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#how to make white sauce pasta
luckystorein22 · 1 year
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Indulge in Exquisite Flavors: Tartufi Jimmy White Truffle Oil Spray Adds Luxury to Your Culinary Creations!
Indulge in Exquisite Flavors: Tartufi Jimmy White Truffle Oil Spray Adds Luxury to Your Culinary Creations!
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Adding a few spritzes of this truffle oil to your culinary creations can transform a simple dish into a gourmet masterpiece. The rich and earthy aroma of white truffles complements a wide range of ingredients, from pasta and risotto to grilled vegetables and roasted meats. Its versatility allows you to get creative in the kitchen and experiment with different flavor combinations.
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So go ahead, indulge in the exquisite flavors of Tartufi Jimmy White Truffle Oil Spray, and let your culinary creations shine with a touch of luxury. Your taste buds will thank you for it!
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skeletonpendeja · 6 months
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Shit I been cooking lately
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dorothygale · 19 days
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I'm so in awe of everything about your mac & cheese tags, a) wtf, b) how did you discover this, c) you're so valid for this because it is the brand of thing I would notice about something I love and then never shut up about for as long as I live
thank you 🫡 even since i was a kid there were two varieties in my head, presumably just due to random cooking variations, but after living on my own for a while i started thinking it was more than that since you would assume one person would have pretty consistent habits with something they do like 3 times a week lmao. i wondered if they were perhaps made in different locations so i began looking at the boxes to see if there was any difference. it was actually easier than i thought with the printing color because i had imagined it might be like some minor difference in digits somewhere lol
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yewstronaut · 1 year
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*insert bat emoji here*
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y'all ever get annoyed at like. food snobbery
#like I keep getting these youtube shorts recommended and they're by a lady who moved from the us to italy#and the shorts are fun enough but on one where she made boxed mac and cheese for her italian boyfriend the comments were all like#ugh yeah that stuff is disgusting and awful I always make my pasta by hand it's really not that hard 🙄#and idk I'm just like#the main consumer of that is probably poorer people#I'll probably still eat it when I live alone because even though I don't love making it it's easier than other things and chronic#illness is hard#and people are tired and busy#and I just like#it kinda hurts#plus like while I will be the first person to say I do NOT love america#you can still make the best of a bad situation#just because I don't love my country doesn't mean my friends suck because they live here or I can't experience love or something#and arguably no mac and cheese is not a culinary masterpiece#like#idk#you don't have to trash something to not like it#I don't like soy sauce#I don't say that the people who eat it just have no clue how to eat something without it or something#idk I'm just tired and everything but I've always hated being told I don't have culture because I'm from the us or I'm white or etc etc#and a lot of that is tied to what I'm inclined to call generational trauma even if they don't directly relate to it because that thing is#something I associate with my culture#I just#okay beans on toast right? that's a british clasic dish isn't it? something I also happen to dislike#how is boxed mac and cheese different besides being more heavily processed (something pretty much everything in the us is)#and also just because it's heavily processed doesn't mean it's awful#some of the recipes in our multi-generational family cookbook are probably super weird jellos and that's okay with me yk?#and besides the culture part going back to my first points sometimes I just want easy food. easy to make easy to enjoy#something I don't feel the need to ~appreciate~ and ~savor~ and take pictures of#I don't need to sacrifice myself for my food to enjoy it. all I need to do is like it
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the-jellicle-duelist · 5 months
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i am about to bestow upon you the secret butter technique. i am sorry, but it is french. i am sorry again, this only works with cow butter. i am certain plant based butters wouldn’t work, and alternative animal butters may or may not work
has this ever been you: you have a nicely steamed vegetable, or maybe you want to make the best butter noodles, but you know that if you put butter on those it’ll just melt and you end with kind of greasy noodles or vegetables? don’t you wish it was instead a luscious buttery glaze?
introducing: beurre monté
you will take a small sauce pan, and begin heating it with 1-2 tablespoons of water (use very little water) and bring it to a hard simmer or boil
turn the heat down slightly, and add Butter. how much? however much you dare. (start with 3-4 tablespoons and go from there)
you are going to either whisk Aggressively or you can pick up the saucepan, still holding it over the heat, and swirl aggressively so the butter is skating around the sides of the pan
done correctly, you will have liquid butter that is still emulsified. you have made Butter Sauce. season it with a little salt, and toss whatever you want in it.
if you’re butter splits, i’m sorry. you didn’t agitate it enough to maintain the emulsion, and now you have melted butter.
you can use this knowledge to make other sauces by swapping out the water for another liquid. white wine becomes beurre blanc. red wine is beurre rogue.
you want to CUM? sweat minced shallot in a tiny bit of butter, add white wine and cook it out until it’s reduced by about half. then whisk butter in hard. a few flecks of minced thyme or fennel frond stirred thru, and you eat that with a nice seared fish? or scallop? or even shrimp? wow. you will Nut
your boxed mac and cheese game can also be elevated by cooking your pasta and making a beurre monté first, tossing your pasta in that and adding the cheese packet. wow. hey; you’ll cum
go forth now with this butter secret
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taeghi · 26 days
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dangerous when wet | teaser
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RELEASE DATE : idk
you find out your next door neighbour loves shower sex.
PAIRING: neigbour!jake x y/n
GENRE: smut, shower sex duh, unprotected sex, oral, masturbating, dirty talk
WC: probs 10k
taglist???
mdni
you've been living in your apartment for a year now, and it finally feels like yours. it wasn’t much when you first moved in—just a small, empty space with plain white walls and a few pieces of basic furniture that came with the lease. but over time, you’ve slowly transformed it into something that feels warm and welcoming.
you’ve spent countless hours finding the perfect decorations for it. you’ve put up pictures on the once bare walls, just to take them down again and put some new ones up. you wanted everything to be perfect. you wanted it to feel like you.
most days, it’s just you here, alone with your thoughts and your textbooks. you’re deep into your college studies majority of the time. but, you’ve made your apartment perfect for studying. it’s quiet, organized and everything has its own place of where it belongs. 
you like that it's quiet here. after a long day on campus, your apartment is your retreat, your safe space. the outside world can be overwhelming, but in here, everything is just how you want it. there’s a kind of peace that comes with knowing you have a place that’s all your own, where you can shut the door and leave everything else behind.
today is one of those rare days when you don’t have any classes, so you’ve planned to spend the entire day catching up on your studies. you’ve got your textbooks laid out on the coffee table, your laptop open with a dozen tabs ready to go, and a playlist of soft music playing in the background to keep you focused.
but as you’re about to dive into your notes, you hear some noises in the hallway. at first, it’s just a faint rustling, but then it gets louder, like someone’s moving furniture or carrying something heavy. you pause, your pen hovering over your notebook, and listen. the sounds continue, voices joining in, and for a moment, you wonder what’s going on. then it hits you—mrs. blue, the sweet old lady who used to live next door, moved out last week. someone must be moving in now.
curiosity gets the better of you, so you quietly get up and tiptoe to the front door. you peek through the peephole, trying not to make a sound. through the tiny lens, you see a boy around your age standing in the hallway, a cardboard box balanced easily in one hand. even through the peephole, it’s clear that he’s good-looking and he knows it. 
he’s laughing at something one of the other guys says, his smile wide and easy, and you can’t help but notice the way his confidence just radiates off him. there are a couple of other boys with him, also carrying boxes into the apartment next door, and they’re all chatting and joking like they’ve known each other forever. you wonder which one of them, or how many of them are moving in. 
you watch for a moment longer, feeling a strange mix of curiosity and something else you can’t quite name. this new neighbor is nothing like mrs. blue, that’s for sure.
but for now, you go back to your studying, putting in your headphones this time and ignoring the slight bumps you hear from the furniture being moved around next door. 
it isn’t until later when you’re making dinner that you realize you’re out of sauce for your pasta. you check all your cupboards for anything you can use, but turn out empty handed. 
you sigh, knowing that you’ll have to run to the store to get some more sauce for your dinner. you wanted to have one day where you could just stay in your apartment all day and relax. 
but, you grab your purse and decide to leave for the store, keeping on your pink pajama shorts and top since you think that you’ll only be running in and out of the store in a short amount of time. 
you’re halfway into the hallway when the door to the apartment next to yours swings open and you almost walk straight into someone. you gasp, stumbling back a step as your eyes dart up to see who it is. 
“i’m so, so sorry! are you okay?” the words tumble out of your mouth in a rush as you steady yourself, your heart still racing from the near collision.
the man in front of you looks down at you, and you realize it was the man from earlier you saw through your peephole. you’re too flustered to say anything else. he’s taller than you though and his tousled brown hair is pushed back off of his forehead. a slow, easy grin makes his way onto his face. 
he glances down, taking in your outfit and chuckles softly. the sound makes your cheeks burn with embarrassment, and you suddenly wish you’d at least thrown on a hoodie before stepping out. 
“it’s alright,” he says, his voice smooth and warm, like he’s genuinely amused by the situation. “i’m jake, by the way. i just moved in.” he extends his hand to you, and it takes a second for you to register what’s happening.
“i’m y/n,” you manage to mumble as you shake his hand, your voice coming out more timidly than you’d like. internally, you’re cursing yourself for being so shy, especially in front of someone who seems so effortlessly confident. his hand is warm, his grip firm, and you can’t help but feel a little more flustered as you pull your hand back.
“nice to meet you, y/n,” jake says, still smiling that smile that makes it hard to think straight. “i’ll see you around, then.” with that, he turns and starts walking down the hall, catching up with a couple of guys who are waiting for him. as they pass by, both of them wave at you, and you manage a small wave back before they disappear down the apartment building steps.
once they’re gone, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, your cheeks still warm with embarrassment. you’re standing in the hallway in your pink pajamas and just almost ran into your ridiculously hot next door neighbour. 
you cringe at yourself and start to leave the building as well, making your way to the store. you can’t stop thinking about jake the whole way there. you’re both curious and intimidated by him. he’s attractive, confident and seems so carefree. everything that you’re not. 
you wonder what its going to be like living next door to someone like him.
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full release date idk
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orientaltasty · 2 years
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Creamy Fettuccine Alfredo Recipe
How to Make Fettuccine Alfredo with white sauce
Ingredients ¼ cup butter 1 cup heavy cream 1 ½ cups freshly grated Parmesan cheese 1 clove garlic, crushed ¼ cup chopped fresh parsley
Directions 1- Gather all ingredients. 2- Melt butter in a medium saucepan over low heat. Stir in cream and simmer for 5 minutes. 3- Add cheese and garlic; whisk continuously until heated through. Stir in parsley and serve.
Homemade Alfredo Sauce
The best homemade Alfredo sauce recipe made from scratch with only a handful of natural ingredients. It’s so easy, comes together in just minutes, and will knock your pasta socks off! Store-bought Alfredo doesn’t even compare.
If you love Alfredo like we do, you won’t want to miss our Chicken Alfredo or Shrimp Alfredo recipes!
Is there anything better than the combination of butter, cream, and cheese? Maybe a warm chocolate chip cookie. Maybe. This homemade Alfredo sauce recipe is rich, creamy, and completely luscious. It’s just begging for some warm pasta to coat.
What is Alfredo Sauce? Alfredo Sauce is a rich, smooth and creamy white sauce perfect for serving with cooked pasta. Authentic Italian Alfredo sauce is typically made with Parmesan cheese, butter, some warm pasta cooking water, and salt. Over the years, it’s been adapted to include heavy cream – I think we can thank the Americans for that one. Lol.
Alfredo Sauce Recipe Ingredients Most Alfredo sauces are made with only Parmesan cheese, butter, cream, and salt. But we took the liberty of adding in some garlic and extra seasonings to make it that much more delicious. This is the only recipe you will ever need! Here’s the breakdown:
Parmesan cheese: For optimal results, use real Parmigiano-Reggiano right off the block. Avoid those shaker-style containers or tubs filled with pre-shredded cheese. They don’t melt properly, making your sauce grainy. And they simply don’t taste nearly as good as fresh. Butter: Either unsalted or salted work great. If using salted butter, I recommended omitting the additional salt until you’ve tasted the sauce and then add extra, if necessary. Heavy Cream: We use heavy whipping cream for the ultimate indulgence. This will give you the creamiest, richest results. Go big or go home, right? You certainly can use regular heavy cream, though, and it will still be wonderful! (See note below for lower-calorie options.) Garlic: We use a mix of garlic powder and fresh garlic, which we think is perfect. If you want a more subtle garlic flavor, you could cut back on one or the other. Seasonings: Salt, pepper, and dried Italian seasoning. This trio of spices really takes the sauce up a level. Parmesan cheese is already salty, so we’re only adding in a touch more.
Frequently Asked Questions Can I make Alfredo Sauce with milk instead cream? Yep! To us, this sauce is meant to be indulgent, so we go all out and use heavy whipping cream, but if you want to lighten it up and cut back on calories a little, we get it! Regular heavy cream, half-n-half, or whole milk can definitely be used. Keep in mind, that the less fat content, the less thick the sauce will be. How to thicken Alfredo Sauce? We think our recipe is thick enough, but if you want it even thicker, you have a couple options. (1) Make a roux: In a pan over medium heat, melt some butter and then whisk in an equal amount of flour; whisk constantly until combined and smooth, then whisk a little bit of that into the simmering sauce. (2) You can also make a slurry: in a small bowl, whisk together a little cornstarch in with some cold water until the mixture is smooth. Slowly, whisk the slurry into the simmering sauce until the desired consistency is reached. Is it gluten free? Yep! This recipe does not include a roux made with flour, so it is considered gluten free.
Can I use white sauce instead of Alfredo sauce? Is Alfredo sauce and white sauce the same? What is Alfredo white sauce made of? How to make Alfredo sauce?
How to Make Fettuccine Alfredo with white sauce, how to make alfredo sauce without cream, alfredo sauce recipe, homemade alfredo sauce with heavy cream, 3-ingredient alfredo sauce, authentic alfredo sauce, how to keep alfredo sauce creamy, alfredo pasta recipe,
#Fettuccine #FettuccineAlfredo #WhiteSauce #PastaRecipe #Italianpasta #Creamy #Alfredo #creamypasta #creamylayer #italianfood #food #foodporn #instafood #foodie #pasta #italy #foodblogger #foodphotography #pizza #foodlover #cucinaitaliana #italia #foodstagram #yummy #instagood #delicious #italian #dinner #homemade #cucina #restaurant #cibo #chef #love #pizzalover #lunch #ciboitaliano #cooking #pastalover
#pizzatime #healthyfood #pizzeria #italianrestaurant #ristorante #picoftheday #foodgasm #bhfyp #foodpics #cheese #foodlovers #italiancuisine #tasty #spaghetti  #delivery #foodpic #italianfoodporn #pranzo #italianstyle #pizzalovers #foodblog #gourmet #eat #cena #madeinitaly #foodies #napoli #ricette #seafood -------- #مطبخ_سُمية #
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Anonymous woman dropping fusilli pasta on table
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Pasta doesn't make you fat. How much pasta you eat makes you fat. See more...
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moremaybank · 3 months
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your pregnancy brain hitting hard, and you forget how to make jj’s favorite dinner. and you get so emotional because all you wanted to do was to treat him, but you can remember how to create the sauce
dad!jj lover til the day i die !!!!!
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the kitchen's a mess when jj finally makes it home.
you're covered head to toe in flour and the residue of egg whites. the failed pasta dough is clumped onto your nimble fingers, and tears are welling in your eyes when your eyes meet with his.
"baby...what's goin' on in here?"
your lip quivers, "you've been workin' so hard for me 'n the baby. w-wanted to do somethin' nice for you but i can't remember how to make the pasta."
he smiles, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip when he thinks about your sweetness. tooth-rotting and addictive, even when he should already be sick to his stomach.
"it's okay, mama. you're pregnant, s'posed to be takin' it easy. keepin' our baby all calm 'n shit."
"but how are you supposed to have sauce w-without pasta?" your voice wavers and it tugs at your boy's heart.
"we can order food, babygirl. don't gotta cry. c'mere." he pulls you into his arms, leaning his cheek against the crown of your head after leaving a kiss there. "you're so special. my favourite girl in the world."
"i love you, j. 'm sorry i'm such a psycho lately."
"i love you too, angel. every psychotic part of you. now sit your fine ass down 'n relax."
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concepts ; concepts (ii)
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Simmer #7
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CH7. Spice Box | The Menu [4.1K] Eddie Munson x shy fem!reader: a line cook au.
Eddie held the door open for you as you approached the trailer, hand waving you in as he smiled, shy. 
The trailer was tidier than you’d ever seen it before, a valiant effort made in anticipation for your arrival. The usual piles of washed laundry were moved from the dining booth bench, the ashtrays moved from the living room coffee tables. The trailer was unusually quiet, smelling like mountain cedar, if the can of air freshener on Wayne’s armchair was anything to go by. 
You did your usual, despite the way you felt like you were there for the first time. For a first date. But you toed off your shoes by the door and lingered in the kitchen, fingers twisting together as you wondered what came next. This? This part was new, this was different. 
Eddie smiled shyly as he followed behind, hands skimming your shoulders as he squeezed past you and the counter, opening the fridge. The white-yellow glow filled the room, clashing with the pink sunset that came in from the living room blinds. 
“Okay, what are you feelin’?” Eddie said into the refrigerator, his fingers tapping on the door. “We got stuff for omelettes, I could do pasta, oh, hey, I make a mean gnocchi.” Eddie emerged with a quart of pesto, wiggling one of the diners' plastic containers at you. 
You smiled, shrugging easily because you’d be happy with some toast if it meant Eddie kept looking at you like that. You leaned against the dining table edge, lips pressed together and trying your hardest to keep it together. Eddie looked too pretty in the sunlight, that peachy pink golden flow, the last rays turning his brown eyes the colour of caramel as he looked at you. 
“I don’t mind,” you told him softly, “anything you make will be good.”
Eddie grinned, bashful, cheeks pink and he held his hand out to you, coaxing you into holding onto his fingers so he could tug you forward. You were supposed to look in the fridge too, check out the mountains of fresh ingredients he liked to pack into it, the tubs of homemade sauces and pickled veg. But instead, you stumbled into the boy, socked feet touching his boots, knees bumping. 
It was awkward in an innocent way, your smile shy and matching Eddie’s, his faltering a little when he realised how close you were. His hand held yours a little tighter and when he realised you weren’t moving away, well shit, he didn’t bother to either. His fingers twisted in yours, thumb running over the backs of your knuckles and he swallowed hard as he looked down at you. 
“Uh, we could, uh, I could make some lasagna. Or, or a stir fry?” Eddie stumbled over his words, brows furrowed in concentration as he studied each part of your face. The line of your nose, the fan of your lashes, the curve of your lip. “If you want. I don’t, I don’t mind cookin’ whatever.”
You felt bolder than ever when you let your hand slip from Eddie’s and climb up his forearm, finger wrapping around the cords of muscle there, thumb rubbing at the sensitive skin on the inside crook of his elbow. It made the boy still, lips parting in surprise. It felt nice to be this close, chests almost touching, Eddie’s hand falling to hold your waist instead, fingertips pushed to the soft cotton of your sundress. 
“I’m not, I’m not really all that hungry, right now,” you told him softly. You were nervous, wondering if this was supposed to happen this way. If this was supposed to happen this soon. But you couldn’t bring yourself to step away. 
The refrigerator door was still open. 
Eddie nodded, agreeing. “Yeah, sure. No, same. We can eat later, if you want.” You watched his Adam’s apple bob, felt his fingers squeeze a little tighter at the plush of your hips. “How’s your head feelin’?”
You smiled at his concern and met his gaze. This much eye contact wasn’t all that surprising but the fact you hadn’t been interrupted yet by someone yelling about hot dog bugs or asking where the napkin refills were was. “It’s fine,” you promised him. “Doesn’t hurt anymore.”
A lie, it was a little tender. But definitely no concussion. You’d iced it when you’d gotten home but for a shorter time than you should’ve, too preoccupied with the idea of jumping into a warm shower and shaving every inch of your leg in preparation for your date. If anything, the idea of spending time alone with Eddie was what had your head spinning. 
“Good,” Eddie nodded and you could see him thinking, too much, before he sucked in a quiet breath and lifted a hand to cup the back of your neck. His hand was big enough that it curled all the way round, his thumb tucked into the space under your ear, right along your jaw. You wondered if he could feel your pulse - he probably could. You wondered if he could feel that way it was fucking racing. “Doesn’t hurt, if I do this?”
You were scared to move, worried if you shook your head it would break the spell, scared that Eddie would stop touching you. So you whispered instead, one word on a shaky breath that made Eddie’s eyes get a little wider. “No.”
Eddie pushed his thumb to your jaw a little firmer, suddenly not as worried about touching you, holding you now like you wouldn’t shatter underneath him. “So this is okay?” He whispered back and oh my god, it was more than okay, it was exactly what you wanted and you were still in the middle of his kitchen with the refrigerator light casting over your socks, your shins. 
You licked your lips and gave a small nod, eyes trained on his mouth and you heard the boy suck in a breath. “Yeah, it’s okay.” You swallowed, throat bobbing and Eddie felt it under his hand, the movement making him dizzy. “More than okay.”
His thumb moved up, skimming over the apple of your cheek, fingers fanning out over the side of your neck until they were pushing into your hairline and pulling goosebumps from your skin. You didn’t realise you were both walking you backwards until your hips hit the counter. It was a soft bump, everything Eddie did was gentle and his eyes were watching yours the entire time, searching for any hesitation. 
It’d been a while since he’d been in a situation like this, but he was pretty fucking positive there was none there. 
You confirmed his thoughts by clinging to the front of his shirt, fingertips tugging the material so he’d take the hint and move closer, meeting his chest with yours and it was as much of a first move as you could manage. Shyness still swallowed you, your heart beating embarrassingly fast and all you wanted to do was push up onto your toes and press your lips to Eddie’s but if he rejected you now - for whatever reason - you think you’d have to quit your job and move back to Chicago. 
Your back was against the worktop edge, softened only by the way Eddie let his other hand cup your hip and your chest was against his, chin tilted up to look at him, eyes half lidded and matching his own. You could see every freckle, the fan of his lashes, a tiny silver scar on the left corner of his bottom lip that you’d never noticed before. You wondered if he was close enough to feel the heat from your face, the way your bones must’ve been rattling from the thunder of your heartbeat. 
It was delicious, the way he crowded you, thumb pushing into your cheek so you’d tilt your head up for him, noses almost brushing now, just waiting for something to give. It had been two months of working alongside Eddie Munson, two months of being his friend, learning how he worked, what each of his smiles meant, how lucky you were to receive one. 
Two months of wondering how much longer it would take until he would kiss you. 
He licked his bottom lip, tongue peeking out just slightly, eyes studying every move you made, so hesitate, so unsure, as if the way you were pressing yourself against him wasn’t enough of a clue. “We could, uh,” Eddie cleared his throat, nervous. His hand was squeezing the dough of your hip over your dress, the soft material bunching in his palm. “We could watch a movie, if you wanted.”
He said it so distractedly that you were sure the boy didn’t actually know what he was asking. Eddie’s pupils were blown wide, eyes dark, a familiar sight except there wasn’t the haze of smoke between you both now. You smiled, nervous and shy and giddy and brave all at once. 
“I don’t wanna watch a movie, Eddie,” you breathed and out and the boy folded, the boy melted like butter under the hot sun and you saw his brows draw together, his tense shoulders fall in relief and then he was nodding, eyes on your mouth and moving closer and closer—
“Oh, thank fuck,” he sighed in return, pushing into you in a rush, his lips crashing to yours before he even finished talking. 
 It felt like kismet, that first kiss. It felt like it was supposed to happen, because after your heart soared and your stomach somersaulted, Eddie moved his head one way and tilted yours the other, drawing him closer still with your fingers hooked into the collar of his T-shirt. He made the softest noise, nose pushed to your cheek, his thumb dragging over the corner of your mouth and when you gasped for him, his tongue touched your bottom lip, a silent question. 
More?
You parted your lips for him, kiss deepening, Eddie’s hand on your waist gripping you tighter as your tongue licked over his and you couldn’t remember when kissing someone felt like this. It felt like a summer heatwave, like someone taking care of you, it felt like a bowl of the most perfect food pushed in front of you, like cracking your fucking head off a table and watching the world spin. 
There wasn’t any noise in the trailer except for the hum of the still open fridge door and the soft, breathy sounds from both of you. A sigh, a gasp, a muted groan. It was easy to get caught up in it, no one to interrupt, a whole evening, just for you two. It was a long time coming, a simmering pot, finally bubbling over and when you let out a little moan when Eddie’s hand trailed from your jaw down to your neck, fingers splayed over your throat, the boy pulled back to pant heavily and swear. 
Any shyness you’d ever felt was gone with the way he was looking at you, curls falling across flushed cheeks, lips swollen and probably a matching yours. You reached for him, desperate, your hands tangling into his hair as you tried not to pout. “Don’t stop. Please, Eddie,” you whispered and your voice cracked with need and god, it made Eddie’s eyes stutter shut, jaw dropping before tensing. 
“Fuck, fuck,” he was whispering, moving back to you with an eagerness that was almost overwhelming. 
You thought he was going to kiss you again, but he ducked just slightly and you squeaked when you felt his palms, warm and calloused and so fucking big, wrap around the backs of your thighs. He hauled you up, setting you on the edge of the kitchen counter so you were at his height and both of you ignored the angry squeal of the coffee container, the bread bin and mug stand as your body pushed them out of the way. A new pace was set now and Eddie’s mouth was back on yours before you could ask. 
A desperate, messy kind of kiss, deep and longing and all tongues and teeth. The boy nipped at your bottom lip, groaned when you whined and you didn’t even think twice about bringing your legs up to his hips, caging him in and pulling him against you until you felt the scratch of denim again the cotton of your underwear. 
It should’ve been too much too fast, it should’ve. 
But it wasn’t. 
“This okay?” Eddie asked you breathlessly, words gasped between kisses. He pulled back just slightly, hands cupping your hot cheeks, thumbs soothing over the apples of them. His forehead pressed against yours, a grounding touch. “We don’t have to— just tell me if you wanna stop, yeah?”
You nodded, eyes fluttering shut because you were already pulling him back to you and Eddie followed willingly, one hand dropping to your knee, coasting upupup until he was squeezing at the dough of your thigh and groaning into your open mouth. You felt like a couple of teenagers, making out somewhere you weren’t supposed to, getting felt up by your crush in his parents kitchen. It made you dizzy, it made you wet, embarrassingly so. A dirty, hot throb that wrecked your body and lit up, electric, every time Eddie touched you somewhere new. 
He didn’t go any higher, his hand stayed there, respectful as he could be when you were kissing him like you didn’t ever want to stop. A few inches below the hem of your dress, practically a gentleman, but his tongue was doing wonderful things against yours and when you rocked yourself a little, using your arms around his neck to press yourself against him, Eddie’s own hips canted forward and he moaned.  
It made it easier to drop his other hand from your neck, fingertips skimming just along the curve of your breast before he was dripping your waist and pulling you into him. It wasn’t the best place to be grinding against each other, not when the sofa and his bed were both so close by. But the height of the counter made for the perfect kind of friction and it was dizzying being so close, to be so wrapped up in Eddie. He smelled the same, like lemongrass and smoke and a little bit of cologne. 
And when you gripped his curls a little tighter than before and tugged, Eddie fucking whined into your open mouth, barely kissing, just panting into each other's lips and his gentlemanly touch on you wavered. His hand skirted up, fingers sliding under the hem of your red dress and when they skimmed over the elastic edge of your underwear, he was swearing, eyes squeezing shut tighter and raking his blunt nails back down your thigh.
You shuddered, ripping away from Eddie’s lips to suck in a breath but the boy only moved to your neck and you keened at the touch, opened mouth kisses along the line of your throat, his tongue peeking out to lick across your skin, teeth grazing and fiu let him, head thrown back until the already tender spot hir against the kitchen cabinets. 
It didn’t matter. Nothing else mattered. 
Not when Eddie was dragging his fingers across the neckline of your dress, pushing your sleeve out of the way to expose your shoulders, kissing and sucking at the crook of your neck, mouthing his way down your chest, no bra straps to get in his way. You sighed, the sound coming out with the letters of his name, a noise that made him groan aloud and fuse his lips back to yours, your fingers splayed out over his jaw so you could keep him there. 
You were on fire. It was hotter than being in the kitchen. The simmering pot was spilling over now, the flames were licking higher and the lid of it was crashing to the floor, jolting you back to reality. 
You pulled back, sucking in air, eyes unfocused and the world was spinning too fast and god you just needed to—   
“We should slow down,” Eddie gasped, sounding as wrecked as you felt. His hands were still on you, his forehead resting on your shoulder as he tried to catch his breath, two hands smoothing up and down your thighs. “Fuck, you’re— that was—”
“Yeah,” you agreed and god you sounded drunk. “I know.”
You tried to diffuse the heat, tried to turn down the flame so everything went back down to a simmer, smiling softly as if the kitchen was on metaphorical fire and Eddie wasn’t harder than he’d ever been in his life. “Umm, do you, d’you wanna eat now?”
Eddie laughed into your neck, cheeks flushed rosy pink and he was hot all over, breathless and the happiest he’d been in a long time. He hummed, nodding before he pulled back, dotting a kiss to your lips, much more chaste than before. He couldn’t help himself, placed another on your cheek, your jaw, the slope of you nose too. 
“Yeah, yeah,” he grinned. “How does a grilled cheese sound?”
You laughed too, nodding, because you didn’t think you’d be able to focus on chopping up ingredients or kneading out a dough right now either. “You gonna make it real fancy for me?” 
Eddie beamed, brows scrunched together in disbelief, like he was shocked you had to even ask. “What? Sweetheart, please,” he pushed one last kiss to your lips, grimaced at the open fridge door and kicked it shut witn his foot. “S’gonna be the fanciest grilled cheese you’ve ever had.”
—————
“You have a hickey,” Robin poked at your neck, stating the news very matter of factly as she leaned in between the drivers seat and yours. 
You batted at her hand, eyes wide, cheeks hot as you leaned back to glare at her. “What? No I don’t.”
Steve snorted and pulled into the diner parking lot, joining Eddie’s van and the other few cars that were waiting for a late breakfast. “Wow, that sounded so believable,” he deadpanned. “Enjoy your hot date with the chef last night?”
The day after your dinner with Eddie only egged on your good mood. A bright day, with blue skies and warm air, the kind of Sunday morning that was straight out of a photograph, big white clouds, sunflower fields in the distance, the smell of coffee and waffles coming from the diner doors. 
Eddie had dropped you back at your apartment late, later then he should’ve when he was starting work at six am the next day but you’d stayed to eat grilled cheeses on the sofa with him, pretending to watch some B-roll horror movie as you talked about everything and nothing, legs draped over his lap. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you tried to say but your words got tangled in a grin and they came out too happy, making Steve’s eyes roll as he climbed out of the car. 
“You’re a fuckin’ awful liar,” he told you over the roof and Robin snorted in agreement, bending down to peer at her reflection in Steve’s window. She snapped her gum, baby pink against rose coloured lip balm and flipped Steve off when he popped her bubble. “And we’re all late, ‘cause someone couldn’t find their keys, c’mon.”
It felt like a proper friendship, the way you walked around the side of the diner with Steve and Robin, jostling each other and laughing when they took it too far, the girl shrieking when Steve pulled her into a headlock, encouraging you with a grin to give her a noogie. And the laughter bled into the kitchen when you all stumbled into the fire exit door reserved for staff, smoke breaks and crying sessions in the alleyway. But the laughter stopped when you caught sight of Eddie at his station, whisking a bowl of egg yolks and butter, exactly like you expected him to be at eleven am on a sunday. 
You didn’t expect the girl, though. Or recognise her.
Strawberry blonde and petite, her uniform shorter than yours, her elbows leaning on Eddie’s station as she beamed up at him. She was pretty. Really pretty.
She turned at the noise of the three of you coming into the kitchen, laughter still on Steve’s lips, a faux argument brewing between him and Robin as they tailed off towards the lockers. You stayed standing, a little shocked. You weren’t sure why, you knew there was staff you hadn’t met before, seasonal members of the diner who split their time between Jim’s and other jobs. She wasn’t doing anything wrong. 
She was just— standing too close to the boy you spent the night making out with. 
Eddie had put down the bowl and whisk, cleaned his hands on the front of his apron and smiled at you,  his face lighting up at the sight, a genuine slice of joy in what was about to be an awkward moment. He said your name, almost shy, looking like he didn’t know how to greet you. 
“This is, uh, this is—” he gestured to the girl, trailing off when she bounced over to you, hand extended. 
“I’m Chrissy, it’s so nice to meet you,” she gushed. “You’re new, right?”
“Uh, kinda,” you laughed a little weakly. You didn’t feel new anymore. You felt like you belonged. You told her your name, even though she’d already heard Eddie say it. “It’s nice to meet you too.”
No one else really knew what to say then and your plans to greet Eddie with a kiss seemed ruined. The boy looked at you as if he were thinking the same, his smile lopsided and sweet. But he dished the eggs into a pot and started scrambling them, brushing away a stray curl with the back of his hand and he asked you, “have you had breakfast?”
You rolled your eyes, affection lingering there and you relaxed a little, knowing this routine, loving this routine. You grabbed your apron from the hook, tying it round your waist as you brushed past him, a hand skimming his lower back, the closest thing you could do to a greeting. 
Chrissy tracked the movement with curious eyes. 
“Not yet,” you told him softly and you ached to perch yourself on the stool by his station - your stool - but Chrissy had already walked back over and claimed it. “You gonna tell me off?”
You said it shyly, a hint of flirt there, cheeks warm and smile soft as you gazed up at the boy. Eddie responded in kind, the tips of his ears turning pink and he tried to scowl at you, brows pinching together but he grinned like he couldn’t help it. “I would, if I knew it would work,” he smiled down at you, head tilted to the side all lazy. “You want some eggs? Or I could make you some pancakes?”
And before you could tell him that eggs were perfectly fine, Chrissy’s voice interrupted, she was pushing herself onto the table, leaning on her hands, cheeks coloured with a pretty pink blush and squished together. “Don’t tell me I leave for the summer and you’ve got another favourite waitress already,” she pouted, lips shiny and glassy and pink. “I thought I was your number one, Ed.”
Her words made you feel too warm. That rolling heat that creeped across your chest, your neck, your face. An awfully uncomfortable sensation, anxious, unsettled. You tried to laugh when she did, but the sound came out weak, stilted. Chrissy was looking at Eddie, confident, playful, so sure of herself. 
She looked at him like she really knew him, like there was an inside joke that you didn’t know about. 
You backed away, ignoring how Eddie’s hand tried to catch yours. “Uh, I’m actually not that hungry,” you smiled but it wavered. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. “Thanks though. I’ll, um, I’ll catch up with you later. It was nice meeting you, Chrissy,” you nodded at her, hoping she didn’t see your glassy eyes before you turned and left them in the kitchen. 
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deltaromeo3 · 1 year
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ʜᴏᴍᴇ ɪꜱ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪ ɢᴇᴛ ᴄᴜᴅᴅʟᴇꜱ ⋆ Lando Norris
pairing: lando norris x fem!reader
summary: I NEED A TOUCH DEPRIVED LANDO PLEASEEE like he’s just really clingy and always NEEDS to be touching reader and it’s just really cute (also please femreader) AND MAYBE YOU CAN ADD THAT THEY HAVE CATS!!
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You were seated in the study, where the racing sim and gaming computer were. Of course, these weren’t yours; they belonged to your boyfriend, Lando Norris, who happened to be away.
Lando didn’t mind you using his stuff, in fact he was happy to let use them at your own will. You were wasting your time by playing Valorant with your friends, not even realising Lando was laying on the sofa nearby, looking intently at you with Luna (your cat) laying by his side.
You jumped, getting the shock of your life when you saw Lando when you got up to refill your tumbler.
“Shit! You scared me Lan!” He laughs at your reaction as you placed a hand on your chest, calming yourself down.
He shuffles forward, arms opening, immediately pulling you into a hug.
“Mmm, I missed you,” He hugs you tight.
“I missed you too,” You tried to pull away but the grip only tightens.
“Babe you’re hugging me so tight I can’t breathe,” Your voice muffled into his chest.
He groans, “I need this. I missed my babygirl.” He prolongs the hug but lets you go shortly after.
“I’m gonna take a shower, join me?” He asks and you shake your head, declining the offer as you had already taken one an hour ago.
He pouts, “Okay,” walking off to grab a fresh towel whilst looking down, still sulking.
“Luna, mummy doesn’t love me anymore,” Lando says to your cat.
You laughed at his reaction as you trailed behind him, making your way to the kitchen.
After refilling your tumbler, you went to his suitcase, unpacking it and proceeded to wash his dirty clothes. You even placed his shoes back onto his shoe rack and wheeled his suitcase back into the closet.
You made your way back to the kitchen, and started cooking Lando his favourite go to meal, a white sauce chicken pasta with a side of lettuce.
“Babe! Have you seen my suitcase? I swear I left it here,” Lando points to the spot where he left the suitcase.
You laughed, “I unpacked it for you. Figured you were tired enough,”
You were busy mixing the ingredients in when you felt a warm pair of hands wrap around your torso and a head on the crook of your neck. You smiled, knowing it was Lando.
“Thank you. You’re the best,” He says as he kisses your cheek.
You thought he would let go after that, but he didn’t.
“You’re clingy tonight,” You said as you continued cooking.
“Like I said, i missed my girl,”
You blushed, “I missed you too Lando,”
Luna meows when Lando says that.
Lando laughs, “I didn’t forget you Luna!” He lets you go, crouching down to pet Luna.
It remained this way for a good while. And even when you went to the sink to wash your hands, he remained attached to you.
“Lan,” You call out.
He hums in response.
“Can you grab the plates for me? I can’t reach them cause I’ve suddenly got a koala on my back,” You teased.
He chuckles but helps you with the plates.
You plate the food along with Luna’s with him still hugging you.
“Why don’t you go ahead and sit?”
“You’re eating too, right?” He asks.
You let out a soft laugh, “Of course I am silly,”
He smiles, giving you a peck before letting go hesitantly to take a seat on the island.
You pass him a plate of his food the both of you dig in with Luna seated by his side.
He moans as soon as he takes a spoonful into his mouth. “Have I ever told you how much I love your cooking? It’s so good babe,”
“Thank you, and yes, you have.”
He smiles. “Just making sure you knew,”
★ ★ ★
The two of you were cuddled up on the sofa, when suddenly Luna makes her way up to Lando.
“You missed Daddy huh?” He says to Luna as he pets her amd she meows in response. “Yeah I know you do,”
You paused the show as you needed to go to the bathroom.
You pull away from Lando, earning a string of upset noises, “Where you off to?”
“I need to pee,”
“Okay, I’ll come with,”
“What?”
“Cmon, lets go pee,”
You laughed in disbelief but went to the bathroom to relief yourself. As you were doing so, Lando stood outside, holding your hand. You let go for a minute to wash it.
Once done, the both of you went back to where you left off.
You decided to head to bed when you realised your cat was now in her pillow, asleep, and your boyfriend had dozed off, cuddled into you.
And yes, you could’ve definitely finished the season off on your own but you knew how much Lando enjoyed watching it with you so you switched the TV off and woke him up gently so that the both of you could go to bed.
“Lan,” You said, tapping him gently.
He hums in response.
“Lan, let’s go to bed yeah?” You said, tapping him gently again. He nods in response, slowly sitting up and walking to the room.
You tucked him in then yourself in. As soon as you made contact with the bed, Lando opens his arms, signalling that he wants cuddles. You let out a soft chuckle but shuffle your way to him. Luna wasn’t far behind, finding a spot on the bed beside you.
He embraces and kisses you, quickly falling asleep after that.
You were still awake so you drew patterns on his chest, but after only a few minutes your eyeslids felt heavy and soon, you joined him.
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guppybibi · 23 days
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ᯓᡣ𐭩 | How does the TF141 love? (as food!)
John Price loves like a plate of carbonara 𓐐
It's one of the most beloved Italian pasta dishes out there, just like how he loves you the most! It's a simple dish yet it's hard to perfect, but you learn not to make the same mistakes afterwards. That's what's so nice about it, it isn't perfect. It never is, but even that is something to be cherished. Some of the choices made are questionable to say the least but he doesn't question them any further, he was one of your choices after all. (i have no idea how this connects to carbonara but do u see my vision, the choices are like ingredients..) Spaghetti is the most common pasta to be used in carbonara, outshining the less frequently used rigatoni & bucatini. And who can blame them? It's a timeless classic, a staple. (Just like you two;3) Spaghetti was notably long as well before shorter lengths gained some popularity! You know what else is long? Your prosperous relationship together! (Let's not talk about the creamy sauce.)
Simon Riley loves like a box of chocolates 🍫
It's assorted too! White, milk, dark, name it all! It's no problem-o! It's a surprise in every bite, or swallow but please chew your food. It's a whole new experience every time, it's thrilling. It could be filled with delectable chocolatey sauce, oozing out once you take the first bite! It's sweetness overload, reminding you of the sweet moments you and him have together. Then, the next chocolate has..nuts! Yum, these are a teensy weensy harder to chew especially if you have the teeth of a grandma..Like how it was just a little bit hard to get Simon to open up, to let you in. But sometimes the chocolates disappoint and have a hollow inside :C
John MacTavish loves like a bucket of popcorn🍿
Corn was domesticated in Mexico, a memorable place for Johnny to say the least. A lot happened there..During the early years, it was popped by hand but as we can see now it's popped by machines. How is that significant? Well, it shows how your relationship evolves. It's being nurtured like a little baby by the two of you after all! It gets more efficient, the both of you doing your own part in smoothing the bumps along the road. It's often eaten at movie theaters and sporting events, and what do those places have in common with this man? One word, fun! (This or he could also be pop rocks to be honest idk)
Kyle Garrick loves like a bowl of strawberries 🍓
A strawberry flower averages 5-7 petals according to a website, if you do the 'he loves me, he loves me not' game–you'll always land on the love one! (He purposely takes out the ones with 6 petals, or he plucks them off individually.) Or if he doesn't have time to do all of that, you guys resort to 'he loves me, he loves me lots' because that's just the wholehearted truth! Though strawberries don't always taste as good as they seem, no? Especially if they're out of season, yuck! Again, there's always some sour ones in the batch, but it's no use crying about it. So, you and him just fix it!
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caramelkoo · 7 days
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my soul back home. [1]
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pairing : Jungkook X reader
genre : frenemies to lovers, writer!jungkook, pilates instructor!oc.
summary : your best friend receives your wedding invitation and realizes he doesn't have much time left before he loses you once and for all.
warnings : slight angst, they fight over a packet of pasta, bickering, oc is a pilates girly yayyy, Jungkook is super protective of the oc, misogyny, body positivity, strong language, hate at first sight.
a/n : heyy my besties, i just wanted to show my gratitude to all of you who read my last work. im so so so grateful to each one of you. it's almost 2am for me and i just couldn't wait to share this. Enjoy and let me know how you like it. xoxo. 💕
༺♡༻
6 years ago
Jungkook's growling stomach diverts his attention from the five page essay he's been trying to work on but barely has written a word. Blaming it on his hunger, he gets and up and decides to make himself some white sauce pasta also known as his comfort food. His mom used to make him when he was a child back in the days just so he can get done with his homework without making her work for it.
When he got into a fight in seventh standard and came back home with a nasty cut under his lip, his mom made it again. It's been his go to ever since.
"Shit" as soon as he enters the kitchen though, he realizes that he ran out of pasta last week when his friends came over.
Picking up his car keys he drives up to his closest supermarket. The lady behind the counter smiling at him as per usual. She must be around 60 year old and every time Jungkook has stopped by to pick anything up, she has been super sweet to him. Not to mention how badly she wants him to meet her granddaughter. He wonders if her granddaughter knows about her grandmother trying to set her up with a stranger.
"How you doin' today, boy?"
"Hey miss Cathy, you having a good day?"
"So far so good" Jungkook walks further inside the store and searches for the pasta packet he came here for. When he spots it, he reaches for it unaware of the hand that goes for the very same packet.
The vanilla and caramel like scent hits him like a truck and when he looks beside him, he freezes. The girl which stares back at him has brown hair which matches the color of her striking eyes. There are freckles all over her nose and cheekbones making it look like a group of stars decided to make a home there on her face. Her glossy lips are parted in surprise, her almond shaped eyes wide. Why does he feel warm all of a sudden? Is the air conditioner off?
"hello?" her voice breaks him off his trance. The girl's eyes have gone narrower now.
"I need the packet." He hears her say again. As beautiful as she might be and as badly as he wanted to get on his knees and.. no !! not going there, he couldn't let her take the pasta. Not when it's about his essay. if he doesn't finish it soon his professor is going to have his head on a platter.
"Oh no no no no no no, I need this and I saw it first so I'm getting this"
"Okay first of all that doesn't make any sense. People can see it things from outside the store, does that mean they own it? plus can you not buy it from some other store?"
now he was getting irritated. she had the audacity to look so gorgeous and on top of that she was fighting over a pasta packet?
"It does. No matter how badly you need it, I need it more."
The girl takes a step forward, "Listen, I have no idea what do you need it for and not that I'm interested but I have to make my little sister her favorite pasta with extra cheese or she is not going to leave me and my boyfriend alone."
See, Jungkook is a simple guy. He likes something and he goes for it. If it was some other place, maybe his college or a restaurant, he would have approached the gal and asked for her number oh so politely but this right here? It's a war and he hates losing. No matter how cute the opponent is.
"I'm sure you can persuade her with a popsicle or two. you can find them at the counter right there" he points towards the counter. "Now let me have the pasta because I need to eat my weight in it so that I can finish my essay and be done with it, alright?"
She scoffs, "You're infuriating you know that?"
"Heard somebody call me that once but I believe they were looking for the word 'lovable'" he shrugs and snatches the packet before making his way to the counter silently hoping miss Cathy does not mention her granddaughter again.
The pretty girl yells behind him, "HEY!! WHAT ARE YOU? 5?"
He places the item on the counter and pays the amount before walking out of the store. God, he was starving. Much to his disappointment, someone calls him out.
"Boy, wait!!!" Fuck, it's Miss Cathy again.
He turns towards her forcing himself to smile, "Yes, ma'am?"
"You know my granddaughter-"
"Miss Cathy, I wish I could give you a minute but I'm actually in a hurry. You see, my brother is visiting with his two year old and it's been a long journey for him and he's starving and I need to-"
Jungkook tried his best to lie through his teeth, he really does until a voice interrupts him. That very same voice.
"Really now? And here I thought somebody was so hungry, they started twitching just by the thought of someone else having that packet of pasta" the pretty girl in yellow sundress folds her arm over chest. "Does she know her tits push up when she does that?" Jungkook thinks.
She continues, "Grans, I didn't know you let liars into your shop?"
Wait, WHAT?! Did she just call Miss Cathy "Grans"? Would you look at that? They weren't lying about the world being small. Who would have guess that the girl he's been trying to avoid is the same girl he can't ever avoid for the life of him.
Miss Cathy's loud wheeze echoes through the store, "Trust me y/n, he's a good fella. Jungkook, this is my granddaughter, y/n. The prettiest, my girl."
She looks so proud while introducing her and rightfully so, if she were his, he would also take pride in that. Minus the pasta fight, though. The thought scares the shit out of him and maybe that's why he runs. His feet move rapidly not stopping until he's facing his car in the parking lot.
How the hell did he even let that thought enter his mind? One minute he was sneering at her and now he wanted to make her his? He began imagining what would it be like to call her, his? Quickly starting the engine he drives himself to his apartment. Later that night, he takes a cold shower and fucks his hand while thinking about the same vanilla and caramel scent.
༺♡༻
present time
Jungkook has always loved being alone, his solitude has been something which he absolutely appreciated. Being the eldest son of his family he's been the one to pick up everyone's pieces but when it came to him, nobody served that purpose so he ran. Ran away from his home, from the chaos, the noise and most importantly the responsibilities. That's not to say that he's a quitter but when you have a father sitting on your chest all the time and making it extremely hard for you to live your life, you might as well be called one. He chose his peace and he does not regret anything about it.
Unfortunately though, he left something very precious back home and as much as it hurt him to do so, he knew he couldn't not escape.
The room is quiet enough that he can hear his heart beating straight out of his chest and his breathing turning ragged. When he came back from his early morning run he did not expect to find a wedding invitation in the mail box. he wasn't even planning on checking the damn mailbox if it wasn't for the small part of him wanting to do so.
The man had the whole day planned and now he was standing in the middle of the hall feeling like somebody dropped a huge rock on his chest and said "deal with it" with a piece of paper in his hand he can't wait to burn or tear into pieces. He needs to sit down.
He unlocks his phone and finds your number at the very top of his dial list. You guys were talking last night only about your studio being renovated and it confuses him to the core as to why you didn't mention anything about your wedding.
"Hey, what's up?" your voice greets him, cheery as always.
"You're getting married?" the words seem bitter on his tongue.
"Oh my god, finally. You got the invitation" a dagger through his stomach would hurt less right now. He runs his fingers through his hair, messing them up and continues.
"Were you ever going to tell me about it?"
"No because I wanted it to be a surprise. I asked Taehyung and Cynthia to do the same as well. Aren't you glad you happened to check your mailbox, huh?"
Jungkook blinks, once and then again. He was having a hard time comprehending all of this. Hadn't he checked the mailbox, would you have gotten married and never told him about it? He was going to throw up. When he replies his voice is brittle.
"Listen, can i call you again? I need to run some errands"
"Sure, but don't-" he hangs up and runs to the bathroom before emptying his stomach.
༺♡༻
5 years ago
Sweat drips down from your forehead, your chest moves up and down from how fast your breathing has gone. A moan slips out as you spread your legs a bit wider.
"Just one more aaaaand perfect. Now release" the Pilates instructor's voice reaches to your wet ears. You place yourself down on the mat.
"Fuck, she'll kill me one of these days" Your routine has already been fucked up because of your college exams and after finally being fed up of sticking your nose in the books, you had decided to get on with Pilates. You fell in love with it a year ago.
After working your body in the gym and realizing that high intensity workouts are no good for you, you gave low intensity workouts a chance and boom! The clouds parted and now you're almost in the best shape of your life.
You have never loved your body as much as you do now and if your 13 year old self could look at you, she'd give you a pat on the back. She wouldn't believe that people no longer make fun of her for not having thigh gap or slender arms. Indeed, it took several lunges, roll ups, spine twists, ab burners to get there.
It's not like you have the most anime like body, no. But you have finally stopped beating yourself up over it, accepting the fact that people's negative opinions are just a reflection of their own insecurities.
Your phone pings with a notification and you pick it up. It's the guy you've recently began talking to on hinge. Your boyfriend, now ex, broke up few months ago because he suddenly thought sleeping with his manager would be something you'd look past. Clearly, he was wrong and now he can choke on a thorny dick for all you care.
When your best friend, Cynthia had suggested to join a dating app just for the plot, you did it. Besides, what more could go wrong? An hour of swiping left and two cups of coffee later, you came across a guy with pictures of a guitar, a black cat and a chess board. In your defense, his cat was cute.
The texts reads, "Are you free on the upcoming Saturday? My buddy said there's a new coffee shop and they sell the best hazelnut frappe in existence."
You think before replying. According to the stats, it's the ninth day since you have started talking. Isn't it too soon to be going on a date? Although, there is a small part of you who wants to say "fuck it" and go. Before your thoughts go spiraling you go with the latter.
"Sure. Hazelnut frappe is my favorite" locking your phone you prepare to take a long hot bath. After all, you've earned it.
༺♡༻
Turns out the nerdy guys possessing a hobby of playing chess are not worth it. At least this one isn't. You wonder if you killed a bunch of kittens in your past life because seriously? When you said yes to the date two days ago, the thing you expected the least was your date constantly talking about how many hours he spends in the gym, which protein shake he drinks, even mansplaining about the NHL team he's been obsessed with. Guess you should have seen it coming from the way he couldn't even wait till ten days to ask you on a date.
Honestly, whenever you go on dates you can't help but expect the other person to be on their worst behavior. For example, you can expect the guy to dress badly, smell badly, show up late or conventionally not show up at all. This guy right here is outright insane and has failed to stay in his lane. You were getting agitated at this point.
"And then BOOM!! he shoots the most legendary shot of his life. This is what happens at NHL, you-" he stops when you stand up from your place.
"Excuse me, I'll just be back in a second" you place the napkin on the table as you grab your purse hoping the washroom has a secret exit or something.
But before you could even take a step forward, his voice stops you.
"Oh I know where this is going, You'll excuse yourself politely and then run away like some coward huh? Typical escape plan for you girls?" His voice sounds so nasty and when you turn towards him he's scowling at you like YOU'RE the one who was being a twat the whole time.
you mumble, "What do you mean?"
He stands up and walks towards you. You really try to ignore people staring at you but you're only human. The sudden rush of emotions have caused your mouth to go dry. It's hard to process what's happening.
"What I mean is that you're probably gonna go in there, call your best friend and ask her to help you escape because you can't stand another second with me" he raises his right eyebrow up.
"Sir, please you're causing trouble for everyone. I suggest you to please sit down"
This is beyond embarrassing. If you were planning to give this guy another chance earlier, there's no way in hell you're going to do that now. Over your dead body. So you do the only thing that makes perfect sense. Your hands fly and you hit his cheek with so much force, you swear you hear his jaw pop.
There are several gasps around you. If you're going to get booed on, you might as well make the most out of it.
His face turns sideways before he stands up straight. He raises his hand to hit you back but suddenly, out of nowhere, a hand grabs his forearm and yanks it away. You instantly know who it is. It's the same arm you wanted to twist a year back at the grocery store.
"Get your filthy fucking hands away from her"
After an year of trying to forget about him, he's here yet again and he's saving you from this asshole. You couldn't decide if you should be thrilled about him coming at your rescue or worried about him being back.
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thefreakandthehair · 9 months
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steddie | rating: m | wc: 955 | tags: established relationship, use of cake as a metaphor, they're so in love your honor | art credit: @firefly-party
Eddie Munson celebrates two birthdays every year: the day he was actually born, December 19th, and the day he woke up in the hospital, April 8th. Funny enough, the latter is usually a bigger celebration. Family and friends that no longer exist in separate groups come together with all of Eddie’s foods and drinks, small gifts and sometimes, a bigger gift from the collective.
Try as they might, they’ve yet to top the Metallica tickets. 
But today is Eddie’s original birthday. December 19th— the one that’s usually swallowed up by the holidays, the one that really doesn’t mean all that much to him because, well, compared to waking up after saving the world, why would it? The last few celebrations have been tight-knit, mostly just himself, Wayne, and Steve either at Wayne’s trailer or the tiny little apartment Steve and Eddie managed to find for themselves. 
This year, it’s just the two of them with no one to blame but Mother Nature. A blizzard drops nearly three feet of snow over northeastern Indiana and no one is going anywhere, least of all Wayne whose getting up there in years. We'll make up for it later, Eddie assures him when he calls with a stream of apologies. 
How can he complain though? Wayne will make up for it, he’s snowed in with the love of his life, and the apartment smells like his favorite pasta sauce, the one he knows takes Steve hours to simmer. So no, he’s not disappointed. Not in the slightest. 
“Sorry your day got snowed out,” Steve sighs, plopping down onto the couch and draping an arm along the back of the couch, toying with the ends of Eddie’s hair. “I did get you a surprise though.” 
Eddie’s brow furrows, knitting tightly above his nose. There’s been no mail for two days, and their apartment doesn’t exactly lend itself to keeping secrets. “A surprise? What kinda surprise?”
“Well,” Steve smirks, confident in the way that always makes something stir in Eddie’s chest. “It’s not a birthday without a cake.” 
He’s so fucking lost. 
“A cake? We’ve been snowed in since Sunday and I would’ve smelled you baking in here. Also, I would’ve tasted it already, or at least demanded to lick the spoon so— wait, what are you doing?” 
Steve stands up and walks around the back of the couch, just behind Eddie. “Just close your eyes, okay? Or do I need to blindfold you?”
He can hear Steve’s smug grin without even seeing his face and now it’s not just his chest stirring. Eddie shifts I’m his seat. 
“No, no I can just close my eyes. Put a pin in the blindfold idea though.“ 
With his eyes closed, all he can do is imagine what the rustling is behind him, scenarios that will never compare to the sight he sees when Steve gives him the all clear. 
“Okay,” Steve says, his voice now coming from directly in front of Eddie. “Open.”
Very funny, brain, he thinks. My entire life since the demobats has to have been just one long, final burst of dopamine before kicking the bucket because there’s absolutely no way this is fucking real. 
Steve’s standing in front of him, shirtless, in nothing but some of the tightest shorts he’s seen Steve wear since the time he blindly walked into Scoops Ahoy asking for rum raisin and instead, got a fucking show. They’re dark maroon in hue with the word Cake printed in white script across the entirety of Steve’s ass. Moles litter his skin from the base of his neck down the flesh of his thighs, and the small indentation in his lower back is highlighted by the low waistband. Barely noticeable cuts in the sides expose what looks like black lace detailing. 
“Holy shit,” Eddie groans, unable to stop himself from reaching out and touching the soft, cotton material. 
“Yeah?” Steve looks over his shoulder with a knowing smile. “You like it?” 
Eddie fingers trace the font and he doesn’t even dare to blink. If it is a coma dream, he doesn’t want to risk waking up. “Do I like it? If I ever say no to that, Steve, take me into a field and off me because I’ve been replaced by the body snatchers.” 
Steve laughs and Eddie pulls him in closer, one hand on Steve’s hip and the other working its way up Steve’s thigh and beneath the fabric.
“Y’know,” Eddie starts, swallowing with a dry mouth around the lump in his throat. “There’s just one little problem with this birthday cake.”
“What?” Steve looks back over his shoulder again, this time confused. 
He gives his right cheek a light tap, just enough to relish in the way the plush flesh moves. “It’s not finished.”
“Oh yeah? What’s it need?” 
“You know I need my cakes frosted. And c’mon,” he leans forward and presses a kiss to Steve’s hairy thigh, just below the hem of the shorts. “Where’s the candle?”
Steve turns with a teasing grimace. “Did you just compare your dick to a candle?”
“Sure did. Is it working?” He smiles with his bottom lip between his teeth as he stands and places both hands in Steve’s hips. 
“I can’t believe it, but yeah, it kinda is.” Steve’s eyes flicker down to Eddie’s lips and back up. 
Eddie can barely get his thoughts in order, placing both hands on either side of Steve’s face and kissing him between words. 
“Best.” He kisses his forehead. “Birthday.” He kisses his nose. “Ever.” He kisses his lips. 
They make their way back to the bedroom and no one can blame him for leaving Steve’s ass littered in purpling hickies and love bites. 
It’s a cake, after all.
art by @firefly-party to celebrate @sidekick-hero's birthday today! here's a little collaboration to honor our favorite Cake Enthusiast! Sandy, we love you and hope you have the absolute best day. go give her some love, everyone!
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aestheticaltcow · 9 months
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Teasing
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Carmy smut. The CK ad campaign will be the death of me.
Nothing toooo explicit... I haven't written smut in a very long time, so I kept it casual
MDNI, 18+
The Bear Masterlist
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It started this morning. You were lying in bed scrolling through your phone when Carmy came out of the en-suite bathroom, causing you to glance up casually. A towel loosely hung on his hips to taunt you with his v-line. You couldn’t help it; there was a tingle in your pants from the sight alone.
His hair was pushed back, still wet from the shower. You would have jumped his bones immediately if he hadn’t needed to leave for work. You watched as he opened the closet to grab clean clothes. He threw a pair of pants on your shared bed before opening a drawer to grab a pair of underwear. 
Carmy felt your eyes on him and chuckled softly. “You like what you see, baby?” you couldn’t help but giggle and wiggle further into the mattress. He shook his head and dropped the towel as he pulled his boxers up his legs, “Take a picture; it’ll last longer.” he loved teasing you. 
~
“Take a picture; it’ll last longer.” echoed in your mind as you stared at the spreadsheet you were supposed to be doing that day at work. The numbers didn’t make sense, your manager was being a bitch, and the events of that morning weren’t helping you focus on anything. 
Carmy knew you were at work that day but couldn’t resist the urge to continue that morning’s teasing. He shook his head as he ran his tongue across his top row of teeth. Tonight was going to be a fun one if he had anything to do with it. 
Have I ever told you how pretty you look when I’m inside you?
Or how sweet your pussy is?
Fuck, that pussy was made for me…
I’m hard just thinkin’ about what I’m doin’ to you tonight.
You closed your eyes to suppress the urge to leave work early and storm into The Bear to devour Carmy in the office. 
Nothin’ to say, princess?
~
“You’re home early,” you said from the couch when the door opened and closed. Carmy shrugged as he put his backpack down on the counter. “You hungry? I made pasta sauce when I got home today.” Carmy shook his head and plopped down on the couch next to you, and he kissed your cheek, making you giggle. “You never answered my texts today…” Carmy mumbled as he began trailing soft kisses down your jaw toward your neck. You shifted in your seat, playfully shoving Carmy away. 
He chuckled and pulled you onto his lap despite your protest, “Carm, I’m tryin’ to work.” he rolled his eyes, taking your phone out of your hands and throwing it on the table. He cradled you in his arms and pressed his lips to yours; the kiss started soft and light-hearted, but heat built between you as you began to kiss him back. Your arms instinctively wrapped around Carmy’s neck as he laid you on the couch; his hands found their way under your shirt. One clenched your hip while the other climbed to your chest. He massaged your right breast over your bra, causing you to let out a soft moan against his lips.
Carmy pulled away from your lips to pull your shirt away swiftly. He threw it to the floor and pressed a kiss to your throat before slowly running his tongue down the newly exposed skin. You closed your eyes, savoring the feeling. You tangled your fingers in Carmy’s hair as he lifted you to unclasp your bra, “Gotta let go, baby…” you groaned before releasing your head so he could dispose of the lacy material.
 Your hips bucked involuntarily when Carmy bit down softly on your newly exposed nipple; your moans grew louder as he flicked his tongue against the sensitive skin. Your hands moved down Carmy’s back toward the bottom of his crisp white t-shirt. As you tugged at the material, Carmy pulled his head back and quickly removed his shirt, tossing it into the pile growing by the couch. Your fingers ran down his toned muscular chest toward the top of his jeans. Carmy chuckled before pulling your hand away “There’s plenty of time for that…”
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