Sweeney Todd X Reader

Chapter 8

TRIGGER WARNING: Violence, profanity, blood.

Mr.Todd stared at the young man, noticing he would most likely be around the same age as Anthony. He smiled slightly at him, before turning to you. You caught the uncomfortable glare, then turned to Daniel.

"Sorry son, but we've got much work to do today. We'll be all set soon. Promise."

Daniel nodded to her.
"Take care, love," he waved before walking out.

"What a gent," you sighed, smiling at Mr.Todd. He gave a slight smile, shrugging. You laughed softly, before starting to clean up a little.

"Mr.T," you called, sweeping the floor with an old decaying broom.

"Yes (Y/N)?"

"I was wondering if you could put up the new sign- the one that says '(Y/N)'s Sweet Pies!'  if it's not too much to ask. Please?" You asked, looking up at him with your hand on your hip. Of course Mr.Todd nodded.

"Grand. Thank you very much," you said, smiling.
"The new sign is over there," you said, pointing his direction to a freshly painted, clean sign.

He walked over, picking up the sign and carrying it outside. He managed to borrow a large ladder from a business owner down the road not too far. He stepped up, removing the old mildew infested sign, replacing it with the new fresh one.

He hopped down, the old sign dragging against the hard pavement, emitting a squeaking sound that caused all of the canines in the area to glance up with their heads tilted. He laid it face down on the ground, before walking into the pie shop and sitting down.

"May I have a cup o' gin, (Y/N)?" He asked.
"Oh, of course," you stated, grabbing a clean glass and then the glass container of alcohol, pouring it into the clear cup.
You slid it across the table to him before plugging the cork into the bottle once more. You then put it away, looking around the shop.

You tapped your foot, clicking your tongue.
"What else, what else?" You thought aloud.
"Ah- dough ingredients," you realized. "I'll be back in a hurry, love," you said, running out down Fleet Street to the nearest market. You stepped into the quad-like area, your coin purse in your hand. As you strolled around, you noticed a small, dark area in which sold flour and eggs. Just what you were looking for. You walked over to the corner to see a man, a burning pipe in his mouth.
"Hello," you said.
"What ca' I get'cha?" He asked, a smug look on his face.
"Well-"
Just then, you were bashed on the back. You collapsed on the ground, coughing up a small pool of blood. You looked up, hopping onto your feet as fast as possible, which was not actually all that fast. You turned, seeing a buff but some what shirt man, a broken bottle in hand.

"Shit- what was that for?" You asked, wiping the blood from your lips.

"Give me your money, love," he said, rolling his neck slightly. You shook your head.
"Piss off," you scoffed. The man sneered, punching you hard in the face. You groaned, bending your knees and covering your nose, smelling that way too familiar metallic odor.
You shoved your bag of money in your boot, having a trick up your sleeve. There was another bag in there, still containing money, but far less.

"Give me that, you little shit," the man growled. The market owner was staring, too scared to interfere. After all, he was just a small and grumpy old man. But most all old people were grumpy. So many regrets. Doesn't mean he was a bad man. But that didn't matter right now. He was too frightened.

You pulled out the coin purse with far less money in it, tossing it at the man. He ran off quickly.
"Love, are you okay? I'm so sorry- that's no way a lady should- here, le'me help," he offered.
"It's all on me, dear," he said, packing a woven basket with flour, eggs, and even a couple of apples.
You nodded a thank you.
"I appreciate it," you grumbled sincerely, blood still trickling down your face.

"Is this the new beggar woman?" You heard some people sneer. You didn't care. You limped to the pie shop, wiping the blood from your lips and nose before walking in.
"(Y/N), back quite fast," Mr.Todd said, not glancing up from the ground.
"Yes," you gasped, coughing on your own blood. Mr.Todd looked up, noticing your bloody hands.

"Y/N?" He asked, staring at you as he stood.
"What happened, love?"
"There was an 'incident' at the market place," you choked, drinking a small sip of Mr.Todd's gin to wash down the liquid of life.
Mr.Todd clutched his fists.
"About a quarter of m' savings," you said with a sigh.
"Who was he?"
"I don't know. Short, muscles... Probably lives in the streets. It's not like it matters. If I bake half as good as my mother, I'll make it back quite soon."
Mr.Todd, trying to lighten the mood, but still angry at the whole situation, grinned slightly and sat you down.
"Your confidence is noted."