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So, here's the result of my head chef!sukuna x f!server!reader ideas running rampant in my mind — a very slowburn enemies to something fic 🫣 I hope y'all enjoy and lmk what you think, my asks are open!! mwah xx
2057 words
Head Chef Sukuna Itadori had worked very, very hard to get to where he was today— sweating his ass off while slaving over the umpteenth filet of the night.
He wasn't ungrateful but he was a bit bitter. He loves cooking, and was damn good at it, but the hours were long and the job could feel really thankless. Especially when tables found it more than okay to completely change his prepared menu for their singular order.
As a ticket printed, riddled with modifications that changed his entree for the night from a marinated steak option to, basically, a steak stroganoff. Yes, he could make it using all kinds of ingredients they had on hand, especially since the server had managed to figure out the complicated system in order to ring it in properly, but, he wasn't going to do it. It wasn't prepped or planned for, and in the middle of a dinner rush like right now, it would complicate everything.
He didn't make exceptions. Unless there was an allergy, his restaurant, Gōrudosutā, was not a place for substitutions and and picky eaters. Sukuna spent his countless sleepless nights racking his brain for new creations, each weekend night offering a different menu, most items never to be repeated again. This wasn't anything new, so who the fuck rang something like this in?
He yanked the ticket off the printer, his eyes narrowed as Geto gazed over his shoulder, scoffing as he read it. A deep breath escaped Sukuna before he crumpled the ticket, the newest servers name printed boldly at the top.
Sukuna didn't like you during your interview, he felt like you were too bubbly, but you had plenty of experience and it was ultimately Satoru’s say, as the front of house manager. He definitely had a lot to say about you.
He couldn't stop gushing about all of your previous high end restaurant experience, starting in fast food and working your way well up from there. Great reviews about her service, wonderful recommendations from every manager she's ever had, regulars who'd follow her no matter where she worked next.
It irked Sukuna. He loves the restaurant industry, but the servers who put too much into it irritated him. There was no reason to fall at the customers feet and accommodate their every beck and call; your job was to serve the food, no friendliness and frills needed.
So the first time he stepped out of the kitchen during the earlier hours of a slower night and overheard you dotting to one of your tables, he wanted to barf in his mouth.
He stood with his back against the wall near the servers station waiting for Saturo to stop sucking up to an unhappy customer, as you stood with your table just around the corner, chatting happily.
“I don't mind at all,” Your soft voice caught his attention, making him glance over his shoulder at you, a bright smile plastered on your face. “Seriously, if there's anything else you guys need, just let me know.”
You finished topping off the tables waters, before moving to the next, just doing your rounds of check-ins with your guests.
You couldn't be that sweet, Sukuna thought to himself. You hadn't been there long at that point, maybe worked a shift or two without shadowing anyone, so he hadn't been around you much to know, but his gut told him that you couldn't actually be that sweet, you'd be filled with cavities.
He was lost in thought, glancing over the dining room with his arms crossed over his chest, his chefs coat pulling tightly against his muscles. He was brought back to this realm as a sweet smell enveloped him as you round the corner, your head down as you read over a ticket, running straight into Sukuna and nearly knocking the breath out of you.
“Oh…” You placed you hand on your chest as you looked up at him, his eyes on you intently as yours quickly trail around his tattoos before meeting his. “I'm sorry, Chef.”
He couldn't find it in himself to say anything, his brow furrowed as he glanced at your notepad, the edges of the ticket littered with doodles. A small grunt left him before he turned on his heels, heading back toward the kitchen.
“Corner!” Sukuna called as he left you behind, your mind now filling with assumptions about the dickhead chef, nothing you hadn't delt with before.
As his mind replayed your last and only interaction, he reached behind himself, untying his apron as held the ticket tightly in his other hand. “Geto, watch the flattop, I'll be back.”
Sukuna stepped off the line, tossing his apron onto the empty prep line, his footsteps heavy and determined as he moved toward the front, the kitchen and expo widow falling quiet at the look on his face. He didn't call anything as he stepped out of the back, his eyes falling on you in the dining room, talking to the table to blame for the whole issue in the first place.
You felt his eyes on you before you even knew he was there, your hands nervously playing at the edges of your server apron, your pens rolling in the pocket. You nodded softly, your heart in your stomach as you space out of the conversation, wishing you'd been able to listen better to the story your regulars were telling but you knew the problems there were about to cause.
The older couple had become regulars of yours a few years and a couple of restaurants ago, having told you many stories of their younger days, bringing in their children and grandchildren to meet you, bringing you presents on your birthday. They weren't the only regulars you'd had like that either.
As draining as the restaurant industry was for you, you loved giving the best service you could to people, you couldn't ever explain why. Maybe you were a bit too compassionate, but it made you feel good and you loved the genuine connections you've made through it all.
That being said, you know it has its faults, especially somewhere like here. You'd been nervous about telling some of your regulars where you'd been working now, knowing just how they are and how this restaurant ran.
You made an excuse to leave, claiming you had food to run as you turned around, his steeled eyes meeting yours. You broke your eyes from his, offering a half hearted smile at a few of your tables as you made your way through the dining room, feeling like a lamb to slaughter.
Thick fingers held the receipt paper up to your face as soon as you came within feet of him, and you could've sworn he growled before he spoke. “What’s this shit?”
“Looks like an order to me.” You shrugged, sliding past him and to the computer, quickly punching in your number before beginning to ring in another.
You could feel the bewildered stare from Maki, one of the servers they've had since opening, boring into the back of your head. She couldn't believe you had the audacity to ring in something like that in the first place, having already warned you about just how quickly Sukuna would appear, now here you were being a smartass about it.
The same finger that held the receipt just a moment ago reached behind the computer, jamming the power button in the middle of your order. You take a deep breath, eyebrows knitted together as you look over you shoulder at the culprit, his eyes already staring deep into yours.
“I need to see you in the kitchen right now.”
His tone left no room for argument as anger began to rise up inside you, your fists clenched at your side as he turned, the swinging door slamming roughly against the wall as he marched back into his domain.
You felt every hair on your body standing on edge as you followed behind him, eyes begrudgingly set on his muscular back, the dark fabric clinging tightly to him. He stops abruptly, slamming his hand onto the expo counter, the stacks of plates around him rattling loudly as silence fell upon the entire kitchen.
“Now, what the fuck kinda order is this?” He seethed through gritted teeth, his jaw clenched as he saw red. It didn't feel like blatant disrespect for him, until you opened your mouth back there.
“I think it's pretty simple. Isn't that all the ingredients that you used in the stroganoff you served last week?” You responded, a hand placed on your hips as your eyebrows raised, your head tilting slightly. You'd been here plenty of times before, arguing with countless line cooks and chefs over just about anything you'd could think of, but there's a few things that haven't changed anytime.
You do your job correctly, and you won't back down. So here the two of you stood, toe to toe, at the beginning of something catastrophic. An absolutely recipe for disaster.
“It was on the menu last week, not tonight, sweetheart. You said it yourself.” His chest heaved as he took a deep breath, trying his best to keep calm. He’d been talked to years ago about his attitude toward the other staff, causing him to often bite his tongue.
You couldn't help but laugh at the nickname, willing to assume he'd already forgotten your name. “And don't you have everything back there to make it still? Did I ring something in wrong? I'd be more than happy to go rering it if you'd like to turn the computer back on.”
You offer a sickeningly sweet smile, batting your lashes a bit as you stare up at the man seething before you. “I'd like you to go back there and make it your-fuckin’-self, honestly. You think it's alright to ring in an order that'll complete fuck up the whole system I've got back there?”
A head full of pink hair and a thick fucking skull, got it. This man was quickly becoming a pain in your side, even with this being your first interaction since his manager had hired you.
“I think a competent chef would be able to work out his own recipe.”
“I think you're fighting too hard for a measly 20% tip.”
“You're must be fucked up if you think I earn that little.”
“You're fucked up if you think I'm making this shit, sweetheart. Now march back out there and tell your geriatric home to pack it up and eat somewhere else if they don't like the menu.” He barked, all attention on the two of you as both of you continued to raise your volume.
Satoru came running into the kitchen quickly, his nonslip shoes squeaking as he stepped between the two of you, giving his chef a bewildered look.
“Get her the hell outta my kitchen.” Sukuna refused to even acknowledge the mans presence between them, his eyes boring into yours.
“Get your head out of your ass.” You could see his pulse thumping on his neck, a small vein stating to appear on his forehead as his breaths continued to heave from his flared nostrils.
Within seconds, Gojo spins, peering over his glasses, his blue eyes silently pleading with you to help him. You couldn't help but huff at the shithead chef once more before leaving the kitchen, finding the host Yuji, Maki, and a couple other servers waiting near the door.
“You okay?” Maki asked, her tone a bit harsh but her face genuinely concerned as your booming voices could be heard quite clearly in the dining room. You chuckled and shrugged, smoothing your apron a bit as you glanced at the computer screen, still attempting to start back up.
“I'm fine, he's a prick, but I could've guessed that.” You smiled softly as Satoru slipped out of the kitchen, pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation.
so here's a lil teaser for my head chef!Sukuna x server!reader fic 🫣 lmk what you guys think, I hope y'all enjoy bc I'm having so much fun writing it!! xx mwah
Thick fingers held the receipt paper up to your face as soon as you came within feet of him, and you could've sworn he growled before he spoke. "What's this shit?"
"Looks like an order to me." You shrugged, sliding past him and to the computer, quickly punching in your number before beggining to ring in another.
You could feel the bewildered stare from Maki, one of the servers they've had since opening, boring into the back of your head. She couldn't believe you had the audacity to ring in something like that in the first place, having already warned you about just how quickly Sukuna would appear, now here you were being a smartass about it.
The same finger that held the receipt just a moment ago reached behind the computer, jamming the power button in the middle of your order. You take a deep breath, eyebrows knitted together as you look over you shoulder at the culprit, his eyes already staring deep into yours.
"I need to see you in the kitchen right now." His tone left no room for argument as anger began to rise up inside you, your fists clenched at your side as he turned, the swinging door slamming roughly against the wall as he marched back into his domain.
so since I can't stop thinking about head chef!Sukuna, let me ramble on about some head cannons I have about him
head chef!sukuna...
mainlines a monster before every single shift, and can be seen paying megumi to run to the corner convenience store to buy another during busy nights
he's on aux, and since the ancient speaker system is ran out of the managers office, his phone is locked in their almost the entire shift and no one else has the chance to change it
beside the two managers, satoru and utahime, but they dont care enough ab it honestly
he literally has no clue how many hours he actually spends doing some sort of work for the restaurant
ex: the many hours he spends up at night working on new menu items, the earlier mornings he spends wandering through local markets and farms, the days off filled with paperwork or recipes or meetings let's not talk ab it he's gonna geta headache again
speaking of headaches- he definitely talked Gojo into letting his little brothers work there as soon as they were able to
but they weren't allowed to work in the kitchen, he didn't wanna have to make them put up with his attitude
his kitchen consists of quite a few chefs, with a lot of lower cooks switching in and out with their intern spots
don't worry, they are paid interns
his main cooks consisted of suguru, toji, aoi, and uraume
he'd worked at quite a lot of fine dining restaurants, having earned a michaeline star for the fifth restaurant he'd worked at by the age of 24
before he took in his younger brothers and settled back into their childhood home, he'd spent about five years working in any fine dining place he could
he'd been cooking since as long as he could remember, quickly figuring that if that was what he was good at and enjoyed, he would dedicate his life to it maybe sukuna lied on a resume or two, but he was gonna get to the top one way or another
somehow his arrogance seemed to work until it didn't; it'd get his foot in the door places, and then it'd turn around and get him fired a few months later
once his grandfather passed, he found himself finding his way back to Tokyo even if he didn't want to
luckily for him, his former classmate Satoru Gojo was managing a failing restaurant with an incapable cook named Mahito
Gojo was more than happy to deal with Sukuna's shit again if it meant keeping his place afloat
they're kinda friends, but it's weird because they're always mad at each other
that's how everyone's relationships with him are, though, and Sukuna's always irritating someone tbh
he has a cat- he found the little dark grey kitten asa stray feeding off scraps she found in the dumpster, so he couldn't help but scoop her up
she seemed sweet enough, but as soon as he fell asleep she nearly clawed the couch to shreds, thus earning herself the name akumu which means nightmare
she was horribly affectionate and vocal, constantly meowing for attention, but only towards sukuna and the brats, she shot dirty looks and would actively hiss at anyone else stepping foot into their house
she's his baby, but that secrets behind closed doors
she sleeps in his bed, she has a plethora of toys and collars, and don't you dare open the treat cabinet— he's not ashamed
his other secret is his back garden it wasnt like a huge secret, but it wasn't something he wanted to share with everyone either
sukuna thought he was going crazy the first time he made a dinner almost entirely from his home grown ingredients because it tasted fucking insane
he liked stroking his own ego but something about his ingredients actually made it better, Choso and Yuji couldn't even argue
it wasn't anything vast, and the variety wasn't huge but it was enough to make each meal just a bit better and it was something he held near to himself, only sharing it with his brats
i can't stop thinking ab the idea of Sukuna being a fine dining head chef and you're a server and y'all just can't stop arguing bc he's such an arrogant prick
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