#maybe if i do singular character x reader interactions or singular character headcannons i’ll use john and johnny

[pfhwrittes]

retail hell au again because why not. so imagine with me that 141 fellas find you after a miserable customer has made you cry.

warnings: reader!character is experiencing the aftermath of a panic attack/distressing emotions when she’s approached by the boys, nothing explicitly stated but she’s feeling a bit vulnerable.

fem!reader and the use of gendered pet names (hen, love) and use of the word cunt as an insult to describe a customer.

also apologies, i’m english and my grasp on scottish slang/scots has mostly been informed by the wonderful show Still Game which is distinctly glaswegian in flavour and various scottish twitter posts.

so you’re hiding out in the smoking area (lmao smoking area, okay let’s be honest it’s where a bucket filled with sand has been dumped near an ex-display bench about idk 20 feet from the customer entrance) because you just need 5 fucking minutes to compose yourself…

gaz is actually coming back from his lunch break and spots you hunched up on the bench in a way that looks truly uncomfortable. he carefully sits next to you and offers a soft smile when you look over at him. “bad customer?” he’s gentle when he asks and doesn’t make a fuss when you make a truly gross sniffling noise and wipe at your eyes. “want a hug?” you shake your head no and hunch in tighter on yourself. “want a milkshake?” you shrug and he passes over a strawberry milkshake. surprisingly he doesn’t say anything and let’s you drink in peace. you like gaz, he’s always friendly and warm when you interact briefly on the shop floor. he always seems to know what to say or do to get the best out of you and everyone else around him. eventually you check your phone and see it’s been 10 minutes since you left the customer service desk with tears in your eyes and lump burning your throat. embarrassment and residual anxiety washes through you when you recall how you’d all but fled to the safety of the smoker’s bench despite not smoking yourself. gaz catches your shudder when you check the time and knocks his shoulder into yours gently. “don’t worry, i’ll let price know you need a few more minutes, alright?” gaz gets up and heads inside the building, you know he’ll speak to price so you unfurl a little bit and chew on the straw of your milkshake.

soap and simon find you next. soap’s chattering away about the most recent delivery as they both approach your bench. simon stops dead a respectable three feet away but soap throws himself onto the bench bumping his knee into yours “what’s the matter wi’ you then, hen? you’ve a face like a smacked arse”. you shift away from soap, usually you don’t mind his directness but it’s just rubbing you the wrong way right now. you’re still feeling raw and a bit sick from finishing gaz’s milkshake and lingering anxiety. “fucks sake johnny, leave ‘er alone.” simon grumbles and fishes a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket. “how? am just askin’ what’s the matter!” soap’s hands swat the air near your face and you shuffle further along the bench to avoid being hit in the nose in his agitation. “johnny.” simon snaps and soap huffs and folds his arms across his chest. it’s quiet amongst the three of you while simon taps out a cigarette and pats down his pockets looking for a lighter. soap shoots a wink at you and starts playing with a lighter that apparently has just appeared from thin air. “give me my lighter back johnny.” “gies a cigarette an’ i’ll trade it.” “no.” “c’mon simon! wan little cigarette.” “fuck off.” “awright then you miserable bastard.” you shake your head at their bickering and hold out your hand. soap pouts but drops it into your open palm. you lob the lighter in a poor underhand throw to simon who plucks it out of the air easily and nods in appreciation. “aw c’mon hen, that’s no’ playin’ fair!” soap whines and knocks his knee into yours “i thought i was your favourite.” “favourite pain in the arse.” is simon’s dry response around the lit cigarette and you crack a wobbly smile. “there she is! didn’t i tell you si?” soap’s grin is blinding “i knew we could cheer her up!” your wobbly smile starts to resemble more of its usual cheer when you catch simon’s eye roll directed at soap. you open your mouth maybe to defend soap or maybe to provoke him, you haven’t quite decided, when a pointed throat clearing catches your trio’s attention. your smile drops off your face and the anxiety that had started to quiet down in the face of johnny’s cheerfulness rises again in your belly because price is aiming a stern look towards the three of you from only six feet away.

price gently sits next to you on the bench when you’re certain simon and johnny are back inside. johnny squawking about the injustice of having his break cut short and simon calling him an idiot in response as they both disappear through the doors. you open your mouth to apologise for skiving off and offer any reason or explanation that will help your case but your teeth click shut when price holds out a palm to forestall your inevitable word vomit. “i don’t want to hear it, love.” price’s tone isn’t unkind, he’s just shooting straight with you, it’s something you quite admire about him really. “that customer was a cunt quite frankly and i’m proud of you for handling her the way you did.” the praise creates a small glow in your chest and burns away the last of your dread. “but, a word of advice, as the duty manager for today?” price offers a small encouraging smile so you nod. “you’re not paid enough to put up with that shit, so don’t.” you grimace and blow out a breath, you want to argue, maybe even defend yourself and explain that it’s fine really that’s just how retail is. price chuckles “no love, listen. you aren’t paid enough, but i am. so next time it happens, send ‘em my way alright?” price offers another smile when you nod in agreement before pushing himself off the bench. “now, c’mon. i’ve got stock that needs counting down the plumbing aisle and you can give me a hand. no more talking to muppets on the customer service desk today.” you follow price back into the store feeling much better than you did twenty five minutes ago.

the rest of your shift passes by easily enough and you make a mental note to buy gaz a milkshake as a thank you when he shoots you a friendly smile as you pass him on your way out the store on your lunch.