2p!France x reader- Just a little help (part 1)

You raced off to work in your old run-down car, praying that the damned thing didn't just explode on you or something halfway there. The car itself was literally older than you, but you missed the bus that you were used to taking. This high-mileage junk yard piece was only your back up if you were ever to miss the bus. The only reason you had the thing was because it was the car you came to this city in nearly six months ago.

You came to this city for a fresh start. Due to a few 'scuffles' in your old neighborhood, you felt it would be best if you left as soon as you could. Thanks to an after school job you kept since you were fifteen, you were able to do so. Your family had a few financial issues, so as soon as you could work, you did to help out. Over half of what you would make went towards the family, the other portion you would keep for yourself and save. By the time you were twenty-two, you finally had enough to successfully move out to a city fairly close but far enough to keep you 'out of harms way,' so to speak.

After running yet another stop sign while singing 'fuck the police' in your car, you soon pulled up to the local family owned restaurant that you worked at. Once you were out of the car, you slammed your hand down on the lock to the driver's side before closing the door. You jogged off to the entrance of the restaurant while fixing your nametag on your shirt.

"Geez. I thought you were gonna be late again," the dark haired female complained. "You're making me look bad, as the person who suggested to hire you!"

You threw an arm around the girl. She was one of the first friends you made when you moved out here, and as she previously stated, was kind enough to help you get this job after knowing you for only about a week or two.

"Just in time then, huh?!"

"Whatever. Come on. Lets get to work."

You nodded energetically before tying your apron around your waist and filling the pockets with the proper necessities; napkins, straws, ect. You grabbed your notepad and pen, then everyone went off to their respected posts.

Though you were quite new to everyone and this restaurant was used to repeat customers who knew everyone's name who worked there, they all warmed up to you quickly, making you feel right at home. They were all so nice. The customers, along with those who worked there all made the atmosphere of the diner so relaxed. You weren't used to such a slow-paced feel. It was refreshing and helped calm your own personality.

"(name)! You got table four."

"Okie-dokie~!" you answered your co-worker before heading off to said table. Occupying it was an older man and a boy a few years younger than you who you knew as the man's nephew. You smiled to the two. "Welcome back to the diner," you greeted.

"(name)! Good! Help me out here!" the man remarked before pointing to the high schooler. "This...this little loser right here. You know he's seventeen, right?"

"A-at least don't call me a loser..."

"What else am I suppose to call ya? You got mad when I called you a virgin in front of all of your friends!"

The boy hit his head on the table, "W-why are you always so loud?!"

"It's pathetic! Do you know how old I was when I lost mine? Thirteen! Here you are, almost out of high school; haven't touched a girl! I don't have any other nice name to call you, besides a loser. (name)! Talk to this kid!"

You giggled at them, "I think he's fine, Mr. Henry. You know young people nowadays. They're waiting longer!"

"That's total and complete bullshit! Show me the fucking graph that proves this!"

"I'll look it up later for you."

"How old were you?"

"U-uncle Henry! Y-you can't just ask somebody that!" the teenager proclaimed.

"Hey! Hey! Was I talking to you? Don't tell me what I can and can't ask my niece, alright?"

You covered your mouth as you laughed again, "You guys are real funny! If you want to know though, I never did."

"Never! How old are you?"

"Twenty-two."

"Right when I thought I had a niece worth bragging about."

You playfully rolled your eyes, "Anyway, Mr. Henry! If I could actually do my job. Can I take your orders?"

"Aye, kid. You been doing any of those drugs?"

"No, sir."

"Sound like it. You know that stuff messes with your memory. The hell kind of question is that?! I get the same thing every time."

"Of course. Of course. You know, I just feel obligated to ask."

The man pointed his thumb at you, then spoke to his nephew. "Take a note. Don't do drugs, kid."

"Listen to your uncle," you ruffled the boy's head, "Remember! Don't huff. Don't puff. Stay away from that stuff!"

"Nerd!!" the man called out after you as you went to put in the orders.

As you were telling the cook the orders, a different co-worker tapped your arm and pointed off in the general direction of the next table you were to help. You saluted her before heading over.

At the table were two people you didn't recognize. You've never seen them around the city nor in the restaurant. You assumed them to be brothers. They looked very much alike; they were both blonde and looked fairly grumpy and tired.

You approached with notepad and pen in hand. The apparent youngest glanced over to you. His eyes were guarded behind dark sunglasses. You gave a friendly grin and stated, "Hello, and welcome! I'm (name), and I'll be your server today. Can I start you off with something to drink?"

The younger one sighed before putting his elbow on the table and leaning on his hand. "You got alcohol here?"

"Uhm...Yes. I believe so."

"Good. Give me that."

"Alright then, I guess. I'll see what I can do."

You peeked over to the other man when you heard the flickering of a lighter. He was using said lighter for the cigarette already in his hand.

"Oh, I'm sorry, sir, but there's no smoking in the restaurant," you politely informed him.

He moved the cigarette from his lips before letting out the smoke that was piling in his lungs, into the air. He put the lighter back in his pocket before answering you, "...Oh."

"I'm going to have to ask you to put it out."

"Wow, really?"

You twitched a bit. "I'm going to ask once more politely," he ignored you. "Aye, asshole! Do you mind not blowing that toxic smoke into my breathing space?! Please and fucking thank you!" you forced another smile on your face as the other man he came with laughed. "That was my last polite warning? Would you care to go for rude or is it at all possible for you to put that out?"

You held eye contact with one another for awhile, until he mushed the cigarette against the table. You were getting ready to explode with an extensive amount of cuss words, but you were suddenly grabbed by your shoulders and yanked backwards, causing you to stumble on your way.

"(n-name)! (name)!" the manager was now beside you, roughly shaking your hair around with his hand before he began talking to those at the table you were trying to serve. "I'm, very v-very sorry for her misbehavior. She's extremely new a-and still learning the ropes. (n-name), say sorry."

"But!"

He put his arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer as he whispered through gritted teeth, "Look, you little shit. Want to possibly live and keep this job? Apologize."

"Uhm!...I-I'm terribly sorry for the...inconvenience."

The manager began pushing you back towards the kitchen, but not before apologizing for you a few more times.

You were very confused as to what was going on. You were just enforcing the rules. It's not like it was the first time you cussed at a customer or got loud with one. It was never really something that was frowned upon here. In fact, the staff did so pretty often, so you didn't understand why the manager was so upset with you.

You sat nervously as the manager paced around in front of you, seemingly stressed, and other staff members tried to see what was going on while still finishing up their work.

"The hell is wrong with you, huh?!"

"U-uhm."

"I just fucking saved your life, you know that?! Maybe, at that! You hear me?!"

"Y-yes, sir!"

"Yes, sir? Yes, fuckin sir?! Oh! That's great now! You couldn't just say that shit a couple minutes ago?!"

"I-I'm sorry! I-I didn't know! I'm still not too sure why I'm in trouble, actually."

"You getting smart?!"

"N-no, sir!"

"Fuck it! You're fired!"

"W-what?!"

"Fired! You heard me!"

You jumped out of your seat, "This is fucking bullshit! The hell did I even do?! You can't just fire me!"

"I can do whatever the hell I want, so see ya later!"

You balled up both of your fist as you glared at him. "Fine! Fuck you and this job!" you exclaimed before storming out.


The next day, as you lied out on your couch in your apartment; drowning yourself in self-pity and liquor, you received a knock to your front door. You were reluctant to get up at first, but after awhile the knocking continued followed by, "(name)? (name)! Open the door! It's me!"

The voice of the female who was nice enough to help you get the job you were just recently fired from for no good reason made you groan as you now felt obligated to let her in.

You stumbled to the door, bumping into walls since you've been drinking since morning and it was now going on around three o' clock. You opened it with a bottle in your hand and sighed, "What?"

"Oh, my poor baby," she pets your hair before entering the house and helping you back to the couch. She sat you down before herself. "What happened yesterday?"

"That fucking dick of a manager fired me for no fucking reason!" you debated and hit your free hand against your chest, "I was just doing my job!"

"Well, I heard from some people at work that...well," she leaned in towards you and in a hushed tone said, "They said you were cursing at Francis?"

You titled your head, your eyes half lidded. You took a swing at the bottle you had before replying,"...Who the fuck is that?"

She shook her head before taking the bottle from you, "My, god! How much have you had to drink?!"

"How many bottles are on the ground?"

"Jesus! Are you trying to kill yourself?! Slow down! But anyway, I came to ask you if it was true."

"...What?"

"Francis! Did you or did you not curse at him?!"

"I told you, I don't know who the hell that is!"

"Y-you were serious?! How do you not?! Maybe you've just been drinking so much that you forgot!" she gasped as she covered her mouth. "Oooohhhh!...I think I get it now."

You held your head, "Shit. I think I'm gonna pass out."

"I'll get you something to eat to sober you up some. Sit in the dinning room and I'll explain it to you. Hopefully you'll be sober enough to understand and remember what I'm gonna tell you." She helped you off the couch, and you leaned on her shoulder before she put you down in a chair.

She gave you some crackers as she fixed you some tea. After awhile, the world wasn't spinning as much. She sat a cup in front of you then took the seat beside you with her own cup. You sipped.

"So, who's Francis?"

"Right. You must not know, since you're not from here...Are you familiar with the mafia?"

You giggled and nodded, "More or less."

"You know how in movies they're seen basically running whole cities from the underground?"

"Yeah?"

"Well,...That's pretty much Francis. He's the leader of the mafia out here."

You raised your eyebrow, "Really now?"

"Don't look at me like that! I'm serious! I'm almost certain that's the reason you were fired," she drunk from her cup before continuing. "You know the manager is the owner's son-in-law, right?"

"I heard about it."

"Well, not too many months before you got out here, the manager basically sold the place to Francis!"

"He sold it to him?!"

"Yeah! Crazy, right?! But Francis owns a lot of things, people, places. You know, the whole mafia nine yards."

You sat your cup down. "So this mafia thing...Is it like a really big mafia?"

"Uh-huh!"

"Are they...What's the word I'm looking for?...Smart?"

"Very! I can't even imagine the type of criminal mastermind it would take to beat Francis and his mafia! I just recommend you don't do anything to make him mad. People don't really see him around much, unless they've done something wrong."

"Oh? Really? Does that mean he's hard to find?"

"Pretty mu- Wait! What would you need to be looking for him for anyway?!"

"I never said I was! Relax!" you chuckled. "I'm just asking random questions, is all."

"Random, huh?"

"Yes. Very innocent, random questioning."

"Well, alright."

"I have a scenario for you."

"Really?"

"Lets just say, I'm just talking here, that someone would like help...'getting rid' of some people. Could they pay him to do that? Figuratively speaking, of course!"

"Figuratively speaking,...lets just say that person is you."

"If it helps you come up with an answer to the scenario, then by all means."

"If that were possible, who would it be that you'd be trying to," she cleared her throat. "'get rid of'?"

"Hmm...," you tapped your chin. "Well...I'm not too sure! Even for just a little 'what if', I can't think of anyone I'd want to have killed or anything. I was really just asking, just to ask. Did I make it sound suspicious or something?"

"A little," You both laughed a bit. "But anyway, 'figuratively speaking', I'm sure."

"Whoa! Scary! I had no idea! I'm a bit worried now..."

"S-so it's true?! You really did?!"

"I guess I did! The manager was really mad at me about it. I didn't get it, but I think I understand now."

Oh, man! Don't you worry though! I'm sure you're fine."

You gave her a thumbs up, "I am too~!"

She stood up from the table and you followed her. "Come on! Lets go looking for you another job."

You placed your hand on her shoulder, "Don't you worry about that! You've done too much for me already! I can find a job by myself."

"Are you sure?"

"I am a grown woman! I think I can handle a job search."