Iplier and Septiceye One-Shots/Imagines

Recipe For Love (Chef Iplier)

I'm expecting you at six-thirty tomorrow. You can drive yourself.

That was a text from your jerk boyfriend Charles yesterday. He was a complete ass to you. He was always so perverted and rude, to you and people around him. You wanted more than anything to never see his vile face again, but unfortunately, when you were... let's say... incapacitated because of this "lovely" man. He decided to sneak a few pictures of you doing things you didn't necessarily want other people to see. So he had some stuff on you, and easily blackmailed you.

Which was the only reason you stayed with him.

And on the day of this wonderful date, the time was now six sharp. So you decided to get ready. But you weren't wearing anything too nice for this piece of crap. Even though he told you to put on something short and tight-fitting, you just put on a black skirt and a flowing t-shirt, with a black blazer over it. Getting in your car, you started the engine and drove off, dreading tonight.

"Good evening, darling," Charles smirked at you when you got to his table, but then frowned as he saw what you decided to wear. "Don't you ever listen to me?"

"I agreed on doing this. That's all I'm agreeing to," you snapped.

"Tsk, tsk. Careful what you say, my dear," he chuckled, waving his phone in your face tauntingly. You just gritted your teeth, and watched as he put it on the table, right beside his hand.

"Are you ready to order?" the waiter asked, walking up to your table and looking at you with a smile. You were about to answer when Charles butted in, loudly ordering. You rolled your eyes when he said that you'll share with him.

Jerk.

"Erm... coming right up, sir, madam," the waiter nodded, looking confused, and walked away to the kitchen.

"So, (Y/N), my flower," Charles chuckled, making you roll your eyes, "how was your day?"

Terrible. I couldn't stop thinking about you, you wanted to say. But you couldn't.

"It was fine," you answered vaguely.

"Just fine? Anything happen at work?" he insisted. He didn't really care about your day. He just wanted to make sure no guys started flirting with you. For a guy that didn't really care about his girlfriend, he really cared about keeping other guys' hands off his girlfriend.

"Nothing. It was boring. Uneventful." You took a sip of water, trying to give him the hint that you didn't want to talk, but if he noticed, he didn't care.

"Really? Any meetings? Nothing at all?"

"There. Was. Nothing," you snapped, just as the waiter walked up with the food. But it wasn't the same waiter.

"Hi. I'm the chef of this place," the man said as he put down your food.

"You shouldn't be out here bringing food to your customers, then," you told him cheekily.

"No, not really," he admitted, "but... well, I like to make exceptions with some people." He glanced at you, and you felt your cheeks heat up slightly, which Charles, thankfully, didn't notice.

"Well, great," your boyfriend said, and started eating immediately. You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his brashness and just overall bluntness. The chef bit his lip, and shrugged.

"I hope you have a good evening," he said with a small smile, talking more to you than Charles, and you nodded your thanks. He went back to the kitchen, and the only decent man within a meter from you just left.

"This is really good food," Charles said, swallowing.

"Could you at least say a thank you or something?" you growled.