#Garlic press for kitchen

[ahmadsayrafi14]

Order it now from Amazon 🎁 and make garlic prep effortless with the Zulay Kitchen Large Premium Garlic Press Set the perfect tool for every kitchen

Order it now from Amazon 🎁 and make garlic prep effortless with the Zulay Kitchen Large Premium Garlic Press Set the perfect tool for every kitchen

SIMPLE TO USE & BUILT TO LAST: Our premium quality garlic chopper is constructed from food-grade, rust-resistant materials meant to be among your favorite kitchen gadgets for years to come. This garlic and ginger mincer is designed with built-in studs to extract more paste within seconds. It is great for both professional and home kitchens.

Order it now from Amazon 🎁

[magicalshopping]

♡ Garligator Garlic Press ♡

[danmeichael]

having a very sensual experience pitting these cherries.

[garlic-press-collection]

Neat little all plastic garlic press with separate screen cleaning tool.

[bestsellersfromamazon]

10 Must-Have Kitchen Gadgets to Simplify Your Cooking Routine

Cooking at home can be incredibly rewarding, but let’s be honest, it can also feel like a bit of a chore without the right tools. Whether you’re a seasoned chef or just starting out in the kitchen, having the right gadgets can make all the difference. Here are ten must-have kitchen gadgets that have transformed my cooking routine and can do the same for you. 1. Instant Pot I was skeptical about…

[brainintel]

https://share.temu.com/OgFLEDUub2A

[1-ker0sene-1]

Poly 141 x Reader

Home is where you are

"What ye think she made this time?"

Johnny mumbles, dropping his head back against the seat behind him. Blinking tiredly up at the ceiling of the truck, a daydream clear in his eyes. Simon next to him stares out the window, sweat seems to practically seal his balaclava to his face.

"We'd be lucky if anything. It's three in the fucking morning.."

Kyle says from the passenger seat. Pursing his lips a bit.

"She should be sleeping.."

Price chuckles from the driver's seat, hand on the steering wheel, paying close attention to the road.

"She knows we're on our way home. If she made something. We'll be thankful."

His other hand is resting on Kyle's knee, his thumb rubs slow circles against him.

Simons foot taps on the floor of the car silently, brows tight together. The man just wants to go home, shower, eat whatever heaven you cooked and sink into that california king mattress. With all of you, all five of you together.

"Steaks."

He mutters.

"Hm?"

Johnny questions with a hum, Simon clarifies.

"On days we come home.. it's either steak or shepherds pie. She made shepherds pie last time so it's gonna be steak."

They all salivate at the damn thought.

"It's tha little things with ye huh Simon?"

Johnny smiles warmly, leaning on his shoulder.

It was another thirty minutes driving before they finally pulled into the secluded driveway. Their safehouse. Their home. Where you are. Filing out of the truck, bags over their shoulders. Covered in grime and dried blood, they didn't even let themselves clean up at base before going home to you. Walking forward, Simon slings an arm around Kyle's shoulder. Tucking the sargeant into his side as they walk to the house. Both Johns walking behind them, Price giving the younger a good slap on the back.

"Home, boys. Let's enjoy it while we can."

Price comes forward to unlock the front door, pushing it open for the four of them. Mumbling out a reminder to take off their shoes inside. Leaning down with a grunt to pull off his boots. The others doing the same. They can already smell what you're cooking, Simon was right. The smell of steaks is pretty clear, garlic butter, some kind of steamed vegetables and spices.

The house is clean. Warm. Low lighting, some candles lit. Everything about it screams home. John opens his mouth to call out for you, but he can feel his spine practically melt hearing you hum in the kitchen.

Johnny is the first stumbling forward, hopping on one leg as he throws off his remaining shoe. Eager to get back to you. Grinning as he comes around the corner into the kitchen. He melts. Seeing you there, in your chair dishing up their plates of dinner.

".. Hey lass.."

He mumbles, feeling like all the air left his chest.

You turn your head when you hear him, the brightest smile spreads across your face. Tossing the fork down from your hand as you turn towards him.

"Hey soldier-"

You beam. You don't even get another word in before Johnny rushes towards you, you let out a puff of air as he crashes into you. Laughing against him as he squeezes you to his chest, his face buried in your hair.

"Fuckin' missed ye hen.."

He whispers. You return with one of your own.

"I know baby.. I missed you too.."

You lift your head, kissing the scar on his chin.

"This bloke botherin' you love?"

You already know that voice immediately, smiling as you turn to look at Kyle. Who is quick at your side with Johnny, his hand cups the back of your head. Pressing a long kiss to your cheek. Taking a deep inhale of your scent through his nose. You smile warmly, your hand finds his bicep, giving a soft squeeze.

"There you are Kyle.."

You murmur, turning your head to press your own kisses across the bridge of his nose.

"Always here."

He chirps, kissing on your skin. His eyes bore into you, drinking you up. Johnny huffs, mumbling something about stealing all your attention. Earning a small tug on his mowhawk from you.

"Alright you two- showers. The both of you. You need it-"

You chuckle, giving them both a hug. Giving Johnny one more kiss on the jaw. Letting Gaz get one more kiss on your face. Watching them head past you down the hall to the bathroom. Kissing on eachother, bumping into walls. You shake your head at them with a smile.

Eyes flicking back to the entrance. You find Simon staring at you, his shoulders slack and sinking. Eyes half lidded and tired. The rest of his face under the balaclava. Your eyes soften, holding out your hand to him.

"Oh Si.."

He takes the invitation. Coming over to you. He would tower over you in height. But instead he falls to one knee in front of your chair. Hands resting on the arm rests of your chair. Your hands immediately cradle his head. Leaning forward to press your head to his.

"You're home.. it's alright now .. no more Lieutenant.."

You whisper against him. Your fingertips lift the edge of the balaclava, pulling it over the nape of his neck. Over the back of his head, nails dragging soothingly up his scalp as you take the fabric away. Making him shiver in vulnerability. Putting his mask aside on the counter.

Seeing your Simons face eases the both of you, cupping his jaw and lifting his head.

"I know doll.. I know."

He mutters, you kiss his temple. Caressing his skin. Threading your fingers into his hair.

"Go shower with the boys sweetheart.. I'll be in there soon."

You coo at him. He chuckles deeply, kissing your head between your brows as he gets up. Bumping your foreheads together one more time before walking to the bathroom.

"You're not gonna say hello to me John?"

You joke, turning your head to watch said Captain. Who was holding his hat in hand, leaning against the wall watching you. He's been watching you the whole time.

"Just seein' you with our boys darlin'.."

Pushing away from the wall he walks over to you. His eyes full of exhaustion, longing, warmth. Tossing his hat on the counter behind you. He leans down, callous hands hold your cheeks. Bringing your lips to his.

He's not as sneaky as he thinks. You know of his little demand to the boys. He's the first to kiss you. Each time they come home.

You kiss him back feverishly, as much as you've been calm and steady for them. You missed your men like hell. Your hands find his shoulders, squeezing them tightly, beginning to work on the knots of tension in them. Emitting a deep groan from John into your mouth. You smile against his lips, feeling the scratch off his beard.

"Everyone's alright?"

You whisper against him. He nods, his hands finding your hips. Slightly lifting you from your chair and towards himself.

"No one's broken. .. Kyle's a little stressed. Y'know how he is.."

You nod, eyes still closed, continuing to brush your lips together.

"And you?"

"Just tired.. But I'm home. That's what matters."

John mumbles, kissing you deep again. Dipping his tongue past your lips, a soft sigh slipping out of you. Arms pulling him closer.

"Taking good care of our boys John.. You always do.. Making sure you all come home to me again... Our strong Captain.."

You can feel him sinking at your praise. The older mans knees want to buckle at your voice.

"Let's get you in the shower baby.. Hm? Get you washed and relaxed.."

You mumble against him.

You yelp as your lifted into the air by his arms, laughing openly as he carries you like a bride. Burying his nose to the crook of your neck. Carrying you down the hall, to the bathroom door. Where you can already hear the chatter of the men in the shower waiting for the two of you. John is grumbling against your skin.

"We need you darlin'. "

"Our boys and I need you bad.."

[siddyyyyyyyy]

Chef!Simon 'Ghost' Riley who works as the head chef in a three star restaurant. Is very passionate about his cooking and baking, although he prefers cooking. Let's the confectioner handle the sweets.

Chef!Simon 'Ghost' Riley who hates costumers or guests, who think they can outsmart him, by complaining about the 'dry steak', however he simply makes them go home. This way, him and his colleagues have less stress.

Chef!Simon 'Ghost' Riley who gets criticized because of his strict rules in his restaurant by the press. However, he just wants to make sure it's enjoyable and calm. Without any guests trying to get more free food by playing a victim.

Chef!Simon 'Ghost' Riley who hates the press.

Chef!Simon 'Ghost' Riley who hates taking the fresh products from the delivery guy, because he's more than talkative. Always makes anyone else go than himself.

Chef!Simon 'Ghost' Riley who (sometimes) hates his colleagues. Mostly Soap, because he manages to set at least two pans on fire every day and then always ends up staying late to help the cleaning ladies with their job.

Chef!Simon 'Ghost' Riley who once threw a tomato at Soap for pissing him off, then said; »Be happy that wasn't my knife, you wanker!«

Chef!Simon 'Ghost' Riley who sometimes gets carried away and talks more loudly than usual, making some guests question if the work morals are actually okay or not.

»Just follow the damn orders, you carrot!« »If the costumer said 'no garlic', then it means 'no garlic'! I don't need this place to be shut down because of your stupid ass.«

Chef!Simon 'Ghost' Riley who either loves it or hates it when familys with children come in. Asks the waiter or waitress who took their orders about them, being happy if the kid is well behaved.

Chef!Simon 'Ghost' Riley who loves to cook things off the kid's menu, likes to serve it himself when he knows the child/children are nice and not little gremlins.

Chef!Simon 'Ghost' Riley who rants to himself whenever something upsets him in the slightest way.

Chef!Simon 'Ghost' Riley who likes to think that you are his favourite coworker. Knows about your excellent degree, enjoys your food and new recipes and loves the fact that you're always on time. Others can't compare.

Chef!Simon 'Ghost' Riley who likes to gossip with you on breaks over a cigeratte or a cup of tea.

Chef!Simon 'Ghost' Riley who always makes sure that Velvet's desserts are perfect. It's his most loyal costumer, and the sweetest elder lady on earth.

»Of course, we'll make the most sweetest cheesecake as possible.«

Chef!Simon 'Ghost' Riley who wants to put his hands into the mixer after he heard Velvet compliment you, then following up with, »I'm surprised chef Riley hasn't fallen for you already. I'd be distracted in the kitchen if I had to work with you.« Because she is somehow managed to hit a nerve.

Chef!Simon 'Ghost' Riley who tries to make you do other work, like organising the storage room and collecting the deliveries, or even cleaning out the containers outside. Just to be more focused on his work... but you're starting to hate it.

Chef!Simon 'Ghost' Riley who makes Soap shut up with another tomato once he tries to tease Ghost about his 'crush'. Then contemplated with the thoughts of shutting the place down because of his antics.

a/n: got this idea while reawatching a random series from my childhood, so here you go. hope you enjoyed! (divider @vesearartistry) I'd happily take more requests for this AU, just drop it into my inbox!! Also, he reminds me of Gordon Ramsay.

←MASTERLIST

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[dreamauri]

♪ — 𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗧 𝗢𝗙 𝗠𝗘 max verstappen x girlfriend! reader ( fluff ) fic summary . . . max may not be an emotional guy, but he expresses his love and emotions in other ways, e.g.: sticking himself to you. ( 2.7k words )

( main master list | more of max verstappen ) ( requests )

The room was dark and quiet, the soft hum of the heater filling the air. You tiptoed into the bedroom, careful not to make too much noise, though you knew Max was already in bed. His tousled hair peeked out from under the blanket, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. He wasn’t asleep, though—not really.

As you slipped under the covers, the bed shifted slightly, and Max immediately stirred. His arm reached out, and before you could even settle, he was tugging the blanket over you, ensuring it covered your shoulders and tucked around your body snugly.

“Too cold,” he mumbled, his voice low and raspy with sleep. He pulled you closer until your back was pressed against his chest. “Need you warm.”

You laughed softly, trying to shift to a more comfortable position, but Max groaned in protest. “No,” he whined, burying his face into your hair. “Don’t move. Just stay like this.”

“Max, I can’t breathe,” you teased, wiggling a little to free your arms.

“Don’t care,” he mumbled stubbornly, tightening his hold. His lips pressed to the back of your head, a soft kiss followed by a sigh of contentment. “Stay still, or I’ll die.”

“You’re so dramatic,” you muttered, but you stopped moving. Max hummed in victory, his arms like a vice around you as he finally relaxed.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The kitchen smelled of garlic and fresh herbs, the comforting aroma wafting through the house as you stirred a pot on the stove. Max hovered nearby, his brow furrowed in concentration as he meticulously chopped vegetables.

“Do you want these smaller?” he asked, holding up a perfectly diced carrot.

“They’re fine, Max. Really,” you assured him, smiling at his effort.

He nodded, setting the knife down to wipe the counter with a damp cloth. “What’s next? What else can I do?”

“Max, you’ve already—”

“I’ll stir the pot,” he interrupted, grabbing a wooden spoon before you could protest. He moved beside you, carefully mixing the bubbling sauce as if it were a high-stakes race strategy.

“Max, I can handle it—”

“No,” he said firmly, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “You’re doing all the hard work. Let me do something.”

You shook your head, exasperated but endeared. When dinner was finished, Max ignored your protests and rolled up his sleeves to wash the dishes.

“You cooked; I’ll clean. That’s fair,” he said, turning on the faucet.

“Max, let me help—”

“Sit,” he insisted, his voice leaving no room for argument.

As you watched him hum softly while scrubbing plates, you couldn’t help but smile. He might not have been a chef, but he always found a way to show he cared.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The crisp winter air bit at your cheeks as you walked hand in hand with Max through the quiet park. The sun was setting, casting a golden glow over the frost-covered grass, but the chill was undeniable.

You shivered involuntarily, pulling your coat tighter around you. Max noticed immediately, his eyes darting to your face. Without a word, he pulled off his ice cap and gently tugged it over your head.

“Max, you’ll get cold,” you protested, reaching to take it off.

“Don’t,” he said softly, his hand catching yours. He adjusted the cap so it sat snugly over your ears. “I’ll be fine. You need it more.”

He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer as you continued walking. His hand rubbed small circles on your shoulder, his warmth seeping into you despite the cold.

“You’re like my personal heater,” you teased, leaning into him.

Max smiled, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Always,” he murmured.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The late afternoon sun bathed the patio in a golden glow, and you were perfectly content, stretched out in a chair with a book in hand. The quiet rustle of pages and the soft chirping of birds were the only sounds until Max plopped down beside you.

“Whatcha reading?” he asked, leaning into your side.

“Something you’d probably find boring,” you replied, not looking up.

Max pouted, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Pay attention to me,” he said, his voice playful but laced with a hint of genuine need.

“I’m reading, Max.”

He groaned dramatically, reaching out to tug the book from your hands. “You’ve been reading for hours,” he whined.

“Max, it’s been twenty minutes!” you laughed, but he wasn’t deterred.

He kissed your hand, then your cheek, then the corner of your lips, each peck more insistent than the last. “Hi,” he murmured against your skin.

“Hi, Max,” you replied, finally looking at him.

He grinned, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Much better.” He nestled his head into the crook of your neck, his arms wrapping around your waist like a clingy cat seeking warmth and affection.

As you gave in and let your hand rest on his hair, Max sighed contentedly. “This is nice,” he mumbled, his voice muffled.

“You’re impossible,” you teased, but you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face.

And Max? He just grinned, completely at peace as long as he had you.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Max leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, his lips in a determined pout. “Come to Vegas with me,” he said, his voice tinged with a pleading tone.

You sighed, glancing up from your laptop where you were trying to finish some last-minute work. “Max, we’ve been through this. I can’t. I’ve used all my vacation days already, remember? For you, I might add, when you were feeling under the weather and turned into a human koala.”

“That was different,” Max retorted, straightening up. “I needed you then.”

“And now I need to keep my job,” you replied with a chuckle, shaking your head.

Max groaned dramatically, flopping onto the couch as if you’d just told him the worst news in the world. “Quit,” he said bluntly, throwing his arms over his head.

Your fingers froze over the keyboard, and you turned to him with wide eyes. “Excuse me?”

“Quit,” he repeated, sitting up and leaning forward. His blue eyes sparkled with mischief, but the serious edge in his tone gave him away. “Be my princess.”

You blinked at him, stunned. “I’m sorry—what?”

Max stood up and walked over to you, crouching beside your chair. “I’ll take care of you,” he said earnestly, resting his chin on your knee. “You won’t have to work. You can just come to all my races and look pretty. I’ll even buy you a real tiara if you want.”

You burst into laughter, the absurdity of his suggestion catching you completely off guard. “Max, what are you even saying right now?”

“I’m serious,” he whined, grabbing your hands and holding them tightly. “You’d look cute in a tiara.”

Your laughter only grew, tears forming in the corners of your eyes as you tried to catch your breath. “Max, I can’t believe you. Do you even hear yourself?”

He pouted, clearly unimpressed with your reaction. “I mean it,” he mumbled, nuzzling your hands as if that would help convince you.

“You’re impossible,” you said, still giggling, leaning down to kiss his head.

Max grinned despite himself, his arms wrapping around your waist. “So, Vegas?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop smiling. “Not a chance.”

“I’ll keep trying,” he warned, a sly grin spreading across his face.

And knowing Max, you didn’t doubt it for a second.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You sighed, leaning against the car parked outside the club, checking the time on your phone for the third time. The muffled bass thumped through the walls, and you wondered if Max had even seen the string of texts you’d sent him.

Finally, the doors burst open, and there he was—disheveled, grinning like a kid who’d just raided a candy store, and holding a drink that you were pretty sure wasn’t allowed outside.

“Max!” you called, marching over to him.

His face lit up like a Christmas tree when he saw you. “THERE SHE IS!” he shouted, pointing at you so enthusiastically that you winced at the sudden attention. “THAT’S MY WIFE!”

Your jaw dropped. “Max, for God’s sake—stop yelling!”

He didn’t stop. Of course, he didn’t stop. He was already pulling you into a clumsy hug, grinning at everyone who would listen. “She’s the love of my life, everyone! My wife!”

“Max, we’re not married,” you hissed, trying to tug him toward the car, but he dug his heels into the pavement.

He turned to you, his blue eyes glassy but entirely earnest. “Don’t care,” he slurred. “I wanna be your husband, so I am. That’s how it works.”

“That is absolutely not how it works,” you snapped, heat rising to your cheeks as a small crowd began to form, amused by the scene.

Max, apparently unbothered, dropped to one knee—right there on the sidewalk. You froze in horror as gasps and cheers erupted around you.

“Max, no—get up!” you whisper-shouted, glancing around frantically.

He held your hand dramatically, swaying slightly. “We’re already married, babe. I just…never got you a ring, but we’re good, yeah?”

You stared at him, wide-eyed, as laughter rippled through the onlookers. “Max, this isn’t how marriage works—oh my God, get up!”

He didn’t move, grinning up at you like he’d just won the lottery. “You’re my wife,” he declared again, loud and proud, before finally letting you haul him to his feet and toward the car.

The next morning, you were at the kitchen table, scrolling through Twitter, your stomach sinking with every new video and tweet about the incident. It was everywhere. Clips of Max proclaiming his undying love, people tagging you as “Mrs. Verstappen,” and a slew of memes.

Max, freshly showered and looking far too chipper for someone who’d been out all night, wandered into the kitchen and immediately attached himself to your side.

“Morning, wife,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your cheek, his arms wrapping around you from behind.

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “Max, please. This is a PR nightmare.”

He chuckled, entirely unfazed. “You’re my wife, though.”

You turned to glare at him. “No, I’m not. And you can’t just decide that after a night out!”

“Why not?” he asked, tilting his head, his expression far too smug for your liking. “You love me, I love you. Boom—married.”

You sighed, shaking your head. “Max, that’s not how any of this works.”

He just grinned, leaning down to nuzzle into your neck. “Doesn’t matter. You’re stuck with me, wife.”

“Stop calling me that!” you said, pushing his face away as he laughed.

But no matter how much you protested, Max stuck to his story—and to your side—all day. And maybe, just maybe, you didn’t mind it as much as you pretended to.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The living room was alive with the soft rustle of toys and the occasional chirping meow from Jimmy and Sassy. You were sprawled on the rug, teasing them with a feather wand as they pounced and tumbled, their sleek Bengal coats gleaming in the light.

Max sat on the couch, arms crossed, watching the scene with narrowed eyes. “You’ve been playing with them for an hour,” he muttered, his tone bordering on sulky.

“They’re adorable,” you replied without looking up, giggling as Jimmy made an impressive leap to catch the feather.

Max huffed, leaning forward. “I’m adorable too.”

You glanced back at him, raising a brow. “Are you…jealous of the cats?”

“No,” he replied quickly, though his pout betrayed him. “But they get all your attention.”

You shook your head, returning to the game. “They’re cats, Max. They need playtime.”

“I need playtime,” he shot back, now sliding off the couch to sit next to you. Jimmy immediately darted away, eyeing Max warily, while Sassy remained, tail flicking as she watched the feather intently.

Max grabbed the toy and waved it halfheartedly, but Sassy ignored him, her gaze fixed on you. “See? Even the cats don’t like me,” he complained.

“That’s not true,” you said, laughing as you stroked Sassy’s head. “They like you.”

Max pointed at Jimmy, who was now perched on the coffee table, glaring. “He’s plotting against me.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, please.”

Max leaned closer, nudging Sassy out of your lap. “I’m better than them,” he declared firmly.

“They’re cats,” you reminded him, trying not to laugh.

“Exactly,” he said, sitting up straighter. “I’m a better cat.”

Before you could respond, Max let out the most monotone, deadpan “meow” you’d ever heard. It was so blunt, so unbelievably bad, that you couldn’t hold it in—you burst into laughter, clutching your stomach as tears pricked your eyes.

Jimmy and Sassy, startled by your sudden outburst, darted off to another room. Max grinned triumphantly. “See? I win.”

You wiped your eyes, still laughing. “Max, you’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously lovable,” he corrected, scooting closer to wrap his arms around you. “Admit it—I’m your favorite cat.”

You sighed, leaning into him as his lips pressed against your temple. “Fine, you’re my favorite cat.”

“Thought so,” he murmured smugly, nuzzling into your neck.

From the doorway, Jimmy and Sassy peeked in, tails swishing, clearly plotting their comeback. But for now, Max basked in the victory, the happiest “cat” in your life.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The wedding reception was in full swing, the air buzzing with joy and celebration. You stood off to the side with a flute of champagne in your hand, watching the dance floor as the bride prepared to toss her bouquet. The DJ hyped up the moment, calling for all the single women to gather.

You noticed Max standing nearby, his arms crossed but his blue eyes sparkling with curiosity as he watched the group forming near the bride.

“Why don’t they let anyone else try?” he muttered, mostly to himself, before straightening his shoulders.

“Max,” you laughed, catching the determined look on his face. “You’re not—”

But before you could finish, Max had already marched toward the group of women. The moment he joined them, heads turned, some of the women giggling at the sight of him standing tall among them.

“What is he doing?” you muttered under your breath, feeling both amused and mortified.

The bride, catching sight of Max in the lineup, burst into laughter but gamely tossed the bouquet into the air. The flowers arced through the air, and with the reflexes of a world champion driver, Max leapt up, snatching the bouquet mid-flight.

The crowd erupted into cheers and laughter, everyone clapping at Max’s unexpected victory.

You watched in disbelief as he stood there, bouquet in hand, a euphoric grin spreading across his face. He looked like a proud puppy that had just retrieved a stick for his owner.

Then, as if remembering why he’d done it, Max turned and locked eyes with you. His grin widened, and he strode toward you with the confidence of someone who had just won a championship.

“Look!” he exclaimed, holding the bouquet up like a trophy. “I got it!”

You couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of you, shaking your head as Max reached you. “Max, it’s supposed to be for the women.”

He shrugged, still beaming. “Doesn’t matter. I caught it for you.”

“For me?” you echoed, raising an eyebrow.

“Obviously,” he said, slipping his arm around your waist and presenting the bouquet with dramatic flair. “This means we’re next, right? Isn’t that how it works?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, trying to fight the warmth spreading in your chest. “That’s not how it works.”

Max leaned closer, lowering his voice with a teasing grin. “Then it’s a good thing I don’t care about the rules.”

Before you could respond, he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, his happiness contagious as he held the bouquet out to you again. “Go on, take it. It’s yours.”

Shaking your head but smiling all the same, you accepted the bouquet. Max’s grin grew impossibly wider as he wrapped both arms around you, holding you close in front of the amused crowd.

“Best decision I’ve ever made,” he said, resting his forehead against yours.

You laughed, placing a hand on his cheek. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love me for it,” he replied confidently, stealing another kiss.

[gpcwsl]

Could you do a Leah Williamson one where reader is a chef and has restaurant establishments worldwide and just located one in England a couple months ago and the England girls are a having a camp in London and since everyone is all together for camp they want to celebrate with a fancy dinner and they start discussing restaurants and readers restaurant is put out there, but some of the girls disagree because they tried to eat there but it was always booked up, so when Leah gets home she talks to reader and gets them a table, so Leah texts the team gc and say dress fancy tomorrow night and the location of the restaurant and the gc starts blowing, but she ignores it, and when they all go to the restaurant and ask questions and Leah’s like she has connections, but come to find out that Leah is dating reader then reader sits down beside Leah and the team gets to know her a little and when they go to pay reader says it’s already taken care of.

Warnings: a kiss?

Leah Williamson x Chef!Reader

- Dress fancy -

MasterList

Leah Williamson kicked her boots off at the door, the satisfying thud against the floor signaling the end of another long day. Training had been intense, but it wasn’t the drills or tactics replaying in her mind—it was the chaotic group chat blowing up her phone during the drive home.

She pulled her phone from her pocket and glanced at the screen, scrolling through dozens of messages.

Tooney: “We should go to that new restaurant tomorrow.”

Brightness: “What’s it called? The fancy one that’s always booked?”

Backheel: “You mean Palace Place? Impossible. I’ve been trying to get a table since it opened.”

Brightness: “Same. That place is like gold dust.”

Tooney: “We need something special, though. We’re all together. Ideas?”

Leah smirked, leaning against the kitchen counter as she typed her response:

Captain: “Sorted. 7 PM tomorrow. Dress fancy.”

The chat exploded.

Tooney: “LEAH.”

Backheel: “How?!”

Brightness: “You didn’t even say where!”

Walshy: “She probably means Nando’s.”

Tooney: “I swear, if this is a joke…”

Leah tossed her phone on the counter, ignoring the continued barrage of messages, and walked into the living room. The soft hum of classical music filtered through the space, and the faint aroma of roasted garlic and herbs greeted her.

“Smells amazing,” she called, rounding the corner into the kitchen.

You stood by the stove, dressed casually in an apron, hair tied back, moving with the kind of effortless grace Leah never tired of watching. You glanced over your shoulder, a smile already forming.

“Hey, you. Dinner’s almost ready.”

Leah walked up behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist and resting her chin on your shoulder. “I don’t know how you do it. Training kills me, and you’re here cooking like it’s nothing.”

“Years of practice,” you teased, leaning back into her embrace. “How was camp?”

Leah hesitated, her lips brushing lightly against your temple. “Good. The girls want to go out tomorrow night. Celebrate being all together.”

You turned in her arms, raising an eyebrow. “And let me guess, they want to go somewhere fancy?”

She grinned. “They were debating places, and your restaurant came up.”

“Did it now?” you asked, amusement coloring your tone. “And what did you say?”

“I didn’t.” Leah shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Didn’t want to out myself as having an in with the chef-owner who happens to be my girlfriend.”

You laughed softly, running a hand down her arm. “So you’re here to use your connections?”

“Obviously,” Leah said, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. “Any chance you can fit us in tomorrow?”

You rolled your eyes but smiled. “For you? Always. How many?”

“About 20.”

You blinked. “20?”

Leah winced. “Yeah… full squad.”

“Good thing I like you,” you teased, reaching for your phone to call the restaurant.

Leah sent the address to the group chat in the morning, and as expected, chaos ensued.

Tooney: “No way. THE Palace place?!”

Backheel: “Leah, I’m actually screaming.”

Daily mail: “I tried booking for my mum’s birthday and couldn’t. HOW?”

Brightness: “She must know someone.”

Tooney: “Leah Williamson: captain, legend, and apparently a magician.”

Leah ignored it all, casually walking into the training facility as if her phone wasn’t buzzing nonstop in her pocket.

The team arrived promptly at 7 PM, dressed to impress. The restaurant was stunning, its interior sleek yet inviting, with warm lighting that made everything glow. They were escorted to a private dining room where a long table awaited, set with pristine white linens, sparkling glassware, and fresh flowers.

“This is insane,” Ella muttered, taking in the surroundings.

“How did you pull this off?” Millie asked Leah, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

Leah smirked, leaning back in her chair. “I told you. Connections.”

The team was halfway through the meal—an exquisite multi-course experience—when the door to the dining room opened. You walked in, your chef’s jacket pristine, a warm smile on your face.

“Good evening, ladies,” you greeted.

The table fell silent, all eyes turning to you. Leah tried to suppress a grin as you approached.

“Everything to your liking so far?” you asked, your gaze briefly meeting Leah’s.

“The food’s incredible,” Keira said. “Are you the chef?”

You nodded. “And the owner.”

Murmurs of amazement rippled through the group.

Leah cleared her throat, sitting up straighter. “Everyone, this is Y/n.”

“Wait…” Rachel’s eyes darted between you and Leah. “This is your connection?”

Leah shrugged, feigning innocence. “What can I say? I know people.”

“Hold on.” Ella leaned forward, pointing at Leah. “You’re dating the chef?!”

Leah’s smirk widened. “Didn’t think it was relevant.”

The table erupted in laughter, teasing, and a flurry of questions directed at you.

When the bill arrived, one of the players reached for it, but the waiter quickly informed them it had already been settled.

“It’s on me,” you said with a smile, standing beside Leah. “You’re all family to Leah, which makes you family to me.”

The team groaned, joking about being spoiled, but their gratitude was evident.

As everyone filtered out of the restaurant, Leah lingered by the door with you, her hand slipping into yours.

“Thanks for tonight,” she said softly, her voice full of warmth.

You leaned up, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. “Anything for you.”

The team’s laughter echoed down the street, and Leah pulled you closer, her heart full as she watched her two worlds collide perfectly.

[xo100]

Stirring up love - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary: Lando Norris discovers the joy of cooking and quiet moments with you, cherishing the love and connection that grows through your shared, intimate experiences in the kitchen.

*:･ﾟ Word count: 1586

୨ৎ

Lando had never been the type to spend much time in the kitchen. The idea of cooking had always seemed like such a hassle, something to be avoided by a simple click on his phone. With his busy schedule as an F1 driver and the constant whirlwind of travel, press, and races, takeout had always been the go-to. But then, you came into his life, and suddenly, everything changed.

He wasn’t sure when exactly it had started, but somewhere in the first few months of dating, he found himself gravitating toward the kitchen more and more. It wasn’t because he’d suddenly discovered a passion for cooking—though he did find himself enjoying it now—it was because of you. Watching you cook had become one of his favorite things, an act so simple yet so intimate that he couldn’t get enough of it.

-

It was a Tuesday evening, and the warm, golden light from the setting sun was flooding through the windows of your shared apartment. You were at the kitchen counter, chopping vegetables with an effortless grace that Lando admired. He sat at the kitchen island, chin resting on his hand, eyes following your every movement. There was something calming about the way you moved in the kitchen—confident, sure, like you belonged there.

“You're staring,” you teased, not even looking up from your chopping.

Lando grinned, the kind of boyish smile that always made your heart skip a beat. “Can’t help it,” he replied, his voice soft and warm. “You’re mesmerizing.”

You glanced at him, playfully rolling your eyes, but the smile tugging at the corner of your lips gave you away. “I’m just chopping vegetables, Lando.”

“Yeah, but you make it look like art,” he said, slipping off his stool to come closer. His hands found your waist as he stood behind you, pulling you against him gently. His chin came to rest on your shoulder, and you felt his breath tickling the side of your neck.

“Are you trying to distract me?” you asked, even though the warmth of his embrace was something you welcomed.

“Maybe.” His voice was low, a soft murmur against your ear. “Is it working?”

You laughed, leaning back against him for just a moment before turning your attention back to the cutting board. “Not really. You’re going to have to try harder.”

Lando chuckled, his arms wrapping a little tighter around your waist as he pressed a soft kiss to your temple. “I could help you, you know,” he offered, even though both of you knew he wasn’t much of a cook.

You raised an eyebrow, glancing at him over your shoulder. “Oh yeah? You, Mr. Takeout, are going to help me cook dinner?”

“Hey,” he protested with mock indignation, “I’ve improved! I can, like, chop stuff now. And mix things.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the proud tone in his voice. “Alright, alright,” you said, stepping out of his embrace to hand him a second cutting board and a knife. “You can chop the garlic then.”

Lando took the knife with a playful salute, determined to prove himself useful. He positioned himself next to you, glancing at your precise movements before starting on his own task. His chopping was a little slower, a little less smooth, but the concentration on his face was endearing.

After a few minutes, he nudged you with his elbow, and when you looked up, he gave you a cheeky smile. “Look, I’m basically a pro now.”

You glanced at his pile of somewhat unevenly chopped garlic and smiled. “Not bad, Norris.”

“Not bad?” he echoed, pretending to be offended. “That’s not the level of praise I was expecting.”

You turned to face him, hands resting on your hips as you gave him an exaggerated once-over. “Okay, okay. You’re amazing. Master chef level, even.”

Lando grinned, looking satisfied with your compliment as he set the knife down. “That’s more like it,” he teased, before pulling you into his arms again. You didn’t protest this time, letting him hold you close as the smell of garlic and spices filled the air.

Moments like these were Lando’s favorite. Not the loud, fast-paced moments of race weekends or the excitement of podium finishes. No, this—these quiet, domestic moments, where it was just the two of you, where everything felt so simple and right—this was what he treasured. There was something about the way you fit so perfectly into his life that amazed him. You made even the most mundane things, like cooking dinner, feel special.

“You know,” he started, his fingers tracing lazy patterns along your back, “I never really liked cooking before you.”

You hummed softly, your hands resting on his chest as you looked up at him. “Is that so?”

“Yeah,” he admitted, his eyes soft and full of affection. “I used to just order food all the time. Even when I was with someone else, it was just easier to let someone else cook or grab takeout.”

Your curiosity piqued at the mention of his past relationships, but you knew Lando wasn’t one to dwell on the past. He had moved on, and so had you. Still, there was something about the way he spoke that made you want to know more. “So, what changed?”

Lando smiled, his thumb brushing along your cheek. “You did.”

His words were so simple, yet they carried so much weight. You felt a warmth spread through your chest, the kind that only Lando could make you feel. “Me?”

“Yeah,” he said softly, his gaze never leaving yours. “With you, I like being in the kitchen. I like cooking with you, being close to you, doing these little things together. It makes me feel… happy. Like I’ve got something good, you know?”

You could feel your heart swelling at his words. It wasn’t often that Lando was this open with his feelings, but when he was, it hit you like a wave. You smiled, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to his lips, the kind of kiss that was full of unspoken promises and shared love.

“I like cooking with you too, Norris,” you whispered against his lips, your fingers tangling in his hair as you deepened the kiss for just a moment before pulling back. “Even if you are just chopping garlic.”

He laughed softly, his forehead resting against yours. “Hey, it’s an important job. Someone’s gotta do it.”

“Sure, sure,” you teased, but there was no denying the affection in your voice. You loved these moments with him, the playful banter, the lazy touches, the way he made you feel like the most important person in the world.

The two of you stood there for a while, wrapped up in each other, content in the warmth of the kitchen and the quiet rhythm of your lives together. It was peaceful, the kind of peace that Lando hadn’t realized he’d been missing until you came along.

Eventually, though, the food on the stove demanded attention, and with a soft sigh, you reluctantly pulled away from him. “Okay, okay, back to work,” you said, though the smile on your face made it clear you weren’t complaining.

Lando pouted dramatically but didn’t argue. “Fine. But I get to taste test everything.”

“Deal,” you agreed with a laugh as you returned to the stove. You could feel Lando’s eyes on you again as you worked, but this time, you didn’t mind. There was something about the way he watched you, so full of admiration and affection, that made you feel like the most special person in the world.

As the meal came together, Lando continued to sneak up behind you, stealing quick kisses or wrapping his arms around your waist whenever he got the chance. It was like he couldn’t keep his hands off you, and honestly, you didn’t mind. There was something so comforting about the way he held you, like he couldn’t get enough of being close to you.

-

Eventually, the two of you sat down to eat, and as you shared a meal you had made together, Lando couldn’t help but think about how perfect it all felt. The food, the company, the quiet moments in between bites where you’d share a soft smile or a playful comment. This was what he loved—these little moments that made everything else in life feel worth it.

After dinner, the two of you curled up on the couch, your head resting on his chest as his fingers ran absentmindedly through your hair. The TV was on, but neither of you were really watching, too wrapped up in the quiet comfort of being together.

“Thank you,” Lando said softly after a while, his voice barely above a whisper.

“For what?” you asked, tilting your head up to look at him.

“For this,” he gestured vaguely, but you knew what he meant. “For making everything better. For making me want to do things I never thought I’d enjoy. For just… being you.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you pressed a soft kiss to his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your lips. “I love you, Lando,” you whispered, your voice full of sincerity.

“I love you too,” he replied, his arms tightening around you just a little bit more. And in that moment, with you in his arms and the quiet hum of the world around you, Lando knew that he had everything he needed.

Because with you, everything was perfect.

୨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, I hope y’all enjoyed! Also thank you so much for the support on my other stories!

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

hey!!

could i maybe get a roommate fic where carmy’s getting ridden and about to come and has no filter so it slips out that he loves her

Baby, Please.

it’s been on the tip of his tongue for too long. it was only a matter of time.

roommate!carmen berzatto x female reader

warnings - smut. cursing. carmy’s a bit pathetic at some points in this (you’re welcome)

word count - 2.4k

authors note - ah shit, here we go again. I always end writing carmy as a little bitch in these, sorry lmao (i’m not). but here it is!! a love confession!! will they ever talk about anything, I hear you ask? we’ll see…

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

series masterlist. masterlist. inbox.

Carmen automatically smiles when he hears your keys clinking against the lock in the front door.

As soon as he clocks it, he rolls his eyes at himself. You’re not supposed to get butterflies in your stomach when your roommate comes home on a random Thursday evening.

And yet here he is, sitting on the couch, trying to play it cool - as if he hasn’t been waiting for your return for the last hour and a half.

You’re usually back from work before he is, and suddenly he’s grateful for it. He couldn’t do this everyday. Sitting, waiting for you to come home as if you’ve been gone for months rather than nine or so hours. The apartment feels a little bigger, a little colder without you in it. Carmy wonders how he lived here for so long without you.

You swing the door open, kicking off your shoes instantly. Throwing your bag onto the counter, you take in the sight of your home. It’s clean, tidied, more organised than you’ve seen it in a while. Carmy’s been putting the work in while you’ve been gone.

“What happened, Carmen? Are you okay?”

“W-what?”

“Were you stress cleaning?”

He laughs, all full and warm.

“No, babe. Just regular cleaning.”

He rises from the couch, coming over to press a kiss into your cheek before slipping your jacket off your shoulders and hanging it up behind you.

“Carmen, what’s that smell?”

“Tomato and basil slow baked rigatoni. Homemade garlic bread. And then, if you have any room left… my homemade snickerdoodles.”

“Did you… cook for me?”

“Yes I did, baby. It’s the least I can do after you’ve been at work all day.”

It’s all so domestic, so thoughtful, so heartfelt, that you don’t know whether to laugh or cry. You step forward into his space, looping your arms around his neck and pressing a kiss to his lips. He grins at you when you pull away.

“What was that for?”

“A thank you,” you whisper, kissing him again. “I really won the roommate lottery, huh?”

“We both did,” he chuckles, covering your face in kisses while you squirm in his arms.

Eventually, he lets you go, but not before raking his eyes up and down your figure very slowly. He takes you in - your work clothes, the way your hair is falling out slightly, your bare feet. As much as you want to let him devour you, you’re starving. A different kind of hunger to his.

“Dinner first. That after.”

“What after?” he plays coy, trying to fight the smirk off his face.

“Don’t play dumb, Berzatto. It’s not a good look on you.”

With that, you leave the kitchen to get changed, laughing as you go.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You sink further into Carmy’s side on the couch, trying desperately to pay attention to the vintage sitcom that’s playing on the TV.

All you can focus on are the rough fingertips tracing patterns on the bare skin of your thigh. They keep getting higher, brushing the seam of your pyjama shorts occasionally. Every so often, Carmy leans in to press a kiss onto your temple, into your hair, behind your ear. You rest your head on his chest, soothed by the steady beat of his heart.

“That was the best meal I’ve had in a long time, you know.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I could eat that pasta every day for the rest of my life and die a happy woman.”

Carmy laughs, and the sound rumbles through both of you.

“I don’t cook for you often enough.”

You sit up, then, turning in your seat to look him in the eyes.

“Carmen. You cook for me almost every day.”

“Yeah, but… not really.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Most of the time when I’m cooking at home, I’m trying a new recipe, or perfecting an old one - for the restaurant. And then we both eat it for dinner. But tonight, I actually picked a recipe I knew you’d love, and made it for you. Because I don’t cook for you often enough.”

You lean in to press a gentle kiss to his lips, smiling as you do it.

“You know I don’t mind either way, right? Whatever you make is always delicious. Except for that weird duck mousse from last week. That was… awful.”

He shoves you playfully, laughing when you topple backwards onto the couch cushions. Climbing onto you, he digs his fingers into your ribs, chuckling as you try to squirm away from him.

“Stop, before I kick you in the stomach or something,” you plead, wrapping your legs around his waist to try and keep him still.

When that doesn’t work, you resort to dirtier tactics. You roll your hips up into his, watching as his face changes when he realises what you’re doing. The tickling stops, replaced by fingertips gripping your sides in a completely different way.

“Fuck,” he murmurs into your neck as he drops his head down. “You know exactly what you’re doing. Minx.”

“Well you wouldn’t stop, so…”

“You’re usually telling me not to stop, honey. ‘Oh, Carmen, don’t stop baby, don’t stop’…”

You laugh as he mocks you, half in disbelief, half in amusement.

“You’re such a dick.”

“You still want me though, huh?”

The atmosphere in the room shifts, tension thickening in the air. Carmy’s eyes go dark as he looks down at you, gaze raking across your face. You nod in response to his question, chewing at your bottom lip.

“You gonna let me thank you for dinner properly, Berzatto?

Who is he to say no to an offer like that?

You tighten your legs around his waist and pull his hips down to yours, flipping you both over on the couch. You settle with your thighs on either side of his, your weight keeping him anchored down to the cushions.

“You look so pretty underneath me,” you whisper, tracing the features of his face with your gentle fingertips. “Pretty, pretty boy.”

Carmy’s hips buck up into yours at the praise.

“You’re so fucking predictable,” you giggle as he groans. “You love this, don’t you?”

“Love what?”

His voice is all strained and breathy already, and you can’t help but laugh.

“Being my bitch.”

He chuckles and rolls his eyes, but his tightening grip on your waist gives him away. You lean in to press your forehead to his, breathing him in for a moment. Carmy tilts his head up to meet your lips, slipping his tongue into your mouth as you whine.

You tangle your fingers into his hair, melding your lips against his. You let him explore your mouth, winding your hips down into him in a steady motion. You lean back to pull his shirt over his head, yours following suit shortly afterwards and ending up in a pile on the floor.

Carmy kisses his way across your chest, nipping and sucking as he goes. You’re way past the don’t leave marks stage. Neither of you care anymore. You rake your nails down his stomach, smirking when he shudders, goosebumps rising across his skin.

You tip forward to bite at the muscle of Carmy’s neck, licking a stripe up his throat as you go. He tastes like his minty shower gel and cinnamon sugar from the snickerdoodles. It’s the perfect combination to make your mouth water.

He tangles his fingers into the waistband of your pyjama shorts, trying to tug them down. You go to stand up to help him, but the whine he lets out stops you in your tracks.

“Don’t go anywhere.”

“Carmen, if you want my pants off, you need to let me stand up.”

“You can do it here.”

He pulls you back down into his lap, ignoring your raised eyebrows. You manage to slip your shorts and panties down one leg, rising awkwardly on the other to try and get them off. You kick them to the floor, chuckling as you settle back over Carmy’s hips.

“Happy now?”

“Very happy,” he mumbles, reattaching his lips to your jaw. “The happiest. Got the prettiest girl in the world naked in my lap right now.”

Heat rises across your chest at the compliment, head ducking down to avoid his eyes.

“Shut up,” you mutter, tugging down the waistband of Carmy’s sweatpants.

You pull them and his boxers off in one fell swoop, dropping them onto the floor. When you take him in your hand, he reaches out and grabs your wrist, looking up at you through thick lashes.

“Wait, baby.”

You freeze instantly, finally meeting his gaze.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothings wrong. Just need to get you ready first.”

You shake your head, gentle smile on your face. He’s always thinking about you. Selfless boy.

“I am more than ready, Carmen.”

When he looks at you with skepticism in his eyes, you decide to make a point.

You trail your fingers down your stomach, pulling them through your wetness when you reach it. Sliding a digit inside, you rock your hips, throwing your head back. You can both hear how ready you are, and it makes Carmy groan.

“Oh, fuck.”

He’s whispering in awe, careful not to spook you when you’re so clearly in your own little world. You add another finger, and Carmy has to grip your hips as hard as he can to stop himself from flipping you over and having his way with you.

You remove your fingers and shove them straight into Carmy’s mouth, panting as he laves his tongue around them. You both whine in unison. Always so in sync.

“I’m more than ready,” you whisper into his jaw. “Promise.”

“I believe you,” he croaks, wrecked already. “Please.”

“You’re so pretty when you beg.”

You line him up, sinking down ever so slowly. You want to feel every inch, every ridge, every movement. You don’t want to miss anything.

You both drop your heads back in bliss, chests heaving against each other. You’re adjusting, while Carmy’s trying to get a hold of himself. He doesn’t want it to be over too quickly, but it so easily could be if he isn’t careful. He runs his hands up and down the bare skin of your back, admiring how soft you are.

“You’re so fuckin’ tight,” he says through gritted teeth. “Shit, baby.”

“You feel so good. So big, Carmen. Fuck.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” you can’t help but tease, running your thumb over his bottom lip.

“Talk like that. Fuck.”

“Oh,” you laugh in fake realisation. “You like it a little too much, huh?”

He leans his head forward to rest on your chest, gasping when you lift your hips up to drop them back down. It’s all so slick, so easy. It’s like you’re made for each other, made to fit together like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.

You can’t help but want to push him a little further. He’s always so quietly domineering, so seemingly in control, that you love when he allows himself to fray at the edges slightly. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t get you off.

“So you don’t want me to tell you how you’re filling me up just right? That you’re so big, that you feel so fucking good? That I could sit here for hours? That I’ve never had it like this with anyone?”

Carmy’s hips buck up involuntarily, and you chuckle a little cruelly.

“Baby, please.”

“Okay, Carmen. Okay.”

You press a sugary sweet kiss to his lips before settling your hands on his broad shoulders to give yourself some stability. You set a steady rhythm, winding your hips up and gliding them back down with a clear purpose. Your knees ache, and your hips are being held open a little too wide, but you feel delirious with it, high off the pleasure. It’s good. So good.

“Shit, honey. Fuck. S’good, yeah? So good. Keep going, don’t stop.”

You’ve always found his babbling amusing, but right now there’s nothing funny about the way the sound of his voice pushes you undeniably closer and closer to the edge. You never want him to stop talking.

Carmy moves one hand from your hip to between your legs, rubbing soft but intentional circles onto your clit. It sets your nerves alight, whole body buzzing with anticipation.

You keep your rhythm going, even as it’s getting harder and harder to concentrate. You can feel that Carmy’s close, that he’s sitting on a knife’s edge waiting for you. You realise, suddenly, that you want him to come before you. You want to undo him.

You move one hand to tangle in his hair, while the other settles at his throat. You don’t squeeze too hard, just enough to turn his moans into breathy little ah ah ahs.

“Baby, please. Fuck, so close. So good, honey. You’re so good.”

Your grip tightens in his curls, making him groan. Your hips get faster, and so do his fingers on your clit, the pressure more insistent now.

“Fuck, yeah, that’s it, don’t stop baby. Fuck, I love this. I love you. Keep going, so close. Atta girl.”

Your brain is too lost in your actions to register his words. Instead, you press your forehead to his, kissing him gently in contrast to the violent slam of your hips. This juxtaposition seems to be Carmy’s undoing, his grip on your hip tightening so much you hope it’ll bruise.

He emits the most gorgeous moan you’ve ever heard when he comes, which sends you straight over the edge. You tighten like a vice, whole body shuddering with it. Your climax seems to last forever, every single one of your nerves fried and frayed.

You both come down slowly, foreheads pressed together and lungs heaving. You’re panting into his mouth, smoothing out his hair where your fingers have ruffled it. Carmy’s arms wrap around your back, pulling you in so you’re chest to chest as he presses a kiss to your temple. You sit like this for a while, completely at peace in each other’s company.

Eventually, after what could have been hours but was probably minutes, you break the silence.

“So we should probably talk about the I love you, huh?”

@jazminsjaz @buendiabebeta @kingsqueensandvagabonds

[garlic-press-collection]

All Aluminium Garlic Press. Made in Taiwan.

[raspberriesss]

Thinking about Simon being obsessed with watching you cook.

Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

Ever since Simon came home from deployment he’s been clinging onto you constantly. “Missed you, lovie,” he’d tell you, trying to justify his constant hold on you. Sure, you thought it was cute, this big military man clinging onto you like some kind of koala; but his intentions weren’t always as innocent as they seemed.

•·················•·················••·················•·················••···············•

The day had begun to wind down, the sky painted in an ombré of colors as it set, the chitter chatter from the TV spreading into the kitchen. You’ve cooked everyday since Simon came home, enjoying the comfort of another filled seat at the dinner table.

There you stood, mincing up a garlic clove for the pasta dish you decided to make tonight. The faint bubbling from the pot on the stove filled your ears as you turned your gaze to it, pouring the rigatoni pasta into the boiling water.

A soft patter of feet could be heard against the tile floor of the kitchen, it could only be one person. The warmth of a strong chest pressed against your back, hands wrapping around your waist gently, nudging you back to him. “Whatcha making tonight?” He murmured out by your ear, his gruff voice only sounding raspier from the low tone.

“I’m just making some pasta, s’all,” you said, moving back over the cutting board on the counter, his large stature slightly restricting your movement. Your movement seemed to make his grip grow tighter on you, one of your elbows nudging back against his bicep. “I can’t cook when you’re holding onto me like this, Si,” you said with a huff of a laugh.

He seemed to ignore your words, his face burying in the crook of your neck, stubble scratching against your skin. “You’re just s’gorgeous,” he breathed out against your skin, his large hands moving down to grip the plush skin on your hips. “Simon,” you said softly, head leaning over a bit, enjoying the feel of his breath on your skin. “What’s wrong, hm?” He questioned quietly at your call of his name, his chapped lips pressing a soft kiss to the sensitive skin on your neck. “Just wanna watch y’cook, s’all,” he breathed out against your skin, his words clearly far from the truth.

You decided to try and ignore his soft touches, beginning to mince up the rest of the garlic clove from earlier. His kisses only got more insistent, teeth nipping gently at your skin, his tongue soothing over the skin afterward. “Simon, I can’t,” you began, dropping the knife back down onto the cutting board. “M’sorry, can’t help it when ya looking so good in here,” he said gruffly, one of his calloused hands coming up to paw at one of your breasts over the fabric of your t-shirt. The feeling of something hard was pressing insistently against the small of your back, what could that be? causing your cheeks to only flush a deeper shade of pink.

“Simon,” you breathed out at his touch, head leaning back against him, eyes fluttering closed. He couldn’t help but grin against your skin, moving his face up by yours, pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek. “Think the pasta’s done, love,” he said softly, pulling away from you, and walking back into the living room.

•·················•·················••·················•·················••···············•

Part 2 (alternate ending)

[pepsiboyy]

WHEN THE HOUSE IS EMPTY.

pairing: soft dom!chris sturniolo x fem!reader summary: when chris finally gets the house to himself for the night, he invites his girlfriend over to spend the night spoiling her rotten. warnings: 18+, smut, p in v, unprotected sex (be smart pls), fingering, oral (fem receiving), praise, use of pet names (angel, love), cursing, fluff fluff fluff, established relationship a/n: this is my first smut on here pls bear w me... but i hope it is AWESOME i love u guys <3 please give me feedback also !! i hope this is ok . <3 3.2k words

i swallowed thickly as i grasped the straps of my backpack, standing at the front door of my boyfriend's home.

chris had texted me last night, asking if i could come spend the night tonight as his brothers had planned to do something that had to do with "business stuff".

i had never really done this sort of thing. chris and i had been together about three to four months, and we had confessed our love to one another and kissed and whatnot, but that's about it. it didn't bother either of us, we just moved at a pace we were both comfortable at.

my eyes snapped up at chris opened the door and grinned ear to ear, opening his arms wide to engulf my body into his. "hi, angel," he greeted against my ear.

i hugged his waist with a soft smile. with a deep breath, i took in the comforting scent of his cologne mixed with the scent of his shampoo.

as chris pulled away, he gently took my hand and guided me inside. once he shut and locked the front door, he reached out to take my bag from me and transport it to his bedroom.

i let out a content sigh as i took in the familiar home, but it was so different when it was just chris here. much quieter, too.

"i have such a fun night planned for us!" chris cheered as he came back up the stairs, his hands clasped together in excitement.

i couldn't help but smile warmly at him.

the white tank that hugged his torso perfectly and his black sweats that hung dangerously low kept my attention on him.

"what do you have planned?" i asked as i took a seat at the table in the kitchen, smiling warmly at him.

chris did a little dance, his slightly dampened hair flopping with each sudden movement before he halted and shot two finger guns at me. "dinner!"

i chuckled at his embarrassing dance, nodding softly and standing up. "what're we makin'?"

chris's jaw dropped. "are you kidding? i already made it." he giggled as he opened the oven to reveal a tin of fettuccini alfredo with grilled chicken, some slices of garlic bread on the side. he also went into the fridge, where behind all the different lyrical lemonade cans, there was a bowl of ceasar salad.

"did you make this yourself?" i asked, my jaw hung open in shock.

"well," he started as he trailed off, "i guess nick helped a bit.. and youtube... matt, too, sorta.."

"it looks amazing," i stood up and smiled as i wrapped an arm around chris's waist, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. "i can't wait to eat!"

i moved to pull away, but chris gently took my jaw between his fingers and turned our faces together again, exchanging one quick peck to my lips. "me neither," he replied with a soft smile.

dinner was outstanding. i never could have thought that chris could put something like that together.

"blue shell!" chris's voice boomed as his hands gripped the controller in his hands.

"fuck!" i shouted, my tongue sticking out in focus as i tried my hardest to remain in first place in mario kart.

"please, please, please, please," chris chanted, his entire body straight as he was sitting at the edge of the couch. "yes!!" he shouted, flying past me in the game at the last moment to take first place. his arms flew in the air, controller loosely dangling from his fingers as he shot me a shit-eating grin.

"not fair," i stated quickly.

"it definitely is, y/n, i won fair and square." he defended, moving to hug my waist and press his nose into the crook of my neck.

i chuckled at this, a hand of mine moving to his jaw to caress his cheek softly. "fine. you win."

chris did a small fist pump before pulling away with a bright smile.

we sat like that for a few moments, eyes locked on one another before he gasped at the song that came on. "oh my god, i fucking love this song." he stated quickly as he took my hands and stood to his feet, dragging me up with him.

i gasped at the sudden movement, my smile never leaving my face as i laughed beside him.

3 nights by dominic fike had started playing in the speaker that chris had set up, which was playing ambient music most of our time tonight. he turned it up and smiled widely as he held my hands, waving them around and biting his lip into a wide smile.

i couldn't help but smile at him, the way his curly hair bounced with each silly dance he did, his fingers never unlocking from mine. every once in a while he would stop for a breath before starting again, his eyes locked on mine.

i did my best to keep up, jumping around with him and waving my arms as we both loudly sang the words. no matt to give us shit for being too loud in the living room today.

the song eventually came to an end, both of us panting softly as we both smiled at one another. a soft chuckle escaped both of us, before the next song began playing.

i wanna be yours by arctic monkeys?

"since when do you listen to this?" i chuckled.

"i- it's a good song," chris defended, his cheeks growing pink as he moved his hands to gently take my waist. "also because it's one of your favorites."

i smiled warmly at him. "alright, buddy," i smiled. i moved my arms up to rest on his shoulders, my hands connecting behind his head as i looked up at him and chuckled. "are we slow dancing in your living room?"

"maybe?"

"is this your idea of a smooth move?" i joked, a soft giggle leaving me as chris's face burnt up.

"hey, let a man live." he defended, his thumb gently rubbing circles on my back as we swayed softly.

i had to give it to him - i was having a great time with him.

what started as me being a nervous wreck for whatever reason resulted in me having an amazing time.

"y/n," chris stated softly, dragging me out of my thoughts. i locked eyes with him, smiling. "i love you," he whispered softly.

i could feel my cheeks heat up. "i love you too, chris." i smiled as i gently moved a hand to bury into his hair, gently running my fingers through it. "i've had a great time so far tonight."

chris smiled at this, nodding softly as he removed a hand from my waist to gently press against my cheek, holding my face there softly. "can i kiss you?" he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

i nodded softly as i closed my eyes and leaned forward, closing the gap between the two of us.

chris's thumb gently grazed my cheek as he kissed me softly, his eyes closed.

no words could express the feelings i was feeling right now.

feeling a bit bold, my arms tightened around him as i deepened the kiss and tilted my head softly against him.

i could feel chris's lips curve into a small smile as he moved his hand from my waist to my lower back, his lips working against mine in sync with me.

when he gently took my bottom lip between his, i parted my lips softly as our tongues collided.

a few more moments went by and we pulled away, both with heavy breaths and a string of saliva that kept us connected for a brief moment.

we stared at each other for a brief moment before i took a deep breath. "chris," i started, before taking his hand in mine and interlocking our fingers, "i'm, uhh... i'm ready.. if you wanna-"

"me too," he quickly stated, a bright smile on his face as he tightened his grip on my hand and began walking towards the steps downstairs, which i followed and giggled as he tripped slightly on the way to his room.

"watch your step, chris!"

"i'll be fine," he smiled as he opened the door and turned us around so that my back faced his bed, his foot lifting off the ground to kick the door shut behind him. the door shut a little louder than he had anticipated, causing us both to flinch. "oops."

"chris-" i scolded, but i was quickly cut off when he pressed his lips to mine once more, gently pushing me against the mattress and hovering over me.

his hand gently grazed my hip and toyed with the hem of my shirt. he pulled away from the kiss to glance down at his hand, and back into my eyes. "is this okay?" he asked softly, which i quickly responded with a nod. "tell me if anything isn't okay, alright?" he stated softly, and gently began lifting my shirt off of my body.

the comfort of chris's voice was enough for me to let him do whatever he had wanted.

the cold air of the room kissed my skin, causing a shiver to run through my body. but every goose bump on my skin melted away when i stared up at chris, who was pulling his own shirt above his head.

"you okay?" he questioned, leaning down again to caress my cheek softly.

"i promise everything's fine," i reassured with a shy smile, and chris smiled back, pressing a kiss to my lips before he pulled away.

he kissed against my neck softly, sending shivers through my body. his lips moved down to my shoulder, down to my collarbone and down the center of my chest.

i felt like he was exploring the entirety of my body.

"can we take this off, love?" he asked, gently tugging at the strap to my bra.

i nodded quickly as i sat up and reached behind me to unclasp it, but chris's hands came around mine as he did it for me.

i felt my face heat up as it dropped, and my arms instinctively moved up to cover myself.

"shhh," chris reached to my wrists and gently lowered my arms, his nose moving up to press against the shell of my ear. "you're gorgeous. no need to hide, not ever." he gently pressed a kiss to my jaw before working down again, his lips moving to press against the skin of my left breast.

my breath hitched slightly at the feeling as i instinctively moved a hand to his hair.

the moment his lips pressed to my nipple, i felt my eyes scrunch shut as i arched my back slightly into him. the feeling was so familiar yet so unfamiliar.

chris's tongue circled around it, his eyes shut as he ran his hand up my stomach to gently knead at my right side.

i let out a shaky moan, one hand burying into his brunette locks as the other dove into the sheets.

chris eventually switched to give the other side the same attention, and after a few moments, i shakily lifted my hips to meet his, which caused a groan to erupt from us both.

chris lifted his head and moved back up to press a soft kiss to my lips, his eyes locked on mine. he admired me for a moment before his hands met with the hem of my pajama pants. "may i?" he questioned softly, his voice groggy. i nodded quickly.

chris gently tugged my shorts down and let out a shaky breath, simply at the sight of the thin, deep red fabric that hugged my hips.

i smiled softly at him. "like what you see?" i joked, and chris simply shot me a knowing glance.

"always, angel." he stated softly before he shifted his body on the bed.

"wait- what are you-?"

"takin' care of my girl," chris stated softly, his eyes moving to meet mine as his face was now inches away from my core. "is this okay?"

i blushed darkly. i was no expecting all this. "yeah, yeah that's perfect," i breathed, shifting my hips against the sheets slightly.

chris moved to press soft kisses against the insides of my thighs, his eyes closed. one hand found its way to move my underwear to the side before both of his hands wrapped around my thighs to lock them in place.

my eyes squeezed shut and my entire body shuttered as he pressed his lips where i needed him most, his tongue gently gliding along my folds until they reached my clit, where he sucked softly. i tossed my head back and released a moan as a hand subconsciously moved to lace into chris's hair. "shit." i breathed.

chris's eyes met mine for only a second before he unlinked a hand from my thigh, pressing a finger against my folds.

i shuttered slightly before a gasp escaped me at the feeling of his finger entering me, my eyes squeezing shut.

"is this okay?" was all he said, his breath hot against my clit.

"fuck, yes," i moaned softly, my volume increasing as chris gently pressed a second finger inside my cunt and began curling them gently.

my back arched as i threw my head back, letting out a shaky breath before i bucked my hips to the best of my ability. my hand gently tugged at his hair as i guided his lips back to my clit.

chris seemed to get the hint, his tongue beginning to lap against me as he sucked on the bud, his fingers pumping and curling inside of me.

"shit, chris-" i gasped as i tugged at his hair softly.

chris removed his fingers and repositioned his body before his tongue entered my cunt, his thumbs prying me open as his nose occasionally grazed my clit.

i let out a string of moans, my hips lifting off the bed and into his face as i warned him of my release.

"i- i'm close, chris, fuck," i breathed.

with the continuous thrust of his tongue, chris moaned softly against me, sending a vibration against my core.

with a gasp and a tight grip on chris's hair, i clenched around his tongue and released my juices against his tongue, my eyes lidded as i panted softly.

chris helped me ride out my high, his hand gently caressing my thigh as he removed himself. he looked at me and licked his lips, a hand reaching to his shirt that he had previously removed. he used it to wipe off his mouth before he pulled away to begin sliding off his black sweats.

"you could have gotten a towel or something," i teased.

"that's too far." he defended, winking softly. "you still okay?" he questioned, gently tossing his sweats onto the floor.

i nodded quickly. "i promise, i-" i took a deep breath, my cheeks still pink from a few moments prior. "as long as i'm with you, anything is okay, chris."

chris simply smiled softly at me. "that's what i love to hear, angel." he whispered before he gently tugged his boxers down, his member meeting with his skin as a small dribble of precum escaped the tip.

your eyes locked on him, causing a chuckle to escape chris. "let's be polite, now," he whispered, moving his fingers to press against your chin, tilting your head up to meet his eyes and press his lips against yours lovingly. he pulled away and shifted between my legs, smiling softly. "you ready?" he asked softly, and i nodded eagerly.

"ready," i whispered, moving my hand to gently interlock with his.

chris used his free hand to gently part my legs and press his tip against my opening, making my breath hitch.

he slowly pressed into me, deep groans and moans sounding from both of us as chris's bangs hung over his eyes. "fuck," he grunted as he continued to move into me, before he bottomed out and stared at me.

with a few moments to adjust, i shot him a soft nod before he began to move slowly. "shit," he moaned softly, his grip tightening on my hand as he rocked his hips against mine.

our eyes locked, and i swear that did something to chris, because his entire face beamed red as he picked up his pace and pressed his forehead against mine.

a low moan escaped chris's throat as he thrusted into my cunt, my eyes rolling back as i allowed my jaw to hang open. a series of moans escaped us both.

chris gently unlocked our fingers to get a grip on my thigh to lift it. he held up my leg, now hitting a new spot inside of me that made my back arch off of his mattress. "oh fuck," i moaned, my eyes squeezing shut as he pounded against my gspot. "right there, chris," i moaned, causing chris to pick up his pace and slam his cock harder into me.

my eyes teared up slightly at the euphoric feeling, my heart racing as i felt my stomach tie into a knock. chanting his name, i gripped the sheets and clenched against him, resulting in a deep moan from chris's lips.

"fuck, angel, careful," he grunted against my ear, his breath heavy against my shoulder.

i gasped and let out a shaky moan, moving to grip chris's shoulder. "fuck, i'm gonna cum," i breathed, and chris nodded softly.

"me too, love, fuck," he moaned softly, his hips rutting into mine.

a few more thrusts resulted in my voice booming as i cried out, the knot in my stomach snapping as i released all over chris's cock, my eyes squeezing shut.

chris's hips sputtered at the pornographic moan, his throat releasing a deep moan as he pulled out and released against my stomach and chest, his hand moving to gently pump at his member.

chris moved to lay beside me, our eyes shut as he laid beside one another catching our breaths.

i let out a shaky sigh as i turned to chris and smiled weakly, sleepily.

chris turned and met my eyes, a sleepy smile on his face, but it was the same as every other smile he had given me today. "how do you feel?" he questioned, his hand moving to lock with mine again.

i chuckled breathlessly, nodding softly. "fuckin' awesome," i chuckled as i leaned forward to kiss his cheek gently.

chris smiled warmly at me before he reached to get a few tissues, wiping off my skin the best he could. "you did so good for me, angel." he whispered, moving a hand to brush a strand of hair out of my face. "fuck, i'm tired." he admitted.

i scoffed at him as i opened my arms. "me too, chris."

chris bit his lip as he shifted to rest his head against my chest, his eyes closing as he hugged my waist tightly. "i love you s'much." he whispered softly.

i smiled and bit my lip as i kissed the top of his head. one hand threaded through his hair as the other gently rubbed his side. "i love you so much, chris.. thank you for tonight." i whispered.

chris nodded lazily in response, and i chuckled lightly. "get your beauty sleep."

the two of us slowly fell asleep, skin to skin as we breathed together and slept soundly.

maybe i should spend the night at my boyfriend's more often.

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