Random Oneshots Ig?

Intruder x reader

A/N: This can be intepreted as either romantic either platonic, it doesn't contain any relationship terms in it, they just meet in the dark.
Warnings: Reader smokes. That's all. I know some people aren't comfortable with it.

You pushed your mostly empty shopping cart around the local supermarket, looking around the shelves, being fully aware you won't get anything else other than what you already have in your cart, that being a bunch of juice boxes.

Heading toward the checkout, you smiled softly at the slightly paranoid cashier.
She looked at you with caution before smiling back.

"Is this all you want?" She said quietly, you felt kind of bad for her, being forced to come to work although the alternates are literally roaming the streets and houses of the Mandela County.

"May I also get a pack of cigarettes? Dunhill Black if you have?"

She nodded and turned towards the cigar stand, grabbing the said brand and handing it to you.

"That will be 62 bucks." She said, after scanning everything.

"42 bucks for the pack? In my native country they used to be barely 5 bucks..." You mumbled as she put everything in a bag.

"5 bucks? You're from Eastern Europe?" She tilted her head, curious of the price.

"Yeah..." You nodded and grabbed the bag and sighed.

"They're pricier here since they're being imported and stuff..." She looked at you sympathetically. "It's also a fancy brand."

"Yeah, yeah, 'fine cut', makes sense... Hey... Be careful on your way home from here, ok? I hope someone will pick you up?" You threw her a concerned glance, genuinely feeling worried about her safety.

"Aw, you're kind... My boyfriend will pick me up... You should be careful too, are you going home by foot?" She grinned slightly; your words seemed to pull her out of her defensive state.

"Yeah, I am, don't worry about me." You knew this idea will definitely stress her, as her expression went back to a cautious one. You decided to walk away from the conversation, leaving her trying to form a proper sentence as your figure gets further and further from her.

Leaving the store, you took your usual route towards your house, gripping the bag tightly.

As you were about to take the corner, a hooded figure seemed to appear out of nowhere right in front of you.

"Out this late? You do realize they won't find your body until next morning, that if anyone is brave enough to report your death." The stranger had this robotic voice, void of any emotion.

"Not that I care that much anymore." You mumbled. You expected a similar scenario, although in your scenario you're followed home and tortured there.

"You're strange." The 'man' spoke again, his barely visible eyes boring into your soul.

"You're not the first to conclude that..." You reached out from inside of the bag and pulled out your pack, swiftly opening it up.
The stranger shifts his attention to your cigs pack as you pull one out. "Do you want one also?" You asked without hesitation as you noticed where his attention was.

He seemed to hesitate, or more likely consider. He just shortly nodded and you inclined your pack towards him, inviting him to grab one himself.

After he also grabbed one, you settled yours between your lips, which resulted in him mimicking your actions. You pulled out a lighter to light your cigarette as he looked at you expectantly. Lighting his too, you suddenly lowered yourself on the pavement, taking a seat on the cold cement.

"These sticks... what are these?" He seemed confused on how to use them, looking at you for a bit to figure out you have to inhale through them.

"Cigarettes. I assume you've never had one? Damn, alternate lives must be boring if you guys never indulge to these." You hummed, exhaling the smoke as you spoke.

"You're fully aware I am your enemy, yet you don't try to escape." He ended up taking a seat next to you, his robotic voice switching its volume; it was quieter, calmer now.

"I don't consider alternates enemies. You just offer people some information, and they don't know how to let it sink in, so they go into denial and unalive themselves." You said matter-of-factly, smirking a bit as he glitches from choking on the smoke.

"You're a fool." He concluded.

"I'm not a fool for handling the truth in a more positive light." You glared at him, more likely playfully.

"There's nothing positive in this world."

"Aw, now you're talking like some emo."

"Emo?" The man tilted his head; you'd only assume he never heard that term before.

"I'd explain to you what that is, but I am not a dictionary."

After that, both of you went quiet as you unlit the finished cancer-sticks and threw them on the already dirty pavement.

Reaching to your bag once more, you pulled out two juice boxes, sliding one to him.

"Your throat should feel dry or even hurt after those." You justified, already impaling yours with its straw.

"I don't have pain receptors."

"Damn. That's cool."

"You're interesting." He still copied your actions and started sipping on his juice box.

"You're getting better at describing me." You rolled your eyes, ignoring his new way of characterizing you.

He almost seemed amused, although his lips didn't seem to separate themselves from the straw.

"Whoa, you really like these." Your eyebrows were raised in genuine surprise.

He didn't say anything, being too enamored in the sweet liquid rushing down his throat.

"Do you even have taste buds?"

The stranger looked up at you, finally parting his lips from the straw.

"Barely. I can't describe the taste."

"It's called 'sweet'."

He seemed unimpressed. "I know the minimal description of tastes."

"Yet you've said you don't know how to describe it." You smirked at his annoyed huff.

Putting out another 2 boxes of juice, you hand them to him.

"Since you really like these, here are some more." Your smirk relaxed into a genuine smile.

He grabs them and put them in his hoodie. "Can I get one of those sticks too?"

"One? You'll get bored easily, take 3." You pulled out your packet again, handing him the said number of cigarettes.

"Thanks." He also grabbed those.

"Here's a lighter too." You placed your lighter in his hand next to the 'sticks'.

He put them in the other pocket and got up, watching you rise off the cement too.

"You'll live." He stated shortly after you were back on your feet.

"Thank you? What's your name?" You chuckled, weirded out yet grateful he said that.

"Six."

"Oh, wait, you're the child snatcher?" You just now seemed to acknowledge his real identity.

"Yeah. I'll see you later." With that he walked in the direction you came from the supermarket, taking the corner.

"Wait- What do you mean?-" Looking behind the corner, you noticed there was no one there, not anymore.

"Damn... He's cool." You stared at the empty street for a while before continuing your walk towards your house, feeling more relieved than before.

Let's say you'll always find juice boxes and cigarettes around your house from now on.