Onlyfire Tabletop Gas Grill 3 Burners, 24" Propane Grill
The stainless steel BBQ gas grill with 3 powerful burners design provides up to 24,000 BTUs of heat across a large cooking surface. Cook hot dogs, burgers, chicken, and more to perfection.
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Compliments to the Line Cook
Pairing: Line Cook!Azriel x Reader
Summary: Azriel never goes for any of the girls on staff. Cassian can't figure out why—and it's pissing him off.
Word count: 1k
Warnings: None! Maybe some language but I tend to do that with modern AUs oops
a/n: Me 🤝 eventually turning to AUs for every fandom. Anyways I think I'm setting this up for a cute little series thing with oneshots because I am inspired ✨ enjoy!!
Main Masterlist ♡
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“Come on,” Cassian scoffed with an exasperated tilt of his head. “She is totally into you.”
Azriel threw his friend a look, wiping his hands on the apron tied at his waist. “I don’t care.”
“You don’t care? When’s the last time you got laid, man?”
“Last night,” Azriel simply replied. He moved the prepped onions from the counter to the fridge. “Not that it’s any of your business.”
“What? You didn’t tell me that,” Cassian pouted, pausing his spatula on the grill.
Azriel huffed out a breathy laugh, taking up his post at the prep table once more. “Do I need to tell you every detail of my sex life, Cass? Would that help you get it up? I know you struggle.”
“Hey,” Cassian called out, brows raised as Azriel met his gaze. “Fuck you. Who was it, then?”
“Well, it certainly wasn’t the barely legal host you won’t stop trying to set me up with,” Azriel grumbled.
“Dude, she’s literally 26.”
“She doesn't look 26.”
The order bell ringing punctuated the end of the pointless conversation between the two men. In truth, Cassian knew Azriel would never be interested in the new host who had been giving him eyes for the past week. Azriel was never interested in the hosts or the waitresses or even any of the customers. But he would never share why.
Cassian had grown sick of it.
He narrowed his eyes as he watched Azriel grab the ticket off the order wheel. He flicked the paper with a small hum, heading to the stove and lighting the burner.
“Fess up,” Cassian urged, plating the burger for table 12 before tossing the towel on his shoulder into the sink. “You act all mysterious but I’m not an idiot. All the girls on staff basically throw themselves at you and you ignore them. They go on and on about your tattoos even though I have just as many. Gwyn even had her hand on your chest last week and you brushed her off with that awkward pat thing you do.”
“The mean waitress doesn’t throw herself at me,” Azriel replied. He had yet to look up from the pan sizzling at his fingertips.
“Oh shut up. Nesta doesn’t count.”
“Well, you said all so…”
“I swear to god, Az, I’m going to hit you right in that pretty face of yours—what the hell are you making?” Cassian interrupted himself, whipping around from the send-out counter to inspect the odd combination of ingredients being thrown in the pan.
“An order,” Azriel stated. “I feel like you should be working.”
“I am working, asshole,” Cassian grumbled.
Azriel made a noncommittal sound and slid an omelette from the pan onto a plate. He grabbed a handful of spices from the cabinet above and continued to work on the meal. Cassian’s confusion only heightened.
“We don’t make omelettes past noon. It’s dinner. Why the hell did you make an omelette?” Cassian asked, trailing after his friend as he pushed past the swinging kitchen door. “And where the hell are you going?”
“Will your curiosity ever be satisfied?” Azriel droned. “I’m clearly walking this plate out to table eight. Go back into the kitchen. The Walters were just seated and you know they order enough to feed an army.”
Cassian ignored him, staying uncharacteristically silent as he set the intention to spy on his coworker. He let his feet stick at the entrance to the dining room, giving him a clear view of table eight and the girl with the backpack and laptop taking up its residence.
Azriel placed a steady hand on the back of the booth, his chest pressed against the girl’s shoulder as he brought the plate around and edged her laptop aside. The omelette was placed down in front of her, but Cassian was quick to notice that she didn’t even glance at it, her face turned up with a grin.
“Hi, baby,” Azriel greeted, a smile evident in his voice—a smile Cassian could hear from clear across the room. “Take a break. I made you dinner.”
“From the secret menu?” she asked with a giggle.
Cassian watched, in complete shock, as Azriel leaned down to press a long, drawn-out kiss to her temple. “Always.”
Cassian had a lot to say to that mysterious bastard.
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