you quietly chuckled. “You have a piece of pancake in your hair,” You said, easing his concerns. You absentmindedly reached for the remnant, your dainty hands delicately pulling at the ends of his hair. Your hand brushed against his beard, caressing his bare skin. Your doe-eyes never faltered from his and the intimacy rippling through them was virile. “It’s nice your voice was the first thing I heard today.” You mused, peering upward through your thick lashes, gentle-like.

You were awakened from the colorful fragments of your dreams to the silence of the headquarters, calm and tranquil. You didn’t mind making breakfast, especially when your music entertained you while flipping golden-brown pancakes. You knew the moment of unbothered relaxation was momentary, especially when you knew Sam was going to smell freshly cooked bacon and barge into the kitchen as if he hadn’t eaten in months. You were savoring the serenely quiet occasion. 

Then he appeared—harmless and apprehensive as he complimented your cooking abilities. His voice wasn’t a disturbance or a bother. You greeted him, serving him a perfectly stacked pile and poured the syrup for him. Bucky was mesmerized by the simplicity of your actions; they were angelical and selfless. Of course, you didn’t need to make him breakfast and happily serve him with no annoyance visible in your eyes, but you did anyway. Bucky wasn’t sure when the last time someone served him food that wasn’t carelessly splattered on a rusted tray and tossed his direction. The simplicity of your harmless gesture was baffling. Was he seriously entranced by you pouring syrup on his pancakes? 

Bucky absentmindedly moved closer to you. Your exposed thigh caressed his clothed one. When he didn’t respond, you shoved a greasy piece of bacon between your teeth. “Why do you always seem so surprised with my flattery,” You questioned, resting your cheek on your palm as you gave him your undivided attention. “I just think you’re really special. You deserve special things.” Bucky liked that about you. You were candid, unintimidated by affection.

He pushed his empty plate away from him, rotating his muscular body to completely face you. “Most people would disagree.” You replicated his movements, resulting in both your thighs intertwined, gently brushing against each other. He wasn’t particularly liked by lower-ranking agents, not that he minded or was negatively impacted by their dislike, but he knew his former Winter Soldier status wasn’t easily forgotten.

“I don’t care about other people. I care about you,” Your voice was fragranced with a honeyed softness. Your smaller hand caressed his, your touch lingering like a feather. “I’ve always cared about you.” Ever since he arrived at the compound, you were there to be the anchor of familiarity in this compound of unfamiliarity. It had been two months since he was introduced to you, a moment that was engraved within his mind because you were so welcoming and involuntarily charming and pretty when you described in vivid detail how you brutally murdered a squad of goons with your perfectly-manicured hands—hands that were brushing against his lightly in a distracting softness. 

Bucky sipped his orange juice tentatively. “You and Steve might be the only ones.” He had his friends here, obviously. Steve was his brother, always by his side. Sam, although incredibly annoying and pesky, considered him a friend, but he was still closer to Steve. He was cordial to everyone else, as they were to him, but the connection still hadn’t bonded completely yet.

You chuckled as he finished drinking the remainder of his juice. “Seems like a ridiculous thing to say, don’t you think? Especially considering how untrue it is.” 

“I don’t know,” He shrugged. “All the other agents hate me.”

You grabbed his hands, the warmth you radiated finally enveloped his skin. “Those people have no idea what they’re missing. I’ve never come across a greater pleasure than knowing you, James Buchanan Barnes.”

Bucky swallowed the lump lodged within his throat. “I like when you say  my name.” He admitted in a soft, unsure voice. 

You smiled tenderly. “Well, James Buchanan Barnes, I don’t like it when you say self- deprecating things like that,” You brought his reflective, metal hand to your plump lips, eyes fluttering at him. “You’re a wonderful person, don’t forget that.”

Bucky could have collapsed at the feeling of your tempting lips on him, but your amused smile distracted him. “You’re blushing so hard and I haven’t even properly kissed you yet.” As the words escaped your mouth, Bucky wasn’t entirely sure if he had heard you correctly. He couldn’t find the words to respond, it was if his tongue was jumbled and tied. You stood from your chair, purposely allowing a glimpse of your bare skin peeking from beneath your silk pajamas. “All in good time, Bucky. There’s no rush.”

As you departed from view and he could no longer hear your light footsteps, Bucky unstiffened and slumped back onto his chair, releasing a shaky breath he didn’t even know he was holding. He glanced at the spot on his hand where your lips had been seconds ago. Yeah, he was definitely, irrevocably, and undoubtedly fucked. 

Sam and Steve emerged from the hallway with proud and excited expressions. Sam slapped his back in a brotherly manner. “I have no idea how someone like (Y/N) is interested in someone like you, but get it, brother.” 

Bucky furrowed his brows. “Wait—”

Steve playfully nudged Sam. “Come on, we have to be supportive.”

“You’re telling me it makes sense that (Y/N) is giving him the time of day?” 

There was a moment of silence. “I mean—”

Bucky stood and left the room, ignoring Sam’s laughter. And as his back was towards them, he couldn’t contain the small mutter. “Assholes.”

TAGS —

@mielfromvenus

[lovelyirony]

Hmm Im just drinking some Respect Rhodey Juice tonight and was wondering if you would write smth about his journey/struggles of life and ppl who doubt him (and then eat their words when he looks fabulous and kicks ass)

A lot of people know Tony Stark’s story. They know that he considers Rhodey to be the best person in the world. He was in ROTC training, Tony made fun of him, but they ended up bonding over engineering and some inside joke at MIT.

They don’t know the whole story.

So here it is.

Rhodey grew up in a relatively nice household in Philadelphia. He still considers some aspect of that to be home, no matter if he hasn’t lived there since high school.

He remembers his dad’s low humming on Sunday mornings when he was a kid, the way he smiled at him.

“Hey Jimmy,” he would say quietly. “Wanna surprise mama with breakfast?”

Mama acted surprised every single time, even if every Sunday she got breakfast on a tray. Rhodey would grin brightly up at his mother and clamber into her bed to steal the “extra” piece of bacon.

(His dad cooked three slices, and saved one for his son.)

He remembers that his sister Jeannette was born when he was four years old, and he did not appreciate having a sister.

“You have to be a good role model for her, sugar,” Mama had told him. She was tired from the hospital, and had handed Jeannette to Dad. “She needs a good big brother.”

Rhodey doesn’t get why his mom is so insistent on that, having a good big brother. It isn’t until he’s eight and Mama’s own older brother comes asking for a car or some money for his new business that he understands that Mama had a very different sort of life. One that they don’t talk about.

So he grabs his dollar and walks his sister to the corner store and gets her a popsicle that dribbles down her chin. She got watermelon flavor.

“Thanks Jim,” Jeannette says, grinning. “You’re the best!”

He vows to always be the best for her.

Always.

Including an academic example. He scores excellently on his tests, enough to catch the notice of the private education institution. They send a nice lady to talk to Mama and Dad about the possibility of him learning there instead of his regular school.

They agree. Rhodey doesn’t exactly want to go, but gets that this is an opportunity.

The school is nearly all-white. That’s...weird. They look at him differently, ask weird questions. He keeps his head down, focuses on studying. He doesn’t realize it yet, but these people have never had to worry about their race.

He’s still a good student. He’s in the top ten, and people whisper and say that it’s because he’s black.

He stares them down and asks if they have a problem with the color of skin he has.

They stammer out a no, but he knows. He knows that they think that he’s gotten all sorts of advantages, and some will never believe that his success is merit-based. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, and he comes home angry.

“Be better,” Mama tells him, smoothing her hand over his face. “You know you’re better than what they always say. You just gotta keep going.”

-

It’s around this time that they go to the Franklin Institute.

And it’s there that he gets introduced into flight travel and falls in love.

He wants to know how planes work. He wants to know why they use some materials but not others, how it works.

“You could go into the Air Force,” his dad chuckles one night.

“Are you gonna be a pilot?” Jeannette asks, looking up from her toys. “You’d be a good pilot.”

“Maybe,” he tells them. “Maybe.”

The military is his best bet.

Come high school, he starts training immediately. He’s a good kid, all things considered. He follows orders well, is intuitive to what comes next, and his officer lets other officials know that this kid will be a good guy.

Assuming, of course, that they let Rhodey into a position of power. He wants to be a good pilot, he wants to have a good job that’s kind of safe.

He also needs to figure out college. He knows he needs a college degree, needs something to show that he is who he says he is.

Rhodey gets a full ride to MIT. His dad sighs and looks at him.

“Son, I need to talk to you...”

“I know I can do this,” Rhodey says determinedly. “I know that I can do a college education, I know I can prove others wrong, and--”

“I know that,” his father says. “But really...Boston?”

His mother laughs for a long while, and makes her husband promise to visit their son, even if they do have to voluntarily go to Boston.

When they move him in, they’re greeted with one Tony Stark chasing after a robot who has grabbed a broom and is wreaking havoc in the apartment.

“Hi,” Tony heaves. “Sorry to be meeting you all like this, I sincerely did mean to be presentable. I’m Tony Stark, nice to meet you.”

His parents are scared of Tony, all things considered. He’s a kid with too much influence on the world. If he says one wrong thing...Rhodey’s finished.

Rhodey holds no such fear because Tony is standing in mismatched socks and chasing after a robot.

When his parents leave and his teenage sister actually gives him a hug, he’s left in the room.

“You want pizza?” Tony asks, blinking. “I’m ordering a pizza.”

They sit together and eat pizza that has too much grease on it, and Tony asks all about Philadelphia. He’s never traveled there, and wants to know if people really do run up the stairs like in the movie Rocky.

Rhodey answers yes, unfortunately, a lot of tourists do that.  Tony laughs.

He talks about New York, everything that people get wrong or right about it.

Then they decide to compare class schedules, and it turns out they have a lot of the same classes.

Rhodey likes being friends with Tony. He’s an easy guy to fall into friendship with. He’s not expecting anything from him, just that he likes some food and tells Tony to knock it off if he’s being annoying.

ROTC training is still going well. Tony makes fun of the uniform and teases him, but also helps make sure his pants are ironed in time.

“I swear to god if I told anyone you were an Iron-kinda-Man, they wouldn’t believe me,” Rhodey teases him. “Thanks.”

He presses a kiss to Tony’s forehead before he rushes out.

-

The Air Force loves him. He’s in aerodynamic engineering, getting the best grades in the class, and has proven time and time again to be a natural-born leader. His very presence commands attention, and the guys around him respect him quite well.

He’s offered a position after graduation to become a pilot.

He’s flying high.

-

His parents, of course, are proud. They host a party with all their friends and family, and Rhodey truly feels like this is it.

Of course, it’s not easy. Nothing ever is. He has to command men and women, go against what others say. He was one of the first in his unit to advocate for women to be part of the team.

“They’re too emotional,” Kennick had remarked.

“And just who nearly cried because their football team didn’t make it to the Superbowl?” Rhodey asks him. “Because it sure as hell wasn’t your wife or daughter, Kennick.”

The rest of the team howls in laughter, and Rhodey smiles to himself.

Tony is still his best friend. They call each other often, although Tony is busier with the company now. Rhodey acts as a sort of liaison for the negotiations between SI and the military.

Tony sends him care packages that host a wild variety of things, ranging from quite the bottle of Scotch to four different McDonald’s Happy Meal Toys.

“Why the toys?”

“Kids keep leaving them in the SI building after their school tour. I have to do something with them.”

(Rhodey takes pictures of them around the base and nearly compromises a secret mission.

It’s worth it.)

But Rhodey’s life is good. It has its ups and downs, but he got what he wanted. And when he sees the other kids from his school who looked at him weird, the teachers who told him to “aim a bit lower” than his goals, he smiles.

He especially likes to smile to himself when he wakes up next to Tony, who smiles at him like he has all the stars in the world.

[bestshousekeeping]

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[atlantahoodcleaningpros]

Restaurant Hood Cleaning

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The kitchen area exhaust system is made to pull oil-laden smoke up into the hood and to the filters where it is filteringed system, reversed right into grease after that cleared right into a catch tray. The 3 standard hood designs are the cover, the galley, and also the downdraft. The closer the hood is to the cooking surface, a lot more effective it is.

The hood is where the initial filtering of the smoke takes place.

The dimension of the hood relies on the kind of food preparation equipment as well as the real size of the devices being utilized. There are 2 kinds of business hoods in dining establishments. First is the Type 1 which is utilized over grease generating equipment. By regulation, these hoods should be continuously bonded and have to be suspended by non-combustible hangers. Type 2 hoods may be made use of over devices that just produce vapor, fumes, and odors only! They additionally do not call for filters. It is a dining establishment hood cleaning up firm's duty to inform the proprietor in composing that a Type 2 system over grease creating equipment does not fire-safe as a result of its building.

If dampers are installed in the throat of the hood, there needs to be accessible for proper cleaning.

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[acowlorsomething]

“...I mean... what I’m saying, Ben, is that I’m sorry I shut you out. I’m sorry I didn’t stay with you. No, no. Ignore that last bit. I don’t mean to imply that I wish I’d stayed. I just… I just don’t know what I’m on about, really.”

The whisper-soft words end on a note of frustration as Rey yanks a handful of red wires from an ancient imperial probe droid and turns her attention to the blue. She works automatically; her fingers going through the motions of sifting through wires and tracing them to their components, while her mind is fixed on the memory of pleading eyes and an outstretched hand. 

“It’s stupid - utterly stupid - that I’m losing sleep over this. Are you worth it? Of course not. But it’s been three weeks, Ben,” sighing, Rey leans back on her haunches and considers the droid’s damaged shell with a skeptical eye. “Three weeks. And I still haven’t heard from you.”

“Heard from who?”

Jumping in surprise, Rey sends the droid toppling as she turns towards the cargo hold entrance.

“Heard from who?” she repeats dumbly.

“Heard from…” Finn pauses, puzzled. “Rey, that’s what I just asked you.”

“Right, of course,” grabbing a rag, she wipes it over her forehead, unwittingly leaving a smudge of grease across her brow before pointing to a tray of tools behind him. “Can you hand me the hydrospanner?”

Without shifting his focus, Finn reaches behind himself, snatches up a laser pointer and throws it to her. “Heard from who, Rey?”

****

CONVERSATIONS - Chapter Five Teaser Edit: Because this story has gone on a deeper tangent than the ‘series of Force bond one shots that loosely tie together’ that this story is meant to be, I’m currently considering tweaking it to fit with a different fic. I’m not sure. I’m a bag of cats. Here’s a teaser anyway. *shrugs*

Read the rest of the fic: AO3 | FFNET

[steve-rogers-new-york]

Recipe Wednesday #32

Happy Recipe Wednesday!

These are real period recipes, taken from the Brooklyn Daily Eagle, a local newspaper that would have been accessible to Steve, his mother, and Bucky during their time in Brooklyn.

This week’s recipes come from Thurs 14th, Fri 15th, Tues 19th March and Wed 4th, Thurs 5th May 1938 edition of the Brooklyn Daily Eagle. For context, Steve would have been 17 (comics) / 19 (MCU)

Grape Iced Tea 3 teaspoons tea 3 cups boiling water 2 cups pure grape juice (Wayne County Pure) 4 tablespoons sugar Juice of two lemons Pour the boiling water over the tea, cover closely and allow to stand 15 minutes. Then strain, add sugar, lemon juice and the pure grape juice. Chill thoroughly. Some hostesses prefer to omit the lemon juice, just adding the pure grape juice to the iced tea.

Frosted Grape Juice Whip 1 liberal scoop of vanilla cream ¾ cup grape juice (Wayne County Pure) Whip together until ice cream is thoroughly dissolved. Serve either with or without straws. Perhaps the combination of gingerale and grape juice is not new to you. But it is still as good as the first day these two popular beverages were blended. Combine equal parts of chilled grape juice and gingerale results in a most delicious and refreshing drink.

Cheese and Egg Bake 6 slices Bond bread, buttered 2 eggs, beaten 1 ½ cups milk 1 teaspoon salt ½ teaspoon paprika ½ teaspoon prepared mustard 2 cups grated cheese ½ cup buttered dry Bond crumbs Cut the bread slices in half and arrange in bottom and sides of a buttered casserole. Combine eggs, milk, seasonings and cheese. Pour into casserole, cover with buttered crumbs and bake in moderate oven, 375 F. 20 minutes.

Eggs in Bread Case 12 slices Bond bread 1-3 cup softened butter 6 eggs Salt and pepper Butter six slices of bread. Cut out circles from the other six slices with a cookie cutter, and place on top of the buttered slices. Butter top slice and bread an egg into each circle. Sprinkle with salt and pepper, place on baking sheet and bake in hot oven, 475 F. 7 minutes, or until whites of eggs are set.

Banana Bran Muffins 1 1/8 cups milk, scalded ¾ cup dry Bond crumbs 1-3 cup bran 2 teaspoons butter 1 cup diced banana 3 tablespoons sugar ½ teaspoon salt 2 eggs, beaten 1 ½ teaspoon baking powder Pour scalded milk over crumbs, bran and butter, add sugar, salt, beaten eggs, baking powder and diced banana. Pour into well-buttered muffin pans and bake in hot oven. 400 F. 20 minutes.

Individual Strawberry Shortcakes 3 cups sifted cake flour 3 teaspoons double-acting baking powder 1 teaspoon salt ½ cup butter or other shortening ¾ cup milk 2 quarts strawberries, washed and hulled Sift flour once. Measure. Add baking powder and salt. Sift again. Cut in shortening. Add milk all at once and stir carefully until all flour is dampened. Then stir vigorously until mixture forms a soft dough and follows spoon around bowl.  Turn out immediately on slightly floured board and knead for 30 seconds. Roll a quarter of an inch thick and cut with floured biscuit cutter. Place half of circles on ungreased baking sheet. Brush with melted butter. Place remaining circles on top and butter tops well. Bake in hot oven (450 F.) 15 to 20 minutes. Cut strawberries in small pieces and sweeten slightly. Reserve eight whole berries for garnish. Separate halves of hot biscuits. Spread bottom halves with soft butter and some of sweetened strawberries. Place other halves on top crust-side down. Spread with butter and remaining berries. Garnish with whipped cream and whole berries.

Strawberry Tarts 1 package vanilla Kre-Mel ½ cup cream 2 cups hot milk 2 egg yolks ¼ cup sugar (if desired) Strawberries (sweetened) Pastry shells Dissolve Kre-Mel in cream; add hot milk and stir until it comes to a boil. Remove from stove; add beaten yolks; cook two minutes longer, stirring constantly. Chill. Pour some of the cream filling into each pastry shell; top with strawberries which have been sweetened.

Sweet Refrigerator Rolls 1 cake compressed yeast ½ cup sugar (Jack Frost) granulated). ¾ cup butter ½ cup milk, scalded 2 eggs 1 cup dairy made sour cream 4 ½ cups all-purpose sifted flour 1 ½ teaspoon salt Jack Frost Dark Brown sugar Crumble the yeast into a mixing bowl; add sugar and stir together until yeast liquefies. Let stand about 20 minutes. Meanwhile melt the butter in scalded milk. Beat eggs. Add sour cream. Blend well with yeast and sugar mixture. Add lukewarm milk and butter and flour all at once. Beat eight or ten minutes (automatic mixer good for the purpose). Place dough in covered dish and allow to stand over night in refrigerator before using. The dough may remain in refrigerator as long as five days without deterioration. The next day let dough rise in warm place to double its original bulk, or more. Knead in 1 ½ cups more flour. Roll out into two sheets about ¼-inch thick. Spread with thin layer of sour cream, sprinkle with brown sugar and add a few nut meats. Roll lengthwise. Cut like a jelly roll in slices [of] 1 ½ inches thick. Place in buttered muffin tins lined with brown sugar, nut meats and a dot of butter. Set in a warm place to rise to double their bulk. Bake at 400 degrees for 25 minutes, then reduce heat to 350 and bake about ten minutes longer. Yield—two dozen rolls. When only part of the dough is taken from refrigerator at a time, divide the amount of flour for kneading accordingly.

Kre-Mel Refigerator Ice Cream 1 package vanilla Kre-Mel 3 cups milk ½ cup Karo, Red Label 1/8 teaspoon salt ½ teaspoon vanilla 1 cup heavy cream Prepare Kre-Mel as directed on the package, adding Karo and extra milk before cooking. Chill in refrigerator tray. Fold in whipped cream, salt and vanilla and freeze until firm, stirring several times.

Circus Cake 3 squares unsweetened chocolate 2-3 cup water tablespoons granulated sugar 1 teaspoon vanilla 2 cups sifted cake flour 2 teaspoons double-acting baking powder ½ teaspoon soda ½ teaspoon salt 2-3 cup butter or other shortening 1 ¼ cups granulated sugar 3 eggs, well beaten 1-3 cup sour milk Combine chocolate, water and four tablespoons sugar in saucepan. Cook over slow fire until thick and smooth, stirring constantly. Let stand until cold, stirring occasionally. Add vanilla. Sift flour once. Measure. Add baking powder, soda and salt. And sift together three times. Cream butter thoroughly. Add rest of sugar gradually, and cream together until light and fluffy. Add eggs and beat well. Then add cold chocolate mixture and blend well. Add flour, alternately with milk, a small amount at a time, beating after each addition until smooth. Turn into two greased 9-inch layer pans. Bake in moderate oven (350 F.) 35 minutes, or until done. Place cake on round wooden serving board. Spread frosting between layers and on top and sides of cake. Arrange candy animals on top and around base of cake. Sprinkle toasted coconut and arrange unshelled peanuts on serving board around cake.

I’d love to hear if you try out any of these recipes! Take photos and I might post them on the blog.

Visit the Recipe Wednesday Masterpost for the all the Recipe Wednesday posts, and the Indexed Recipe Wednesday Masterpost for all the recipes broken down individually!

[ Support SRNY on Patreon! ]

This post is the result of meeting a Patreon Goal. Thank you to all my wonderful Patreon subscribers for enabling the return of the Recipe Wednesday posts!

[bbqtek]

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[moonstruckbucky]

Invisible

SUMMARY: The reader is, quite frankly, fed up with being second to Nancy "Goody-Two-Shoes" Wheeler.

PAIRING: Billy Hargrove x female Wheeler!Reader

WORD COUNT: 3.1k

REQUESTED: no

WARNINGS: Language [ya'll are gonna learn real quick that i have a straight up potty mouth], tooth-rotting fluff, slight Nancy-bashing [but it is not indicative of my own personal feelings towards Nancy, she’s a badass.]

Growing up as “the other Wheeler” was about as exciting as a nail through the eye. You were the middle sibling, serving to only add insult to injury. Virtually, you were the invisible one in the family, except when your father would ask why you couldn’t get grades like Nancy. Every time, it chipped away at your ever-dwindling self-confidence so that even you had begun to compare yourself to your older sister.

As for dating? Forget it. Your love life consisted of dating a boy for a few weeks until he had wormed his way closer to Nancy, and then you were history. You weren’t as pretty as Nancy, you weren’t as funny as Nancy (which was the only thing you disagreed with; you were downright hilarious while Nancy’s sense of humor bordered on non-existent).

You just weren’t Nancy.

You had a minor crush on Nancy’s boyfriend, Steve, when they first started dating, even though he barely considered the two of you to be friends. He tolerated you, as did everyone else. Nancy’s friends tolerated you when they invited Nancy out and said you could tag along too, if only out of respect for Nancy. But they never included you in conversation, never asked how your college applications were going. It was like you weren’t even there, and eventually you stopped going, and Nancy stopped asking.

The two of you weren’t particularly close, despite only being six months apart in age. She was focused on school and was too wrapped up in Steve to really worry about what her sister was or wasn’t getting up to. The only link between the two of you had been Barbara Holland, and once she’d disappeared and turned out to be dead, all ties between you and Nancy had been severed.

You went through the motions at Hawkins High School, throwing yourself into achieving the best grades you could to get into a school miles away from Hawkins, Indiana. Someplace where you wouldn’t just be known as “the other Wheeler”.

On a Thursday afternoon, you found yourself in the school library, nose buried in your American History textbook trying to retain the Gettysburg Address. You’d gotten your tests back earlier that day, and you’d just about failed. You hated the feeling of failure; every other aspect of your life was failure, so it was unacceptable for school to give you that feeling too.

The slamming of books on the desk jolted you from your position and you gasped loudly.

“Hey bookworm.”

You leered up into the face of the new kid, Billy Hargrove, who was wearing his signature smirk as he leaned on the chair across from you.

“Can I help you?” you grumbled, your heart rate slowing as you calmed down.

“Word has it you’re good at Algebra.” He pulled out the chair and sat down, completely uninvited.

“And?”

He tossed a stapled group of papers at you before folding his arms on the desk, leaning forward. You picked them up, taking in the circled red F on the page. Your eyes skimmed his answers quickly and then you tossed it back to him.

“Your formulas are wrong,” you observed before turning back to your book. The papers appeared in your line of sight again. “What do you want me to do about it?”

“Help me. Tutor me?” You raised an eyebrow at his almost pleading tone. “I can’t fail another class.”

“What’s in it for me besides loss of patience?” you snarked back, setting your book down.

“I can help you bring that History grade up.” Ignoring the sassy remark, he nodded at the test to your left, the failing grade bright against the paper. You gnawed on your lip for a while, weighing the pros and cons of trading tutoring sessions with Billy Hargrove.

You weren’t friends. In fact, the two of you couldn’t be more opposite. You’d seen him in the halls, parading around like a peacock surrounded by a gaggle of rowdy boys and girls who were drooling after him. You’d heard stories about him, how he moved from sunny California, how he picked fights over the smallest reasons, how he dated girls and left them heartbroken the next day. He was everything about high school you abhorred, and yet, you somehow found yourself agreeing to his stupid idea.

“Fuck this,” you whisper-yelled about an hour later, slamming your textbook closed. Billy had moved into the seat beside you to better go over his Algebra problems before moving onto History. You shoved the book away from you, fully fed up with trying to nail down important dates of the Civil War.

Billy smirked. “Didn’t know the other Wheeler had such a mouth on her.”

Bitterness settled in your gut at his remark, and you pursed your lips and pointedly looked in the other direction. It wasn’t anything you hadn’t heard before, but the way it came off Billy’s tongue sat heavy with you. Your leg started bouncing in annoyance as you fiddled with your pen, trying to will yourself not to cry over a comment you heard literally every day.

“Hey,” Billy then murmured, leaning forward to try and see your face. “You okay?”

“Just peachy,” you grumbled before gathering your belongings. “Tutoring’s over.”

You left him in the library, staring dumbfoundedly after you, and only when you stepped foot outside did you let your vision blur with the tears fighting to the surface. You climbed into your car after dumping your books on the passenger seat and punched the steering wheel, the horn honking once.

You weren’t exactly sure why you were so upset; after all, the comment was coming from Billy Hargrove of all people, so it wasn’t as if his opinion actually mattered. But somehow, it did. It cut you like a papercut, a quick swipe that gave way to an unrelenting sting. Maybe it was your subconscious finally giving up on trying to ignore it every time it slipped through someone’s teeth. Maybe that one time was enough straw to break the camel’s back.

God, you wished high school was over.

The drive home was silent and lonely, just like the rest of your life. While high school was supposed to help you figure out who you’d become in the real world, it seemed as if it was determined to point you in only one direction: Nancy’s shadow.

The house was quiet when you got home, and you found a note on the kitchen island that told you Nancy was out with Steve, Mike was at Will’s, and your parents had gone out for dinner. You sighed. It was typical that they forgot about you, leaving you to your own devices for dinner. You called your favorite Chinese place and ordered delivery and while you waited you showered, trying to scrub away the day’s events, cried a little in the shower over your pathetic life, and then put on a pair of pajamas and parked your ass on the couch for a horror movie binge.

Nancy never understood your fascination with the genre. You tried explaining it to her once, but she just looked at you like Sigourney Weaver looked at a Xenomorph and gave up on trying to “bond” with her sister.

The Chinese was delivered not long after you popped your Alien VHS into the player and changed the channel. You paid the driver and tipped him before closing the door and setting the bag on the coffee table. You dug out your orange chicken, fried rice, and spring rolls, popped the top on your can of Coke, and hit play on the movie.

The next day at school, there were whispers in the hallway about your tutoring session with Billy. Some girls glared and scoffed, while others merely analyzed you curiously. The boys just laughed.

What took you by surprise was the fact that your sister was standing beside your locker, looking every bit annoyed once she spotted you.

“What are you doing with Billy?” she hissed. “He’s a bad guy!”

You gave her a deadpan look as you swapped out your books. “I’m tutoring him in Algebra and he’s helping me with History. Besides, it isn’t like you actually care. They all eventually come crawling after you anyways.”

You slammed your locker closed and left Nancy gaping after you. As you entered your first period class, all conversation ceased and all eyes were on you. It was an uncomfortable walk to your seat in the middle of the room, the eyes of your peers burning into your head. You sat quietly and kept your head down, trying to block out the not-so-subtle whispers of the students around you.

By lunchtime, talk was buzzing through the school like rampant bees that “the other Wheeler was in the library with Billy and left in tears”. The story, of course, had been convoluted a multitude of ways that stretched it further and further from the truth until the final version was something along the lines of Billy, you, and a scandalous affair.

Normally, at lunch, you’d sit with Nancy, Steve, and the others even though you were never formally invited into conversation with them. Today, though, the look Nancy gave you when you entered the cafeteria told you you weren’t welcome. That was fine; sitting alone at a table made you feel less alone than when you were with Nancy and her cronies.

You pulled your lunch out of your bag despite not feeling very hungry, the cafeteria buzzing with activity as everyone tried to guess why you were suddenly sitting alone. Then conversation halted altogether, and a tray dropped down across from you, the school pizza dripping grease onto the napkin beneath it.

Billy Hargrove followed the path of the tray, settling on the chair across from you and popping the top on his can of soda. He met your surprised stare calmly and easily, and he winked over the top of his drink. You felt yourself blush and looked away from him shyly, suddenly wondering why all of the sudden he was paying attention to you of all people.

The answer to that question came later in the week. You were in the living room working on History homework on the coffee table, your headphones in. Tutoring with Billy had gone better after the event at lunch, and he’d fortunately kept the conversation to a minimum if it didn’t involve homework or your notes.

Your parents were home, but Nancy wasn’t. You bopped your head along to AC/DC, not seeing your mother come down the stairs in her bathrobe.

Karen was surprised to see a spitting image of the man on the cover of her trashy novel standing outside her front door, his shirt unbuttoned and showing off a good portion of his toned chest.

“Hi,” he said, turning the charm up to a hundred.

“Oh, are you here for Nancy?” she asked, hoping that his answer was no as she leaned against the doorway and pulled her hand from her robe, letting it fall open just a bit.

“No, no, not my type,” Billy replied, shaking his head with a smirk. “I’m actually here for Y/N.”

The surprise was clearly evident on Karen’s face since a boy hadn’t come calling for Y/N since her sophomore year. The expression on her face angered Billy, as if it was so unheard of for anyone to visit or even interact with her daughter. What kind of mother is she?

“Oh, she’s, um, she’s in the living room. Um, come on in.” Karen stepped aside and Billy sauntered in, hands in his pockets as he took in Y/N’s modest home on the other side of town. He found you bent over your textbook, headphones on your head as you mouthed the words to “Girl’s Got Rhythm”.

“Honey,” Karen called feebly. She said it a few more times before waltzing over and pulling the headphones off your head just as the guitar solo was about to kick off.

“Hey! What the hell-- Billy?” You felt frozen in your spot as Billy smirked at you from the living room doorway.

“Your friend came over to see you.” Your mom did a shit job at hiding the shock in her voice, but whether it was from the notion of you even having friends or having friends who looked like Billy, you weren’t sure. “I’m just going to go up and resume my bath.”

You grimaced at the way she said bath and batted her eyelashes at Billy, who barely spared her a second glance as she sauntered away.

“What are you doing here?” you finally asked once you stood to your feet. “Better yet, how do you know where I live?”

“I have connections,” he replied with a one-shouldered shrug. “Let’s go for a drive.”

“I-I can’t. I have homework.” You gestured behind you at the books laid out on the table.

“Work on it later. Lords know you’re passing every class.” He rolled his eyes. “Including History now, thanks to me.”

“Whatever,” you grumbled as you shoved your feet into your shoes. If there was one thing you knew about Billy Hargrove, it was that he was aggravatingly tenacious. He was relentless in his tutoring, making sure you had one set of dates down before quizzing you on the next set. It was frustrating, but you were glad you were finally grasping the concept.

Billy led you out the front door and down the walkway to his blue Camaro, stopping by the passenger door to open it for you. You angled into the seat, the leather cool under your jeans, and he ran around to the driver’s side. The engine roared as he turned it over and then he floored it down the street. Your hands were balled into fists inside your hoodie pocket as he drove, heading to the outskirts of town.

It remained silent in the car as he drove and for a while, you wondered if you were about the be the victim of a classic horror movie. Until Billy stopped at the top of the quarry, overlooking the lake and got out of the car. He leaned against the hood and ducked his head to light a cigarette before reaching back to slap the hood and waving you out.

Slowly you unbuckled yourself and got out, coming to stand beside him at the front of the car. Your nose crinkled at the smell of his cigarette, but he was at least generous enough to blow the smoke away from you. The moon reflected off the lake hundreds of feet below you, rippling as the breeze disturbed the water.

Billy was shockingly silent beside you, puffing on his cigarette and leering out into the night. You spoke up when you’d finally had enough of the silence.

“Why did you sit with me at lunch today? Isn’t that social suicide or something?”

Billy blew the smoke out through his nose in an aggravated huff, his eyes becoming hard. The rest of his cigarette was crunched under his boot as he turned to face you.

“Why do you do that?” he asked. At your confused expression he elaborated. “Put yourself down like that. Why do you do that?”

Your mouth dropped open but you had no answer for him. Not a verbal one anyway, so you shrugged.

“You know, for a smart girl, you’re really dumb,” he fired off next. Your shoulders squared themselves, ready to fight back. “You let people treat you like you’re nothing, like you’re invisible, and I don’t get it.”

“I...Where is this coming from? You don’t even know me!”

“I know you’re itching to get out of Hawkins, to find somewhere you’re not being compared to Nancy. Yeah, I know all about that. I hear people talk and I saw the way you reacted in the library when I called you the other Wheeler. You’re not subtle. I’m not some big dumb brute of a guy who can’t see when someone undeserving is suffering. I see a lot more than you think.”

Your mouth snapped shut as your throat tightened, and you had to look away. The look in his eye was too much as you came to the realization that you weren’t invisible, not to Billy anyway, and it hit you like a freight train.

“You don’t understand,” you heard yourself whispering. You closed your eyes against the onslaught of emotions rising within you. “My whole life, I’ve been invisible, never anyone’s first choice. Middle child syndrome, you know? My father always asked, ‘why can’t you get grades like Nancy?’ Why can’t you excel like Nancy?’ My first A- was trumped by her fucking A+ and I didn’t stop hearing about it for a week. Any boy I ever liked just used me to get closer to Nancy. It’s always Nancy. Nancy, Nancy, fucking Nancy. Why can’t it ever be me?”

The last line was said in such a broken tone that Billy was compelled to step forward. Then you were surrounded in his warmth, and it broke you. You cried into his shirt, finally feeling some relief that you could let it all go.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Billy murmured into your hair, pressing a gentle kiss there after. “I see you, Y/N.”

At those words, you choked on a sob and wound your arms around his waist, holding him tightly to you, and he mirrored the embrace. You stood like that for a while until you were out of tears and his shirt was thoroughly soaked through. Sniffling, you leaned back a bit out of his embrace and he loosened his hold on you just enough to look down at you.

“Sorry,” you muttered, nodding at his shirt. “I ruined your shirt.”

“Fuck the shirt,” he retorted with a smirk that made your mouth quirk up at the ends. “There’s that smile. You don’t have to live in anyone’s shadow, Y/N, least of all Nancy’s. You have a light all your own; let it shine.”

The next week at school was the best week of your life. After Billy had knocked some sense into you, he was never far from your side. Usually he had an arm slung around your shoulders, or your hand grasped in his, leaving the rest of the student body to gawk and wonder what he saw in you. Your confidence was slowly, but surely, rising, though you still had your off days. On those days, Billy was right there with you, murmuring his faith in you that you would overcome it, that you were brilliant, and smart, and beautiful, and that no one could touch you.

Billy Hargrove had unexpectedly saved your life.