#Personal Chef+Client

[nichelink]

nichelink userboxes (specific terms)

there's some special previews of terms i haven't posted in this post. wow!

[angelmush]

i think culinary school is a portal to hell :) i would strongly advised against it :)

i appreciate u being real w me haha. i ended up going with a community college culinary arts AAS program because $$ and also if i hate it it's easier to change to something different.

[torgawl]

someone was cutting onions during the lantern rite cutscene

[delibitecatering]

Deli Bite Catering is one of the Leading Catering Companies in Dubai, Delivering Bespoke Live Cooking Experiences. We have Mastered the Art of Tailoring our Services to Meet Our Customers’ Needs, Helping them Celebrate their Most Memorable Moments. We Cater For Private Events, Whether Formal Dinners, Friends Gatherings, Parties or Just Birthdays. 

[shy-writer-999]

1-800-LONELYCHEF (ii)

Summary: It's date night with Sanji. He meticulously prepared this for weeks and he's so nervous that he feels like he's going to faint. Afterwards, he's planning on asking you to come over. What will happen if you say yes? WC: 7.5k (read part 1 here!) CW: NSFW! Afab reader w/gendered pronouns (she/her/hers). Modern-ish AU; pwp; intercourse; oral (f. receiving); ejaculation inside. Minors do not interact!

It’s a Friday night. Months ago, you would have been gearing up for a long night at your job, being a phone sex operator. But you quit a while ago and your weekends look different now.

Like many Friday nights over the last year, you’re spending it with Sanji. But this time he’s actually there—materially present, in the flesh, smiling at you a couple feet away.

It’s a special night tonight. You’ve been seeing Sanji for around a month and a half, and tonight you’re at his restaurant, finally. You’ve fantasized about this for ages.

The darling chef across the table from you planned this carefully. He adjusted his schedule—instead of working tonight, he’s added an extra shift in next week, making up for the deficit.

He’s gone to great lengths to ensure that the crew in the kitchen is the best of the best, including that sous chef, who he strongly dislikes—but personal feelings aside, in Sanji’s kitchen there are only the most talented of chefs. He’s made sure of it.

He watched the ordering forms and produce vendors like hawks in the week leading up to this. You will only be eating the best quality ingredients, the freshest food, and nothing less.

Sanji is tense and he’s so nervous that he’s starting to feel sick. He’s running the logistics over in his head, trying to calculate if there’s anything he forgot, anything he missed, anything that could fall flat.

You can tell he’s overthinking, and it’s endearing. When his eyes aren’t darting around the restaurant, peeking into the semi-open kitchen and factoring all sorts of minuscule variables in your dining experience, he’s looking at you.

His gaze is warm, and when he’s around you, he’s sunshine personified. You can’t deny that he looks at you with such reverent adoration that it’s almost off-putting. But nothing he could do could actually put you off. You’re far too in love with him for that.

The restaurant is dark and the lights are warm. Slow jazz music plays at a low volume and the whole establishment smells exquisite.

There are tea lights on each table, with tiny flames that reflect in the gorgeous dark mahogany accents and mirrors on the walls. Next to each candle is a small vase filled with a couple flower stems—tonight, Sanji specifically asked the front of house staff to use your favorite flowers.

Across from you, the blonde man is dressed in what you now know is his signature outfit—black slacks with a button up; the sleeves are rolled up and a few buttons are undone. He looks effortlessly handsome and stylish. Your heart beats a bit faster when he catches your eyes.

How many dates has it been?

You’ve lost track at this point. Maybe you should be taking things slower with him, but you can’t hold yourself back when it comes to spending time with him.

One thing that you’ve been very intentional about, however, is intimacy (which is interesting, given your relationship history). After all, Sanji used to be one of your clients. You’ve had plenty of phone sex, but you haven’t gotten to the real thing yet.

You’re saving that for the right moment. Sure, you’ve made out with him a few times and you can’t deny that you both certainly get excited, but you’ve exercised self-restraint so far. You take this man very seriously. That seriousness entails caution.

The caution is only natural—not only do you feel like this man may be the love of your life, but he also wounded you deeply before. Building your trust, becoming accustomed to his affection and attention, and mending your heart has taken a little while. It’s an active process. But you’re comfortable now.

Soundlessly, Sanji breaks your train of thought. He reaches his hand across the circular table and places it palm-up in front of you.

You slide your hand onto his and he twists his wrist slightly—your fingers are entwined now. His thumb tickles as it draws a soft circle across your skin.

The flame from the tea light on the table reflects in his irises.

“My love?” He asks, rousing you from your stupor of thought. “What do you think?”

He gestures to the scenery around and you take a second to respond, soaking in the ambiance before giving him your verdict. He’s dying to know whether or not you’re impressed.

You haven’t told him yet, but you’ve been here before. Just once. A date took you here long ago, years before you started your old job, years before Sanji took up the position as head chef. The ambiance hasn’t changed much but it feels different now. For one, the man sitting across from you is simply radiating love. He’s devilishly handsome and chivalrous. He squeezes your hand gently.

“I like it,” you reply. “It’s just like you described. Very classy.”

He smiles. “I can’t wait for you to try the food.”

You’ve had Sanji’s cooking before, and it’s (simply put) the best food you’ve ever been served. Any time you go to his apartment, he cooks for you. But tonight, Sanji isn’t in the kitchen. This is a show of his skill in managing the kitchen, purveying ingredients, instructing his subordinates, and running the show, more than anything else.

“Tell me about the menu tonight,” you prompt him. You know he’s put an exorbitant amount of thought and energy into creating and testing what will be served tonight.

This restaurant is French. Sanji describes the prix fixe menu—he tends to link the dishes and flavors he constructs to very specific memories, emotions, or envisioned scenes. It’s impressive, and he shares each nugget of inspiration with you as the courses are served, per a promise he made weeks ago.

This experience is necessarily intimate—this is his passion, his art, the thing that he’s dedicated his life to.

It doesn’t escape him that you’re listening intently, appreciating the nuances of what he’s saying, and looking breathtaking while doing it.

The courses are small and painstakingly procured and presented. It’s interesting, looking at each dish and hearing the waitstaff explain what’s going on with each one, especially when the man in question—the artist and chef himself—is sitting in front of you. You can tell that the waiter is a bit nervous to serve him, but Sanji is kind and affable, putting them at ease immediately.

The first dish is a rocket salad with pears, pea blossoms, and a light vinaigrette.

“This recipe was actually passed down from my dad,” Sanji begins. “The story is kind of funny. Years ago, he was exploring some island and came across a tavern. They served something similar to this. He tried to get the recipe but ended up getting in a fist fight with the owner, so he just had to recreate it himself. He always complains that this salad isn’t as good as it should be, since it’s missing that ‘je ne sais quois’, but over the years he’s tweaked it. I stole it, obviously, and made some of my own adjustments.”

The dish is tangy, refreshing, and bright. It’s ridiculously good. Obviously.

You compliment him and, even though the room is dark, you can make out a pink flush across his cheeks. He lives for your praise.

Next, there’s a soup. Sanji explains how it came about.

“When I was growing up, Zeff had a bunch of leftovers that he was going to use for something else and I swiped them when he wasn’t looking. I threw them into a pot and… this is kind of the outcome. He was making some dish with leeks, so the scraps I stole were mostly leek trimmings. He was pissed when he realized I snagged them. The soup turned out awful the first few tries, like it was literally inedible, but I got it down to a science at some point. The trick is adding in some sage and the tiniest amount of white wine—it changes the balance of flavors completely.”

“How old were you?” You ask between flavorful spoonfuls.

You swear no one has given him any attention or love before, from the way he responds to your questions and praise. He looks genuinely shocked that you’ve asked him a such a thoughtful question. He’s never gotten used to the very sincere attention you treat him with, hasn’t reckoned with the fact that someone like you would be genuinely interested in him. You’ve known him (and treated him like this) since your first conversation, but it still takes him aback.

Sanji explains that he must have been 13 or 14 at the time, and he goes on to describe how upset his dad got with him over the whole fiasco. When Zeff finally tried the one of the more perfected, streamlined iterations of the leek soup, he said dropped the subject entirely. “That means that he liked it,” Sanji explains.

You’ve tried to piece together the man in front of you as long as you’ve known him—evidently, he wasn’t showered with praise as a child. The stories he’s told you, and his reaction to your compliments, make that clear. But he still has so much kindness in his heart, it’s absurd.

While Sanji tells you about the anecdotes and memories that prompted certain recipes, you notice that he’s figeting with the edge of his napkin with one hand. He’s nervous. It melts your heart a bit.

You lose track of the courses. Each is more scrumptious than the last, which shouldn’t be possible, but he’s a culinary genius so he’s pulled it off somehow. Afterwards, there’s a cheese course, a platter of dips, a carpaccio of some sort, a savory galette, another salad… the plates are small and never ending.

The last dish is, of course, dessert. It’s a tiramisu, scooped out of a huge serving dish, table-side.

The layers are defined, and it smells like cocoa. Sanji hesitates with this explanation. You wonder why.

“Tiramisu? How’d you come up with this one?” You smile at him, sensing his pause, and his heart flutters.

“Well,” he says, clearing his throat. “I heard my mom say that she liked it one day, offhand… So, I made it. I’ve been making it ever since.”

This is the first time he’s mentioned her in all your long months of talking. “Your mom?”

“Y-yeah, she uhh… She passed a long time ago when I was a little kid. She got really sick. She never got to try the tiramisu. But, ah, fuck, this sounds a bit cheesy, but whenever I make it, I make it for her.”

“Oh,” you respond, softly. “That’s very sweet, Sanji.”

He averts his eyes for a split-second, and you see that blush is taking over his whole face. Your heart is twisting at his story—how is this man real? He makes it for her? Fucking hell, he’s perfect.

Each story he’s told tonight has given you a look into his character, his childhood, memories, and impressions of the world. The tiramisu is perfect—it’s not too sweet and the flavors are balanced. The perfect way to end the perfect meal.

“Fuck, Sanji,” you say, furrowing your brows in an expression of incredulity. “It’s delicious. Like, one of the best things I’ve ever had.”

“Thanks, sweetheart. I made this batch myself.”

You can taste the love that it’s made with, really. This whole meal has been ridiculously good. You didn’t know food could be this good. It tastes even better because the handsome man across from you is showering you in compliments and the bill is completely taken care of.

“So, what did you think?” Sanji asks when the meal is over, reaching for your hand again. He’s smiling and a bit shy.

“It was amazing.” You respond simply, and he sees your lips curl up into that smile he so covets. “Thank you, Sanji. Seriously. For sharing everything with me. This was lovely.”

“It didn’t disappoint?” His eyes are brightening. You can see he’s starting to positively beam at your praise.

“It didn’t disappoint in the slightest. You’re so talented, it’s just, wow.”

When you leave the restaurant, you walk into the parking lot holding hands. You reflect in the third person for a second—how wild is this, to be with this man here, right now, hand in hand, with bashful smiles. Those familiar butterflies stir when he looks at you.

Like clockwork, Sanji invites you back to his place. You usually decline his invitation (which he presents without fail) because you don’t want to get too attached too fast, but… you’ve decided that sentiment is futile. You’re already attached. Very attached. There’s no point in deluding yourself any longer, really. You’re madly in love with each other and it’s no secret.

“Would you like to come back to mine for a drink, gorgeous?”

You take a second to study him. He does look fantastic, so put together and well-kept, and he’s been so sweet with you. You like him too much to decline.

“I’d love to.”

The ride back home is quiet—you’re comfortable enough with Sanji to sit in silence for periods of time. It’s peaceful, and it feels like you’ve known each other for years. He reaches a hand over and sets it on your thigh, giving you a soft squeeze.

Before you know it, you’re in Sanji’s apartment again. You’ve been here a handful of times. He’s made you dinners and lunches, you’ve watched shows together and cuddled on the couch. But tonight, you feel something in the air. Maybe tonight is the night that you go all the way with him, finally.

When you’re settled on the couch, he offers you a glass of wine or a cocktail. He caters to you like you’re royalty. An interesting irony.

“Would you like a pair of sweats and a hoodie, darling?” He asks after he’s fixed you your drink. You smile at him and respond in the affirmative—the stuffy, cute outfit you’ve been wearing is getting on your nerves, and it’s going to feel so much better to wear his clothes. It always does.

When you change into his clothes and return to the living room, Sanji’s face goes crimson again. He’s only seen you in his clothes a handful of times before and it makes him feel things. His heart and stomach are doing flips and his eyes are practically turning into hearts. He’s adorable.

“Would you like to watch something together, gorgeous? Maybe that show you were telling me about?” He asks as you both get comfy on the couch. Your bodies are pressed side-by-side.

“How about we just snuggle for a bit?” You propose, and he readily agrees.

“I could be persuaded to snuggle.” Sanji puts an arm around your waist and pulls you closer. “I can’t believe you spend time with me. I’m the luckiest man on earth.” He’s smiling and peppering your face with kisses.

“Sanjiiii,” you say, giggling. “Cut it out. It tickles.”

“I—don’t—ever—want—to—stop,” he kisses you somewhere between each word. Your cheeks, your neck, your hand, your forehead. Anywhere he can reach. “You’re stunning.”

His hand reaches for your chin and guides your lips to his. He’s preposterously suave. It’s like something out of a romance movie.

When he breaks the kiss, he says, “How did I land you? You’re just too beautifu—”

You cut him off by pressing your lips on his mid-word. You can tell he’s nervous and high-strung from dinner. But now that he’s impressed you like he wanted, he can calm down. He relaxes into your embrace after a second.

The kisses start soft, but they quickly increase in desperation. He wants you so bad that you can feel his yearning with each kiss. Ever the gentleman, he keeps his hands to his self, only placing one on your cheek and the other softly on your hip.

Maybe tonight is the night.

As you lock lips, you move his hand from where it rests on your hip downwards, so he’s touching your ass now through the sweatpants he lent you. Sanji timidly grabs a handful. He’s being gentle and shy, but you suspect that he’s in agony with desire.

This is a moment he’s dreamed about for around a year at this point. This night is about to be filled with moments that he’s been dreaming of.

You move his other hand from your cheek to your chest—his hands do as they please, petting and kneading you through the fabric of his clothes. After a few moments of Sanji’s hands getting their fill, they trail to your waist and he maneuvers you backwards, guiding you to lay on the couch while he perches over you.

You’re on your back now and he’s braced over you, with one hand next to your head and the other placed on your waist. He slides a knee between your legs, pressing it up between your legs, leaving it to rest there. Who knew this chef had it in him.

As you continue to lock lips, the pleasure from his knee grazing your core starts to make heat bloom between your legs.

You start to grind onto his knee slightly, and when your quiet sounds of pleasure seep out of your lips and into Sanji’s mouth, your hand finds his hard bulge. You caress him gently and pulls your lips from his.

“I want you, Sanji,” you murmur, and he pauses his wandering hands. He wants to ravage you totally, to have his way with you and make you reel in ecstasy, but he needs to check on you first.

“Wait, wait, my love, are you sure?” He whispers, softly placing a hand over yours, keeping it still. “Are you absolutely sure you want to go farther?”

“Mmmhmm,” you look at him with pleading eyes and he almost melts on the spot. “I’m sure, Sanji.”

“Then let’s get more comfortable,” he says. “Want to go to my room?”

You agree, and within moments you’re in Sanji’s bed under the covers. The bed is big and plushy, the sheets are soft, and the lighting is low and warm. He wastes no time pulling off his shirt and pants as he slides under the sheets.

You do the same, pulling off the clothes he so nicely lent you. You’re in your underwear now, and he’s in his, and he’s looking at you like you’re a piece of art. He’s wondering if he should pinch himself—is this a dream?

Not only does he get to spend time with you, the person he loves, but he also gets to see you and touch you? He’s thanking his lucky stars. If he knew many months ago that this would be his future, he wouldn’t have believed it.

Sanji pulls you to him and your chests are pressing together. He brings his lips to your neck and kisses a trail down to your collarbone.

“What did I ever do to get so lucky?” He asks again before he presses his lips on yours. His skin is warm, and his hands are rough. But the rest of him is soft—especially his hair, which your fingers weave their way through.

You throw a thigh over his hip and draw him closer. You realize that he’s hard, pressing on your core through the fabric of your underwear. While he kisses you he starts to slowly, barely rock his hips into you.

Sanji’s strong hands wander to grab rough handfuls of your ass. He uses his grip on your skin to press your body closer to his, and at the same time, he grinds harder into you. Heat is starting to build at the base of his spine—he can feel his lust slipping out. He’s about to lose his composure.

You suspected that Sanji would have some skills but he’s sinfully good in bed so far and you’re not even naked yet. Just the way he rolls his hips is mesmerizing. His kissing technique leaves nothing to be desired.

You have a feeling that he could do this for hours. But he’s not going to make any first moves here, no matter how crazed and desirous he feels. You’ve already talked about what this moment would look like, after all. Sanji told you a while ago that if and when you had sex for the first time, he wanted you to take the lead. He hates the idea of doing anything to you that makes you even the least bit uncomfortable or pressured.

Knowing this, you extricate yourself from him and remove your bra. He helps you shimmy out of your panties. Then you place your hands on him and drag your fingers downwards, conjuring a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Your fingertips pass over his broad chest, his toned and hard abs, and his dark happy trail. They reach the waistband of his boxers and slide underneath.

When your fingers touch his bare skin and wrap around his erection, his breath hitches and he goes completely still. All of his senses are focused on how soft your hand feels on his aching length and how leisurely you start to stroke him.

“Ah,” he lets out a sound that’s somewhere between a whine and a groan. “That f-feels so good, gorgeous.”

You hum in response and bring your other hand to the waistband of his underwear, pulling it down so his erection springs all the way out. Bringing both hands to his shaft now, you stroke him, slowly twisting your wrists.

His shaft is thick and long—the perfect size. You can tell it’s going to feel like a nice good stretch when he finally nestles himself inside you. If he’s not careful it might be a bit painful. He’s quite well endowed.

Minutes pass like seconds and precum starts to weep from his head, trickling down your fingers. He’s squirming slightly. Every twist of your wrists around his throbbing length elicits a delightful, lewd noise from him.

“Fuucck,” he whines softly, “if you keep it up I’m gonna—gonna cum.”

 “Well, we wouldn’t want that yet, would we?” You offer him a coy smile and stop moving.  

Sanji kisses you in short, passionate bursts. After a second, he makes a proposition.

“How about I go down on you?”

“Mmmm. I’ll allow it. I heard you’re quite talented.” You smile, referencing a conversation the pair of you had many months ago. Sanji cracks a grin, and you giggle.

“Let’s hope I wasn’t overselling myself, huh?”

You lay back on the pillows. Sanji gets on top of you, situating himself between your wide-spread legs—he starts to leave a trail of kisses from the hollow of your throat over your sternum and across your belly button. His lips keep moving lower—when he reaches the space where your thighs meet, he pulls one of your thighs up slightly. He holds it up effortlessly, kissing from behind your knee inwards and upwards towards your core. His lips stop right before they get to the place you crave them the most.

Sanji does the same with your other thigh, lifting it up and kissing the inside until he’s painfully close to your sensitive spots.

After teasing your thighs with kisses, Sanji finally touches you where you’ve been waiting for. He brings his fingers to your already sticky core. When his flesh meets yours, you gasp. He spreads you apart just barely, giving himself full access to your clit.

He wets his lips and places a soft, delicate kiss right on top of your sensitive bud of nerves. It’s a slow kiss, one that’s so gentle that it leaves you wanting more. When he goes in for a second kiss he uses a bit of tongue this time, just barely swirling the tip of his tongue in a circle. It sends a zap of pleasure through your body—your toes curl and you inhale sharply.

Sanji spends a few minutes doing this. He kisses your clit, alternating between using tongue and no tongue, and when your thighs spread wider and you begin to shake just the tiniest amount, he places a long lick from below your folds all the way upwards, ending with your clit. He dips his tongue in slightly, tasting you and relishing your scent, noises, and movements.

Your hands wander into his hair and he holds back a smile. He needs to focus on making you feel good. He knows he’s doing that right now, but he wants to make you feel even better. He’d love to hear you begging for more.

“S-sanji,” you murmur, your tone bathed in lust and oozing with need. You don’t say anything other than his name, but he knows what you mean.

His tongue and lips move lower—he presses his tongue into you slowly and it feels otherworldly. He brings it out and back in again, going as deep as he can. One of his hands rests on your thigh, pushing it down so he can have better access.

He relishes the weight of your fingers in his hair and your shallow, rapid breaths. This is heaven. He wishes he could freeze this moment and live in it forever.

As more arousal seeps out of you, Sanji pushes his ring finger into you slowly. He hooks it, delicately pressing you in all the right spots. While his finger explores, he keeps placing kisses on your clit. After a few moments, when you’ve adjusted to his finger, he presses another one into you.

Sanji’s cock is weeping against the covers as he eats you out and fingers you. His hips press into the sheets, humping against the fabric slightly. He can’t hold himself back.

His eyes snap upwards and meet yours. You’re staring down at him, gazing at where his pretty lips meet your flesh. When he looks up at you, he sees how glossy and half-lidded your eyes are. His heart patters and threatens to stop. He takes a mental screenshot.

Sanji’s fingers search for a certain spot inside of you—a spongy, gooey one. When he thinks he’s found it, he presses it slightly. Your thighs shake, your back arches off the sheets, and your toes curl again.

“Mmmppphhhh, Sanji, fuck,” you moan and he hums in response.

The slurping noises that he’s making are paired with muted squelching noises from where his tongue works on your heat and his fingers caress you inside. You’re almost at your limit.

He pulls his lips away and his fingers stop moving. “Do you want to cum, princess? Or do you want to wait?”

He’s so polite even when he’s feral. It’s heart melting.

Your brain is short circuiting. You do want to cum. You feel too good to ignore that crazy desire. But you also know that waiting and edging yourself a little bit would result in a better orgasm overall. But who’s to say that you can’t cum multiple times?

Sanji can see you check out mentally while you have this inner conversation with himself. A couple seconds pass. It’s hard to think straight while his fingers are inside of you, while his lips are poised so closely…

While you attempt to think it over, Sanji presses a kiss on your clit to get your attention. You whimper and respond, “I can’t make up my mind.” Your face looks tortured and it’s making his heart do flips.

“Just let me make you feel good,” he says, voice warm and comforting. You nod, closing your eyes, and he reaches under you to pull you even closer to his face.

Sanji draws his fingers out of you slowly and then presses his lips back to your entrance, probing his tongue against your hot arousal. Your hips buck inadvertently, and the movement presses his tongue deeper into you. Lost in pleasure already, you pull on his hair so hard that it hurts him (in the best way).

Sanji’s technique is mind blowing. You lose track of where his tongue and lips and fingers end and where your skin begins. All you know is that the space between your legs feels good, and hot, and sloppy, and buzzing, and throbbing, and Sanji’s there.

He can tell you’re close after a little while, can feel you writhing against his eager tongue as depraved sounds trickle out of you.

After fucking you with his tongue and playing with your clit, Sanji slides a finger into you to caress and pet your g-spot as he lavishes your clit with the rest of his attention. It’s mind-numbingly good and brings you to orgasm in seconds.

“S-s-sanji, I—fuck, fuck,” you whine at him and moan his name through your orgasm. The greedy slurping sounds that ring in the room are filthy and loud. While you cum you pull him (by his hair) as close as he can get to your core. Sanji licks you clean, savoring every last drop of the pleasure he coaxed out of you.

You’re in a daze, riding out the ripples of ecstasy from your orgasm as he moves upwards, climbing over you, to pull you into a tender kiss.

He’s prepared to leave it there—he doesn’t want to push anything further. He made you cum and that’s his dream come true. But even though you just came, you feel a burning, carnal desire for more. More of Sanji’s skin on yours, more of his hips moving, more of his soft hair in your hands, more everything.

“Sanji,” you mutter and his ears perk up. “Wanna do more.” It’s both a statement and a question.

“Are you sure, gorgeous?” He looks worried for a second. He doesn’t want to push you too far. But when he sees how strongly you nod your head yes, how blown out your pupils and lidded your eyes are in lust, he lets go of all apprehension.

“How about you sit up, pretty?” He asks, and you do as he says. Sanji sits up too, and he maneuvers you so you’re straddling him, chests pressed together. Your arms are thrown over his shoulders, you wrap your legs around him, and your lips come to meet his neck—he smells manly, musky, and faintly of cologne. His heart is beating so fast you can feel it in your chest.

Your head is still floating from your orgasm moments ago, but you have enough sense to lift up slightly, positioning yourself over his erection.

“Please, darling,” he whispers, feeling your hot breath on his neck.

While you place kisses on his neck, you sink down onto his length, slowly and cautiously. It’s a delicious feeling of being spread open—your body conforms to his girth and accommodates his (many) inches. The stretch feels amazing somehow, not painful like you were worried about.

When he’s fully inside of you the wiry ring of hair at the base of his shaft meets with your skin and he lets out a quiet groan.

“F-fuuhhhckkk.”

You sit like this for a second—his arms come to wrap around your waist and your walls throb around him. He’s trying to be patient, trying to fully appreciate this moment and etch each sensation in his mind. But his body is going into overdrive. His patience wears thin and disappears.

Sanji presses his hips upwards slightly, eliciting a gasp from you that makes his heart flutter. He does it again and the leaking tip of his shaft brushes that spongey spot inside of you just right.

“Ah, Sanji, fuck that feels good,” you whimper, speaking into the crook of his neck.

He does it again, harder this time. Each thrust of his hips conjures what feel like fireworks of pleasure. While your eyes are squeezed shut and your mouth hangs open in absent concentration, each press of his hips makes pretty colors erupt behind your eyes. Every burst of pleasure is red, white, purple, dazzlingly distracting.

His hands creep from your waist to your ass, then lower, to cup your thighs underneath and you’re reminded that this is a very real moment. He begins to slowly pull you up his length and press you back down, manipulating your movements on his shaft in a way that makes your eyes roll back in your head and your moans increase in desperation.

“Fuck, you’re—you’re perfect,” Sanji forces the words out between ragged breaths and grunts. “Perfect for me.”

Sanji is getting dangerously close to orgasm. He doesn’t know what to do—should he go slower now? Edge himself? Would you prefer he pulled out and took care of his own business?

As Sanji’s mind races for a second, you mutter something into his neck that makes him feel like his heart is going to stop.

“Inside.”

He pauses.

“What?”

“I said—ah—I said inside.”

Sanji gets the message. And while you’ve been explicit, he has to check. He’s just a gentleman through and through.

“Are you absolutely sure, beautiful?”

You nod again and lick a soft stripe up his neck. Sanji stifles a groan. His voice is hoarse, and his groans are punctuated by raspy breaths that go straight to your ear (and right between your legs).

When he starts to move again, Sanji finds a measured pace that shifts up a notch every few thrusts. The speed grows and he’s using all strength and concentration to make you feel as good as possible.

Your moans are so guttural that they almost sound like sobs. Each one goads on Sanji’s pace—and all the while, he’s actively conscious of the fact that he’s having sex with you, the person he loves, the person he’s loved for many months, the person he’s fantasized about being close with in every way.

If you could focus enough to get a good look at him you’d see that his cheeks are ruddy and his hair is plastered around the temples with sweat. He looks like a mess, and damn, it suits him.

In your daze, you’re approaching orgasm. You want him to cum, too, of course. You have an idea of something that might push him over the edge.

Your lips trail from his neck upwards, finding his earlobe. When you suck on it softly, Sanji pauses almost imperceptibly. He’s holding on for dear life. He’s close to orgasm, resisting it as much as he can so he can relish this moment for as long as physically possible.

But when you bite down on his earlobe, just enough to cause pain, Sanji crumbles. His thrusts turn haphazard and frantic. He loses himself in pleasure. Each gravelly moan that tumbles out of his mouth is followed by a whimper.

He cums when you bite down again. And while he cums, you whisper his name into his ear in the filthiest tone you can manage. It’s a tone that’s far more erotic than any you employed with him on the past. It’s a sincere one, one from the heart (and elsewhere), totally anchored in the reciprocal and yearning desire of the present moment.

Sanji comes apart and splits at the seams. As his arms encircle and pull you tighter, he rocks up one last time then, per your request, he orgasms inside of you. He moans your name through his orgasm, much like you did for him, and you know that he’s done this many times before. Your name is familiar and comfortable in his mouth.

The difference now is that (among other things) his words are met with a pair of ears other than his own. His moans are caused by your real warmth, flesh, and pleasure, too. It’s more intense than he could have imagined. He’s seeing stars. He buries his face in the crook of your neck while he orgasms, shuddering breaths while he embraces you so tight that it’s almost painful.

After many moments of labored, recovering breaths and soft nuzzles into each other’s skin, Sanji gingerly pulls out of you. He lifts you and sets you on your back on the bed. You’re coming back to reality slowly but surely. He props himself next to you and brings a hand to pet your hair.

“That was spectacular. You’re perfect, my love.”

“Nobody’s perfect,” you roll your eyes jokingly.

“Mmmm. Agree to disagree, gorgeous. C’mere.” Sanji kisses you softly once, cupping your face with both hands. When he pulls away, he seems to stiffen a bit. He offers a smile—did that look a little reserved, or are you overthinking things?—puts on his boxers, and goes to the bathroom to get you a towel.

The thought that just flitted through Sanji’s mind making him stiffen up isn’t a kind one. Frequently these sorts of thoughts weasel their way into his mind. This one just reminded him to not be 'too much'. Don’t be too overbearing. Don’t scare her away. Don’t suffocate her with your affection. What if she doesn’t want it? What if it’s too much for her?

Sanji reflects as he walks to grab you a towel. He’s been holding back his love for you for months. Ever since you first talked on the phone, he knew that he loved you. It has been many long months since then. And through all these long months, he’s tried to keep the visceral strength of his emotions at bay.

Now that Sanji knows you in real life, now that he’s started seeing you, now that the feelings are (supposedly) mutual, the love inside of him has only grown. But it hasn’t grown proportionately to what he allows to escape. In other words, as much as his love for you grows, he tries to reign it in for fear of being too much for you.

Sanji has been counting down the hours, minutes, and seconds until you’re comfortable enough with him for him to be fully himself. Because of his fear of scaring you away, he’s been trying to practice restraint. He’s been trying to present a version of himself that doesn’t seem too eager, too lovey-dovey and too obsessed. But every time he sees you, he feels like he’s going to burst at the seams.

As he walks through his apartment to grab you a towel, thoughts of self-doubt and caution assail his mind.

Could someone like you really love someone like him, a lonely, desperate loser who only works and smokes? It doesn't make any sense.

Will you get sick of him if he lets loose the strong feelings inside? If you get sick of him, he doesn't know how he'd cope with the heartbreak.

If he’s open with you, if he pets your hair like he wants to, holds your hand, stares longingly into your eyes and pulls you closer—if he does all of that and more, would it be too much for you? Will too much put you off, chase you away, or scare you?

Concern is written on his face plain as day, as much as he tries to hide it. You’ve noticed it a couple of times. On a few of the dates you’ve been on you've seen it peek through. And you saw it just now, when he stiffened up a bit.

You ponder for a moment on how to ease the tension you feel from him. How best can you offer this man some solace, in a sincere way that doesn’t have a trace of the artificial sugar through which you used to have to filter your words?

A couple seconds pass and you can hear Sanji padding softly back into his bedroom with a plush, white towel.

You take a second to admire his frame as he approaches the bed. He’s slender and toned. His hair is ruffled up and his cheeks are still rosy from the effort moments ago.

Your eyes sweep from his feet to his legs and thighs—they’re thick and hairy. Upwards more and you admire his pretty happy trail that snakes up his abdomen and thins out before it reaches his belly button.

Your eyes wander farther and you see his pecs—trimmed and defined—the same goes for his biceps, shoulders…

Sanji can tell you’re giving him a good look and he flushes crimson. The blush is enough to avert the negative thoughts mulling in his head.

As your eyes flick up to meet his, he smiles, but you can still make out some restraint—this faint tension from Sanji is a tension you can only surmise comes from his insecurity. You know him too well.

“Here you go, beautiful,” he says, rounding the bed to your side. He gets ready to kiss you again and help you get a bit tidier.

“Sanji,” your tone is different when you speak. It’s soft and firm at the same time. He pauses, heart stopping for a second.

Are you about to tell him you don’t want him? His mind races to the worst-case scenario.

“Yes?”

“Don’t forget that I’m head over heels for you, okay?” You reach out a hand to him. “You don’t have to hold anything back with me.”

He exhales and sits down on the bed next to you, sliding his fingers through yours.

“Fuck. Am I being that obvious?” He furrows his brow and lets out a nervous chuckle.

“Mmmm, only a little bit. Are you doing okay?”

He brings a hand to your cheek again. “I’m doing wonderfully. I’m just… I’m trying not to drown you in affection. I like you so much and I feel so strongly about you that I get a little worried about scaring you away.”

“Sanji.” You frown. It hurts to hear him say something like that. Maybe you haven’t been vocal enough with him about how you feel. “You’re not going to drown me in affection. I told you I’m head over heels for you. I mean it. I’m here for good and I love you.”

“You promise?” He squeezes your hand, and a smile takes over his lips.

“I promise. You're not going to scare me away. So no more holding back, okay?”

Sanji nods, relieved, and leans in for another kiss. He goes in with the intention of giving you a good one. But it turns into multiple.

His kisses feel different this time. Maybe they feel more honest. Softer. Sweeter. Something has changed.

When he pulls away from you, he keeps his face close. He’s so pretty up close like this—his eyes are stunning. His irises are a complicated color that you can’t quite place, his cheeks are flushed, and his hair is pushed back. His smile is charming and makes your stomach do flips.

“Now that I’m not holding back anymore,” he begins, “do you know how precious you are to me? How much I cherish you?”

“A lot?” You venture a guess, and your grin makes Sanji’s heart trip.

“A lot is an understatement. I can’t put it into words. I just want to shower you in affection, cook for you all day, and treat you like you deserve. I think about you a, uh, probably a concerning amount. I’m enamored.”

You thread you fingers through his hair again, pushing it back to expose his forehead some more, admiring those pretty cheekbones, and those swirly eyebrows.

“Well, I feel the same, Sanji. I’m glad you finally worked up the nerve to ask me out. You say that I’m perfect, but I think that’s you. Do you know how much I cherish you, Sanji?” You bring your entwined hands to your lips, kissing Sanji’s softly. "A lot. So don't ever hold back with me."

“Hearing that makes me happier than I can put into words, gorgeous.”

After exchanging more kisses and sickeningly sweet words, you put Sanji’s comfy clothes back on. You move to the living room again and he fixes you anything you please. You show him that show you love a lot, and he watches intently, laser-focused because he believes your taste in media (and other things) reflects some part of your character. As he watches, he wonders, what does she like best about this? What speaks to her about this?

His ardent admiration for you seeps out of him in a steady stream now. You soothed his heart and applied a salve of words and kisses. He’s happy to his core, with every fiber of his being, a pure sort of joy that he hasn’t felt in many, many years. He savors you as much as he possibly can and never stops counting his lucky stars, per say.

Maybe his lovesickness and insecurity will sneak up again on him. Most likely. He knows that next time that crushing wave comes for him—the wave of self-doubt and disgust—you’ll reassure him wholeheartedly. He won’t scare you away, he can’t, and he will never be too much for you.

< previous part | masterlist >

a/n: yay for more writing to laufey! i hope you liked this :) i feel very intense things about this man! :0 also this really is a labor of love it took me so long omfg.

[jinwoosbabyboo]

Onychinus Personal Chef II

ꩇׁׅ݊ You became Sylus' personal chef based off of pure chance. He's picky, he's annoying and he is just so damn fine. ꩇׁׅ݊ fem!reader, sylus x personal-chef!reader pt 2 of a 4 part series

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Your Client Sylus who has Mephisto deliver you menus of what he wants to eat.

Your Client Sylus who always finds a way to hang out in the kitchen while you’re prepping/cooking and give you unsolicited advice “You should sear that side a little longer” “You should let the trained chef do her job”

Your Client Sylus who has you ‘taste’ his food with him because he just wants to make sure you eat and he secretly enjoys feeding you "Why do you always have me take the first bite?" "Just making sure you didn't poison it" "Why would I- okay princess"

Your Client Sylus who purposely gives you complicated orders so that he can listen to the recordings of you complaining to Mephisto. “Who eats smothered lamb chops as a snack? Does he realize I have to marinate these for a day for them to be perfect? He's getting two hours and he can get over it should've requested these for tomorrow” “I don’t get paid enough for this … well I do actually … more than enough … but I’m gonna complain anyway” He also finds himself listening to your singing and humming while you cook “Your talents were being wasted miss chef” He mumbled to himself with a smirk

Your Client Sylus who teases you when you can’t reach something in his kitchen that was built specifically for his height and wingspan “Would you like some help?” “No I want a damn … I mean I would like a step stool so I don’t have to keep calling you and the boys for help” “If it’s you I don’t mind helping”

Your Client Sylus who acts like he’s annoyed when you make him help with prep while he’s loitering in the kitchen “Are you telling me what to do?” “Do you want to eat tonight?” Luke and Kieran snicker in the background and instantly go quiet when Sylus shoots them a glare.

Your Client Sylus who hates when you call yourself Onychinus' Personal Chef and is very vocal about it. "You're my personal chef" "I also cook for the twins" "I'm your boss sweetie" "My boss who is the leader of Onychinus"

Your Client Sylus who you end up bickering with like an old married couple after only six months of working for him. You love the days when he doesn’t give you a menu and you get to cook whatever you want “Sylus do you want to eat lunch?” “What are my options chef?” “Yes or fucking no” “……Yes” Who’s really in charge here? It’s always been you.

Your Client Sylus who becomes more forward with his flirting when you aren’t catching his hints. He wants you to be honest with yourself and give in to him yet you continue to keep him at an arms length. You convince yourself that he’s just a calculated man who wants some kind of excitement in his life. He just enjoys the games. At least that’s what you tell yourself.

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ꩇׁׅ݊ taglist ; @mangooes @mourning-into-dancing

[seospicybin]

SEOSPICY PREVIEW.

BAD.

Han x reader. (s,a)

Synopsis: You’ve always known Han Jisung is trouble—the kind of guy who flirts like it’s breathing and disappears like smoke when things get real. But the more time you spend with him, the deeper you fall—despite knowing he’ll probably break your heart. Again and again.

Preview under cut!

...

Sunlight filtered softly through the curtains, warming your bare shoulders, gently waking you up from your slumber. You stirred, stretching out a hand to the other side of the bed—only to find it empty and cold.

Of course. You muttered in your head as you heart sank a little. You let out a quiet sigh and rolled onto your back, staring at the ceiling. You should’ve known better. One night, a little charm, and then gone by morning. Classic. Still, you couldn’t help the flicker of disappointment curling in your chest. Because, as much as you tried not to… you liked Han.

And then—there it was. The unmistakable clatter of something in the kitchen, followed by a low curse.

Pulling on whatever piece of clothing from the floor, you padded out of the bedroom and found him in the kitchen.

Han was shirtless and under the pale sunlight, his tattoos were contrast to his honey skin, his hair messily tousled, standing in front of your coffee machine with a deep frown on his face. His fingers were poking at buttons like they personally offended him. He looked up the moment he sensed you and broke into a sheepish grin.

“Morning. So, I may or may not be losing a fight to this highly complicated coffee machine.”

You squinted, walking closer to assess the issue. “Did you… plug it in?”

He paused and then he checked the back of the machine, finding the unplugged cord hanging limply beside the counter.

“Ah.” He scratched the back of his head while sheepishly chuckling. “That explains the lack of coffee. I was just about to blame capitalism.”

You chuckled despite yourself, shaking your head as you plugged it in. “Are you always this charming in the morning?”

“24/7 actually,” he said, watching you with that same lopsided grin.

As the coffee started brewing, the warm scent beginning to fill the kitchen, you turned toward the fridge. “I’ll make breakfast.”

Han leaned back against the counter, arms crossed over his bare chest as he watched you. “Are you sure? I mean, I was planning to impress you with my gourmet bowl of cereal.”

You rolled your eyes and reached for the eggs. “How about you handle coffee duty, Chef Cereal and I’ll take care of the rest?”

“Copy that, Kitchen Commando,” he said, reaching for two mugs with a mock salute.

The two of you moved around each other in quiet rhythm, filling the kitchen with soft clinks and sizzling sounds. No awkwardness. No morning-after weirdness. Just warmth, quiet laughter, and the smell of coffee and toast. It was… easy, strangely easy and you couldn’t remember the last time something felt like that.

The two of you sat across from each other at the small kitchen table, plates filled with scrambled eggs and toast between you, steaming mugs in hand. He took a bite, chewed, and gave you an impressed nod. You held the urge to chuckle at the way his cheeks puffed as he chewed on his food.

“Okay, chef,” he said with a grin. “This is actually good. I had low expectations after seeing your coffee machine situation.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You mean your coffee machine situation?”

He pointed at you with his fork. “Fair.”

Between bites and sips of coffee, the conversation drifted into something lighter. Easier.

“So, what do you do?” you asked, wiping a crumb off your lip.

Han leaned back a little, stretching his legs under the table. “I work at a music studio. Mostly sound engineering. Some producing. It depends on who’s asking.” He smirked. “But yeah, I help make people sound better than they actually are.”

You laughed. “Do you enjoy it?”

“Yeah,” he said, nodding thoughtfully. “Long hours, weird clients, but music’s kind of the only thing I ever wanted to do. Even when I was a kid.”

There was a flicker of something sincere in his eyes, and for a moment, it made your chest warm.

He tilted his head. “What about you?”

“I co-own a vintage clothing store with a friend,” you said, reaching for your coffee. “We do a lot of curating, reselling, sometimes minor alterations. I’m there most days.”

Han perked up. “Wait, so you’re telling me I know someone with taste and access to cool jackets?”

You smirked. “Maybe.”

“Do I get a discount if I come shop there?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

“That depends. Do you plan on plugging in the coffee machine next time?”

He let out a laugh and dabbed his mouth with a napkin. “Harsh but fair.”

The rest of the morning passed in a blur of coffee refills, inside jokes already forming, and conversations that slipped from playful to surprisingly thoughtful with ease. It felt oddly natural—like the two of you had known each other long enough to tease and jab without hesitation.

And maybe that was what made it so dangerous.Han, with his charm and his grin and his casual warmth—he was the kind of trouble that came wrapped in comfort.

When it was time for him to go, you followed him to the front door, your sweater sleeves pulled down over your hands, fingers gripping the hem to keep yourself from reaching for him. He crouched slightly to put on his sneakers, and a strange heaviness pressed on your chest—the kind that came with goodbyes, especially the ones you didn’t want to say out loud.

This is it, you thought. A fun night. A morning after. And then he disappears like they always do.

But just as he finished lacing up his shoes, Han straightened and turned to face you again. His eyes flicked across your features, lingering in that way that made it feel like he was seeing more of you than he should.

“So,” he said slowly, almost cautiously, “can I see you again?”

Your breath hitched—just for a second. “Well... You know where to find me.”

A smirk crept onto his lips, cocky and triumphant, like he’d just won a game you didn’t realize you were playing. “That I do.”

For a moment, neither of you moved. The space between you stretched taut with something unspoken. His gaze dropped briefly to your lips, and when he stepped forward, it was deliberate.

Han reached up, his fingers gentle as they found your chin and tipped your head slightly toward him. He leaned in slowly—so slowly—and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. It wasn’t lustful or teasing this time. It was tender, like a promise.

When he pulled away, his voice was lower than before. “I’ll see you soon.”

You opened your mouth to respond, to say it back, but you barely got the words out before he leaned in again and kissed you deeper this time, stealing the air from your lungs. It left your head swimming, your hands balled into the fabric of your sweater to keep yourself from holding onto him. And then he stepped back, letting go of your chin with frustrating gentleness. You almost frowned at the absence of his touch but caught yourself, painting a smile on instead.

Han turned toward the door, opened it, and paused—just for a beat. His eyes found yours again, like he was trying to burn the image of you into memory, then he stepped out.

You stood frozen for a moment after the door shut, the silence of your apartment suddenly deafening, and without meaning to, you were already counting the seconds until you saw him again.

...

Full fic is available exclusively on my Patreon:

[prettygirl-gabi]

Well-Maintained By Love

Pairing: Natasha Cloud x Reader

Fandom: WNBA-New York Liberty

Summary: Public calls you spoiled—Natasha not with of that.

🏷️: @paigeshirleytemple , @cowboybueckers , @unknowgirlypop , @yailtsv , @nicebellee , @sitawita , @thatonesuschix , @vamptizm , @elalfywhore , @starfulani , @authentic-girl03 , @paxaz535 , @azziswrld , @jadasogay , @paigeluvvr , @melpthatsme , @lessi-lover , @courtsidewithlani , @elswhore , @italyyy , @lightsgore , @private-but-not-a-secret , @aubreygriffin , @issilovesherself , @graceeeeeesblog , @sayurireidotcom , @let-zizi-yap , @latenighttalkinqwp , @fairyblossomsav , @gabischeeseballs

I didn’t think a shopping haul could cause a digital riot.

It started as something innocent—just me and T laughing in the car—her driving, me the passengers princess, shopping bags in the back, the city lights blinking behind us as I showed off the honey-blonde crochet set I’d been eyeing for weeks.

We’d hit Zara, Nordstrom, Aritzia… and even made a late-night detour to this Black-owned candle shop I love because T said she wanted to “spoil her favorite scent.”

Then dinner. T paid. Like she always does. I tried to get the bill but she just looked at me with that smug, stupidly hot smirk and said, “You get dessert, I got us.” I rolled my eyes but melted all the same. It was just us—soft and safe and warm.

Until the comments rolled in the next morning.

“Y/N don’t even reach for the bill 💀”

“T paying for everything??? yeah she spoiling a high-maintenance princess lol”

“Gold digger energy, lowkey.”

“I wish Natasha was with grounded women.”

“She got T buying out stores and she don’t even work fr.”

It didn’t matter that I had a job. That I freelanced. That I budgeted. That I paid my own bills—I wanted to pay rent but T said not a chance once I officially moved in. Or that I took care of my grandparents like they once took care of me.

People saw a few shopping bags and a girl in acrylics and assumed I was living off someone else’s dime.

It wasn’t just a shopping haul. It became a referendum on my worth.

It festered. All week.

Every time we went to do anything—T tried to pay for groceries, I blocked the card reader with my body.

She reached for the Uber app? I already had Lyft open.

Dinner? “I’ll cook,” I told her. “We don’t need to eat out all the time.”

She looked at me sideways every time, like I was glitching in real time.

“You okay?” she finally asked on Friday when we were curled up on the couch watching Snowfall, me unusually quiet.

I nodded. “Just tired.”

She paused the show. I winced.

“No, you’re not. You’ve been dodging my card like it’s cursed all week.”

I tucked my knees up under my chin. “I just… I don’t want people thinking I’m with you for what you can buy me.”

T frowned. “Why would anyone think that?”

I unlocked my phone, scrolled, and shoved it at her. She didn’t even flinch. Just read. Blinked. Exhaled.

“That’s what this is about?”

“It’s not just that. I know you love me. And I love you, too. But the way people are talking? Like I’m some bougie leech or—”

“Stop.”

She didn’t say it mean. Just firm. Unmoving.

“I’m serious, T—”

“I know. That’s why I’m stopping you.” She turned toward me, both her hands finding my thighs. “You think I don’t see how hard you work? The nights you stay up editing content for clients, running errands for your grandparents, baking for your friends, picking out my vitamins like a personal chef-nutritionist hybrid?”

I bit my lip. “I just don’t want you thinking I expect you to—”

“Baby, I like paying for you.”

That made me shut up.

“I love paying for you. You know why?” Her hands slid to my waist. “Because I love you. And I live for that smile on your face when I get you something you’ve been saving up for. You light up like a little kid. You squeal. You show me your Pinterest boards. You do happy dances.”

I tried not to laugh. “I don’t squeal.”

“You squeal, baby. Don’t lie.”

“…Maybe a little.”

T leaned her forehead against mine. “You are not high maintenance. You are well-maintained. By me. Your loving-ass fiancée.”

My throat tightened.

“I see how you handle your own, and then some,” she whispered. “This? The money? The clothes? The food? That’s just my way of saying thank you. For the love. For the laughs. For being soft in a world that tries to harden you.”

A tear slipped down my cheek. “You’re gonna make me cry.”

She kissed it away. “Let ‘em talk. They don’t know you.”

The next morning, Natasha went live.

I didn’t even know until I came back from the kitchen with her coffee and my latte and heard her saying, “I wasn’t gonna say anything, but let’s clear the air.”

Her phone was propped up on the coffee table.

She looked… calm. But sharp. Like she wasn’t here to play.

“So there’s been a lot of noise lately about my girl. About how she’s ‘spoiled’ or ‘high maintenance’ or ‘a gold digger’ because I paid for a few shopping bags and a meal.”

She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Let me make something real clear: Y/N’s been working since she was fifteen. Now she’s taking care of her grandparents. They taught her life lessons before she even knew how to take care of herself. Has a job. A savings account. An emergency fund and a backup plan.”

I stood frozen with the drinks in hand.

“She’s not high maintenance. She’s high value. And I maintain her. Because that’s my job. That’s my privilege.”

My heart stopped.

“She’s not spoiled. She’s loved. And if loving her loudly makes y’all uncomfortable, that says more about your relationships than it does ours.”

She leaned in closer. “So next time you want to call her out of her name, remember she earned every soft thing I give her. Every brunch. Every candle. Every pair of boots. And if that makes me a simp?”

She shrugged. “Then I’m the proudest one alive.”

I set the mugs down and climbed into her lap mid-live, wrapping my arms around her neck.

She grinned, pressing a kiss to my cheek as the comments blew up.

“Whewwww Natasha said what she said.”

“Relationship goals FR.”

“Y/N not spoiled, she’s cherished 🥺”

“And I oop—let me go apologize to my girl.”

I whispered, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to.” Her voice softened. “You protect me all the time. It’s my turn.”

That night, she tucked me in like I was made of porcelain. Rubbed my back while we listened to whatever was on TV. Let me cry a little, because being misunderstood when you’re soft-hearted is its own kind of hurt.

But in her arms, I didn’t feel like a stereotype.

I felt seen. Safe. Chosen.

“I still want to pay sometimes,” I whispered into her neck.

“And you can,” she whispered back. “But only if you let me spoil you too.”

“Deal.”

She chuckled. “You do squeal, though.”

“Shut up.”

But I smiled.

Because yeah—maybe I was spoiled.

But only by love. Only by her. And that? That was nothing to be ashamed of.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

                 -Thank You For Reading!💚💙

                             -prettygirl-gabi✨️💗

[literaryvein-reblogs]

concepts related to different professions

Businessperson

abettor, adjutant, adviser/advisor, aid/aide, announcer, apprentice, archaeologist, assistant, auditor, authority, baker, barber, broker, businessperson, buyer, caretaker, cartoonist, chair, chef, client, colleague, conservator, consumer, correspondent, court, creator, curator, customer, dabbler, desk jockey, developer, drudge, employee, envoy, espionage, explorer, fellow, flier, flyer, fortuneteller, freshman, go-between, gourmet, guard, guru, hacker, hand, hawker, helper, hooker, inferior, informant or informer, inspector, interviewer, investigator, janitor, labor, liaison, messenger, moderator, monitor, navigator, newsman/woman, page, patron, picket, pioneer, poet, practitioner, prodigal, protégé, referee, representative, reviewer, rival, sailor, scout, seaman/woman, seller, shopper, speaker, spokesperson, spy, subordinate, tailor, traveler, virtuoso, wayfarer, writer

Educator

academic, adviser/advisor, alumnus/alumna, coach, conductor, disciplinarian, faculty, freshman, graduate, intellectual, learner, martinet, mastermind, monitor, practitioner, professor, rookie, savant, school, swami, trainer

Entertainer

acrobat, actress, aficionado, ballet dancer, character, comic, creator, director, fan, groupie, hero/heroine, humorist, inventor, luminary, magician, name, participant, personage/personality, player, protagonist, star, troubadour, virtuoso, zany

Financier

accountant, bean counter, broker, investor, spendthrift

Government officer

administrator, ambassador, authoritarian, autocracy, bureaucrat, consul, delegate, despot, diplomat, emir, empress, establishment, exile, fascist, figurehead, front runner, informant/informer, intermediary, leader, liaison, magistrate, master, mogul, mouthpiece, officer, oppressor, pacifist, patrol, personage/personality, police/police officer, prime minister, representative, snitch, spokesperson, tyrant, weasel

Legal practitioner

attorney, beneficiary, counsel, heir, judge, lawyer, officer, proponent, witness

Media person

commentator, journalist, newsman/woman, reporter, writer

Medical practitioner

analyst, druggist, nurse, patient, physician, researcher, therapist

Military person

combatant, conqueror, fighter, gladiator, lookout, militant, patrol, recruit, scout, seaman/woman, truant, warmonger, warrior

Politician

advocate, anarchist, apostle, arbitrator, conservative, dissident, extremist, firebrand, idealist, militant, mouthpiece, nonconformist, patron, picket, proponent, reactionary, sectarian

Religious person

acolyte, angel, atheist, chaplain, conformist, creator, deacon, doubter, dreamer, evangelism, father, genie, inventor, loner, minister, monk, pagan, pastor, priest, saint, skeptic, visionary, witch, wizard

NOTE

The above are concepts classified according to subject and usage. It not only helps writers and thinkers to organize their ideas but leads them from those very ideas to the words that can best express them.

It was, in part, created to turn an idea into a specific word. By linking together the main entries that share similar concepts, the index makes possible creative semantic connections between words in our language, stimulating thought and broadening vocabulary.

Source ⚜ Writing Basics & Refreshers ⚜ On Vocabulary

[nemesyaaa]

the bear fx show au's inspiration ft. cook chef!rafe.

— little headcanons post. a bit of smut and fluff.

warnings : +18 content. minors dni. heavy smoking. smut. age gap. food play. be aware of the warnings before reading. do not take this au seriously, its all fun.

Chef's attitude : ★☆☆☆☆ — Cooking skills ★★★★★

Anger issues : ★★★★★ — Sympathy ★★☆☆☆

Restaurant: ★★★★★ — Relationships ★★★☆☆

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

✮⋆˙ — Something about Chef!Rafe. Everyone knows him. His name. His restaurant. The five stars crowning His food. his bad reputation. Everyone knows how talented and good he is, everyone is giving him everyday something to blow up his ego. The journalists at his door before the opening. The following paparazzis trying to get a shot of his rude attitude. The clients at his tables waiting to be fed. The girls over his bed that he can't help but forget their name. The people wanting to know his secrets. He wasn't born to be the king but now, he's sitting right here on the throne, and everyone is kneeling. He knows how to cook, and does it better than any man. OBVIOUSLY, knife and fingers skilled with the finest and largest hands ever. They've been tattooed since he turned eighteen, on his knuckles and the back of his hands.

✮⋆˙ — Something about Cook chef!Rafe, he doesn't give a fuck about the messy and homeless look he gives, the way his growing mullet is turning wild and shady on the back of his neck, the way his big nose is always glowing with oil and his clothes always smell of food like he never washes them. He also doesn't bother about his bad shaved jaw, and his smoking-whiskey breath that always came hot and heavy. He's often badly dressed because the only thing he really cares about is his restaurant. He's wearing the apron like nobody, well-tied on his back, hiding his buff chest, hugging the fat of his tiddies, and tracing his bulk frame.

♨ — He's always smoking at his workplace. His kitchen, his rules. The first and last person who ever tried to step on his authority ended with a black eyes and busted lips which caused him to never speak again, and never to look at rafe again. Chef!Rafe who used to be so mocked and humiliated on the past to ever give a fuck again about what people think of him. something about this guy, don't piss him off. don't play with his nerves. he's already too fucking busy and tired to deal with anything.

♡ — But believe me, this man is cooking with the most insane passion ever, he's doing the greatest meals ever, master of post-sex snacks with his hookups. He deserves the five stars, the articles in the magazines, and all the hype about his restaurant.

✮⋆˙ — Cook chef!Rafe who is also known for his anger issues. Favorite subject of the media. Everyone knows he can't control himself and it's getting worse and worse each day. Violence and excess anger. No one can do it better than him, especially when he starts yelling at everyone. The kitchen is about to burn down when he starts. Everything is getting out of control and no one wants to stay, but it's even worse if someone makes the slightest movement. He loves taking his anger out on someone innocent because it's so much easier. He knows those terrified expressions so well when he turns into a storm. “ y'all want me to get worse ? y'all really trying to piss me off today ? what's that fuckin’ shit ? do that again and you're fired. ya know what, get your ass off my kitchen, you're already fired. ” and its only the beginning…“ don't fucking make me waste my time. you're cryin’ really ? gonna tell ya mama how bad i've been to you’ ? do you want me to give her a call ? is that the hot milf that would do a better job at sucking my dick than you at cooking for me ? ”

♨ — Cook chef!Rafe who smokes too much and not necessarily at the right time. He's literally using the fire of his cooking to light his cigarettes, ignoring willingly the danger of this action while everyone is scared.

✮⋆˙ — Cook chef!Rafe who wasn't ready for a disaster bimbo like you coming in his life. He used to fuck so much girls like you, all pretty and noisy, maybe one of them were your friends or your sisters. it's not like you were different from them.

Something about you is that you were always well-dressed, not to say barely dressed with your little outfits, walking around to show off and mostly, to be seen. You were the attraction. The moment you entered the restaurant, everyone was looking at you. You were looking for a place to sit, with your chihuahua over your arms.

Rafe, who was about to return to the kitchen, saw you for the first time. You felt so out of the place.

“ Sweet puppies are not allowed, sugar. ” he just said while resting his cigarette on the back of his ear, after brushing dirty hands over his apron, giving you something to look at.

" But, wh...”

“ Don't know the sweet puppy can talk. ” He teased.

You just realized.

“ That's not a way to talk, sir. ”

" And, so what, sugar ? Wanna call the boss to complain about him ? "

" Yes, let's do that. I wanna see the boss, right now. Can't believe such jerks like you working in his restaurant. ”

“ Fine, pretty sure he wants to hear all the bad things you want to say to him. "

But the minutes after you entered his office, door closed and locked, you were fucked against the window of his room, your naked body to be seen to the streets full of people, face and breasts smashed against the glass while he was pounding inside your cunt for straight hours. “ Mmh...fuck ! I'm sorry, i promise ! ” “ yea, you will be when we will have around thirty orgasms...not now” he shushed you by crashing your head even more with his big hand.

You could barely stand still, your legs were shaking too much, against his rough body. all inches were forced to your pussy, juices dripping over your insides. “ Oh you're gonna come ? how many more until this cunt is passing out for me, sugar ? How many more ? ” you were crying, cheeks glistening from tears and your smeared makeup. “ you're lucky, i could put a fucking baby inside you but think this pretty face want to be served. ”

you felt his fingers grabbing your chin, his gaze looking down your pathetic face before slamming back over the glass again with no caring, like you were just nothing.

After that, all he said was “ Wanna eat something ? ” “ Are you gonna cook something for me ? ” “ Baby, that's literally what I do for a living. ”

Discovering his food has changed you. You were surprised. The rumors weren't lying. He cooked wonderfully well. He specialized in refined, gourmet cuisine, quality dishes made with exceptional products.

✮⋆˙ — Cook chef!rafe who isn't the type to say thank you, or giggling at your compliments because he just knows how good it is. You're just feeding his ego, while he's feeding your tummy and heart. He's watching you eat, loving the bubble face you have everytime the taste is charming you. You were like a baby, his baby.

As his favorite bimbo disaster, you started to be a regular. But also his girl. He allows you to go into the kitchen, his safe place. So you are always there to annoy your man.

You're such a baby, always needy and wanting his attention. You're touching at everything, putting yourself in danger, yapping non stop about your days and friends, and Rafe is trying so hard to not tell you to shut up. His anger issues can't stand all your attitude. But he doesn't stop him from caring, he can cook, lead his crew and look after you. He's multitasking.

♨ — Cook Chef!Rafe who finds a way to tell you to shut up without making you cry by making you taste the food. “ How's the taste ? ” “ Feed me again. I love it. ” And he did it. Everytime you ask. “ Now, I wanna taste something else. Come here. ” “ You're such a pain in ass, ya know ? I think you can wait thirty minutes. ” “ Thirty minutes ? It feels like tomorrow ! I can't wait. ” “ I know, you can. ” Now, the tone isn't playful anymore. “ I'm going home. ” “ You're not making a single move. You’re stayin’ here. Try to move, even just an inch and i will make you regret it. ”

You froze. “ No tears allowed too. ” And he kisses you before going back to the shift. “ Keep that face pretty and shut for me. ”

SOMETIMES, you get his soft attitude toward you. you get it as a reward for your good attitude. you know which mood he's in from the moment he's at home.

♡ — If he's in a good mood, he's gonna leave you alone to cook in the kitchen, and serve you all the meals like the princess you are, and after, he's gonna eat you out, from the back. He's in need to taste you, to plush his tongue in your drenched hole. Large hands over your back while he's lapping to your cunt, nose rubbing against your clit and tickling the little bud. you've been so good and he suddenly wants to give you everything. his tongue raw and nasty, swirling through your walls as he holds his grip tightly on your thighs. He's getting deep, loving the sweet moans coming from your mouth. “ can't wait to fuck this sweet pussy…’s too good, you're too good. ”

A short break to look at your sopoy core, wet juices coating your parted lips and giving him the most perfect sight ever. He's got all the view of your hole dripping, watching his own work like a proud artist, before eating you back. “ gonna get you ready for me right now…how does it feel ? tell me since you can't keep that mouth close for a second” “ m-more…please ! ” “ am i not giving you enough sugar ? ” You giggle softly, letting the word slip over your mouth. “ Fuck me…I want you to fuck me.” “ And I'm hearing you baby, I'm gonna fuck you. ” “ Please, sir…” “ So now, you're being polite…that's progress…” “ Are you gonna fuck me or do you need my help, sir ? ” “ Think you're the only one who needs my help right now, do not act so cocky. ” “ Think you will be able to keep the pace, old man ? We can go slow, grandpa. I know it's not easy anymore for older men…” A small grin curved around his lips as he putted his dick against your entrance, teasing the glistening tip over your drenched parts, wanting nothing but to fuck you raw for your little attitude. “ I'm not that old. ” “ You could have born me. ” “ Oh baby, you wish. ”

✮⋆˙ — Cook chef!Rafe who can be so creative when he's in the mood by using you as a table for his meals. so that's why you always find yourself covered with honey, sushis, whipped cream, strawberries and cherries as he eating directly from your body. he's challenging you by dare you to not move but you always end up losing because his mouth on your skin feels so good, and the way his tongue is licking at the food but at yourself at the same time just giving you so much spasms.

♨ — Cook chef!Rafe who doesn't want you in the kitchen, literally a forbidden place for you because you're too much of a disaster. He can't really focus when you're around because you're too close to making something dangerous. “ Come on, I'm literally living here. you can't forbid me to come. "" I can't ? Then why are you standing miles away from the kitchen ? noisy for nothing, aren't you ? "" you're being mean. ” “You're too sensitive when you're hungry, do you know that ? ”

♡ — Something you can be sure of...the kitchen will always be clean. He's cooking but he's washing the dishes too. He can't cook if it's too messy or dirty. He's manic about it. but the rest of the house is for you to clean…

♨ — Cook chef! Rafe who's now handcuffs you every time you're at the kitchen on shift time to be sure you're going nowhere, and touching nothing. And duct tape your mouth with cellophane when you're yapping too much. He doesn't bother about the whispers of his crew.

♡— Cook chef!Rafe who's always taking his weekends to take you on vacations in your other countries. He's giving you the life you always dreamed of, spending money on every one of your needs. And he does love the feeling of having someone in his life.

thanks you for reading this messy headcanons, you're brave and loved !!! <333

[nichelink]

Barista+Customer: a All-Ages nichelink relationship/relationship dynamic where one person is the "barista" and one is the "customer."

this could be considered a subset of Personal Chef+Client. this may include, but is not limited to:

one or both of the people in the relationship being hyperfixated on coffee, coffeenatured, or some kind of coffee or tea related xenogender (such as these)

one or both of the people in the relationship being kin/introject/alterhuman/stel/etc from a coffee shop au

the customer having ARFID or another eating disorder and trusting the personal chef to help with preparing/entirely prepare their safe drink

the barista giving live drink prep instructions

roleplaying that the barista is preparing coffee for the customer, or playing this out in video games

non-rose/tertiary attraction/altereffectis attraction like sugaric, alimentary, amousse, etc

nichelink coining

tagging: @radiomogai | are there any general food/drink mogai/liom archivers out there? i'd be interested in following if there are. | // ask to be untagged or to be tagged in similar terms

this is another one that i think is so specific nobody will ever use it. but that's fine, really. /pos

[ebitenoisii]

Wedding Planner x Divorce Lawyer AU, more plot underneath :)

inSPIRE Law

A suspicious law firm that seems to specialize in divorce proceedings. There are rumors that it used to be one of the best law firms in Crispia, run by a genius valedictorian of its finest law schools, but… do you really trust this place?

Candy Apple Cookie

A sweet 11-and-a-half-year-old (the half is important) who hangs around the firm in the afternoon.

She’s Shadow Milk’s daughter, but he can’t afford childcare, so he takes her to work. She works on her homework and tests her pranks on Mr. Sapphire.

Although she can be impulsive, she deeply cares about Mr. Sapphire and her Papa.

Black Sapphire Cookie

A strange intern from an unknown law school who really really needed shadowing experience.

He constantly breaks confidentiality law by reading files he’s not supposed to read, but… he’s the only one in charge of the files anyway.

He gets annoyed at Candy Apple’s antics, but sticks around since he likes the job.

It appears he’s trying to get a podcast project started, but exclusively talks about Twitter drama with no receipts.

Shadow Milk Cookie

Previously an esteemed lawyer, but something happened around 12 years ago, so now he’s a divorce lawyer.

His favorite thing is the messy couples who come in to litigate their belongings among each other.

It appears he has a less-than-ideal personal history with romance.

Purely Sweet Weddings

A beautiful wedding planner group that focuses on creating everyone’s happily ever after. It’s mainly spearheaded by Pure Vanilla Cookie, but he seeks the help of his beloved friends for his projects as well. They’ve had a flawless list of reviews - well, except for this newest situation…

Pure Vanilla Cookie

A kind, gentle, and compassionate wedding planner. He specializes in events that make use of indoor venues, such as cathedrals.

His favorite thing about the job is meeting passionate couples who are ready to make their dream weddings come true.

He tends to overwork himself, but has a hard rule of only working on one client as a time.

Despite his career as a successful wedding planner, it seems his luck with romance isn’t so great.

White Lily Cookie

A florist who specializes in funeral arrangements. She kind of has an ominous air about her.

Despite her funeral speciality, PV enjoys her arrangements for wedding events.

She and Pure Vanilla were highschool lovebirds who somehow didn’t quite work out…

Hollyberry Cookie

The caterer and baker for Purely Sweet Weddings. She’s got an army of chefs ready to roll!

She’s very passionate about her job, and her lax attitude makes her popular. But don’t underestimate her - she’s serious about deadlines!

She’s not actually the one who decorates cakes. Wildberry Cookie is in charge of that.

Golden Cheese Cookie

She’s in charge of budgeting and finance, but it seems she tries to get clients to spend more rather than less.

Golden Cheese has a great eye for fashion, and is confident with everything she does. However, she can bite off more than she can chew.

Despite goading customers to spend more, she doesn’t actually get paid in commission. She just likes doing it.

Dark Cacao Cookie

I love him but idk what he’s gonna do yet. For now he’ll be the bus driver or something.

[casuallyanidiot]

Omg your yandere coworker *chef's kiss*

I imagine he's just frustrated and angry because he can't believe he's fallen for a loser like reader. Like they are such a mess all the time. So soft and easy to tire. They look so out of place in this workplace environment.

But over time it starts to click that all he was to do is take them away and keep them at home. Reader shouldn't even be at work! Reader should be sitting pretty at home like the good little spouse he knows they are all that they are good for!

Man he'll have to come up with a plan to make that happen wouldn't he?

Thanks! He's awful! :)

I think the worst part about Yan coworker is that he believes he's actually a good person. Maybe if he just acknowledged how scummy he was, he wouldn't be half as bad.

He he's had enough of you stumbling all over yourself like an idiot. Yandere Coworker pulls you aside one day into a storage closet. He's trying so hard not to snap and fuck you stupid against some half empty shelves, so instead he settles for gripping your arms. Isn't he a gentleman? Anyways, he lays it out for you.

"You need to quit," He says simply. His voice is gruff and firm, and you blink in surprise. "What?" You stammer out. He's tall, intimidatingly so, and you tremble as he holds you. "No, no I'm not- I can't quit! This is my job! I know you don't really like me, but that's out of line," You hiss out and squirm away from him.

Yandere coworker realizes you really are very, very dumb. There's nothing in that stupid little head of yours, is there? You can't even tell how much he's looking out for you. You're crumbling under the weight of this job, and he can't stand seeing you so unhappy.

But he makes enough money for the two of you. He can handle this while you can't. In fact, the more he thinks about it, he can't figure out just what in the world you would be good at. He tries to picture you as successful at anything and comes up blank. Huh... You really are good for nothing. Except,,, you would probably do well if you didn't have to do anything at all.

Yandere coworker starts to think about how much prettier you would be if you got proper sleep. He likes the way you look in corporate attire (That is on the rare occasions where you don't look like a hot mess), but he bets you'd like to be in expensive and revealing loungewear even more. The only thing you would have to do is keep your house tidy, and keep yourself nice and presentable for whoever provided for you. Yeah, you'd be perfect for that. And guess what? He could give you that.

Yandere coworker knows that you're far too stubborn for your own good. He begins to actively sabotage your work. He inserts spelling errors into your reports, changes the numbers of any potential client before you have the chance to make a sale. He allows himself to be more officially promoted, and with the new power he has, he assigns you increasingly difficult tasks.

You try and report him for essentially bullying you, but the complaint is thrown out with little care. He's one of the best employees the company had ever seen, and you were just some bumbling broad who couldn't even spell their own name right on official documents.

Before long, you're fired. Yandere Coworker uses his position in the company and many connections he has to essentially black list you.

You can't get a decent job in your field anymore. Plus you begin to get behind on rent and bills. Your life is going to shit, yet you still refuse to take him up on his many offers. It's infuriating, and he just wants to put you in a place that he knows you'll be safe and happy in.

Yandere Coworker just thinks your too dumb to realize how kind he's being. He hopes that you're smart enough to recognize how nice the trunk of a luxury car is. After all, you're going to be there for a while until he can get you to his home where you'll never have to use that useless brain of yours again.

[mutedwinter]

Thank you for choosing Blue’s RENT-A-BOYFRIEND service! Below we have our catalog which includes a variety of our most popular boyfriends! Here you can choose to own or rent one or more of our packages.

Disclaimer! We genuinely advise for our customers to not tamper with or attempt to jailbreak any of our boyfriend bots. Doing so will lead to a fine or lawsuit.

The Hopeless Romantic Boyfriend — Choso

Best accompanied: The beach, amusement parks, drive in movies and diners.

Personality: Caring and thoughtful. He’ll rid your life of any negativity and only bring love and compassion. He believes that the start of a stable relationship is support on both ends! Whether that support is emotional, mental, or physical. Soft at heart and a great chef, he makes sure that you’re always comfortable and well fed.

Includes: Long car rides, walks on the beach, movies dates, and homemade meals.

The Classy Eye Candy Boyfriend - Nanami

Best accompanied: Galas, Fancy dinners, and Meeting your parents.

Personality: This boyfriend is perfect for showing off to your coworkers, friends, and family. He’s tall, blonde, and rich. He’s quite the catch and is an excellent conversationalist. Easy on the eyes and equipped with elegance and grace, he makes sure that you’re always having a good time.

Includes: bringing you lunch, massage therapy, dinner dates, and motivational quotes.

The Ever Lasting Boyfriend - Geto

Best accompanied: On a stormy night, cafes, and on a comfy couch.

Personality: Chill and quiet. This boyfriend is ideal for you if you’re an introvert. He’s always up for a movie night and a bowl of popcorn. He’s quite intelligent and loves to learn new things.

Includes: study dates, road trips, late night shopping, and building pillow forts.

The Charmer Boyfriend — Sukuna

Best accompanied: Anywhere

Personality: The charmer boyfriend is equipped with hugs and kisses to make anywhere feel likes it’s just you two. He craves your attention and loves to serenade you.

Includes: Slow dancing to no music, flower picking, randomly showing up to bring you lunch, doting, hugs from behind, forehead kisses, and dad jokes.

The Adventurous Boyfriend — Ino

Best accompanied: The beach shore, a rainy day, dog parks, and carnival dates.

Personality: This boyfriend is very popular amongst both the younger and older clients. With the adventurous boyfriend you’re going to have the most amazing time. He’s spontaneous and full of surprises. This boyfriend is always one step ahead and likes to make sure that you’re always having fun.

Includes: convenient store dates, late night rides, Binging tv shows, pigging out on junk food, and late night fast food runs.

The Ethereal Boyfriend — Satoru

Best accompanied: Anywhere

Personality: The Ethereal Boyfriend is everything you want and need. He’s molded to your preferences and wants. His presence is like a gift and he’ll make you feel like you’re the luckiest person on earth. Due to his charms, he’s become the most popular in the franchise. He’ll never let anything get in the way of your happiness.

Includes: Cuddles, Breakfast in bed, Surreal Tenderness, laughter, suggestive language, sugary smiles, and physical affection.

Divider by @v6que !!

[matchalovertrait]

Alegría v Caruso: Day 3, Pt. 2

"Please state your name and occupation for the record," Antonio requested.

"Mia D'Angelo-Ramirez. Michelin-starred chef and head judge of Diced Junior," the woman spoke calmly.

"What was your impression of Ms. Alegría?"

Mia smiled. "At first? I saw a younger version of myself, though not nearly as shy. She's a star. A brilliant artist. She made a name for herself."

"So, in your professional opinion and experience, has Ms. Alegría ever shown signs of struggling with originality?"

"Not once. She's quick on her feet. That's one of the reasons why she was chosen to compete in Diced Junior."

Antonio nodded. "Would someone like Ms. Alegría—who has spent years refining her skills, proving her creativity, and training at Santoro—have any reason to steal recipes?"

"No. She wouldn't need to. Even when she and another contestant both prepared soups for the second round, their dishes were still distinct. If we suspected copying, she would have been eliminated for that alone."

Antonio turned to the jury. "There you have it. Straight from one of the most respected chefs in the industry. Ms. Alegría is not a thief. She is an innovator. There is no question about her talent or whether she deserved her spot. She didn't need to steal."

Then it was Isabela's turn. "Ms. D'Angelo-Ramirez, just to clarify, you attended Santoro yourself, correct?"

"Yes, I'm an alumna."

"How many Diced Junior contestants have been accepted into Santoro over the years?"

"Not many."

"So, it's quite rare for a former contestant to be accepted into such an acclaimed program?"

"It's rare because Santoro has high standards, even higher than needed to be accepted to compete in Diced Junior. Clearly, Dulce met them."

Isabela paused, trying not to smirk. "Or maybe... she is not that skilled and had a little help?"

The people in the courtroom grew curious.

Antonio knew exactly where she was headed. "Objection. Speculation."

"Sustained," the judge asserted. "Careful, Ms. Campos."

Isabela continued, "Let's talk about Mr. Caruso, then. Ms. D'Angelo-Ramirez, as part of the Diced Junior selection process, did Mr. Caruso ever make it into the show?"

Dulce had no idea where Isabela was going with this. That's a weird question.. doesn't that go against her own client?

"No," Mia responded with caution, also noting the odd question. "He auditioned multiple times but was never selected.

A few jurors exchanged glances, some of them gasped. Auditioned several times, and he never got in?

Isabela moved forward, "And Mr. Caruso didn't need a TV show to prove himself. He got into Santoro on his own merit, didn't he?"

"I suppose so? I'm not part of the Santoro admission committee, Ms. Campos."

"And yet, Ms. Alegría—someone you publicly vouched for—was accepted into the same program as you, despite the chances."

"Objection-" Antonio began to say.

"Overruled," the judge said. "Proceed."

Isabela looked at the judge. "Your Honor, I have evidence. May I present it to the court?"

"Go ahead. But it better be relevant."

"Ms. D'Angelo-Ramirez, during filming, you told Ms. Alegría, and I quote: "I'll be watching your career closely. Don't let me down, alright? Be smart with your choices."

Mia knew it was true before Isabela played the video. She had meant for the conversation after Dulce's elimination to happen off-camera, but the producers had kept rolling and aired the footage anyway.

"I truly saw potential in Dulce. Don't twist my words," Mia argued.

Isabela turned to the jury. "All I ask is that you consider the possibility that personal connections—not talent—played a role in Dulce's admission to Santoro. Perhaps Ms. Alegría isn't as skilled as she claims. Ms. D'Angelo-Ramirez took a liking to her, after all. And she said, 'Don't let me down.' Now that Ms. Alegría is facing serious allegations, isn't it possible that Ms. D'Angelo-Ramirez is simply trying to save face?"

Fine, Isabela. Want to bring out the clips? Let's do it then.

"Your Honor, if I may, I would like to present a compilation of clips from Ms. Alegría's episode of Diced Junior."

What was this? Movie time? The judge really wished it was allowed to eat popcorn on the job. "Proceed, Mr. Romero."

A lively preteen Dulce was shown on the screen. The courtroom watched the young chef talk about her dishes in detail, share her thought processes, and maneuver around the kitchen with ease. The professionalism and precision were apparent. Many adults now can't do what the child on the television was doing.

When the video ended, Antonio turned to the jurors. "That is the same Dulce Alegría that is sitting in front of you today. Imagine everything else she accomplished in nearly a decade after his was filmed."

He continued. "Dulce Alegría is not a thief. Maybe she didn't win Diced Junior, but she has proved herself in many ways. She had a promising career, which is now suffering because of damaging lies. She lost opportunities. Doors that were once open for her were promptly shut. I ask you to hold the defendants responsible. Words have power, and today, your verdict will ensure that truth prevails. Thank you."

It was time for the jurors to deliberate.

Start from the beginning (Gen 2)

Previous | Next

[berrystainedsue]

some of my all time favourite fics!

*as of 4/3/2025

@tommolinson asked me what my all time fav fics are, so i thought hey why not do a masterpost of sorts. these are fics i come back to and reread over and over. there is literally no way i can ever fit all my favourite fics into a post so im going to try and pick my top faves.

Remember Me Before You (293K) by kingsofeverything | @kingsofeverything

Desperate to find a new place to live after he comes home to find his boyfriend cheating, Harry moves into a loft with three strangers.

A New Girl AU.

★・・・・・・★

Escapade (146K) by dolce_piccante 

In the grand scheme of things, finding a date for a wedding should be no problem for Louis Tomlinson. He's rich. He's handsome. He's reasonably well behaved. But when the wedding is for his lifelong best friend (and former boyfriend), and is happening in under a month, finding a date for the ceremony and accompanying festivities becomes more of an adventure than he ever could have planned for.

★・・・・・・★

Relief Next To Me (333K) by dolce_piccante

What happens when a baker and a graphic designer meet via a very specific Craigslist post? Fate, friendship, food, and maybe more.

★・・・・・・★

[series] No Control Club by SadaVeniren | @sadaveniren

No Control is a No From Me

By Harry Styles

I know this is probably a controversial opinion and review because I have only heard great things from people going to No Control before but I cannot recommend it to anyone. While the facility is nice, the people who work there do not seem to care for their clients well being, and I do not feel safe going there in any capacity. I suppose when I want to play next I will have to travel back down to London, or maybe, unfortunately, Liverpool. If I must.

Aka Harry, a popular BDSM blogger, writes a negative review about Louis’ club. Louis wants to have a chance to make it up to him.

★・・・・・・★

★・・・・・・★

[series] Your Mess Is Mine (214K) by amory | @amories

Louis is the father to the most brilliant little boy in the world who is all Louis really needs, or at least that's what he tells himself. Harry is a gorgeous boybander fresh off a two year break and a massive scandal that's left him a little broken and more than ready to move on.

They fall in love.

★・・・・・・★

Eternal Summer (75K) by j_klmnop

After the death of his estranged father, Harry has to make the trip from England to Italy to say his goodbyes. He has seven days before the funeral, and since his summer break has just begun, he decides to make a road trip out of it.

His carefully planned itinerary is thrown out the window when he meets a beautiful blue eyed hitchhiker named Louis, who is trying to flee from his controlling family.

With no destination in mind— just the desire to get as far away as possible, Louis decides to tag along for the ride, with plans to continue on once they arrive.

With a few hiccups and some personal revelations along the way, they both end up gaining much more from the trip than they had bargained for.

★・・・・・・★

[series] A Picture's Worth by unscattered_horizons

ziam (162K) , larry (172K) & shiall (144K) stories

★・・・・・・★

Second Spring (103K) by beechersnope

Two years into their relationship, Louis and Harry encounter a new beginning.

★・・・・・・★

[series] such a beautiful dream (112K) by staybeautiful

Louis woke up after having a sexy dream about his best friend’s boyfriend’s best friend resolved to never think about it again. He hardly knew Harry, so what difference would it make? But when they are thrown together only a few days later, Louis had to admit, his subconscious might have been onto something.

★・・・・・・★

For As Long As I Can Remember (It's Been December) (128K) by green_feelings

After recovering from a severe accident that causes Harry to lose his memory of three years, he moves to London to start his life over as a star chef. Little does he know that when he falls in love with Louis at first sight, it’s not the first time they meet.

Featuring an unintentional game of hot and cold, Harry chasing memories that won’t come back, Louis burying himself in work to try and forget what he can’t forget, Liam being torn between two of his best friends, Zayn as a moral compass and Niall saving the day with good music and brutal honesty.

★・・・・・・★

futile devices (i do love you) (103K) by fckingfreakshow

the one where harry's mom gets engaged when he's 17 and he's truly, madly, deeply in love with his 23–or 24–year old stepbrother.

★・・・・・・★

To the Ends of the Earth (68K) by stylinsoncity

During a yearlong hiatus, Louis visits Harry at his cabin in Idaho, where long-buried feelings ignite like the fire keeping them warm.

★・・・・・・★

The World Outside Is Bigger Than Me (60K) by Ioudloudlove 

A university sweetheart AU where Harry and Louis haven't spoken for years after a bad break up. But seeking shelter from a storm, Louis unwittingly finds himself on Harry's doorstep..

★・・・・・・★

got the sunshine on my shoulders (124K) by hattalove

five years ago, harry styles left his tiny home town to make it big as a recording artist. he didn't have much regard for what he left behind - a life, a family, and a husband, who woke up one morning to find him gone.

now, harry has everything he could possibly want: he's rich, famous, and adored by everyone he meets, including his boyfriend. but when said boyfriend proposes to him, he's forced to face the uncomfortable facts of his past - and louis, who's spent the last five years returning every set of divorce papers harry sent him.

(or, an au based on the movie sweet home alabama.)

★・・・・・・★

Baby We Could Be Enough (74K) by lovelarry10 | @likelarryfics

Harry Styles has always wanted a family, but his boyfriend doesn’t. When an unexpected pregnancy leaves Harry feeling alone and terrified, he feels he has no choice but to give up his baby. He finds a family with the adoptive parents, and maybe something more.

~

Louis Tomlinson and his wife, Jess, have been trying for a baby for years. Their hasty marriage after they first got pregnant has only led to a series of miscarriages that have put a strain on their already precarious relationship. When they meet a young man desperate for a home and someone to raise his child, Louis realizes that he may have been moving in the wrong direction all along.

★・・・・・・★

Teach me how to love (70K) by perfectdagger (sincerelyste) | @perfectdagger

Louis can’t believe he’s third wheeling, again, so he scans the bar trying to find something better to do.

And as he does, he recognizes a face.

That face looks angry, almost fuming and Louis takes a gulp from his beer and looks to the other side, pretending he didn’t even see the bloke, pretending he has no clue who that person coming over his way is.

“You’ve told everyone and their mother that I’m a bad fucker?!”

That’s how Harry greets him.

Smooth.

Not really.

The one in which Harry is bad at sex and Louis spreads it all over town and to make up for it, decides to help him with no agenda of getting anything from it, but in the end, he ends up getting more than he bargained for.

★・・・・・・★

[series] All in the Golden Afternoon (252K) by leighllbealright | @leighllbealright

When Louis Tomlinson needed to find a new preschool for his daughter, he wasn't expecting the one across the street to be everything he and Goldie ever needed.

Or: the one where Louis is closed off, Harry is the weirdest person ever, and Gemma may as well be a psychic.

Somehow, calico-cat-style, they forge a beautiful family from pieces that don't quite fit.

★・・・・・・★

Chasing, Searching, Dreaming (46K) by parmahamlarrie | @parmahamlarrie

Everyone is chasing, searching, dreaming of their soulmate.

Harry has known who his soulmate is since he was twenty years old, and ever since, he has been waiting for Louis to be ready for him. The unexpected passing of Louis' mum, and the fact that now he is the guardian of his twin two-year-old little siblings, just means that Harry is going to have to wait a bit longer.

A soulmate AU full of cute kids, house building, therapy, and a lot of dreaming.

★・・・・・・★

Time Passed (66K) by coffinofachimera

Louis struggles with their relationship as Harry grows into his identity.

★・・・・・・★

Haven (35K) by orphan_account

"I take it you’re not a new student?”

“What?” Harry mumbles, caught up in the way his eyes are quite literally sparkling in the light. “Oh—No. Not a student.”

“Are you a sub?” Louis asks.

Harry clenches his hands into fists, holding them behind his back as he stumbles a bit. “I don’t, uh—I mean. I’ve never really gotten a chance to be a true sub, you know? My ex-partners were always scared they’d hurt me. But, like—If I trusted someone a lot, and if we used a, a safeword. And talked about, you know, boundaries, then—Yes, yeah, I-I’m a sub.”

Louis’ eyes are so wide, his cheeks puffing out in the effort to not burst into laughter.

“Oh shit, oh my god,” Harry whispers. “You meant—Oh god."

★・・・・・・★

For A Rainy Day (143K) by Ioudloudlove

A secret admirer AU where Harry tries to be the hero Louis desperately needs.

★・・・・・・★

Let Me Be Your Star (252K) by lovelarry10

Louis Tomlinson has always wanted to mentor young musicians. When he’s asked to be a judge on The X-Factor, it’s a dream come true, everything he ever wanted. What he didn’t expect was to meet a curly-headed stranger that would turn his life upside down

★・・・・・・★

these bad omens (I look right through them) (82K) by likelarry

How on earth does someone his parents' age look so damn hot? All of their other friends look... bland and boring.

But Louis, fucking hell. He's something out of Harry's wettest fucking dreams.

Where Louis is Harry's parents' friend and teaches at Harry's university. Harry can't resist getting a taste.

★・・・・・・★

Late Night Talking (53K) by kingsofeverything | @kingsofeverything

Louis Tomlinson has a new album coming out and a second world tour on the horizon. Promo season gets underway with a stop at Late Night Talking, the late night show hosted by Harry Styles, and Harry Styles just happens to be the man who blew a chance to date Louis a decade ago.

★・・・・・・★

[series] all we can do is keep breathing (865K) by thealmightyavocado

a fated story of two broken and battered boys who barely survived the unimaginable and how the love of one little brave girl defies all the odds and somehow puts them back together.

★・・・・・・★

You Can Hear It In The Silence (234K) by Imogenlee | @imogenleewriter

When Harry Styles was accepted into a post-grad degree, he knew he could no longer afford his flat, leaving him with three options:

1) Move back into student halls.

2) Become homeless.

3) Move in with his best (and only) friend, Niall, and three of Niall's other mates.

He went with the third option. But it was a close race.

Shame one of his roommates reminded him why he only has one friend.

If there is one thing Louis Tomlinson can't stand, it's pretentious tossers, having grown up around enough of them. If there is one thing he can't live without, it would be his friends. So he was proper thrilled to move in with his best mates and a couple of other lads.

That was until he discovered one of them was the archetype for a pretentious tosser.

In the interest of seeing out the twelve-month lease without killing each other, they both try (debatable) to get along despite believing they are opposite in almost every conceivable way, each having the communication skills of a cucumber, and secrets that have no business be kept secret.

★・・・・・・★

You’ve Got My Devotion (Hate You Sometimes) (95K) by auburnstargazer | @harryrainbows

Harry was in the biggest boy band in the world. He was also one half of the best (or worst, depends on who you ask) kept secret relationship in the music industry.

Now, almost five years on, after One Direction has broken up, and Harry and Louis' relationship has as well, a video threatens to put everything at risk.

One determined Irishman, a massive publicity stunt and two begrudging exes are all it takes to bring One Direction back to life and maybe, just maybe, Harry and Louis' mangled love life too.

Or: Harry and Louis are forced to fake-date after an old video from when they were dating emerges.

★・・・・・・★

Wind beneath my wings (93K) by lunarheslwt | @lunarheslwt

“You shouldn’t be here,” Harry gritted out, wild-eyed. “You should be scared of me.”

Louis opened his mouth to speak, to cut him off, to disagree, but Harry was pushing. “I could hurt you.”

“You won’t hurt me,” Louis said, simple and assuredly. Calm.

“I’m capable of hurting you.”

“But you won’t. That’s not who you are, Harry. I trust you,” Louis whispered.

As an omega carer that works at a rescue and rehabilitation centre for feral alphas and omegas, Louis has experienced all sides of ferality. So Harry- a cold, near mute, non-receptive alpha- was a challenging case for everyone at Phoenix Rehab Centre. Louis wasn’t expecting to feel drawn towards an aloof Harry, or to form a slow bond with him. He certainly was not expecting for his entire life to change in unforeseen ways.

★・・・・・・★

How It Would Feel To Be Free (90K) by lovelarry10 | @chloehl10

“When's she due?”

“She said next month,” Harry replied quickly, ignoring the look of shock on Louis’ face. “How the hell am I going to tell my parents that I’m going to be a father, and to a baby born out of wedlock? It’s going to be some whole-ass scandal, Lou, and I can’t ... I can’t-”

 “I’ll help you. Whatever it takes, Harry, I’ll be there for you.”

 ~~~~~

When Prince Harry unexpectedly becomes a father, his best friend Louis steps in. The masses believe the baby is Louis’, but all Harry wants is to tell the world the truth - about the baby and his feelings for Louis.

★・・・・・・★

elephant juice (32K) by stylinsoncity

harry doesn't understand boundaries. louis doesn't mind at all.

★・・・・・・★

Temporary Fix (237K) by dbeaux

Whether it’s a company event, a date for the day, a hookup, a vacation companion, or even just someone to spend time with for a few hours, whether it’s formal, extremely casual, or somewhere in between, no matter what the requirements, you provide when and what your needs are and leave the rest to us. - Temporary Fix

Harry needs someone to go with him to his parents' yearly event. After months of debating and one drunken night, he wakes up to find he submitted the application. He knows it's unfair to subject someone to his life, but when his eyes land on Louis, he finds himself drawn to him. Is it possible that Louis could be his saving grace?

Louis doesn't need anyone. He's better off alone, so why did Zayn send in his application to Temporary Fix? Louis has secrets...lots of them, and he intends to keep them. After all, no one needs to know, but after he meets Harry he finds himself wondering if he can let go and trust again. Can Louis let Harry in? Can Harry accept him once he knows everything?

★・・・・・・★

What Was I Made For (40K) by therogueskimo | @bravetemptation

Louis’ eyes narrowed. “Go on. Tell me how I don’t belong in this world and I never should have been born.”

“Louis … I don’t want to do any of that. I never wanted to abuse your trust, I just … I knew something was bothering you and then I called Liam and he told me that you were … and I just wanted to understand. (…) If I understood what was causing you this anguish, I could help.”

“No one can help me,” Louis mumbled, a tear spilling over onto his cheek.

“I can, Lou,” Harry said in a soft, gentle voice. “I’m not scared of you. I don’t hate you. I just want to help.”

★・・・・・・★

Hiding Place (365K) by orphan_account

Louis never wanted a soulmate, didn’t really care for the whole Bonding thing at all, really. Enter Harry Styles, who’s wanted to be Bonded for as long as he could remember. With one fateful meeting in an X Factor bathroom, Louis gets a dagger on his arm and the realization that just because Harry is his soulmate doesn’t mean it’s mutual.

From the X Factor house to Madison Square Garden, from the Fountain Studios stage to stadiums across the world, Louis has to learn to love without losing himself completely, because someday his best friend will Bond to someone and replace Louis as the center of his universe. Meanwhile, Harry begins to think that maybe fate doesn’t actually know what it’s doing after all, because his other half has clearly been right in front of him the whole time. All he has to do now is convince Louis to give them a chance.

Or, the canon compliant Harry and Louis love story from the very beginning, where the only difference is that the love between them is literally written on their skin, and there’s only so much they can hide.

★・・・・・・★

[deleted fic, link to download] Road Less Travelled (98K) by freetheankles

Louis was a lumberjack happy to be living his life alone in what could qualify as Middle Of Nowhere, Canada.

Every morning, he went out into the woods, cut his logs, then came home at dusk to a scalding hot shower and a good book by the fireplace. Rinse and Repeat. He had a good life, quiet and peaceful; simple. Not a secluded one as Niall annoyingly claimed.

Louis certainly didn’t need some chatty trespasser dropping into his life, his forest, his home. Invading his space, his circle of friends, touching his stuff, asking questions about his husband. His late husband.

A trespasser who wasn’t supposed to crawl under his skin, occupy his thoughts, and steal his heart from where Louis had locked it safely away, only to put it right back on Louis’ sleeve — where it once laid.

No, Louis definitely didn’t need Harry.

★・・・・・・★

Of Mates and Men (630K) by bananaheathen | @bananaheathen

In which, Louis and Harry meet as best men for their best friends' wedding... well... sort of.

Or, the one where Harry's just moved back from New York and Louis doesn't believe in romance.

Or, I guess... the one where Zayn and Liam are getting married.

★・・・・・・★

[deleted fic, link to download] Where Your Heart Is (154K) by tvshows_addict

Louis is ready for his brand new adventure. So what if he suffers from a genetic condition that prevents him from being touched? College is going to be awesome. It has to. Karma kind of owes him right now. Forget about his overprotective mother, or Liam– his entirely too chipper step brother– or his mess of a roommate. Forget about the gloves he has to wear at all times. He’s here to expand his knowledge, write and drown himself in books – No matter how distracting ‘Hallway Boy’ may be– The obnoxious, flirty frat wannabe determined to become the bane of Louis’ existence.

Or, a college AU set in San Francisco where two lost boys who seemingly have nothing in common find inspiration, each other, and themselves in the process.

★・・・・・・★

No Good Deed (Goes Unpunished) (168K) by JasTheLarrie

A misinterpreted gesture of kindness pits newly-single father Louis against a kind-hearted Harry who only wants to help.

“I don’t need your pity,” he seethed. At Louis’ words, Harry frowned.

“You don’t have it.” Harry’s voice was quiet. Hurt. “I’ve been where you are. I don’t pity you, Louis.”

“Pity or not, you were out of line,” Louis growled through gritted teeth. “I didn’t ask for your help and I definitely don’t need it.”

He was hanging onto restraint for dear life. He wanted to scream in Harry’s face. He wanted to make him feel as shitty as he’d just made Louis feel. He wanted to embarrass Harry the way he’d just embarrassed him.

“I’m doing just fine without your charity. Keep your ‘good deeds’ to yourself.”

★・・・・・・★

A Long Way From The Playground (170K) by Pink_Sunsets

One Direction is broken up. They broke up five years ago. That should be the end of the story, right?

Harry is finished with One Direction. He now has a new life, one with two kids and a successful solo career. And he’s happy.

But a call one night from management flips Harry’s whole new life upside down, and he’s forced to face the life he had left behind.

As well as a certain blue eyed man who had left him behind.

★・・・・・・★

feel free to send me an ask if you have read a fic ive recommended! i'd love to talk about the fic with you <3