#chef AU

[jincapableoflove]

A Recipe for Love [SERIES MASTERLIST]

Pairing: Jimin x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: baker/chef! jimin, baker/chef! reader, forbidden romance, angst, fluff, potential smut

Series summary: As their town announces its first-ever baking competition, Kim Y/n and Park Jimin find themselves pairing up to participate. However, the generations-old feud between their families prevents them from doing so. In order to avoid stirring up further animosity between their families, Jimin and Y/n must be secretive. Will Jimin and Y/n be able to be stealthy enough to navigate their days practising and testing out recipes for the competition, without their family members finding out?

Moodboards: jimin | y/n

Series Word Count: ???

Status: Ongoing.

Parts: Part 1: Pistachios and Peppermints Part 2: A Clash of Flavors Part 3: Bittersweet Confections Part 4: Sugary Truce Part 5: Baking Bonds and Floury Fondness More coming soon...

[f14fun]

my own pastry (!baker x op81)

synopsis: in which case y/n meets the infamous racecar driver oscar piastri as she works in her family-owned pastry shop, and she pretends not to know him. little does he know, she's idolized him for the longest time.

smau + prose (2.9K words) ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ profile | masterlist ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

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yourusername

liked by yourbff1, yourbff2 and 58 others

yourusername: the feminine urge to own a bakery

view comments:

yourbff1: alright no need to brag, you were blessed with an amazing family business and i'm here stuck with a desk job

yourusername: you laugh at me everytime i come home with flour stuck on my face.

yourbff1: well...😁😁

user1: wait this is so aesthetic

user2: drop the location of the bakery now! i wanna visit 🫶🏽

yourusername: 5512 streetname, monte carlo monaco!

user2: thx babes you will be seeing me in the next week

yourbff2: so we are not going to talk about the mystery guest that showed up at the bakery today...

yourusername: HE COULD BE LURKING. STAY ALERT. DO NOT MENTION HIM.

yourbff1: you mean osc*r p**str*?? 😝😝🥳

yourusername: ASKJAKJEJAE HE'S GOING TO FIND ME NOOO

yourusername: pls delete your comment i BEG.

yourbff2: @/oscarpiastri @/oscarpiastri @/oscarpiastri

yourbff1: @/oscarpiastri @/oscarpiastri @/oscarpiastri

user3: oh my, bless her poor soul 😭

yourusername: DELETE YOURSELF OH GOD

yourusername: I FEEL A SINISTER PRESENCE COMING

oscarpiastri: my presence was called upon?

yourbff1: LMFAO POINT AND LAUGH 🫵🏻🫵🏻🫵🏻

yourusername: hey-y-y oscar... 🥹

oscarpiastri: did you just stutter over a comment 💀

yourusername: i can explain!! 😁

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To be frank, it's honestly quite difficult to explain the series of events that happened about twelve hours earlier.

6:58 AM ~ l'orchidée bakery shop

It was right before opening. Maman had entrusted me with opening shop and making sure it was running smoothly, and knowing that the fate of our family bakery was in my hands today was especially important to me.

It was 6:58 AM, and since business was typically slow in the first half hour of shop opening, employees showed up half an hour after opening. So there it was me all by myself, until 7:30 AM.

I showed up at the bakery much earlier than normal, at around 3 AM, prepping for the day. The first task was to turn on the ovens, letting them reach the perfect baking temperature.

While the ovens heated up, I took out the baguette and croissant doughs that had been proofing overnight. The doughs were soft and slightly cool to the touch, with a subtle yeasty aroma that promised delicious results. I placed the doughs on the floured countertop, feeling their smooth texture as I gave them one last gentle knead, coaxing out any remaining air bubbles.

Shaping the doughs into their final forms was almost meditative. The baguette dough stretched and folded under my hands, forming into long, slender loaves with tapered ends. The croissant dough was rolled and folded into layers, ready to be cut and shaped into crescents. With each turn and fold, I could feel the anticipation of the final baked product growing.

Next, I mixed batters for cakes, muffins, and other pastries, carefully measuring each ingredient to ensure consistency and quality. The rhythmic motions of stirring and mixing were comforting, grounding me in the early morning quiet of the bakery.

With the ovens now hot, I slid in the first trays of bread and pastries. The smell of baking bread began to fill the bakery, a comforting scent that promised a successful day.

On and on I went prepping, while simultaneously listening to music. One thing about L'Orchidée Bakery, is that our surround sound system that covers every square foot of the little coffee shop, works its magic everyday. It is very difficult to hear many outside noises at that.

So imagine my suprise when I'm singing "Slut!" by Taylor Swift on full volume and I turn around, to only find myself face to face (well, behind a sheet of glass) with none other than Oscar Piastri.

"But if I'm all dressed up, they might as well be looking at us, and if they call me a SLU AHH!-"

I screamed slut, as I spun around and ended up making obnoxiously close eye contact with a boy in a black hoodie and unruly brown hair.

The broom in my hand that I was using to sweep the floor crashed to the floor, a one, big, sweeping motion. Scaring myself, and the boy, we both aggressively lurched back.

This is when I got to take a closer look, and I had just realized that Oscar Piastri had just scared the shit out of both of us.

And I was even more embarrassed to see that poor little Oscar was just trying to look at the bakery's menu, only to get a terrible birds eye view of my horrid singing and dancing.

He started to chuckle, his hand brushing against the faint stubble of hair that was growing across his chin. Sheepishly knocking on one side of the glass that separated us, I gestured for him to come in.

A customer is a customer! (even if he does happen to be the Formula 1 driver I absolutely idolize, and on any given normal day, I would be too shy to even make eye contact with him)

Running to the front entrance of the shop, I reach in my pocket to pull out the plethora of keys that dangle from my measly keychain. Fumbling with a golden key with the letters LB engraved on the key's front, I unlock the door.

"Hi, hello! Welcome to L'orchidée Bakery, so sorry for the little jumpscare you got there," I timidly trailed off.

"You mean the singing, dancing, or both," he joked back. Immediately, my discomfort shifted, as the environment had turned playful. Smiling, I responded.

"Hahaha, you think your funny," I rolled my eyes, as we made our way to the register.

"What can I say, I might just be a stand-up-comedian in disguise," he joked, arms crossed, and his eyes crinkled into a vibrant eye smile.

"Well, are you?" I asked, pretending to genuinely not know his occupation.

"Are what?" He nervously chuckled.

"Are you actually a stand-up-comedian?" I asked.

"Wait, are you serious?" His eyes bulged out, not able to hide his surprise, he fumbled with his phone.

"A hundred percent," I replied, playing the game. Trying to make it believable, I put up a mask of utter confusion. "What's your job?"

"Oh, um, I drive?" He lowly said, he voice trailing off, confused.

"You think you drive of you know you drive?" I barked out a laugh, finding it funny that he ended the sentence in a questioning tone.

"Oh yes, I definitely drive," He nodded his head vigorously.

"So like, Uber, Lift, valet services?" I asked.

"Oh yeah, something like that, yup," Oscar replied. It took everything in me to not burst out laughing from his god-awful acting. This boy couldn't lie for shit, his eyebrows and eyes immediately betrayed him.

Pretending to believe him, I continued our conversation.

"So...do you liked driving around everywhere?" I asked. If this boy kept on lying, I just knew the conversation would get so funny.

"Yeah, it's pretty fun, you know? Getting to meet different people, seeing new places," he said, trying to keep up the charade.

"Interesting! Must be quite an adventure. Any memorable rides?" I prodded, enjoying the playful banter.

"Oh, definitely. Had a guy once who insisted on singing Taylor Swift songs at the top of his lungs," he quipped, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Holding a laugh in, I'm not sure whether he was referring to me, Lando, or Daniel.

"Really? What a coincidence," I said, smirking. "Sounds like my kind of passenger."

We both laughed, the initial awkwardness completely dissolved. It was surreal, chatting casually with Oscar Piastri, as if he were just another customer and not the famous Formula 1 driver I admired.

"So, what can I get for you today?" I asked, ready to actually do my job.

"Surprise me," he said, leaning on the counter. "I'm in the mood for something new."

"Coming right up," I said, turning to grab a fresh-baked strawberry-chocolate croissant and a steaming cup of coffee. As I handed it to him, I couldn't help but feel a sense of triumph. Today was already shaping up to be unforgettable.

Looking around, there didn't seem to be anyone approaching the bakery, so as he sat down at the breakfast bar and asked whether I wanted to sit next to him, I immediately took his offer. (I mean seriously, who would not take the offer?)

"So, what brings you to this little bakery?" I asked, curious.

"Well, I heard a lot of good things about this place. Plus, I'm always on the lookout for a good pastry," he replied. "Figured I'd check it out myself."

"Glad you did," I said warmly. "We do our best to keep the reputation up. And hey, if you ever need more Taylor Swift serenades, you know where to find me."

"Good to know," he said with a laugh. "I'll definitely keep that in mind."

The playful banter made me forget, if only for a moment, that I was talking to a celebrity. It was just a normal conversation, easy and light-hearted.

"So, where do you usually drive?" I asked, pretending to be completely unaware of his true profession.

"Oh, you know, here and there," he said, trying to be vague. "Mostly around the city, sometimes longer trips."

"Must be fun, getting to see different places and meet different people," I said, keeping up the act.

"Yeah, it's interesting for sure," he agreed. "And sometimes you get to witness some pretty crazy stuff."

"I bet," I replied. "Like what?"

"Well, there was this one time I drove a bunch of guys to a music festival. They were already half-drunk and started a karaoke session in the backseat. It was wild," he said with a laugh.

"Sounds like a blast," I said, laughing along. This definitely felt like a recounting of a true story, probably along the lines of something that Yuki or Lando would do.

We continued the conversation, laughing and chatting, flirting here and there for the next half hour until my coworkers arrived. When they did, it gave Oscar and I quite a fright, as we both were mid-conversation when the front door swung open.

My coworker gave us morning blessings, and a blush blossomed across Oscar's cheeks, shy, that he got caught. Crumbling up his paper cup and paper wrap that held what used-to-be a croissant, we both knew it was time for him to leave.

"Wait," I said laughing, "We just had a whole conversation and I still don't know your name," I said, still playing into the role.

"Oscar," he said, genuine, and for a second I felt bad for lying to him. But then again, not really, he played into the banter as well.

"Will I see you here again, Oscar?" I asked.

"You might just have to wait and see," he winked. As I held the door open for him as he left, his hand brushed against mine, and goosebumps rippled across my arm. I felt a swirl of butterflies in my stomach when he smiled and wished me a heartfelt goodbye. Oh, brother.

This is not going to end well.

Snapping me awake from my daydream, my coworker whisper shouted. "You do know that was just Formula One driver Oscar Piastri, right girl? You definitely know who he is."

"Oh of course," I laughed, speaking at a normal volume. "But he doesn't know that I know that," I replied.

"Oh good God, this might end horribly, or become an extremely funny story that one tells at family dinner," my coworker said.

"Do you think the next time he comes he will sign my Oscar Piastri poster hanging in the janitorial closet?" I jokingly asked.

"Y/N!!!" my coworker scolded.

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oscarpiastri

liked by yourbff1, user1 and 303,199 others

oscarpiastri: special treat, special day

view comments:

user1: i hate this cryptic ass caption-

user1: OSCAR WHAT DOES IT MEAN

user2: alright we get it oscar, you had some good food and your big backedness made you have a good day

user3: wait... this pastry shop looks so good i might check it out

user4: oscar giving a bakery a free shoutout, absolutely unheard of

user5: the bakery is called L'Orchidée Bakery, and they are based in monaco! hope this helps 🧁💗

liked by oscarpiastri

user6: wait imagine if oscar's sneaky link worked there, that would be hella funny

user7: ainnoway that man pulls 🧍🏻

user8: honestly, you never know 😭

landonorris: we get it, you would not stop yapping about your amazing strawberry chocolate croissant this morning

landonorris: and how amazing, stunning, and beautiful that one girl was-

logansargeant: you forgot to mention that he was practically drooling everytime he spoke of her

landonorris: and he didn't even get her name 😝🫵🏻

logansargeant: what an absolute LOSER 💀

oscarpiastri: DELETE THIS.

oscarpiastri: DELETE THIS NOW.

oscarpiastri: i am not a loser. i very much win in life.

oscarpiastri: PLEASE DELETE THIS.

this comment thread has been deleted

user9: SKSKKSKSREJAJA did you guys see the deleted comment thread omg

user10: that is not real omg, oscar rizzing finally??!

user7: @/user6 i'm so sorry you were so right 😭😭

user6: i just know he pulls hella bitches

user6: you guys are just unfamiliar with his game (awkward white boy rizz)

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, yourbff1 and 101 others

yourusername: la dolce vita (he bought me books and flowers, and baked for me)

view comments

yourbff1: yada yada yada, no need to rub it in you bagged your longtime bae

user1: WAIT THATS HER NEW BOYFIE??

yourbff2: what in the soft launch, CALL ME NOW-

yourbff2: PLEASE ANSWER THE PHONE

oscarpiastri: no can do cuz 🥳😝📢

oscarpiastri: i fear she's cuddling with her man right now

yourbff2: YOU STOLE MY GIRL, you GIRL STEALER 🫵🏿

yourbff1: out of context that sounds so, so wrong 💀

user2: babe, your new boyfie is oscar mf piastri. 🧍🏻‍♀️

liked by yourusername and oscarpiastri

oscarpiastri: so sad that you lied to me when we first met

oscarpiastri: heart❤️ been broke💔🤕 so many times⏰ i don’t know❌🤷‍♀️ what to believe 🍃🙏 yeah👍 mama🤰say it’s my👧😣fault🥺😢 my fault😭😞 i wear my heart💝 on my sleeve👕

yourusername: SO SO SO SORRY BABE XX

user3: she's just a girl, oscar 🙄

oscarpiastri: i hope the date was amazing, you cutie patootie

yourusername: of course it was, my hubby bubby

oscarpiastri: ugh, my teddy bear honey bee is so cute in this

yourusername: you're definitely cuter sugar plum baby bear

yourbff1: YOU DIGUST ME

yourbff1: GET TS OUT OF THE COMMENT SECTION

user4: ^^ and INTO the bedroom

liked by oscarpiastri

yourbff2: @/user4 @/oscarpiastri aw HELL NO ❌❌👈🏿

yourbff2: she is my ROOMATE and the walls are THIN 🧍🏿‍♀️

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, yourbff1 and 487,120 others

oscarpiastri: i just got wined and dined

view comments:

user1: two posts of the same bakery in a row?! yeah, somethings up

user2: the jig is up oscar! reveal your girlfriend

landonorris: ohhh, so that's why you were gone for dinner

logansargaent: L to you, because i knew where he was the whole time

landonorris: not fair @/oscarpiastri, not fair 📢📢

charles_leclerc: who is this lovely woman oscar?

charles_leclerc: hello?? do not ignore me

user3: LMFAO oscar ANSWER UR FATHER

charles_leclerc: it says that you are active on instagram, i see you

charles_leclerc: i just want to know who my son's girlfriend is

user4: girlfriend?!?!? what have i missed omg, i just left insta for a week

user5: oscar's soft launch era 💀 LMAO, we think he's dating a girl who works at a bakery

user5: he thinks he is being sneaky and subtle but he's really NOT.

user6: wait guys i think i found her @, its yourusername i think

user7: wait it totally is, in one of her posts, she's wearing that exact same white shirt

user8: and the bakery looks EXACTLY the same in both of their posts

user9: SKMSJEOAMSKK SHE'S IN THE LIKES YOU GUYS YOURUSERNAME IS IN THE LIKES

user10: @/yourusername girl stop lurking in the comments i know your reading them 🧐🤨

liked by yourusername

user10: SJEHLSHEILA SEE I TOLD YOU SO

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 28,991 others

yourusername: dinner with a side of formula one pic creds: my boyfie ofc 💗

view comments:

yourusername: chat, i blew up so much omg

yourusername: in my famous era i guess

user1: you mean your WAG era ofc...

liked by oscarpiastri

yourbff1: i'm single, and my fist is ready to mingle in your face

landonorris: so this is the girl, huh, she's pretty

oscarpiastri: HOWDIDYOUFINDHER

oscarpiastri: she's MINE to call pretty btw. 🤬😡💢

landonorris: stole ur phone hehe

yourbff2: rip my ass for having to take all these lovey dovey disgusting pics of them.

yourbff2: DO NOT BREAK HER HEART OSCAH 🍴🍴🍴

yourusername: DO NOT THREATEN HIM PLEASE 😭 (ty for taking these pics omg tysm)

oscarpiastri: I PROMISE I PROMISE TO LOVE MY SUGAR PLUM FAIRY SO VERY MUCH

yourusername: awww, i love you too my honey bear bee

yourbff1: and they're back.

charles_leclerc: omg guys i found her instagram @/logansargeant @/georgerussel63 @/lewishamilton

oscarpiastri: PLEAASEEE NOOOOO

yourusername: what, afraid to show your girlfriend off 🤨🫵🏽

oscarpiastri: whatttt, nooo

georgerussel63: i like you @/yourusername, you make oscar scared

yourusername: awww, thx george <33

oscarpiastri: not funny george

oscarpiastri: are we still ignoring the fact that you lied to me when we first met 🤬🧐

yourusername: are we still ignoring that you ALSO lied to me?!

charles_leclerc: kids, kids, get along please!

oscarpiastri: yes, father

yourusername: yes, father-in-law

yourusername and oscarpiastri

liked by yourbff1, charles_leclerc and 1,220,151 others

yourusername and oscarpiastri: hard launches, only.

comments are disabled

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author's note: ty guys for reading this fic! 😍🫶🏾

[moiztnoodlez]

chefs🤌

[batneko]

have some chef AU!

[sysakiddo]

Max is the youngest Dutch chef with three michelin stars and is seen as the world’s best cook by most of the relevant people. Buuut the word gets out that he doesn’t treat his cooks very nicely and then one time, someone he had fired said Max got physical in several instances. Max thinks it’s all bullshit and doesn’t listen to the buzz, he wants his food to speak for him. So what if he raises his voice sometimes? They are not in kindergarten, for fuck’s sake. 

The restaurant’s marketing team is not thrilled. They make a plan to salvage his reputation. Basically, they make him be the judge for one of those Masterchef VIP things, where he needs to comment on horrible food made by some celebrities who are usually too dumb to read the script. He says he will do one season, unfiltered, and then never walk out of his restaurant ever again. He doesn’t care about his reputation in the tabloids, he only cares about his stars. 

Daniel just won his third WDC. He’s also there. Cooking. His marketing teams think this is a beautiful opportunity to milk the American market. And Daniel is like, you want me to cook now? Okay. He is on top of the world, he doesn’t give a shit. 

His opinion changes drastically during the first challenge.

They are supposed to make a food they would cook for a friend. To balance Max out, the other judge is Charles. With one Michelin star. Max tries not to make himself look too smug about it. 

“So, what is this pasta situation?” Charles asks Daniel, who is currently failing to drain the pasta water without getting rid of half the pasta down the drain. 

“Um, I’m making pasta and chicken,” Daniel smiles and points at the charred chicken breast served on the table. He puts a bit of pasta next to it unceremoniously, “There it is! I’m done.”

Max narrows his eyes. “With sixty minutes on the clock, you are done after twenty?” he asks. 

Daniel giggles, “Yeah, I drive fast cars for a living.” 

“Your girlfriend must not be thrilled about your performance.”

Daniel laughs nervously. Max doesn’t join him. Charles bites his lip so as not to snort out, and points at the selection of spices Daniel hasn’t touched once during the cooking. 

“Maybe you could play with the seasoning now,” he says to soften the blow that came from his co-judge. Max moves on to another contestant without saying anything else. 

When Daniel brings them his final dish, Charles says, “It’s bland,” while Max looks him straight into eyes and says, “The chicken is so overcooked I feel like it had been killed years before I was born.” 

Daniel’s palms are sweaty, his jaw keeps ticking. He still laughs, loud, too fake. He sees Max visibly cringe. Even worse, the judges pick the contestants into their teams after that. Max picks him into his blue team as the second-to-last. 

They finish rolling and Daniel practically runs to the changing rooms, speed dialling the head of his marketing team.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

chef!sirius black x reader who is terrible at cooking

The kitchen smelled like a battlefield. Smoke wafted from the stove, and you stared at the pot with a mix of betrayal and confusion. How could cider betray you like this? It was just cider!

Sirius walked in, his black apron already tied around his waist, looking effortlessly in control as always. His hair was in a messy bun, sleeves rolled up, and his eyes scanned the room. The minute he saw the pot, he froze.

“Oh no… What happened here?”

You waved a wooden spoon, attempting to explain. "It just… I don’t know! I followed the recipe! It was literally two ingredients."

Sirius crossed his arms, raising a brow. “Two ingredients, huh? And somehow, you’ve managed to turn it into this.”

“It’s not that bad!”

He sauntered over, peering into the pot. His face twisted as if he'd just seen something truly horrifying. “Not that bad? There’s charcoal at the bottom of this. How do you burn cider? It’s literally two ingredients.”

You felt heat rise to your cheeks—not from the stove but from the embarrassment of being caught in yet another kitchen disaster. "Okay, it got away from me!"

Sirius pinched the bridge of his nose, dramatically sighing. “Got away from you? Cider doesn’t just escape. It’s not some wild racoon running loose in the kitchen.”

You huffed. "If you’re going to be all bossy and smug about it, then maybe I should just let it burn."

He smirked, stepping in behind you, his arms reaching around to take over. “Sorry, love. But lucky for you, I’m here to rescue your—whatever this is.”

You leaned into his presence, the warmth of him taking over the room as he quickly switched off the burner. "You didn’t even let me finish my masterpiece!"

“Sweetheart,” he said, laughing softly, “if this is what your ‘masterpiece’ looks like, I’m filing a restraining order against your cooking.”

You turned to face him, narrowing your eyes. “You’re such a dictator.”

“And you,” he poked your nose with the wooden spoon, leaving a bit of cider residue, “are a menace.”

You wiped your nose with a grin, grabbing a towel to clean off the mess. “Fine, Gordon Ramsay, what’s the verdict?”

He pulled you in by the waist, a playful glint in his eye. “The verdict is that you’re never touching cider again. In fact, stay away from all things stove-related unless you want to burn this place down."

“But I wanted to make something for us! Something cute and tasty-ish,” you pouted.

Sirius kissed your forehead, giving in as he always did when you pulled that look. “How about this: you handle the decorations and leave the cooking to me?”

You feigned offense, gasping dramatically. “Are you saying I’m only good for setting the table?”

He leaned in, his voice dropping to a low whisper. “I’m saying I’ll handle the food, and you can handle being cute.”

You burst out laughing, shoving him lightly. “Oh, you think you’re cute?”

He winked, grabbing an apple from the counter. “I know I’m cute.”

"Bossy and smug. I swear, you’d think this kitchen was your kingdom."

Sirius took a bite of the apple, leaning against the counter, watching you with amusement. “It is my kingdom. And in this kingdom, we don’t burn food, especially cider.”

You rolled your eyes. “Fine, Chef Black. You win this round.”

He pointed to the scorched pot. “This isn’t just a win. It’s an intervention.”

You couldn’t help but laugh again as he started preparing a new batch of cider, expertly slicing the apples and cinnamon sticks. His hands moved with such ease that it almost made you envious—until you remembered the last time you tried to chop an onion and nearly sliced your thumb off.

“Just watch and learn, love,” Sirius teased, catching your eye as he worked. “One day, you’ll master boiling water.”

You tossed a kitchen towel at him. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here you are. Stuck with me.”

"And that too very happily."

got the inspiration of chef!sirius from @ellecdc

[kazoolol]

My Sonic Chef au I drew awhile ago but forgot to post!!!

[ohmygraves]

thinking about chef au

you were new, wanted to work in a restaurant and learned that one of the famous italian restaurants in town was looking for a new employee. you applied, of course, and after a little test and interview, you got accepted to work there. it seems like the owner chef, john price, took a liking to you.

still, the real challenge came from afterwards. everyone looked down on you in the kitchen, as you were new to the industry. you earned yourself the nickname "bambino/bambina" in the kitchen, "bambi" for short, because not only that you were new, you kept making so many rookie mistakes.

working in the kitchen was hellish. hell, everyone called it a battlefield. you didn't even have breaks the first few days, crouching down near the stove eating the employee's lunch in a hurry before continuing to prepare some ingredients. you were exhausted, beyond stressed, and not to mention pissed off with your supervisor, if you could even call him that.

ghost was the one in charge for the pasta section, and you were placed under him. he never let you near the stove, simply barking orders at you to prepare him all the things he needed.

"bambi! did you de-shell the shrimps!?"

"almost done!"

"hurry the fuck up!"

"bene!"

he pissed you off, truthfully. but you can't lie that he's really good at his job. you tasted some of his cooking, he made staff meals a few times, and his food was amazing. even when he's making mistakes, it didn't faze him, simply going back to work.

he's a pro.

some of the chefs said that he's been working there for a long time, and he was really hard to hang out with. he eats with the owner, doesn't want to go out and meet the customers when they ask to see the chef (which actually happened once, he told you to go see the guests on behalf of him). he sometimes could be seen hanging out with the fan favorite wait staff, johnny, and the antipasto chef, kyle.

there was one time when the front staff didn't have enough, too many people were calling off work, and you had to go help outside of the kitchen. price said that it could be a good opportunity to learn, and everyone who is the current kitchen staff used to work in the front as a waitress for about a year before working in the kitchen. you hated it.

sometimes customers picked on you, though johnny helped a lot. he told you how he was here originally to be a chef too, but many regulars came in just to visit him. he didn't leave for the kitchen, staying to entertain the guests. surprisingly, he didn't mind one bit.

"are you always flirting with the guests every single time?"

"jealous, bonnie?"

"hell no."

johnny did flirt with you a few times. he was the only one who didn't call you bambi.

kyle helped you get settled in, since you're both close in age. he was patient and kind, as close to a friend as you could have in the hellish workplace. there was one time you hurt yourself so badly that you were bleeding all over the place. you insisted on working, but he yelled at you, telling you to go to the hospital. he couldn't leave his post, but he got the dishwasher boy to take you there. you ended up going back to work afterwards, wearing many gloves to cover up the bandages.

"sure you're fine?"

"took painkillers... 'm fine..."

"okay, careful with it. don't want blood on the guests' plates."

you didn't meet könig after a while, until that one time while working up front johnny had you go to the dolce section to get more bread. könig was the only one working there, basically a small room at the back of the kitchen, making bread and sweets by himself. you've never seen him, but it's probably because he always eats by himself during break. he's a recluse, awkward with others, but he's damn good when making sweets.

"you work here by yourself?"

"yeah."

"that's amazing. you're so good at making dolce. everyone liked it!"

he didn't say anything afterwards, but there was a faint smile behind his mask as he rolled out some dough to make bread. you made a note to eat with him sometime in the back, if he wanted to that is.

[joshth647]

THE AMAZING DIGITAL CHEFS (CHEF AU) - MASTERPOST + BOUNDARIES

"Welcome to the kitchen, superstars! Here you'll learn to make the most delicious meals of the century, and appeal to our dear customers!"

We've all watched shows where chefs have contests where they try to make the most delicious and appealing meal to please their customers [or something like that] (*cough* Master Chef *cough*)... so why not take the cast of The Amazing Digital Circus and have them be chefs! That's what this AU basically is.

CHARACTER LINEUP:

CHARACTER CARDS:

SILLY STUFF:

THE LAMB SAUCE!! Drawing Dumps She Knows How to Work An Oven Character Card Template The Goober and the Stupid THE LAMB SAUCE!! Redux

COMICS & SKITS:

The Kitchen The Lament Kinger's Problem Pomni's Backstory Jax Being Jax Chitchatting Mini Comic: Pressure

Small Q&A/FAQ:

Q: Are OCs allowed? A: Very much so! Please tag me in your OC's post so I can see your work! Q: Can I make fanart? A: Why, of course! If the fanart is NSFW then use the appropriate CW/TW for your safety! Q: Can I make fanfics? A: Eeyup! Go wild with your writing skills — and PLEASE TAG ME WHEHSHHDHDJDJSJS,,, Q: Can we ship what characters we want? A: Well, where do I start... you can ship anyone with each other as long as it doesn't include either Pomni or Caine (GEHEHEHEHE SHOWTIME RGRHRHEHDHHDHD)! So Ragatha x Jax or Jax x Gangle is allowed, but not Pomni x Jax or Kinger x Caine... please keep that in mind! (Taking a cue from @/sm-baby's Carnival AU here because I am a big Showtime shipper just like them)

Feel free to ask other questions about this AU!

BIG THANK YOU TO @endomentendo FOR INSPIRING ME ON MAKING THIS AU (they made a post on AU ideas)!

[sincerelylancelot]

On Monday morning, Oscar finds a coffee next to his chopping board and a note.

in the firing line || Oscar Piastri/Lando Norris, chef au, 5k

Tags: alternate universe - chefs, thigh humping, the age ol story of line chefs having a favourite waiter

for @ericaisokay !!

[togrowoldinv]

Chef

Natasha Romanoff x Chef!Reader

You’re the head chef at a popular restaurant where Natasha acts as a hostess, bartender, and subject of your flirtation all at once

Note: This is based on the movie Chef! It’s just a short little something to explore this variant of Natasha hehe. Enjoy!

Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 1, Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 2, Main Masterlist

Being a chef has always been your dream. From the day you were born, your parents often joke, you were meant to be in the kitchen.

Your affinity from cooking was only made more intense as you grew up and explored cooking as a real career. You can draw inspiration from almost anywhere and come up with amazing dishes that have no parallel.

At least that’s how it used to be. You started working at fancier restaurants in a new city and somewhere along the way, you lost the freedom to cook what you wanted.

You’re instructing your staff how to prepare for the day when the door opens.

“Y/n,” the voice that you usually enjoy hearing calls out to you. But you can tell she means business and immediate stress washes over you. “Bruce is here.”

“I cannot deal with that right now,” you say. There’s a hint of anger in your tone, but she knows it’s not directed at her.

“I’ll try to delay him, but be ready for him to come back here.”

“Thank you, Nat,” you say as she leaves the kitchen.

It’s a few moments later when you hear the voice of your dreaded boss.

"We’ve got a full house tonight, Chef. You’re making the usual, right?” Bruce asks you. His tone is a bit snarky.

“Actually I was thinking I’d try something-“

"That next word better not be new. You’ll make the menu that works. End of discussion!” Bruce fires back. He’s beginning to get angry, or as you say ‘turn green.’

“The big critic is coming and we can impress him with-“

“This is my restaurant! Not yours! Cook the fucking original menu,” Bruce leaves no room for argument.

"Fine,” you say with a sigh. He smiles at your defeat and you shake your head.

A friendly hand comes to your shoulder. “One of these days, y/n. They’ll see how good your food is,” your colleague and close friend, Wanda, says.

“Thanks Max,” you say genuinely.

You spend the next few minutes briefing the staff on the menu for tonight. It’s the same as always and your staff isn’t any happier then you are about it.

“And for wine pairings please see Natasha,” you finish your instructions. She gives you a soft look as you head back to the kitchen.

The first part of the night goes pretty smoothly. But when a food critic shows up, you grumble again about having to make the same menu.

“It’s alright, y/n,” Wanda says. “We’ll make the best molten lava cake for this jackass.”

You laugh at her and plate the food for the critic as per usual. Your trusty server, Peter, takes the food out to Tony the critic.

Watching from the kitchen, you shake your head at the way he reacts. You can’t tell exactly what he says, but you know it’s no good.

“Peter, come here,” you call for the young man. “What did he say?”

“He- um- he asked why it’s the same food as usual,” Peter says.

“Fucking Bruce,” you say, turning back to the kitchen.

Natasha catches the way you hang your head in defeat. She leaves the host table in Monica’s hands and slips into the kitchen.

“Hey there,” Natasha says, she leans softly into your arm. “You alright?”

“Not really,” you mumble as you keep chopping peppers.

“One more hour and then you’re free,” she says.

You look at her finally and she’s wearing a smirk on her face. You and Nat have made a little bit of a habit of going home together. Nothing tends to happen. You cook her dinner and she enjoys it with some flirting, but nothing more.

“My place?” You ask her quietly.

“Definitely,” she replies.

With that, she leaves you in the kitchen to finish cooking the meal for Tony that you know he’s going to rip into you about in the review article.

By closing time, you’re exhausted. Natasha helps you clean up the kitchen before you go.

Your phone dings and you dread looking at it.

“Let me see it,” Natasha says, holding her hand out. You’re reluctant. “Come on. Rip off the bandaid.”

You hand her your phone and her eyes scan the article while you grab your keys and lock up.

“So, how was it?” You ask her once you’re walking to your car together.

“Not great,” Nat says honestly. You sigh and open the door for her. She slides into the passenger side. “But don’t worry,” she adds once you’re in the car as well.

“I always worry,” you say, leaning your head back on the seat.

“I know,” Natasha says. A frown forms on her beautiful lips. “You know what?”

“Hm?”

“I’m starving,” she says.

You smile and start the car. “I can do something about that.”

At some point during the drive, Natasha’s hand comes to your thigh. Something about tonight feels different.

She makes herself comfortable at the bar across from you as you cook her one of your signature meals.

“Here you are, my lady,” you say, placing the plate in front of her.

Natasha takes a bite and as per usual she loves it.

“Good?”

“Great,” she says, a certain breathiness to her voice that threatens to make you kiss her right then and there. “Join me.”

You sit next to her and enjoy your own serving.

“This is the kind of stuff I want to cook at the restaurant,” you tell her. “Not that stuffy menu Bruce requires.”

“He doesn’t know shit about restaurants,” Nat adds.

“One day I’m going to do it. I’m going to walk in there and make my menu,” you say. Nat watches you with an amused smirk. “To hell with him.”

You catch her smirking at you and feel a heat creep up your neck.

“You’re really adorable when you get to ranting like this,” Natasha says.

“Oh, thanks,” you reply shyly.

Nat turns to you and her hands take each side of your face. She leans in.

“Can I kiss you?” She asks. Her voice is raspy and you can smell her perfume.

“Please,” you say.

She closes the distance and her lips find yours. It starts out slow but quickly she’s deepening the kiss, the result of all of the pining for each other.

“Natasha,” you whisper against her lips, breathless from the kiss.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” she says.

“Me too,” you say.

You kiss her this time, taking your time to feel her against you.

“Take me to bed, chef?” She asks.

You grin at her and she pulls you off the stool and towards your bedroom.

As long as you have Natasha on your side, it doesn’t matter what any critic in the world says. And she will always be on your side.

[firenati0n]

several sentence sunday <3 :)

hello my friends <3 thank you to @thinkof-england @littlemisskittentoes @porcelainmortal @magicandarchery @msmarvelouswinchester @getmehighonmagic @piratefalls @itsmaybitheway @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @nocoastposts @theprinceandagcd @dragonflylady77 @onthewaytosomewhere @duchessdepolignaca03 @priincebutt @captainjunglegym for the tags :) :) early birds dangggg!!

here's a snip from my au of the bear but it's a character study on alex (spoke about it a bit during a wip game here). this is chef alex aka carmy!alex:

Alex dices and slices and chops and juliennes, the top edge of the knife digging into his index finger and leaving a deep pink indent—physical proof of his hard work. Something tangible to hold on to, as real as the vegetables neatly stacked in front of him, as true as the erratic pulse he can feel in his fingertips. He leans into the sharp pain, his wrist aching and finger throbbing from the speed. His back is curled into himself, crowding his body over the kitchen counter, errant curls falling into his eyes as his knife moves at lighting speed, struggling to keep up with his racing thoughts. "You gotta come home, Alex." Alex's knife picks up at a punishing pace.  “Mom needs you. I need you.” Everybody wants something. He's not sure how much he has left to give, to slice off of his heart and serve up. Ugly presentation.

xoxo roop

+ no pressure tags under the cut and open tag as always <3 please tag me if you use, i want to see :)

@ninzied @cha-melodius @sparklepocalypse @cricketnationrise @orchidscript @myheartalivewrites @welcometololaland @anincompletelist @tintagel-or-cockleshells @sherryvalli @lizzie-bennetdarcy @heysweetheart-writes @inexplicablymine @onward--upward @celeritas2997 @14carrotghoul @cultofsappho @anchoredarchangel @candyspandemonium @nontoxic-writes @junebugclaremontdiaz @violetbaudelaire-quagmire @bigassbowlingballhead @alasse9 @ships-to-sail @kiwiana-writes @wordsofhoneydew @indestructibleheart @tailsbeth-writes @suseagull04 @rmd-writes @leaves-of-laurelin @eusuntgratie @adreamareads

[batneko]

once again these two completely fail to keep a proper work-life balance.

[rest of the chef AU can be found here!]

[siriuslyelio]

okay guys….i’m going to branch out and introduce my fic to you all bc i need motivation to keep writing it and when i talk about it i feel like i can write again

so it’s a muggle au in which sirius is a chef and has severe OCD (it’s from his perspective so his compulsions are kind of floating around everywhere as the story takes place)

sirius is a classically trained french chef that has a nasty reputation…they call him ‘the dog’ because of a very hushed event that happened in his kitchen once

remus lupin is a much feared food critic with far too much sway in the restaurant industry…who shows up completely unannounced and asks sirius to join him for a glass of wine before he’ll taste his food

sirius hate him…because damnit he’s so beautiful….

also noteworthy: background jegulus, rosekiller, and pandalily yippee yippee

fic: dance with your ghost (in the kitchen) ~ thedorkfish

i have edited post and added the link for those asking!

[dread-red-queen]

🚫 Do Not Re-Upload/Edit My Shots/Art Without My Permission🚫

[Bluesky][Pillowfort][Instagram][Tumblr][AO3][Nexus][Ko-Fi[Discord]

More Fan Fiction Fan art this time of Spite as a cat from the Dragon Age: The Veilgaurd - Modern Chef AU - Knife's Edge by craving_peach_rings another fantastic AU Rookanis Fic I highly recommend.

[jincapableoflove]

A Recipe for Love (Part 3)

Pairing: Jimin x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: baker/chef! jimin, baker/chef! reader, forbidden romance, angst, fluff, potential smut

Series summary: As their town announces its first-ever baking competition, Kim Y/n and Park Jimin find themselves pairing up to participate. However, the generations-old feud between their families prevents them from doing so. In order to avoid stirring up further animosity between their families, Jimin and Y/n must be secretive. Will Jimin and Y/n be able to be stealthy enough to navigate their days practising and testing out recipes for the competition, without their family members finding out?

Word count: 1.6k

Chapter Warnings: none.

A/N: tysm for all the support so far<3 this chapter is a bit of a filler before the real deal (which will take place in the next chapter) but its needed to understand the remaining chapters.

Part 3: Bittersweet Confections

Y/N

My spirit was dampened after learning about my sad fate. I wasn't the kind of person to dwell on disappointments for too long, but something about losing this incredible opportunity for our bakery put me in a sour mood. Our little bakehouse had been among the many businesses that suffered during the COVID-19 pandemic, and despite our efforts, we still hadn't fully regained momentum. This competition would have been the perfect chance to attract more customers and breathe life back into our shop.

But beyond just wanting to draw in customers, there was an ache in my chest that refused to subside. A void that only deepened every time I thought of someone who would have wanted to participate in this more than anything. And I couldn't even represent them in this competition.

I let out a frustrated sigh. Sitting around and sulking wouldn't do me any good. I needed to do something—go somewhere—to lift my mood. And where better than my sweet cousin Jeongguk's house?

Jeongguk lived with his family in a small yet cozy house about a 20-minute drive from mine. Despite having his own spacious bedroom and bath, the boy practically lived in the guest room at my apartment. Giving him a spare key when I first moved in had been the worst decision ever—I basically had no privacy in my own home.

After dropping off my groceries at my apartment, I drove to Jeongguk's place. I probably should have called ahead to check if he was home, but the loud music blasting all the way to his driveway made it obvious that he was.

I didn't bother knocking. Having visited the Jeons countless times, I knew exactly where they kept the spare key—tucked under the sole of a lone boot in the front yard. Without hesitation, I retrieved it, threw open the door, and rushed inside, heading straight upstairs to tackle my unsuspecting cousin.

If I couldn't participate in the competition, then at the very least, I could take my frustration out on him.

"Wha—AHH! Y/N! STOP!" Jeongguk screeched as I mercilessly tickled him, my fingers digging into his ribs.

"Plea—PLEASE, Y/N-IE! HAHAHA—STOP, I CAN'T—!" he pleaded through gasping laughs, writhing beneath me, but I showed no mercy.

After what felt like an eternity (but was probably just a couple of minutes), I finally relented, plopping onto his bed with a satisfied grin. Jeongguk lay beside me, still heaving, his limbs sprawled out in exhaustion.

"What happened to you?" he asked after catching his breath. "You seem weirdly happy today, cous."

I guess I did a good job of masking my disappointment because he hadn't noticed my dampened mood—until now.

I forced a small smile, but before I could answer, he tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly. "Wait... is this about that competition?"

My forced composure cracked. My shoulders slumped.

"I can't participate," I admitted, the weight of the words pressing down on my chest.

Jeongguk shot up in alarm. "What?! Why?!"

"I have no one to go with," I sighed. "No one qualified enough between the ages of 18 and 30, at least. Even Jin isn't available."

"Can't Jin-hyung make it back just in time?" he asked, clearly grasping at straws.

"No," I shook my head. "His semester finals start soon. He's been studying nonstop for them."

"There's seriously no one else?"

"I haven't really thought about it, Gguk-ah," I admitted. "But I doubt there's anyone who would make a good team with me. If only you were as good at baking as you were at cooking."

Jeongguk sighed, running a hand through his hair. He knew there was no point in pushing further. The opportunity was lost. Instead of pressing the matter, he leaned forward and wrapped me in a warm hug.

I realized then that maybe I was making a bigger deal out of this than necessary. Opportunities come and go. Maybe next year there'd be another competition where Jin could participate with me—or one where I could compete individually.

Thinking this, I pulled away from the hug and gave him a small smile. "Thanks, Gguk. You always know how to make me feel better."

Before he could respond, the doorbell rang, startling us both.

Jeongguk and I exchanged confused glances before heading downstairs. The moment he opened the door, a 16-year-old girl in her school uniform pushed past him, threw her bag onto the floor, and stormed upstairs.

The next thing we heard was the loud slam of her bedroom door.

"JEON JIA!" Jeongguk shouted, his voice laced with frustration as he chased after her.

I stood there, still processing what had just happened, before sighing and following them upstairs.

"Jia! How dare you slam the door?!" Jeongguk fumed, pounding on her door. "Did you think you could get away with this just because Mom and Dad aren't home?"

I placed a calming hand on his shoulder. "Maybe you should ask her what's wrong first, Jeongguk."

He huffed but stepped aside as I knocked gently. "Jia? We're worried about you. Can you open the door?"

No response.

"Jia, please?"

Silence.

I tried again. "I'll bake you choco-chip cookies."

A pause.

Then the door creaked open slightly.

Suppressing a triumphant smirk, I pushed the door fully open and stepped inside. Jia sat cross-legged on her bed, looking simultaneously angry, annoyed, and frustrated.

"I'm telling Mom about this," Jeongguk grumbled.

"Gguk-ah, stop," I sighed. "Let's hear her out first."

I turned to Jia, my voice soft yet firm. "What happened?"

She let out an exaggerated groan, pulling at her hair in frustration before dramatically exclaiming, "IT'S ALL BECAUSE OF THAT ASSHOLE!"

Jeongguk and I blinked. "Who?" we asked in unison.

"PARK BEOMGYU!"

Jeongguk stiffened. "What did that boy do this time?"

Jia sniffled dramatically. "He stuffed my locker with live spiders."

I burst into laughter.

Both siblings turned to me, eyes filled with betrayal.

"That's it? He stuffed your locker with spiders?" I teased.

"They were ALIVE, Y/N!" Jia huffed.

"So? It's just a silly prank," I shrugged. "It's not like you're even scared of spiders."

Jia fumed. "That's not the point! It was PARK BEOMGYU."

Oh. So that's what this was about.

The Park family—the ones we Kims were supposedly supposed to hate. Jia and Beomgyu go to the same school and constantly infuriate each other by pulling silly pranks like this. I never understood how a feud so trivial could last over generations. Beomgyu was the fourth or fifth descendant of the founder of Park's Bakehouse for crying out loud!

"There you go again, Y/N," Jeongguk sighed. "Always defending the Parks."

"I don't see a reason to hate them, that's all."

"Ugh, you'll understand one day," Jia grumbled.

I rolled my eyes. "Mhm, sure."

"And you know what, Y/N?" Jia began again, with a sly smirk on her face, "Jin is prettier than you."

"WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?!" I grabbed a pillow and started hitting her with it. "Take that back, you brat! How can you call Jin prettier than me?!" She squealed trying to move away from me and grabbing a pillow to hit me with in the process. Jeongguk who stood there watching us, joined right after.

The pillow fight ended almost 10 minutes later after I managed to push Jeongguk and Jia off the bed. We were still giggling and laughing from the aftermath of the impromptu pillow fight.

When Jeongguk's parents arrived home from work, I decided it was time for me to make my way back home. I left after greeting Uncle Jeon and kissing my aunt on the cheek.

As I was driving back home, I realized that my time spent at Jeongguk's house had successfully distracted me from my sorrow. The laughter, the playful banter, and the ridiculous pillow fight had all temporarily lifted the weight off my chest. But now that I was alone again, the thoughts came flooding back, pressing down on me like a heavy fog I couldn't escape.

My grip tightened around the steering wheel when my phone rang, my dad's name flashing on the screen. I sighed before answering, already knowing what was coming.

"Y/N-ah... I just wanted to say that I'm really sorry about the competition. I know how much this meant to you."

I forced a small hum in response, not trusting my voice. But Dad wasn't finished. "You know... your mom always dreamed of participating in a competition like this. She would have been so proud to see you represent her."

And just like that, the fragile composure I had built up during the evening cracked.

A lump formed in my throat. I swallowed it down, gripping the steering wheel tighter. "I know, Dad..." I whispered. But knowing didn't make it any easier.

His words echoed in my mind long after the call ended. I felt like I was letting her down. Like I was failing her dream. The bakery was struggling, and this could have been our chance. And I wasn't even able to try.

As if the universe wanted to twist the knife deeper, my phone rang again. This time, it was Grandma.

"Y/N, this is such a disappointment! An opportunity like this doesn't come every day. If only there was another way..."

I sighed. "I know, Grandma. I really tried. There's just no one else who—"

"Nonsense! I'll talk to the mayor myself. He'll have to make an exception for you."

I let out a humorless chuckle. "You know that won't work. The mayor never changes his decisions. If he wants it to be a duo, a duo it shall be."

Grandma clicked her tongue in disapproval but didn't push further. "You should rest, dear. You've been through a lot today."

I murmured a quiet goodnight before hanging up. But rest didn't come easy. My thoughts swirled endlessly, drowning me in frustration and disappointment.

That night, I went to bed dreaming of standing on the competition stage, my heart swelling with pride as I showcased my skills. But even in my dreams, the painful truth crept in—I had no partner. And without a partner, my dreams would remain just that—dreams.

<- Part 2 | Series Masterlist | Part 4 ->