At Your Service! - Y!Forsaken/GN!Reader

by hardcorenawesome

Summary:

You lived to serve. It seems like no matter where you go, you're stuck working in customer service. From Robloxity City, the little town of Robloxia, to the afterlife. But now trapped in eternity (unsure if you were even alive anymore) with the clingiest beings in all of Roblox, you're beginning to doubt that the customer is always right...

---

Slow burnish various yandere story with a gender-neutral reader.

Cross-posted to quotev and wattpad under mynarne.

Chapter 1: Preface

The reader is gender-neutral; I will refer to them as 'you/your' due to the flexibility of secondary point of view. I will try and keep them as ambiguous as possible.

All characters in this story are fictional portrayals based on the avatar and characterization from Forsaken. Nothing written is to be taken as fact or a realistic portrayal of characters based on real people.

Especially Builderman. He and Baszucki are two very different beings to me, and we hate Baszucki for his lack of accountability regarding Roblox moderation. It's so embarrassing as a person who unironically finds Builderman (the avatar) attractive while this is happening. #freeschlep

Yanderes are toxic and not to be taken lightly. Do not replicate their behaviors; this is fiction, something to be enjoyed, not copied. Their behaviors are not to be idealized.

This will be an attempted slow burn. I have paragraphs and paragraphs of notes for how the story will progress alongside dynamics. If I ever want to discontinue this, I'd post the notes. I am in college, so this will take a while. So please sit back and relax.

Please feel free to comment, whether it's criticism or praise; either will motivate me to write more.

Which equals finishing the story faster

Inspiration: "With Eyes I See" by "existance-is-a-pain87" on Tumblr. I loved the idea of interacting with the gang before being "forsakened" and adored the setting, so I took large inspiration from their work. Go check it out! But there is violence and very brief implied sexual content.

Warnings below (I'll add more as I go if needed):
Swearing.
Violence.
Unhealthy obsession.
Manipulation.
Isolation.
Bullying.
Drinking.
Forced kissing.
Uncomfortable intimacy (ie, hugging without asking, being touchy-feely in a non-lewd manner, etc).
Ooc writing probably. (I'm already bending realities and lore to justify Guest being in-universe)
Poor attempts at Italian lingo.
Whatever the hell Dusekkar's rhyme scheme has going on.

What I will NEVER write: Anything explicit nsfw (especially noncon).

I MIGHT add Veeronica and Guest 666 if they come out before I get to certain chapters or if after their lore is revealed (which I assume is during their release) and if it fits with the narrative I came up with.

 

Platonic:

c00lkidd "My dad likes you." (imagine he's holding a large lollipop)

Side Love Interests:

Daisy: "He'd love you..."

Jane Doe: "Won't you stay over? John and I don't mind sharing..."

Main Love Interests:

Chance: "C'mon, baby, let's have some fun!"

007n7: "We could be a family..."

Guest 1337: "She wrote a lot about you."

Elliot: "We're alike, y'know."

Dusekkar: "What spell must you have cast to cause my heart to beat and thump so fast?"

Shedletsky: "Say the word, darling, and I'll slice them apart."

Builderman: "Yer powering something deep inside of me...."

Two Time: "The almighty Spawn has brought you to me, my flower, and I shan't disappoint."

Noob: "Y-you won't leave me t-too right?"

Taph: "✡︎□︎◆︎ ❍︎♋︎🙵♏︎ ❍︎⍓︎ ♒︎♏︎♋︎❒︎⧫︎ ♑︎□︎📬︎📬︎📬︎ 👌︎⚐︎⚐︎💣︎✏︎."

Mafioso: "Join the Sonnellio family, tesoro."

John Doe: "... that face..."

Slasher: "... Mama likes you..."

Noli: "What does he see in you?"

1x1x1x1: "He's fond of you. Disgusting."

The Spectre: "̷̝͋́̆Y̴̹̐͑̊͜ờ̶͚͎̱̇ǔ̸̼̻̪̮'̷̱͚̅̋ͅv̵͓͛̃͑͆e̵̩̘͍͗̂ ̵̨̙͇̐̎ͅl̵̠̮̽e̶̤͍̬̝̎̑̑d̶̖̰͓͎̑ ̵̪̇͠t̶̢̥̲̝̃͑͛ḩ̵̣̤̀͊̅e̸̳͈̍m̸̬̿ ̴̡̣̯̦͑͂̚t̶̝̟̄͝ǫ̷̖́̕ ̶͈̯͈̾̔r̸̡͔̈͛͋͝u̴̠̺̜̝̽̃͝i̵̼̬̾̅͠ǹ̸̺̤̦̜.̷̺̰̇̉̊ ̷̠̣̮̦̔́Ď̸̻͜͜r̴̛̟͎͚a̶͈̣͘g̷̜͚͒͒̔͒g̸̢̨̠̝̃̐̈́i̶̙̲̘͗̾n̶̡̅̍͌g̵̜͒̋ ̸͔̬͉͑̃̎ṯ̸͒̑h̵̖̲̍̕e̸̟͐͘m̴̪͚̭͗͌̍̈́ ̸̡̡̦̅͜b̴̫͉͋̃͘ŷ̸̳̻̼̎́ͅ ̶̧̪͕̎̐̅͝t̶͍̬͌h̶͔̥̺͍̆̌̑̚e̸̱̳̭̙̿͐̑͠ǐ̴͓͎̂̈́̇ř̷͕͎̤̂ ̸͚̣̈́̒͜h̸̞̆ȩ̸̗̪̦̔̆ą̷̛̳̱̅̃͗r̸͖̩̪͗̅t̷̡̲̺̰̔̑̀͌s̷̖̟̣̪̄t̶̤͛r̴̬̘̯̅͜i̴͖͖̤̩͠n̶̲̦͊̂͐g̴̼͓̠͓̈́ș̸̡̒͝ ̸̣̠͠ä̸͔́͛́s̶̭̎́̕ ̸̘̥͎͗ḯ̸̫̘̋̈́f̷͕͙̼̆ ̸͓̯̰̔t̴̫͍͊͌̀h̶̭̒é̵͇̀̄y̸͕̼͍̟͒ ̵̝̞̻͎̒̓̈̍w̷̙̋̈́̎ë̸̫͈͍̹́ȓ̴͙̬̠̬̀͌̕é̸̢̧̖̹̃͘ ̷͙̋ỳ̴͔̑o̶͍̘̅u̸͙͈̐̅̈̃r̶̛͕̃̀͝ ̸̮̜̠̐̍p̶͓̮̜̯̽ú̷̟͓̎̇͝p̶̨͑̍̚p̷̛̰̊͊͒é̵͎̰̒̈́́͜t̵̲͙̂ś̴͍̕,̵̝̏͝ ̸̫̅̈́͑͂b̴̡̛͙̈́̕͝e̴̳̮͕̓̍͂͝n̶̫̼͙̊̄̋ḓ̸́͘͝ḯ̶̞̞̠ṇ̷̌́͘̚g̸̡̼̦̹̾̀̀ ̶̫͒t̴̢̰̗͌̑o̸̭̮͕͋̕ ̵̺͂̒͛̓y̸̬͛̊o̶̘͙̅̍͐u̴̱͙̅̔͝r̶͙̖͇͆ ̶̖̺́̉͝w̷͎͐̍i̵͕͖͝l̴̮̓l̴̛͖̯̆̒̏͜.̵͈̱͓̃͌ ̷̡̰́̐͑͝Į̶̘̫̑̌̎̚ṯ̴̓̌̕'̸͇͕͐̅̀̂s̸̫̖̓͌̀ ̵̛̹͝ḑ̵͔̣̬͛̚͝ȅ̷̢̢̯̝̐̾ĺ̸̢̬í̷̬͉̕ç̶͙͙̔i̷̡͎͖͚͊̄́̎o̵̗͙͚͐̐ụ̵̩̞̇s̴̢̆͛͒͝ ̵̫̟́̋̍͠t̶̖̗̯̊ö̶̘̭̗̋ ̴̭̓̒̔͠ẁ̵̪̈́̏̑ą̶͈̩́̆̽̂t̸̟͓͎͗͊c̴̡̨̨͔͌͒̅h̸̤́͛,̷̻͙̗̅͜ ̷̫͌̕͠m̴̘͙̭͉͋̅͝y̶̭̫̒̈́̋ ̶̭̿̈́̕s̷̫̺̅̀̈́e̴̖̋͌r̴̲͍̼͒̓͜v̶̿̂͜͝a̷͈̔̂͝͝n̵̙͓̋̓̿t̴̮̘̻͋.̶̗̭̈́̚͝ ̸̙̈́̂͝B̵̬̝͉̓̀̔͝u̴̧̙͛͂t̶̠̉ ̶̧̑k̷̡̹̩̟͗̑̑͠ň̸̲̘̻͂o̶̬̥̠͛̍͝w̵̟̜̘̚͜ ̶̘̳͐̃̿̒t̶̩̑͒̏h̸̞͂͑̕̕a̶̹̭̩̞̎͗̿̂t̶̬͖͓̰̓͌͝ ̵̼̰̹̂͑͘i̶͇͖͘n̵̘̅́ ̵̧̪̞͒͐͝t̶̡̮̗̄ḥ̴͇͕͍̅̾̕e̴͕̪̊̆ ̷̤̣̹̬̅̾̂̒é̸̖̝͙̲͆̓̄n̷̢̼̦̪̈͑̊d̴̼̐,̴̛̗̓̀̔ ̴͈̥͕̃͛̇̕I̷̪̱͗̚ ̴̨̢̰̱̎w̶̝̦̤͖̽̈ȋ̴̧̬̈̐é̸̺l̴̮͊̓̈́d̸̢̛͖ ̸̭͗̑͝y̵̩̣̮̼͂o̵̭̐ų̴̦͔̒̈́͐r̵̳̦̔̉͗͝s̷̙̃.̷̞̰̪̌ͅ ̴̡͓̙̜͆̅́̕Ş̷͇̫̦͆̾̅͘o̵̧̠͓̩͗͝ ̴͓̇́̾d̴̪͈̋ͅo̵͖̫̚͝ͅņ̷̮͎̐'̸̧̳̲̘̽́͌̽t̴̮̳̥̿̈́̀͛ ̷̡̊̈́̚c̴̢̯͙͛̇̓r̴̦̭̳͆́y̵̤̌̃͌ ̸̙̳͉͔̐̾̀w̶̳͖̆h̶̟̋̎͊̍ę̷͕̇n̶̙͓͑̇͝͠ ̵̣̯͉̉̐̉͑Ḭ̴͊͆͝ ̷̰̦̰̍w̵̛̞̞r̵̟̣͒̅͊͊ä̶͍͓̽̽̾p̴̦̮͔͗ ̵̟̞̗̔̇̉̈́ŷ̷̙̩̊̉o̴̝̠͍̝̓̓ù̵̥̭̗̈́̕ŕ̵̪̺̙̚ ̴͎̣̦͛̃͘š̴̨͍͒̏t̸̛̠̥͊̋ȓ̴̹̼̗̼i̵̹̥͑̎͜n̸̻͍̎́͐̕͜g̷̦̀̊̑ŝ̵̡͙̮̪̈ ̸̦̱̟̏͘a̵̪̦͈̕r̸̢̹̲͗ǫ̸̼͎̾̉̔̚ṳ̷́̿͝n̷͈̦̐̾ḏ̵͚̐ ̷͇́̇͝ͅỵ̷̆̽͝o̴̖̬̚͜u̵̢̬̜̓͜r̵͇͊͒͒͝ ̷̺̜̖͙̓t̷̨͖͉͊h̷̳̋̀̔̕ȑ̵̨̈̉̄o̷̡̖̞̻̅͆͂͝ȁ̵̳̪̼̀͋̆ṯ̵̟̕͝.̷̫̳̉͊ ̵̢̧̬̈́̿͘Ï̵̮̏̀t̵̤̔'̸͙̜̞͆̊̌̓s̴̨̜̤̩̈́͛ ̶̮̟̼̖̂͛͒͝a̶͓̻̬͑̿̄l̷̰̦̍͗̿̕͜l̴͚̺̞̉̽̽̆ ̶͔̥͍͈̅̎̆a̴̡̘̦̱͒̀ ̶̤̍͐͛͝g̴̭̻̭͇̃̽a̸̻̪͈͐͑͜m̸̱̞̝̱̀̅̅e̷̬̫̼̱͗͐̊͠.̸͉͛"̸̢̧̩̟̓̋

Chapter 2: The Iron Cafe

Life in the city is never dull.

Except for you.

You knew that for sure, as an employee working the night shift at The Iron Cafe, Roblox's hottest hangout spot since 2008.

On the surface, it's an average cafe, with the first story offering a casual setting. Wooden tables and chairs were strewn across the tiny cafe, all of which were typically occupied by hipsters, businesspeople, and the occasional overworked Robloxian on break. But that's during the day. The night is much different.

Calm, smooth jazz emitted from the solitary radio beside the cash register. Warm, low lighting illuminates the vacant establishment. Well, it's not truly vacant, you're here, of course... but not where the real fun is.

"Holy shit, the Iron Special got me ###### up!1!" The crowned Robloxian giggled, swaying his way up the stairway from the basement.

"Dude," his green blockheaded friend scoffed, lifting the regal fella up by the arm, dragging him up straight, "That was hot chocolate."

"Yeah. But you know how cocoa makes me sleepy lol..." the other muttered, limping towards the entrance.

Tearing away your gaze, it returns to the counter as you mindlessly rewipe the already clean surface. The door chimed as you then focused on the glass case, and you assumed the pair had left. You'd have to take stock soon before your shift ends.

Bending over to properly sweep away or scrub any semblance of crumbs or spills on the glass. There weren't many pastries left; most were gone within hours, and the ones that remained were cold and unwanted. A lone slice of carrot cake, four pretzels, and a handsome face staring at you from the other side of the glass.

His eyes were obscured by his sleek Clockwork sunglasses. He tugged his shades down to the root of his nose, just enough to see his piercing blue eyes flickering across your facial features. All before he grinned.

And you eyed him back. He was as grey as the stones you'd toss at Gemstone Lake, and his eyes were as blue as the water. Although he wore a suit, it was clear he wasn't the typical office worker or corporate drone.

No. The stranger didn't have the eye bags the others carried, or the haughty attitude the more well-off ones exuded.

His fedora was as sparkly as the lake at night; if it were anyone else, you'd scoff, but something about his demeanor made him pull it off.

Perhaps it was the confidence and audacity he carried, or maybe it was the way he looked at you. Regardless, he knew he was something and made sure everyone knew it.

There was a pause.

The two of you gazing at each other through the glass display case, both still slightly bent over.

How long has he been standing there? You wondered to yourself as you slowly stood up straight, still slightly hidden behind the case but more visible.

And he followed soon after, that stupid smile still on his face.

"Don't mind me, gorgeous," The stranger cooed, leaning against the wooden counter, his eyes still burning into your skin, "I'm just checking out the goods."

Frozen, you look at him, a confused smile on your lips, "Um... Do you like what you see?"

"Love it, actually," He replied coolly, leaning in.

Oh my God. This person smells like wild cherries... You muse to yourself.

"T-the pretzels are discounted," You began, your fingers mindlessly tugging and toying with the waist ties of your apron.

"Mhm..." He nodded, his hum slow as if savoring the moment.

"So is the cake," You continued, your eyes averting his.

"Hm..." He tapped his chin, his nails painted black, "What do you think, good-looking?"

"Good-looking?" You repeat, eyes wide.

"Sorry. Great-looking," The stranger chuckled.

"... I-I'd recommend the cake," You replied, forcing yourself to face him and flirtations, "It's my favorite."

"Perfect!" He beamed, and your gaze followed his fingers as he reached for his wallet. You couldn't help but stare at the flintlock pistol holstered on his hip. Your stare is only broken once he waves a stack of Robux in your face.

"That's way too much, sir," You began, but he shook his head, sliding you what looked to be about five hundred Robux. All of this for a crummy slice of carrot cake that costs three Robux.

"No. Take it," The grey Robloxian pulled away, shaking his head, giving you space to breathe, "I got plenty."

Yeah. Plenty of audacity. You thought to yourself as you lifted the cake from the tray into the to-go box.

"... Is this blood money?" You ask, your playful tone still carrying an inkling of worry. Robloxity at night seems to bring in the weirdos. Beautiful, benevolent weirdos. The best kind.

His smug grin cracked into a genuine smile, "Nope. I earned it. Fair n' square."

"... Through blood?" You asked slowly, handing him the cake.

"I swear!" He shook his head, taking the container. His smooth, stony fingers brush against yours. Although brief, you could've sworn you felt a spark.

"... You carry around a gun," You replied teasingly.

"Three actually," He suddenly stood tall, flexing his arms.

A smile crept onto your lips, then a loud, hearty laugh erupted from them, "Hahaha! God, you're corny."

He shrugged, "I prefer charming."

"That too," You reply, tucking the money he left on the counter into your pocket.

"Are you usually this..." You pause, almost embarrassed to ask such a needy question, "friendly with staff?"

"Only to the beautiful ones named Y/N," he teased, still lingering at the counter.

This beautiful weirdo... does he ever stop? You wonder, he was so persistent in trying to charm you, and it was working, it was almost inspirational.

"... we just met, stranger," You reminded him, leaning against the counter, "what's your deal?"

No sane being with good intentions would just throw around money like that...

"I'm Chance," He tipped his fedora. Holy shit. You wanted to throw a chair at him for that; he's lucky he's so beautiful...

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Chance," You crossed your arms. "Now answer the question."

"Hm... only if you let me take you out for drinks," He nodded towards the basement entrance, "C'mon. My treat."

You sigh, glancing at the clock, just a few more minutes until Susie comes in to take over.

You then look back at Chance, sighing, "I'll meet you down there in a bit. I have to finish up some things. Okay?"

"You got it, doll face!" He beamed, striding over to the stairway. He quickly turned to you, "Try not to miss me too much. Got it?"

"Received," You replied, causing him to finger gun you.

"Atta Y/N!" Chance praised before descending the stairs. He had this pep in his step as he skipped into the abyss.

It wasn't long until you clocked out. Susie took your place at the cash register, a slightly amused look on her face as she saw you quickly fix your hair in the mirror.

"What's got you all excited?" The brunette asked, lazily flipping through her magazine.

"Customer," You sigh dreamily, hanging your red apron on the rack before trudging down the black stairs.

"Good luck!" She called, flipping to the next page, "Tell me all about it later!"

Rolling your eyes, you descend into the basement, and as you do so, your eyes are drawn to the raging party below. The slow jazz from the first floor is now drowned out by the techno; the low lighting and flashy dance floor make you forget this was a cafe.

Remaining on the catwalk, your eyes scan the large complex below for Chance. The dance floor was flooded by various Robloxians dancing, but none of the patrons wore a sparkly fedora.

Tearing your eyes from the dancers, your gaze travels to the bar area. Various patrons sip from mugs of cocoa or coffee to power up their bodies for a night of dancing. The sugar and caffeine cause the customers to vibrate or flail around, some with a smooth rhythm and jagged, awkward movements. Sadly, Chance wasn't there either.

Then there it was, underneath the flashing, rotating lights: a sparkle.

Bingo.

His stupid hat was like a disco ball; the jagged gem-like material encrusted on the fedora reflected light. It'd look tacky on someone lesser.

Chance was sitting in a booth located in the corner beside the stage. He wasn't alone, speaking to another Robloxian. Playing cards on the table, with stacks of tix, robux, and studs all strewn around its surface.

Chance's buddy wasn't facing you. Unlike Chance's relaxed posture, he sat tall and stiff, poised in a regal manner. His hair fell down his blue fur collared jacket in a low ponytail; it was like spun gold. And that crown. It looked like spikes of ice.

Wow. Talk about iced out, jeez.

You couldn't hear the two, of course, you were across the room from the pair. You could only hear Chance's boisterous laughing.

Once reaching the floor, you maneuvered your way through the crowd. Muttering apologies and pardons for every time you were a few studs too close to another Robloxian.

The buffet was slightly better. Less movement, fewer people, but more awkward.

Especially when some jackass bumps into you, causing you to fly into the nearest person.

You nearly fell, but the stranger grabbed you in time, pulling you against him.

"####### #######," You hissed, glaring in the direction of the perpetrator, but they were long gone. You didn't even glance at the man who caught you.

"You alright, chickadee?" He asked, his hand now on your shoulder, giving you a pat

"Yeah," You sighed, finally turning to face the kind stranger, "Thanks for-- SHEDLETSKY?"

"The one and only," He grinned, raising his hands in surrender.

Wow. What an epic face.

"W-what brings you here?" You ask, suddenly standing up straighter than usual.

Oh my god. First, a rich and beautiful player swoons over you. Then, just a few moments ago, THE Shedletsky himself was holding you. Close, I might add.

"What? Can't a fella enjoy himself?" He asked, tilting his head, his chocolate curls framing his face perfectly.

"Oh! No," You emit a shaky chuckle, "You deserve it-- a break I mean."

"Thanks. You too," Shedletsky nodded, "You're the barista from upstairs, right?"

"Ah," Your face burning once again, "You recognize me?"

He leaned in a little, his voice slightly lower, "Like I could forget a face like that."

"When did you--"

"When you were flirting with that partner of yours," He teased.

"Not my partner," You corrected him suddenly, before shutting up immediately.

Did I sound too rude? I mean, I am just correcting him... But he's an Admin. What if he bans me for pissing him off?

His eyes lit up, leaning in even closer. His eyes were as black as tar and held the same ability to pull you in. Deeper and deeper.

"You're single," He remarked.

You nod wordlessly.

"I could--" Shedletsky began smoothly before being interrupted by a familiar face.

Notes:

Fun Fact: The blockhead and guy with the crown from early on in the chapter are two avatars from Shedletsky's "Online Social Hangout - Roblox" video on youtube. It's a cute watch.

Chapter 3: The Dance Floor

"Baby!" Chance suddenly slid in between the two of you, his hand on your waist, "I was waitin' for you."

Looking up at him, you didn't notice how Shedletsky's warm, comforting smile melted into a burning look of anger and annoyance, his ire aimed at the grey Robloxian. And Chance grinned in response, pulling you in as he grinned at the admin proudly.

"Ah, sorry, I was just distracted," You laughed nervously, your face flushed at the overwhelming amount of things happening in the moment. From the intimate stares and touching to the surprise clientele. Facing the almighty admin, you smiled at him, and he couldn't help but smile back.

"Thanks again for catching me, sir," You called out to him. Your voice drew him in like a siren. Yet Shedletsky refrained from making a scene. He already attracted stares from the crowd around them. It was unorthodox for a man of his caliber to be so... interested in a civilian.

Why do they look like they want to kill each other? You thought to yourself as you watched them glare at one another.

"Yeah. Thanks for watching Y/N while I was gone," Chance nuzzled himself closer, "Glad I got here before some creep got to them."

He pressed his cheek against the top of your head, his arms now fully wrapped around your body, yet his gaze focused on Shedletsky, "Right, Y/N?"

"R-right," You agree, pulling away slightly from his grasp.

There was a beat. No. Not from the funky dance music in the air, but an awkward pause between Shedletsky and Chance. The two Robloxians stared at each other as you practically served as the buffer between the two.

The metal of their holstered weapons glinted under the flashing lights. As Shedletsky reached for his hip, someone called for him.

"Shed! They refilled the buffet!" A hulking man wearing a bucket barked at him. Shedletsky's hand faltered and fell to the side, his look of annoyance reverted into that iconic smile he always had.

"Don't worry about it," The admin replied curtly, still focused on Chance, "Just... be careful, alright? There are shady people around here at night."

Shedletsky left without another word, retreating into the crowd.

You could hear his warm laugh from across the cafe.

"What's his problem?" Chance asked smugly, his arm still snaked around your body.

"... What's yours? You were all over me," You hissed, "We just met. You can't touch me like that."

He took a step back, hands in his pockets, "I'm sorry. I shoulda at least asked."

"It's fine, just quit being so... intense, okay?" You scolded him, and he nodded.

Clasping his hands together, he looked like he was in prayer, "I'll behave, baby. Swear on my life!"

Punching his arm, you laughed, "Quit being so dramatic. You're lucky Shedletsky didn't bite your head off. I don't know why, but he looked pissed off."

"Beats me. I didn't break any rules," He shrugged, "Besides, it's not like he'll do anything to me. I know people."

Know people? This shady bitch.

Pulling away from his grasp, you gasp, "I knew it. That WAS blood money."

"Hey!" The grey Robloxian instinctively reached for your warmth, "I'm an honest person."

"Okay. Then how did you get all that money, huh?" You ask as you cross your arms across your chest.

"Fine... you just ruined my mystique, baby, but anythin' to calm you down," He sighed, raising his hands in defeat, "... gamblin' n' my folks' casino."

Shedletsky was right.

"Hm..." You hummed.

"But, I swear, sweetstuff, I run things fairly," He pouted teasingly, "I'm a righteous Robloxian."

Although he held a jokey tone, something about his gaze made him seem like he was telling the truth.

You sighed, "Whatever you say, beautiful."

He beamed, "That's my line, Y/N."

"Mine now, Chance," You nudged him, finally making your way to his table. Although the crowds of people still obscured your path, you knew where the booth was. "Come on, introduce me to that friend of yours."

"Ah. Too late, baby," He shook his head. "He had to get going."

And he wasn't joking; the table was empty, and the blond prince was gone. Chance led you back to the booth, slowly and subtly, his fingers creeping their way back to your waist, where he remained firmly.

"Wished you coulda seen me earlier," He huffed, pulling away to let you sit down, "You would've seen me win.

"Aw, tough luck, Chance," You sighed dramatically, leaning against the table, cheek in hand, "How much did you score anyway?"

"Nothing much," He yawned, lazily lifting his arms to stretch, "Just a thousand robux. Give or take."

"... Wow"

"I know! I was gonna bet more, but ITrapped had somewhere to be," He sighed, leaning back into the booth chair, "I told him about you."

"What exactly?" You ask warily, you had just met after all.

"Warning him that if I met you, then that means my luck tonight is off the charts, and he should be careful," Chance chuckled, raising his hand to call over a server, "I think you scared him."

"Or maybe you scared him," You scoffed, "You were kicking his ass."

Your coworker approached the two of you. Boyd's eyes were wide when he saw you sitting across from Chance. Yet he didn't say a word when he took your orders.

"Hot cocoa, please," You asked the server politely.

He nodded, scribbling it down.

"Boyd, get me my usual," The smug Robloxian ordered, handing him a wad of tix, "And your finest for Y/N."

"Your usual?" You repeat, "I've never seen you here before."

"Baby, I visit every night I'm in Robloxity," He replied smoothly as Boyd retreated to the counter.

"You're not a local," You remark, considering his lavish appearance, that was a no-brainer, "Makes sense."

"Well I practically am," He huffed, his tone slightly offended as he crossed his arms, "I'm here all the time."

"Well, big shot, where are you from?" You asked, focusing on how his fedora glimmered in the low lighting.

"Roriver," He replied casually, "I live with my folks in their fancy manor. I also run the family casino."

"Geez, isn't that like... a day worth of driving?" You cringed.

"Ain't so bad," Chance shrugged, taking his drink from Boyd. It was hot cocoa with whipped cream and several marshmallows.

Rolling your eyes, you grab your mug and gently blow on your cocoa before sipping it, "You probably take a limo. Of course, you don't mind."

He shrugged, "Yeah. Besides, the city has it all. Beautiful strangers and the second best casino in all of Roblox— Roriver Casino is first of course."

"Ah. How humble," You chuckle, stirring the marshmallows into the dark drink, letting them dissolve and assimilate into the cocoa. "What's the lucky second?"

"Sonnellino's Slots. They got the best Italian food," He sighed dreamily, drooling slightly, "Their gelato? A dream. It makes the long journey worth it... I should take you sometime."

Is he really asking me out?

"We just met," You tilted your head, cocking your brow.

"And yet we get along so well," He purred, "We're meant to be, baby."

"I'm just a lovable individual," You shrugged, resting your hand against the wooden table. He quickly took it.

"You're right about that."

"I'm right about a lot of things," You huff, letting his warm fingers wrap around yours.

His hands are so soft...

"Whatever you say, beautiful," Chance winked.

"... Look whose stealing lines now..." You scoffed, lightly punching his arm.

"I can't help it," He whined, dramatically rubbing his arm.

"We're both beautiful," He lifted your hand to his lips, pausing for a brief second, staring at you. Although his shades obscured his eyes, you could see the desperation brimming underneath.

You nod.

Wordlessly, he kissed the top of your knuckles. It was a slow and soft peck.

"I'm free this Friday," You pulled your hand back onto your lap.

"So. It's a deal then?" He beamed.

"Yep. Friday. Meet me in front at seven."

"Let's celebrate!" He suddenly stood up, stretching his hand out to you, "C'mon, sweet stuff, show me what you got."

Taking his hand, you both step onto the flashing tiles of the dance floor.

Dragging you deeper into the crowd, Chance made way for the both of you. Not caring too much about the people crowding around either of you.

It was almost embarrassing how jarring his dancing skills were compared to yours. He moved with confidence, but that's to be expected of Chance; it ran through his veins, just like the rhythm.

Your movements were more janky as he spun you around.

"Wow, you suck," Chance mused as he watched you hit the most rigid 'ride the pony'.

"It's either this or the arm wave," You shake your head.

He scoffs, "Cmon' beautiful, I'll teach you."

He snapped his fingers, garnering the attention of the DJ. The blonde looked at him, then at you with a smirk. She nodded and transitioned the upbeat song into something slow and intimate.

Jazz.

Of course, they'd play that. He probably requests jazz every visit.

"We'll start off slow, y'know," Chance winked, gently taking your hand, yet remaining a respectable distance, "Cause' Telamon knows you need the practice."

"Psh, what would he know?" You laughed, taking a step closer to Chance, causing him to smile.

"Well, that you're the finest Robloxian here, sweet stuff," Chance winked, your hand in his as he held you in place, "First. You gotta follow my steps."

You nodded, looking down at your feet to follow his path. His leather loafers made your worn-out sneakers look like garbage. God, you probably looked like shit. Getting off of a full-time shift, and yet this strange person looked at you as if you weren't a hot mess.

It was easy to forget that Chance was wealthy; he was carefree, but maybe that's why he's so reckless. The stakes were low for him.

What did he know about struggle? Hard work? Hunger?

Yet the way he looked at you. You could see it. The hunger, the determination, the need. And maybe you liked that. Liked him.

Maybe.

When he stepped back, you stepped forward. And when he stepped forward, you stepped back. It was easy, yet you still stumbled and bumped into him for what seemed like forever.

"Oof, sorry," You muttered as you accidentally stomped on his expensive shoes for the fourth time.

"It's fine, this means that we'll need to go dancing together more often," He winked, he smiled through the brief bouts of pain.

"Maybe we should stop," You mumbled, still staring at your feet. Forward. Backward. Forward. Backward. Over and over again. Your palms felt sweaty in his.

People were probably watching you. Judging you for being so clumsy. Judging you for being unworthy of Chance's affections.

"Hey," He spoke softly, "Look at me."

You lifted your gaze to his.

"You're doing great, Y/N."

"You're just saying that," You sigh.

"So what if I am? Doin' is better than quittin'," He spoke earnestly.

"You're right, but--"

"No buts, you can only improve if you try."

"... Yeah. It's still scary, though." You smile weakly as you look into his eyes, your feet still following the pattern he set out for you. "Not just dancing. But... um everything in general."

"Baby, the best way to confront fear is head on, you can't let it stop you from winning big," He shook his head.

"Winning big?" You repeat, slightly amused by his terminology.

"Yeah! Winning big!" He suddenly spun you around again, this time pulling you in to dip you, "C'mon, take a chance with Chance, baby!"

"... You've been holding that in this entire time, huh?" You laughed, pressing your forehead against his, "And you say you're not corny. Liar."

"Like I said earlier, I prefer charmin'," He held you in that position, his fedora askew, revealing his now messy silver hair. Chance beamed at you, before pulling you back up, "You just gotta put on a poker face. And brave it. That's how you win."

"Win what exactly?" You ask, still holding onto him.

"Life," he then leaned in further, his breath hitting your neck, "And when you're a winner. You get a prize."

"Which is?" You ask, leaning into his touch.

"Bragging rights," Chance grinned, hugging you again, this time because you let him. Once again, his gaze was focused on a seething Shedletsky from across the room.

And the almighty admin stared back, his lips stretched into a forced grin as he half-heartedly nodded at his friends' ramblings.

"Man, the ban appeals have been taking me out," Doombringer laughed as he pulled up his holographic screen, "This one guy says some guy hacked him into scamming all those people. ####### idiot."

"They always say that," Clockwork shook his head, glancing at a surprisingly quiet Shedletsky, "Right, John?"

"I'll be back," Shedletsky spoke suddenly, his tone dark as his facade fell.

Doombringer and Clockwork glanced at each other knowingly.

"We'll be here," Doombringer replied, swiping the screen away into his inventory.

You slow danced with Chance as the music faded out.

Notes:

A/N: This came out fast cause this was originally a part of chapter 1. I wanted to split it in half to properly elaborate on certain scenes, but not make it too long to read. This upload is basically a fluke, and the future chapters aren't gonna be this early.

Basically next chapter will be out next week if we're lucky.

Random fact:
Boyd and the DJ are based on the two Iron Cafe Guest1337 skins (Boy and Girl).

Chapter 4: The Bathroom

It was too much.

The lights. The music. The people.

It was too intense.

Typically, Shedletsky loved that. He would revel in the crowded scene. Grabbing the gathering by the reins and being the life of the party. Doing party tricks with his linked sword, slicing fruit midair like it was nothing as he told jokes and bragged about his immense power and skill.

But not tonight. Not when the almighty admin himself had been so thoroughly embarrassed by that brat in front of you.

And the way you looked at them. The way you smiled at Chance and laughed at their jokes.

That was supposed to be him.

At least, that's what he planned.

But his rightful role was taken by chance, in more ways than one.

Shedletsky gritted his teeth as he forced his way through the crowd. His gaze focused on the bathroom.

"Hey! You can't just--" A guy yelled at Shedletsky as he shoved his way through the line. The admin didn't bother looking at him as he reached for the doorknob.

"Dude!" His friend grabbed his shoulder, dragging him away as they hissed, "That's an admin."

The Robloxian immediately shut up. They looked at one another in fear and backed off.

Shedletsky didn't acknowledge the two, or anyone else for that matter. There were too many people here. Too many witnesses. And to snap at some worthless civilian? He couldn't risk embarrassing himself further.
What would Builderman think?
But even more importantly, what would you think?

Was he some childish loser? A violent maniac? Him? THE Shedletsky?
No. No! He couldn't bear to tarnish his shining reputation, to push you further into the coniving arms of that bastard.

So he backed off.

Taking a step into the bathroom, he slammed the door shut and locked it.

It was a small space. All the essentials were there. A toilet in the corner, a sink in the other, and a pissed off man in the mirror.

Shedletsky glared at his reflection.

"Get it together, John," he muttered to himself, twisting the sink's valves. A stream of cool water burst from the pipe and fell into his cupped hands. Leaning over the sink, he rinsed his face. Rubbing the coolness into his skin. Rubbing and rubbing in circles until his face felt numb.

Shaking his head, he gripped onto the porcelain sink, his knuckles white.

"You are THE Shedletsky. You are a GOD compared to that playboy," He whispered to himself, water dripping from his handsome, enraged face.

"They would never choose that fool over you," He muttered, his breath ragged, "Y/N is smarter than that. Better than that."

He thought of the various times he saw you. Watched you during your daytime shifts for weeks.

You didn't recognize him, of course, he was smart enough to swap around his alts. EarlGrey. SirRogerPembleton. NoOneMcNoob. Among the various others, he couldn't care less to remember, for his mind was full of you.

He remembered the day he first met you. Two months ago. It was a slow day at Roblox HQ.

"Mr. Shedletsky, Clockwork wants you to check out the shades he's been working on," A mousy intern handed him a file.

He nodded mindlessly as he took the papers, "Thanks, Noel."

"I'm about to go on a coffee run, do you want anything?" They asked, lingering in the doorway of his office.

Shedletsky leaned back in his chair, about to shake his head, when a better idea popped into his head.

"Hey, kid. How about I do ya a favor and go for you?" He grinned.

"... I can't. It's my job and Dusekkar would--" They began, but Shedletsky lifted a finger.

"Aw c'mon," Shedletsky stood up, pulling up his holographic admin panel, "I'll go under a alt. No one will know."

"... It's my responsibility," Noel frowned, pulling out his notepad of orders, "But I can't deny a higher-up's orders... just don't tell anyone, okay?"

"I swear on my life, kid," He winked, tapping a button. Within a flash, he transformed into an old test account he created.

"Wow. Yeah, I can't recognize you," Noel spoke aloud, "Uh. Sorry."

"I know! It's perfect," He chuckled.

It wasn't a long walk from the headquarters to the Iron Cafe; the brick building was around the corner. Yet funnily enough, he had never been there before, too busy swordfighting or coding. But something inside of him told him to go out today. To be someone else today.

Pushing the glass door open, the bell chimed throughout the cafe, yet no one paid him any mind. And it felt nice, not to be gawked at or fawned over. It was nostalgic.

"Just like the old days," he thought fondly to himself as he waited in line, "Back when Telamon disappeared and the mysterious handsome Shedletsky emerged..."

He shuffled up the line slowly, taking in the scenery. There were paintings and photos on the wall. Perfectly calm for such a place.

"Next!" A worker called out.

It was you.

A normal, everyday Robloxian. A green apron tied around your body and a black visor with matching green accents resting on your head. You made it look good. Cute even.

"Hi! Welcome to the Iron Cafe! What can I get you?" You asked him with a big smile, it was as warm as the sunny weather outside.

"Thanks," He chuckled as he pulled out his notepad, not bothering to read it as he handed it to you, "It's a lot. I know."

You glanced at the neat writing, eyes widening at the official Roblox HQ logo printed at the bottom of the branded notebook.

"Ooooh! You must be the new intern," You gasped, swapping places with a coworker to begin preparing the large order.

"... Not new, just uh... visiting," Shedletsky replied hesitantly, watching you pour the steaming white mocha into the cup. You were pumping the pumpkin foam into the medium cup.

"Oof--" You shook your head, a cute smile on your lips, "I almost forgot. What name should I put this under, stranger?"

"... Uh, EarlGrey?" Shedletsky replied slowly, as if trying to remember his name. It was hard to keep track of all his identities. His alternative vessels were in the dozens. Why? Cause he felt like it. A god loves to walk amongst men every now and then. His yellow fingers tapped on the wooden counter.

"Okay..." You bit your lip as you scribbled down his pseudonym on the order slip, "EarlGray."

"Close enough," He shrugged, watching you closely as you snapped the plastic lid in place. Then watched as you moved on to the five other orders on the long list.

The orders were unimportant; he couldn't even remember what he wanted. But he recalled how the light from outside hit you, enhancing the shine of your hair and the warmth of your skin. It was all cinematic.

"So... how is it?" You asked him as you poured black coffee into another cup.

"Delicious," He replied, staring at you with a grin, his gaze taking you in a second time.

"Not the coffee," You chuckled, "I mean working at Roblox."

Your obliviousness made him laugh, causing you to look up from the cup.

"What's so funny?" You ask, tilting your head.

You.

But Shedletsky couldn't say that aloud.

"Ah, nothing," He shook his head, waving his hand, "But yeah, the HQ is a great place, we get free meals. The admins are strict, but they're cool."

"Who's the coolest?" You ask half-jokingly.

Suddenly, another idea popped into his head.

"... Shedletsky," He grinned, "He's a total badass."

"Really?" You raise an eyebrow, an amused look on your face, "Doesn't he hate whales? That's kinda messed up."

"Okay, what if they deserved it, though?" He replied in a jokingly defensive manner.

You put down the cup and looked at him, laughing as you asked, "The hell did whales do to you, man?"

"Nothing," He shrugged, taking out his wallet, "Maybe Shedletsky found their activists annoying."

"They're still endangered," You looked at him funny as you handed him the two cardboard drink carriers that held his orders.

"And they're still annoying," He huffed, "All I'm saying is that Shedletsky knows what he's doing."

"Sure, Earl." You reply teasingly. The way you scrutinized him with that formidable look in your eye made him shudder, "That'll be twenty-four robux, please."

He couldn't help but frown in the moment. Just when things were about to get good, you were pulling away.

He pulled out his wallet, making sure to hide its contents from you before he pulled out the exact amount needed.

"Thank you, come again." You nodded, not even looking at him as you turned to serve the next customer.

Sure, it was a basic customer service response.

But he listened.

And came back.

Over.

And over.

Again and again for weeks and weeks on end.

It was ingrained in his daily routine. To see you, to hear you, to watch you. And even if you didn't recognize the real him, the powerful beloved man that he was. He was content with that; in fact, he was hoping you'd latch onto one of his various personas.

He couldn't stop with EarlGrey, he had to know more about you. Needed to.

NoOneMcNoob was his disguise when you went out grocery shopping. SirRogerPembleton was the strange man you'd chat with at the park. Each time he'd slip in something about his true self, a compliment towards Shedletsky, preaching his own greatness. And his other alts were used to space out visits. He couldn't have you thinking he was an insane stalker.

He was just interested. That was all.

Think of him as a birdwatcher. And you? You're his chickadee.

What's the harm in getting to know someone before shooting his shot?

First impressions are everything. And to learn more about you would ensure Shedletsky's success, while also satisfying that all-consuming need to know you. At least that's what he thought.

You were polite to NoOneMcNoob. Tolerated SirRogerPembleton. And bantered with EarlGrey. Yet never played into his advances. Not like how you did with... Chance.

That spoiled, irresponsible, gambling bastard.

The one that didn't understand you, not like how Shedletsky does.

Gritting his teeth, he looked into the mirror.

The party outside is still raging, like the hatred within.

And hatred wasn't befitting of a perfect being such as himself.

Nor was hatred worthy of your attention.

Staring at the mirror once more, he pulled out a strange object from his inventory. A small, dark crimson egg-shaped charm.

He thought of you dancing with Chance. Laughing at their jokes. Kissing them. Loving them.

And his face melted into that ugly, enraged sneer from earlier as he grasped the stone with such force one would think it'd crack from the pressure.

Yet it didn't.

Instead, a bright burning red flashed from the egg, Shedletshy's fingers doing nothing to shield its glare. And yet he stared directly into the light, his face now blank as black flames emerged from his long shadow on the tiled floor.

It was time to be cleansed.

"Hey, man! Hurry up!" A voice called from outside the door, the bacon banged on the door, "We've been here for like ten minutes!1!!!"

In response, a bright lime green light flashed from the bathroom. Although locked shut, the saturated, blinding light seeps from its threshold.

"What the--" the bacon muttered, frozen in place as the light dimmed down into nothing.

The door slammed open, the admin facing the bacon boy with a big, epic smile.

"Sorry! Had some stomach issues, haha," Shedletsky lied, holding the door open for the Robloxian.

The yellow admin sighed as he retreated back to Clockwork and Doombringer. His eyes scanned the dance floor for you, yet you were gone. A twinge of annoyance hit him, but the negative emotion was drowned out by the numbness he felt in the moment.

The cleansing worked.

And besides, if you were gone, that meant you had probably gone home. To that small apartment you lived in, the one by the park. And he could always visit to check on you when you were asleep, of course.

Wouldn't be his first time.

"Hey guys!" Shedletsky beamed at the two men.

"Ah! John!" Doombringer's voice echoed throughout the cafe, smacking his back, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, you good?" Clockwork asked, "You looked like you were... in pain earlier."

Shedletsky shrugged, "Never been better."

"Alright," Clockwork shrugged, "Should we get going? It's nearly midnight."

"Hm..." He paused, glancing at the bar area, an idea sparking into his head, "Hey, Clockwork. Remember the upcoming admin party?"

"Yeah?" The robotic Robloxian replied, sipping his iced tea.

"How about we do it here?" Shedletsky suggested, grinning at the thought of introducing you to the others.

Especially Builderman.

"Sure," Doombringer shrugged, "We could actually let loose here. Right, Alex?"

"Hm... It would be funny to see Dusekkar dancing again..." Clockwork muttered, "I'll set up the details tomorrow."

"I can do it," Shedletsky replied instantly. It wasn't a question, more of a demand.

"You sure? It's a lot of work," Clockwork asked, frowning slightly.

Anything for Y/N.

"I insist. You deserve a rest, Alex," He nudged the light blue Robloxian. "Now let's bounce. I got something to do."

The three left the cafe.

Shedletsky ignored the burning sensation in his pocket, the egg charm still potent with his rage.

Notes:

A/N: I know I said I'd write this next week. But the love has been overwhelming. So here is a treat. I don't really like it, but I really wanted to establish some important plot points before romancing. Sorry if you thought they'd be fighting. Not yet.

Yes, these are real accounts Shedletsky owns.

Chapter 5: The Apartment

The limo ride home felt unreal; you had never felt so comfortable in a car before. And with the way Chance looked at you, they could tell. The grey Robloxian yawned, slowly stretching their hand behind your back. But before they could make first contact, you leaned into their arms.

"You're not as slick as you think, Chance," You lay against their shoulder, looking up at them. And they looked back, smiling, their cheeks slightly pinkish grey.

"Are you blushing?" You gasp, leaning in further.

The low lights of the limoscene couldn't hide the effect you had on them.

"No," They drew out the response, looking away, a giant grin on their stupid face, "... Maybe."

This playful evasion only motivated you to raise your hand to their cheek, your fingers caressing Chance's jawline as they slowly turned to face you.

"You wouldn't lie to me, right?" You ask, your hand falling to their tie, tugging it a little, as if it were a leash.

"Lie to you?" Chance grinned, their face burning hotter, "Never."

Chance's hands rose from their lap and traveled to your hips, pulling you in. They traced the shape of your body.

Now it was your turn to be a blushing mess.

"Are you blushin', Y/N?" Chance whispered, their lips ghosting yours.

"... No..." You shook your head, pulling away slightly, your smirk similar to Chance's.

It was now your turn to look away and play coy.

"Aw, c'mon baby," Chance laughed, their hands resting on your waist as you stared out the window.

"Hm... nah," You snickered.

"What happened to the flustered dork from earlier tonight?" Chance tilted their head, much like a dog. You wanted to pet them.

Chance had an amused smile on their lips, "Don't get me wrong. I love the confidence. Makes things more interesting."

"Being around you... It boosts my confidence," You sighed, looking back at them, "Like you bring me out of hiding."

They rested their arm on your shoulder, "Really?"

You nod, it felt corny for you to admit, but seeing such confidence in combination with such a friendly demeanor made you feel drawn to Chance. Safe even. As if you could. But you couldn't confess that out loud, not when you both had just met.

"... besides, a very charming Robloxian once told me that bravery is the key to winning big," You winked.

Chance smiled, but instead of the smug, self-satisfied grin you were used to, it was a genuine look of joy.

"Can I be the prize?" They asked teasingly, laying their head on top of yours.

"Sure," You laughed, "I gotta take that chance. Haha... Get it?"

"Name puns are my thing, baby." They rolled their eyes.

You elbowed them in response, and they keeled over dramatically, "Ouch... I think you broke a bone..."

"I'll break another," You lightly punch their arm.

"Please," Chance replied dreamily, clasping their hands together.

"You're into that?" You ask, narrowing your eyes as your smile widened.

"Depends," Sliding their shades down their nose to flash those scary bright blue eyes of theirs.

A smirk on their lips, "Are you?"

"Like I could hurt a pretty face like that," You pinch their cheek.

"As per usual, you're so right..." Chance sighed, leaning into your touch, even if it was a little painful; it felt worth it to endure.

As long as you were touching them, they would be in heaven.

Then you pulled your hand away.

"The more you talk, the more I like you." Your hands fall to their neck, your fingers delicately straightening their tie. Chance smiled widely, staring at you as if they were trying to engrave this moment in their mind.

"You know..." they trailed off, "I've been told I'm a motormouth."

"I'm sure you have," You reply with a playful tone, your hands now resting on their lapels.

"Wanna take it for a spin?" Chance purred, their hot breath hitting your neck.

Your eyes widened at the offer. It took a lot within you to accept their affections earlier. To acknowledge that maybe, just maybe, you deserved a little fun. To be pursued. To be wanted.

But this? You almost had no idea what to say.

Almost.

Slowly lifting your head, as if hesitant to even acknowledge such forwardness, you face Chance.

Parting your lips to speak, but suddenly the car stopped.

"Ahem... Mx. Chance, we're here," The chauffeur spoke up politely. Although the limo was dark, you could see the red on her cheeks from the rearview mirror.

Fuck.

Pulling back, you maintained a respectable distance from Chance, staring out the window, "Looks like this is goodbye. For now."

They retreated as well, a frown on their soft lips, "Not so fast, Y/N."

Before you could even unbuckle, Chance was already out of the limo. Leaning back through the open car door with their left hand stretched out to you, they stared at you with a slight smile.

“Let me walk you in,” they practically pleaded. The street light above shone down on them in an angelic way.

“Thank you,” you smiled, taking their hand, they gently pulled you out of the car, as if you would shatter if held any tighter.

Once your feet made contact with the pavement, Chance spun you around with one hand, as if you were both back in Iron Cafe’s basement. But instead of slow dancing to romantic jazz, it was to the purring of the engine and crickets in the night.

“H-hey?!” You sputtered as you flew back into their arms after the sudden move.

“Hey yourself,” Chance hummed, shutting the door with their free hand, their other hand resting on the small of your back, "Sorry, sweetstuff, can't help it. You're fun to mess with."

"Whatever," you laughed, leaning on their shoulder; the cold night air enveloped the two of you.

Both of you stood outside the concrete building, as if hesitant to part.

The grey Robloxian took in the sight of your residence; their clockwork shades may have hidden their eyes, and their expression neutral, but you could tell they were slightly judging the building. The cracks and peeling paint drew attention to how broke you were.

"What?" You huffed, looking up at them.

"Damn #####, you live like this?" Chance asked.

"Sorry, I don't live in a mansion, nepo baby," You nudge them.

"Aw, did you just call me baby?" Chance batted their lashes at you.

"You're delusional," You laugh.

"Can't help it... I can't think straight when I'm with you, baby," They sighed, nuzzling into your scalp. Their nose pressed against your soft hair before taking a deep breath.

"... Are you smelling me?"

There was a pause.

"No. Ever heard of breathing?" They remark coolly, pulling away slightly, "And you call me the delusional one."

You punch their arm, "You're lucky you're good looking."

"I'm lucky in general," Chance winked, leading you into the apartment lobby. They opened the glass door for you, tipping their fedora, "After you."

"You don't have to follow me inside, you know," You remark as you step through the entrance. The lobby was just as rundown as the outside. There wasn't much going on, just an over-watered potted plant in the corner, and the residents' mailboxes packed together tightly embedded in the wall.

"I know," They shrug, their eyes focused on you as you stroll over to the elevator.

There was a brief moment of silence as you pulled out your keycard to unlock the elevator.

"Is that vanilla shampoo by the way?" They asked suddenly.

If Chance weren't so hot, you would've run away by now.

Pretty privilege at its finest...

Literally.

They were pretty fine.

"So you WERE smelling me," You scoffed as you swiped your card. Pressing the elevator button. Your eyes focused on the tiny digital screen above. The display blinked every few seconds, signaling its descent.

"So is that a yes?" They asked, following you into the elevator. It was a cramped space. There was barely room for two as you both stood side by side. It was your average elevator.

The Normal Elevator, if you will.

You nodded.

"You're a freak," You stated.

Chance looked at you, beaming with pride as they leaned in to tease you, their voice low and sensual, "And you love it."

You flicked their hat off their head.

"Hey!" They yelped, scrambling to nab their fedora before it hit the floor, "That's worth more than this entire building."

"Chance, my right shoe is probably worth more than this dump," You sigh.

They laughed. And so did you.

The cold, dead atmosphere of the elevator felt warm for once.

It wasn't long until the two of you reached your apartment on the third floor. Chance faced the faded wallpaper of the hallway, but underneath their dark, mysterious shades, their eyes focused on you. They watched your fingers closely as you typed in the four-digit passcode to your apartment.

2-0-0-4.

"Silly, Y/N," Chance thought to themself, "You make it so easy."

Don't you know better than to let a practical stranger follow you home?

To let them hold you? To let them love you?

Yet you turned to Chance and smiled. That same dazzling smile when they spun you around on the dance floor.

No.

No, you didn't know any better.

And that worked perfectly for them.

"I had a fun time. Strange, but really fun," You began, playing with your hair, "Really strange... Please do not smell me again."

"Okay, vanilla," Chance leaned against the wall.

"Okay, cherry," You blurted out.

"Oh my god," They laughed, "So you smelled me and I'm the weird one?"

"I-I couldn't help it. Your cologne is too strong," You sputter, face hot, "And at least I was subtle about it. You were just loudly sniffing my head."

"Haha. Yeah," Chance chuckled, "I wanted to see how'd ya react."

"You're so freaky," You huffed, entering your apartment, turning to face them one last time, "Good night, Chance. See you Friday."

"Farewell, sweetstuff," They blew you a kiss and made their way down the hall, humming a tune.

Shutting the door, you sighed.

Slipping off your sneakers, you made your way to the bathroom.

It was strange. All this attention on you. A nobody who had nothing and nobody.

Pulling your uniform and undergarments off, you entered the shower and scrubbed yourself clean. Your mind was full of jumbled, confused thoughts as you rinsed the suds out of your hair. The water hits your back as you wonder why Chance wanted you so badly.

And if you even wanted them in such a way. Sure, they were beautiful and rich. And most importantly, liked you.

You twisted the valve, turning off the water. Then quickly dry yourself before changing into your pyjamas.

Entering your bedroom, you glanced at the clock.

"Ugh..." You groaned at the time, the fatigue you've been ignoring suddenly hit you like a ton of bricks, "Two ####### thirty?"

Lying on your bed, you sighed, "Stupid Chance... Stupid beautiful Chance ruining my sleep schedule."

"Oh Telamon..." You lay on your side, cuddling a pillow as your tired eyes gazed into the darkness of your room. Perhaps it was the sleep deprivation, but you could've sworn it stared back.

"What am I to do?" You muttered, shutting your eyes for the final time that night. Sleep ate away at your consciousness as you slipped into a long slumber.

You dreamt of noobs and hamburgers. Guests and flowers. And other silly abstract ideas that spoke a lot about your inner self, you'd much rather not go over. But the dream that stuck with you the most was your final one.

You were in bed.

Alone.

But it didn't feel like it.

You felt arms and legs wrapped around you, a face pressed firmly against your neck. Although the bedroom was dark, the window was wide open and the moonlight shone through. And yet no one was there.

The being held you close, petting your hair as it muttered to itself. Your head was too fuzzy and tired to comprehend what it was talking about.

"What are you?" You tried to ask, but your lips were sealed shut.

What the hell?

You tried to scream. But nothing came out, only your soft breathing.

The stranger only hugged you tighter.

You tried to squirm and thrash, but you couldn't move either. So you lay limp in its arms, as if you were its doll.

"This has to be lucid dreaming," You thought to yourself as it nuzzled your cheek, "A bizarre dream."

And so, you decided to let it happen. It wasn't real. Even if its hot breath felt like your very own, or its needy touchings felt off, it didn't matter.

Nothing did.

"You mustn't be swayed so easily by false charm," A voice echoed throughout your room. It sounded familiar, yet different, "To take a Chance would be foolish."

You couldn't respond.

"And you're no fool," It whispered fondly, kissing your cheek, "You're witty. Pretty. Perfect. And equal to me. Only me."

When will this dream end? I want the noob hamburger dream again.

The figure shifted slightly in bed, not noticing the red charm fall from its pocket onto your carpet. You didn't notice either, too busy trying to fall back asleep.

You ignored its obsessive muttering as you shut your eyes again.

The final words confused you.

";TP me Builderman."

The next day, you woke up alone in your room.

"... No more hot cocoa before bed," You grumbled.

Notes:

A/N: I won't update until a week for sure. might rewrite this later idk.

I'm gonna include some cool facts but I passed out before writing them down.

- I was gonna make the passcode to Y/N's room be 1337 as a reference to the Gavin's secret storyline in the normal elevator, but that's literally Guest's name, and I didn't want to steal his thunder.
- 2004 is when Roblox was first established (irl).

FREAKletsky getting ready to visit Y/N: ";char me 13645. ;Invisible me. ;walkspeed [Y/N's full user] 0. ;tp me [Y/N's full user]. ;KILL CHANCE."
- To clarify, he didn't actually kill Chance.

Chapter 6: The Park

Shedletsky hunched over his computer as he typed away, his expression blank as he focused on the task at hand. His reading glasses reflected the bright screen. Only ceasing once he heard two polite knocks on his door.

"Come in," he called, spinning his chair towards the door.

"Good afternoon, John!" A blonde woman entered, her purple star-shaped head boppers bounced at every step. ReeseMcBlox held a small stack of files in her peach-colored hands.

"Ah," He smiled at the sight of his fellow admin, slipping off his reading glasses, "Reese, did you receive my budgeting spreadsheet for the party?"

She nodded, her boppers shook in agreement.

"Yup! Matt says it's perfectly sound." She smiled, lingering in the doorway of his personal office, or his nest as Shedletsky would call it. 

"All you gotta do is finalize the catering menu," She spoke, entering his office, "David said--" her report was interrupted mid-step by the loud squeak of a rubber chicken from under her sneaker.

"Whoops," Shedletsky snickered, "Sorry, I gotta get this place organized sometime."

His nest was a mess of knick-knacks and swords he acquired over the years. His mahogany shelves, meant to carry novels or sacred relics, instead housed his countless chicken-eating contest awards and joke books. Across his desk was a large glass display case that reached from the floor to the ceiling, full to the brim of various egg accessories from Egg Hunts over the years.

Some of which came from Telamon himself.

The lighthearted decor clashed with the seven colorful swords that hung mounted behind him on the tall beige walls. All of which aligned in a circle, directly behind his chair. And when Shedletsky sat up, it resembled a halo.

"It's fine, B and I hashed it out last night, McBlox," he leaned back in his leather chair, kicking his feet onto his desk, his ugly crocs and gaudier gimmick socks on display. Yes. They were chicken feet.

"So soon?" She asked, picking up the rubber chicken and placing it back on the shelf, right beside a framed photo of Shedletsky and Builderman. Their arms on each other's broad shoulders as the CEO smiled, and the yellow admin stuck his tongue out at the camera.

Grown forty-two-year-old man, by the way.

"Easy work," he shrugged, his smile wide as he took the paperwork from her hands, "This is nothing compared to the egg hunts."

"Yeah, we knew you'd make light work of planning. It's just... the staff is surprised. That's all," Reese chuckled nervously, before hesitantly speaking up, "You usually don't care about this stuff."

Shedletsky's eyes narrowed, his smile still there, but something was off. His posture stiffened as his gaze focused on his peer, "What do you mean?"

Reese sighed, hands on her hips. Her tone wasn't hostile; just genuinely confused, "Come on, John. An admin party? That's intern work."

He smiled wider, "I'm just feeling generous. You know how I am, McBlox."

"You literally made Noel and Clockwork do all the work at the last party," She replied blankly.

"I've gotten an ephiphany," He replied vaguely, his eyes focusing on the large wall of windows to his left. The sky was a dull grey, the same repulsive shade that Chance you were so fond of was. And just like the weather, that bastard ruined his day.

"To get what I want, I need to do more," He spoke, his tone devoid of warmth, much like the weather outside.

She nodded, but he could tell by her expression that she didn't get it. That she wanted to ask exactly what he wanted. But she refrained, preferring to follow his gaze outside.

None of them did. Shedletsky couldn't fault them for that. No one understood him like you could.

No one.

He just had to have you.

"Whatever's on your mind... You need to think it through," the blonde then looked at him. Her tone soft and earnest, "We're all here for you-- not just the Admins. Noel, the rest of the interns. Everyone."

Shedletsky nodded, his expression softening, "Thanks, Reese."

"You should go on a break," Reese told him as she left his office, "You've been at it all day."

She shut the door, leaving Shedletsky alone in his office. Within seconds, he shut off his computer.

Standing up, he spoke aloud, his gaze focused on his handsome reflection, ";char me 52225276."

 

---

 

Four more days.

That was how long you had until your date with Chance.

Was it a date?

The question lingered in your head as you walked through the park. The sky was cloudy and grey, a very familiar shade to a Robloxian you know and somewhat love. You weren't too sure how you felt about Chance.

The smooth-talking stranger you had just met, yet somehow, they had wormed their way under your skin, through your veins, and straight to your heart.

And it scared you.

They scared you.

You knew they'd never hurt you-- at least on purpose.

Chance's cool, dreamy, icy blue eyes strangely made you feel warm. Maybe that's why they wore glasses, to protect innocent Robloxians like you from their Medusa-like gaze. But unlike the misunderstood gorgon, Chance could render you into a statue with a few pretty words and the right moves.

And that's the horrifying part.

This vulnerability. To be at the mercy of another. To show each bit wrong with you to another and pray to Telamon that they'd stay.

But like most of your prayers, Telamon left them unanswered. He preferred to watch, of course, like a hunter and its prey.

You felt your stomach churn as you passed by a couple holding hands at the park. The two girls sitting beside one another on a wooden bench, whispering sweet nothings to one another. Cute.

Why am I so weird? You asked yourself internally as you kicked a stone down the pavement, the smooth grey rock tumbled at each step. Chance likes me. Me. Out of all Robloxians.

Your brooding ceased once you reached the duck pond, a shoddy wooden fence blocking off the water from oblivious pedestrians, pill babies, and pets alike. Leaning against the railing, you felt it creak under your weight. Which wasn't saying much; it made the same desperate groan when a pigeon landed on its post. The bird cocked its head at the sight of you.

"Hello, little guy, one moment please," You politely told the bird, stuffing your hand in your coat's pocket, its lining soft and fuzzy. Pulling out a plastic bag of rolled oats, peeling the plastic baggie open, you heard the hungry quacks of the ducks below.

Mallard ducks swarmed the water below you. They appeared out of nowhere; they emerged from the other side of the pond within seconds. A fire in their eyes and a roaring in their stomachs as you sprinkled a small amount of oats on the pavement to feed the lone pigeon. The quacking got louder and more demanding.

"Calm down," You huffed as you tossed a handful of oats at the ravenous crowd.

"Funny seeing you here," A familiar voice called from behind.

"Hey, SirRoger," You nodded, not bothering to look at the pale man. He's been a nuisance to you since December of last year. Bothering you when you were trying to enjoy alone time before work. He wasn't alone either. Ever since two months ago, you've faced an influx of strangers trying to claw their way into your life. Yet most have failed.

SirRogerPembleton stood beside you, silent as he watched you intently.

"... Do you mind?" You asked him, your tone sharp and gaze even more cutting. He smiled stupidly in response.

"Nope," He shook his head, still looking at you with those wide black eyes. Something about them felt familiar. And you shuddered.

You ignored him as you focused on the various ducks below. They fought over the oats, their beaks poking each other as they ducked and dove in for a morsel.

"How's my favorite chickadee?" He asked, leaning on the railing as well. His elbow grazed yours.

You grimace.

"That bad, huh?" He asked.

"Yeah," You replied curtly, pulling away a little, still focused on the mallard mob below you. The largest duck kept swooping in first, leaving the rest starving.

"Anyone bothering you?" He asked, his voice suddenly serious. Eyes wide with this unreadable look in his gaze, "Anyone at all?"

"Yeah," You reply, turning away from him as you toss a fistful of oats in the water where the runts were, "You."

"Y/N, I mean it," He spoke with such conviction, as if he knew you.

"Roger. I don't ####### know you," You spoke suddenly.

His right eye twitched for a millisecond.

"Ah. Yeah," Roger replied calmly, looking at the water, staring at his white reflection in the water, the constant moving of the ducks clamoring for your attention morphed his form, "You don't."

"But you've known me for a while," He spoke up suddenly, "Two months. That's longer than a day. Longer than-- Never mind."

"What are you talking about?" You asked, snapping the plastic baggie shut.

He looked like he was restraining something, his jaw firmly shut, leaving the two of you to bask in silence for once. That was rare with him.

God, I need to get out of the city. Too many weirdos here.

He slipped his left hand in his jeans pocket, reaching for something, for comfort. Then he searched his right pocket, then his rear pockets. Nothing. Suddenly, that once-strained expression came loose, and his expression was one of pure horror and rage.

"I need to go," He spoke suddenly, bowing his head slightly to the right, as if to hide his face. For a split second, you could've sworn his right eye flashed a bright red.

You watched as SirRogerPembleton walked away, his posture tense and fists balled up: as if he'd strike if one more bad thing were to happen to him.

"Whatever," You sighed, shoving your hands back into your fuzzy pockets as you made your way to the Iron Cafe. Your shift is about to start soon anyway. And you had bigger things to worry about than some semi-parasocial stranger's temper tantrum.

It wasn't a long walk to work, as per usual. You enjoyed the alone time. Listening to music as you watch Robloxians briskly make their way around Robloxity. It was calming in a way. Much like the ducks at the pond, we're all trying to get our share. And some loved to take and take until there was nothing left.

Entering the Iron Cafe, your boss greeted you, IronInforcer himself. He smiled at you.

"Y/N! Great news!" He boomed, patting you on the back as he led you into the bustling dining area.

"I'm getting a raise?" You asked semi-jokingly, and his smile faltered.

He shook his head, his tone as cheery as ever, "Even better! We're hosting a huge party tomorrow night."

"... Tomorrow? That's so last-minute," You scratched your head.

Only a madman would plan such a huge event a day prior.

"I know, it's... unorthodox," Inforcer began, adjusting his shades, "But it's not every day Shedletsky himself calls in begging us to host an official Roblox event."

Oh. That explains it.

"That's great, boss," You smile.

"That's not even the best part," He continued, following you to the counter, where you hung your coat and slipped on your apron. "He wants you to be the barista."

You paused as you were in the middle of tying your straps in a bow, "Me? Why?"

"Who cares? What matters is that we make our customers happy," he spoke firmly, "And I'm sure you can handle it. There'll be about twenty people total. And another place is coming in to help cater some pizza and wings."

Pizza? You thought to yourself. That doesn't sound befitting of an exclusive admin event.

But then again, this is Shedletsky. Very last minute and thrown together with somewhat care, but only if it was about you.

His little chickadee. But you didn't know that. You didn't need to.

Not yet.

That was for tomorrow night.

"Is it just gonna be me?" You asked worriedly, typically, one other employee handled the top floor while the other served the basement.

He nodded, "We're just gonna lock up the top and have the real party downstairs. Easier that way. Before the party starts you gotta pick up the pizza, the delivery boy will drop it off around 7. Got it?"

"Received," You nodded, quickly washing your hands.

"Great!" Inforcer smiled, waltzing away from the counter, "Good luck, kid! And remember, you represent the brand!"

You nod, finally clocking in. Swapping places with your peer, Catty, who followed suit.

"After you," Inforcer spoke, holding the door open for the ginger.

"Thanks, boss," She hummed, leaving swiftly.

"No problem," He nodded, still pushing it open when he noticed another figure approach. He smiled as he lifted his free hand to wave, "Ah! If it isn't my main man!"

"Ah, Mister Inforcer," A deep gruff voice spoke. He nodded at your boss, a quiet thank you of sorts. You've never heard a voice quite like it. He had an accent to it, a tilt to his tone. And that strangeness made you look up from the cash register to face him.

He was tall, yellow, and handsome, not in the way Shedletsky is, but in a mysterious way. The stranger wore a black pinstripe fedora, angled in such a way that it obscured his eyes, yet he moved with such grace and purpose that it didn't seem like it. He reminded you of Chance in a way, sophisticated hat and hidden eyes. So alike, yet vastly different.

The yellow stranger approached you, his expression guarded as he hovered over you.

"One strong espresso," He spoke up, "And four hot coffees."

You nodded, "Alright. Here or to go?"

"Here," He replied, adjusting his trenchcoat slightly, now that he was closer, you noticed the straps on his shoulder, he was carrying something.

The stern stranger turned slightly to fetch his wallet, and you gasped when you saw what exactly he was carrying. A fluffy white bunny in a baby carrier. And she looked back at you, tilting her head as if asking who you were.

"Oh my god," You smiled, dropping your notepad on the counter and leaning into his space, your eyes wide with excitement at the adorable sight, "What's their name?"

"Her name is Gubby," He looked down at you, or you assumed he was looking at you, you couldn't tell. With a slight sneer on his lips, he asked, "Now, can ya get up please?"

"My bad," you muttered, "She's just really cute."

"I know," He replied.

There was an awkward pause, and he nodded towards his watch.

"Y-your total will be twenty-five robux," you stammer.

"Thanks, toots, He grumbled, not sounding exactly thrilled to be dealing with you, a scatterbrain.

"Wait. Um, what name is this under?" You asked.

"Don Sonnellino," He replied coolly, not bothering to look at you as he sat himself at a booth in the corner. He sat alone.

Sonnellino.

Now, where have I heard that before?

Notes:

A/N: Hey guys!! I love reading the comments; your kind words genuinely motivate me to continue and try to improve my writing!

Fun Facts:
Birds love plain oats.
I was gonna include a section where "Roger" takes your bag of oats and eats it raw, I like to think Shedletsky has weird eating habits akin to a bird. But that felt too jarring for the moment.
The character IDs I use are real and link to actual Roblox accounts.

Chapter 7: The Bunny

Don Sonnelinno was a troubled man.

A man who, with a snap of his fingers, could do the same to your neck within seconds without remorse or thought.

A name that made the most righteous cops look the other way and sent the shadiest sleazebags on the streets running. A name synonymous with knocked-out teeth and missing persons.

Don. Mafioso. Either name didn't matter.

Either way, one would be the name they'd plead to as his men beat his victims into a swollen, unrecognizable stain on the ground, all with a smile on his face as he stomped on their neck for good measure.

A man who's now sitting a few feet away from you, his dark gaze fixed on the blackboard menu behind your head. Although hidden by the brim of his pin-striped hat, you could feel him staring. His gaze is as sharp as the blade he had concealed in his trenchcoat. And both were equally as threatening.

The the cafe's silence didn't help the uncomfortable atmosphere gnawing at your psyche. Once again, the first floor of the cafe was empty. The vacant vinyl booths, cushioned chairs, and wooden tables only exemplified the dark presence of the mysterious yellow man who sat a few feet away from you.

Last shift, you felt bored, itching for anything to distract you from the mundanity of working. You let a stranger whisk you away into a life you never thought you'd have. One full of yearning. Of want and being wanted. To come out of your shell for once and be someone worthy of such attention.

And with such an act, the quiet cafe was your stage to the romcom that was now your life.

Yet, tonight, the genre shifted. The low, intimate lighting that once felt like a cozy, warm blanket now felt seedy and strange.

Why the hell is it so dark in here? You cringed to yourself as you poured the ground espresso beans into the machine. Don looked more menacing in the dark, for a man so large, he could hide surprisingly well in the shadows. The gloom clung to him like a second skin. Yet you could still feel his cold glare through the warm, dim lighting.

"Hey," his gruff voice called from the booth, "You."

"Me?" You ask, raising your gaze from the espresso machine to his gaze.

"Who the hell else could I be referring to, moron?" He sneered, tapping the table impatiently.

"Uh... Gubby?" You glanced at the white ball of fluff resting on a pillow. Don must've snatched it from the sofa by the fireplace.

The bunny perked up at the mention of her name. Her nose twitched and eyes narrowed at the sight of you.

Like father, like daughter.

"... Just move aside," he scoffed, waving his gloved hand, "Your big head is blockin' the menu, toots."

My head isn't that big. You thought to yourself with a frown as you scuffled nervously to the side, focusing on the red Christmas mug before you. 'Twas not the season to be jolly.

"D-do you want the other four coffees now or?" You trailed off, nodding towards the empty seating at his booth.

"Now. My men will be here soon," he replied smoothly, petting Gubby's pristine coat. His expression softened as he played with her fur.

"You got it, Don," you forced a smile, pressing the button on the coffee maker.

"One more thing, sweetheart," He began, "Play some damn music. What are ya? Some kinda maniac? You like the sound of silence?"

"N-no. I just got distracted," you mutter.

You fumbled to switch on the radio, nearly spilling the bag of espresso beans on the counter. The radio defaulted to that one jazz station you were required to play; any other genre would've annoyed Inforcer.

Boss says it's for the ambiance. You scoff to yourself. Buddy, you're not even here most of the time.

Don raised an eyebrow at your annoyed sigh, his expression unreadable as he gazed at you, "What's goin' on in that big ol' head of yours?"

"It's not big," You snapped, regret instantly smacking you in the face. This Sonnelinno guy knew your boss. One wrong word and you could kiss your job goodbye.

Maybe that was for the best. Perhaps you could become a house spouse to Chance if you were lucky. Draped in the finest silks and fabrics while following them around from casino to casino in Roblox. Their left hand on your waist and their right slamming slots. Winning big together.

God. Now that's the life. You mused to yourself, the fantasy interrupted by the yellow man's surprisingly warm laughter.

"Sure, sweetheart," he chuckled, "Ain't nothin' wrong with havin' a big head. I'm a big fella myself."

It was true. This guy nearly reached the top of the doorway. What the hell did this guy's parents feed him?

"With good proportions! Your head is decently sized," you added.

Don looked at you funny, a smile on his lips, "Is that s'posed to be a good thing?"

You nod, face burning hot as you lower your gaze again. Watching the espresso machine fill a dainty tea cup. The ceramic depicted a tiny bunny frolicking through a field. The miniature platter it came with illustrated the same bunny nibbling on some grass.

Reminding you of something.

"Is Gubby hungry?" You asked hesitantly, approaching him with the teacup. Sure, it's not the procedure to serve customers from their seats, but it's a very slow night. What's the harm in bending a few rules? Especially if it's to appease your boss's "main man". Whatever that entailed. You'd ask Mr. Tall-Dark-And-Handsome, but you feel like you wouldn't like the answer.

Gubby sat up at the mention of her name and the implication of being fed. Her paws patting Don's arm, as if begging for a treat.

"Principessina could use a snack," he leaned back, "Whatcha got, sweetheart?"

"Fresh leafy greens and a bowl of water," You smiled at him, and Don smiled back. Gubby just stared at you, her left paw thumping impatiently.

"You know your stuff," he mused, tilting his head, "Told ya havin' a big head isn't so bad."

"Just enjoy your drink," you huffed, returning to the counter to open the mini-fridge below the cash register. Inside was a pre-made salad you had brought earlier today before you visited the park. Popping off the salad's lid, you pulled out a leaf of romaine and red leaf lettuce, alongside some strips of green bell pepper, and placed them all on a decorative plate. You never got around to eating it and figured Gubby needed it more than you did.

"How much for the greens?" He asked, pulling out his thick wallet.

"It's on the house," you shook your head, "It's actually my dinner, but I'm not hungry haha."

Don frowned, "I insist."

"It's not on the menu. So there isn't really a price," you shrugged, snapping the lid shut, hoping that would shut him up.

He only smirked in response, pulling out a crisp bill. One hundred Robux. "Some green for ya green, sweetheart," he purred. You shuddered.

Yep. He's like an evolution of Chance. Stupid fedora, hidden eyes, and stacks of Robux to spend on you.

Oh my god. More blood money.

"I shouldn't," you waved him off, inching away slightly, "The salad was four robux."

"Okay," he pulls out three more crisp bills, totaling his tip to four hundred robux.

"It's a gift," you cross your arms over your chest.

"So is this," Don suddenly stood up, his long legs made quick yet graceful strides towards the counter. He leaned into your space, a slight sneer on his lips, the generous tip in his gloved hand, "It's rude to deny a gift, toots."

"W-well, I gave you a gift first," you stammered, looking away to avoid his intense stare, "You're basically denying my gift by giving me money."

"How?"

"Well..." You forced yourself to face him again, "You negate the intention of the gift by giving me money. Making it an exchange rather than a thoughtful act."

"Big head with big words," he tsked, shaking his head, "You stupid or somethin'?"

"Or something," you replied.

"Yeah, I can tell," he chuckled, watching you search through shelves for an adequate bowl.

"Do ya have a bundle of joy at home?" Don asked, sipping his espresso.

"Do I look like I have kids?" You scoffed, pulling out a tiny bowl from the cupboard.

Are my eyebags THAT bad?

"... A bunny. Do you have one?" He clarified, an amused look on his face, "But yeah. You look the part. Soft and sweet."

"T-thanks?" You reply hesitantly, quickly turning away to fill up the bowl and definitely not to avoid his gaze. The water is slowly filling the bowl. "Yeah. I do. He lives with my parents now."

"You're welcome," he shrugged, his gaze focused on you as you approached with the bowl and plate in hand.

"Here you go, ma'am," You addressed Gubby as you placed the plate full of leafy greens and a cool bowl of water beside her. She immediately leaped onto the plate, nibbling the veggies eagerly as her owner scratched her ears.

You pivot away to return to making his four other orders, but he called out to you.

"Come. Sit with me for a bit," Don raised his hand, “Tell me more about your little angel.”

Turning towards him again, you tilted your head, "Thought you wanted the coffee now."

The older man chuckled at your response.

"Eh, fuggetaboutit. They're not here yet," Don shrugged, sipping his espresso with his pinky out.

What impeccable manners.

You then glanced at Gubby, she too was politely downing her drink. At least you assumed she was being polite; she wasn't glaring at you anymore.

Sitting across from the yellow Robloxian, you looked up at Don. It was almost comical how he sat in such a tiny booth, a dainty teacup in one hand and a fluffy bunny in the other. Yet it wasn't; it was charming to see such an intimidating man embrace such a softness, both literally and metaphorically. Gubby rubbed her head against his fingers and purred.

"Well... Paulie is three years old," you began, pulling out your phone from your apron. "He's really messy and wild. When I used to live with my folks, he would jump on my head every morning. Probably the best worst alarm ever."

You turned your phone around to show off your lockscreen, showcasing a decently sized bunny. Paulie is a brown English lop. His fur is as dark as cinnamon and soft as velvet, with long droopy ears.

"That big old fella?" He snickered, imagining the twelve-pound bunny attacking you in the morning.

"He's not that big..." you sighed as you opened your camera roll, handing your phone over to Don. He raised an eyebrow at the tiny bitemarks all over your phone case.

"She does that too," he muttered, his fingers tracing the marks, "The jumping and biting."

"Really?" You ask, glancing at Gubby, who was nibbling on a green bell pepper strip.

"Especially the biting," Don beamed, scratching behind her ears, "She loves helping me work. Isn't that right, bambina?"

Yeah. That was definitely blood money. The bloodiest, probably.

Gubby squeaked happily and thumped her foot.

Don scrolled through your photo album dedicated to Paulie. There were photos of him as a kit, curled up on your shoulder as you read to him. Photos where he stood proudly by the hole he nibbled through your parents' couch (he wore the dunce cap you made for him). Videos of him running around your feet. Videos of him squeaking and purring at the camera.

Gubby's ears perked at the sudden noise. With no warning, she suddenly charged at Don's hands, headbutting your phone onto the table. Where she hovered over the video of him purring. Pawing the screen.

"Seems like Gubby likes Paulie," He chuckled, not bothering to pull the enamored bunny away.

"Maybe it's the big ears," you joked.

"Maybe," he smiled, looking at you as he leaned against the table, "Or the big head."

Like father, like daughter.

"My head isn't--" You began, but stopped.

Is he coming onto me?

He watched your face heat up and laughed, "I'm pullin' your leg, sweetheart."

Gubby then nudged Don's arm, nodding her head towards your phone.

"You free this weekend?" He asked suddenly.

"Uh... yeah. I am," You replied hesitantly, reaching for your phone, only for Gubby to suddenly hiss at you, "Oh. My bad..."

"Now, principessina," Don lifted the white ball of fur. She squirmed and smacked him with her little nubs for paws. He continued sternly, "That isn't yours."

She snorted in annoyance.

"Wow. She's... clingy," you frowned, quickly sliding your phone back into your apron.

"She's a Sonnellino," he grinned, glancing at you, "And we Sonnellinos get what we want."

God, where have I heard that name before?

"Well, Paulie isn't a what," you tilted your head, "He has his own wants too, y'know."

"Yeah, yeah," Don rolled his eyes, focusing on the squirming bunny before him.

God, Gubby really wants to see him... Is this normal bunny behavior?

You pull out your wallet from your pocket, tugging out the Polaroid selfie of you and Paulie. His droopy ears covered your eyes as he sat on your head. Then you waved the photo in front of Gubby, she stopped whining and looked at the photograph, then at you. Don set her down, and she slowly approached the hand holding the Polaroid. Gubby sniffed your fingers; they smelled of coffee beans. Gently, she nudged your palm, and you nodded, placing the picture before her.

She squeaked out a thank you, or that's what you assumed it was. Regardless, she looked grateful, placing her cheek on the photo, purring.

"Thanks, toots," Don smiled at you. This time, it felt honest. No teasing, no sarcasm, it was just warmth and genuine joy. And it fit his sharp, rectangular face.

"It's nothing," you shrugged, "I feel like she would've killed me if I didn't give her a momento of him."

"Oh. She would've," he nodded.

There was another pause, "So... why did you ask me if I was free later?"

"I want Paulie to come over for a playdate with Gubby," he told you. His tone made it clear that it wasn't a question, but a command.

Should I?

You glanced at Gubby, she bit a piece of romaine lettuce and dragged it to the photo, nudging it to Paulie's face.

What's the harm? She seems... nice enough. Clingy. But she's just a bunny. I could always carry her away if Paulie gets scared off. You glanced at Don, and he winked at you. Besides... Who could say no to a face like that?

"Why not?" you shrugged, "Paulie could use a friend."

"Come to my penthouse," he told you, nabbing your notebook from your apron and quickly jotting down his address. It was across the city, rooted in the affluent part of Robloxity. The block where Roblox's top traders, most successful developers, and even a few admins lived.

What the hell does he do for a living?

"Your place?" You asked, looking up at him.

Maybe he's a trader? With a fit like that, he must have a dominus or two.

"Where the hell else?" He asked cooly, petting a now sleepy Gubby, she was back on the pillow, with the photo of Paulie underneath her paw.

"I mean. I just met you. I can't just go to a stranger's house," you replied awkwardly.

"So your place?" He asked.

"No," you blurt out, clearing your throat as you avoid his gaze, "Maybe the park?"

"Too many people," he shook his head, "Plus it ain't safe for soft pretty little things."

"You're right... Gubby and Paulie could run away," you murmur, thinking about the two bunnies eloping.

"Yeah... them..." he replied vaguely, "Just show up at noon. I'll take care of everything. Got it?"

Makes sense. I guess. Sure, he's scary and morally dubious, but he's been so nice... For the most part. I'm sure I'll be fine.

"Received," you nodded, "I'll pick up Paulie, then visit your place."

The two of you sat in silence for the next few minutes, the jazz aided the tranquil environment as you pet Gubby as well. Your fingers grazed Don's, and he wished he didn't wear gloves.

"I should get back to work," you suddenly pull away, standing up quickly, "Customers need me."

He motioned around the empty cafe.

"Ain't nobody here, Y/N," he frowned. It felt strange hearing him say your name. He spoke as if savoring its flavor.

"But there could be any moment now," you retort, glancing at the door, "What if your men come back? I still haven't made their coffee."

"Then make it when they come back," he huffed, crossing his arms.

"You're not my only customer, Don," you turned to him, hands on your hips.

"Well I am," his finger slowly tapped the surface of the wooden table, "Now. In this exact moment."

He loves that word. Now . Now this. Now that.

Now I gotta get back to work, or Inforcer will kill me.

Parting your lips, you were about to defend yourself, but you were interrupted by the chime of the door opening. Seems like you didn't need to even say a word. A smile crept on your lips, a look that screamed "I told you so," and Don's annoyed sneer turned into a surprisingly docile smile.

"Huh. Guess you were right, conigliett(o/a)," he spoke smoothly, straightening up his posture back into something stiff.

What the hell does that mean? Knowing him, it was probably "big head" or something.

"I get that sometimes," You nod, causing him to snicker.

"Sometimes," he repeated, his eyes focused on your form as you retreated to the counter. His eyes traced the shape of your body. But you didn't notice. Instead, you focused on the four new customers that had entered the cafe.

They all wore the same fancy outfit: a white cotton dress shirt, a black vest, and matching slacks. There were slight variations, of course, their hats differentiated the Robloxians. A white top hat, a black captain cap, a ushanka, and black Clockwork shades. Or what looked to be Clockwork shades, you've gazed into them enough to tell which ones were real and which were dupes, and they looked legit.

They must be his men.

Don lifted his hand, signaling them to sit. And they did. The four men squished themselves together across from his seat, sitting shoulder to shoulder.

"You guys can sit with me, you know that," Don muttered.

"Yeah, but we like this," the one in the top hat shrugged. The three others nodded.

"... alright," the older man sighed.

"Where's our coffee?" the one with the military cap asked, glancing at you. You avoided his obvious stare and now focused on washing your hands at the sink.

"Be patient, Contractee," Don chuckled, "I was just havin' a chat with our new friend."

Why did he say "friend" like that? You shuddered to yourself as you dried your hands.

The bald one raised an eyebrow, his brow raised behind his glasses, "Friend? Like friend friend or..." He lifted his hand, sticking his thumb out as he quickly motioned a slash around his throat. You could see the action in the corner of your eye.

What the hell did I get myself into?

"Good friend," Don smiled, "Gubby is quite fond of them."

More like fond of Paulie.

The one in the military cap giggled, glancing at the sleeping bunny, "Really? She hates everyone."

The man in the fluffy black ushanka elbowed the younger man.

"It's fine, Soldier," Don chuckled, "Contractee has a point."

Soldier? Contractee? The fuck are these names?

You poured the coffee into four different mugs. All different designs, they ordered the same coffee; it was the least you could do to eliminate confusion. Placing them all on a platter, you approached their table again. Their whisperings ceased as Don lifted his hand to silence them.

You handed the one named Contractee the red Christmas-themed mug. He grabbed it eagerly and sipped it; he winced as it burned his tongue. The one in the white top hat laughed. Contractee nudged him, "Shut up, Consigliere."

"I didn't say anything," he shrugged as you handed him a rectangular mug that had a decal of a cat on it. He quickly turned to you and gave you a polite nod, "Thanks, Mx."

"You're welcome," you smiled politely at the Robloxian as he blew his brew.

Next, you handed Soldier the camo mug; he gave you a firm nod as he grabbed the handle.

"Last, but not least," you joked as you placed the unicorn mug in front of the bald man. His expression was blank as he stared at the pink mug; his lips tugged into a smile.

"Suits ya, Caporegime!" Contractee chuckled, "You're all sunshine and rainbows."

"Yeah, aren't you a brony?" Consigliere hummed.

My intuition is never wrong... You grinned to yourself at your random choice of mugs as you returned to your post at the counter.

"Like you aren't--" Contractee began before Don cleared his throat.

"Gentlemen. Focus," he snapped his fingers, "We got a job to do."

And the clique returned to their murmurs of murder, probably, you'd rather not think about it. Or about how you're forced to go over to his place in a few days. Alone with him.

God. This playdate is gonna be weird.

You focused on the smooth jazz emitting from the radio, spacing out as you watched the clock tick. Thinking about Chance, about what they could be doing in this exact moment.

Gambling probably. At that casino... What was it again? Sunny Lemurs? Salmon Leo? God. I don't even care anymore. I can't wait for Friday.

Wiping the counter, you got back into your rhythm. Two more hours. Two long, evil hours left of nothing to do. At least you were getting paid. Decently.

Telamon, save me from this boring fucking job. You silently prayed to yourself, semi-jokingly. You knew he couldn't hear you. He's been gone for years.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the chime of the door again. Looking up, you saw a yellow woman with pastel purple hair and strangely familiar black eyes.

"Hi, how can I help you?" You asked the mystery woman, glancing at her shirt, which read MeepCity. She was a tourist.

Ah. She's from... that place. You winced. Biggest red flag ever. But she's so pretty...

"Hm..." the pretty purple-haired stranger hummed. She casually leaned into your space, her gaze fixed on the menu behind your adequately sized head. She then looked at you and smiled sweetly, "What do you recommend? I'm really new here."

"Uh... uhm..." You babbled. She was in your face, those tar-black eyes trained on you, as if trying to sink you in. "The hot cocoa is pretty good," You continue shyly, your fingers tugging nervously at your waist ties, "You're really pretty by the way."

"You are too!" She beamed, her cheeks flushed a bright pink as a smile appeared on her face.

She suddenly took your hand and eagerly shook it; they were surprisingly rough for someone so dainty-looking, and her grasp was tight.

What a woman...

"I'm SonOfSevenless... But you can call me S."







BEAUTIFUL FANART!! HELLOOOOO!!!

The first is by User01 on quotev! It's Chance rizzing up the reader (something I requested after they asked lol). I was twirling my hair so bad when I first saw this days ago, I couldn't focus at all XD. This is the first ever fanart for my work ever so I hold this very dear to my heart. I don't know how to flip this image. But It's really cute!!

And the second is by caterpiwi_garden on AO3. Based on chapter 6's encounter with "Roger"! I fangirled so hard when they used the brief description of Y/N's uniform for their design. This is canon btw.

Notes:

A/N: This chapter is almost TWICE the amount I typically write (instead of 2000 words, it's 3800 something). I wanted to end it earlier, but I had so much fun writing Gubby. I know little to nothing about Mafioso's goons, so I free balled it. Same with Mafioso. My bad for the ooc moments (bronies for lyfe) and emphasis on yandere Gubby. Pray for Paulie...

I've been blessed by two lovely artists! I freaked out when I first saw these two. Probably the reason why I wrote so much this chapter. I wanted to return the favor haha. If any readers want to showcase fanart, you can share it in the comments.

 

Fun Facts / Silly Stuff below:

* Y/N couldn't bring Paulie to their apartment because of a "no pets" policy. But also he loves eating through furniture.
* Paulie loves digging holes.
* Mafioso and Gubby take turns looking at the Polaroid of Y/N and Paulie on the way back.
* The reason why Mafioso is referred to as Don, is because Y/N doesn't know his alias. Using a suspicious name that can draw attention to your criminal status for the equivalent of a Starbucks order is insane.
* Mafioso passing by a bobblehead or a bloxikin at the store: "... Just like Y/N..." (Yeah. He buys one that resembles you. He thinks its cute and puts it on his dashboard. His men don't question it.)