𐔌 ﹒ ⋆ working with line cook! toji and line cook! sukuna
sfw. waitress! reader. pining. touch of angst? resturant au. unedited.
just something i whipped up quick tehehe. nsfw version????
the guys in the kitchen were always nice—at least to you they were. they were often spatting, throwing around insults, always on the verge into breaking into a fist fight or dramatically quitting. they became especially rowdy when a waiter came back with a messed up order.
toji and sukuna were the worst out of the staff, and not just in their individual attitudes, but the way they acted to each other—their strings of curses knew no bounds, and the kitchen was lucky if by the end of the night every line cook still had their fingers.
“the fuck it’s wrong,” sukuna would mutter under his breath, “this is medium rare—do they wanna be chewing on leather?”
his sneers were strong, and the way his tattoos wrinkled up with every exaggerated emotion. he’d swear under his breath, turning to the vegetables he’d been chopping, using his knife with such precision it was almost deadly. for someone who was always in a bad mood, though, he seemed to be passionate about what he did—maybe that was why he got so offended any time anyone questioned the food they had received.
toji, on the other hand, was there for the paycheck and the paycheck alone. he found any excuse to slip out of the kitchen, sometimes pawning a cigarette and taking as long as possible to smoke it. he showed up half-awake, always looking a little scruffy, and with a blunt attitude.
“stop fucking standing in the way,” he’d grumbled at waiters that rushed in, and worming they way through the kitchen. he’d roll his eyes and get back to half-assing his job. sukuna could sense the laziness from across the room, and within minutes the two were bickering.
“quit standing around, you little shit,” sukuna would order, although toji was anything but little.
the older man stood there with a grimace, looking up from the vegetables being sautéd on the pan. toji narrowed in his vision.
“i’m fucking cooking here,” he claimed, gesturing to the meal being prepped. sukuna scoffed again—making his emotions known to the whole kitchen—a clear sign to steer clear of the two of them. unless you wanted a rolling pin thrown at your head, of course.
yet, as soon as you walked through the kitchen doors to pick up the next order, their behaviour seemed to improve drastically.
“um sukuna,” you started, looking down at the plate with a bit of a pout. “they ordered the sweet potato fries. these are just the regular ones.”
you held up the plate to show him, voice small, clearly not wanting to inconvenience him. sukuna only stared, eyes widening slowly, studying the way you stood there. if it had been anyone else he would’ve chewed their head off. but, it was you, and slowly, he pulled the ticket up to inspect it. he then eyed the plate once more, drawing his conclusion. his lips pressed together, and he took a deep breath.
the rest of the kitchen held their breath for you, hoping that he wouldn’t take it out on you. just last night he and another waiter nearly poked each other's eyes out over a mixed up order. so as they watched sukuna, it was as if the whole room fell silent.
“my mistake,” he grunted, taking the plate from you, surprising everyone with his lack of outburst. it was like a blue moon experience, especially as they heard the following words slip from sukuna’s mouth: “i’ll fix it—sorry about that.”
his subtle kindness went right over your head, and everyone could see the way he softened up, yet no one wanted to be the one to point it out—they didn’t want to deal with an angry sukuna while he held a knife. it was painfully obvious to the whole kitchen staff that you were his favourite waitress, and they wondered when you would finally notice it.
“hey were are you heading off to?” sukuna would ask as he saw you pacing towards the punch-clock. he almost lost track of the meat he was grilling, focussed on the way you seemed to be in a rush.
“oh i got cut, so i’m heading home,” you said, smiling. although, sukuna’s face was far from mimicking that reaction.
he knew that you going home meant that he wouldn’t get to see you for at least another week, which felt like an eternity away. he contemplated switching his availability just to raise the chances of being scheduled at the same time as you. he sighed internally, nodding at your words, even though he didn’t want to accept them.
“right,” he said, confirming what you said as if it was a question. “have a good night.”
he wasn’t a strong flirt, or a smooth talker—not by any means. he hoped that you noticed his kindness—or, at least, his attempts at kindness.
“you too,” you smiled at him, making his heart thump. “see you later, suki!”
sukuna wasn’t sure if it was the heat from the kitchen that was making him feel so hot, or the fact that you had a little nickname for him. either way, his cheeks were burning, and if anyone else looked close enough they would see a playful pink tint added to his face.
toji wasn’t any better at hiding his intrigue in you.
he could spot you dotting around the kitchen, sticking out like a sore thumb. clearly you were too caught up in your own work to notice the chaos of the kitchen, which often made him snicker.
every now and then, when he would wait outside to smoke, you’d stumble out carrying a heft garbage bag from the kitchen. with both your hands gripped the black blastic, you were barely able to hold your own balance.
“what fuckers made you take this out?” he’d question with a scoff, shaking his head at the thought of the boys in the kitchen making a pretty little thing like you do such a tough task.
“it’s okay, i got it,” you replied with a false sense of confidence.
only, the bag most definitely weighed as much as you did, and although toji didn’t want to be rude he was sure that you didn’t have the strength to haul it up into the big, rotting bin they kept in the back. especially with the way you were already huffing and puffing as you tried to haul it.
he took a step forward, leaning off the wall he’d been resting against and reached his hand forward.
“here,” he said quickly, his fingers brushing over your knuckles as he took the bag from you. you didn’t fight him, though, feeling flustered at the contact. toji took a few steps over and threw the bag into the garbage like it was nothing.
he wiped his hands against the back pocket of his jeans and then smirked back at you, “see, it was no trouble.”
“thanks, toji,” you hummed, still catching your breath.
there was a nice breeze, and the moon was out. it didn’t help that your feet were starting to throb. maybe you could join toji while he was out there?
“it’s good to get some fresh air every once and a while, y’know?” he interjected, as if he could read your thoughts. he dug into his pocket and pulled out a pack of marlboros, sliding out a cylinder and slotting it between his teeth. next, he fished for a lighter and cupped his hands in front of the cigarette’s tip, lighting it carefully.
you couldn’t help but watching, catching the way his arms flexed ever-so-slightly. you had never looked at toji in that light and as he locked eyes with you, any thoughts about work or the tables that were being waited on slipped from your mind.
“you want a hit?” he questioned, a little rasp in his voice.
tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, you shook your head softly.
“i don’t smoke,” you replied, and toji realized then what sukuna was seeing in you. that soft, sweetness, that even though the business could be a little cut throat at times, you were still an optimist.
“probably for the best, sweetheart” he hummed along, letting you stay by his side regardless.
time seemed to pass differently outside, and before you knew it, you had been gone longer than you had anticipated. laughing along with the jokes that toji made, you heard the door creep open, and turning your head you quickly noticed sukuna standing there.
“it’s getting busy,” he stated, although he seemed a little pale—like there was a lingering disappointment in his eyes. “manager’s been looking for you.”
“shoot,” you frowned, looking down at your watch, rushing back into the kitchen and praying that your tables weren’t getting angry. you ran past sukuna without saying anything else to either one of the men, trying to get back on track for the rest of your shift.
when sukuna stared down at toji, they didn’t exchange a single word, just a quick scowl and a vicious glare. it was like two animals trying to get territorial, the real question was which one would be successful?
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