Remember how Gordon swore to himself to never let you do the mixing? Well you had that one smart moment and found the loop hole. Of course this loop hole was found via internet and millions of horny teens and real feminists! The horny teens provided the milkshake idea while a polite feminist chased them off and said to go get a blender. Lucky you, it was your old friend (insert a girl that you know is secretly a feminist from your school past schools)! So she even provided you the money seeing as she owed you for hooking her up with the most popular kid in middleschool.... You annoyed the popular person until they submitted and did your bidding, or maybe you threatened to kill their friend. WHO KNOWS? Welcome to middleschool, the years you regret more than elementary and highschool combined. But you aren't in middleschool anymore so you've seemed to surppress many memories well enough.

       Anyway, she gave you enough money to buy a top quality, blender. So top quality that the reason you're even rethinking how you came to obtain this blender is because he asked you. In all honesty, it was fair when he accused you of stealing it somewhere and somehow. But hey, he huffed when you answered.... That's good right? Pfft, hell if I know I'm just the narrator... wait I should know then.... Then uh sure, it was a huff of 'fuck alright.'

         Gordon Ramsay assembled the ingredients quickly. Muttering when he had to take a couple of detours when you misplaced many things. But eventually you... well he had all the ingredients laid out. Unfortunately you and him realized while this doesn't require a bowl, it requires a boiling fucking pot. Ramsay was slightly taken back when he finally remembered this. So, he wrote down the first steps on a sheet of paper and set it on the counter. Afterwards, you watched him go to the complete other side of the kitchen, glaring at you. "Better do this shit right!" He snapped when you made eye contact with him. You quickly turned away with a nod.. This should be easy, he fucking wrote it down. Damn though, he was nice handwriting. As nice as that butterfly passing by your windo- JESUS DO YOU HAVE ADHD?! 

        Anyway, you looked to the saucepan with a shudder. As you looked to the side of the stove, you saw the cream, milk, and sugar that were placed there. Hesitantly, you grabbed the measuring cups that were on the other side with the sheet of instructions. You took the one cup into your hands rather quickly, pouring the whipping cream in there shakily. Even with your best efforts it seemed impossible to not shake as you poured the heavy whipping cream and milk into the measuring cups. This did make somewhat of a mess on the counters, luckily it wasn't all too big. But you found it harder getting the sugar into the 3/4 cup perfectly, it over piled a bit once you were done pouring. At least you could just scrape off the extra back into the bag of sugar. 

        You poured the three in ingredients into the heated pot carefully, hearing the sugar sizzle as you then slowly mixed the ingredients. You watched the pan as closely as possible, waiting for the sugar to melt. To be frank, it was a painful waiting time. Just watching the sugar sizzle and liquify oh so slowly! It made you kind of wish for Ramsay to come over there, unfortunately, you knew he wouldn't dare do that. So, that left you lonely sitting at the stove, just watching a pan. That wait was cut short when you started to see foam rise around the edges of the saucepan. Understandably, you started freaking the fuck out. This earned a chuckle from Gordon as he watched you jitter about, only relaxing when the instructions stated that this was normal.

       "Freaking out (y/n)?" He teased with a sly smirk. The comment alone made you whip your head around, cheeks heating from being so flustered. You narrowed your eyes at him, biting your lip before turning back around; refusing to give him the satisfaction of a flustered outburst. So, you poured the mixture into a medium sized bowl, adding in two teaspoons of vanilla extract afterwards. After mixing that, you set it in the fridge; trying not to slam the door as you did. "See I could do it!" You huffed at the amused chef as you attempted to cooly lean against the fridge. Too bad your precision is shit and you ended up falling back onto the cold kitchen floor. 

        While that wasn't your best moment, you've done worse.... most likely. You're head hurt like hell, the occasional snicker from Ramsay doing little to help. At least you survived even going near a fire source. That of which you forgot to turn off, making it so as you held an ice pack on your head as you watched TV from the comforts of a living room couch; all you could smell was smoke. This did leave you free from attempting dinner as you let the ice cream mixture chill overnight and instead Ramsay was cooking. It was even for free! Probably because he knew you couldn't pay for shit at the moment. 

        As Ramsay cooked simple spaghetti in the kitchen, you watched nothing but TV for the rest of the somewhat calm night. It wasn't calm cause dinner was spent in the living room smelling nothing but something similar to an eternal firework via the burning metal of the saucepan that you probably ruined completely now.

         Alright I'm making a lemon alternate of this chapter, so should the reader be a boy or a girl? I will make a version of the other gender after the first one once it's completed, but whichever gender is voted the most will be written first. Just comment it on this chapter if you want to vote. If no one votes, I will just go ahead and make a male reader version first.