#AND I HAVE A BUSSER TODAY

[janeway-lover]

Five Days Left

[thebearer]

could use a push |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: sometimes carmen needs persuasion to finish his tasks. sometimes you have to persuade him.

part of the carmen x social media manager au. the two other works follow me and fall into me can be found here <3

contains: smut. slight voyeurism-ish?? oral male receiving. super sweet and smutty. social media manager!reader. carmen hates doing tasks lol.

“Carmen,” Sydney turned, carrying a large tray of vegetables that needed to be prepped, expertly dodging the other chefs working on the line. Carmen gave a huff of a grunt, not bothering to look up from his own prep, too in the zone. 

“Chef,” Sydney huffed, firmer this time, catching his attention when the tray smacked on the counter next to him. “Someone’s in the office for you.” 

“Me?” Carmen blinked, brows pulling in a deep frown. “No, not f’me-” 

“-Yes, for you, Chef-” 

“-No, that’s Richie’s job. Cousin,” Carmen leaned back, shouting towards the swinging doors. 

“Carmen, will you- there’s someone in the office for you. Ok? They’re here for you, not Richie.” Sydney muttered, shaking her head in annoyance. 

Carmen paused, looking at Sydney. “What’re you doin’?” He asked. 

“What?” 

“No, what’re you doin’?” Carmen repeated, eyes narrowed at her skeptically. “No-No one should be in my office. I’m not doin’ the interviews for bussers, that’s Richie, so who’s in the office? Hm? What’s goin’ on?” 

“Nothing’s goin’ on, jeez.” Sydney rolled her eyes. “There is someone in the office for you.” 

“Yeah? Is it-it’s Fak? Is he fuckin’ with me? Gonna walk in there and what? Gonna spray some shit on me like we’re fuckin’ fourteen-” 

“-What? No.” Sydney frowned. “I don’t- Look, I was told not to tell you who’s in there because it’s a surprise, ok? It’s not bad. Just- Can you go in there? I don’t know why they asked me to do this, but I’m clearly not good at the whole surprise thing, so just do me a favor and go see for yourself.” 

Carmen huffed, wiping his hands on the clean towel next to him, craning to see his office from his spot. He looked at Sydney with a deadpan expression. “If I get sprayed with some shit, Chef.” 

Sydney rolled her eyes in annoyance, turning to pass the prep to the chef beside her. Carmen looked carefully to see if anyone around him was lurking, hiding in the shadows to watch him get ambushed so they could have a laugh. He felt like he was twelve again, Richie and Mikey always fucking with him so he’d get red faced and embarrassed just so they could laugh at him. 

Twisting the knob to the office, Carmen let the door fall open before he stepped towards it. Thankfully, there were no signs of shit falling from the ceiling, nobody hiding in the shadows. Instead, sitting in his office chair was a much more pleasant surprise- you. 

“Hey,” Carmen’s face lit up, lips curling in a greeting. “What- I didn’t know you were comin’ today.” 

“I decided to surprise you.” You smiled back. “Ambush you, really.” 

“Ambush?” Carmen snorted lightly, shutting the door behind him. “What’re you ambushin’ me for?” 

You stood, letting your arms wrap around his waist in greeting, lips brushing his before he took your mouth in his fully, kissing you sweetly just like he had this morning. “Mm,” You sighed, pulling back quicker than Carmen would have liked. 

“I came to ambush you for content.” You batted your eyes sweetly at him, feeling his shoulders fall under your touch. “Because you were supposed to let me shoot the new menu items this week and you still haven’t.”

“Baby,” Carmen huffed, pulling a hand away from the small of your back to rub over his forehead. “I-I don’t- Why do I have to be in them?” 

“Because people want to see you, Carm.” You glared at him lightly. “They see Marcus and Tina and Sydney all the time, and they want to see you too. You’re the head chef.” 

“Yeah, but-but why? It’s so fuckin’ stupid.” Carmen grumbled, huffy already, the start of a bickering fight you’d had a million times before. To say Carmen was camera shy was an understatement. 

“Why is it stupid?” You put your hands on your hips. “People want to feel connected. They want an inside look. They want to feel like they know you and they’re a part of something. That’s what gets people to come.” It was the same argument, every time. Carmen knew it, he understood it, he just… Well, he didn’t like it. 

“I’ll prompt you on everything to say,” You grabbed at him, trying to coo at him, coax him into finally letting him do your job. It was easier before the two of you were dating, before he was comfortable, when he’d suck it up in the name of professionalism. 

“All you have to do is cook me a dish, and answer my questions, and that’s it! It’ll be done in no time, and you can pick whichever one you want from the summer menu.” You ran a hand soothingly down his arm, over his toned bicep, trying not to drool at the definition. 

You could feel Carmen swaying already, turning into your touch, teetering on relenting. “Does it have to be a video?” Carmen grumbled, looking at you with pleading eyes. “‘M already behind and I-I need to do some prep, and-” 

“-Don’t lie to me.” You frown at him. “I asked Sydney before and she said you were all caught up for the day. Ahead, actually.” You lifted a brow in challenge. 

Carmen huffed, turning to look over his shoulder, cursing Sydney in his head. “I know your games, Berzatto.” You poked his tummy lightly, trying to lighten his mood with playfulness. The last thing you needed was him to be so sulky during the filming, ruining the content. “Know all your tricks, so don’t even try them.” 

Carmen let out a half huff, lips pursing in a tight line in defeat. He was so pouty, petulant, really, but you decided against teasing him about it. 

“One video?” Your hand slid up his chest, cupping his cheek gently, pulling his eyes back to yours, heart fluttering when his gaze was on you. “One video and… and I’ll make it up to you.” 

Carmen’s heart stuttered, leaping with excitement he tried to swallow down. “Yeah? Make it up to me how?” He muttered, voice dropping low to a near gravel. 

Your lips twitched, pulling at the corners of your mouth in a wicked, triumphant smile. “If you do the video for me today,” You purred, slowly pulling away, slinking towards the door. “I’ll owe you something later. Whatever you want.” Your lashes batted in suggestive playfulness.  

Carmen’s palms itched with excitement, swallowing around the growing lump in his throat. “Yeah?” He tried to keep his voice steady, keep it from cracking to show his eagerness. “W-What’d you have in mind?” 

You shrugged sweetly, clicking the lock on the door. “Oh, that’ll be up to you, Chef.” You grinned, Carmen’s posture going rigid with thrill. 

“But if you promise after this you’ll do my video,” You stepped towards him, toe to toe with each other, though neither touched the other. “I’ll give you a little taste of what I had in mind for later.”  

Carmen swallowed, nodding furiously. He’d blame the blood rushing from his brain to his cock as the reason he agreed so easily, the reason he was persuaded without much fight. You lifted your brows in an amused question. 

“Yeah? You’ll do it for me?” You tilted your head to the side gently. 

Carmen nodded, a flush creeping up his neck. “Yes, fuck, yeah. I-I’ll do it.” 

You grinned, sliding your hands down his arms, towards his torso. “Thank you, baby.” You hummed sweetly. “You want me to give you a little sneak peek of what I had in mind for tonight? A little thank you for now?” 

Carmen bobbed his head furiously, swallowing a shudder when your hands slid over his lower belly, slowly towards his waistband. “You want me to give you a little taste then?” You whispered, a purr in your tone that had Carmen throbbing, aching behind the zipper of his jeans. 

“Please,” Carmen croaked, jaw tight trying desperately to stay quiet. 

You grinned triumphantly, hand sliding and cupping over his bulge, palming him through his jeans. “Alright, since you asked so nicely.” You batted your lashes at him, holding his gaze as you sank to your knees in front of him. “I’ll give you a taste.” 

Carmen’s head tipped back in pleasure, swallowing a breathy moan that threatened to escape, eyes darting around the small space of his office. The door was locked, the blinds shut, but still he had a nagging fear that Richie or Sweeps or someone would bust through the door, catching the two of you in the act. His veins pricked with tingling excitement at the thought, heartbeat thudding in his ears when he looked down at you through his lashes, watching you pull him from his boxers, pumping his length. 

“Mm,” You moaned quietly, soft lips pressing even softer, feather-like kisses up his shaft. 

“Do-Don’t tease me, baby.” Carmen whispered, voice tight in a groan. You looked up at him innocently, eyes rounded sweetly. “Please.” Carmen added. 

“I won’t.” Your breath ghosted over his cock, leaving him shivering at the sensation. The pad of your thumb swiping over his already leaking head, spreading his release around. “I’ll make it quick. Just relax, Carm. I’ve got you.” 

Carmen slid a hand over his mouth, muffling a moan when you licked a stripe up the underside of his cock, tongue swirling around the head. His teeth sank into his knuckles, head tipping back towards the ceiling at the sensation. 

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fu-uck.” Carmen muttered, your free hand pumping his length, slowly taking his tip past your warm lips. Your eyes stayed on him the entire time, rounded and eager to please, eager to watch him be pleased. 

Carmen’s free hand moved to the top of your head, cradling it gently as you sucked him off, cupping his balls and massaging them. You’d always been so good at this. He’d told you that from the beginning, heart nearly exploding when you’d smiled sheepishly and asked him, “really?” in the sweetest voice he’d ever heard. 

From then on, Carmen had never failed to sing your praises- in anything you did, but especially when you gave him head. Now, he fought back the urge to groan loudly, to look down at you and say filthy, sweet things that would have you squirming, thighs rubbing together. Anywhere else but here, he would have, but he couldn’t risk the others hearing. 

Instead, he moved his hand to cup your cheek, hollowed and full with his length, thumb brushing over your cheek bone sweetly. “You’re makin’ me feel so fuckin’ good, baby. S-So fuckin’ good.” Carmen rasped, clenching his hips to keep them from bucking when you moaned around his lengths, sending shockwaves of pleasure straight to his core. He was close, you both knew it. 

You pressed the pad of your thumb gently down the seam of his balls, hitting a sweet spot Carmen didn’t even know existed until he met you, a breathy whine of a moan catching in his throat. 

“‘M close, baby. “M- Like really fuckin’ close.” Carmen whispered, brain beginning to fog, ears starting to buzz with a dull ringing that always came with his orgasms. 

You picked up speed, head bobbing at a fast rate, up and down his length, swallowing him further and further, gagging when you took him a little too far. You always looked at him with embarrassment, a little sheepish when you’d do that, like he didn’t beg for you to do it again, like he didn’t bust every time you did. 

“Shit, shit, shit, ‘M-” Carmen’s mouth fell open dumbly, eyes blowing and glazing with ecstasy, a strangled gasp and moan filling the room as he came, spilling his load down your throat. You kept pumping him through it, milking his length onto your tongue, hot release onto your taste buds while his body shook with pleasure. 

Carmen’s shoulders heaved, rounding with exhausted pleasure as he slowly came down off his high. You waited until he looked back at you, eyes meeting yours to swallow. Carmen nearly fainted right then and there at the sight. 

Thirty minutes later, you were set up with your camera, the two of you giggly and sweet in your own corner of the kitchen, while Carmen eagerly filmed your video. Even feeding you a bite when he was finished with the dish, beaming at your praise. 

[laurrelise]

okay all i want right now is an umbrella academy spinoff of just the deli fives working in the kitchen like in the bear

ok ok picture this:

deli owner five: i swear to fucking god five, if five has to wait any longer for the brisket, you’re fired.

brisket five: it’s not my fault! five still hasn’t finished the goddamn fries! (clearly at his breaking point)

fryer five: that’s because someone left his station dirty when he left after his morning shift. (also at his breaking point)

clocked-out fryer five: (sprinting out the back door) alright see you assholes tomorrow

server five: alright, i try not to get on you guys about ticket times… but five looks like he’s about ready to walk out.

deli owner five: fuck, give him a free dessert.

server five: okay, but can we hurry this shit up? i’d like a tip if that’s alright with you dickheads.

brisket five: get the hell out of my kitchen.

busser five: (bursting in with a full bin of dirty dishes) drunk five is demanding a fluffernutter and making a scene again.

deli owner five: (shuffling through countless tickets and slamming his fist on the counter) i have zero goddamn time for this five, we’re slammed with this lunch rush and im down two cooks today. help a guy out and get him to leave.

busser five: you pay me minimum wage and i could not give less of a shit. i’m not dealing with him again.

drunk five, bursting into the kitchen: i knew i smelled peanut butter in here (pointing at brisket five who’s currently on grill preparing a burger)

brisket five: this is literally a beef patty

deli owner five: alright man, we’ve tried to play nice, but you’re out of here. let’s go, don’t make a scene. (pulling drunk five out by his collar and dusting off his hands) fuckin’ hell, none of you make it easy, do you?

brisket five:

booth five watching from the dining room: jesus christ

[gurugirl]

The Warning | bfd!harry

best friend's dad!harry x reader | forbidden relationship

Summary: You and Harry are trying to heal after coming clean to everyone and Mrs. Styles comes to you with a warning.

Word Count: 4.5k

Warning: 18+ only, smut, angst, mentions of cheating and divorce, age gap, an uncomfortable confrontation

Best Friend's Dad!Harry Masterlist

You missed the occasional texts from Fae. Goofy memes or links to TikTok videos she knew you’d like. Recipes for you two to try. Screenshots from conversations with guys on Tinder.

There was nothing but silence from her for weeks at that point. And being blocked by her on every social media site you two were both on was glaring. It hurt. But what could you do? You’d categorically fucked up. There was no coming back from what you’d done to her family.

Most of your mutual friends were on Fae’s side and had also blocked you. Which you deserved and expected to be honest.

Harry slowly moved his things in. It took a couple of weeks. Every time he went home he tried to go at a time he thought his wife, well, he was calling her his ex now, wasn’t going to be there.

But, that afternoon, when he came home after you’d just had the worst shift you’d ever had in your life he was clearly upset. On edge.

And even though you’d had a terrible day you wanted to make sure he was okay, “Hey, are you all right?” You hugged one of his arms to your body after he sat a box full of his things down.

He smiled at you and brushed his fingers up the back of your neck, “She was there. It was awful. She’s just so full of rage toward me. And I get it, but it took a lot out of me. Better now, though,” he dropped his face to yours to kiss your mouth.

His kisses and his touches always made you feel better too. It was like everything outside of your little apartment was crashing down around you both, but as long as you stayed inside together you’d be okay.

He told you how his day at work was and then you both sat down on the couch and cuddled together, “How was your day at work, baby? I haven’t asked how your day was yet.”

You placed your chin on the top part of his arm as you looked up at him, “Horrible. Caressa is really mean. I think she’s trying to make me quit.”

Harry’s brows pulled together as he wrapped his arms around you, “Really? What has she been doing?”

“Well, last night she put me at the back. I had too many tables and no one to help because the bussers and floaters don’t go into the back when the restaurant is busy. They usually have two people waiting at the back to cover things but I was by myself so it was really stressful and the people I served were getting impatient with me so my tips were awful. And today I only had 2 tables my entire shift so I barely made any tips at all. I asked her if she could give me at least one more when a group came in but she just stared at me and laughed like I was crazy for asking,” You frowned. “Oh, and she updated the schedule without telling me. She’s got me off for five days in a row where I was supposed to be working all those days.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about this last night?” He rubbed his hand up and down your back.

“I just didn’t feel like rehashing it last night. Didn’t want to think about work at all.”

Harry pulled you into his body until you were sitting in his lap with your legs on one side. You rested your head on his chest and closed your eyes. Everything was better when you were with Harry.

“Quit your job. You don’t deserve to be treated like that. And if she’s trying to sabotage you then it’s not going to be worth it to fight for it when you’re not making tips anyway.”

You sighed. It already looked like that’s where it was heading. Caressa had been cold to you since she learned it was in fact Harry that she’d seen that day. Of course, she sided with her friend and started treating you like the tramp you were.

You and Harry made dinner together and then cleaned up the kitchen after eating, “Have you heard anything from Fae?” You asked.

Harry shook his head, “Not yet.”

You frowned, “I hope she comes around.”

“I think she will. Eventually.”

You hoped he was right.

When you’d both finally climbed into bed together you snuggled into Harry like you always did. And even with the stress of everything going on outside you two always found a way to unwind together and being intimate (which usually included sex) seemed to help you both calm down and sleep well through the night.

Harry’s hand dragged up and down your back, as you nosed at his shoulder with your thigh hitched over his hip, “I love you, baby. Can I make you feel better?”

You smiled in the dark, “I think we both need to feel better.”

Harry’s chuckle vibrated from his chest as he dropped his hand to your bottom and pushed at the fabric of your panties until they were down around your thighs.

He kissed you gently and ran his hand over your breasts and then downward to your labia.

You pushed at Harry’s underwear and slid your hand under the band and smoothed your palm over his cock.

With mouths connected you both gently got one another worked up. Harry’s fingers soon became messy with your slick arousal, and Harry’s cock hardened with the stimulation from your hand rubbing over his shaft.

“You want to be fucked, little girl,” Harry teased as he spoke against your lips.

“Yes, I do, Mr. Styles. Please.”

Harry groaned. He enjoyed it when you called him Mr. Styles or Sir. Lately, it had just been Harry as things seemed so serious with everything going on.

“Mmm… love that,” he smiled into the kiss as he pushed you down to your back and quickly rid himself of his underwear as you kicked yours the rest of the way down your legs.

He ran his tip through your pussy lips and inhaled deeply as he pushed into you. You felt yourself stretch around him and moaned in relief.

“It’s so good with you, sir. I need you,” you cooed.

Harry’s languid strokes long and deep always had you weak. You felt his fingers wrap around the back of your neck as he brought his mouth against yours with a whimper.

It might have been the quietest sex you’d ever had together. Harry kept his unhurried pace, deep and searing while he kissed you. Your body was on fire. You’d come soon.

But then his next words against your lips changed the mood and had your head spinning and your heart pounding, “Wanna be my wife? Have my babies, Y/n? Want to show everyone you’re mine?”

His harsh rut into you had you inhaling a sharp breath as your eyes popped open and you arched your back into him., “Yes, Harry…”

“Yeah? Wanna be my Mrs. Styles? Have your pussy fucked and filled every day?”

“God… fuck yes, Harry…” you groaned loudly and somehow you felt yourself grow wetter at his words.

“M’gonna give you a big ring and keep you properly fucked, baby. Okay? Show everyone this is real.”

His words were thick and deep and with his lips against yours, you could almost taste them. It made your mouth water. That you’d be his wife and get his cock every night. Prove everyone wrong. Give him a few babies. It was just a fantasy at that point but it sounded exactly like what you wanted.

“Oh my god…” you gasped. Harry was fucking into you harder and your bed began to rock and your quiet sex turned wet and loud. He still had his hand at the back of your neck, almost cradling your head as he gently squeezed and kissed you, his cock spreading you apart as he thrust deeply hips pasted to yours. “This is real. You and me,” you moaned.

You felt Harry begin to quiver over your body as he gasped, “Want all of you, baby. Want every inch of you to be mine.”

You nodded as the tip of your orgasm started to wind its way through your system, “Every inch of me is yours. From the first time you fucked me, Harry.”

He lifted himself slightly and pulled himself out to his tip before driving back into you, repeatedly fucking himself into you in punishing strokes.

You grunted at each plunge and clung to his love handles as you unraveled loudly.

“There you go,” he groaned, “Sweetest girl. Gonna give this to you every day, baby,” he began to thrust erratically, his hips swaying and grinding into you.

Your ears rang as your orgasm wiped you out. You heard Harry loudly moan in time with his thrusts just as began to come inside of you. You felt the sharp punches of his cock against your cervix as he unloaded himself within your pulsing walls. Just like you loved. The final moment of your orgasm with his long dick reaching into your cervix making you ache and swell as he throbbed and pumped into you.

You’d happily be his wife and give him babies and rub it in everyone’s face with how wrong they all were about you and Harry. This man was the love of your life.

.           .           .

“I can’t believe you’re hooking up with Fae’s dad,” Paloma whispered to you as you sat at the little table in your favorite café. A café you and Fae often met up at.

“Well, we’re not just hooking up. But yeah. I feel really bad about everything but...” you trailed off as you shrugged and took a bite of your pastry.

She nodded at you excitedly. Paloma was a mutual friend of yours and Fae’s. She was always closer to you, though. But when she found out about your affair (thanks to Fae) she called you to get the tea directly from the source.

“I always thought her dad was so hot. It’s crazy that this is real. That he left his wife for you? You know that’s not typical, right? Usually, affairs don’t wind up with the man leaving his wife for his side piece.”

 You cringed. You hated that was the perception. But you let it slide. You figured she wouldn’t exactly understand everything but it felt good to talk to someone about it who wasn’t your mother.

“I know. That’s why when we started everything it was just going to be like… not serious you know. We’d end things before it got to be too much. Before anyone found out or got hurt. But we both fell in love. I don’t know how we could have stopped it.”

“Fae despises you and her dad. When she called me I was confused because she never reaches out to me but then I realized she wanted to make sure as many people knew as possible,” Paloma laughed, “I mean… I was shocked but I’m still your friend. I can’t judge you for what you’ve done.”

“So you don’t think I’m a bad person?”

She chuckled, “Well, I don’t agree with what you did but I could never think you’re a bad person. You can’t help who you fall in love with.”

You drank your hot tea and tried to enjoy yourself with your friend but the longer you and Paloma chatted, the more you missed Fae. No one could replace Fae. She was your other half in so many ways.

“Can I ask you a really personal question? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want.”

You shrugged, “Okay. Sure.” You had an idea of what she was going to ask based on the fact that you’d gotten onto the topic of birth control.

“Is he good? Now that I’m thinking about him like that I can imagine he is.”

You breathed out laughed through your nose and smiled as you looked down into your tea, “He’s good. Yes.” You weren’t sure how deep into it you wanted to get but you’d entertain her for a bit.

“And I bet he’s got a big… dick.” She whispered the word dick quietly.

That’s where you drew the line. You sipped your warm tea and turned your gaze to the corner of the room where someone was just taking their seat.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” she spoke, drawing your attention back to her.

“It’s okay. I’m not sure I want to talk about that anymore, though. Tell me what you’ve been up to.”

It turned out that Paloma didn’t have much to say about herself. She gave you the tiniest bit of information, where she was working, that she’d dated someone a couple of months back and that it didn’t work out, and how she was planning a vacation to Cancun. But that’s it.

It felt strange to divulge such personal things to someone who gave you so little in return. And you should have known that’s what was going to happen. She wanted the dirty details about you and Harry. She wasn’t there to be a friend. Not really. She wasn’t rude but you saw that her motivation was to sate her curiosity.

Maybe you were better off just confiding in your mother. Though, she never asked you things about how sex was with Harry. She always only wanted you to be happy and doing your best.

And it would have been fun to discuss in detail how good you were getting it with Harry. And if Fae weren’t his daughter you’d do that with her. Tell her all about how insane his body is, how strong he is, how big his cock is, and how he eats you out almost every day. You’d totally brag about him with her if things were different. But instead, you were stuck with Paloma who you didn’t want to give too many details to. And besides, you and Harry were still healing. To talk about how he was in bed didn’t seem right. Especially when you didn’t know who she was going to tell.

You stopped at the grocery store on your way home to get some things you needed and you picked up one of those cheap grocery store flower bouquets. Harry had stopped having them sent when shit hit the fan and he moved in. You didn’t know if it was because they were so expensive or just because he hadn’t thought about it what with everything going on, but you figured a small bouquet might feel nice to have in the apartment.

But when you pulled into your building’s parking lot you saw, what looked like Mrs. Styles’ car parked at the front. Of course, perhaps it was someone else’s, you were a bit paranoid lately. You always had your eyes roaming around just in case you accidentally ran into her or Fae.

With one arm occupied by your grocery bag and your other hand holding the small bouquet, you slowly walked up the steps toward your door and thought, maybe it wasn’t Mrs. Styles. Perhaps it was actually just someone with a car like hers. Plus how silly for her to confront you. What good would that do anyone?

“Y/n. I’ve been waiting for you.”

You heard her voice before you saw her and then felt her pull your bag from your arm, “Let me help you. Looks like you’ve got your hands full.”

You felt your vision blur and shade in with red as your heart pummeled in your chest, “Oh. Thank you, Mrs. Styles.” It was difficult to hide the shock you felt. You were sure she saw it.

You put your key into your door to unlock it and did some quick math in your mind for when Harry would be coming home. You didn’t want to be with Mrs. Styles alone. In your apartment.

“Cute. Kind of small,” she commented as she walked into your home behind you. She’d never visited before. “I’ll set this in the kitchen here, then?” She pointed to what was very obviously your kitchen.

“Yes. Sure. Thank you.”

She sat the bag on the countertop and you laid the bouquet on your little round kitchen table. You didn’t know what she wanted. What her intentions were. You weren’t sure you wanted to know.

She leaned her hip to the counter and crossed her arms over her chest as she looked at you, taking in your outfit. You felt like you should have dressed nicer. Maybe you would have put more thought into your outfit if you knew you’d be seeing Mrs. Styles. You were wearing jeans with holes in the knees and a hoodie.

You kept thinking of things to say to fill in the very uncomfortable silence. One was that Harry would be home soon, but that felt wrong to say to the woman who was still married to him. Another was to ask her how she’d been doing. Also, not a good question to ask.

“Uh, would you like some water?” You walked toward the cupboard to pull out a couple of glasses. Even if she didn’t want one you needed it.

“No, thank you.”

You nodded to yourself as you poured a glass with water and took a gulp to soothe your dry throat.

“Would you like to sit?” You carried your glass to the kitchen table and gestured at it as you looked back toward her.

Her eyes pierced through you coolly, “No, thank you.”

You leaned your bottom into the table and looked down at your linoleum floor. You hated this. You had no idea how to do this with her. Whatever this was.

“Did you,” you looked up at her eyes, “Want to talk? Or…?”

“I don’t know that you and I have much to discuss that won’t end with hurt feelings. I just came here to see you again and say my peace. It was hard for me to remember what you looked like in my mind. I always imagine you as a high school girl even though I know you’re an adult and I’ve seen you as an adult. Kind of like how I see Fae still. My little girl,” she smiled. “And so with you, you were still a high school girl in my mind’s eye. Quiet. Polite. Fae’s closest and dearest friend. A warm and bright girl that I loved like my own daughter,” her words were razor blades.

“But I couldn’t imagine what you looked like anymore now that you’ve done something so unlike the girl I used to know. I needed to see you for what you are now. The person who’s sleeping with my husband. Who threw away a relationship with my daughter, who is the most beautiful and loving young woman anyone could ever know. And now I see it. I never saw it before but it was always there wasn’t it?”

You shook your head, “I never wanted to hurt–“

“No one ever does, Y/n. No one with any amount of good in their heart ever wants to hurt anyone much less themselves. But you’ve done it haven’t you? You’ve hurt Fae. You’ve hurt me. You’ve hurt Harry. And worst of all is that you’ve hurt yourself.”

She wasn’t wrong about anything she said. You had caused a lot of pain. You hurt people that meant a lot to you. Mrs. Styles, at one time, had meant a lot to you. But now it felt like she was a stranger in your apartment. Someone you didn’t want there.

“I get it, now, though. Looking at you. I was so confused at first. I thought why would Harry even look at you in that way? So I just came here to see if I could make sense of that and you as you are now. And… yeah I see it. You’re lovely. Definitely his type. And you’re sweet too. God that makes it so hard to hate you. I really wanted to hate you too but instead, I just hate Harry now. Because this is really his fault in the end. I mean, don’t get me wrong,” she laughed incredulously, “I don’t like you one bit anymore. But I can’t hate you.”

You couldn’t keep eye contact with her. It felt like you were being incinerated.

“Harry’s had a lot of women after him in the past. Even after we were married women would flirt and try to get close to me just so they could get closer to him. It was funny because I noticed all of that. I was aware of what they were doing. Even had to cut a good friend out after she drunkenly admitted she wanted to sleep with him. He’s such an attractive man. Believe me, I know. I always knew other women found him sexy. But with you? Never had a clue. Wouldn’t have ever imagined it.”

You felt numb. You had no idea how to respond or even if you should.

“Anyway,” she pushed herself away from the counter and clapped her hands together with a faux smile, “That’s all I wanted to say. I hope you’re prepared for him to break your heart. Because this won’t last, Y/n. I don’t want him anymore but I’m just giving you a warning. If he can throw away a 24-year marriage for a 24-year-old girl whom he has nothing in common with, then just expect him to do something that catches you off guard.”

She walked past you to your front door and you listened as she opened and closed it behind her. You couldn’t move from your spot. You tried to breathe to calm yourself and not overthink the words she said.

You knew that she was angry and some of what she said was an attempt to get under your skin. To make you feel bad. Which you already did feel bad, of course. But now it felt suffocating. Felt like there were cracks starting to gape and widen between you and Harry but you needed to not allow that, as hard as it was. Hard not to take heed of her advice and note how other women wanted him and how he strayed from his wife whom he was married to for 24 years.

When Harry finally came home you didn’t know how long you’d been standing there at your kitchen table. You hadn’t moved a muscle. Your groceries hadn’t been put away. The flowers were still lying on your table. You were caught in your mind and battling not to allow your doubts about Harry to overcome you. Because you knew he loved you, you reminded yourself.

“Baby,” He wrapped his arms around your front as he stood behind you and kissed your temple, “Got groceries and flowers?”

You nodded shallowly.

He kissed you again and then you felt his face next to yours, could see from your peripheral that he was looking at you. He pulled his arms away and stepped to face you, pulling your hands into his, “Honey, what’s wrong?”

You slowly brought your gaze to his and immediately you felt better. His eyes. His concern. His warmth. And you could see the way he loved you. He loved you. You stepped toward him and put your arms around his middle and smushed your ear into his chest as you finally let your tears pour.

Harry drew his arms tight around you, “Baby, what happened? Tell me what’s wrong?”

You choked out a sob and squeezed him even more.

Harry sat down in a chair, and kept you with him, pulling you into his lap as he cupped your face and tried to look at you, “Sweetheart, you’re worrying me. Did something happen?”

You nodded and pushed your face back into his chest. You wished you could stop your tears and just tell him but you could barely sputter a word out.

He rubbed your back and gently rocked you as you cried in his arms and wetted his nice button-shirt with your tears.

When you felt better and felt like you could speak, your first words came out sounding so tiny and pathetic, “I’m sorry.”

“Shh, shh, shhh…” he softly hushed you, “Don’t be sorry, baby. Can you tell me what happened?”

You sniffed and looked up at him, “She… your wife. She came here.”

Harry’s face dropped, “What happened? What did she say?”

“She just wanted to see me and tell me what she thought about everything. I couldn’t even speak I was so nervous. She wasn’t here long.”

He nodded and used his thumbs to wipe your tears, “I will have a talk with her. She should not have come here. She has no business to do such a thing.”

You leaned into his touch as he wiped your tears.

“What did she say to make you so upset? Talk to me.”

“Just that you’ll hurt me eventually and you and I have nothing in common. She wasn’t mean, though. Everything she said was true about me. How I hurt everyone. And she said that other women want you too and…” you swallowed. You could hardly put your thoughts together coherently.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Y/n. And you know it’s not true that we have nothing in common. You and I get along perfectly. She’s just upset. You know that right?”

You nodded.

“And I don’t care how many women find me attractive, or even how many men find you attractive. None of that matters. You know that.”

“I know. She was just upset. It just scared me that I had to confront her alone. And I hate how she looks at me now. I’m the woman who took her husband.”

When your tears had finally dried, Harry helped you put the groceries away and put the flowers in a pretty vase to display.

“I need to have flowers delivered again. These are pretty but I like the ones Florero delivers.”

You wrapped your arms around Harry’s middle and looked up at him, “You’re so sweet but you don’t have to. I know those were expensive. I just thought any flowers would look nice so I picked them up on a whim.”

“You deserve flowers from Florero, baby,” he kissed your forehead. “I just forgot about it since everything that happened and moving here with you. But you still deserve nice things.”

You really didn’t feel like you needed nice things. Harry had never done all that much in the way of spending money on you. It was flowers, some jewelry, food, a toy. Things like that. But you were happy to just have him. You were happy that he was yours. And as awful as it was to feel the way you did, you were glad he chose you because you were always going to choose him.

Harry smushed you against his chest, “You know how much I love you, Y/n. I would choose you over and over again. No matter how hard it gets. Never let anyone’s words convince you otherwise.”

And there wasn’t a single part of you that didn’t believe him.

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[herejusttosufferalong]

::strolls through restaurant straightening tables and picking up chairs recently knocked over by patrons abruptly leaving::

Well, hey there, y’all! It’s been a busy day today. Looks like quite a few people got upset with the background entertainment and decided not to wait for dinner service. Now we have some extra space to spread out and get comfy. 

Just a few updates: The Italian section of the menu has been 86’d for, um, obvious reasons. We are unfortunately running low on cheese. It may or may not have something to do with the adorable grey rat wearing a chef’s hat in back of house. Our shipment of lettuce arrived rotten right to the core and there is a good chance additional rotten shipments will be forthcoming. I can only pray to the prophet that my produce man Dipsy gets his shit together. 

Please feel free to grab coffee, tea, water, and sodas from the drink station next to the counter. We have a BYOB license and just ask that you drink responsibly, especially when interacting with other patrons. We will likely still have some folks wandering about who don’t understand how these types of dining establishments work. Kindly help them read the menu and learn the specials as you are able and willing to do so. 

All the greatest chefs know the best meals take proper planning and time. Our master chefs are working on their mis en place separately at the moment, but they will soon be sharing a cutting board. Please have a little patience and don’t get sidetracked by the bussers and waitstaff acting like they own the place. 

��🥃

[rollinouttahere-writes]

yandere jabra x woman reader

I'm on the Hunt, I'm After You

Yandere Jabra x Fem!Reader

Chapter 1

3.6k words

Warnings: harassment, unwanted advances and touching, implied stalking, yandere

“Oh (Y/N), your favorite regular is here~!” Gatherine called out in a singsong voice.

“No! Come on! He was just here for breakfast, you can’t be serious!” You slapped the order ticket onto the table and spun around to face her.

“Yes, and now he’s back for lunch,” she snickered, absolutely no sympathy for your plight. 

“My entire section is packed full, you’re just trying to pawn your customers off on me!” You hissed.

“Oh trust me, he’s in your section. When the hostess tried to explain that there weren’t any openings in your section, he went over there and threw out the people at one of your tables.”

You gawked at the woman, aghast at how casually she was telling you all of this, “Are you kidding me? I don’t suppose he got them to leave the money for their bill behind first, did he?”

“Probably not, but I’m sure you could get him to pay it if you play your cards right,” she winked at you, and the subtext was heard loud and clear.

“Ew, no thanks,” you had to suppress the urge to gag. “He’s so sleazy, how in the hell did you ever date him?”

“I mean, it wasn’t for very long, but he really wasn’t bad or anything. Kinda clingy, though. But now I’ve got my sights set on someone else,” she sighed dreamily.

“And how’s that working for you?” You asked dryly, rolling your eyes. How anyone could want to pursue someone like Rob Lucci was beyond you. Sure, he’s good looking, but that ice cold look in his eyes was extremely off putting.

“It’ll happen,” she spoke resolutely. “These things take time, you know.”

“Yeah, sure.” You had your doubts about her most recent romantic pursuit, but that really wasn’t your business. You ripped another order ticket off your pad and scribbled down your regular’s usual lunch order before placing it with the rest. Fortunately, that man was predictable in what he ordered, so you could spare yourself at least one trip to his table.

Gatherine was continuing to wax poetic about Rob Lucci behind you, but you had your own problems to worry about. You grabbed a bottle of sake from the liquor cabinet and an ochoko to bring with you to the table. 

The kitchen door stood before you, acting as the last barrier between you and the customers. You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to relax. It’s just another customer. A creepy and annoying one, sure, but it was nothing to get so bent out of shape over. You’ll be fine.

With a nod, you confidently walk out and scan the room to figure out which of your tables had been evicted. It didn’t take long to do so, Jabra stuck out from the other customers. Much to your chagrin, he made eye contact and flashed you his typical wolfish grin. As per usual, he was happy to see you.

Making sure to keep your face as neutral as possible, you approached the table he had commandeered. He was here alone this time, which was less than ideal for you. If he was with one of his colleagues, the experience was much more tolerable since they would tend to keep him distracted. Kumadori, as dramatic as he was, kept Jabra more than occupied with his antics, and Fukuro was fun to have around because he would always let loose some piping hot gossip. It was especially funny when the tea he was spilling was at Jabra’s expense.

Alas, you would have no such fun today. 

The ochoko is set onto the table and you pour a generous helping of sake into it, “Good afternoon, sir. I don’t suppose you would know what happened to the people who were here before, would you?” Of course, you already knew what had happened, but you wanted to make the bastard explain himself in hopes that maybe, just maybe, he would feel a bit of shame.

Their plates and glasses were still on the table, though they had all been pushed to one side. You’ll have to flag down a busser to get that cleaned up, lest the manager complains about looking “unprofessional”.

Jabra grins, “Oh, them? They were already done eating, so they let me have their table.”

Your eyes drift over to the half eaten meals, “Is that what happened?”

“What? Are you calling me a liar? That hurts, you know!” Taking a page out of Kumadori’s book, he dramatically clutched at his chest as if your words were so sharp that they actually cut you.

You rolled your eyes, not caring if he saw it, “I would never.” Every syllable was completely flat and monotone.

“Well, maybe I pressured them a little,” he snickered. “Did they not pay before they left?”

More like before they were kicked out. Whatever, you don’t want to prolong this interaction by arguing with him, “Nope, can’t say they did.” 

Jabra gasped in mock outrage, “How could they do something like that to you?! Some people are shameless!” He could say that again. He dug around in his pocket, “Tell you what, I’ll cover their bill. I would hate for you to have to pay because they ran out on you.”

Thank god, you had been worried that you were going to have to foot the bill. Jabra acting like this wasn’t completely his fault was certainly annoying, but you could take it if it meant not losing a chunk of your paycheck over his stunt. A wad of cash was held out to you, but all you did was stare at it.

“That is way too much.” Without even counting it, you knew that was easily three or four times their bill.

“C’mon, just take it. It’s a nice tip, isn’t it?” Undeterred by your hesitation, he holds it out more, trying to force the money into your hand. 

You took a decisive step back. You know what game he’s playing here. He isn’t being generous to make up for evicting your table, he’s trying to make it so that you feel like you owe him. Your hands fidgeted with your apron, “It’s too much, I can’t accept that.” The last thing you wanted was for him to have some perceived leverage on you and try to use that against you.

“Since when do waitresses refuse tips?” His fingers drummed against the table, the once relaxed smile had become rigid. “How about this: You can use this to cover my meal, too.”

Even if you took what his bill would be into account, it would still be an absurdly large tip. Now you were torn between standing your ground so as to not give him an in, and caving so that he doesn’t get upset.

Apparently, your internal debate was taking too long for his liking. Jabra reached forward suddenly, grabbed your apron, and yanked you towards him. You yelped as you stumbled and scrambled to stabilize yourself. The first thing that your hand found purchase on was his shoulder. If you hadn't grabbed onto something you would have fallen right onto him. Now that you think about it, that was likely what he had hoped would have happened. 

Sleazy pervert.

Jabra took advantage of the close proximity to stuff the money into your apron. Rather than retracting his hand now that his mission was accomplished, he rested it on your hip, thumb tracing circles over it, “See? You’ve got the money and nothing bad happened”

You begged to differ. Between the smarmy smile on his face and the unwanted touches, you had to fight the impulse to slap him. He deserved it, but unfortunately that would absolutely get you fired. You had to settle for wrenching yourself out of his grip and taking several steps back this time. Through clenched teeth, you mutter out a ‘thanks’.

Taking a moment to calm down, you try to excuse yourself, “I need to go tend to other tables now.”

You try to hurry past him, but he catches your wrist, “Hey, wait! You haven't taken my order yet.”

“You get the same thing every time, I already submitted the order to the kitchen.”

His smile widened, “Well maybe I want to try something new, you never know.”

This man was definitely trying to get a rise out of you. You haven’t bothered giving him a menu after the first time when he waved it off and said he didn’t need one. But if he wanted to play stupid games, then you suppose it was your right to let him have stupid prizes. For once, you found yourself to be the one grinning. Albeit maliciously. 

“Alright. I’ll cancel the lamb chops and fetch you our vegetarian menu to look over.” His smile dropped and he looked downright panicked. Deciding to take it a step further, you reach for the sake bottle, “My bad for bringing this out, I’ll switch it out for some water. Good on you for making healthier choices.”

Finally, his hand abandoned your wrist and snatched the sake bottle out of our other hand, “Whoa there, I was just joking!” Once the adrenaline rush of almost losing his precious alcohol passed, he chuckled, “Didn’t know you could be so funny, rabbit.”

The nickname made you scowl, you hated when he called you that. Any attempt at expressing as much only seemed to encourage him to use it more, so you’ve learned to bite your tongue.

Jabra leaned forward and propped his chin up on his fist, “It’s sweet of you to remember what I like.”

“I’m just doing my job,” you explained flatly before bolting out of there. You wiped your palms on your apron, they had become uncomfortably sweaty during that whole interaction. Him being touchy wasn’t anything new, but he was escalating it beyond the point where you could grin and bear it for the sake of employment. You don’t remember him being this bad when him and Gatherine were still together. Then again, you really hadn’t been paying that much attention, so maybe you just missed it. 

What had you done to be forced to endure this treatment? Even if you did get fired, you couldn’t escape. Working at a place as secretive as Enies Lobby came with pros and cons. Sure, you were being paid extremely well, but that came at the price of not being able to leave freely. If this job didn’t work out, you would be shuffled to a different, less desirable position. Waiting tables was among the better positions given that you made tips on top of a decent wage. You were only five months in on a ten year contract. 

Based on what you’ve heard from your coworkers, you would be pressured to renew your contract after it ends, and if you did choose to leave it was a grueling process involving being thoroughly interrogated to ensure you hadn’t overheard anything you weren’t supposed to. It’s been said that being allowed to leave was virtually impossible and unheard of, they always find something to justify keeping you here. Hell, you wouldn’t be surprised if speaking to Fukuro was an immediate disqualifier in and of itself. 

The odds of ever being able to leave were unlikely to say the least. This was something you hadn’t known until after you were hired and signed the contract, but that seemed to be the case for everyone. It was scary and disheartening, but you’re trying to stay positive.

If you could just keep this up, your family would be set for at least the next ten years. You sent them almost everything you made, only keeping enough for the most basic of living expenses. Even when you were living as barebones as you were, it felt luxurious by comparison to what you were used to. Your home island was so poverty stricken that your family’s only hope for survival was for as many of you as possible to leave and send back money to those who couldn’t. A handful of your cousins had also applied to work here, but only you were hired. Presumably because of your brother being a promising marine that was climbing the ranks. No doubt he put in a good word for you.

Was it selfish to wish he hadn’t? Probably, but there’s no point in dwelling on that, is there?

After you finished checking on your other tables, you went over to the register with the bill from the guests Jabra had thrown out. You paid it and couldn’t help but be awed by how much berry was still left over. It was enough for a month of groceries back home. You can’t fathom being paid so well that this would be seen as disposable income.

As uncomfortable as Jabra made you… your family needed this money. Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing to indulge him at least a little if it meant keeping your loved ones from starving. Maybe you could learn to take it in stride and not let it get under your skin when he leered at you like you were a piece of meat.

You shoved the money into one of your pockets and lightly slapped your face. You’re on the clock, now isn’t the time to be getting hung up on your unfortunate situation. Spinning on your heels, you head for the kitchen to see if any of your orders are ready yet.

Someone was coming up on your side, and you turned slightly to see who it was. William, one of the busboys on shift today was heading for the kitchen as well with a tub full of dishes. Oh right, you needed him to clean off one of your tables.

“Hey, Will. After you drop that off could you clean off table 13 for me? Jabra’s at it, but he kicked out the people who were there and their plates need to be taken away.”

He stopped dead in his tracks and gaped at you, “He kicked them out? The fuck is his problem?”

You snorted, “Do you think I know?”

The tub was unceremoniously dropped on a nearby counter and Will less-than-subtly looked out over the dining room. His lip pulled back in disgust when his eyes landed on Jabra and the leftover remains of the previous diners’ meals. He ran a hand through his frizzy red hair and huffed, “What a fucking creep, he’s lucky he’s so high up because if he wasn’t I would kick his sorry ass myself.”

The bold threat made you chuckle. Will was like this with all of the staff here. He didn’t give a shit if someone was a high ranking marine or government agent, he would call out anyone for making the wait staff uncomfortable. Well, almost anyone. Even he knew better than to confront a member of CP9.

“Thanks for worrying about me, but it’s fine. I can handle it.”

Just like that, his attention was back on you. His arms crossed over his chest as he regarded you with an exasperated expression, “Just because you can “handle it” doesn’t mean you should have to. That asshole needs to learn to leave you the hell alone. He didn’t get handsy again this time, did he?”

The way that you immediately averted your gaze and grimaced answered his question. His expression darkened and he began untying his apron, “I’ll kill him.”

“No! No you will not! It will be the other way around, calm down!” You latched onto his arm and tried to talk some sense into your hot headed coworker. “It’s fine, really!”

Will was glowering in Jabra’s direction. His chest heaved with each agitated breath and his hands clenched and unclenched repeatedly. Sharply, he turned his attention to you. His rage contorted face slowly relaxed into a deep scowl and he sighed, “Fine. Whatever. He’s lucky you’re holding me back.”

“Sure he is. Now get back to work before Mal catches us slacking off.” The manager, Mallory as she preferred to be called, was a hardass. You did NOT want to be caught being idle by her.

“Yeah, you’re right. But hey, you better let me know if that creep tries anything else. Even if I can’t beat his ass, maybe we can get something worked out so that you’re less likely to see him.”

You shook your head, “Okay, mom, will do.”

Will grumbled at you to watch it, but ultimately decided to drop the matter for now. You approach and go through the kitchen doors, keeping them open just long enough for William to slip in before they can close. You check the counter and find that fresh plates of hot food are being piled on and one of the cooks slaps the bell a couple of times to signify that an order is ready. From the looks of it, there are a few orders done. 

A quick glance at the tickets confirms that most of these are for your section, so you waste no time piling them onto a tray so you can haul all of these out at once. One of the completed orders was Jabra’s, much to your dismay. You just got away from him and now you’re going to be forced to go back. Lucky you.

Wanting to prolong the inevitable, you saved his table for last. None of the customers you had leading up to him were feeling particularly chatty, so this wound up not being as much of a buffer as you had hoped.

Sucking in a breath and plastering a fake smile onto your face, you hurry over with the hope of dropping off the plate and running before Jabra could harass you again. The table had been cleared, and you can’t help but wonder if Will was mean mugging Jabra the entire time he was there. 

“Here’s your meal,” you state plainly.

You tried to just keep going, you really did, but Jabra’s arm snaked around your waist, effectively keeping you from running. Your mind was screeching for him to stop touching you, but such comments had to stay in your mind.

“What’s the rush? It’s like you’re trying to run away from me,” Jabra’s tone was teasing. If only he knew how right he was. Or maybe he did and this was all some sick joke to him.

“We’re in the middle of the lunch rush, I have a lot to do right now,” you’re surprised at how calm your voice is despite how irritable you felt. Hopefully he’ll accept the answer and let go of you. His grip was so strong that you couldn’t easily step out of it.

“I guess you’ve got a point, I won’t keep you here long.” If only he wouldn’t keep you here at all. “It’s a shame you have to work so hard. Why don’t you let me take you somewhere nice tonight?”

There he goes again. This was far from the first time he made this proposal. He’s nothing if not persistent, you’ll give him that. Your nails dug into your palm as you mulled over your excuse this time. Hanging out with Gatherine? No, you’ve used that too many times. It’s not like he was going to stop if you gave a masterful excuse, you suppose anything would work, “Sorry, I’m going to be busy cleaning tonight.” This wasn’t even a lie, you’ve been meaning to do a deep clean of your apartment for a month now.

Jabra huffed, “You’re going to work all day here only to go home and work some more? Come on, let me treat you to a fun night. It’ll be nice, I promise.” His arm constricted, forcing you even closer.

“I’ve been putting this off for a while, I really want to get it done,” you insisted.

A tense staredown ensued, and you weren’t sure who would win. Would you lose your nerve and break eye contact first, or would he give up? The hair on the back of your neck felt like it was standing up from the tension in the air. His jaw was tight. It appeared your string of rejections were starting to get to him.

“Alright, I get it,” Shockingly, he let go of you and looked down at his food instead.

For a moment, you were too stunned to move. “I get it”? Did he finally get the hint? He shot a questioning look over his shoulder when you didn’t immediately leave, and that was enough to prompt you into scurrying off. You’re not sure what made him see the light, but who were you to look a gift horse in the mouth? 

Despite the discomfort you just felt, you went about your shift with a skip in your step. The possibility that Jabra was going to leave you alone was downright euphoric. You felt bad for whoever was going to be his next unlucky target, but at least you were in the clear! The tips would be missed, but you would allow yourself to be selfish just this once.

The lunch rush slowly came down to a trickle as customers filtered out (of their own volition this time) and weren’t immediately replaced with more. One of the guests that left was Jabra, but you were surprised to find more money left next to his empty plate. You had already covered his bill with the money he’d given you previously, like he’d suggested.

Your fingers ghosted over the berry, then quickly slipped it into your pocket. Maybe it was an apology for his behavior? Unlikely, but not impossible.

Maybe things are going to get better for you now? You had a rough start, but it’ll be smooth sailing with Jabra having called it quits. Everything is going to be fine, great even! You’re finally going to be able to relax.

Surely that sensation of feeling like you’re always being watched will go away now that you’re no longer paranoid about Jabra.

[wren-dy-flowergarden]

𝒄𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒂 𝒊𝒔 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒂 𝒇𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒚𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒆

*ੈ✩‧˚₊⁀➴For a whole world defined by the idea of fairytales, you did not feel as if you were living one. But Cinderella got her Prince Charming eventually! Maybe you end up with your own fairytale ending once you finish your hellish shift. 

*ੈ✩‧˚₊⁀➴ A/N: Sorry! A repost that only 12 people have saw before (the special ones) and I thought more ppl need to see my boi Floyd. Thank you for filling my insecurity  (ノ*°▽°*).✧.*✦ *.✧  

*ੈ✩‧˚₊⁀➴ Word Count: 4.3k   Floyd x gn!reader

*ੈ✩‧˚₊⁀➴ Tags: friends who want more, long shifts = loss of logic, fluff and deals, a little spicy at the end? hands, Hands, HANDS! 

For a whole world defined by the ideas of fairytales, you did not feel as if you were living in one.

Life has been "hectic" to put it mildly. From being pushed into a carriage (which should be considered kidnapping logic blasted away between gaps in worlds), dealing with egotistical boys that turn into a monster of repressed issues, and on top of all that studying 24/7 to even catch up with the grade level is too much to handle.

Oh, and to keep up with Grim's insatiable appetite, meaning he ordered twenty plates of tuna behind her back at Lounge Monstro leading to said terror to complain that his "poor paws" can't soak or they become little wet stubs. Not only that the animal language test was coming up and you really needed all the help you could get. Therefore, you took up some extra shifts that were available at the Lounge.

The only shift being dishwater duty.

Plummeting her hands with washed-up food and soapy water felt disgusting.

It felt like a pre-prince charming Cinderella fairytale.

Scratch that, you felt like a poorer pre-prince charming Cinderella. At least Cinderella got a fire to sleep next to (though Grim acted as a nice heater if he didn't twist and turn so much at night.)

Dousing wrinkled fingers, with clean water from the spout you gave an audible groan as the busser just pushed at least twenty more dirty dishes to her. He gave a small sorry before dashing off again.

You eyed the mess of gravy, picked clean bones, and a mountain of stacked soda glasses about to tip over. A job is a job but this is ridiculous.

Starting with the plates first you grumbled, "Stupid Azul being cheap-" scrubbing harder against a stain, "scheduling only one dishwasher today." All of a sudden, oxygen left your lungs as something heavy collided into you.

"Koebi-chan! You're here today~" Floyd grinned as he put most of his weight onto your body.

Being "hugged" by Floyd felt more like being "mauled" by a bear. A strange, friendly, sharp tooth instead of nails type of bear but mauled either way.

"You're heavy", you grumble hunching over, chest almost touching the tip of the basin, "get off me!"

You are not supposed to poke the bear but in this case Floyd really didn't mind, "Hehe~. Koebi-chan is super fun when they’re red!"

Like his twin would say, 'There is no stopping Floyd from getting what he wants without measurable danger.'. The danger might be your neck being squeezed or maybe losing a finger to pointy teeth but really what could be worse than your kidnapping from another world situation? Not much.

Yuu steadies her hands against the sink as eyes glaring at yellow, “At least help me with dishes. With you, on cooking duty instead of Jade there are at least triple the number of pans."

He leans back relieving some of the weight as he explains with clear disinterest, "Ehhhh, but I just got off!"

He snakes one arm around your waist pulling tight as you let out a squeak, his lips getting closer before he breathes out.

"Let's just stay here~" You feel his lips close to your ear, “Forever~”

You flayed, pruned hands covering your ears as a crimson red ran up your cheeks as you broke out of Floyd's grip gaping at him.

"You- You!"

Floyd breaks out into his signature grin, mirth dancing in his eyes, "Hehe. Koebi-chan gives the best reactions ever!

You glared back before turning to at least an hour’s worth of dishes that need to be done before Azul sent you home tonight. Then it was the homework and also finding the time to make a quick dinner, and ugh- "Just help me out would you? My feet are already hurting from tonight's dinner rush."

"Nahhh." Floyd says stretching his arms above his head a few pops and a shrug later he crosses his arms with the smirk of someone who would get at least 8 hours of sleep tonight, "Azul said I'm done tonight."

Well duh, you heard all the wrong orders going out. Azul probably wanted to preserve if/any profits were made tonight.

"Besides! Washing dishes are supeeeer boring." he tilts his head to the side frowning, "Not really into that."

You sighs and tries to outweigh the odds in her head:

Option one: Floyd will go bother some other poor soul after a few moments of silence.

Or

Option two: If he did try to clean the dishes Yuu is almost 99.9999% sure that the show-off would try to recreate his basketball moves using plates as the ball which would eventually break and YOU would have to clean up.

Or get your pay docked . . .

Option one it is.

"Fine Floyd. I'll see you tomorrow then."

A slow blink before the six-foot man unrolled his arms, confusion in his voice, "Huh?"

You focused on scrubbing at a black stain on one of the pots, it's a 50/50 if it looks clean or not, "I said 'fine'. I will see you tomorrow." You would not turn back around. You are focused. Focused on these hellish stains.

So focused, you did not even notice Floyd stomp off.

���





An hour and a half later, wrinkled chicken skin and tender feet that hurt to walk on you were finally given the ok to head home.

It was worth it though, you gasped when Azul gave a copy of his notes. Diagrams, arrows, and color-coded entries determine which grammar was being used. If Azul wasn't such a devil when it came to business he might have been an angel.

Stuffing the notes into her book bag, she winced glancing at her feet and feeling her skin rubbed raw.

Note to self: wear better socks.

Shuffling slowly to the entrance two figures shadowed the bar, Jade polishing a glass and Floyd's with his head down on the counter.

Jade gave a perfected smile, "Ah Prefect, thank you for working so hard today," his eyes glanced down to his brother sulking on the counter, "Floyd told me you were very focused today."

A whine came from Floyd, like his puppy (do merpeople have puppies?) just got kicked. Yuu shuffled around to a bar stool leaning against it, "Well I was trying to get home before ten, but it seems like that wasn't the case tonight."

Floyd kicked his feet against the bar counter another whine leaving him.

Jade blinked, expression turning inquisitive to a not-very well-hidden smirk, "Pardon my manners, but Prefect you seem rather stressed. Isn't that right Floyd?"

Floyd let out a sound that Yuu could not tell if it was an agreement or not, but Jade knew as he placed a perfectly polished flute on the counter.

He smiles, and it sends a small shiver down your spine, "It seems you're unsteady on your feet Prefect, your shoes giving you difficulty?"

He tilts his head to his twin, grin not leaving his face, "It may come as a surprise, but Floyd may be able to help your situation."

Floyd stops kicking the bar and you are trying to make heads or tails of Jade's words. It was late. You were tired. You wanted to go home to whatever rickshaw/graveyard dorm you called a home when other dorms had where place in literally different geo spheres.  

You shake your head, "No thanks, I rather deal with my bloody toes another day."

It was as if Jade expected that answer because he just nods, in full understanding, and Jade never fully understood unless it was for his gain you've learned, "It's unfortunate, but I believe this be for better than for not. Remember our favor?"

And no, you don't remember, because there could be a billion favors you owe Jade- from him giving tips to you to keep up with rush hour or simply holding the door open for you- because every act of kindness from him is a disguise for his amusement.

You stare at Floyd, who was oddly quiet at this moment, and you want to collapse but it was better not to ask about favors in front of them both.

They tend to get a little jealous and the rest of your day is gone trying to make one of the two contents until they forget. That person usually being Floyd, because Jade rarely forgets.

You groan, placing a hand on your head to stop your incoming headache.

Fine. What's the worst that can happen?

You probably couldn't imagine what the "worst" was through the pounding in your head as Floyd jumps up, joy evident on his face as he pulls you with him with Jade waving goodbye.

The "worst" was actually being carried chest to chest spinning around in circles through Octavinelle's public lounge which thank god there were nobody in sight, or should you say blurred with the way Floyd keeps twisting you around and around like a whirlpool.

You complain once about Floyd's freakishly long legs walking too fast and this is what you get.

The only way to balance yourself was ducking into his neck shutting your eyes waiting for the experience to be better. You dig in close and Floyd in response is to squeezes you closer.

…It’s not that uncomfortable.

"We're here!" Floyd shouts and you immediately put a hand over his mouth, you don't want to wake anyone else up to this embarrassing scene, for your own sake.

Floyd lowers you to the floor where you gently let go of his neck, your distress evident enough on your face because Floyd is grinning like a kid who just made bank at the candy store.

The door opens one side to messy clothes littered over every droppable surface there is sheets twisted to one corner of the bed, and papers scattered across his desk. In all honesty, it would not be that bad if not for the fact the other side looked like those real state showrooms. Nothing was out of place, no crease on the bedding, and everything was ironed and hanging on a clothing rack not very far from an organized desk. Must be Jade’s side.

Floyd pushes you a bit and you stumble toward his side of the room.

"Hey! I can still walk you know." Dodging some thrown clothes was more difficult as Floyd closes the door.

"Ehhh, but you were just staring Koebi-chan." He gets closer knocking you onto the edge of his bed. Huh. Your heart feels like it's running at a thousand miles per hour as Floyd puts two hands on your shoulders pressing you into the bed so that your sitting, "Relax, relax~ we're just getting started!"

Wha- What does he mean by that!?

His fingers glide gently down your arms, and it feels like fire touching ice for the first time. A strong goosebump sensation travels down leaving just a strange warm feeling filling up your body. It's weird and you don't know how to handle this as he keeps trails down to your hands before gripping them.

You never noticed how much he engulfed you as he gave you a tight squeeze, before lowering onto his knees. He would be between your legs if you weren't squeezing your thighs as hard as possible together. Knocking on your kneecap like a door he gives childish smile, "Move your legs Koebi-chan~" It was to- to much for your poor little heart.

You call out, well it comes out more as a half shriek half whimper as you push at Floyd who was slowly pushing one of your legs aside, "Hey- that! That's too much!"

Floyd blinks, "Too much?" He leans downward, chin onto the edge of your thigh and frowns similar to how you imagine a dog being yelled at. You do everything in your power to stop your voice from shaking, but this was the furthest you have ever gone in your life, and you haven't even kissed!

You mind was quickly turning into a vortex sucking in every single scenario locked in the back of your head and just when you feel the tip of your ears about to burn off a whine interrupts you.

"But Koebi-chan, I just need my tools."

Forget the ears, your whole head was exploding off your shoulders, "T-to-tools!?"

Another nod, "Yup," a pop of the 'p', "ya know to fix your shoes." And your face must be ridiculous because Floyd gives such an uncontrollable laugh his head tilting back before wiping a stray tear from his eye. He grips your ankle loosening the collar between shoe and skin. You let out a small wince as the shoe peels apart from bloody skin, him delicately wriggling out the rest of the shoe off.

He flips the crew shoe upside down, "You see. Koebi-chan’s foot is getting all mashed up like shark food. See, see?" You kind of notice, only the tip of the show is scrubbed off along with a large part of the heel.

Floyd flips the shoe again as he shows you the inside, the heel is worn down to the sole and there is wet blood on the side as he clicks his tounge, "Koebi-chan~ You should've given Azul the right size, now you're payin' for it!" And you would if you could, but only men's sizes are available and that kind of screwed you over a bit for your small feet.

"So- so the tools you were talking about..."

He slides his arms underneath the bed pulling out a worn wooden box. A grin blossoms to life as he unclasps the top of the box revealing what you could only assume to be a cobbler set. Unlike everything else in his room, the tools are polished to a worn type of satisfaction- like an artisan who created each imperfection to conceive perfection.

It wasn't what you were thinking of at all.

It. Wasn't. That. At. All.

Floyd’s smile widens as he sees your puffed-up cheeks, meanwhile scrunching into yourself to hopefully create a black hole to swallow yourself in rather than face embarrassment of misreading the conversation.

"Woah- this is a new phase for Koebi-chan!"

"Just! Just fix my shoes Floyd!"







You look at the clock located on Jade's side of perfection. It read 11:43, and you were surprised that Jade hasn't come back yet, well scratch that, he is dedicated to his craft. You flip over on the bed as Floyd is still extending the collar of your crew shoes. It's a different look you don't see often. Mostly Floyd will be hopping around from area to area with either a smile or frown on his face, but now he just stared in concentration using his tools to create.

You never have seen him like this, and that bothered you- just a bit. You were so used to his voice filling every space of the conversation that all you needed to worry about were your next words. Now all you had were you, him, and your thoughts.

You hate to say this, but maybe it was because you were bored?

A small cough leaks through your mouth, just enough to garner attention and it doesn't even distract him. You frown and just when you are about to turn around to stare at the clock Floyd giggles, "Koebi-chan looks like they're drying up on hot sand."

Rolling your eyes you respond, "Well I am just laying here." Floyd must be amused because you can hear him hum a little tune under his breath as he grabs a canister from the box and a small brush.

"Hey, Floyd."

"Hmmmm~ Whatcha want?"

You think of the best way to ask these questions, but you assume the simpler the better.

"Why do you know how to fix shoes?"

"Hmmmmmm dunno."

"You don't know?" You take another glance at how meticulously he handles every instrument like he carved each one from hand for its own individual purpose. You decide to rephrase, "Is it another hobby?"

Brushing another coat of the mixture onto the tip he cracks his neck turning his lamp to the side, "When I was little, Jade and I sometimes see land-dwellers on land twirling and dancing around.” He tips his brush back into the mixture, “We don’t need feet because it’s not needed ya know. Yet you guys decorate your feet in so many styles its super interesting you know. Just cause we have fins doesn’t mean we paint them weird colors. Suuuper funny you know.”

He clicked his feet together and it was just then you noticed the difference of the style of Floyd's shoes compared to your own brown ones. They were in pristine condition, as the white cut the heel and toe into two parts separating them from matte to a glossier finish with no marks on them. It was much different than the beaten-up ones he currently had between his fingertips.

You never really looked down when talking to Floyd because he was so much taller.  You guess you never did notice how pristine his shoes were compared to how frumpy he wore his uniform.

"Heh, seeing how land-dwellers had so many styles for their feet is so funny." He looks at your feet, already bandaged up with some disinfectant, "It's like you have to wear 'em. You landies are so delicate that you need shoes to protect your feet! That's sooooo different~"

You're starting to understand, "And that just makes us all the more interesting huh?"

He grins in a way you can see a sharp tooth poking out on top, "But your wayyyy more interesting than the others Koebi-chan~ .”

Your cheeks start to warm up, but you don’t fall for the bait, “Oh really?”

"M'mhm almost done~"

You roll to a cooler side of the bed, "And I was just getting comfy here." It really was miles above your own cardboard spring bed, you were sinking into this bed than just laying on a rock with some sheets thrown ontop.

Floyd swivels around on his chair and just wheezes as he looks at your form, "HA- Koebi-chan looks like a starfish now!" And you can’t disagree this is one of the comfiest beds you have been on yet it was all disturbed with Floyd gripping your ankles pulling you slowly to the edge of the bed.

“Wake uppp, you have to try em on now.” He whines as you groggle. Sitting on the edge of the bed again, you have purer thoughts this time as Floyd gets down own knee. He folds up your pant leg a couple rolls to expose your ankles better.

Satisfied, he cautiously takes one of the shoes and opens the collar gently guiding your toes in making sure not to catch any of the band aids on the side. You look down at him and again he is so focused, it’s so unlike him yet it doesn’t look that unfamiliar.

Catching the heel in place you are in awe. Instead of the front frow of your toes being squished there was now enough room to wiggle, and your heel wasn’t digging into the back of the shoe anymore. Not only that a new coat of paint was layered of scratches and on the rim of the sole you could see accents of white and grey cutting the style of the shoe leaving it with a trendy type of look.

You twist your foot back and forward looking at his craftsmanship. It’s amazing its spare detail that makes you feel like it’s yours. Something made for you. You and nobody else.

It almost felt like you were Cinderella fitting on the glass shoe.

“Soooo?” He whispers breaking you out of your thoughts, “Perfect fit?” He knows it because he is wearing a grin that reads as ‘say it! say how much you like it!’.

You roll your eyes, “Perfect fit Floyd.” He’s still looking at you with those puppy dog eyes. It’s a little outside your comfort zone but you raise a hand to his scalp and rub in circles, “I really like them.”

They really were perfect. So perfect a concern crosses your mind, “How much does it cost?”

Lazy eyes blink as you stop massaging his head, “Hmmmm?” He thinks for a moment, “Well I’m feelin’ pretty nice today Koebi-chan~” And automatically your brain thinks ‘free?’ but of course this is the dorm of deals akin to mercy so Floyd continues, “How about a kiss?”

…

A kiss…?

Your thought you were in the safe but your brain short circuits all the way to outer space and back, “A- A kiss!? What are you talking about Floyd. That’s- What!”

He pouts, “Well cause after you land-dwellers finish the last song usually you guys kiss right?” He sighs sitting on the floor crossing his legs, “Ya know I dance all the time, but I’ve never kissed anyone after.”

There are so many things wrong with that logic, but your short, circuited mind isn’t making sense, so you say something just as dumb back.

“We aren’t dancing Floyd.”

He looks at you in a way that makes you look like the dense one, “Duh Koebi-chan, that’s why this is the price!” He points to his cheek, “Right here! That’s where I want the kiss!”

Being flabbergasted is an understatement to how you feel right now, Floyd just keeps looking at you expectantly from the floor as he keeps tapping his cheek. It’s just a kiss on the cheek you say to yourself, what’s the worse that can happen? You’ve kissed your mom on the cheek this is fine!

“…fine.” Floyd lights up like its Christmas and you must wonder in the back of your mind if this is really just some elaborate scheme you are playing into. He is not getting up and you are embarrassed beyond the universe as you slide off the bed onto the floor, “Tilt- tilt your cheek to the side.”

He does so without hesitation, you can still see half the smile he is wearing on his face as you put an arm out to steady you as you lean closer and closer- oh please god don’t let my heart kill me- and right when your close enough to close your eyes and quickly press your lips against cool skin you hear a chuckle.

“Eh Koebi-chan face is really cute right now.” And suddenly you feel your chin being jerked as your lips contact something so much softer than what you remember as a child. It’s a little cool and somewhat chapped as you press into him and then he moves! You won’t open your eyes because if you do it feels like the butterflies beating in your chest will explode out of you. Floyd moves his hand to stable you as he rubs the other hand behind the back of your neck relaxing you into him as he moves against you in a way that it takes all your concentration to move with him.

A breath and you are gasping for air like a person held underneath water for far too long. Red face forehead to forehead to cool eyes and Floyd slowly licks his lips and looks at you in a way a hunter has just captured its prey. Devious eyes you think before he leans in again and you follow suit because there was something so addicting with the way Floyd pulls your lower lips with his fang and the way he rubs your arm back and forward as if wanting more of you and the only way you can answer is by gripping him tighter between your fingers.

You break apart and you lean against his chest this time catching your breath as he holds you, if you listened to his heart beat it was almost as fast as yours. You gulp air still passing through your lungs, “Was- Was that enough?” It was hard to hear his response through the blood passing through your ears, but Floyd just laughs as you feel his chest move with every breath, he hold your cheek as he tilts your head up craning it towards his dual-colored eyes.

He has a pretty, pink blush on him as well covering his nose all the way to his cheek bones, you can see the fang that tugs your lips barely peeking out of his smile.

“Hmmmm~ Maybe just one more.” And you close your eyes just one more time.





───────────✧.*✦ *.✧.*✦ *.✧.*✦ ───────────────

(Around 11:25pm at Lounge Monstro)

Azul is not having a good day. Not at all. Wasted food and damages, he needed to pay for restoring table 28, 32 and 18 after Floyd for some reason stormed out the kitchen and creating destruction everywhere he went. Azul groans as he flips through number filled papers with red lines and circles.

He thought that he had properly prepared to mitigate these damages when he gave Floyd an early night off but seeing his previous number quadrupled put him into a sour mood.

Reading the clock 11:28, he locks his office ready to get at least four hours of sleep because he still needed to write that business proposal for the headmaster-

“…Jade you’re still here?” He asks taking a step over what seems to be a sleeping bag and a couple books hovering near a campsite lamp, “We talked about this. No “practice” camping in the lounge” Azul warns as he finds Jade near a booth flipping through a book all about mushroom delights.

Jade just looks, with polite smile all he says is, “You can settle all qualms with Ramshackle’s prefect.” As he flips the next page.

Azul groans, Ramshackle’s prefect, another word for headache. Always putting their nose where it’s not supposed to be, but how would that be affecting Jade? Jade being a consistent vice warden understood Azul’s clear confusion and clarifies, “Floyd is with them in the dorm.”

oh….OH

Azul waved his thoughts away, there was no need to deal with this at this very moment instead he hands over the papers in his hand, “Help me with these accounts and you can stay in my room tonight.”

“Oh, how gracious of you.”

“Be quiet. Floyd is working double after tonight.”

[arinewarrick]

Marcille Donato QuickSketch🪄🧝🏻‍♀️

Guys I have a shift in two hours lol

Busser by day artist by night I guess 🥲🫠 But for now I have to keep practicing

Marcille portrait sketch in my art style for today because I wanted to try and figure out my rendering style a bit more today; Style is inspired by my favorite artists of course!!

[thegodmother007]

My New Neighbor - Chapter 8: What the Fuck Just Happened?

My New Neighbor Chapter 8: What the Fuck Just Happened?

TRIGGER WARNING: This story will eventually contain violence, angst, threat of death, swearing, dark humor, adult themes like sex & drugs, racism, classism, sexism etc. Do not say you have not been warned

Chapter 8:

My shift at Dave & Crusters had been going smoothly tonight so far, one of the tamer nights I have had this week. I look up at the clock to see it’s 45-minutes away from closing, better get to the closing duties so I am out of here by 10:00pm. I grab a cloth from the bleach bucket & start wiping down the counters. As I mindlessly perform the routine of tasks I have done 100x’s before, I hear my phone ping in my pocket. Was not often I got notifications this late at night. I look around to see if my manager is nearby before pulling my phone from my pocket & giving it  a glance. ‘Your Order has been received & processed by GamingRUs. Shipping details to follow’ it read. I felt a pang of guilt in my chest as I was reminded of the conversation Vi & I had earlier today. 

Without warning, I am bumped into by the other bartender who was carrying a tray full of glasses. Thankfully, none were dropped. “Whoa, sorry Cain, I was looking at the glasses when I should have been watching where I was going!” Brittany says as she passes me by & towards the kitchen area, but not before noticing the look on my face. She stops “You alright?” she asked & I shrug, “It’s complicated.” I say trying to keep it short. But Brittany was the type to really get involved & shove her nose in where it isn’t wanted. “Oooo girl trouble?” She was not too far off with that guess. “Something like that…” I answer before trying to turn away. Quicker than she looks, Brittany rushes to block my path “Maybe I can help! I am really good at giving advice.” She offers & I just stare at her, contemplating my next move. What did I have to lose by at least getting her opinion on it? “Alright” I say, relenting. 

I tell Brittany everything, I even hand her my phone to look at the texts that went between Vi & I. “So? What do you think? Do you think I crossed a line or do you think she’s overreacting?” At this point, a busser named Huan had joined the conversation & had been listening intently to my story along with Brittany. Huan and Brittany look at each other after having passed the phone back & forth. “You’re definitely the asshole here, Cain.” Birttany says, handing my phone back to me. 

“Really? I thought I was giving her a compliment, you know? She surprised me with how smart she was during Trivia Night. So, I called her smart. How is that bad?” I was dumbfounded over Brittany’s answer. I looked to Huan for his opinion and he nods, “Let me take this one Brit.” Huan says with a hand on her shoulder, leaning in towards me “Look Cain, you had good intentions, that’s obvious because this is bothering you. What you need to understand though, is that your assumption of Vi’s intelligence comes from a place of outdated, racist beliefs.” I felt the piercing of that word shoot through my chest “Racist?” I asked “I don’t hate Vi because she is a giant or anything, I don’t hate Vi at all!” Huan shakes his head “Racism is not just hatred, it can manifest in different ways. This time, you assumed that because she was giant, that she would be dumb or less intelligent. So the surprise was because she didn’t fit the stereotype you categorize her into, not because she was smart & won you guys the game.” I sat, trying to understand exactly what he was saying. “But I would have been surprised over anyone being able to answer the questions that she did, not just her.” Huan crosses his arms “You said it yourself that you didn’t know there were giants who liked school, right? Whether you’re ready to admit it or not Cain, that was a racist remark. Being a giant doesn’t mean you dislike school or any type of education. Giants are not inherently dumb, just how Asian people are not inherently good at math or devoted to their academics. Personally, I prefer reading & I love watching documentaries about obscure topics that are unrelated to direct academics. I didn’t pop out of the womb with a fucking calculator.” 

Brittany snickers at Huan’s joke and looks to me. “He’s right Cain. I know you didn’t mean to, but you messed up here.” I sigh and rub my temples, finally realizing why what I said was so wrong & why it got such a reaction out of Vi. “I wasn’t raised around giants…” I admit & Huan scoffs “No shit.” he says rolling his eyes with a smirk. “So how do I make it up to her? I need her on my team next time Don hosts Trivia Night. There was no way I would have ever gotten the question ‘wHaT dOEs DNA sTaND fOr? Without Vi’s help.” Brittany places her hand on Huan’s shoulder “I got this one. My boyfriend has pissed me off & made up for it more times than I can count.” Cain felt a redness creeping up across his cheeks at the mention of boyfriend/girlfriend relationships. “We’re not an item, Brit, we’re just Unit Partners…” I try correcting her and she waves me off. “A woman scorned in any language, any race or relationship is all going to look the same, regardless of the situation. What you need to do is make it up to her. Buy her dinner, bring her flowers, sing her a song.” Brittany suggests but I couldn’t help but feel put off by all those suggestions “Those all seem really…intimate..” I look at Huan who snorts with a laugh at Brittany’s suggestions. “Have you tried apologizing?” He asks with a ‘isn’t-it-obvious’ tone of voice & a raised eyebrow. “Yes, of course I have!” I respond defensively, getting frustrated as no one’s suggestions are helping. “When?” Brittany asks. “You read the texts, I said it there.” I hand her my phone back, which still has our conversation pulled up. Brittany looks over it again with Huan sharing the screen too. “No, you didn’t” Brittany says handing me my phone a second time. “I told her that I didn’t mean to underestimate her, I told her it wouldn’t happen again.” I confirm but Huan pipes up “That is not an apology my dude. That is acknowledging you messed up, but you didn’t atone for it.” Brittany nods, pointing to Huan “He’s right, that’s not an apology.” I re-read my texts to Vi and I can see what they’re saying. “So I’ll text her that I am sorry, then.” I say positioning my phone in my hand to start typing. Brittany puts her perfectly manicured hand over my screen “You need to do this in person for it to mean something. You insulted her in person, you need to apologize in person.” That was the last thing I wanted to hear.

*************************************************************************************************************

I heard the obnoxious buzzing of Cain’s apartment door, requesting entry into my apartment when I was stepping out of the shower. I checked my phone quickly, to see if he texted me before he was at my door, hoping to get an idea of why he was here. No messages were on my phone, raising the question of what Cain wanted. With as much politeness as I could muster in that poorly timed moment, I yelled out of my bathroom door “GIVE ME A MINUTE!” As I rush to wrap my wet hair in a towel and tighten the fresh towel around my body. I walk down my hallway towards my living room, leaving behind little puddles of water, where I push the buzzer to let him in. 

I stand across the living room, watching the little door open, with Cain using his back to push his way through, carrying something in his hands. For the first couple of steps in, Cain’s back is to me as he starts shouting “Vi! I realize I messed up!” Not noticing that I am right behind him only a few steps away. Cain turns around, eyes looking at the flat square cardboard that seemed to resemble a pizza box, before meeting my gaze “I came to apolog-...” His sentence halts the moment he lays eyes on me standing on the other side of the living room. I watched his face & eyes open wide with surprise as he saw me standing there. After doing a quick up & down, his face grows noticeably red & he covers his eyes while turning away, struggling to hold the pizza box with one hand “Vi, I didn’t know this was a bad time, sh-sh-should I come back later?” He asks, embarrassed. “I’m in a towel, Cain.” I point out, not entirely sure what his deal was. The towel was not overly small, it covered me like a dress would, so it’s not like he could see anything. “Yea, you’re in a towel! Should I give you time to change o-or something?” I could tell he was not comfortable. “Would you like for me to change?” I asked him, wondering how the hell he handles seeing people at a public pool or beach showing so much skin if me being in a towel made him this uncomfortable. “It’s your apartment, you can do whatever you want!” He says nervously. “Alright. So what do you want?” I asked, realizing how cold that may have come out a bit too late. Cain’s eyes slowly peeked from behind his hand, as he lowered it to the pizza box once again and erected his posture. Clearing his throat & choking on it a little he tries to regain his momentum from earlier. 

“It’s been brought to my attention that I may have been insensitive to you & my comment about giants’ intelligence levels crossed a line.” I folded my arms “Mm hmm. And?” I asked, feeling the chill of the air conditioning crawling up my wet skin. Cain, distracted by whatever he was thinking to say next, finally said “So I wanted to apologize!” Holding up the pizza box to be above his head, showing me proudly what he’s brought, much like a cat would bring a mouse to its owner. “Vi, I did not grow up around giants. I don’t know what isn’t okay to say, how to act or what customs to follow. I am going to mess up a lot, but I don’t want to mess up so badly that I ruin the chance to have a friendly Unit Partner.” My heart softened as his plea, struck by the honesty he was showing me. I offer a smile “Well, it’s not the worst thing I have had a human say to me. So I think it’s a forgivable sin.” I say giving him the closure he came for. I start eyeing the tiny box with curiosity “..You brought a pizza?” The pizza itself was no larger than your average cracker to me. Cain smiled back at me “Yes! But…I see that maybe it was not as grand of a gesture as I had hoped it would be…” He says holding it up for me to take. “Might be a bit small…not really filling for you…but they wouldn’t let me buy a giant pizza. So I had hoped this would be enough…” I walked up to him, watching his eyes follow where my footsteps were landing & his face grew from pale, to pink to full blown tomato red again. I crouch down, keeping my legs together, to avoid flashing Cain. His eyes steered away from my toweled body as he held out the pizza. I gingerly took it from him, using my nail to open the box to see a pepperoni pizza with 2 slices missing. “You ate some of it?” I asked as Cain laughed nervously, “Yea well I figured we would be able to share a giant pizza, but when I was denied that option, I did the next best thing & figured we would share a regular sized pizza, like normal roommates do. I also did not have any other plans for lunch…and I was hungry” I rolled my eyes with a smile “The peace offering is appreciated, thank you.” Cain looks up to me, happy his apology was accepted. He watched as I slid the whole pizza from the box, into my mouth in a single bite, which was about all the pizza was. But for what it was worth, the pie was deliciously cheesy & saucy. I barely had to chew it before swallowing, crumpling the cardboard box in my hand to toss away later. 

Cain watched my fist close on the flimsy cardboard box with a crooked smile. “I appreciate you stopping by & apologizing.” I say, watching Cain rub his neck & return his eyes to mine. “Thank you for at least hearing me out & not hating me over this. I’ll uh- get out of your hair..” He says making his exit as politely as I am sure he could manage at the time. As he exited his door, I call to him “Cain!” He flinches, then freezes, turning around wondering what it was I wanted “Next time, I will have you for lunch. We’ll figure out a place that caters to Giants and Humans, okay? My treat.” As if he was holding his last breath, he exhales dramatically while wiping his forehead of whatever sweat had built up on it. “Yes, That should be just fine! Ha, thanks!” He says, slipping into his door & out of sight. 

*************************************************************************************************************

As I closed the door behind me, my body lost all strength it had and I collapsed against the door, my heart racing like I just finished running a marathon. “What the fuck just happened?” Cain thought loudly, running fingers through his hair. He reassured himself that Vi’s comment of “Having him for lunch” was not a promise that Vi was going to eat him, rather she invited him to have lunch with her next time. The miniature heart attack brought on by her words began to subside as Cain recalls seeing Vi, all 85ft of her, damn near soaking wet in a thin towel, leaving very little to the imagination. He recalls his feeling of shock as his eyes trailed up, up, up her long legs to her face. Cain feels a warm feeling in his cheeks that slowly crept to his pants as he felt them tighten slightly. Those legs…strong, sensual and soft looking. He wondered to himself if her skin was as soft to the touch as it looked from his perspective. Nothing could have prepared him for the curvature of her body, though. Her hips were wide & the curves of her waist came in an almost perfect hourglass shape. Her arms & shoulders clearly reflected how she worked out & lifted weights, but her body kept the soft edges & supple shape he admired in other women. Her wet hair spilled out from the towel she had holding it up, still dripping. Cain recalls following the drips as they landed on her shoulder and gravity pulled them between her…”-STOP!” Cain yelled at himself, covering his mouth, fearing he was too loud just now. 

This was wrong, Cain can’t think about Vi this way. She was his Unit Partner, nothing else. Were they even friends? Cain didn’t think so. He reminded himself that he was literally just apologizing for being racist towards her, so there is a lot that needs to happen for them to even call each other friends. Cain needed to keep in mind that getting too close to giants was still dangerous, even ones as..nice..as Vi. The image of Vi slipping the entire XL pizza into her mouth, hardly chewing before swallowing, followed by minimal effort to crush the pizza box, gave a chill up Cain’s spine he was not sure he liked. A stark reminder of just how different they were. Cain slapped his own face, lecturing to himself “Pull yourself together man, this is not happening! She is a giant, you’re just…” Cain pauses and notices his reflection, crumpled on the floor, in the full body mirror he keeps by the front door, staring back at him. He noted how pathetic & sorry looking he was in that moment. 

“...just Human..” Cain says with a defeated sigh.  Pushing himself off of the floor & walking to his gaming area, he makes an effort to push the image of Vi’s nearly naked body out of his mind as he picks up his controller to play some Halo. Taking a deep breath and thinking about his grandma and spiders to kill all warmth he was feeling in that moment as he logs into his gaming account.

Previous ||| Next

[whiskey-tango-matcha]

Who Cares for You (m)

Guess who’s back with YET ANOTHER fic lmao. This is based on 2 prompts, one from @waterfallofspace and one from an anon, the prompts are kinda long to put here but essentially the idea was that Elijah comes to work sick and refuses to go home, so Greyson has to figure out a way to get him home and take care of him. THANK YOU FOR THE PROMPTS!! <3 This one was a little out of my comfort zone, and I LOVED writing it so I hope you guys like it :) A little over 3k words because I just cannot be concise, it isn’t in my nature lol. 

OH and if you’re the anon who sent the Greyson-centric prompt, I’ll be filling that one later this week >:)

cw: male, cold, coughing, light mess. 

Who Cares for You

In the five years Greyson had been the executive chef at Elliot’s, many thing had changed; he’d become a partner; they’d expanded into the storefront next to the original, tiny space; and they’d seen about a dozen cooks, servers, bussers, and dishwashers come and go. One thing always stayed the same, though: August was always, without fail, maddeningly slow.

Greyson was sitting in the office, throwing a ball against the wall while attempting to come up with the fall menu they were supposed to be rolling out in the next few weeks. Was it an urgent task? Definitely not. But, his cooks were on prep projects, his sous chef was sorting through the walk-in, and truly, he had nothing better to do.

Unfortunately, his creativity was about as lukewarm as the office today.

Just when he was about to say fuck it and click out of the near-empty word document he had open, Greyson heard his boss swing open the back doors of the kitchen and stomp inside.

“Christ, it’s hot,” Elijah said, pushing past the chef and into his seat in their shared office. “Is August always this hot?”

“I mean, I’m sure climate change doesn’t help,” Greyson said, cracking his neck and turning toward Elijah. He raised both eyebrows when the two of them locked eyes. “Uh-oh.”

“Uh-oh, what?” Elijah asked, sitting down and turning on his computer. Greyson motioned to his own face, then at Elijah’s. “What?” Elijah asked again.

“You’re wearing glasses,” Greyson pointed out. “You’re not feeling well?”

“Oh. Yeah, I have a headache, didn’t want to put in contacts,” Elijah explained, pawing his nose with the back of his hand absentmindedly. He glanced again at the Chef, who had a cheeky half-smile on his face. “What?”

“Who the fuck gets a cold in the middle of August?” Greyson asked, laughing. Elijah rolled his eyes, then grimaced.

“Fuck off, Grey, I do not have a cold. It’s a headache. Not everything is a -,” Elijah cut himself off when his breath hitched, seemingly out of nowhere. “Huh! HUTSCHH-oo! Snf.” Elijah cleared his throat, and turned back to the Chef, high spots of embarrassment blooming on his cheeks. “A thing,” he finished, lamely.

Greyson snorted out a laugh. “Yeah, not everything is ‘a thing’, but this,” he gestured at Elijah’s entire presence, “is most certainly a thing. I’ve known you five years, Lij, you think I can’t tell when you’re sick?”

“What is this? What is happening?” Elijah turned his chair to fully face Greyson and gave him a look of disbelief. “Are we an old married couple now? You gonna start organizing my pills in little containers and making sure I take them with oatmeal every morning? Putting my coffee on the night before my early-morning shift down at the mines?” Greyson sat back, arms behind his head, and shrugged, clearly amused. “Do people still do the coffee thing? I thought that was eradicated by Big Keurig.” Elijah couldn’t help but bark out a laugh at that. “For real though, boss,” Greyson continued, “It’s gonna be slow as hell tonight. If you’re sick, just go home; Mark can handle the front. Hell, Matt could handle the back, to be frank.” Greyson sat back up and clapped a hand on his boss’s shoulder. “No need for you to martyr yourself. For once.” An insult, but said without malice.

Elijah wasn’t having it. “I’m here. I’m not sick, I’ll take an ibuprofen. I don’t need you to mother me, Greyson, though God knows you love to do it.” He stood up then, clearly looking to finish his tirade strong, but instead crumpled to the side to muffle a volley of sneezes into his sleeve. “Huhh! HuhNGSTSHH-ue! HhDTSHHH-uhh! Hhh...HNSTCHHOO!” Elijah sniffled and looked up from his sleeve at Greyson, who was clearly basking in the thought of being correct. “Fuck off,” Elijah said again.

“I didn’t say a word,” Greyson said, holding up his hands to proclaim his innocence. “But I feel like you might want to bring these,” he handed his boss the box of tissues from behind his computer, “with you.”

Elijah looked, seemingly longingly, at the tissues before pushing past the chef once again. “Not necessary,” he said, opening the office door. “I have to go get inventory done.”

***

“Chef?”

Greyson snapped his head up at the sound of his sous chef’s voice and gave him a half smile and wave. “What’s up, Matt?”

Matt shrugged, leaning against the door to Greyson’s office. “Just checking on you. Thought maybe you’d fallen into a trance or something,” he said. Greyson laughed and swiveled his chair away from the computer.

“Nah, just trying to get this goddamn menu written, but I have literally not one single idea,” he said, pushing his hair away from his face. Matt raised an eyebrow.

“Why not have Elijah help? Don’t you guys usually bounce ideas off each other?” Matt asked.

Greyson huffed out a laugh and turned back towards the computer. “Elijah is currently ignoring me for calling him out. He has a cold and desperately needs to martyr himself on this, the slowest week of the year.”

Matt snorted. “Sounds like Elijah,” he said, picking at a loose thread on his chef’s coat. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen the guy leave early – well, unless you count leaving to take other people home sick.” The sous chef shrugged and pushing himself back to a standing position as Greyson slowly turned toward him, a look of bemusement on his face. “What?” Matt asked.

“Matt, you absolute genius,” Greyson said, pushing himself to his feet. “You just gave me an incredible idea.”

“About… the menu?” Matt asked, confused. Greyson placed a hand on his sous’ shoulder and shook his head.

“Not about the menu,” Greyson said. “Do you think you can hold it down tonight?”

“Uhh… yeah, Chef. I’ve got it covered. Are you...going home?”

“Not exactly,” Greyson said. With that, he swung open the doors to the dining room, leaving his bewildered sage in the dust.

***

Elijah slammed down his clipboard in frustration for about the tenth time that morning – there was no way in hell this inventory was going to get done today.

It had started fine enough; he’d inventoried the wine and beer relatively quickly, but once he got to the liquor his body apparently had other plans for him.

“HUHGSTCCHH-oo! HUTSCH-oo! Hhh...hnGTSHZUE!” Elijah sneezed into his rolled-up sleeve again and cursed himself for being too proud to take the tissues Greyson had offered with him. He wiped his nose gingerly on his sleeve, sucked in, and sat down on one of the thirty milk crates adorning the liquor room.

Much as he didn’t want to admit it, Elijah felt like garbage. He’d known for days that he was getting sick, and despite all of the preventative measures he always took it had bloomed into a Whole Thing, just like what he’d told Greyson it wasn’t. He would’ve laughed if he was thinking of it in hindsight, but in the moment he just felt miserable and sorry for himself.

Elijah went to stand and try to count the bottles once again, when he heard an unmistakable sound in the stairwell leading to the liquor room.

“Huh...UTSHH-oo!”

Elijah turned to face the closed door. Was that...Greyson?

Without warning, the door flew open, and there stood Greyson. Elijah had seen him only an hour before, but for some reason he looked different than earlier. Upon closer inspection, Elijah realized it was his eyes – they were rimmed red, seemingly out of nowhere.

“Grey? What’re you -”

“HUTSHH-oo!” Greyson turned to sneeze into his elbow. He shook his head as though to clear it and turned to Elijah. “Sorry, ’scuse me. I was just looking for you to help me with the menu – HUSHH-oo!” Another sneeze, and what sounded like a muted sniffle from the crook of his elbow.

Elijah couldn’t help but cringe. Maybe this was why Greyson seemed so adamant for Elijah to admit to being ill earlier; because he was himself. “Bless you,” Elijah said, his voice low and congested.

“Thanks,” Greyson said, wiping his face on his sleeve. “Sorry, not sure where those came from.”

Elijah swallowed hard to clear the cough he knew was forming in his throat. “Are you sick?” he asked, expecting Greyson to deny the claim. Instead, the chef just shrugged.

“Dunno,” he said, rubbing his nose on the back of his hand. “Just started out of nowhere. Anyway,” he said, pushing a hand through his hair and sniffling lightly. “I just came to see if you’d come help me with the menu, but I see you’re...busy. So I’ll leave you to it.”

Greyson turned to leave, prompting Elijah to call after him up the stairs: “If you’re sick, you should go hombe!”

Without turning to say anything, Greyson held up two fingers as an acknowledgment and headed through the door back into the dining room.

***

“HSTHH! USHH!! HTSSSH!!” Greyson barreled back into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes relentlessly.

“The fuck happened to you?” Matt asked, moving towards his chef with concern. Greyson shook his head and turned on the water at the sink.

“I’m playing the long game,” Greyson explained, leaning down to splash water onto his face. “I may have made a slight miscalculation though because holy fuck.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Matt asked, pulling some paper towels out of the dispenser and handing them to his boss. Greyson took them gratefully, and pressed them into his face.

“Well, like you said, Elijah will only leave if he thinks that he needs to take someone home. So. I’m going to be the someone he takes home.” Greyson pulled the paper towels off his face and looked at Matt with bloodshot eyes. “How do I look?”

“Crazed. Like a madman. What did you do? Spray yourself with pepper spray?”

“Ooo, so close. I snorted some white pepper.”

Matt’s eyebrows creased together and his mouth opened in confusion. Whatever question he had next clearly died on his lips at the incredibly odd admission from his boss. “White...pepper.”

“Yeah,” Greyson said, scrubbing at his nose. “I need Elijah to think I have whatever he has. Thus, white pepper.” He smiled at his sous, who was continuing to give him an unbelieving look. “What?”

Matt shook his head. “The two of you were made for each other, I swear to god,” he said, walking back to his station and picking his knife back up. “What are you going to do when he comes back up and you’re miraculously cured?”

Greyson chuckled softly in the back of his throat. “Trust me,” he said. “I’ve got this all under control.”

***

After another twenty minutes of attempting to finish inventory, Elijah gave up and stomped up the stairs. He knew he’d hate himself for it in a few days, but he just couldn’t fathom counting any more bottles with the absolutely insane headache that had bloomed in his temples.

While walking towards the office. Elijah allowed himself to fantasize about his bed. About wrapping himself up in a blanket, watching TV for hours on end, sleeping as long as he wanted. Was it pathetic? Yeah, maybe a little, but he always felt like it helped get through particularly difficult days.

When he stepped into the office, the first thing that struck him was Greyson, slumped over on the chair with his head in his hands. Elijah cleared his throat, and Greyson sat up.

“Shit,” he said, “sorry, boss. Headache.”

Elijah’s head pounded at the mention of a headache. “Do we have any ibupro – hh..hnnNGSTHH-ue!” Elijah wrenched to the side and attempted to stifle the sneeze, making the pain in his head explode.

“Bless,” Greyson said, and pulled out a container of pills. “Always stocked and ready. Want some?”

Without thinking, Elijah held out his hand. “Thandks,” he said, dry-swallowing four pills. Immediately, he cringed at the pain in his throat, to which Greyson gave a small grimace of solidarity.

“I feel you. Sore throat,” Greyson said, touching his own and pouring out some pills. He swallowed his with a sip of something from a paper cup, then dipped into his elbow to sneeze. “HUSSHH-uhh!”

Elijah sat down next to the chef and cleared his throat. “You should go,” he said, gently. “That doesn’t sound good.”

Greyson shrugged at his boss and turned back to his computer. “Nah, I’m alright,” he said. “Besides, I didn’t bring my car today, and I’m having my apartment cleaned. The woman who cleans for me doesn’t get there til noon, and it takes her a few hours to clean it.” Greyson smiled tiredly and said, “Thanks, though.”

Elijah swallowed around the pain in his throat and said, “I cand drive you. You cand stay at mby apartment for a few hours, too, if you wandt. I mbean, it’s like ten mbinutes from yours.”

Greyson raised an eyebrow at his boss. “Really?” he asked. “You’d do that?”

Elijah nodded and sniffled a bit. “’Course, Grey. Hhuh…” Elijah’s breath hitched then, and Greyson pushed the tissue box towards his boss, who took a few in anticipation. “HhhGTSHHH-ue! Huh! HUHESZCHUE!” Elijah sniffled again, his sinuses too blocked to attempt to blow his nose, and threw away the tissues.

“Bless you,” Greyson said again. Elijah just ignored him.

“Grab your backpack. Let’s go before the traffic hits.”

***

This is going to work, Greyson thought as they swerved through the city traffic towards Elijah’s apartment. I can’t believe this is really going to work.

After they’d left the restaurant – with Greyson waving to his staff dramatically and Matt rolling his eyes at the theatrics of this whole charade – Greyson had asked if Elijah could stop at Walgreens.

“Don’t want to use up any of your stuff,” he’d explained, though truly he’d wanted to stop because he knew in his heart of hearts that there was no way Elijah, King of Denial, had any kind of cold supplies at his place. Elijah had nodded silently, and stayed in the car while Greyson hopped out and shopped.

The issue was, he wasn’t exactly sure what kind of illness Elijah was dealing with – no clue if he had an oncoming cough, or a fever, or abject sinus pressure – so he was forced to buy pretty much the entirety of the cold and flu aisle. The cashier raised both eyebrows when he placed the mountain of medicine, tissues, and lozenges on the counter.

“Wow,” she said, “someone must have one hell of a cold.”

Someone sure does, Greyson thought to himself when he threw open the door to the car and saw that Elijah was once again stuck in a pre-sneeze.

“Huhh...hhh. Huh, huhhh…!”

“Uh, boss - ?”

“HhNGSTHHZUE! ITSZCHUE! Huh! Hhuh-GTSSHH-oo!” Elijah doubled over his lap to sneeze, and cringed into his sleeve when he was finished, clearly trying to figure out if wiping his nose on his sleeve was too gross when Greyson was going to be sitting next to him.

Greyson dug into the bag of supplies and pulled out a box of tissues, which he ripped open and handed to Elijah. The GM silently pulled a few from the box and blew his nose towards the driver’s side door before turning back to Greyson.

“Thangks,” he said, his voice low and congested. Greyson winced at the sound of it.

“Do you, uh… do you want me to drive the rest of the way?” Greyson asked, placing the bag in the back seat. Elijah cocked his head, confused.

“Thought you were sigck,” he said, sniffling. Greyson pursed his lips together not to laugh.

“Yeah,” Greyson said, biting his cheek at the complete absurdity of this situation. “Let’s, uh… let’s just get to your place.”

Greyson had white-knuckled most of the remainder of the drive, as Elijah seemed to delve deeper into illness with each passing mile. After one particularly harsh sneeze had almost propelled them into a semi, Greyson had nearly screamed, “Oh, Jesus Christ please don’t kill us!” to which Elijah just rolled his eyes.

Finally, they arrived at Elijah’s building and parked in the garage underground. They rode the elevator silently – with the exception of Elijah’s coughing and sniffling – to the floor of Elijah’s apartment, and continued their silence until they reached his front door.

Elijah opened the door and Greyson marveled, as he always did, at how clean and organized his boss’s apartment was. Even the large window in the sitting room was unsmudged by fingerprints or bird shit. It wasn’t like Greyson’s apartment as a dump, not by any stretch, but it was certainly a bachelor pad; Elijah’s, in stark comparison, was styled—cozy and lived-in, but everything in its place. It was a home.

“You seemb to have mbade a miraculous recovery,” Elijah rasped as placed his keys in the bowl by the door. “You sure you’re ndot just allergic to wooorKSHH-uhh! NGTSZH-ue!”

“Lij,” Greyson said, holding the box of tissues out for his boss once again and placing the drugstore bag on the kitchen table, “I made a miraculous recovery because I’m not sick.”

Elijah turned to the chef and raised an eyebrow from behind a tissue. “But...you said you had a headache. And a sore throat, and you were sndeez – INGSTZUE!”

“Elijah,” Greyson said quietly, stepping towards his boss. “I’m not sick.” He slapped a hand onto Elijah’s forehead and gave him an accusatory smile, eyebrows raised. “You are.”

“I’mb – HNGSTHH-uhh! God-fuckigg-dammit,” Elijah cursed, pulling away from his friend to sneeze, once again, into his sleeve. He ignored Greyson’s offer of the tissues this time, in lieu of sniffing, hard, and meeting the other man’s eyes with a watery gaze. “You lied to mbe.”

“Oh, please, don’t be so dramatic,” Greyson said, pulling the supplies out of the bags and placing them pointedly on the table. “I didn’t lie to you. I tricked you,” he smiled at Elijah and offered him a bottle of nyquil – a peace offering. “Big difference.”

Elijah took the nyquil tentatively, and gave Greyson a look of confusion. “I dond’t… I don’t get it. Why?” he asked. Greyson shrugged.

“You’re a good boss, Lij, and an even better guy. You drive your staff home anytime they’re sick – hell, anytime they’re even hungover. But you refuse to give yourself the same treatment,” Greyson took the nyquil bottle back from his boss and cracked it open. He handed it back, along with a bag of lozenges, and the box of tissues. “You care for everyone in that restaurant. Who cares for you?”

Elijah felt his voice catch in his throat, so he closed his mouth, unable to form a response. They stood there together for a moment – Greyson sorting medicines quietly, Elijah watching with his arms full of the cold supplies he never would’ve bought himself – until he was finally able to get the words out. “Thangk you, Grey.”

Greyson smiled as he looked up at his boss. “No need to thank me,” he said. “Now take your fuckin’ medicine and get your ass in bed. I don’t trust you to not work, so I’ll be out here guarding the door until I’m positive you’re knocked out.”

Elijah huffed out a small laugh. “Oh, fuck you,” he said without malice. Greyson laughed back, in earnest.

“Get some rest, boss. I’ll be here if you need anything.”

[janeway-lover]

I have learned today that i am always a couple steps closer to violence than I think

[oneeyed-jacks]

Answers I had to give today hopefully y’all see this and not ask the same questions again.

I ain’t gonna have no outside seating for the bar.

I ain’t gonna add more food options at the bar yer fine with the bar snacks.

I ain’t gonna open a table just for ya.

If my bartender cuts ya off don’t ask someone else there gonna know ya cut off or ain’t allowed to serve drinks.

Most of the bouncers are trigger happy I ain’t responsible for ya getting shot.

Non of my games are rigged and ya ain’t getting a refund.

My bussers ain’t trying to rob ya they’re trying to clean ya damn table.

[welcome-home-official]

My boss has serious gall to text me asking to cover a shift LAST MINUTE (literally 10 min before I'd have to go in) because her busser today 'has a stomachache.'

If she needs HOURS of advance time so do I. The last time she pulled this I was in the middle of a family get-together that I had to leave AND miss out on a lot while I worked.

2. EVERY TIME I CALLED IN FOR STOMACH ISSUES/PERIOD CRAMPING ISSUES SHE ALWAYS GOT ON MY CASE ABOUT IT. Bitched at me if I called in an hour or less before I came in, bitched at me if I called *hours* beforehand like "Well wait until 3 and see if you feel better" basically causing a lot more problems and getting snippy with me, then she wants to bitch about my work performance/my sour attitude/crying in front of customers because of the pain! NOT EVERYONE CAN TAKE TYLENOL AND FEEL BETTER IMMEDIATELY ITS NOT A CURE-EVERYTHING MIRACLE!!!! So I'm not answering her. I feel like a part of this is a 'test' to see what days I am available because the last time I willingly covered a coworker's shift she forced me to work Mondays permanently DESPITE me signing up for this job for 'weekend only' because that's the time I had available. This job is SO HARD ON MY BODY that it's disabling me worse than I already am! I can't lift much of anything anymore without debilitating pain and I go into work tomorrow already, so I'm NOT putting myself in more pain than I already am but noooo not a valid reason enough to her, never is.

Not to mention that we lost *two* coworkers already, one quit because of how shit this job is and the other got fired. So hell no I'm not coming in when I got the next three days of Hell Torment Pain And Overstimulation to go through.

[the-restau-rants]

Monday Shenanigans, Part 3

So. As stated before, we are closed on Mondays. We have been for at least two years now. This is posted on our website, this is posted on the door to the main entrance to the building, it is on the door to the restaurant itself. We are closed on Mondays. Full stop.

Our new GM started a little policy where, every six months or so, there is an All-Staff Meeting, where all the managers, all the servers, all the bussers and hosts and bartenders and everyone else, all comes in for a couple of hours, and we go over, Where were we six months ago, where are we now, where would we like to be six months from now, and so on. Now, because he's asking everyone to come in for roughly two hours on their day off, he always feeds us. Because the kitchen is closed, we usually get something catered in, typically by a local Mexican restaurant. I pretty much zone out for the entire meeting, but I get free Mexican food, so I'm happy.

So. Our All-Staff Meeting was today. The whole staff is sitting at the tables, many of them still eating tacos. The GM is at the front, droning on about who knows what. And then we hear a voice from behind us.

"Um, hi? I've been standing at the front for several minutes, and nobody's come to seat me."

We turn, and there is a customer standing there, looking a bit confused.

"I'm sorry, sir, but the restaurant is closed today," says our GM.

"What do you mean?" the customer asks. "There are people in here, sitting at the tables eating. You can't be closed."

"This is a staff meeting," explains our GM. "These are the employees."

"Well, they're eating," says the customer, "so the kitchen must be open."

"The kitchen is not open," says the GM. "We got this catered in."

There is a long pause.

"Well, can I grab a plate, then?" asks the customer.

I genuinely want to study this person in a lab. How is that, in any way, in any reality, an acceptable thing to ask? What? Why? How? I am so confused.

[butchfriend]

i have been in such a weird emotional funk lately and spent the whole day today on the verge of tears for various reasons and then. then i went to my shift at the restaurant, realized i was the only busser scheduled on the busiest night we've had in weeks, literally ran for three hours nonstop clearing and setting tables, finally got to sit down at the end of the night and had the best glass of wine i've had in my whole life (one of the servers picked it out for me, god bless) and now i'm normal again 👍

[shriekingpotatos]

Sweet Tea

Today was a pretty busy day because some football game was going on. I'm not a sport person so I had no idea but go TEAM. DO THE THING. MAKE THE POINT.

Anyways, because it was busy, we were turning tables as quickly as possible. As soon as a table was up, it was immediately bussed (we don't have a busser so we bus the tables ourselves), reset, and resat. Great for making money. Not great if you forget stuff at your table that could potentially be confused with trash.

I had this lady at my table who seemed to be in a hurry from the very beginning which confuses me because 1) why are you at a sit down restaurant, especially one with a wait, if you're in a hurry and 2) She took her time while dining so she obviously wasn't THAT much in a hurry. I went to great her and before I could say "Hi, how are you?" she tells me she's still waiting for one more person but she wants a water and a sweet tea. Okay easy enough.

Fast forward to the end of her dining:

Me: Alrighty, here's the check for you, I hope y'all have a great rest of your day! Lady: Thank you. Oh, I want a sweet tea to go, is that possible? Me: Sure, no problem, I'll be right back.

Grab it for her, she leaves, continue to bus tables since 3 of mine got up at the same time.

About 5 minutes later, as I have an entire tray full of dirty glasses that I'm taking to the dish pit, I hear beside me, "Hey I forgot my sweet tea and they already threw it away..." I look over at the table and sure enough, my service partner already bussed my table for me (love her).

Me: Yeah, sure, I'll grab you another one, just let me drop this off in the kitchen and I will go make it. Lady: okay good.

As she says 'good', she puts her hand on my arm as a 'thank you', I assume, but just so happened to push hard enough that my tray went off balance and a full cup of water fell to the floor and shattered into a million pieces. It's not a big deal, it happens. I now, however, can no longer go with the original plan of grabbing the tea immediately and let her know that it'll be a minute since I need to clean this up.

I ask the hostess if she could grab me a broom since I cannot leave the shattered glass for obvious safety reasons and start to sweep everything up. Then, someone had to bring me a mop and a wet floor sign to finish up the job. The entire time I'm doing this (which took less than 3 minutes), the woman is standing by the kitchen door just glaring at me.

Then, once I'm done (which, again, less than three minutes), I go and grab her a to go cup full of sweet tea, and...she's gone. Asked the host if someone else got her a to go cup and was told they made one but she left without it. She also stiffed me on the bill and I'm assuming it's because of this whole debacle because she was fine and taken care of while she was dining. Or maybe she's just a cheap ass who doesn't tip. Who knows.

Oh well lol