Marvel Imagines From DeviantArt (Requests Closed)

Baskin Robbins Always Finds Out (Scott Lang)

  "Crap," you hissed, fetching your purse from the table beside the front entrance, "Quarter 'til and it's the busiest day of the week!" You shook your head, throwing the door open and shuffling quickly into your car, pushing the key in before realizing you forgot your hat.

"You have got to be kidding me."

A groan rumbled up your chest before you ran back inside, swatting for your hat before turning around and locking the door.

It was a normal Saturday, in a normal neighborhood. You lived your normal life in your normal house and drove your normal car to your normal job. Life could not be any more normal.

You'd thought to yourself many-a-time about how it'd be nice to get out there, to not be so mundane. But, as it would seem, it's a very hard rut to get out of. And, try as you might, you just weren't good at "getting out there."

Rubbing your temple, you thought aloud, "No time for coffee," and glanced at the clock, "aaaand I'm going to be late. The manager will love that." You sighed; before you knew it you were parking back behind your workplace.

Upon entry, your boss gave you the stink eye, which you returned with an awkward smile. He gave up doing your job for you and went to his office. You dropped your purse down with the other employee's items before taking your position. It's gonna be a looong day.

You fixed your hat so that it wasn't crooked on your head before taking the first order, "Welcome to Baskin Robbins, how can I help you today?"

The shift went on as it always did: normally. You took a twenty minute lunch break- which your boss used to yell at you before you went back to work, claiming "it will never happen again...sir."

It was when you were about to close shop that one final guy came in. Black pants and black hoodie, he looked like he'd just come back from a heist. Judging simply by the look in his eyes, you wouldn't be surprised if he had.

"Hello," you beamed with a fake smile, "Welcome to-"

"Baskin Robbins, yeah," he chuckled, reviewing the menu above, "I'll take a...cheeseburger."

You raised your brow, unsure how to respond, "Um, I'm really sorry about this," you paused, noticing his deep hazel eyes before continuing, "but we don't have cheeseburgers here. We're Baskin Robbins," you droned. "We sell ice cream."

He giggled, as if he were musing over an inside joke he hadn't told anyone, "I'm kidding, I'm kidding. One Mango Fruit Blast. Please."

You huffed at the response but punched in the code and gave him the total. Turning around to fix up his drink, you thought. Who is this guy? And why do I get the feeling he's bad news?

You turned back around to find him patiently waiting at the register, and smug grin plastered onto his face. He pulled his hands from his oddly filled pockets to grasp the cup, giving a single nod before walking out the door.

"Thanks for coming!" You called after him, sinking back down on your feet once he was out of view. Interesting guy. You closed shop and headed home.

---

The next night ran like a déjà vu dreader's nightmare. Same old, same young.

Unsurprisingly, just like the night before, the same guy showed up at the last minute.

"Hi," you greeted, innerly happy to see him come back so soon, "What can I do for you today?"