#gordon ramsay x reader

[mundoloucasso]

A/N: Honestly, I have no idea why I wrote this. I saw a Gordon Ramsay edit on TikTok and just had to channel my inner chef! 🍳😅 This is just a work of fan fiction. It is not intended to offend anyone.

Title: Unrequited No More

Summary: A secretary's hidden love for her boss, Gordon Ramsay, is met with jealousy and desire, leading to an explosive revelation.

Pairing: Gordon Ramsay × Fem! Reader

Warnings: Jealousy.

________________

You watched as Ramsay posed for the photographer, effortlessly exuding confidence and charm. The famous London magazine had chosen him for a feature, and it was no surprise. He looked every bit the part of a successful, sophisticated chef. As his personal secretary and driver, you stood on the sidelines, silently admiring him.

Why did he have to be so handsome? you thought, your eyes tracing the strong lines of his jaw, the way his blonde hair caught the light, and the ease with which he commanded the room. You had to keep reminding yourself that he was out of your league, and that left you a little discouraged, but that was the reality. You were nothing, just a secretary, while he could date any woman he wanted—rich, tall, beautiful, and blonde.

Your gaze lingered on him, watching the way he interacted with the crew, his voice carrying easily across the room. He joked with the photographer, his laughter infectious, and you couldn't help but smile. But that smile quickly faded as you remembered his date scheduled for that night with some model. You had written it down in his diary that morning, as he had asked you to.

"Make sure to remind me about dinner tonight," he had said, flashing you that charming smile that always made your heart flutter. "I've got a date with that model—what's her name again?"

"Claudia," you had replied, trying to keep your tone professional. "Dinner at 8 pm at The Savoy."

"Right, Claudia," he had repeated, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. "Thanks, love. Couldn't keep my schedule straight without you."

You had forced a smile, nodding as you made a note in his diary. "Of course, Mr. Ramsay. Anything else you need?"

"That's all for now," he had said, giving you a wink. "Don't know what I'd do without you."

Now, as you watched him, those words echoed in your mind. You couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy and sadness. He had everything—a successful career, wealth, and the ability to charm anyone he met. Meanwhile, you were just the one keeping his life organized, silently longing for something more.

He could have any woman he wanted, and it wasn't difficult for him to have whoever he desired. The way he carried himself, the way he looked—everything about him screamed confidence and success. You felt small in comparison, insignificant.

The photo shoot wrapped up, and Ramsay walked over to you, a grin on his face. "How did I do?" he asked, his voice full of playful arrogance.

"You were perfect, as always," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

"Thanks, love," he said, patting your shoulder. "Couldn't have done it without you."

You smiled weakly, your heart aching with unspoken feelings. "You're welcome, Mr. Ramsay."

"Don't forget to remind me about that dinner tonight," he said, his eyes twinkling. "Wouldn't want to stand Claudia up."

"I won't forget," you promised, feeling a heavy weight in your chest.

As you drove him back to his next appointment, you couldn't help but steal glances at him in the rearview mirror. Why did he have to be so perfect? And why did you have to fall for someone who was so clearly out of your reach? The reality was harsh, but it was all you had. For now, you would continue to be the best secretary you could be, even if it meant hiding your true feelings behind a professional facade.

Hours later, you said goodbye to Ramsay, making sure he was ready for his date before you left. "Don't forget, Mr. Ramsay, dinner at 8 pm with Claudia at The Savoy," you reminded him, forcing a smile as he adjusted his tie in the mirror.

"Thanks, love," he said, giving you that charming smile that always made your heart skip a beat. "I'll see you tomorrow."

You nodded and left, feeling the weight of the day's emotions pressing down on you. As you tiredly entered your apartment, you threw yourself on the couch, letting out a deep sigh. The apartment was quiet, a stark contrast to the bustling energy of Ramsay's world. You closed your eyes, trying to shake off the lingering thoughts of him.

Suddenly, your cell phone rang, and you picked it up instantly, hoping it was Ramsay. But it was just your group of friends, planning to go out that night to a nightclub. They were asking you to join them at the new club that had opened recently, a place that had been crowded the last few weeks.

You hesitated, biting your lip. It had been a while since you went out to have fun, being too worried about work and the bills to pay. But you deserved to have fun once in a while, didn't you? Maybe it would be good, maybe it would get your mind off Ramsay and the damn date he was having.

You typed out a quick response, accepting the invitation. "Alright, I'll join you guys tonight. What time are we meeting?"

"Fantastic! Meet us at 9 pm at the club," came the enthusiastic reply.

You glanced at the clock, realizing you had a couple of hours to get ready. Standing up, you felt a surge of excitement mixed with nervousness. It had been too long since you'd let loose and enjoyed yourself. Tonight could be a chance to forget about Ramsay, if only for a few hours.

Heading to your bedroom, you rummaged through your closet, looking for the perfect outfit. You settled on a sleek black dress that hugged your curves just right, pairing it with your favorite heels. As you applied your makeup, you felt a sense of anticipation building. Tonight, you were going to focus on having a good time and leaving your worries behind.

With a final touch of lipstick, you looked at yourself in the mirror, feeling a newfound confidence. You were more than just a secretary; you were a woman who deserved to enjoy life. And tonight, you were going to do just that.

Grabbing your purse, you headed out the door, ready to meet your friends and embrace the night. The music, the laughter, and the energy of the club awaited you, promising a brief escape from the reality of your unrequited feelings. As you walked down the street, you couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope. Maybe tonight, you would find a way to move on from Ramsay and discover a new side of yourself.

Later that evening, you found yourself standing outside the club with your three friends. The neon lights illuminated the bustling street, and the thumping bass of the music from inside the club sent vibrations through the ground. As you approached, you were met with a long line of people waiting to get in.

"Wow, look at that line," one of your friends, Emily, exclaimed, her eyes wide with disbelief. "There's no way we're getting in with that huge line!"

Your other friend, Sarah, rolled her eyes and grinned confidently. "Relax, ladies. I know the bouncer. He owes me a favor. We'll get in, no problem."

The three of you exchanged doubtful looks but decided to trust Sarah. She led the way, weaving through the crowd with determination. The line seemed to stretch on forever, and you couldn't help but feel a little skeptical. But as you got closer to the entrance, Sarah's confident stride didn't waver.

When you finally reached the front, the bouncer's stern expression softened as soon as he saw Sarah. "Hey, Sarah," he greeted her with a nod.

"Hey, Mike," Sarah replied with a wink. "Think you can do me a solid and let us through?"

Mike glanced at the line behind you and then back at Sarah. "For you? Always," he said, lifting the velvet rope and motioning for the four of you to enter.

You and your friends cheered excitedly, your earlier doubts melting away. "Thanks, Mike!" you shouted as you walked past him, laughing and high-fiving each other.

Once inside, the club's vibrant atmosphere enveloped you. The flashing lights, the pounding music, and the sea of dancing bodies created an intoxicating energy. You felt a rush of excitement as you made your way to the dance floor with your friends.

"This is amazing!" Emily shouted over the music, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "We have to find some hot guys tonight!"

"I second that!" your third friend, Lily, chimed in, her smile wide. "Let's dance and have some fun!"

You laughed, feeling a sense of liberation wash over you. The weight of your feelings for Ramsay seemed to lighten with each passing moment. "Let's do it!" you agreed, raising your glass in a toast. "To a night of fun and forgetting our worries!"

As the four of you hit the dance floor, the music pulsed through your veins, and the worries of the day faded away. You moved to the beat, letting the rhythm take over, and for the first time in a long while, you felt truly free. The night was young, and the possibilities were endless. And maybe, just maybe, you'd find a way to move on from Ramsay and embrace a new chapter in your life.

You had fun with your friends, drinking, talking, and laughing, but you couldn't help feeling a little jealous at how easily they found guys to talk to while you were alone at the table, nursing your martini. Watching Emily and Sarah flirt and laugh with a couple of handsome men, you felt a pang of loneliness. Despite your best efforts, you couldn't shake the thoughts of Ramsay that kept creeping back into your mind.

"Why am I thinking about him?" you muttered to yourself, scolding your thoughts. You downed the entire glass of your martini, feeling the alcohol's warmth spread through you. "No more moping," you decided, standing up with newfound determination. "I'm here to have fun."

You made your way to the dance floor, the music thumping through your body. You let the rhythm take over, moving to the beat and losing yourself in the crowd. The flashing lights, the pulsing bass, it all felt liberating. You danced with abandon, not caring about anything in the world.

Suddenly, you felt a pair of hands on your hips. You turned around to see an unfamiliar but handsome man smiling at you. He had dark hair and a chiseled jawline, and his eyes held a mischievous glint. You didn't care who he was; you just wanted to keep dancing.

The dance became more sensual as you ground against him, his hands firmly on your hips. You felt a rush of excitement and adrenaline, letting go of your inhibitions. The man's grip tightened slightly, and you felt a thrill at the connection.

But just as quickly, his hands let go, and you were pulled into a solid chest. You protested, turning to see who had interrupted your dance, but your words caught in your throat when you looked up and saw Ramsay. "What the hell are you doing here?" you blurted out, your surprise mingling with the alcohol-induced haze.

Ramsay's face was a mask of fury, but his anger wasn't directed at you. He glared at the man you had been dancing with, his eyes blazing. "Stay away from her," he warned, his voice carrying over the music. The man raised his hands in surrender, stepping back.

"Sorry, mate," the man said, his tone apologetic. "Didn't know she was accompanied."

As the man walked away, you looked up at Ramsay, confused and still a bit drunk. "Why did you do that?" you demanded, your voice slurring slightly. "I was having fun!"

Ramsay didn't answer immediately, his grip on your arm firm but not painful. "Come on," he said, pulling you off the dance floor. "We're leaving."

"No!" you protested, trying to pull away. "I want to dance!"

Ramsay stopped and looked at you, his eyes intense. "You're drunk," he said, his voice softer but still firm. "And you're coming with me."

You pouted and walked away from him, heading back to the dance floor, determined to have a good time. You heard Ramsay's irritated sigh behind you, but you ignored it, losing yourself in the music once more. Moments later, you felt his hand grip your arm again, more forcefully this time. He bent down, his breath hot against your ear as he spoke.

"You are fucking coming with me," he growled, his voice laced with anger. "Even if I have to carry you out of this damn club."

You pulled away from him, glaring up at him defiantly. "Why the hell are you here, Ramsay?" you shouted over the music. "Weren't you supposed to be on a damn date with that model?"

Ramsay's jaw tightened, his eyes blazing with a mix of frustration and jealousy. "Yeah, the worst fucking date of my life," he admitted, his voice dripping with disdain. "That woman couldn't hold a decent conversation if her life depended on it. I was bored out of my mind."

You felt a pang of confusion and a flicker of hope. "Then why did you even invite her?" you demanded, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and curiosity.

Ramsay’s expression darkened, a mixture of anger and something else—something more vulnerable. "I invited her because I was trying to make you jealous, you idiot," he admitted, his voice low and filled with bitterness. "But you didn’t even fucking react. I left her at the table, bored out of my skull, just to come here and drown my sorrows. And what do I find? You, dancing with another man, looking like you’re having the time of your life."

The intensity of his words made your head spin. "You wanted to make me jealous?" you asked, incredulous.

He leaned closer, his voice a harsh whisper. "Yes, damn it. I wanted to see if you felt anything for me. But here you are, letting some random guy put his hands all over you." His eyes flashed with jealousy. "I won’t have it. Not when I…"

You frowned, confusion and hurt warring within you. "Not when you what, Ramsay? What do you care who I dance with?"

His grip tightened, and his eyes bored into yours. "Because I care about you, you idiot. I’ve cared for a long time. Seeing you with someone else makes me want to rip my hair out."

Your heart pounded in your chest as his words sank in. "You… care about me?" you repeated, struggling to process his confession.

"Yes," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "And seeing you like this, with another man’s hands on you, makes me lose my fucking mind."

You stared at him, the world spinning around you. The club’s loud music and flashing lights seemed to fade into the background as you focused on Ramsay’s intense gaze. "I didn’t know," you whispered, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes. "I thought you didn’t see me that way."

His grip softened, and he cupped your face in his hands. "How could I not see you that way? You’re everything to me," he said, his voice tender now. "I’ve just been too much of a coward to tell you."

Your heart swelled with emotion, and you leaned into his touch. "Gordon, I…"

Before you could finish, he pulled you into a fierce kiss, his lips capturing yours with a desperate need. The kiss was rough and possessive, filled with all the emotions he had been holding back. You responded in kind, pouring all your pent-up feelings into the kiss.

When he finally pulled back, you were both breathless. "Let’s get out of here," he said, his voice husky. "I don’t want to share you with anyone else tonight."

You nodded, feeling a sense of clarity and relief. "Okay," you whispered. "Let’s go."

As he led you out of the club, you felt a rush of anticipation. This was the beginning of something new, something real. And for the first time in a long while, you felt like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

[celestie0]

gordon ramsay x reader where he slaps the raw chicken in demonstration of how he will be slapping your ass later tonight

[dipperscavern]

speaking of assertive cregan and neck stuff, i think if he ever sees you being bratty, a glove is coming off and that paw he calls a hand is going straight to covering your whole neck. the wolf instinct comes over him and he's holding you like a direwolf holding a pup by the scruff. his thumb creeps into your hairline and rubs circles there while his grip gets tighter. the first time he did it was mid-convo in front of other people and it was so humiliating for you. not because it's embarrassing that he's scolding you like this but because this is what he does when you're on your knees crying from wanting to blow him AAHHH i need him 🫦

i had to put down my phone and genuinely run laps around the block after reading this. “the paw he calls a hand” 🫦🫦 i’m naming you gordon ramsay anon because this is DELICIOUS. THIS IS SO YUMMY. ARF ARFA RF (btw i stole a sentence from u i’m sorry it was too good become a writer)

sometimes the glove doesn’t even come off. you just make a snarky comment, or start giving attitude in the middle of something important & he just reaches over, leaning closer to put a gloved hand over the back of your neck. its not even to embarrass you, it’s truly your reset button. it’s just habit for cregan, when a direwolf pup is acting up to hold them by the scruff. and what do you know, you’re the same way.

he doesn’t even break eye contact with the men he’s speaking with, and the men he’s speaking with don’t say anything. they barely bat an eye. someone asks you a question, and you hesitate in your response, lost in his touch. his thumb creeps into your hairline, beginning to rub small circles as his grip tightens to elicit a response front you. you eventually pull yourself together, stammering a response that you hope is sufficient to get their attention focused on something else. they exchange small looks, before clearing their throats and continuing. cregans grip loosens slightly, going back to just comfortably resting.

his hand is big. the weight of it & warmth seeping through his glove makes you dizzy. you get distracted, remembering the last time he had a hand on your neck was when you were on your knees in front of him.

[creepytortellini]

Jeff the Killer: GO TO SLEEP

Gordon Ramsay: Fuck off

Jeff the Killer: Yes chef

[drunk-cryptic-witch]

Gordon Ramsey: Look I don’t yell at kids

Gordon Ramsey: *holding up bakugo like a cat* This little fucker is an exception

[sailorsenshishitposter]

Lady x Reader

I swear I thought I uploaded this but apparently not. Highly cursed so enjoy.

Lady

You and Lady were at devil may cry, waiting for Dante so he could give Lady what he owed her. In case he went down fighting you had a sealed jar of olives and a water gun filled with holy water. You had been standing there for 20 minutes and said "I'll go see what's taking him so long." and you then climbed up the stair case. You knocked down the door with your boot and held the water gun in the air only to drop it and stare in confusion and horror. To your disgust, Dante was making out with his body pillow of Guy Fieri and was moaning something about going to flavor town. Your eyes made contact and then you ran back downstairs to where Lady was. Before she could ask what happened you shouted "INTERVENTION. NOW!".

You weren't sure on how to go about this so Lady called Vergil and informed him of the situation. Suddenly there was a flash of light as something made a cut in the air and the older twin popped out. "I can't believe I'm doing this..." he grumbled. You all waited until Dante was sleeping and then ambushed his room. You held the water gun and yelled "DON'T MOVE OR I'LL SHOOT!". Dante was about to question what was going on when Vergil sat down next to him. "Brother... Your friends called me and I think it's time we had a talk. You know Guy Fieri is never going to get rid of the restraining order don't you? Why don't you just hand me the pillow."

Dante hugged his body pillow tighter and yelled "YOU TOLD HIM?! YOU TRAITORS!". Vergil put a hand on his brothers shoulder. "It's alright Dante, we're not here to laugh at you. I understand. I used to have a crush on Gordon Ramsay.". Dante laughed at his brother and said "man you have shit taste in husbandos huh? Well then, if you want it, then you'll have to take it!" Vergil unsheathed Yamato and said "That's fine by me." and then quickly stabbed his brother in the chest.Lady picked them up by the back of their coats  and said "Fighting is for outside, you know the rules! Now you're both being put in the time out room!" She dragged them to the bathroom and set each twin in a corner. "Now think about what you've done" she said as she locked the door. Vergil then started to claw at it pleading for her to let him out because Dantes toilet was clogged and he refuses to be in a room with "two pieces of putrid waste". Dante then sniffed at his armpit and yelled "HEY! I HAD A BATH LAST WEEK, I'M NOT THAT DIRTY!"

They both began to squabble and the two of you decided you would just rob Dante and take some money out of the cash register. You opened it up only to be greeted by spiderwebs. Lady then dragged you outside and got a can of gasoline. She lit a match and soon all of devil may cry was burning. You looked at Lady and said "Good thing Dante has house insurance."

[whatitshouldvebeen]

Gordon Ramsay x Reader Slow Burn Dom/Sub FF

Yes, I'm serious. It has about a million reads on assorted fanfiction websites, so trust me and them when I say you'll love it

Click for the previous chapter

Monday, June 24th, 2013

The other contestants and I gather at the entrance to the airport, waiting inside for further instructions–Monday airport traffic is no joke. Cars line up outside and throngs of people weave their way through each other, toting suitcases. That's not to say the airport lobby of Los Angeles is not stunning; the tall glass windows allow for the beautiful day's sunlight to shine through.

I take this time to examine my competition. There are fifteen other chefs aside from myself that are going to be competing against each other this season–eight men and eight women. Most of them are sitting in the airport lobby chairs, idly chatting to one another. I stand to the side of the chairs, leaning on the handle of my rolling suitcase. Thinking back to past seasons, I wonder which chefs were put here to stir up drama. My wondering is cut short with an uncanny interruption.

A woman with bleached blonde hair, dressed in a low-cut floral top and a short white skirt gathers everyone's attention. Or at least, the attention of the people who weren't already staring at her nearly exposed breasts.

"Oh my GOD can you guys believe it!" She bounces in place, her boobs jiggling, "I'm like, actually here. Of all the applicants I got picked! I can't wait to see which of you makes it to the final five with me."

She pauses, then grins wickedly like the Cheshire cat.

"Should be real easy, my competition doesn't look very... fierce." Her eyes quickly flit about the contestants, stopping on me for what seems to be a second longer than the others.

One of the few to not be at a loss for words is a middle-aged, stout, and bald man who scoffs at her.

"This is Hell's Kitchen, not Keeping Up with the Kardashians. Unless you keep your cooking skill in those tits then I doubt you'll make it to the final five with that self-absorbed attitude. This is a team game."

His voice is commanding, and surprisingly the blonde looks sheepish at being talked down to. By the time that a tall man in a suit approaches us, she hasn't managed to come up with a snarky retort.

"Hell's Kitchen contestants?" He questions the group. After seeing our collective nods he continues. "Please follow me." He turns and walks towards the sliding glass doors, exiting the airport.

Our bustling group happily follow him to a sleek black limousine with the initials "HK" branded on the side parked outside the loading gate. We all look giddily at each other. Excitement buzzes through my body as I lock eyes with the girl next to me, her brown curls bouncing in place as she jitters. We both give a shy grin, recognizing the other's excitement. As we approach the limo, the driver opens the door and lets us inside.

The limo is plush and cozy and there is an icebox with a bottle of champagne situated in the middle. The driver introduces himself as Paul and passes out champagne glasses to all of us before he takes his seat at the front and begins the drive to Hell's Kitchen. A few eyes lock onto the champagne bottle, but no one seems to have the confidence to crack it open.

The girl who had stood next to me earlier slides in next to me with a breathless, "Hey!"

"Hi!" I grin. "I'm (Y/N), and you?"

"Taylor." She returns the smile. She has a string of piercings up her ears, some hoops and some studs. Her hazel eyes shine with joy, the browns nearly matching her light tan skin tone.

"Are you as nervous as me?" I ask, my heartbeat in my ears as we pull up to a red light.

"Totally. This doesn't feel real, I've never been in a competition, much less on TV. I know my bro won't let me live it down if I don't do my best, so I'm trying to ignore my jitters. Can't let nerves interfere with my work." She lets out a puff of air and glances around the limo.

One of the younger men; green-eyed, thin, with messy ruffled brown hair, takes hold of the champagne bottle. "We can't let this go to waste, guys!" He says, opening it swiftly and pouring glasses for everyone with finesse. His winning smile is contagious as he confidently leads us all in a discussion of where we'd come from to get here, and cracks a few jokes. Soon enough all of us are smiling and laughing.

After about thirty minutes of driving the lights of the tinted window limo go out, leaving us in partial darkness. The chatter dies down and everyone looks around confused. A small TV flips open above the window between the driver and us contestants. On that TV is none other than Chef Ramsay, wearing his striking white head chef jacket with his arms crossed over his chest in his signature pose.

"Good afternoon, Hell's Kitchen contestants! I hope you all are enjoying yourselves on your trip to Hell, because things are about to get a lot less luxurious. As soon as you arrive, I expect you to hop in the kitchen and begin work on THE signature dish of yours that you are," he adamantly shakes his fist, "MOST proud of." The passion in his eyes burns in a way that can be felt through the screen. All of us are silent, at rapt attention. I feel my heart flutter at how fervently he encourages us. If he's anything like this in person, it'll be easy to be motivated by his words alone.

"You have forty-five minutes from the moment you arrive to complete your signature dish. The red and blue team will be competing, so be sure your dish impresses if you want your team to win. I will meet you all as soon as you've finished. Good luck, contestants." He turns his back to us as the screen folds up and the lights turn back on.

We are silent for a few seconds when the woman sitting next to the screen says, "Gee, he sure is intimidating."

She is so small that–when squished into a stretch limo with fifteen other people–she may as well get lost in the cushions. Her curly red hair frames her pale white face, and she has freckles across her nose that stand out when her skin drains of color, as it is now.

The man to her left, somewhat built, brown-eyed and black-haired with a buzz cut wraps his muscled arm around her shoulder, rapidly bringing color to her cheeks.

"Chin up Red!" He exclaims. "Ya wanna be brave when you talk to Ramsay. Even if you're scared, don't show 'em that ya are."

She nods delicately, curling her shoulders in to avoid touching his arm as much as possible. He doesn't seem to notice and leaves it around her for the duration of the ride.

[roguelov]

I get the feeling that hob looooves to cook, especially for the people that he loves. so there would be so many dinner and cooking dates at his or y/ns place or in the dreaming

also if y/n struggles with eating? he would be sooo caring and would always make sure they eat enough throughout the day, making little lunches for them to take with them to work🥰

I wholeheartedly agree with you! Hob loves to cook and he can cook really well!

Hob with all his years being alive has picked up on quite a few skills and passions and cooking is one of them. He definitely goes through phases of trying new techniques and flavor combinations which you will taste test and they always manage to be so good

Sometimes you’ll come into the kitchen and maybe just watch him cook because he looks so at ease and maybe sometimes you’ll just hug him from behind never letting him go. If you do hug him from behind he doesn’t care, he loves it, and will turn his head to kiss your cheek or top of your head then ask how you’re day has been and that dinner will be done shortly (you may even do an odd shuffle dance if you don’t want to let go but Hob just laughs and lets it happen)

If you are a picky eater or certain textures don’t sit right with you he will accommodate you and still manage to make the best meals imaginable. If you want to try something new he’ll make it but he’ll never force it on you. Dietary restrictions? Not a problem for him he takes it all in strides and he loves doing this for you, to take a little weight off your shoulders that you now don’t have to worry about

If you are struggling in anyway, he’s making small snacks to get something in your belly and praising you for eating and will comfort you and love you tirelessly

Cooking for Hob is showing his love, and he loves you so dearly

[xokaus]

for my gordon ramsay lovers, mwah. know some of my moots love him and i have to support my friends <3

[m00ns0ng]

i’m gonna need y’all to read this reaalll slowly

fanfic writers do not need to to cater to you or your tastes

if YOU want to see a certain type of fanfic more, YOU should write it instead of complaining

fanfic writers do NOT need to cater to you or your tastes

if YOU🫵🏾 see shit in fanfic you don’t want to, then don’t read it. not every fanfic is going to match your taste.

stop acting like it’s the end of the world just because certain fanfic fads are popular. it’s not that deep.

FANFIC WRITERS DO NOT NEED TO CATER TO YOU OR YOUR TASTES

you want to see more of something? write it and then post it. maybe you’ll inspire others and see more fics of what you want.

[requiemforthepoets]

overcooked 𖦹 LN4

PAIRINGS: lando norris x female!reader

SUMMARY: play overcooked they said, it’ll be fun they said.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: i just can’t help write about the idea lando playing overcooked, so i did. hope you’ll enjoy this! :)

REMINDER: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WORD COUNT: 1k

WARNINGS: typos and ferrari strategy meme

Lando’s twitch stream was in full swing, and the chat was buzzing as you settled beside him, controller in hand.

“Alright, babe, let’s see how well we work together,” Lando teased, flashing you that signature grin. You rolled your eyes, already sensing that this game of overcooked might be more than what you bargained for.

You both dove into the first level, the kitchen chaos unfolding on the screen as you both tried to chop, cook, and serve orders with as much coordination as two people shared a life, but perhaps not a kitchen.

“Lando, the onions! You missed the onions!” You shouted, pointing at the screen as the virtual kitchen teetered on the brink of disaster.

“Relax, I’ve got this!” Lando replied, but his character was already running into walls, the pot burning on the stove. You could feel the frustration bubbling up, your competitive nature kicking into high gear.

You took charge of the kitchen, barking orders like a seasoned chef, while Lando scrambled to keep up. “Chop the onions faster, Lando!” You yelled as the kitchen timer ticked down. Lando, flustered, accidentally tossed the onions into the trash instead of the pot.

“Oops,” he said, trying to suppress a laugh.

“Oops?” You shot back, incredulous. “Lando, we’re running a restaurant, not a garbage disposal service!” The twitch chat exploded with laughter, and Lando couldn’t help but chuckle as well.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of trying to manage orders, avoid fires, and stop Lando from accidentally throwing perfectly good ingredients into the trash, you both managed to complete the level. The result? Two stars. You stared at the screen, eyes narrowing.

“Unacceptable.” You muttered, “this is unacceptable!” You declared, your voice suddenly dropping into a perfect Gordon Ramsay impression.

“Oh look, baby we got two stars! That’s not bad!” Lando said excitedly as he pointed on the screen.

“Not that bad? Are you kidding me, Lando?” You snapped, fully embodying the spirit of Gordon Ramsay. “We were all over the place! No communcation, no strategy. Honestly, what was that—your best effort? Do you want to serve that to people? Do you?!”

Your sudden intensity caught Lando off guard, but before he could say anything, you were now pacing back and forth in front of him. But before he could say anything, you were off on a tirade, launching into an elaborate explanation of your strategy. You gestured wildly, pointing at the screen, completely absorbed in your monologue.

“Okay, listen. First, you need to stay on your side of the kitchen. I’ll handle the chopping and the prep work—because clearly, you’re incapable of doing both without setting something on fire. We need to streamline the workflow. I’ll chop, you’ll cook, and we both plate. But!” You pointed at him, your expression deadly serious, “no more improvisation. We need to stick to the plan. No more running around like a headless chicken.“

Lando blinked and nodded at you, clearly taken aback by your sudden switch into full-on chef mode. He opened his mouth to respond but then quickly shut it, his eyes darting between you and the camera that was still live streaming every second of your tirade. The chat was exploding with messages, his fans throughly entertained by your unintentional transformation into a culinary dictator, and Lando knows better than to interrupt you when you’re in the zone.

“And another thing,” you continued, pointing to the screen like you were delivering the world’s most important TED talk. “Timing and synchronization is crucial. We need to strategize and work like a well-oiled machine, not a circus act, okay? I handle the chopping, you’ll cook, and we both plate. We’ll divide and conquer!”

The chat exploded, the fans losing it as she continued, hands flying everywhere in wild gestures. Meanwhile, Lando was trying his hardest not to crack up, the corners of his mouth twitching as he watched her go on.

“Babe…baby,” Lando finally managed to interject, struggling to keep a straight face. “You realize we’re live, right?”

You froze, eyes widening as you remembered the twitch stream, the hundred of his fans who had just witnessed your unhinged rant. Slowly, you turned to the camera, a sheepish grin spreading across your face.

“Oh…hi, chat,” you said, your voice suddenly much softer, the intensity draining from your expression. “I’m sorry for that. That was not very demure, very cutesy, and very mindful of me.”

Lando burst out laughing, nearly doubling over as he clutched his stomach. “I think you’ve been watching too much Hell’s Kitchen, love. Gordon Ramsay has become your new personality,” he teased, pulling you back down and sat you on his lap. You groaned, burying your face on his neck, as he put an arm around your waist, but even you couldn’t help laugh at yourself.

“Come on, let’s get you that three stars.” Lando said as he chuckled again. You settled down beside him and gave you a kiss on your temple.

The rest of the stream was just as chaotic as when you both started playing the game, filled with rage, frustration, and hilarious uncoordination. Orders were still missed, pots were still burning, and Lando’s character even managed to fall off the kitchen at one point, but you were both too busy laughing to care. By the end of the game, you hadn’t earned a single three-star rating that you had intentionally wanted, but the stream had been a massive hit, and the chat was flooded with memes of your intense strategy session.

As Lando ended the stream, he leaned over and kissed you on the lips, still chuckling. “We may not be the best team in overcooked, but I think we’re the most entertaining,” he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

You rolled your eyes, but a smile played on your lips as you rested your head ok his shoulder. “Yeah, well, next time we’re getting three stars. I don’t care how long it takes.”

“Deal.” lando replied, wrapping an arm around you as you both relaxed, your own competitive sprit finally at peace—for now. “And can I say, it really turned me on when you started yapping.” His eyes wiggling, suggesting something that you knew fully well as you slapped him playfully on the chest.

“Oh shut up you.” You both laughed.

The kitchen might have been a disaster, but at least your relationship had survived the heat—well, barely.

twitter posts

[forzalando]

anyone can cook

max + cooking date - 3k celebration driver scenario for @foreveralbon !! liyah, i do not know what happened but somehow this turned into just jokes and banter. i am so sorry, i hope you still like it!!!! special bonus scene at the end that is the most unserious thing i have ever written and i apologize profusely for it but i was writing this past bedtime and couldn't get it out of my head this is the end of the 3k celebration blurbs, i am kind of sad but also feel accomplished🥹 i only had to write 6 but i am notorious for not finishing things. patting myself on the back today! pairing: max verstappen x fem!reader word count: 660 words tw: none, unless boxed pasta offends you

“MAX! I said salt the water, not create the sixth named ocean,” you said through giggles. “Here, let me help.”

You cupped your hands under his, leading him to the sink to dump a considerable amount of salt under the rushing water.

“Use about…this much,” you mumbled, tongue poking out and concentrating on dumping the granules into his hands without spilling any onto the floor. Jimmy and Sassy were weaving in between your legs and you didn’t want them tracking salt into every room or, heaven forbid, rolling around in your bed.

After guiding Max to the boiling water, you turned your attention back to your blistering tomatoes and garlic, but not before passing a cheese grater and block of parmesan over to him.

“Cooking is so much work,” he whined. “How do you enjoy this?”

“Max, you’ve literally done two things. You filled a pot with water and salted it, how many things do you have to do simultaneously while in the car?”

“That’s different, it’s fun!”

“Cooking can be fun! Cuisine is an art – it’s therapeutic, calming, and you get to eat something delicious after all your hard work!”

“Yeah, and do a million dishes,” he grumbled under his breath. You immediately shot him a steely glare and he smiled big enough that his eyes crinkled. “But I love doing dishes with you! Quality time, right?”

“Nice save, Verstappen.”

For the next few minutes you worked in tandem and in silence – Max furiously grating cheese and hissing every few seconds when he accidentally caught a finger against the sharp holes, you stirring and perfecting your sauce with ease.

The stove timer interrupted the peace and you called Max over from his place at the countertop.

“Ok, lesson number three of the evening – ”

“What were one and two?” He interrupted you, hints of hesitation and guilt in his voice. When you turned to look at him, your mouth open in exasperation, you saw the teasing look in his eye and rolled yours in return.

“If Gordon Ramsay were teaching you, you’d have been called an idiot sandwich twice and kicked out of the kitchen by now.”

“Lucky me, you’re way nicer, way more patient, and way prettier than Gordon.”

He tickled your ribcage lightly, causing you to flip a spoonful of pasta water across the room.

“New lesson number three – no tickling the chef when boiling water is nearby. Lesson number four, previously lesson number three – never trust the cook time on the pasta box. A true pasta chef also finishes cooking their pasta in the sauce, so we’re taking it out a few minutes early.”

“Wouldn’t a true pasta chef use fresh-made pasta?”

“You’re on thin ice, Max.”

He leaned in swiftly to kiss your cheek and stole the pasta spoon from your hand. “I’ll be dumping the water, I don’t want it to splash on you.”

“Don’t forget to – ”

“Reserve a cup of pasta water, where is your faith in me? I pay attention to everything you say, mijn liefje.”

It wasn’t long before you had served up plates of pasta as fresh as you could make considering you’d just gotten back to Monaco that morning, slightly burnt garlic bread because Max forgot to set a separate timer, and a mixed greens salad so Max’s trainer wouldn’t sue you for mistreatment and neglect.

“I’d say this was a very solid date night,” Max said between chews. “Thank you for teaching me and being patient with me – I take for granted how much you do for me when we’re home.” He pressed another kiss to your cheek, this one longer and messier than the one before.

You couldn’t help but grin at him, a devastatingly lovesick grin, and your stomach fluttered when he returned the exact look. He had a tomato sauce stain in the corner of his mouth and a droplet of spilled wine on his shirt but to you he’d never looked more beautiful.

bonus snippet (i couldn’t help myself, please accept my apology)

“Y/N, I cannot cook. I can count on one hand the number of times I have cooked for myself in the past ten years. I will blow up the kitchen.”

“Relax, I’ll guide you the whole way! You’ll never be near an open flame unsupervised, no sharp knives, we can even start with something simple! Pasta al pomodoro – you’ll love it!”

“When the rat said anyone can cook, he did not mean me, I promise.”

You looked at him quizzically – “Max, what rat?”

“The little French rat, not Esteban, the one who lives in the chef’s hat and makes soup for him.”

“…Are you talking about Remy? From Ratatouille?”

“I don’t remember his name, I just know you made me watch a movie one time about a French rat that could cook.”

“Ok, well, that’s an animated kid’s movie, and actually Chef Gusteau said anyone can cook, but he's right! Anyone can cook, Remy is proof, so get ready to cook on date night.”

“Thanks a lot, Remy,” Max huffed, crossing his arms in defeat.

--------------------

taglist: @scuderiahoney @lam-ila @anaviieiraaa @nebarious @chocolatepoetryfun @maxlarens @coff33andb00ks @katsu28 @sof1shticated @viikysmile @scuderiarossa @littlegrapejuice @alexxavicry @priopp123

if you would like to be added to my taglist, please refer to this post!

[leclerckins]

idiot sandwich [cl16]

❀ pairing (s) — charles leclerc x chef!reader

❀ desc — did charles really get called an idiot sandwich?....part 2 to this!

❀ notes — hi! its dina! had fun making this so hope you guys will like it too!

yninstagram

liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton, pierregasly and others

yninstagram kitchen dump! peek someone who is trying to improve his cooking skills, guys.....he will actually know chilis by the next cooking challenge!

carlossainz55 just know i'm not accepting any dinner invitation if charles is in the kitchen

charles_leclerc no one is inviting you carlos just like how you are not inviting me to your house for your burgers

arthur_leclerc imagine the SHOCK i had when i walked into their kitchen and charles is standing in front the stove and nothing is burning

lilymhe i NEED your cookies, y/n like i need to taste heaven in my mouth again

yninstagram bringing them to the paddock just for YOU lily <3

charles_leclerc

liked by yninstagram, arthur_leclerc, scuderiaferrari and others

charles_leclerc looks like a cinnamon roll but can actually call you an idiot sandwich if you forgot to check the oven to make sure the cookies aren't burning

yninstagram now whose fault is it we have no cookies in the house?

charles_leclerc i love you the most

yninstagram you are still on cookie ban leclerc

gordongram that is actually a valid reason to call someone an idiot sandwich

charlesfan GORDON RAMSAY? what are YOU doing here?

charleswdc NOT GORDON RAMSAY CAMPING IN THE COMMENTS

[thequeenofcupps]

I’m just gonna make a shit ton of katsuki bakugo x reader incorrect quotes

Y/n: Katsuki , you love me, right?

Katsuki : Normally I’d say yes without hesitation, but I feel like this is going somewhere I won’t like.

Y/n: How do I tell Katsuki that I want him to yell at me like he’s Gordon Ramsay and I'm a poor little chef who just ruined a crème brûlée?

Katsuki : If I'm extra sarcastic with you it probably means I'm flirting with you or you really annoy me and I can't handle your crap... have fun figuring out which one.

Y/n: You are the love of my life and I would do anything within reason to make you happy.

Katsuki : I would be happy if you ate, stayed hydrated and got a reasonable amount of sleep.

Y/n: I said within reason, Katsuki . How about I murder that guy?

Katsuki : So murder is in reason but proper self care isn't?

Y/n: Well, duh. What kind of question is that?

Katsuki : Did you know you remind me of all 26 letters of the alphabet?

Y/n: What? Like J F K W S Q X-

Katsuki : No, like, U R A Q T.

Y/n: Awwww!

Y/n: Hey, Katsuki , what do you think it would be like if we had kids?

Katsuki : What would it be like? Inconvenient, mostly.

Y/n: No, I mean, what would they be like, the kids? You ever think about it?

Katsuki : Can't really say I have.

Y/n: You know, for someone as eccentric as yourself, you can be boring as fuck sometimes.

Katsuki : Sorry, Y/n. For what it's worth, I'm picturing them now. A boy and a girl. Two perfect little freaks of nature raised by people who've clearly got no business bringin' up anybody

Katsuki: Goodnight to the love of my life, y/n , and fuck the rest of y'all.

Y/n: I don't know how to tell you this, but... I love you.

Katsuki : That's great, Y/n. Especially considering the fact we've been married for 6 fucking years.

Y/n : I want to wake up with you every day for the rest of our lives.

Katsuki: I wake up at 4:30 AM every day to train.

Y/n : I want to see you at some point every day for the rest of our lives.

Katsuki: Stop doing that.

Y/n : Stop doing what?

Katsuki: Saying things that make me wanna kiss the hell out of you.

[blood-smiles]

Hi! I just read your yan!Doll x reader and I was wondering if you were willing to elaborate or make little headcannons of the like of how living together with him is?

If your asks aren't open right or your just Tired feel free to ignore! :D

And could I become an anon? since I believe I'll be staying on this block for a while

And if I were allowed to become an anon could I be 🍰 anon?

HIIII :33 it would be my honor to elaborate!!!!! And congrats for being my first anon! <3 adding 🍰 anon to my list rn c: it’s a bit long so I apologize

꩜ .ᐟ Angelo first and foremost is like a tattoo, once you get it there is no way to remove it permanently, that’s basically what life with him is.

꩜ .ᐟ Angelo will wake up, fresh faced and motivated again for another day with you, he wakes up like a literal princess, not the slightest sign of eye bags or even morning pimples, his hair perfect and tidy, well.. He is a doll.

꩜ .ᐟ He always manages to get up before you, by the time you wake up a sweet aroma of food would waft into your nose, what was he? Fucking Gordon Ramsay?

꩜ .ᐟ he will always add a special nutrition to your food! He never tells you to though.. Whenever you ask he just gets red in the face and slightly sweaty before dodging the question.. sigh.

“Oh. Well, It’s just my.. haha.. Eat up, darling! I made this food with all my love~!”

꩜ .ᐟ Angelo’s food always has a slightly salty taste, not enough to ruin your meal, but it would be better if it didn’t have it.

꩜ .ᐟ You spend the rest of your time doing whatever you wish, playing PS4, drawing, crocheting, you name it—Angelo will be there to ‘supervise’ you activities, supervise meaning stare at you for hours on end without blinking.

꩜ .ᐟ Angelo who always has to stop himself from punching a hole into your TV or incinerating your possessions, he hates when your attention isn’t on him, he lives off your attention, praise and degradation.. So what does he do to fix it?

꩜ .ᐟ who you see raging from the corner of your eye, his usually pitch black eyes glinting with red.

“Angelo, is something wrong?”

“no! How about you take a break from.. That, and we cuddle for a little? Does that sound good?”

꩜ .ᐟ Angelo’s jealousy can be dangerous if you trigger it, he will leave for a little with his doll, before coming back with crimson blotches on his white attire.

꩜ .ᐟ Angelo will make your possessions disappear, they always appear again after a bit of time, they will have strange stains on them though, you always put them to wash though, god knows what he does with your blanket of all things.

꩜ .ᐟ Angelo will sit and stare at himself in the mirror, it’s strange and unsettling, it gives you the heebie jeebies but you never say anything, he almost seems dissatisfied while he looks at himself in the mirror.

꩜ .ᐟ he wants nothing more but for you to bite his skin and leave deep bruises on his almost Snow White skin.. He is just too shy to say anything though, demons bond in that way, bites is claiming possession over each other, he knows you are human and don’t follow along but.. The thought just makes him so excited!

꩜ .ᐟ Angelo finishes his day by making out with you, allowing your tongue to shove itself into his mouth, saliva binding the both of you in a passionate session.

꩜ .ᐟ Angelo watches as you use your tooth brush, he licks his lips, thinking of what he could do with that tooth brush..

꩜ .ᐟ Angelo sleeps in your clothing, the thing he adores most, your scent entering his nostrils, he likes to put you under his shirt, so he can feel your warm skin against his cold skin.

꩜ .ᐟ Angelo kisses your head while you are asleep, wrapping his legs around you and resting his cheek against your forehead.

꩜ .ᐟ He will sometimes cry out of happiness to be here with you, he will cry out of love, his eyes will become swollen, his lips red from biting them, his heart beats solely for you, he went as far to carve your name into his heart’s flesh.

[solarswonderland]

happy accidents

pairing: bf!heeseung x reader ft. jay and niki

genre: fluff

wc: 0.4k

warnings: cursing, food burning, fire, gordon ramsay (this feels like a warning)

summary: you and heeseung cooked. kinda.

masterlist

“On a scale of one to ten, how fucked are we, realistically?” 

you found yourself asking your boyfriend, heeseung, as the two of you stared in horror at what was supposed to be lunch, but instead you were greeted with a culinary crime scene of a charred, unrecognizable mess that filled the kitchen with smoke.

“hypothetically, i’d like to say 3, but honestly? A solid 11.” he replied, rubbing his temples.

you groaned, “jay is going to kill us.”

“we could always blame niki?” heeseung questioned.

“don’t fucking blame me, you old man.” niki voiced from the living room.

“there goes that option.” you sigh.

“i don't get it. where did we go wrong?” heeseung asks, prodding at what was supposed to be a casserole.

“maybe we missed a step?” you flipped through the cookbook, “or 10…”

niki strolled into the kitchen, surveying the damage with a smirk. "you know, i think this is a new record. even for you two."

you hit him on the head with a spatula, “ive seen you burn salad. people don’t cook salad.” 

“point taken.” niki replied, exiting the kitchen.

“jay will be back in an hour, what do we do?” heeseung asks while frantically scraping at the walls with a fork.

“we could probab-” you were cut off by someone clearing their throat.

well shit.

you both turned around to find jay standing in the doorway, arms crossed and a mixture of disbelief and annoyance on his face.

"what the fuck happened here?" he asked, taking in the sight of the smoke-stained walls and the charred remnants of lunch.

“happy accidents?” heeseung hesitated.

“happy accidents? it looks like the two of you were trying to summon satan” 

“that seems easier than making a casserole.” you said in defeat, as you grabbed the fork from heeseung and scraped at the counter.

“stop whining and order takeout.” niki said, walking back into the kitchen. “what about the kitchen…?” you asked, glancing at a slightly annoyed jay.

“oh please, the kitchen was meant to burn up someday. jay’s cooking is ass-” niki stopped himself and looked at jay. “-as tasty as something gordon ramsay would make! we don’t deserve that level of culinary art.” 

heeseung snickered. “nice save”

you sighed, setting down the fork and reaching for your phone. "alright, takeout it is. any preferences?"

jay shook his head. "anything that doesn't require cooking, i am begging you."

"how about sushi? it's practically foolproof." you asked

heeseung nodded in agreement. "sushi sounds good. and we won't have to worry about setting the place on fire."

“with your cooking skills? it’s definitely possible.” niki chuckled to himself.

“i am giving you 3 seconds to run”

© solarswonderland 2024