#everyone go thank blake for co-workshopping the cashier/customer meet cute with me lol

[writing-good-vibes]

For the valentines one shot would it be possible to have a combination of meet cute and replacement ?

hey thanks so much for the request !! i did another fic with the replacement prompts which you can read [here] if you like !! but i hope you enjoy this one too !!

WARNING for corey x gn!reader and joan being The Worst™, but there's also a lot of awkward fluff heehee.

💘 very cute divider by @/saradika-graphics 💘

taglist: @slutforstabbings @ethanhoewke @voxmortuus (just let me know if you want to be added or removed !!)

This wasn't the first time a customer had yelled at you over something beyond your control and it certainly wouldn't be the last. Likely not even the last time today, and with that in mind you simply tried to weather this particular storm.

"Why didn't you mark it clearly? Are you just trying to trick your customers, now? Trick more money out of my pocket?"

"Ma'am," you try again. "I really am sorry for the confusion, but this item just isn't included in the promotion. I can void it from your bill, if you don't want it?"

This suggestion doesn't work, and the woman in front of you reiterates the same spiel of how you, the cashier, were clearly trying to con money directly from her pocket by not clearly indicated which cans were included in the 3-for-the-price-of-2 promotion.

While you waited your turn so you could assure her that, although it wasn't anything to do with you, you'd shoulder the blame and "Please, I can take it off your bill, or you can switch this can for one of the included items?", you notice the young man stood behind your enraged customer.

He's looking down at his shoes, shoulders hunched, but the embarrassed flush is still obvious on his soft cheeks.

He glances up occasionally, eyes darting around at everything in his vicinity; his mom (or who you presume to be his mother), the other customers who are either irritated by the hold up or amused by the scene playing out in front of them, and at you. His eyes stop on you for a moment too long, tracing your features quickly, before they snap back down to his sneakers.

You almost miss your cue to continue your placating attempts because your mind has wandered at the mere sight of this guy. You wonder if he flushes like that, all pink and bashful, about other things. Things more fun than his mother chewing out a minimum wage employee. You feel the heat start to rise beneath your own skin.

After way longer than you hoped, the woman finally concedes and sends the young man, her son, with strict instructions to go and get a new can from the promotion stand. He gets back in record time, giving you a tight smile as he hands you the can of peach slices for you to scan.

His mom complains the whole time.

You watch while the young man packs their grocery bags, broad hands enveloping each item as he organises everything methodically, like he's about to be fired from a job he doesn't have.

Finally the transaction is complete and your Angry Customer snatches the receipt from your hand and leaves with a thunderous rattle of the carts wheels.

Breathing deeply, you try to centre yourself. When you look up you see the young guy still stood at your checkout. Something about him makes you smile.

"Hey," he says quietly, wringing his hands. "I'm really, really sorry about her."

"It's okay," you assure him. "Won't be the first or the last time I deal with a situation like that." A shrug, as you try to maintain an air of nonchalance, while you rearrange some of of the junk -- pens, discarded price tickets, a Canadian quarter you'd found in the cash draw -- around your register.

"No, really, I mean it. You did a great job, she shouldn't have given you a hard time."

You're touched by his concern, even more touched when you look back up at him and his eyes are wet. "I'm okay, honestly. Thank you though, you're sweet. Was that your mom?"

"Yeah, she --," he hesitates, then just sort of gestures.

"Ah," you nod.

For a moment you both say nothing. Corey wrings his hands again restlessly. Under the halogen glow of the grocery store lights, you notice a silver signet ring glinting on his pinky finger.

"Corey? What are you doing? Get back here!" His mom is blocking half the exit door with her shopping cart, looking at him expectantly.

He flinches at his name. "I'm Corey," he - Corey - says, as though it weren't now obvious to everyone in the store. He steps out of the way of the checkout, allowing the next person in line to move forward as you start scanning their groceries.

You give him your name in return and then, "I'll see you here again?"

"Yeah, I mean probably. I uh, I really have to go. Um, bye -- I mean, see you!" he replies over his shoulder as he hurries off back to his mother.

You watch him leave, watch as he holds onto the shopping cart with one hand while his mother pushes it out the door and they cross the parking lot together. His mother is giving him an earful.