Compulsive [Yandere!Tim Wright x Nonbinary Reader]

Intial

|| There is a male and female version of this story in my published works! ||

    Saturdays were arguably one of the worst days of the week to be working in customer service, especially as a barista. Annoying teenagers, screaming kids, pissed off adults who thought they were smarter than the exhausted workers. It was all the worst demographics piled into one horrid day. It just so happened, right at this very moment, one of the prime examples as to why you were so tired of this job was having a meltdown in front of you.

    "Sir, please, I can remake your coffee... for the third time," you mumbled the last part under your breath before continuing to try and ease this man child, "but I promise you that I am not putting whole milk in your coffee." you said, the exhaustion with this grown man very evident in your tone. He was holding the line up and you could see the angered look of other customers in the line behind this man with the worst receding hairline you had ever seen. 'Someone must be bitter about their recent divorce." you thought internally, causing a small smile to appear on your face. Oops. That was an immediate mistake as the sewage dump of a human across the counter from you immediately looked even more pissed, going red in the face like he had been smacked in the face with a plate of hot sauce.

    "What the fuck are you laughin' about?" The abrasive tone was not an unfamiliar tone, but the sinister tone in his voice was a new one. "You think you're some kind of god in that fucking apron?!" his voice was raising, finally catching the attention of a brunette in the back of the line that was almost piling outside of the cafe door. You raised your hands up in a surrender position as you took one step further back into your station, noticing the disgruntled patron reaching for their smoldering cup of coffee on the counter. Maybe if you were lucky enough, he would just take his coffee and leave, but luck was never really on your side. You saw his arm lifting up to throw the hot liquid at your face, your eyes instinctively closing tightly shut, arms going to cover your face, preparing for the eventual first degree burns to hit your skin.

    That splash of pain from hot bean juice never came, though. You could feel your throat tense up as you swallowed in fear of what sight you were about to open up your eyes to. Very hesitantly, you opened up an eye, looking at the counter for a few seconds before gradually making your gaze up to where the man had been standing. What greeted you instead made your brain completely freeze up, having to open up both eyes to understand what was actually happening.

    "Uh-" was all that you could manage, and even that was cracked. Standing before you was the angry man with coffee all over himself and before you could even question how the hell that even happened, your gaze met with a pair of the prettiest chocolate brown eyes you have ever seen. Blinking a few times, you noticed another man, who was holding the balding man's wrist and had the angriest yet calmest look in his eyes that you had ever witnessed. It sent a shiver down your spine even seeing that reaction on a human's face. Suddenly, it dawned on you what this guy had done for you, he had stopped the angry customer from throwing molten coffee lava on you and instead poured it on him. You quickly felt your cheeks becoming a light shade of pink at the gesture, no one had ever physically stopped someone like that for you. It also did not help that this guy was beyond attractive-- messy brown hair, a wide chest, just a little bit of tummy that looked absolutely perfect to lay your head on, and arms that were toned yet looked like they could hold you so tight.

    "[Y/N]." Oh god, even his voice was attractive, deep yet soft. Your words felt trapped in your throat and your mind was racing at a million miles per hour and you could feel your heart skipping a few beats. Who was this guy and how did he know your name? Looking around, your hands fiddled with your apron as your mind desperately tried to find the right words to say.

    "How do you know my name?" you asked.

    The brunette looked confused before lifting his finger to his chest, tapping on his plaid shirt where your name tag was. You immediately felt a wave of embarrassment fill your entire body. "Right," you awkwardly laughed at yourself, "I knew that... I was just playing with you!" You tried to recover at least a shred of your own dignity. It did not feel like it worked at all. You could even see one of your co-workers cringe. Nice one, [Y/N]. Real nice.

    Now everything felt awkward, especially when your knight in shining armor let go of the guy, who was far too embarrassed to say anything further as he stormed out of the store without saying a word. Now there were just twenty pairs of eyes on you and this handsome stranger who just saved your ass. Great, absolutely great. Now you somehow had to figure out how to make this not awkward at all. You rubbed the back of your neck and looked around, rolling on the balls of your feet. "Can I get you something...? On the house, of course." Yeah! That sounded smooth and totally not like you were just brushing off everything that happened in the past few minutes.

    "A black coffee," the male in front of you replied as he slid his wallet out. You could almost feel yourself deadpan at this guy. Did you not just say that this was on the house? Deciding to not question this guy, you turned around and poured the hot coffee into a large cup. Handing it to the sideburned male, your eyes widening as he handed you a twenty.

    "Here's your tip, have a good day, [Y/N]," he said as he waved his hand, taking the cup of coffee with his other as he started to make his way out of the door.

    "Wait!" you called out to him, slamming your hands on the counter. "What's your name?" You could feel your heart pounding in your throat as you waited for his reply with vigor.

    "Tim. Tim Wright," he replied before shooting you one last glance and leaving out the front glass door.

    Maybe working Saturdays was not all that bad.