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yvessentials · 3 days ago

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i don't know, but i like it

linecook!remus x fem!reader

cw: fluff!! poorly described pub setting based on only my 6 months of waitress experience and my watching the bear, r gets yelled at (not remus), r stacks it majorly, sharing clothes, they're both emotionally constipated, title from follow excitement by rizzle kicks and rachel chinouriri

wc: 2.6k

linecook!au masterlist | main masterlist

“Two chickens for table five!”

You’re halfway through the door to the dining area, but Marlene’s resonant voice still rings out behind you. Balancing three plates on your hands and arms, there’s no time to register Frank rushing to pick up the meals, not when you’re weaving between multiple tables in the frustratingly dim room.

As the door closes behind you, the clanking of the kitchen dampens, replaced by the din of the customers. The Three-Wheeler, despite its unchanging menu and surly owner, always surprises you with how busy it gets.

The mismatching tables are populated by university students and retirees alike, both demographics somehow equally drunk. Passing by the bar, you hear Sirius put the moves on a guy— and possibly his girlfriend too— as he pours them two Guinesses.

Finally making it to your table, you plaster on your customer-service smile, carefully setting down each plate.

“That’s a chicken burger, cheeseburger and a steak for you guys. Can I get you anything else?”

The moment they shake their heads, you’re gone, crossing the room as fast as possible without running.

You love Lily, you really do, but when her PhD’s got her halfway across the country for fieldwork, you can’t help but harbour a little resentment. Splitting her tables between you and Frank has got you spread thin.

Despite the extra work, your biggest gripe over Lily being away is:

“Hi mate, welcome to the Three-Wheeler. This your girlfriend? Must be nice. Y’know, my girlfriend’s abandoned me right now, but trust me—”

James is half-slumped over the host stand, probably a few days of work away from going on strike until Lily comes back. Til then, however, you’ve got to keep him on task.

Passing a little too close behind him, you shoulder-check him once, sing-songing under your breath.

“Tables two and seven are free, Jamesie. How about sending these two off?”

His shoulders slump even further, but he directs the confused couple to table seven with a sigh. Satisfied, you continue on to the kitchen.

It only takes one detour to get water for table ten, but you make it, spying Remus dishing up two plates as you close the door behind you. Like he can sense your entrance, he looks up, hazel eyes locking onto yours.

Even in your short tenure as a waitress, you’ve gotten on with your coworkers exceptionally well. James and Lily have all but adopted you, and with them came Marlene, Frank, Sirius and Dorcas. Closing shifts and many nights out have bonded you to them more than you’d expected. Even the other part-timers are on good terms with you, creating a friendly atmosphere.

Despite that, one person remains elusive. Remus, with his ever-present scowl and practised ease in the kitchen. You’ve had a couple of conversations, but it never feels like you’re getting past his surly exterior. He’s only ever smiled at you once, when you were dad-joke-machine drunk, but other than that there’s not been much progress.

You know he’s close to James and Sirius, something about old school friends, but even then you barely see him crack a smile, at least at work, leaving you rather unsettled in his presence.

It doesn’t help that he’s infuriatingly gorgeous, does it? His face is all sharp angles and fierce features, intimidating and enchanting all at once. Not to mention his voice, gruff and gravelly, leaving you reeling if you think about him too long.

His eye contact doesn’t stop, not even when he’s tapping the bell and calling out.

“Two chicken and chips for table eleven!”

That’s what snaps you out of your thoughts, ears perking up at the mention of your table. Rushing forward, you reach for the dishes before discarding the ticket.

“Thanks!” You flash him a smile, but you’re given only a nod before he turns back to the stove.

Well. They said he was a tough nut to crack.

Squaring your shoulders, you turn to the door, pushing it open with the soups in hand.

Table eleven is clear across the room (confusing, considering table ten is right by the kitchen), forcing you to repeat the balancing act of dodging customers and tables while handling two hot plates. The layout of the pub is all but muscle memory at this point, so you’re able to focus on the dishes at first, but a louder voice pulls you right out of your head.

Only one table stands between you and your destination, a rowdy group of uni-aged boys. As far as you can recall, they’ve been relatively normal all night. Clearly not anymore, though.

One guy’s standing up, pint glass in hand as he acts out something to his raucous friends. They can’t get enough of him, clapping and shouting at him to continue, which he gladly does, taking up the entire aisle between their table and the closest one next to them.

He launches back into it, arms swinging as his gestures become more and more exaggerated. You normally wouldn’t begrudge him this, but considering the fact that he’s blocking your way and the people at the table over are looking more than annoyed, you have to say something.

“Hi— excuse me?”

He seems to ignore you altogether, pausing a moment and then continuing with even more gusto. Raising your voice further, you speak up again.

“Hey, could you please move out of the way? I just need to—”

Your sentence is cut off, the guy whirling around with an annoyed expression. Before he can even snap at you, his hand is shooting out in front of him, in what would be an effective silencing maneuver. It would be, if he didn’t have a glass in his hand, and if he wasn’t a couple drinks past tipsy.

Instead, his pint glass goes flying out of his hand, knocking into your shoulder with a surprising amount of force. The shock combined with your uneven stance sends you careening, uselessly keeping your grip on the two plates.

Time slows for a second as you watch your sightline go from horizontal to vertical, cringing at the feeling of greasy chips landing on your shirt. The moment hangs in the air for a second, the tables around you shocked into silence.

However, just as easily as it started, the silence breaks. The drunk guy’s started to bark his words down at you, something about getting out of the fucking way and watching where you’re going, cunt, along with much more that simply doesn’t register in your mind.

It’s too much, the ache in your back from landing on the hard floor, the icky feeling of oil spattered on your shirt, and the asshole yelling down at you. You try and will yourself into standing up, or talking back, but it’s all you can do to sit up, fighting the urge to shrink away from the guy above you.

Each small protest goes unnoticed, and he’s looming closer and closer. All you can register in the moment is the sight in front of you, and your fingers, somehow still tightly gripping the two empty plates.

It seems like an eternity, but all at once, it’s over. He’s gone silent, and there are hands on your shoulders all of a sudden.

“C’mon, got to get up, now. You hurt anywhere?”

Remus’ voice wraps around you like salve on an open wound, shocking you out of your haze all at once. Turning your head, you see he’s crouched behind you, hands urging you upward. Following him blindly, you’re shaking off the stupor slowly.

You rise to your feet, let him prise the plates out of your hands and turn you to face him. Distantly, you hear James speaking in a low, dangerous voice behind you, accompanied by plenty of cursing from Dorcas and Sirius.

Remus ducks slightly to meet your downturned gaze. You’re suddenly very aware that you’re making a scene in the middle of the pub.

“Hey. You hurt?”

You shake your head, words streaming out of your mouth like a dam’s broken.

“No, I’m fine, Remus. Thanks, um, I’m sorry about all that. I’ll go get a mop, and—”

He’s steering you through the room now, towards the kitchen door. Out of the corner of your eye, you see James throwing the idiot out with a mean sneer, his friends following him.

The noise fades as you walk into the kitchen, the sound of the cooks soothing you out of your shock further.

Marlene yelps at the sight of you, abandoning her station to accost you and Remus.

“What happened? Oh, your shirt, lovely. Did you drop a plate?”

She’s quickly helping him herd you into the break room, peppering you with questions.

“I’m fine, Marls. Some guy accidentally knocked his glass into me and I fell. It’s alright.”

Remus grumbles a little, gruffly explaining.

“It wasn’t exactly an accident, was it? The dick was going to shove you on purpose. Don’t act like that was an honest mistake.”

You’ve never heard him string so many sentences together at once.

Marlene squawks predictably, immediately launching into a tirade of threats. You try and reassure her that he’s gone, but she’s not deterred. At least it does a good job at cheering you up, the flame of embarrassment receding from your cheeks.

It takes him a while, but Remus manages to talk her down, forcing her back to the kitchen with a promise to call Dorcas in otherwise. Once she’s gone, he doesn’t say a word, crossing the room to the employee lockers, punching in his code. Equally silent, you watch him.

He roots around in his bag for a bit, before emerging with a black shirt in hand.

“Here.”

He’s holding it out to you now, eyes not exactly looking at yours, rather somewhere near your left eyebrow.

“What?”

“Your shirt. Can’t exactly wear that the rest of the night, can you?”

He’s right, your white shirt’s got several splotchy bits stained with oil, crumbs glued to your front.

But Remus offering you a shirt clashes so severely with your impression of him that you can’t help but protest.

“Oh, that’s okay, Remus. I’ll borrow one from Marlene or something, you don’t have to.”

As if he doesn’t hear you, he pushes the shirt into your hand, nodding at you pointedly before leaving through the kitchen door.

You’re reeling a little, and have half a mind to go ask Marlene for a shirt anyway. But, looking down at the state of you, you know you can’t go out into the kitchen again without all the coworkers you don’t know well staring more than they already have tonight.

Deciding on the lesser of two evils, you head to the employee bathroom to change.

Other than multiple people pulling you aside to overbearingly ask if you’re alright — then teasing you relentlessly when they realise where you got your replacement shirt from, the rest of the night goes well. No more mishaps, and you’re all but finished cleaning up just half an hour after closing.

“Finally! Thought I was going to have to finish that bottle of Jack myself, barely got it stuffed in the cupboard.”

Sirius stretches his hands over his head with a groan, flashing you a grin when you giggle.

“Sure, you laugh now, but what you going to tell Minnie when her beloved bartender quits because of the state of the walk in?”

“Minnie’ll be better off without you, Siri, we all know that.”

James chimes in as he meets the two of you on the curb outside the terrace. You ignore Sirius’ incensed arguing, tuning them both out as you root around in your bag for your bus card.

The rest of your coworkers slowly trickle out of the door, Dorcas locking it behind her. With waves goodnight and murmured greetings, people slowly peel away from the group, until only you, James, and Remus are left, coincidentally walking the same way.

“...getting in tomorrow to Gatwick, so I’m taking the night off and picking her up, thank god.”

“Thank god.”

Remus agrees with James, nodding with a slight smirk.

“Oi!” James shoves him lightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Come off it, you know you’ve been insufferable without Lily here as a buffer, don’t deny it.”

Remus deadpans, your laughter intensifying as James sputters indignantly.

“What? Do you all think this? Do you?”

James turns to you, eyes wide.

“Well, I mean yeah, a little. You and Lily are such a duo that it’s a little much to have you here without her balancing you out.”

The betrayal on his face is comical, turning to face forward with an overdramatic huff.

“This is ridiculous. It’s your fault, Remus, you’ve poisoned her.”

“What’s that?”

“She’s only agreeing with you because you lent her your shirt. We all know you guys love me.”

Remus chuckles, a low rumbly sound that sends shivers down your spine. James huffs again.

“Fine, whatever. If you want to be an arse, that’s fine with me. I’m going to my car, arsehole.”

He stops at his red Audi, still frowning comically.

“Goodnight, James!” You call out over your shoulder to him, receiving a grumbled goodnight in return, making you giggle again.

However, you’re missing him immediately. Without James’ chatter, the two of you have fallen silent, and you’ve got no way of breaking it. Wracking your brain for any topic of conversation, you come up empty, simply staying mute until you make it to the bus stop.

Slowing awkwardly, you fiddle with your fingers.

“So… This is me. My stop, I mean. Um, goodnight.”

Remus nods curtly, slowing to a stop with you. Confused, you look up at him.

You know he doesn’t take the bus, you’ve heard from the others that he lives within walking distance of the pub.

“Do you… Are you taking the bus, too?”

He shakes his head once, leaving a beat of silence before speaking.

“I’ll wait here until it comes.”

The short statement sends your thoughts spiralling. Why? Is he feeling obligated to stay?

You must be silent for a little too long, because he pipes up again, a hand coming up to rub the back of his neck.

“That okay with you?”

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine with that. Thanks.”

Neither of you says a word, looking around and watching the little screen count down the minutes to the bus’s arrival. This time, however, the silence isn’t as nerve-wracking as before. You couldn’t say why, but you don’t feel addled. Instead, the silence is more comfortable than anything.

Finally, the bus comes careening down the road, rolling to a stop in front of you. As the door opens, you turn to Remus.

“Goodnight. Thanks for waiting with me, and the shirt, and all that. I’ll wash it and bring it back tomorrow, okay? We’re both working, right?”

The bus driver’s starting to look annoyed by your lingering, so you step onto the vehicle, tapping your card.

“—So, I’ll bring it. Tomorrow. Um, goodnight.”

He looks up at you. If you were a little more delusional, you’d say there was a ghost of a smile on his face.

“Yeah. Night.”

Cheeks burning, you let the door shut and take a seat by a window.

As the bus pulls away from the pavement, you see Remus, still standing at the stop, illuminated by the lampposts and the moon.

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yvessentials · 5 days ago

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The bow tie club has trouble waking up 🥹💞🎀💝

Awwww, love how the sun blinds them all in different ways 😂😆

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yvessentials · 5 days ago

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today's mini fellas are the cabincore!

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yvessentials · 5 days ago

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day2 prompt: COFFIN

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yvessentials · 7 days ago

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tw: unsettling imagery, uncanny(?), mild blood, faceless people

　　₊ ˚ ⊹ ࿔　⊙‿ꏿ 　　 𓂃 　우린 그냥 do it 'cause it's　 fun

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yvessentials · 7 days ago

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tw: unsettling imagery, uncanny(?), mild blood, faceless people

　　₊ ˚ ⊹ ࿔　⊙‿ꏿ 　　 𓂃 　우린 그냥 do it 'cause it's　 fun

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yvessentials · 11 days ago

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me when i voluntarily read angst and end up making myself depressed

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yvessentials · 12 days ago

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I genuinely use x reader fanfics to write actual character x character fanfics.

" Why?" You ask.

Well, dear reader, I've come to notice that a lot of x reader fanfics capture both complex and simplistic traits of the characters written in them.

For some reason, x reader authors are alarmingly good at interpreting characters and understanding what they would do in a situation outside of their canon storyline.

They're all gooners but with the literacy skills of Shakespeare. 👏

Shout out to every x reader author out there. Here's a picture of my former president -Uhuru Kenyatta - as a thank you gift.

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yvessentials · 12 days ago

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caitvi are the emperors of a huge empire, while the reader is just a daughter of a merchant.

the reader “steals” an invitation to one of the royal balls and spends the night dancing and enjoying herself while she can.

but she doesn’t know that caitlyn and vi is whispering about a pretty, unknown girl — and secretly planning to take her to her room. 😜

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yvessentials · 14 days ago

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𝜗౿ — This must be what sweet addiction is, darling

| chuuves, coffee shop au, fluff Ꮺ୧ [wc: 900] Ꮺ୧ a/n: literally the first time ive voluntarily written over 200 words pls be nice 😭

Trying to have a big break in the music industry was nearly impossible. Sometimes during late nights (or early mornings), her brain would berate her constantly, asking why she chose this career path out of everything. She was smart and excelling in all her classes, so why didn’t she just become a doctor or, at the very least, something more responsible? She shook her head. Ha Soo-young, also known as Yves, didn't have time to grieve her past decisions. Her label demanded that she finish the song she started writing. So, as one does, Soo-young opted to walk to one of the new cafés that opened up around the corner. Looking up, she was face-to-face with a very dainty-looking building; painted flowers of pastel blue and pink scaled the doorframe and slightly diagonally to the left was a hanging sign that read, ‘Pink Cloud Café’, a little cat motif plastered atop the word Cloud. She thought the name was a little on-the-nose but— who was she to judge?

The soft sound of a bell chiming touched her ears when she brushed the door open, velvety aromas of strawberry and apple filled her nose. As she approached the counter, a voice chirped up in front of her.

“Hey~ I haven’t seen you here before!” A pretty girl with cotton candy-pink hair, wide brown eyes, and an eye-burningly cute apron appeared in front of her. Her eyes wandered down to the girl's name tag, adorned with pink sparkly stickers, which read, Jiwoo.. How cute…

“What can I getcha? (,,>ヮ<,,)! ” Soo-young was briefly startled. How could someone have this much enthusiasm at 8 in the morning?

“I- uhm… Do you have any recommendations?” She mentally cursed at herself for stuttering in front of the cute girl. The charismatic pinkette seemed to brighten at the question.

“Absolutely! I’ll let you know some of my favourites!!! ^^” As she started yapping and pointing at the different menu items she enjoyed, Soo-young seemed to zone out, gazing into the girl's eyes.

“So, what’ll it be today? ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ )” Snapped back to reality, Soo-young quickly glanced at the menu, finger landing on the first thing she could see: the strawberry frappuccino. She didn’t particularly enjoy strawberry-flavoured desserts OR even sweet treats, often just defaulting to a black coffee.

“A strawberry frappuccino? Really? You don't look like the type of person to order something like that!” Soo-young’s mouth gaped, ready with a retort.

“I’m just kidding. If you enjoy strawberry sweet treats, I can't judge~” The barista giggled, gesturing down to her pink, strawberry-clad apron.

Jiwoo’s hand reached out to the stack of cups on the left of the cash register. “And what name will the order be under?” “Uh… just put it under Yves.” The black haired girl didn’t even know why she was so nervous; she had ordered coffee before. This time just felt… different?

“Waow! Your name is so pretty!” There was a beat before rushed chatter spewed out. “... OHMIGOSH, I’m so sorry. I just realised I’ve just been talking at you and I haven’t even told you my name yet! You can call me Jiwoo!!” The pinkie rambled on. Soo-young just smiled and nodded, completely disregarding the fact that the girl across from her had forgotten she was wearing a name tag.

Jiwoo scribbled on the cup, then grinned at the ravenette. “Your order will be out shortly!” Soo-young awkwardly shuffled to the side, clutching her bag and scanning the café for a seat. She settled for a two-person table near the back of the establishment. As Soo-young got to the table, she sat down. She noticed there was a newspaper on the table, the front page headline reading, ‘[BREAKING] Lesbian Korean Billionaires, Ha Soo Young and Kim Ji Woo, marry. With a combined net worth of $170 BILLION, this makes them the richest couple alive’. Her eyebrow raised before she picked up and discarded the newspaper.

She was locked into her writing for a good 4 minutes, headphones were on, laptop out and Soo-young was focused on finishing this song. Though there was one thought persisting in the back of her mind: go ask the cute barista for her number… No, she couldn't. She had come to this café to finish writing her song, not to get distracted by pretty girls! And she didn’t even know if the pink-haired barista was into girls or not! Brought back to reality with the noise of plastic on wood, the black haired girl peeked over her laptop, only to be met eye-to-eye with the girl she had been daydreaming about not even 5 seconds ago.

Jiwoo beamed, “Sorry for interrupting, you look reaaaaaaally busy, but here's your strawberry frappuccino! Enjoy!” She placed the soft pink drink on the table before skittering away to serve another customer. Soo-young slowly blinked at the drink ‘fucking strawberry frappuccino..’, completely ignoring it, before continuing to type away at her half-arsed song. It had been an hour and a half at that point when she realised she hadn’t so much as even touched her pink beverage. It had melted into strawberry-flavoured goop, a ring of condensation under the cup as a result of her neglect.

Soo-young slowly pushed the lid of her laptop down. As she grabbed the cold, plastic cup, the straw came up to her lips. Strawberry flavour flooded her taste buds, eyes widened at how much she was enjoying the sweet drink. Maybe this place was onto something. She brought the plastic away from her lips when she saw Sharpie roughly scribbled on the lid of her drink. The black marker had read, ‘I think you’re cute, call me! +82-10-xxxx-xxx’. Soo-young could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks, resting her head on her laptop atop crossed arms. She glimpsed up briefly, her gaze meeting a grinning pinkette.

She’d definitely come back again.

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yvessentials · 14 days ago

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𝜗౿ — This must be what sweet addiction is, darling

| chuuves, coffee shop au, fluff Ꮺ୧ [wc: 900] Ꮺ୧ a/n: literally the first time ive voluntarily written over 200 words pls be nice 😭

“What can I getcha? (,,>ヮ<,,)! ” Soo-young was briefly startled. How could someone have this much enthusiasm at 8 in the morning?

“I- uhm… Do you have any recommendations?” She mentally cursed at herself for stuttering in front of the cute girl. The charismatic pinkette seemed to brighten at the question.

“A strawberry frappuccino? Really? You don't look like the type of person to order something like that!” Soo-young’s mouth gaped, ready with a retort.

“I’m just kidding. If you enjoy strawberry sweet treats, I can't judge~” The barista giggled, gesturing down to her pink, strawberry-clad apron.

She’d definitely come back again.